#* ▲ — ❛ A SOLDIER ON MY OWN I DON’T KNOW THE WAY . ❜ ► m u s i n g s .

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 9: Size kink

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) size difference/size kink, mentions of masturbation (f), oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, kinda fluffy? almost? If I missed anything please let me know!

You’d always considered yourself average as far as Tattooine was concerned. For a human, you were average height, average build—average, average, average.

But Din had a way of carrying himself that made you feel more important by proxy. People moved out of your way, averted their gaze, as if you were an extension of the hefty Mandalorian soldier.

And for once, you felt tiny; puny compared to the heap of man and metal that walked by your side.

You didn’t know how tall he was without his armor, how broad his shoulders would be without the pauldrons that framed him, but the manner in which he walked—brooding and aloof, confident in every step despite the near constant gunfire aimed his way—made you feel as though the beskar only served to heighten his already looming stature.

It drove you insane.

The nagging voice in your head got louder every day; he could kill you with one hand, he could squash you where you stood—he’d probably fuck you out of your own mind.

And what were you to do about it? A glorified babysitter who kept ship and dressed wounds; who occasionally found a spot by the Mandalorian’s side in the cockpit, leaning against him without protest from his modulated voice.

You were a business measure. You were a way to ensure nothing went awry when Din was busy or away. Or worse.

But it didn’t stop you from spending sleepless nights in your cot with your hand in your pants, stuttering out his name when you pressed your fingers to the sweet spot you knew so well, curling up and imagining how the rhythm of his breathing would feel through his armor.

Now, as you made your way to the cockpit, you felt a chill run over you—the cold air of space sunk into the ship and settled in your bones.

You pushed down the urge to imagine the way Din’s unobstructed skin would feel against you, warming you, protecting you from the harm of the vacuum surrounding the ship.

“Kid’s asleep.” You stood at the entrance of the cockpit, not necessarily expecting a response.

You’d come to enjoy your one-sided conversations.

Din didn’t look up, but his head bobbed slightly in acknowledgement.

“I thought he’d never get to sleep…he was hungry, then he wasn’t, then he was toddling like he owned the place.” You sighed, “He was especially grabby tonight. For someone with three fingers, he’s got quite the grip. Should probably teach your son that noses aren’t for pulling on.”

“Not my son,” Din tilted his head, visor pointed over his shoulder as he responded to you, “Just…my kid.”

“Right…” In all the time you’d spent on the ship, you still hadn’t managed to figure out what connection the two had to each other. “Well, either way, I think he’s getting a little better at recognizing when he’s tired himself out—knowing what he wants.”

Din nodded again, just enough for you to recognize that the conversation was over. You turned to leave, cursing yourself for your inadvertent conversational faux pas.

At least you had your bedtime daydreams.

“And you?” Din spoke before you managed to exit.

“What about me?” You stood still, waiting for him to provide an explanation.

“Do you think you’re getting better at recognizing what you want, mesh’la?”

You remained unsure of what that word meant, or why he used it to address you—several times when he’d first taken you in, you’d corrected him, reminding him your name, and every time he’d just stared, nodded, and thanked you.

Din still didn’t look at you, and it was somewhat unnerving that he was so good at playing the part of a statue.

“I don’t…” You took a few steps forward, the gap between the two of you still seemingly endless, “I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Mmh,” was his only response.

But you stayed behind him, curiosity getting the best of you.

“Was there—what are you trying to say?” You pressed for clarity. His quiet intensity made you nervous.

There was a long pause. You momentarily wondered if he would even grace you with an answer. He did that sometimes, staring down at you through his visor as you mulled over something he’d said, refusing to muster a reply to your line of questioning and leaving you to figure it out yourself.

“You’ve done work on the walls.” Din leaned in his chair, pressing his body to the chair’s back and spreading his thighs as if to stretch them.

You swallowed, trying not to watch him move, though your stomach flipped a little when one of his gloved hands came to rest near his crotch.

“I’ve done work that you asked me to do…” You still weren’t sure where he was going with this—if he was going anywhere at all. “Wiring and welding…is there something else? Because it wouldn’t be a bother, ‘specially since the kid’s asleep.”

You were greeted with another long pause, only disturbed by the sharp breath Din let out that caught in the modulator.

It sounded almost as if he was laughing.

You shifted on your feet, uncertain and growing more tense by the minute. Was he unhappy with your work? Was he going to make you rip out what you’d done, start all over again—berate you for your shortcomings?

“You’ve noticed that they’re thin.” Din’s words made your anxious musings of being out of a job vanish, replacing them with entirely different anxieties.

You wondered if he could see you shaking like a leaf.

“I w—Din it’s not…” You couldn’t think of an excuse, and you were suddenly hit with the notion that perhaps he wasn’t even talking about that; maybe he was simply asking you to be quieter as you rummaged through cabinets and closed doors.

“I like the way you say my name.” He turned the chair around, facing you. You stared at him dumbly, his legs still spread in a shamefully alluring manner. “What do you think about?”

Your lips parted as you considered his question.

On one hand, there was still a chance to argue back, plead your innocence, feign ignorance; a chance for you to ignore him, to walk out of the cockpit and crawl into bed.

On the other hand, you didn’t want to walk away.

“You…” You mumbled, looking down at the floor. You fiddled with your hands in an effort to feel less awkward. “I think about you.”

“And?” He wasn’t going to let you omit details.

“I think about…about how much bigger and—and stronger than me you are.”

He stayed silent, and you searched for ways to fill the gap he would otherwise fill in the conversation.

“I think about how you make me feel so small when you stand next to me—sometimes when you give me instructions, you stand so close to me, crowd me against the wall, and I—I like…I like your shoulders.”

You cringed at your words. I like your shoulders? You wanted to kick yourself.

“And I think about how your hands would feel—always think about how big they are, how they’d, um, how you’d probably be able to grab me…play with me and use me so easily.”

Din let you stew in your words for a moment longer before speaking.

“Come.” He tilted his head back, a small gesture to bring you forward.

You obliged, forcing your legs to move, settling to stand between his knees.

“Sit, mesh’la. On your knees.” He watched you, and though you looked at him skeptically at first, you did what was asked of you.

When you’d gotten yourself comfortable, shifting on your knees between his legs, you looked up at him. His face was tilted down, watching you acquaint yourself with the position you’d taken on the floor.

“You are easy to play with.” He said it so robotically, a monotonous acknowledgement of the scene before him as you clung to his every word.

“I knew it,” you offered a sheepish smile, hoping that making light of the situation would help the tension dissipate.

Din reached out to hold your chin, tilting your head up to force your line of sight directly into his visor.

“What else do you think about?” The worn leather of his gloves felt smooth on your skin, and you let out a shaky breath of appreciation at the contact.

“Think about…” You reached up hesitantly, letting your palms rest on the armor plating his thighs. “How you’d feel. How heavy you’d be on my tongue and how—how deep you’d be…inside me…”

You heard him groan, an intensely human sound beneath his helmet, and it spurred you on, suddenly aware of the power you held and the mutual need that both of you were experiencing.

“I think about how thick you are—always imagine that my hands would be too small to fit around you properly. And how much effort it would take for you to fit.” You let your fingers spread over the cloth of his flight suit.

Din removed his hand from your chin, both of his palms coming to rest on top of your own hands. He gripped them loosely, pushing them back onto the armor on his thighs.

You felt a pang of disappointment until you realized that he was giving himself the space to undo the clasp of his suit to give you what you wanted.

He sat up a bit straighter, fumbling with the fastener before managing to undo it with a grunt. He paused, looking at you between his legs for a moment, and then he pulled his cock from its confines.

He was beautiful; long and thick, tan shaft holding up a red, rounded tip. Veins ran down the underside of his length, decorating him.

You tried not to let the feeling of shock show on your face, but he laughed lightly, validated by your obvious astonishment.

“Is it what you thought it would be?” Din’s voice was low as he began stroking himself with a gloved hand.

You whimpered, unable to contain the startled glee in your voice. “Din—”

“Yes,” he cut you off, sighing, “Please.”

You let out a hum, bringing your hands up to his cock, met with the thrilling revelation that your fantasies had been grounded in reality—your hands were insufficient in engulfing his length, fingers struggling to close around him, several inches of him remaining untouched.

You leaned forward, hesitantly sticking your tongue out and swirling it around his tip.

Din’s head fell back as he cursed, fingers flying to grip at your hair and follow you as you began to bob your head up and down over what you could fit into your mouth without choking.

“You’re—you’re warm…” He grunted out, gathering strands of your hair into a makeshift handle. “Did you think about this, mesh’la? Did you think about having me in your mouth like this?”

Your response was muted by his cock, but the happy sound that bubbled from your chest let him know everything he needed to.

You let the spit that dripped over him coat your palms, using it as a lubricant to slide your hands over his cock while your continued to force more of him down your throat.

Din hissed at the feeling, the way your wrists jerked in sync with the movement of your tongue over him, and he tightened his grip on your hair.

He let you continue for a while, before deciding to pull you off. You rested your head on his thigh, one hand still trailing the veins of his cock while you tried to catch your breath, drooling.

“Look at me,” he urged, tugging at your hair to tilt your face up. Your lips were puffy, chin coated in your drool, and there were tears glazing your eyes. He stared, content with how easy it was to get you cockdrunk. “Perfect.”

“I wasn’t done…” You whimpered an argument, pouting.

“Yes, you were.” Din coaxed you up from the floor, hands on your arms lifting you to stand.

He let his arms drop, looking at you, how wrecked you were while still fully clothed before him, and his fingers moved to toy with the buttons of your trousers.

“Alright?” He froze, awaiting a sign that what he was doing was ok, that you were willing to let him continue.

“Din, if you don’t take them off, I will.” You let yourself drag a hand down the side of his helmet, and though you felt cold metal in place of skin and hair, you still felt as though the gesture was intimate, fitting for this scenario.

Din had heard what he’d needed to hear, finally undoing the buttons and letting your pants pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them awkwardly, playing with the hem of your shirt and looking at him expectantly.

He nodded, a more obvious signal this time, and you shed the shirt from your body, too, leaving you fully exposed. You began to lean forward into him, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you away.

“Turn around.”

You spun, turning your back to him. Without warning, you felt leather-clad fingers squeezing your skin, roaming your hips before gripping harshly at your ass.

“Now sit.” He put both hands on your hips and tugged you back to him, letting you adjust as you fell into his lap. He helped you spread your legs, hooking your knees over him and opening you to the cold air of the ship.

“Bite.” Din pressed a finger to your lips, “I want to feel you.”

You whimpered, carefully biting down on the tip of the glove and letting him pull his hand out. He grabbed the fabric that hung from your mouth and tossed it to the side.

“Good.” His newly ungloved hand roamed your body, groping your tits and squeezing roughly at any untouched skin he could find. His other hand gripped your hip, keeping you steady.

You whined, trying to grind down against him. The pulse of his cock, still hard and coated with your spit, pressed into your back, and it made you impatient and dizzy.

“Stay still.” Another command that had you whining, but you acquiesced.

Din’s bare hand wrapped around your thigh, pulling it further to give him ample room to touch you where you needed him. He pressed one finger to your clit, and though the touch was somewhat soft, you bucked your hips into the feeling.

“Such a little thing,” he mused, “It’s so easy for me to keep you where I want you.”

That made you moan: his acknowledgement of your size difference and the way he used it to his advantage. You squirmed in an effort to get him to give you more of what you wanted.

Din’s finger dropped lower, teasing your slit and hovering over your hole. He dipped the tip of his finger into you, growling at the slick feeling that coated him.

“All this from nothing.” He thought aloud before plunging the finger into your cunt, curling it to jab into your most tender spot.

“Oh m—Din!” You hadn’t expected the intrusion, but you welcomed it all the same. You writhed on his finger, much thicker than your own and filling you in a much more satisfactory way. “More—another, please.”

“You can handle more?” You thought you heard him smiling.

“Even if I can’t, you can make me,” you whimpered, “I want more.”

Your response earned a rumble from Din, a low growl that vibrated through his chest. He pressed another finger into you, leaning over your shoulder to watch your cunt swallow the digits and coat them with your juices.

“Look,” he grunted, “Look how much you struggle with two fingers. How are you going to take my cock?”

And you were struggling, but it was wonderful; his fingers pressed against your walls, stretching you out in preparation for what was to come, and you brought your own hand to your clit to rub circles over yourself.

But Din grabbed your wrist, leather digging against you as he tugged your hand away from your core.

“Mine.” His voice was animalistic, so lost in the way you squeezed his fingers and the way you listened to his demands. He tossed your own hand to the side, replacing it with gloved fingers that pressed rhythmically into you in time with the fingers he had working you open. “Had plenty of time to touch. Thought you wanted the real thing.”

“I do—Din, I do, I do,” you were pleading, begging for his help in getting you to your high. “Please, I do.”

“Cum.” It was all he said, pressing his fingers roughly against your clit and curling those he had inside you to tease your orgasm from your delicate spot.

And you did; with a loud yelp and a chant of his name, you were coming undone on his hands.

You rocked against his cock where it nestled against your ass, whimpering as you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Good, mesh’la.” He stroked your hair.

He pulled his fingers from you slowly, and you shuddered, hit with the feeling of emptiness as your body clenched around nothing. He brought his fingers to your lips, and you welcomed them into your mouth, sucking on them and gathering the remnants of your slick on your tongue.

“Din,” you gathered yourself together, releasing his fingers and breathing deeply. You pressed your back to his chest. “More.”

“You’re being greedy.” He couldn’t hide his delight at your eagerness, the modulator picking up on the amused breaths he let out. “Stand up. Face me.”

On shaky legs, you obeyed.

You felt your thighs, gluey against the air, stick together as you moved, evidence of your pleasure that lingered on your skin.

When you turned to face him, went wide-eyed with fascination. His ungloved hand had wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched you.

“On my lap.” His free hand patted his thigh, and you approached enthusiastically.

You maneuvered yourself on top of him, straddling him and letting your knees press into the crevices between the armrests of the chair and his body. He placed a hand on your hip, rubbing his thumb over your skin, trying to feel you through the leather of his glove.

You settled against him, feeling the movement of his arm as he continued to jerk himself off. The tip of his cock brushed against your clit, and you mewled, rolling your hips against him.

“What do you want?” He urged you to speak, his fingers digging into your side.

“You—want your cock, Din.” You were shameless, desperate to feel him split you in half.

“And if it doesn’t fit?” He slapped his cock against you, making you whimper above him. You shifted your hips to savor the feeling of his skin on yours.

“You’ll make it fit.” You found the confidence to look into the visor, certain that you were gazing into his eyes behind the shield.

He groaned, pulling you closer to him as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“I will.” He reassured you, beginning to push into you.

You moaned at the stretch, the pressure of his body against yours as your cunt swallowed the head of his cock. You clawed at the armor on his chest, and he let out a throaty sound.

“So tight,” he seemed almost as breathless as you felt, “Taking me so well.”

“Feels—it feels so good,” you whispered, bouncing on the tip of his cock, “Give it to me, please. All of it.”

With a growl, Din removed his hand from the base of his cock, gripping your hips, manhandling you to contort your body the way he wanted you.

He pushed you down onto him, thrusting his hips upward until he was buried to the hilt in your cunt.

You screamed, head falling into the crook of his neck and writhing as your body accepted the invasion of his length. Despite the suddenness and the extent to which you had been filled, you craved more, dragging your hips against him and trying to see just how deep he could get.

Din cursed, rasping and desirous. “Look at you taking all that cock,” he was transfixed, obsessed with how your cunt gripped him. “You think a lot about having me force it in, little one? Forcing you to take it how I wanted? Ruining you?”

“Y—es,” you sobbed into him, “Wanted you to—wanted you to break me open.” You were choking back moans, arms wrapped around his neck.

He had engulfed you completely, dwarfing you and turning you into nothing but a toy—a doll at his disposal that he used with no regard.

And you loved it. You loved the texture of his veins running down your walls, the filthy wet sounds that he pulled from your cunt with every deep thrust, the way his balls bounced heavy against your ass when he forced you down onto him.

He brought a hand to the nape of your neck, pulling you back and encouraging you to look down at where your bodies connected. He released you, opting to grab your hand and press it into your stomach.

“You know what that is?” There was a smugness to his tone, one that made you feel lightheaded, “That’s my cock.”

You moaned, but he wasn’t done speaking.

“That’s my cock wrecking you—breaking you how you wanted. Not your fingers, mesh’la. Do you hear the pretty sounds you’re making for me? I never heard you scream like that when you were trying to fuck yourself.”

Your jaw went slack, legs aching and hot with the effort you had to put into keeping up with his pace.

“S—o much—so much better,” you choked out, “You feel so much better than my hands, Din.”

“I know I do. Tell me,” he kept your palm pressed against your stomach, watching as you bulged with him every time his cock punched into you. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Din—oh!” You were so far gone, so focused on the pleasure of having him so close, so deep. You managed to breathe a one-word response. “Big…”

“Big,” he laughed, “That’s right.”

His thrusts became slower, his cockhead nudging your g-spot at a delicious pace that made you give up your attempts at keeping up with him.

You fell against his body, happy to let him do the work while you succumbed to his movements.

“Tight little pussy—only cock you need,” he was speaking rhetorically, not posing it as a question or statement for you, per se, but a general agreement spoken into the cockpit that he was certain you would find truth in. “Only cock that’ll ever fit again.”

You felt drool puddle from the corner of your lips, having gone so completely dumb for him.

There was a fire spreading throughout your body, heat licking at your core as it threatened a deluge of bliss.

“Only you, Din,” you mumbled against him, “Please, only you.”

He had resorted to dragging you over him, pulling and pushing your hips over his length and watching his cock split you open. The action ensured that your clit pushed against him, giving you the friction you’d need to reach another high when paired with the stretch of his cock.

“Cum,” his voice had dropped just above a whisper, “Let me feel you squeeze me tight, mesh’la.” He squeezed your hips hard, bucking into you.

You came with a delighted squeal, gripping his shoulders and grinding yourself down into him. He hugged you to his body, further enveloping you, and you felt safe and fulfilled.

His thrusts quickly became more erratic, searching for release. You felt him stiffen against you, not out of discomfort but due to the imminent high he faced.

“Din…Implant,” you whispered, hoping he could hear your voice over the panted breaths you took. “Please. Inside.”

Your words were all it took, and his hips stuttered into you. He moaned, head falling back against the chair and arms hauling you even closer to his body.

You felt the warmth of his spend in your abdomen, painting your walls and filling you with him. You moaned softly, squirming on his lap in a display of contentment.

He brought a hand up to feather through your hair, letting you rest against him as you both settled.

“How do you feel?” He asked, after the silence had become too much even for him.

“So good,” you nuzzled against his pauldron, “You made me feel so good, Din.”

He turned to look down at you. “As good as you thought it would feel?”  

“So much better.”

[milla-frenchy]

After

2k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: you want Joel and finally get the opportunity to have him Warnings: 18+ mdni. Virginity loss, age gap (reader is 23, Joel is in his late 40s), dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f/m), piv a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading, and for holding my hand with this one 💕🫶 Pic for mood only

Masterlist

***************

You had been watching the exchanges between Joel and Fedra soldiers for several weeks and finally he got scammed by one of them. When you offered him a new deal, you had a hard time hiding your satisfaction.

“You fucked up, Joel. Trusted the wrong guy,” you said with a smirk, “But I can help you.” 

You had known him for several years. He sometimes did business with your father and never seemed interested in you. You were just “the daughter of”. He looked at you before letting out a surprised “You?”

“Yeah, me. Those supplies you need, I can get them for you. Come to my place tonight. I’ll show you a part of them and tell you how to get them all.”

He sighed, nodded, and left for his shift.

You heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and opened the door before he knocked. He must have worked in the sewers that day because he had showered and changed. His hair was slicked back and still slightly wet.

“Ok, show me the supplies.”

You took out half of them, having watched his previous exchanges. You spied on him regularly, but you never thought you'd have the chance to get some kind of leverage over him.  You had your own apartment in the QZ, where you lived alone after moving out of your father’s place. 

No man interested you, except Joel. In recent years, you started looking at him differently. His gaze, his broad back, his hands obsessed you. At night, in your bed, you thought of him when your fingers rolled over your clit or when you rubbed yourself lying against your pillow. You imagined his body against yours. His kisses on your neck, his hands on your breasts. You imagined what you would have felt if he’d buried his length inside you. You wondered what his cock looked like and a few times, when you met him, you dared to lower your gaze to his crotch.

You had boyfriends before, but never did more than quick handjobs and blowjobs. None of them wanted to go further and you suspected them of being afraid of your father. You thought Joel would know how to deal with you. And now you had leverage.

“What’s your price?”

“I wanna have sex with you”, you replied confidently, making him laugh.

“You’re just a kid. Ain’t gonna fuck you.”

“I’m not a kid, I’m 23.”

“That’s what I said. A kid.”

“Come on, Joel. You can have all these supplies, just after having sex with me. Could be worse, don’t you think?”

“What about your dad?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not asking you to fuck my dad, right?”

He smirked.

“You really want my dick that bad, that you’d give me all the supplies for it?”

“Yeah, in fact I do.”

He sighed. “Ok, your choice. Make me hard, if you want it that bad.”

You smirked and kneeled before unzipping his jeans. When his cock slipped free from his boxers, your lips formed an O. He was semi-hard, and already his size was impressive.

“Fuck”, you breathed out.

“Your boyfriends don’t have these kinda cocks? Come on, suck it.”

His hair there was slightly graying. He smelled of soap. You took his cock in your hand and collected the precum with your thumb.

“Spit on it.”

You did as he said, and you started jerking him off. He was getting harder. You licked his tip, lingering your tongue on his slit, filling your throat with his taste. You rounded your lips and took him in your mouth, applying yourself, breathing through your nose. You inwardly thanked the cocks you had practiced on before. Your head was bobbing and rising, and he was now fully hard. His cock was filling your entire mouth, precum flowing, and his taste was intoxicating you.

“Yeah, just like that. Keep goin’. You’re doing great.”

It was the first time a man spoke to you this way, and you were soaked. Gaze fixed on him, you took his cock out of your mouth and licked his entire length. From the base of his shaft to the slit. Then you licked one of his balls and took it in your mouth.

“Fuck…yeah, keep goin’. Didn’t know your father raised such a slut.”

You moved to the other ball, still jerking him, your thumb caressing his balls.

“Yeah…shit. Take my cock in your mouth again now. Keep suckin’ baby, just like that.”

His praise encouraged you. His hand was on your head, not applying any pressure. But when you took him back in your mouth, he held your head between his palms.

“Gonna fuck your throat now.”

He pushed all the way in, slowly, but giving you time to get used to his girth, to breathe calmly.

“Stay like that, don’t move. Yeah…good girl.”

He pulled back until only his tip remained in your mouth, and thrusted in again, faster, hitting the back of your throat. Again, he held you against him, your nose buried in his hair. Then he fucked your throat. You heard him grunt, and you were afraid he would shoot his cum down your throat. Like the other guys before. But Joel wasn’t like them. He was fucking your throat for a while, letting you catch your breath from time to time by pulling out. He was smirking watching the string of saliva connect your mouth to his cock. Finally he released you.

“Lie down on the bed and take off your clothes. Show me that cunt.”

You took off your clothes: t-shirt, jeans and panties, lay down and spread your legs, showing him your dripping pussy. He stroked himself a few times, eyes on you.

“You really want that? Ain’t got any boys of your age to fuck you?”

“Don’t want them.”

He looked at you again and shrugged before taking off his clothes.

“Need to stretch you first. Don’t wanna tear that slit.”

Shivers ran through your body when he placed his mouth on your folds and his tongue ran over them. “Fuck,” you moaned. Other men had gone down on you before, but he was different. Joel was eating you like a starving man, lapping at your pussy, drinking all the wetness that flowed from it. And he was hot. He was looking at you with a piercing stare while his tongue was buried in you. His broad shoulders were forcing your thighs open, and his hands were keeping them against the sheets.

“Yeah, you really want it…,” he growled between your thighs. And he was right. You wanted him, you wanted all of him, and you were moaning nonstop. He placed his lips around your clit, swirled his tongue over it and pushed his middle finger into your core, making you whimper. He added his index finger and you winced.

“You’re fuckin’ tight…when was your last fuck?”

“Shit, who cares? Keep goin’.”

He shrugged again, and thrusted both of his thick fingers into you. You focused on your clit, moaning. He was fucking your cunt with his digits easily now. You felt your wetness flowing down to your ass.

“Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, you can do it. Give it to me, then I’ll fuck you.”

He sucked your clit again and your body shuddered, squirming under his tongue and fingers.

“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl, clenching on my fingers like that. Want to get fucked that bad, uh? I’m gonna give it to you now.”

He carefully removed his fingers, and lapped between your folds one last time. When he stood up, you looked at his cock, hard as steel now, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Sure you can take it?”

“Yeah…yeah, I can take it, Joel.”

He nodded and laid between your thighs, cock in his hand, and he pressed it against your entrance before pushing lightly. You gasped and he pulled out.

“What is it?”

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and a tear ran down your cheek.

“Fuck, don’t tell me…don’t tell me you’re a virgin?”

He looked at you with wide eyes. You nodded shyly.

“Damn, what’s wrong with you? I ain’t gonna fuck you.”

“Please, Joel! I want it. Please.”

“I…fuck…sweetheart, I ain’t for first time. That cock ain’t for first times. I'm sorry."

“Please. Just…I don’t know, go slow?”

“Shit…It’s one thing to fuck you. Being your first time, is something else. The fuck is wrong with you? Can't you have your first time with a good boy in a decent place…But not with me, not as my payment.”

“Stop protecting me, or whatever you’re doing. Just fuck me. How many times do I have to tell you I want it?”

He looked at you, hesitant. You expected him to shrug but he didn’t. He laid between your thighs again. His tip nestled at your entrance. He pushed in again, slowly, his eyes locked with yours. He must have felt you tense, even if it was involuntarily, even if you wanted it, and he caressed your cheek. He pressed his lips to yours with a sweetness you didn’t expect coming from him.

Joel’s ruthless attitude was well known in the QZ. And here, right now, he was offering you an unexpected kindness. His lips were warm and soft. You felt your heart race when his tongue sought yours, passing the barrier of your lips. His cock twitched inside your walls. Before kissing you, he had paused pushing in, only his tip nestling inside you. He pulled away from your face and took your hands in his. He placed them on either side of your head, against the mattress, and said, “hold my hands, baby. Hold ‘em tight.” His body was warm against yours. Somehow, you felt reassured by his weight pressing you down. 

So you squeezed his hands, and he looked at you, pointing his chin towards you, as if to say “ready?” You nodded, and he thrusted in again, muttering  “fuck” through his clenched teeth.

He pushed halfway inside your pussy and you closed your eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured. You bit your lip as you opened your eyes, struggling not to tell him to stop, not to let the fear overwhelm you. He pulled back, his eyes in yours, keeping just the tip at your entrance, before thrusting in again. This time he didn’t stop. You squeezed his hands tighter and held your breath, until he bottomed out. He rested his forehead against yours, pausing deep inside you, and said, “Breath, sweetheart. You’re gonna be ok.”

He pulled back before thrusting in again, his movements were smooth and gentle. Your pain was gone, and the way he buried himself inside you, caressing your folds, made you squeeze his shaft. Your gaze remained fixed on his, devouring him. His brown eyes, his furrowed eyebrows, the brown curls of his now dry hair.

He stopped again and you pleaded “no, no, no, please, don’t stop. It’s…it’s good, it doesn't hurt anymore.”

“I know, baby, but…fuck. I need a minute. You’re too tight. Lemme…hold my breath, ok? Or I ain’t gonna last.”

You nodded, but you had a hard time stopping your hips from rolling towards him. You didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to stop feeling him in you. So you focused on him again. His nose, his mustache, his lips, and his patchy beard. You let go of his hands and placed yours on his biceps. You wanted to feel his muscles under your fingers, the warmth of his skin under yours.

“Shit…ok. How do you feel, baby?”

“I’m ok, Joel. Told you I could take it”, you said proudly with a cute smile - at least you hoped.

He smiled and kissed you again, as he started to fuck you, a little deeper this time, slightly faster.

You roamed your fingers over his arms, his shoulders, his back. His lips left yours, and his nose ran across your cheek before brushing your neck. His soft mustache made you shiver, and when he kissed the delicate skin there, everything you had imagined about him came back to you. He was perfect, just like in your fantasies.

He was fucking you slowly again, and you spread your thighs to feel him deeper in you. He was rubbing his pelvis against your clit, and you felt another orgasm building. Different from all the others you had so far. A deeper one, coming from the depths of your body, and you were moaning at every thrust.

“You like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes Joel, it’s so good…I don't want it to stop, please, don’t stop..”

He kissed your neck again, and said “I won’t. I know you’re good. You feel it coming?”

“I…fuck, yeah! How do you know?”

He gave a confident little nod, just as your orgasm overwhelmed you and made you clench on his cock. You whimpered and he held you tighter against him, his arms under your shoulders. 

He whispered in your ear, “you’re such a good girl, coming on my cock. Damn, you’re squeezing me so tight baby.”

You could barely hear him, and your body was still trembling.

“Joel…,” you whined.

“I know, baby, I know…You’re ok. You’re ok.”

He kept thrusting into you the whole time, slowly, deeply, and you felt like his cock was made for you. You knew it was a dangerous thing to think, but couldn’t help it. 

You heard him whisper in your ear again, “wanna try something, sweetheart?”

“I’m not sure if I can-”

He stopped moving, and placed his hands on your cheeks.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded. Of course you trusted him. Right here, right now, he seemed to be the most trustworthy person in your world.

“I’m gonna lay on my back, and you’re gonna ride me. I’ll help you if you need me.”

You nodded again, and when he withdrew you whimpered, crying his loss as silently as you could. He lay down on his back, and when you saw the stained sheets you froze. “It’s ok. Nothing that can't come off after washing. And if it doesn't go away I'll give you other ones.”

You realized that he was constantly reassuring you since he found out that you were a virgin, and had never been rough. Your heart sank again.

You straddled him and whispered “how do I do it?” You felt inexperienced and clumsy, but once again he didn’t judge you.

“Take my cock in your hand, use me how you want it. You’re in control.”

You positioned his tip at your entrance and he nodded encouragingly. You lowered yourself onto his shaft, feeling your pussy welcome him. You didn't dare take all of him at first, and you rolled your hips slightly, your chest against his.

“Yeah, just like that baby”, he said, caressing your back.

When you felt like you could take more, you welcomed him deeper, whimpering in his neck, rubbing your cheek against his beard, as if to forget the heat in your core. You slid down his shaft, your hands roaming his cheeks, his neck, his torso. You wanted to feel everything. To fill all your five senses with just him.

You sat up, ready to take him fully. He placed his large hands on your breasts and hard nipples. You welcomed his warmth and covered his hands with yours. You were feeling his cock differently. Deeply. You looked at him, he seemed wrecked and you didn’t expect it. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer. Rub your clit now, baby. Come on my cock one last time”, he said.

You nodded, and placed your finger on your clit. You felt fully exposed and vulnerable in front of him, but there were no red flags in him. You wondered if that would change the next time you’d see him, if he would avoid you. You pushed the idea out of your mind, focusing on your sensations. You kept riding him, eager to show him you were learning how to do it right. How much you loved it. And you truly did. Your finger was swirling over your clit, and you couldn’t believe that another orgasm was building in you. 

“Joel…I’m gonna cum again, it’s…fuck, it’s so good.”

“Yeah, you like that, baby? Can feel it…you're gonna clench on my cock again? Gonna soak it, till you’ll drip on my balls?” His words made you whimper and you came a third time on his cock. Your head fell back, and he waited as long as he could before he lifted you up lightly and pulled out. He jerked off quickly, then spurted his cum against your thighs and your pussy, growling. 

You laid against him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and he held you in his arms. You knew that you wanted to feel him again. To feel his lips, his hands on you. His cock in your mouth and in your cunt. You played tough when he arrived at your place, and now you felt different, your heart wanted to be filled too.

Again, the word “after” flashed in your mind, and pain twisted your heart.

****************

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[venuslut]

FANTASIZING ABOUT being a barracks bunny and having the biggest crush on SIMON “GHOST” RILEY. Completely revamping your image so you’ll be more appealing to him. Even going as far as sleeping with your captain, John Price, so he’ll put you and Simon together more often for missions or training. You may be a bimbo, but you weren’t dumb and knew how to get what you wanted. Slowly but surely, you wormed your way into his heart. And the grande finale to get him into your bed was to invite him to your room, the perks of sleeping around providing you the luxury of your own private room without any bunkmates. Promising to let him leave after one glass of whiskey, but one glass turned into two and soon enough y’all were already about to finish the second bottle.

It wasn’t long before your fleeting touches on his arm turned into harsh grips on his biceps that left red scratches from your short manicured nails. Caused by the way he pushed your legs back high to your chest, his calloused hands gripping your meaty thighs while he held them down, pushing your flexibility to the max. Your knees were to your chest and ankles rest on his broad shoulders as he fucked into your needy cunt with all his weight. He fucks like a machine: hard and strong thrusts with no pause or hesitation, determined to fuck you both into oblivion in a drunken haze. And fuck… he’s big.

He continued to pound into you with a relentless rhythm, your legs twitching in the air involuntarily while he held you in place. " ‘m in so fucking deep, baby… is that why yo’ can’t talk?" he groaned, his voice low. "Don't you dare close those pretty little eyes. Look at me while I fuck you, Y/n. Look at me and know that no other soldier can satisfy you like I can." Now Simon knew what kind of woman you were, everyone did. He never planned to get involved with you until you suddenly appeared in his life and coaxed him into your company. Simon didn't need to fuck one of his comrades to deal with the normal frustration brought by being a Lieutenant. But this time, he just... Fuck, he needs this. How could he resist with the way you batted your eyelashes up at him, or pouted those plump glossed lips, and don’t even get him started on those skimpy clothes you wore when you invited him to your room for a drink.

Besides, it would a lie if he said he hasn’t dreamed of smothering you with his much larger frame and force you to take his cock in your tight cunt. Watching you writhing underneath him while you cried out his name. And now it was all coming true, with a few liquid courage in his system of course. He jumped at the chance to have you all to himself when you caressed his thigh and promised to remove all his frustrations. Little does he know, you orchestrated this from day one, and all those tension filled encounters would lead you to this moment.

“Sim— Lieutenant! Oh my God! ngh… slow down, please!” You beg, throwing your head back as the pleasure was becoming too much. You move your hands from his arms to weakly try and slow down his movements, but Simon quickly snatched both of your wrists and held them over your head. Using his free hand he smacked your thigh hard enough for a red print to show, “don’t be so sensitive, bunny. Keep your hands to yourself and just take my cock like the good slut I know you are.”

[ramp-it-up]

Call Me Captain When I...

Summary: You were Steve's subordinate, but you'd met as friends. And Steve needs your help with something.

Pairing: Early CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! Early CATWS Steve, talk of politics, flashbacks, groping while asleep, Not-so Inexpereinced-ish Steve, Dom Steve, Friends to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, Captain and Sir kink, pulling rank, uniform kink, talking in sleep, masturbation, sex toy, voyeurism, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, oral s ex (m receiving), raw p in v, intimations of female receiving oral.

A/N: This was supposed to be the conclusion to Greatest, but this popped in my head. This is set very soon after he first meets Sam and is still getting adjusted to the world. Also, I am not in the military and know nothing really of proper uniform or officer/subordinate address or etiquette. This is pure fantasy. Hope you like it. HBD Steve! 😁

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

-----

You woke up with a start, mouth dry, burning hot and seriously needing to pee. 

You weren’t sick; the cause of your discomfort was the 240 pound super soldier next to you. You looked over to see Steve Rogers’ sleeping face six inches away from yours on the chaise lounge of your sofa, the blue glow from your smart tv’s home screen bathing his face in eerie light. 

You allowed yourself two minutes to admire the man you had come to have a huge problematic crush on in such a short time.

You smiled to think of the first time you saw him in person as he wandered into the Information Technology Division of S.H.I.E.L.D., which you were running. 

------

He wasn’t in uniform, but who he was and his rank was unmistakable. Everyone rose when he entered. You watched him investigate the division by wandering around and looking at soldier’s workstation screens, reading files on desks, which was fine. The venerated Captain Steve Rogers had just about as high a clearance as anyone in the room.

You recognized the look on his face, a mixture of awe and earnestness, and something happened with your heart.

You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to wake up, 70 years out of your own time. You watched his face, noting the anxiety, but mirroring his slight smile when he saw the book stacks at the rear of the room. Something like relief overtook his features. He scanned the room, calculating that the stacks went quite a way back into the facility, then he sized up the size of the troops in the division. 

You commanded 24 soldiers who helped you to oversee a good amount of basic historical, and quite a lot of classified information for SHIELD. You were too busy watching Steve’s face when his eyes found yours, and were caught off guard when he addressed you although you should not have been.

“Looks like you have quite the mission, Lieutenant.”

You snapped to attention and responded. 

“Yes, Sir. Information is key for the success of SHIELD, and we take pride in our work.”

“At ease.” 

Captain Rogers stood before you as you adjusted to parade rest. 

“I hear you do great work, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I need some help.”

“Sir?”

Steve huffed, annoyed at your formality. He looked around to see your entire division staring.

“Can we go into your office?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Once the door was closed, Steve had to address this first point, even though his body thrilled when you called him ‘Sir.’”

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. You and I are friends, aren’t we?”

At the dulcet tone in his voice, you looked him in the eye, although you remained at parade rest. You knew that your troops were looking through your window. Steve noticed that your blinds were open and went to close them, which irritated you. That would only arouse suspicion.

Steve quickly admired your body in your work greens, eyes scanning from your boots up your pants, which were tailored very well out of necessity, to your shirt as he marveled how your buttons stayed closed. He chuckled as he had the same problem himself.

Your eyes were on him as his made their way to your face.

“You said you needed something, Captain?”

He almost groaned at that address. He needed you, spread out on his bed, calling him Captain and begging him to fuck you. But he had to play it cool. 

“I have this problem. And only you can help me with it.”

Steve had no idea how much that sounded like a line, so he barrelled ahead. He needed you, and he knew it from the moment he saw you at Sam’s house party the night before. The fact that you introduced yourself as a librarian endeared you to him, and the kind way that you talked to him all night about historical events of the 20th and 21st century cemented your place in his heart. He even adopted Sam’s nickname for you, Libby the librarian.

“I need a tutor.”

He’d piqued your interest.

“Sir?”

This time his groan was audible. That cute little head tilt was driving him crazy. And your braids up in that neat braid bun. You were wound tight at work.He wanted to have them down, waving along your ass and hypnotizing like they were last night. He wanted to wrap them around his hand as he….

You were going to be the death of him. He cleared his throat.

“I need someone to bring me up to speed. Someone who can help me understand this brave new world we have here.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes just scanned his face. He continued talking to fill the void.

“I mean, I wake up, and everything is different, society, technology, women, hell, even the president…”

“You never dreamed we’d have a black president, did you?”

You were toe to toe with him now, an equal in the field of knowledge, superior to him in history and culture. Steve liked this feeling. He really needed you.

“Honestly. No. I’ve missed the history that would lead me there. That’s why I need you.”

You bristled slightly, straightening your posture again and looking at the wall. Steve caught the vibe.

“This is not a command. I’m coming to you as a new friend that I thought we both gained last night. I want help. I’m asking you. Not as my subordinate, but as a friend. Please, Libby.”

Steve’s earnest plea melted you on the inside. You gave up trying to keep him at arm's length. You knew it was not appropriate what you did last night in your bedroom as you thought of the conversation with him last night. His voice, his eyes, those lips. And you did not overlook that body beneath his button up shirt and khakis. 

But he’d made it clear that you were friends and you would rock with that. Besides, you wanted to help America’s number one soldier see all sides of what he was fighting for. 

He needed to see the truth.

“Alright. One evening a week. Thursdays good for you?”

You walked around your desk and grabbed a post it note and started writing.

Steve was elated and nodded until you looked up at him and he responded verbally.

“Yes.”

He kind of liked you in control. It might be that much more pleasureable to subdue you. He shook his head, surprised at his own thoughts.

“Great.” 

You tore off a note and handed it to him.

“Order these books. Have one read, doesn’t matter which, by this Thursday and meet me at Pete’s Deli at 5:30.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled at him and Steve thought he was going to kneel at your feet.

“Don’t thank me yet until you’ve survived one of my very serious debates.”

“Sounds grueling.”

“You have no idea.”

—---

Over the last four months, you and Steve debated, argued, went through periods of needing space from each other, and late nights texting about tons of topics and cultural events during “the ice years,” as Steve called them. It was almost like a marriage.

You’d graduated from books, to Ted Talks, to movies, to videos on tons of topics and Steve was developing quite the knowledge base. 

You were proud of him, he digested information, reasoned it out, and didn’t become a carbon copy of you, but a well informed, better Steve Rogers. 

And fuck all, that made him even hotter.

Now, you were moving to the popular culture portion of your tutoring, and the night before you’d started the 1980’s/Spike Lee movie portion of your lessons. 

You’d binged She’s Gotta Have It, School Daze, and fell asleep halfway through Do The Right Thing. Now you were trapped between the arm of your couch and a 240 lb heat generator super strong super soldier.

You inched out from under Steve’s thick thigh, which was thrown over your legs, and was about to be able to escape when he turned over, his hand grabbing your boob and his fingers skillfully finding your thickened nub.

“Thank God for the right nipple. Thank God for the left nipple…”

You froze, but then remembered that was a line from the movie, and continued trying to escape without waking Steve up. He couldn’t be held responsible for his subconscious.

“Libby, wanna suck your nipples…please..”

You froze again. Well this was a development. Steve’s subconscious was trying to slide.

“Call me Captain when I suck your nipples. Sir when you suck me off…”

You managed to get up and you stood there, watching Steve, who was snoring now, and had no idea what he’d just said. You shook your head at the fact that he hadn’t learned the power of grey sweat pants.

In a daze, you walked to the bathroom and somehow ended up in the shower before you realized you had a guest. You were trying to process, and it was just a coincidence that your Leelo was in there. You’d be able to slake your hunger and clean up before he awoke.

Steve woke up, confused for a minute, and noticed that it was 4 am. 

He was on your couch with a Giant boner, and someone was in the shower. He stood up, stretched and went to your kitchen for a bottle of water when he heard you moan. 

Wanting to make sure that you were okay, Steve went to your slightly open bathroom door and got an earful.

“Ohhhh. Fuck, Captain, yessssss.”

Steve’s heart began to beat as he took a peek in at you through the clear glass of your shower, back against the wall as you held a sex toy to your pussy. The sight made him forget to breahe. The way you convulsed made his dick jump in his sweats. He rubbed himself to try and calm down, but your voice making those pretty sounds made him grab himself and chase friction against his clothes.

“Yes, Sir… would love to…suck… you…. offfff….fuck, Steve….!”

The sound of his name as you came made him feral and he hit his hand against the door frame. 

You stopped what you were doing as you looked toward the door. Steve used his best stealth tactics to go back to the couch, and that’s where he was when you came out of the bathroom in your robe.

“How much did you hear? Did you see anything?”

The way he was looking at you told you everything.

“I’m sorry, Steve. You were talking in your sleep, because of the movies. I got heated at what you said. Needed to relieve some tension. I understand if you want to stop meeting up. I’ve not been professional. Or a friend.”

“What did I say?”

“Hunh?”

Steve stood up and walked toward you. His voice was so deep. 

“What did I say when I was asleep?”

You gulped, but then you just said it.

“You said that you wanted to… suck my nipples and you said, ‘call me Captain when I suck your nipples. Sir when you suck me off…’”

Steve was closer now. 

“That wasn’t because of the movies.”

His hand was above you on the wall and you were staring up into his impossible blue eyes, which seemed to be shining in the dim light.

“It’s what I want to happen.”

“S-steve?”

Steve’s hand went to your hair, loosening the bun that you’d made for the shower.

“But I figured you only wanted to be friends, y’know?

“We are friends. That’s what you established when you came to my office…”

Steve fisted your braids in his hand and drew your head toward his. 

“I needed your help, true. But I was trying to get close to you without knowing how to make my move. Didn’t think you wanted me too, but what I just saw you doing in that bathroom. What I heard you saying, Libby…”

He stopped, his lips mere centimeters from yours.

“Christ, do you know how that ruined me?”

You whimpered in your throat and closed the distance between you.

If a supersoldier could slam someone against the wall gently, that is what Steve Rogers did to you as his lips and tongue explored yours. Your hands found his hair and tugged as he pulled yours, and your body pressed against his.

Steve pressed soft kisses all along your face. When he finally reached your lips, he teased you, barely touching them, causing you to whimper. He deepened the kiss, his tongue licking at yours, daring it to follow. Your mind was completely blown, and when you separated for air, Steve asked a question.

“So. Can you call me Captain when I suck your nipples? Sir when you suck me off?”

Your eyes met his and you made a silent agreement.

“Oh Yes, Sir.”

“Hmmmmmm.” 

Steve closed his eyes and groaned.

“Good girl. Correct answer.”

Steve kissed you again and this time his hands explored your body too. Your skin was moist and hot from the shower, and he ignited it even more. You writhed against him, brushing your nipples against his chest, causing them to swell and thicken. He groaned into your mouth, and it sent a pool of desire straight to your core. His hard cock pressed into your thigh insistently, and you reached into his sweats to wrap your hand around the rigid length of it.

“Jesus….” 

Steve’s ragged breath huffed into your face as his hand found your breasts and weighed them, rolling each of your nipples between his thumbs. You continued to stroke him, causing his hips to jerk up into your palm, beads of moisture helping to lubricate your hand as you stroked him as best you could, struggling to grip his girth. 

“Is this gonna fit in my mouth? In my pussy?”

Steve growled and kissed you again, his fingers parting your robe and dipping between your thighs. You shivered as first, one impossibly long thick finger slipped inside your slick heat, then two.

“We’ll make it work. You are so wet. So ready. And that mouth. If I can just experience you trying, I’d struggle not to blow my load, Libby. M’ struggling right now with just your hand.” 

“Let’s go to my bed.”

“Give me one now.”

“But-”

“What did I just say Lieutenant? Who is in command?”

Lust rocked your body at Steve pulling rank. You whimpered again.

“You are, Captain.”

“That’s right. Now stay here, and take this like the soldier you are.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Steve rewarded you with a kiss and then trailed more down your neck, moving south. He paused, his breath warming the skin over one of your swollen peaks. You were in agony.

“Captain, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Please let me feel your lips.”

“As you wish.” 

You writhed as he kissed everywhere except where you wanted him. You tugged on his hair, which did nothing to dissuade him from his mission of driving you crazy. 

“I love that you are so desperate for me, Lib. So damn attractive.”

He hovered over your nipple as he teased it with the hot air from his mouth, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain!”

Steve added his thumb to the mix of his fingers pumping in and out of you. He kept the pace consistent, no matter how much you tried to move against his fingers. Chuckling, he finally settled his lips around your nipple and hallowed his cheeks as he drew you into his mouth, causing your pussy to shudder to gush over his fingers as you came.

“C-captain!”

“Yes, Doll?” 

“N-need you to fuck me. Please.” 

“Who’s in command?” 

He grazed your nipple with his teeth. 

“You, Captain, I—” 

Steve withdrew his fingers from your cunt.

“Can you call me Sir first?”

You looked into his eyes and suddenly you wanted nothing more. You dropped to your knees in your living room, not caring how the hardwood felt on your knees. Relishing it, even.

Steve pushed your robe off your shoulders and it pooled around you as you watched him take off his t-shirt and pull down his sweats and boxers. You practically drooled at the sight of the thick tan staff in front of your face.

You watched Steve’s thick fingers grab the base of himself and squeeze and you looked up to see him clenching his jaw.

“You’ are trying to make me blow my load on your face with those eyes of yours, Lieutenant. Maybe I should ask you again. Who is in charge here?” 

“You Sir. Let me taste you, please?”

You were topping him with a request, but Steve let it slide as his cock slid past your lips and tongue.

“So fucking hot. Isn’t that what the kids say?”

Steve took your head in his hands as you put your hands behind your back and let him fuck your face. You hummed an acknowledgement as Steve groaned above you. Your pussy was sopping wet at this point.

Steve let go of your head and braced himself against the wall as he warned you through clenched teeth.

“Do you want this? Because… it….fuck… here it comes….”

You prepared yourself and swallowed quite a lot of Steve’s cum, which tasted surprisingly good. You moaned your approval as he gave you his spend.

He grasped himself again and pulled his still hard cock out of your mouth as you grinned up at him. 

“I could do that all day, Doll." He licked his lips as he looked down at you.

"Where is your bedroom again?”

You smiled and took his hand as he helped you to stand, and he followed you to your bedroom, nodding his head toward your California king.

“Get on the bed.”

Steve watched as you obeyed and stroked himself. Then, he kneeled beside you and ran his fingers along your body.

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this.”

You rolled under his touch, desire consuming you.

“Please…Steve”

Steve sighed, but secretly thrilled that his dream was coming true. You were begging him for it.

“I thought you knew what this was, who was in charge…”

He rolled your nipple and then pinched it when you said,

"You are, Sir!"

Steve rolled his big body over yours, supporting himself with his arms over your head. His cock nudged your wet slit, and he swore. 

“So damn good, Doll.” 

You moved your hips, trying for friction, or the goal, penetration, desperate now. 

“Please, Steve, don’t make me wait. I need you. I’m yours.”

Steve stilled, and looked into your eyes.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that…that you’re mine?” 

His tongue licked at your bottom lip before he kissed you. 

“I’m not letting you go.” 

His hips started moving, sliding his rigid member through your folds before testing your entrance. His eyes stuttered closed at the resistance there and at the way you slowly yielded open for him. Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you out like never before, fully sliding into you.

You both gasped as he bottomed out, and you gazed at each other, getting lost in the moment. You knew you would never be the same as you met Steve’s thrusts and he didn’t break eye contact as he stroked you to the most mind-numbing orgasm you’d ever had, embarrassingly quickly. 

Steve stroked lazily for a few minutes before he pulled out, turned you over and admired your back, tenderly kissing your shoulder blades.

“You are so beautiful. Everywhere.”

He lined up to your sopping wet pussy and slowly breached you again.

“What is the proper response, Lieutenant?”

“To what, Sir?”

Steve’s head dropped so that his hair brushed your neck and his tongue traced your spine, causing you to arch your back as he slid all of the way home.

“To the statement of fact that you are beautiful. Everywhere.”

His voice was a desperate groan, and so sexy.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, and kept your mouth open, searching for air because you almost forgot how to breathe.

Steve smacked your ass.

“That’s not correct.”

He was going hard now, and his voice was strained. He was close.

“Y-yes, Sirrrrrrr!”

You came again, pussy clutching Captain America’s cock. Steve became the most profane you’d ever heard him.

“Feels so fucking good, Doll. Love this ass, and this tight, wet, pussy. Fuckkkkk!”

Steve roared as you felt his hot ropes of cum spurt inside you, triggering yet another orgasm.

“Oh my goddd!”

You collapsed and Steve moved so that you were still connected, but on your sides.

“We’ve got to finish the movie. Need to find out what happens with Mookie…”

"Yes, Sir."

But Steve was falling asleep, and you looked over your shoulder at the super soldier who looked more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. You kissed his arm, which was wound around you, and which was holding you tight.

—--

The next Thursday, you were in your office when you heard a commotion. You looked out of your window as you saw Captain Rogers striding toward your office, this time in uniform, his hat under his arm. You closed your blinds and went to stand outside the door of your space as he moved nearer to you.

Damn. You should never have told Steve how much him being in uniform affected you.

“Captain Rogers, this is a surprise.”

You kept your eyes straight ahead as you stood at attention and he moved around you.

“I need your help again, Lieutenant. In your office. Now.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“At ease.”

You relaxed as Steve put his hat on your desk, advanced upon you, putting his hands on your waist as he kissed you silly while easily lifting you and placing you on your desk. He backed up to take a look at you as you crossed your legs.

“I’m here to inspect your uniform today, Lieutenant. From this view, it looks splendid.”

“Thank you, Sir.” 

You straightened your torso and pulled on your jacket, but you knew that he was speaking about the fact that you’d worn a skirt today, as he requested.

“I’m interested to see if you followed all instructions.”

Steve’s hands were on your thighs and he pulled them apart and got on his knees before you. He smiled and licked his lips as he saw that you were in fact, not wearing any underwear. He also could smell your arousal and opened his mouth to breathe it in. He was transfixed. You snapped him out of it when you asked him a question.

“You said you needed help, Sir?”

He looked up at your cocky grin.

“Yes, lieutenant. Need you to help me with a new term I came across today in my reading. Cunnilingus?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Of course Sir.”

It was all you could say as Captain Steve Rogers inspected your uniform from underneath your skirt.

------

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[bucks-babe]

Not Like This

Summary: A night at the bar doesn’t go the way Bucky or you ever thought

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: established relationship, Bucky trying to get Steve a date, angst, attempted drugging with the intention of SA (nothing happens though), mentions of a knife/stabbing (doesn’t happen), smut, but like angsty smut not the sexy smut, Bucky being a huge idiot, lack of communication, dub-con/bordering non-con at times, degradation, oral m!rec, subspace, manhandling, very mean Bucky, safeword being called, crying, spanking, self-hatred, insecurities, self-reflection, aftercare, scared Bucky and reader, overstepping boundaries, communication at the end, some fluff

A/N: This is my gift to @buckys-wintersoldier for her birthday! This fic contains topics that maybe sensitive to some people. This is your last warning. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Updates are posted to my side blog @bucks-babesideblog

“This is getting hard to watch, Buck.” You grimace and turn your head towards your boyfriend. Steve stands on the dancefloor in a futile attempt to talk to the girl he’s been eyeing up for the past hour and a half. Bucky takes another swig of his beer before meeting your eyes with the same grimace. “ You should go and help him.”

“And what am I supposed to do, doll?” Bucky leans back in the booth, left arm resting behind your head as he whispers in your ear. A shiver passes through your body and your thighs clench involuntarily. His scent mixes with the faint smell of his last beer and the crowded bar’s sweaty stench.

“Go play wingman, apparently you were great at it in the 40’s.” You playfully nudge him away, mostly because you can’t think straight when he’s pressed so close to you, your body craves his already and you don’t need to make it any harder for yourself. “While you’re at it, I’ll get myself another drink.”

Bucky grumbles as you stand up without giving him a kiss. “Make sure you put it on my tab, doll.”

You giggle as you spin around to face him, dress swaying as you do so. “You know I will, hotstuff.” You take your seat at the bar and signal for the bartender, turning around to watch Bucky try and get Steve a date. You thank him as he places your drink down, but before you can get up, another man seats himself in the stool right next to yours.

“Hello, gorgeous.” At first you don’t realize that he’s talking to you, too caught up in the way Bucky’s muscles flex as he gestures to Steve. “I say, you’ve caught my eye tonight. Mind if I ask your name? I’m Jake.” It dawns on you that he wasn’t talking to anyone else, only you.

As you go to turn around to decline his horrible attempt at flirting, you see him slip a pill into your open drink out of the corner of your eye, so fast that none of the other patrons nor the bartender saw, but you did. Ice shoots through your veins. He tried to drug you. What do you do now? Leave? That would look suspicious. Call the bartender and say that it wasn’t the right drink? No, he heard your specific order.

“Umm,” you trail off. At first you were gauging how far you would have to run to make it to Bucky, but then you saw the pocket knife bulging out from underneath the man’s shirt. “Sorry, I’m here with my boyfriend.” Good, let him know I’m not alone.

“Him? Well he seems quite friendly with the lady in blue over there.” You don’t turn to look, not trusting to take your eyes off of him. “If I were him, we wouldn’t even have made it to the bar when you’re wearing a number like that.” He lets out a low whistle, eyes hungrily raking up and down your body.

You want to yell out for anyone to come over, but you’re too scared when you know that he has a knife. Yes, Bucky is a super soldier, but Jake could stab you faster than Bucky could reach you. “We have an open relationship actually.” Open relationship, really? Why would I fucking say that?

“So you’re telling me that I have a chance.” His beatty eyes lock in on your cleavage and you shift around uncomfortably. “Why don’t you have a sip of your drink? You seem pretty tense over there.” You pick up your drink with shaky hands before bringing the straw to your lips. You pretend to take a small sip which makes Jake smile, showing off his smoke stained teeth. “There you go, good girl.” Where the hell is Bucky? Come on, please come back.

You’re practically shaking in fear as his sweaty palm lands on your knee, creeping up to your thigh. Behind you resides Bucky who has overheard most of the conversation. Anger doused his entire body. He didn’t see Jake drug your drink or how scared you were, too caught up in your words. Open relationship? Letting him call you good girl? Touching you?

You almost shriek when Bucky’s metal hand grabs your wrist, pulling you away, but you instantly relax when you notice that Bucky’s come to save you. The fear still lingers under the surface but it feels like you can breathe without a heavy weight on your chest. “Thank god, Bucky. I-” He cuts you off as he spins around, flesh hand wrapping around your neck.

“Thank what? I leave you for five minutes and you turn into a little slut, huh?” Your eyes widen. There’s no way that he thinks that you wanted to even talk to that man at the bar. Before you can answer he lets your neck go and continues to drag you along. “Keep your fucking mouth shut. You want to be a little slut,” he pushes you into the passenger seat of his car before slamming the door and getting in the driver seat. “Then you can keep your mouth stuffed with my cock.”

He doesn’t even look at you as he slides his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his semi hard cock. He doesn’t see the tears welling up, or how you’re silently begging for him to comfort you, hug you. To tell you that everything is going to be okay, you’re safe and he loves you, but no, Bucky is furious at you.

You feel yourself start to slip into subspace, the fear of your previous situation in addition to Bucky’s harsh words have you floating off into space. You want to please him, show him that he’s the only one you want, but you also don’t want to have sex right now. Either way, he grabs the back of your head and forces you down on his cock before slamming his foot on the gas, making you lurch in the car.

“Keep your fucking head right there. You’re gonna let me use you however the fuck I want since you seem to think that you’re not mine and I’m not yours. You really fucking think that I would want another pussy? Another mouth? Oh, shit. Choke on that fat cock. Think Jake can fill up your mouth like this?” For just one moment, you forgot about Jake, about what could have happened to you, but at the mention of his name you try to pull off, suddenly not wanting to have your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth.

“Don’t fucking run away from me. Never gonna share this perfect body. Shit, can feel you slobbering on my nuts. Bet you fucking like it too, being my little cocksucker.” No, you don’t like it, at least right now. I just want you to hold me.

“You’re so fucking good at this. Already gonna cum, ready? Fuck, gonna make me crash the fucking car just from some head. K-keep going, shit.” Tears stream down your face, partially from all your emotions bubbling over and partially from the brutal facefucking. His flesh hand grips the back of your neck and rails your head, spit and tears everywhere, makeup completely ruined, black streaks running down your face.

He cums with a shout, balls pulsing on your cheek where he holds you down. The breaks squeak as he pulls into your shared driveway, ripping you away from his dick. “You look fucking pathetic right now. Trying to get another man’s cock and then gobbling down mine it’s your only purpose.” You can’t find any love in his eyes, only rage and lust. More tears fall down your cheeks.

“B-b-buc-” You try to speak but your voice is hoarse from his cock ramming down your throat.

“Just get upstairs. On the bed, face down, ass up, naked.” If his jaw clenches anymore you’re sure he’ll break some teeth.

“Please, just let me-” He cuts you off again after you’re able to speak.

“Do what I said or else it’s gonna be much worse for you. I don’t take well to insolent whores.” Why can’t you see I need you?

Without another word, you head to the bedroom, trying to wipe away your makeup but only smearing it around even more. You don’t have any more fight left in you. All you want to do is forget the whole night, but you know that it’s nowhere near over. You do as you were told, grabbing the stuffie Bucky won for you at the carnival over a year ago and clutching it to your chest.

You gulp at the sound of Bucky’s clothes dropping to the floor. “Don’t make a sound.” It’s the only warning you get before his hand smacks against your ass, hard. You bite the stuffie, more and more tears falling from your eyes. He slaps your ass over and over again, no doubt leaving bruises. By the end, you’re so deep in subspace that all you want to do is please him.

It doesn’t matter that you don’t want to have sex, that what you want from him is his warmth and comfort. If you make him happy then he will take care of you after. You need to please him, make him proud of you. Just take the punishment. Don’t make him angrier.

Without warning, he slams into your cunt, driving in and out with no regard for your pleasure. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, and you could tell just based on his thrusts. He was using you to get himself off. This is what Jake planned on doing to me, isn’t it? You bite onto the stuffie harder. It hurts, but it feels so good. This is what I deserve.

He cums in your pussy but doesn’t stop moving. The added lubrication makes his thrusts easier and the pleasure starts to build in your stomach. Trying to hide your moans as you near the edge only for him to pull out and slap your ass again and again before railing you again. You try to reach a hand back, maybe to get him to slow down, maybe just because you needed to feel some sort of tenderness, but he only pushes your hand away.

Any thoughts of Jake leave your mind with every plunge of Bucky’s cock. You melt into the mattress, focusing on the pleasure Bucky’s bringing you. He loves me, that’s why he’s so mad. “Fuck, pussy’s so fucking good, never want to leave her. M’going to fuck this little cunt all night if I want to.” Do I want that? It feels so good, but I want him to cuddle me.

You can feel your orgasm build up in your stomach, threatening to burst at any moment. “Can I cum?” It’s the first words you’ve said since he started fucking you. For a fleeting second you think that he’ll pull out again and take your orgasm away, but he only fucks you harder, right hand coming down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles. It hurts in the best way, throwing you over the edge as you cream all over his dick.

“Good girl, no one else can make you cum like me, can they?”

Those two words take you right back to the bar, where the threat of what Jake could have done is still fresh. “RED!” Mid orgasm, your mind reels in fear. Bucky pulls out immediately, all the rage coursing through his body leaving at once. You collapse on the bed, curling into the fetal position, still clutching the stuffed animal to your chest as sobs take over your body.

Bucky shakes as he watches you fall apart. He has no idea what really happened at the bar but he knows that he pushed you too far. He replays every word and act that occurred in the past hour. How he didn’t let you talk, how you looked so small, like you were trying to curl into yourself, how he didn’t even look at you as he shoved his cock down your throat. All the names he called you, the roughness, the lack of care.

He tries to reach out to you, but you jerk away, sobbing harder. Panic swells in his chest. What did he do? How could he hurt the love of his life? Bucky gets off the bed and heads to the bathroom, getting a damp washcloth and walking over to your side of the bed, crouching down so that he is at eye level with you. “Doll?” You whimper in response yet meet his eyes. “Can I clean you up?” You give a small jerk of your head, all you can muster.

Bucky’s heart drops to his stomach as he sees your swollen cunt. He caused that. As gently as he can, he wipes away his cum and your juices before tossing the rag across the room and settling next to you, leaving space so that you can decide if you want to cuddle with him. You crave his warmth so you curl yourself into his side, sighing at the comfort his skin brings.

Self hatred licks at his spine. He wants to run away, not giving himself the chance to do anymore harm, but you need him and he can’t let you down again, not after what he did. Eventually, your sobs ebb and your tense body relaxes. “He tried to drug me.” You say it so quietly that if Bucky didn’t have enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have caught it.

He jolts away, ignoring your whimper at the loss of contact. The morsel of responsibility that was keeping him next to you vanishes. He treated you like a whore, thinking that you were flirting with another man, when in reality you were just trying to keep yourself safe. Bucky stands and paces the room, darker and darker thoughts run through his mind.

“He what?” Bucky can’t breathe, he can’t fathom what he just put you through after one of the worst experiences of your life just happened. You needed him and he wasn’t there in the way you needed.

You try to keep the tears at bay, but you can’t help it. “He slipped something in my drink when he thought I wasn’t looking. I was so scared and you were so far away. I-I didn’t know what to do. I thought if I stalled him long enough I would be okay until you came back.” You shrink into yourself again, the stuffies head tilted at an odd angle at the force you were applying.

“And then I, I let myself, I should have-” He can’t think straight. Anger flairs inside of him. At himself, at the man at the bar. “I’m so sorry.” Tears stream freely down his face as he rounds to where you lay, dropping to his knees.

“Please hold me.” Bucky jumps back into bed, he was fully ready for you to kick him out, hit him, make him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, but not for you to want him to touch you again, not after the pain and fear he inflicted. “I just want to be held, want you to love me.”

“I do love you, sweet girl. I love you so goddamn much it hurts. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have listened to you, should have seen how uncomfortable you were, but I was so caught up in my own head, that you were looking for someone else because I wasn’t good enough.” He hastily wipes his tears away before wrapping his arms around your frame. “And that is no excuse for what I did. I let my own insecurities blind me and I hurt you as a result.”

He trails off before speaking the words that he has been too scared to ask before, but he knows the answer to. “You didn’t want to have sex, did you?” It’s framed as a question, but he says it like a statement, because he knows that you didn’t. Not at the time, mostly because of his own rage, but if he would have thought about more than himself he would have.

“I wanted to please you, though. Thought if I took my punishment that you wouldn’t be mad at me anymore.” Bucky feels his heart break in two. You didn’t have to answer his question. His stomach churns at the fact that the only reason you went through with anything was because you thought that you needed to, for him to treat you the way you deserve, with love and devotion.

You don’t blame him, maybe it’s because you still are so deep in subspace, but either way, he’s taking care of you now. “You never have to do something you don’t want to do just because of me. You know that right?” Clearly, he made you feel like you had to.

“Please, it’s not just your fault. I could have tapped your leg three times, I could have said our safeword long before you fucked me.”

“But I didn’t even let you fucking talk.” You see the hurt in his eyes, not at you, but at himself.

“My hands were free. I could have tapped you at any time. This isn’t just on you. We both fucked up.”

“The only reason you didn’t was because you felt like you had to please me though.” Why is he so desperate to put all the blame onto himself?

“Partially, but also because I wanted to forget about what happened. I thought that if we had sex that your touch could wash away his. But when I knew it couldn't, I should have stopped you.” Both of your eyes were red and full of tears. “Neither of us are exempt from the blame, okay?”

Bucky nods his head, not fully believing you, but not wanting to fight about it. “Can we take a bath and cuddle? We can talk about it tomorrow. I just want to be held right now.” With shuddering breath, Bucky nods his head and picks you up, taking you to the bathroom to get the tub ready.

You both have to work to get past this, to understand what you both could have done better to prevent it from happening again, but you still trust Bucky with your life. There is no love or trust lost between the two of you. It happened and you can’t change that. You doubt that you’ll be going to any bars soon, and there’s going to be a lot of trauma that you’ll both have to work through. Him with his insecurities and you with how easy it would have been for someone to take advantage of you, how you didn’t communicate your needs. But you have Bucky and he has you, and he is going to do everything in his power to make this up to you, that this never happens again.

[lushrue]

141 + könig & graves as college professors (fem!reader) nsfw, mdni

cw: p-in-v sex, creampie, semi-public sex, power imbalance/unethical relationship, age gap (everyone's legal), oral (f!receiving), bondage, oral (m!receiving)

price teaches military strategy, a more theoretical and scientific look at war and battle tactics. he’s done the field work, he knows what it takes to physically carry out a mission. but he values the skill behind the planning a bit more than the execution. would definitely give real-world examples with missions he’s carried out with as much detail as he can provide. has classes outside some days. he tells his students it’s because the weather’s nice, but he really just wants to smoke.

he’s one to stare when you show up to class in a short skirt or low-cut top. he’s not shy about it, but he’s tactful, not letting his gaze settle for too long. won’t fuck you in his office, too nervous his colleagues would hear. so he comes to your dorm room sometimes when your roommate’s out, or he’ll take you to a hotel and treat you nice with room service and the whole deal. absolutely obsessed with the way his cum drips down your thighs, takes some pictures to jerk off to later.

ghost maybe teaches something like warfare tactics. something that would only be taught at a military college, something hands-on. he takes his job educating the next generation of soldiers seriously. insists that his course have both a lecture and lab section. he’s getting his students up at the ass-crack of dawn to run drills, even if they’re not currently serving. they wanted to know how to win a war, so he’ll show them.

kinda hard to convince, tbh. he’s fine pushing the bounds when it comes to rules of engagement, but this? still, when you prove yourself, when you beat out everyone else on the obstacle course, he jumps at the chance for some extra tutoring sessions with you. the fact that you look good in a sports bra and leggings is just a bonus. he’ll definitely fuck you in the gym bathroom after a training session. he’ll drag you into a stall and lock the door, hold you up if your legs are too tired from the workout he put you through.

soap teaches something not military-related, i think. maybe chemistry or physics with his demolitions background? very into demonstrations in his classes, likes to make shit blow up or fly across the room for the wow factor. he’s set the fire alarms off in the science lab more than once. definitely has a high score on rate my professor, one of the most sought after in the whole physical science department.

fucks you in the science lab. you’d come to him during office hours, cause the subjects he teaches have a really low pass rate. it’d start with actual homework help before devolving into heavy petting and kisses as a reward for correct answers. he’ll test your concentration, making you recite newton’s laws or the ratio of reactant to product. when you fumble, he’ll just chuckle and mumble something about how your head is too fuzzy for science. not too fuzzy for him to bully his cock into you, though.

gaz teaches something intro level. we’re talking “intro to military studies” or “intro to war and peace”. he’s really lenient on due dates, doesn’t have the really strict attitude that a lot of intro level professors have. he’s chill, one of those professors that does everything he can to work with you. won’t suffer a slacker, though. if you don’t do the work, don’t expect him to round your grade up at the end of the semester.

he won’t fuck you while you’re still enrolled in one of his classes. he knows himself, the temptation would be too strong if he had to see you for 55 minutes three times a week and couldn’t touch you. so he waits until the semester is over. but best believe he’s dragging you into some secluded corner of the building the minute you hand in your final. tells you about every single time he’s wanted to touch you, every time you’ve almost made him break his own rule. he makes it up to you, though, eating you out in the hallway and making you come on his tongue twice.

könig teaches german. falling a bit into the stereotype here, but i feel like this man has a really strong love of country. he’d definitely teach the culture alongside the language. he probably has an oktoberfest celebration for his students, lets the older ones drink beer if they want. he tells stories all the time about growing up in austria and will get sidetracked for a whole class just talking about life.

when he’s trying to seduce you, he’s a gentle giant. always cooing praises at you about how pretty you are, how well you’re taking to the language, that you’re a natural. but the moment you give in, he lets himself indulge. everything he’s ever wanted to act out, he does with you. if he’s stroked his thick cock to someone else doing it on his computer screen, he wants to try. it’s how you find yourself tied up in his bed, silk rope wrapped around your body as he fucks your throat. always dirty talks to you in german, giving you praise when you figure out what he’s saying.

graves teaches something niche, a class on terrorism in America or something like that. he gets really into it too. he’s known for being really animated in his lectures, gets really loud sometimes. other professors hate having a class in the lecture hall next to his. appreciates the students who stay after class to talk to him more in depth about his lectures. he knows the material can be dull sometimes, but he always has a few that are really passionate about what he teaches.

you’re one of those few. he’s embarrassed to admit that he falls for you, the way your eyes sparkle when he starts talking about some fringe terror group he helped to squash when he was serving. you always give him your rapt attention and he eats it up. takes you on dates to nice restaurants a few towns over so you won’t run into anyone either of you know. likes to fuck you over his desk after office hours are over. once, he shoved his boxers in your mouth and fucked you in the middle of the afternoon, when anyone could walk in. that time was your favorite.

[sugar-phoenix]

cowboy, you have a hard time wrapping things up neatly. ✦

synopsis: Boothill doesn't do things quietly. He's loud, and messy, and he likes doing things his way. Even though these all annoy you somewhat, the cowboy starts growing on you. And then one day, he does something unexpected. tags: f!reader, f/m, no smut, fluff, light angst, mentions of Boothill's past a/n: 2.5k words, this was a lot of fun to write. hope you guys enjoy it!

ao3 link here!

Your heels clacked as you walked down the halls, the ground littered with bodies and empty bullet shells. You sighed. Unlike Boothill, who left the remains of IPC soldiers and his mark everywhere in the form of bullet holes dotting the walls, you preferred to do your work neater, quieter. His loud whoops and hollers echoed down the corridor from ahead, making you cringe.

There were many things Boothill was in excess of. Too fierce. Too exposed. Too gleeful. Too loud.

You were not fond of loud.

“I got the place cleared for you, ma’am.” Boothill’s voice rang out like a bell.

“I noticed,” you responded, turning into the server room. In front of you, server towers loomed overhead, blinking with a million eyes. “You’re not very subtle, cowboy.”

“Subtle? Why would I wanna be subtle when I could strike fear into the heart of the IPC?” Boothill chuckled.

“Being subtle can be pretty scary,” you mused, going to the main terminal and typing the code you were given. “What could instigate more fear than an invisible threat you can’t see?”

“I dunno. I like to think that knowin’ who your enemy is and knowin’ that nothing can stop him is way more scary, lady.”

Boothill sank his pistol into his holster, then strode over to where you were standing, the sound of his body moving like oiled machinery.

“After all, ain’t knowin’ how you’ll die the most terrifyin’ thing of all?”

“Touché,” you conceded, scanning the database for the folder you wanted. Boothill waited at your side, and you felt a little shock that the man who was, only minutes ago a whirlwind of gunmetal and gleaming sharp teeth, could now stand so still.

Finally, you found the folder you were looking for, and you loaded it into a drive you inserted into the terminal. Boothill had offered the use of his own ports as a way to store the data, but you had refused. Data was no good to you if you could not parse through it with your own eyes.

“Alright, we’re done here,” you said as the download finished. “Let’s get out of this place.”

The cowboy at your side said nothing but smiled, flashing his razor teeth. You both stepped out into the hallway, only to be met with a new squadron of IPC guards.

“Looks like they sent the calvalry,” you remarked.

“Yeah? Well, if you know anythin’ about cowboys, you’ll know that we don’t take kindly to calvalry.”

And with that, he was off, shooting and hollering and kicking. You ducked back into the server room, letting the cowboy have his fun, and shook your head. When the sound of gunfire had stopped, Boothill leaned around the corner.

“‘S all clear! I took care of ‘em.”

You stepped out to find a pile of bodies and more bullet holes in the walls. Well, I guess this time it couldn’t be helped.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like my handiwork?” Boothill commented at your slightly dismayed expression.

“Cowboy,” you sighed, “you have a hard time wrapping things up neatly.”

He only laughed, a rough raucous sound that reverberated down the hallway as the two of you made your exit.

✦✦✦

You stood in the middle of the ballroom in a shape-hugging red gown, fanning yourself with a paper hand fan. Eyes searching the surrounding crowd, you looked for the familiar cowboy hat. You found Boothill standing against the back of the room, looking absolutely miserable in his suit. A smile creeped up your lips. It took a lot of hemming and hawing to get him to wear that suit.

“I need my body bare, otherwise I’ll overheat,” he’d said.

“Boothill, darling, it’ll just be for the night. You’re going to cause an uproar if you just walk in with that sorry excuse for a jacket. It would be absolutely scandalous. We need to be subtle tonight.” You had adopted the pet name after a few missions with him. The two of you were slowly becoming fond of each other.

“What’s wrong with a little ruckus?” Boothill had asked. “I like ruckus.”

“I know you do, but just this once we could do without it. Come on. You get to cause ruckus every other mission we’ve had so far. You can live without making noise just this once.”

To your surprise, he conceded, taking the suit from your hands and walking to a room, muttering and cursing under his breath.

Now you felt a little sorry as you watched him. He looked like a dog that had been forced into a humiliating outfit just for its owner’s enjoyment.

Your eyes met, and you flashed your fan over your face. The signal. You had gotten what you came here for. Relief flashed over Boothill’s face, and he made his way through the crowd to you as you started walking towards the exit.

You stopped abruptly when you saw the exit.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Boothill asked, then, “oh,” as he saw what caused you to pause.

The archways were lined with more security guards than either of you had remembered when you first came in.

“They know we’re here,” you whispered. “They’re waiting to catch us on the way out.”

Boothill said nothing. You saw the calculations happen in his crosshair eyes. Slowly, he smiled, revealing his shark teeth in a devilish grin.

“Oh Boothill. No.” You said with dread.

“Oh but we don’t have much o’ a choice, do we?” he whispered. “Just let me do what I do best, darlin’.”

You looked at him, and he caught the worry in your eyes.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me. I always get out, don’t I?”

You sighed.

“Fine.”

Boothill smiled wider than he had the entire night, and stepped away from you, making his way back into the crowd. You reached under the slit in your dress, hand on the dagger strapped to your thigh. The feeling of the hilt under your hand grounded you. It wasn’t long until you heard three deafening gunshots, and glass raining down from above. Chaos and panic erupted, and over all of them, the familiar laugh you’d grown to love. You watched as the archways were flooded, and the guards rushed towards the cause of the ruckus.

Taking the chance, you merged in with the panicked crowd streaming outside the ballroom, as more gunshots echoed behind you. Once you were out, you rushed to your sports car, and got into the driver’s seat. It roared to life as you turned the ignition, and you took it out of the car park and drove it to wait in front of the entrance. Panicked partygoers ran around your car, but your eyes were focused on the entrance. The way you white-knuckled the steering wheel would definitely leave imprints.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered. “Come on, cowboy.”

A beat passed, then two, then ten, and Boothill was nowhere to be seen. You got anxious, watching the large golden arches that led into the ballroom with the giant crystal chandelier that hung above them outside.

Just when you were about to accept that Boothill had been captured, or worse, dead, he emerged from the entrance, a crazed grin on his face, his expensive suit torn in shreds. You sighed in relief. Just before he reached the car, he turned around, aiming upwards, and pulled his trigger. Five bullets flew through the air, severing the chains of the giant chandelier. The guards chasing Boothill were trapped in the ballroom as the light fixture fell to the ground in front of them, shattered glass scattering everywhere. Boothill cackled, then leapt over the hood, taking his seat in the passenger side. You wasted no time flooring the gas pedal, the car screeching away from the ballroom.

“Should teach those muddlefudgers not to waste money on showin’ off,” Boothill laughed.

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

“Hard time wrapping things up neatly,” you said.

“That’s just my trademark, darlin.’”

The two of you glanced at each other, grinning wildly, as your car sped into the night.

✦✦✦

You gazed out the windows of the Astral Express. The endless expanse of space unrolled before you, a landscape of endless opportunities.

Boothill had been called to the Astral Express for a favor, and he thought you should tag along.

“They’re a pretty cool bunch, you should come meet ‘em. Who knows, they might come in handy for ya in the future.”

You didn’t need the cowboy’s persuasion to come and meet the famed Nameless. You were more than happy for a chance to come face to face with these trailblazers, to converse with them and see how they operated.

The Astral Express crew surprised you at first. They were less of an organized team and more like a ragtag family of people from all different walks of life. Pom Pom, the little conductor of the express, scrutinized you for a bit until they sniffed (disapprovingly or approvingly you couldn’t tell), and announced, “Pom Pom welcomes you aboard the Express.”

Soon after, you got to meet the rest of the Express crew. There was March 7th, the cheerful girl with bubblegum-pink hair. There was Dan Heng, the quiet, reserved young man who often kept to himself in the Astral Express' database archives. There was Stelle, the mysterious gray-haired girl who was apparently a repository for a Stellaron. She kept quiet at first, but soon you learned she had a joke for every occasion and didn't hesitate to crack one even at the most inopportune moments, to the chagrin of her companions. Then to the two stewards of the Express: Himeko, the red-haired, confident navigator, and Welt, deep in thought and with a walking stick he kept close to himself at all times.

 Boothill seemed to fit right in. He was the one who introduced you excitedly to Dan Heng, cackling and talking about how they were “best buds.” Despite Dan Heng’s embarassment at first, you could tell he enjoyed the presence of the cowboy. In that way, you felt a sort of kinship with him.

 The two of you hung out on the Express for a few days, as Boothill helped them with one of their trips. They were currently orbiting a planet named Jarilo VI. Boothill had encouraged you to stay aboard the Express and take a break, but today, Himeko saw you watching the window.

"If you want, you can go down with the rest of them," she said.

"I think I might,” you responded. “Forget what Boothill said about taking a break, I'm at my happiest when I'm working on something anyway."

She smiled knowingly.

It wasn't long before you landed on the cold planet, and it was an even shorter time before you found the crew. Stelle, March, Dan Heng, and Boothill were in a clinic, accompanied by a small child with bright yellow hair and a doctor who wore a large apron. You'd soon come to know that these two were Hook and Natasha, respectively.

Boothill made a show of being upset that you weren't on the Express, but you could tell that he was very happy you had decided to join them after all.

Apparently the crew had been on a wild goose chase, and to your mild disappointment they were finished with the whole affair. Stelle, March 7th, and Boothill all attempted to explain the situation to you, and Dan Heng kept sighing and correcting them every five sentences, so in the end you understood very little.

As the four of you walked out of the clinic, Hook caught up to Boothill and tugged at his pants.

"You aren't leaving, mister, are you?"

Boothill turned around, and in a manner you'd previously thought uncharacteristic, he crouched down and ruffled the young girl's hair.

"I am, sweetheart," he replied.

 "But, but, you're a member of the Moles now! You have to stay with us."

"Oh, and I'm only an *honorary* member?" Stelle asked, in mock anger. Hook giggled mischievously, then turned back to the cowboy.

"Also, I need your help with something," she added.

"Oh? What's that?" Boothill asked. Hook produced a strange trinket from one of her pockets.

"I wanna give this to my daddy, but I dunno how to wrap it up."

Boothill chuckled, ruffling her hair again.  “Your daddy sure is lucky to have a little girl like you.”

Then he did something that was so unexpected, the action of it was seared into your memory forever.

Slowly, he took off the bandana from around his neck, and laid it flat on the ground. Then, he took the trinket from Hook's hands and put it on top of the bandana, in the center. Deftly, and with a gentleness you'd seen from him very rarely, Boothill wrapped up the object with careful folding and gentle knots, then presented the object to Hook.

"There you go. And once your daddy opens it, you can wrap the bandana around your own neck, and I'll be there with ya and the Moles in spirit."

Tears sprung to Hook's eyes and she surged forward, hugging his neck and wailing loudly. Boothill chuckled, patting her back tenderly.

✦✦✦

The crisis with Jarilo VI solved, you and Boothill bade the Astral Express crew goodbye and went on your way. In the small spaceship you sat in, you gave Boothill a look.

What Hook and the Astral Express Crew didn't know was that the bandana he wore around his neck was very dear to him. A remnant of his past, a past that he had talked very little about with you, even though the two of you had gotten very close with each other.

Boothill sighed, feeling your gaze on him. "You wanna ask me about what happened with the girl, I can tell."

"Well, I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I guess that's fine with me--" you started.

"No, no it's fine. It's somethin' I should've told ya long before. It's just painful for me is all."

You wanted to tell him that it was okay for him not to tell you, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

"What I never told you before, darlin’, was that I used to have a little girl of my own."

You raised a hand to your mouth. Never in your life would you have thought that the man in front of you—loud, brash and reckless—was ever a father.

"Before I was a Galaxy Ranger, before I got this metal body that I have now, I used to be just a cowboy. And one day I found myself with a daughter. Precious thing, loved her to death." He paused, taking in a deep breath, then let it out. "The IPC, they came to our planet... and they took her away from me. Took her and my whole family away from me. Razed everything I had to the ground.

 “That bandana I wore, well. It was my only reminder of her."

"Oh," you said, understanding why he was so guarded about it in the past. There was a long pause as you waited for Boothill to talk again.

 "But that girl, Hook," he started again, "she… reminded me of my daughter." Boothill took a shuddering breath. He had lost his ability to cry a long time ago, and you knew this, but sometimes he did things that told you he was weeping, invisibly. Until now you hadn't known what about.

"They would have been friends," he said softly.

"I'm sure they would have," you agreed.

You thought about the way he wrapped the gift for Hook.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" you asked.

"Do what?" he replied.

"What you did with the gift. How you folded it."

"Oh, that," he chuckled. "Some things you pick up being a dad."

There was another pause before you decided to speak again. "Well, I'll admit I was wrong about you then."

 "Wrong about what?" he asked, and you chuckled a little before answering.

"Turns out, cowboy, you do know how to wrap things up neatly."

Boothill laughed then, a soft, light sound, and you smiled.

comments are also very appreciated!

dividers by @cafekitsune

[cardierreh15]

Double Stuffed

Oreo’s aren’t the only thing that are double stuffed around these parts 😌 enjoy

***I do not give anyone permission or my consent to repost, translate or copy my work!

Warnings 18+: 3️⃣ sum, Cursing , Voyuerism , Oral Sex (Male Receiving) , Nipple Stimulation , Squirting , Facial , Penetration (Vaginal 🤟🏾) PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

Pairings: Gus March-Phillips(Henry Cavill) x Black!Plus Size Female(Regina) x Anders Lassen(Alan Ritchson)

Special Guest: Betty 💕 @augustsprincess

Description: Regina has the time of her life!

Word Count: 3.8K

‘Oh girl c’mon it’ll be fun!’ Betty exclaimed as she tugged Regina’s hands, pulling her in the direction of the pub that was booming with country music, soldiers in uniform lingering about.

‘Betty!’ She snatched her hand away, watching Betty stumble before once again gaining her footing. ‘Girl, my daddy is in the service! What if someone saw me in there!’ She whined out.

Her small friend pursed her lips together hard, dusting off her polka dotted dress in frustration and running her slender fingers through her freshly done candy curls.

‘Your daddy-‘ she said the words with bitterness. ‘Ain’t here.’ She let out a loud sigh and placed her hands on her hips, ‘Look. I know you’ve been under the weather since the death of your fiancé and—‘

‘Oooh—‘ Regina rolled her eyes, interrupting Betty. She let out a humorless scoff, ‘is this what this shit is about?! Getting me out of the house?!’

Betty gave her a look in bewilderment, glancing to the side with her hands remaining on her hips, ‘Uh yeah? Listen, let’s just treat it as a girl’s night?’ She walked up to her friend and draped her arm across her shoulders. ‘Look at these tall, delicious specimens huh?’ She waved her free hand slowly in the air. ‘Sure you could take one home!’

She was challenging her.

Regina glanced over at her friend and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, ‘Oh Betty, I don’t know. This is a bar full of… crazy, nut jobs … pent up from rage, exhaustion, … lust.’

‘Mmmhmm?’ Betty egged on with an encouraging nod.

‘M-maybe we should—‘

‘That’s my girl!’ Betty exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air before clasping them together happily. ‘See I knew you couldn’t stand a chance! Come on!’ Betty snatched up her friend’s hand and led the way towards the stairs. ‘I promise if you feel unsafe or it just gets too wild in here— we’ll leave!’

‘Mmph, say you swear.’ Regina retorted, stopping the both of them in their tracks. Her pretty brown eyes glistened beneath the pretty bulbs that hung above them.

‘Cross my heart,’ Betty turned halfway and drew an ‘X’ over her chest, ‘Hope to die. Now. Can we go inside?’ She jerked her head towards the door.

Her stoic glare instantly shifted into something lighter, her grin spread across her face, ‘OK fine let’s go.’

The two women walked inside of the bar, hand in hand. The place was only lit by some old lamps that were screwed into the walls, and one old rusted chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Honestly, if it weren’t for that old thing, you’d have to squint to look at folks.

‘Wow! Look at this place!’ Betty beamed as she placed her hand over cleavage. ‘It’s amazing.’

Regina’s brows tugged into one, ‘Are we looking at the same place?’

‘Oh Regina, don't be so judgemental! Look at all this … man meat.’ Betty giggled and glanced over at the bar. ‘Let’s go get a drink in ya? Help you… mellow out a lil bit.’

Without an ounce of warning, Betty led the way towards the bar.

It wasn’t until their stroll when whistles began to fill the air. Mumbling and cat calling could be heard throughout the loud hymns of the music.

Both of the women were beautiful in their own right. Betty was blonde, with perfect porcelain skin. She had a slender figure but the waist of her dress seemed to emphasize the curves in her hips and the one on her rump.

Regina had skin that was brown as terracotta. Glowing like bronze when in the path of the sun. Her hair was dark as the shadows of night, patterned with tight curls and coils that cascaded down her back. She wore a black velvet bodycon dress that also enhanced her curves, dimples and hip dips.

When they made it to the bar, the barkeeper seemed to be startled for a second.

‘Ladies—‘ he stammered and quickly placed the rag and glass down upon the bar top. ‘Aren’t you two beauties a sight for sore eyes,’ he spoke in a heavy accent. And by the knot in his bottom lip, his tobacco was the reason for his twang. ‘What can I do you for?’

Betty gave him a charming grin, batting her thick dark lashes. She was bashful and convivial by nature. ‘Hi there. Can you pour me and my friend somethinggg… pungent? Thank you.’

Regina snapped her head over at her friend, glaring at her with eyes of astonishment. ‘Betty!’ She hissed, quickly snatching her wrist up in her palm.

‘Whaaat?’

‘Pungent? Really? I would like to know how we get home, please.’ She muttered.

‘Oh please stop being dramatic! What’s the point of coming out tonight if we can’t make the best of it? Relax.’

Finally tearing her eyes away, Regina looked to her right to scope out the room. Men of all colors and sizes were either looking in their direction, laughing and gambling or drinking til their hearts were content.

This really didn’t feel like a safe place at all.

When the barkeeper brought their drinks back, Betty pulled up her small clutch, ‘How much do I owe you sir?’

‘Nothing at all ma’am.’ He said, raising his hand. ‘The gentleman over there is willing to pay for your tab.’

Both of the women looked back at the mysterious male, whose bright blue eyes spoke before his lips did. He sported a thick mustache over his lips with his dark hair combed back to perfection. He stood to his feet, adjusting his brown slacks around his hips. His coat was decorated in pretty devices and ribbons. Some big hot shot.

He looked like he wanted to snap her in half. She was small enough to make that accomplishment.

‘Oooh. Regina?’

‘Yeah?’ Regina said as she stared at the handsome hunk of man that approached them.

‘I think you might have to busy yourself for the rest of the night.’ Betty quickly scooted off the wooden bar stool and knocked back her freshly poured whiskey. And in no time, the gentleman was towering over little Betty like a skyscraper.

Regina gasped, ‘Betty—‘

‘Miss?’ The barkeeper interrupted.

She snapped her head over at him at his call.

‘It appears you have secret admirers of your own.’

Her thick brows pulled into one as she sat up straight. ‘M-me?’ Plural? ‘Admirers? Who?’

The barkeeper glanced over to the corner of the room.

Her anxious eyes followed his gaze to the far right corner of the room. There sat two freakishly large men beneath a flickering yellow light.

One donned a large beard with a curled and dramatic mustache. His hair was curly and pushed back except one strand that dangled against his forehead.

The other had a clean shaven face with dirty blonde combed back hair. A set of round lenses sat on the bridge of his nose.

If their gaze had been daggers, she’d be dead.

‘Both. Of them?’ Regina hushed out.

‘You see em both lookin’ don’t cha?’

She swallowed her spit so hard she thought there was a lump there. She looked over at Betty who was getting more than acquainted with her new beau. Giggling and smiling like brand new love birds. Their whispers and flirts couldn’t be heard over the music.

‘Betty? There’s two! What do I do!?’ She was quite the neophyte when it came to things like this. Often men, one at a time, had courted her but two?! What would she do with two of them?!

Well, she would soon find out that she could do a lot more with two than she could do with just one.

Her friend looked over at her and gave her a wink.

Before she could coax an answer out of Betty, she felt the heavy warmth of their presence standing behind her.

Betty let out an excited giggle as her attractive stranger nibbled on her exposed neck.

Regina’s back stiffened with her legs crossed, unknowingly arching and causing her rump to stick out beneath her.

‘Excuse our intrusion Miss… but it would be great pleasure if you accepted our invitation to join us in our room this evening.’

The English accent was thick yet, blended with pure charm. His voice settled and nestled in the crevices in her brain.

She swallowed hard once again and lifted her shaky hand to scoop up the whiskey glass. Pressing it to her lips, she thought for a second.

If she took a sip of this drink, there was no going back! Ain’t no telling what these two strangers planned on doing to her once they were behind closed doors.

But perhaps, maybe this is what she needed. Her late fiancé had been gone for 1 year now and she couldn’t hang on to that forever. During her stage of grieving, she’d worked tirelessly to keep herself busy.

She deserved it!

Even if it meant getting torn to shreds by these two … delicious specimens.

Regina smirked at the barkeeper and knocked back the whiskey that burned her stomach profusely. She blinked hard before swallowing down the pain and courageously spun in her stool.

When her eyes had finally met theirs, she felt a pang in her chest. By the Heavens! Bless their mothers for carrying such prodigious of boys.

‘Oh!’ She placed her hand bosom. ‘My— you are big men.’

A smile curled up on their lips before they looked at one another knowingly.

‘Do you accept our offer, Miss?’ The blonde one spoke up. His accent was much different from the original one she’d heard.

She looked over at Betty who was now sporting her beau’s service cap and locking lips with him.

Well, Betty was having the time of her life. What kind of person would she be if she took their free drink and left?

What would your daddy say?

Fuck your daddy.

You deserve this, Regina. Go have fun.

Uncrossing her legs, she carefully slid off of the chair and adjusted her dress at the thighs. ‘I accept.’

They grinned in sync, showing off their darling smiles. It caused a knot to tie in her gut. By God they had to be angels sent from up above.

They turned as they both lended her their arms for her to grasp. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and her neck as she reached out to grab their biceps.

‘Oh my—‘ she giggled as she squeezed them both. ‘Such strong men I got! I’m a lucky girl.’ Regina purred as she looked up at the bearded one. ‘Shall we?’

‘We shall.’

***

They stared down at her with a desire only men in this time could only have.

Regina gripped the silk sheets in her sweaty fists as their studious glares began to roam her curvaceous body. Starting from her pink painted toes, her thick thighs, her hips and tummy, her breasts and finally… her pretty round, chunky face.

The woman felt like she was under a damn microscopic lense with how they were staring at her. Her thigh bounced vigorously. She couldn’t tell if they wanted to eat her or dissect her. Regardless, it scared the shit out of her.

‘Lassen?’ The fellow with the beard said softly.

‘Yes sir?’

Sir? Did these two work with one another?

‘You may start.’

‘Wait— wait…’ Regina called out first as the bearded one walked towards the floral embroidered chair and shrugged off his coat. ‘Could I know your names? I mean— I would like to know who I’m letting into my lady bits.’ She said humorously.

The one known as Lassen looked back at his comrade. And they gave one another a firm nod in approval.

‘My name is Anders Lassen and this is Gus March-Phillips. What is your name lovely?’

Anders and Gus. Should be able to remember that.

‘My name is Regina Carson…’

‘Mmm. Very pretty name, for a very pretty woman.’ Gus said as he began to unbutton his dress shirt.

An enamored grin curled up on her lips as her tongue gently grazed her pretty smile.

Her eyes then darted up to meet Anders as he pushed off his suspenders and pulled his tucked shirt from inside of his trousers. He then pulled the fitted shirt over his head and dropped it to the side of the bed.

Good lord, he had the body of a God. Muscles ripped and tight. Her mouth went to salivating almost immediately.

Grabbing her hand, he lifted her up to her feet and brought her body flush against his. He lifted her chin, bringing her lips up to meet his in a kiss.

Regina’s eyes fluttered closed as she purred at the welcoming warmth of his lips. At first, it was just him testing the waters but she quickly fell into place; opening her mouth allowing him to invade as he pleased.

Anders snaked his hands behind her, finding the fine zipper and dragging it down.

Suddenly, she felt the warmth of another set of lips on the nape of her neck. Regina tore her lips away from Anders as he began to help her out the sleeves of her dress. Her head lulled back against Gus’ shoulder before he brought her mouth into a kiss next. And just like Anders, she opened her mouth nice and wide for him.

His beard and mustache tickled her lips and cheeks.

Before she knew it, the three of them were fully nude.

The both of them stroked at their members; aching to feel how warm she was from the inside out. But first…

Gus carefully forced Regina to her knees before them. Her eyes grew in slight shock at the size of their members. Both uncut, veiny and hard enough to slice through bricks.

‘You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, sweetheart.’ Gus said as his fingertips caressed her cheek softly before pushing her thick hair behind her ear.

‘No. I wanna.’ She shuddered out before sitting up on her knees, wrapping her hand around Anders cock and her lips around Gus.

Both of the men let out a pleasant groan in unison as she massaged one and sucked the other.

Careful not to show one too much attention though, she alternated and began to suck Anders off while stroking Gus. Anders’ knees buckled as she began to throat him just the same as she did with Gus.

‘Ugh, fuck.’

‘Just like that.’

The boys groaned at her teasing. She did everything she could to please them. Tightening up her lips, gagging against their cocks when they touched the back of her throat, squeezing and massaging their balls delicately. At her rate, they both would be making a mess of her in no time!

‘Stop.’ Gus grunted as he carefully pulled his hips away from her warm mouth. He shuddered before letting out a sigh. ‘Anymore of that and I’ll explode. Up.’

At his command, she placed her hand in his as she stood to her feet. ‘Anders… you first. I’d like to watch.’

‘As you wish.’ Anders said with a devious smirk.

Watch?! While she’s never done something this spontaneous and … sinful, she had no idea people were into watching other people fuck. But if it were to please her boys… she’d do whatever they asked.

She watched him walk over to the same chair and plop down; his hard dick swaying and slapping against his thigh.

‘Bend over, darling. Feel free to tap me if it’s too much. I will stop.’

Regina giggled as she bent over the bed. ‘Too much? Please.’

Spreading her thick thighs apart, Anders took a hold of his member and pressed it at her sticky entrance.

With a quick thrust, he stretched her against her will.

The poor woman let out a wail that was mixed with pleasure and undeniable pain.

Perhaps she spoke too soon.

Tears brimmed her eyes as she held her breath for a second, gripping the cool satin sheets.

Anders let out a blissful moan, holding himself deep inside of her as his large hands caressed up and down her curves and folds.

Gus had one leg draped over one arm over the couch as he stroked at his member, watching with excitement in his eyes and an intrigued smirk on his lips.

‘Fuck!’ Regina cried out before she felt him slam himself into her once more, his fingertips digging into her waist. ‘Dear God! Ah!’

A few thrusts and Regina was able to take this intruder comfortably now. With her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she thought she was seeing stars already.

Anders began to pound into her hard and fast before reaching down to grip her hair in his fist. ‘Yeah. Call out to him baby. He can’t save you now.’

She looked up at him through her thick lashes. ‘Ooooh— my god! Yes! Anders please!’ She pleaded as his body collided into hers relentlessly.

‘Oooh. Fuck, you feel so good baby. Take me. Take me baby.’ Anders hissed through his teeth.

‘Aaaaah yes!’

‘Fuuuck, nicely done Anders. Show her what you’re made of.’ Gus grumbled as he reached his free hand beneath himself and squeezed his tender balls.

Hissing through her gritted teeth, she looked over to watch Gus get himself off. His chest and biceps tense as he stroked his girthy, thick cock. Such a beautiful sight.

Anders pulled Regina’s hair, making her stand up straight against him. He wrapped his large veiny hand around her throat, forcing her into a disgusting kiss. His thrusts became a little slower and forgiven as one hand cupped her breast and his other arm wrapped around her waist, gripping her belly for stability.

When he broke the kiss, he began to ram his hips into her once again as her breathing hitched and strained. ‘Hoooo— yes, yes, yes!’

Finally, Gus stood from his seat and approached them. He landed a slap on Ander’s ass and jerked his head to the side. ‘Don’t be stingy, Lassen. She’s ours.’

Ours.

Anders groaned in dismay but obeyed. Landing one more kiss on Regina’s mouth, he retracted his hips and took place on the bed; propped up on his knees.

Gus looked down at the woman with gentle eyes, ‘tap out of it becomes too much sweetie.’ He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips before sucking her bottom lip between his teeth gently.

Drunken with lust and pleasure, Regina dizzily plopped down on her back and spread her thighs for him.

‘Aren’t you a pretty sight? Might have to give you a son… or marry you? What do you think, Lassen?’

Anders laughed darkly as he scooted down so his still erected cock was pressed against her cheek. ‘Pretty indeed. Now open up doll… I wanna see you put those pretty lips to work while you’re getting fucked.’

His words caused her to writhe in excitement. Her core was aching to be filled once more. She lifted her head and parted her lips as she guided his cock back into the home of her mouth.

Gus sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he pushed her thighs back and pushed his tip inside of her and began to slowly roll his hips into her.

Closing her eyes, Regina hummed against Anders cock causing a vibration to rumble at the back of her throat. ‘Ohh—‘ his head fell back as his hand held onto the back of her head. ‘Fuck! You’re so tight.’ He swallowed as he reached down toying and pinching at her hardened nipples.

Gus began to pick up the pace, his finger tips digging in her plushy flesh tightly. Forcing her thighs back as he delved his hips into her once more. He then reached down and began to rub at her erected nub softly.

‘Fuck! You look so pretty with Anders dick in your mouth.’

Anders groaned as he thrusted his hips forward into Regina’s mouth; anglelessly hitting all the spots in her warm, wet mouth.

‘Mmmm—‘ Regina cooed as she pulled her lips away to curse, using her hand to jerk off Anders. ‘Fuck, Gus! Please!’ She begged, her thighs twitched at the creeping sensation.

Gus thrusted fast as he rubbed her clit in circles a little faster.

‘Gus! Oh, my god!’ Her thighs began to tremble as she felt her womb tighten up. Her body stiffened and her chest tightened. Gus stilled his hips and focused on her. ‘I’m gonna—‘ Her back arched and her toes curled as the heat in her body popped off like fireworks on new years.

She released a scream that could be heard throughout the hotel. And with that scream, came a sudden burst from her loins. She exploded like a damaged fire hydrant.

Gus looked up at Anders in surprise and Anders returned the glare.

‘Whoa—‘ both of the men laughed in darkly.

‘Have you ever done that?’ Anders asked with a grin spread across his lips.

‘Quite a few times.. you?’

‘Once.’

‘Well, we shall see if we can get a few more out of her, yes?’

‘I’m with you sir.’

While both of the men experienced this kind of mess, she never experienced a pleasure so great. Her head throbbed as she tried to process what the fuck just happened. Her cheeks remained hot to the touch, her trembling lips sore from all of their sweet, heavy kisses.

‘Brace yourself sweetheart. We aren’t done with you yet.’

Anders and Gus laughed beguilingly as their large hands caressed over her sticky, brown flesh.

A glint of thrill shown in her sex-crazed eyes. She was hyped. ‘O-OK!’

With the stamina of these two men, Regina was sure she lost enough weight to fit into her graduation gown from high school.

She was fucked into exhaustion and dehydration, so she was relieved when they both announced their arrivals.

‘On the floor baby. Yeah— fuck look at you.’ Ander groaned as the both of them helped her to her knees.

‘Open wide baby.’ Gus added as they both began to stroke their members until they reached their climax.

Regina’s eyes gleamed, her hands massaging their muscular thighs that tensed and squeezed beneath her touch. She opened her mouth, tongue out to capture those sacred drops.

‘UGH! Ba—‘

‘Fuuuuuck… yes!’

The two men groaned aloud as they emptied themselves upon her pretty face and mouth. Wrapping her hands around the both of them, she squeezed and coaxed the rest of their nut out of them.

Gus’ knees buckled as his eyes rolled back halfway. Then, she gave them both a kiss on the tip of their now flaccid dicks.

Anders let out an exhausted sigh. ‘Oh. What do we do with you now.’

‘Well…’ Gus added, ‘I have quite a few ideas.’ He trailed off.

Wiping her face and flicking off the sticky semen, she looked up at them in horror.

Now what?

2 years later…

Regina clamped her eyes shut tight as she rested her lower hand on her lower back. ‘Ooh… my days.’ She rubbed at the roundness of her belly with her free hand, as the other carried out a metal tray of fresh lemonade and a couple glasses of ice.

She walked out to the backyard to see Anders flipping burgers at the grill with his “Kiss the Cook” apron on while Gus tossed a football to Betty’s husband, August. Betty was bouncing her sweet baby boy in her arms, showering him with kisses and love.

This was the life.

A smile curled on her lips when Anders sweet, gentle eyes landed on her. ‘Let me grab this for you.’ He rushed over and carefully took hold of the tray and placed it on the picnic table. ‘How’s my girls huh?’

‘The same as yesterday, Lassen.’ She sighed heavily and rubbed her pregnant belly, ‘Tired. Aching.’

‘Aw. I know sweetheart. Just a few more weeks.’ He said before placing a kiss on her head. ‘Sit.’

Gus sat the football down in the lush green grass and jogged towards the deck. ‘There’s my girl. Hey, mama.’ He mused as he placed a kiss on her lips. ‘How are you feeling?’

Regina pressed her lips together and glanced over at her other husband.

Anders stared at Gus for a little bit and chuckled, ‘To save you from her wringing your neck … she’s feeling the same as she did yesterday.’

Gus sighed softly, ‘Oh my sweet. Forgive me for asking. Is there anything you need?’

She shook her head as her head fell back against the lawn chair. ‘No my darlings… I’m fine.’

Regina closed her eyes for a long second before feeling a sudden wetness in her bottom.

Her eyes flashed open.

‘Boys.. I don’t think I’m peeing myself again…’

Tags: @peternoonewantsthat @wa-ni @ellethespaceunicorn @milknhonies @the-kanamori @viking-raider

[gay-dorito-dust]

my WiFi was really shit when i sent in the request . just wanted to ask if you got it !! ^-^ sorry if this seems nagging .. m not meaning for it to

—> request was the x viktor comfort fic w an alternate ending to the series finale

(—@mister-ancunin)

Tumblr glitched on me multiple times yesterday (why, no clue) and i don’t know what it did with the request, but I remember seeing enough to remember what the request was before the request was taken, if that makes sense. So I might as well do it here while I can still remember it for compensation and hope you’d like it. (This was way too long and drawn out so I’m sorry about that)

The ash and dust has subsided as an uneasy quiet befell Piltover or rather what’s left of Piltover from the brutal conflict with Ambessa and the Noxian army. There was rubble and ruin everywhere you looked as building structures reduced to its foundations or heavily damaged, blood stained the pavement underfoot as you gingerly walked amongst the corpses of the people you’ve fought alongside with amidst the white and gold metallic corpses of what once was Viktor’s commune.

While you were happy that the fighting was over, that happiness almost felt misplaced or inappropriate in this moment and time as it seemed as though Piltover was silently mourning the people who fought valiantly. You couldn’t help but close the eyes of those that you passed by, wishing them eternal rest and peace now that their pain and suffering has long passed, letting them know their efforts were not lost on anyone at all. You all came together as a united front against a common enemy and fought like it was going to be your last time alive, and you saw a lot of people that you’ve known for a while fight like hell and you couldn’t be prouder of them.

‘You fought well.’ You said softly as you closed the eyes of what felt like the hundredth fallen soldier you’ve come across, unable to think of anything but their family and friends who are going to be looking for them. ‘It’s time to rest now.’ You add as you got up from kneeling, wincing as you as you were reminded of your own injuries which consisted of a gash on your upper arm and an even bigger gash spanning from your left shoulder to the middle of your back, amongst many other minor injures that stung when the breeze past them.

‘Fuck.’ You hissed as you waited out the throbbing pain with clenched teeth before moving on ahead. Where you were heading you weren’t quite sure. You were just wandering the battlefield with only your breathing, footfalls were the only thing you could hear that you thought with all the metal clashing, the screaming, the gunshots and the war cries that filled the air had finally made you deaf. However as you wandered the ruins of a once pristine city, your thoughts brought you back to Viktor and your soul ached, soured. You had lost him more times then you could count and even now you couldn’t help but morbidly think of whether you’d find his corpse amongst the others, but another part of you was wishing that you’d find him alive in whatever form he decided to take you prayed that he was alive nonetheless…even if he was the reason for all of this.

You could vaguely remember your last interaction with Viktor. While he looked like himself, he didn’t act it despite the softness of his sweet voice didn’t chance but one look into his amber eyes and you could tell that something was off, your sweetheart was lost, adrift somewhere and you couldn’t help him. You remember cupping his face in your hands, looking him over as though it was the last time you’d ever see him, and you wanted to engrave each one of his beautiful features into your mind in hopes that you’d see him even in your sleep. You called out his name for you could realise him even from behind, happy to see him breathing and without hesitation you hugged him when you saw him look back at you with recognition, holding him tight as you felt the cool metal of his new form press into you bitingly through the soft robe he wore.

You should’ve know that happiness wouldn’t last with what came after when Viktor touched your hands, seeing something within your mind that you couldn’t comprehend just yet but you knew nothing good came of it and nothing did, after all wars were started for far less but still you felt the sting and pain of your aching body as you found yourself unable to keep walking and sat against the wall and look up to the sky. Hoping. Hoping that after this everything will improve so that this can never happen again but that was wishful thinking and you knew that as you chuckled, too tired to carry yourself to where everyone else was.

You were too exhausted to care about the sting of your wounds nor the sound of someone approaching you from afar as you thought about closing your burning eyes for a small reprieve. It was the least you deserved and what you were going to rewards yourself with, until you saw a towering figure of dark purple and gold weaved together gliding through the rubble and dust like an angle of death. You thought about holding your breath, making it think that you were just another corpse amongst the millions of others but then there was that familiar warmth that flooded through you, you knew who this was before you even speak his name and before you knew it you were stumbling to get on your feet.

‘Viktor?’ You asked softly, far too softly for anyone to hear you but with the deafening silence that hung like a thick smog, threatening to choke you out, you would’ve be surprised if even the smallest of whispers sounded like angered, thunderous shouts of raw emotion. ‘Viktor is that you?’ You asked again, this time a little louder as you weakly hobbled towards the being of metal covered by what remained of his robe. ‘Please tell me it’s you in there and I’m not being greeted by the grim reaper right now.’ You chuckled while holding back a whimper, not wanting to show your true emotions if this being ended up not being your beloved Viktor.

The closer the being got the taller he looked, roughly six foot maybe, you couldn’t estimate to save your life but he towered over you easily as the soft clicking of his cane against pavement. Which was something you’ve always noticed with Viktor was how he didn’t drive his cane into the ground, but more or less love tapped it as though he was being considerate of the pavements feelings in comparison to others who’d stomp their feet gracelessly. You could tell Viktor was still there from his mannerisms and the way he held himself but still you couldn’t allow yourself to faster now, not when you were in a weakened state, while he on the other hand looked unscathed and untouched as though the ash and dust refused to touch any part of him out of fear.

‘You were never good at concealing your emotions my dear.’ The familiar voice croaked, heavily distorted but you could hear him -your Viktor- and could clearly see him smiling after having easily read you like you were his favourite book. ‘Always hiding behind another emotion to keep yourself from harm or from worrying others about you. However I always saw through it each time and this time is no different, you’re hurt my muse.’ He adds as he gotten closer to you, looking down at you though his new eyes that glowed warmly like the way his amber eyes did whenever they look at you, so knowing and understanding of your character.

‘Viktor…you’re okay.’ You finally let the flood gates open as tears streaked down your cheeks, letting the worry that have almost driven you mad and close to an early grave once or twice during the raging conflict for Plitover, the fear that threatened to consume you along with the pain of knowing that you had quite possibly lost him once again. ‘I was worried sick about you but I’m glad that you okay! We’re both okay.’ You continued as you managed to get close enough to Viktor where you could hug his new form with effortless ease, the cool metallic skin bite your softer, warmer skin deliciously as you rested your head against what you could assume was his chest and drinking him in. ‘I thought it was going to loose you again.’ You cried.

‘After everything I’ve done,’ Viktor began, confused as to how you could still look at him the way you did, as if he didn’t threaten lives of countless in pursuit for perfection. ‘Everything I’ve done to you, to everyone and yet you still find it within yourself to love and care for me to cry over my whereabouts. You truly allude me my love.’ He finishes as he could only watch at you clung to him as though he was going to disappear from your grasp. ‘I knew you’d come back to me sooner or later, so why should I give up hope like everybody else had on you! I know you Viktor and I know you were stronger then to let this obsession with perfection get to you,’ you replied, squeezing your eyes tightly as though praying to a higher being to not let this be a dream of your own creation and to give you a sign that this was real, which came to you in the form of Viktor finally reciprocating the hug.

The touch was tender, calculated and precise but that didn’t stop the tears from falling from your eyes as you breathed a sigh of relief that this was true, that your Viktor had come back to find his way back to you. Even despite if it was at the end of the brutal conflict that ravaged the city but that didn’t matter for as long as he had rediscovered himself you’d be okay. ‘And while the need for perfection did consume you for a while I didn’t stop believing that you’d realise that you were the beauty that you’ve been chasing all along.’ You continued as the weariness and aching sensations wracked your body beyond belief, that and being in Viktor’s arms made you feel comforted and safe that you could easily see yourself sleeping in his cool metallic arms in the foreseeable future.

‘Your unwavering faith you have in me is commendable my love, what I would do without it I do not know nor want to know.’ Viktor says softly as he takes note of your injuries and their severity, wondering where and who they’d come from Noxian soldiers or creatures of his own creation and made sure that his touch went nowhere near the afflicted areas, as though he was afraid he irritate them. ‘Sometimes I don’t believe I’m worth it, worth something as valuable as unwavering faith and persisting belief. However your a stubborn soul that didn’t stop believing in me, even when I became…this.’ He gestures to his form of cold, biting metal but you couldn’t help by look at his softly as you kissed his chest and nuzzling back against it eagerly.

‘You’re still my Viktor regardless of how you look, no matter how much you change you’ll always be my Viktor and have to keep my faith above my worry that you’ll come back to me…you always do and I’m glad because I don’t know what I’d…what I’d..’ you trailed off as unsettlingly dark thoughts overcame you as your breath hitched in your chest and your throat tightened while a fresh wave of tears streaked down your drying cheeks. ‘I don’t want to think about right now, just please let me stay like this…please Viktor.’ You whimpered.

‘Stay however you like my love, but we will have to get your injuries cleaned and patched up, I fear for potential injection in these conditions.’ Viktor tells you softly as he continues to holds you against him for your comfort, standing tall like a protective pillar in a wasteland of death while keep you upright in your moment of weakness, and while his form has changed significantly and he’ll most certainly have to answer for his mistakes, but he’ll stand here and keep being your strength when you’ve lost it all just like you’ve been a source of strength to him for a long time. He guesses he could stay for a while longer with a new look on life, to keep you safe and to try and find the beauty and perfection in a life filled with flaws and mistakes with you by his side.

[mandoalorian]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

masterlist

warnings: EXPLICIT, no minors. m!masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism to some extent, riding, unprotected p in v. both so so touch starved. joel has a lot to teach the reader.

notes: 1000 notes on my last post— thank you. I haven’t written in a long time and get quite anxious to post new fics, but when the response is that great, how could I not? You make me feel way more confident with my writing and encourage me to post more often. I hope to soon get to a place where I can start accepting requests again and writing what you want me to.

Joel didn’t like you— that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since daybreak, when he left Tess at the QZ to deal with ‘unfinished business’ and promised her to deliver you to the outskirts of Boston without Fedra knowing. It was a difficult journey with the soldiers scouting the area on every corner, but after around six hours of travelling on foot, you and Joel had reached the border of Cornwall, Canada, which is exactly where you needed to be.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you wanted to be in Canada because that’s where your parents were. Or so, where you last heard they were. You’d do anything to reunite with them and make sure they were safe but you weren’t exactly good with a gun and you weren’t a particularly fast runner either. You needed someone like Joel to smuggle you out of the Quarantine Zone. He was your protector.

“You haven’t said a word to me all day,” you acknowledged when you couldn’t sleep that night. You lay next to Joel in your own sleeping bag, framed by a roaring fire and underneath tall, forested shelter. “Why?”

Joel huffed out a sigh and rolled over onto his back, now looking up at the starry night sky.

He didn’t reply.

You gave him a few minutes and tried to gather your thoughts, hoping he’d eventually cave and tell you why he’d hated you all this time. Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. Hell, you’d only met him earlier in the day. You’d hardly had enough of an influence on him to hate you. You liked to think of yourself as big and strong and apathetic in regards to people’s opinion of you. In the world that you lived in, you couldn’t afford to give a damn. And yet, you did. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. You got anxious about it if you thought about it too long and so you would desperately try and find a distraction or think of something else to focus on. The trees— the stars— the fire— Joel.

He was the epitome of ‘grumpy old man’. You briefly wondered if he was this grumpy before the apocalypse. Why was he so highly strung? Sure, life wasn’t exactly good or easy for him— but it wasn’t good or easy for anyone.

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to go to Canada,” you said slowly, figuring that if you could open up to the man, then maybe he could at least offer you a few words back. “My parents are there. I think they are anyway. My father sent a letter over to the QZ months ago but I only just got it on Tuesday. I don’t know if they’re still there but I need to check. My mom is sick and I just… need to be with them… and I couldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t last two seconds out there with infected. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, tha—“

“Okay.” Joel cut you off abruptly. He didn’t want your ‘thank you’s’ or your tokens of gratitude. He was doing a job and he was only here to get paid.

“Where are you from?” you asked him quietly. He shuffled but didn’t reply, and so you were prompted to follow on further. “You got an accent. Southern, there’s no doubting that. Tennessee…—?”

“Texas.” Joel corrected and you smiled to yourself. He may have been a man of few words but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you think he was from Tennessee.

“Texas huh?” you beamed brightly. Joel didn’t move his head, but he looked over to you and noticed your grin. “So you’re like, a cowboy.”

You giggled playfully and nudged his arm, but he only grunted and closed his eyes.

“You ever ride a horse?” you asked him.

“You’re annoying,” Joel sighed, rubbing his temples, but he supposed that— if he had to be honest with himself— he was somewhat amused by your plentiful questions. “But yeah. I’ve rode a horse.”

“I always wanted to ride a horse, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it,” you admitted sheepishly. “No co-ordination.”

“It’s all in the hips.” Joel explained and his interest in horses took you by surprise. This was the most he talked all day.

You pursed your lips together fighting back another smile. There was no denying the rush of blood that flushed to your cheeks as you felt them heat up over the thought of the Cowboy riding his horse. But then you remembered how he’d also just expressed his irritation with you and your abundance of pointless questions and you felt your heart drop in your chest slightly. A pang of guilt.

You told yourself that it was okay— no big deal— and it didn’t matter if he found you annoying. No, it didn’t matter that the extremely attractive Texan man who hadn’t uttered a single word to you all day, found you annoying.

You’d been so lonely recently. So lonely. You’d kill for a friend. A partner. Someone. And perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up when you met Joel. You figured that maybe you could finally have someone in your life who liked you back for you, and didn’t want to use you or hurt you in some kind of unexpected way.

“I— I don’t mean to be annoying, y’know. I just— I’m sorry,” you murmured, rolling over onto your side and facing the other way from Joel. “Uhm— good night.”

Joel wasn’t a heartless monster. He wasn’t as cold and calculating as he let off to be, but he sure as hell wasn’t innocent and pure-of-heart either. He was a broken shell of a man simply trying to get by, and the way he saw it, he couldn’t afford the time or effort to make friendships or have partners or even anything more than an acquaintance. It just wasn’t on his radar.

And although he was certainly taken aback with how beautiful you were, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything he wouldn’t do with any other piece of cargo. This was a delivery, after all. A smuggle run. And he had to be professional about it.

But you were so— so beautiful. During the hours of hiking you and Joel did through the fields and forests, he often lagged behind you and consciously allowed you to take the lead when he thought it was safe to do so. Really though, he just liked to take a few seconds to admire you when you weren’t looking. You were funny and smart and although you couldn’t aim a gun to save your life, you might’ve been able to charm a Clicker away from you if you tried hard enough.

Joel enjoyed listening to you babble on, despite displaying no signs or signals to show that he had any interest in you. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression. He really did like you, but if he dared to open his mouth, Joel was certain he’d slip up and say the wrong thing or embarrass himself. And so to him, it was better to not say anything at all. However, his heart would warm when you would get bored along the way and start humming— and eventually singing. You were in no way melidous, but still, you weren’t trying to be. Joel wondered what it would be like in another universe where your lives weren’t constantly at stake. Maybe then he’d grow the courage to actually have a decent conversation with you.

But this wasn’t another universe. This was reality and Joel had lost all hope in humankind a long time ago. Joel allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts for a long time and by the time he’d snapped out of it, you were already fast asleep next to him, emitting light snores. He watched you, watched as your chest rose and fell with every breath. You looked so peaceful.

Truth was, Joel wasn’t entirely sure he could fall asleep here next to you. There was no way of telling if this forest was safe. Certainly he found it difficult to imagine there’d be signs of infected around but people? That was certainly plausible. Making sure his rifle was close enough to grab in case of an emergency, Joel took another glance towards you.

So goddamn pretty.

Joel didn’t know when, but at some point in the night, he’d gotten hard. Probably because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night. He felt like such a creep for watching you sleep, but even under the pearly white stars and the sunset orange embers bouncing from the campfire, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever saw. And he wanted you.

Now, Joel probably wasn’t as touch-starved as you were, but still, it had been a helluva long time since he last got laid. Without drawing his gaze away from you, he reached his hand down into his sleeping bag and dipped it into his boxer shorts began to pump at his already throbbing manhood. His eyes snapped shut at the shock of the thrill which raced through his body. There was something so erotic about doing this outside, with you laying next to him, unbeknownst to it all. Stifling a groan, with his free hand Joel gathered the material of his sleeping bag and squeezed it with pleasure.

The coarseness, roughness, of his hands was never ideal, but he had no trouble imagining the softness of yours. Your hands were a lot smaller than his, and your fingers were a lot thinner, and as he stroked his cock, his toes curled at the thought of you in between his legs, playing with him.

He hissed your name through his teeth as he begin to feel a knot tie in his lower stomach, indicating that he was close. God, he’d only been at himself for a few minutes and he was going crazy for you. You stirred slightly at the mention of your name but Joel wasn’t paying attention anymore. Now his eyes were shut and his entire body was tensed up as his hand movements became faster. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if he finished quick because the longer he touched himself, the more chance you’d wake up and discover him.

But for some reason, that only stirred Joel on even more. Of course, he wasn’t trying to wake you up, but there came a point where he was so enveloped in his own lustfilled thoughts, he didn’t even notice you whisper his name softly through the night.

“Joel?”

Briefly, Joel registered the sound of your voice but he thought nothing of it. So deep in thought— he was close. He moaned your name back.

You stilled, your eyes widening when your gaze dropped to his crotch and you noticed the movements of his hands underneath the thin material of the sleeping bag.

“Oh… Joel.” you mumbled, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you nimbly slipped out of your sleeping bag and quietly crawled over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, but between the tinnitus in his right ear and being so lost in his own thoughts, you couldn’t blame him. On your knees and by his side, you placed the palm of your hand on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, alerting him immediately.

His movements stopped and his eyes snapped open in horror, only to be met by your wide smirk.

“Hey cowboy,” you teased, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Shit.” Joel cursed, looking away from you. “I— you shouldn’t have saw me— I’m—“

You hushed him by placing a soft, chase kiss upon his lips. Joel froze and softened under you, completely feeling at ease under your touch. It has been years since he had been kissed. You hovered over him, finding his gaze in the dark before pressing a harder, more intimate kiss to his lips. Joel moaned underneath you and brought out his hand from under the sleeping bag, releasing his cock and bringing it to cradle the back of your head.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you giggled, unzipping Joel’s sleeping bag and bringing yours next to his, giving you both some kind of barrier between the grassy ground.

Joel’s belt was already undone and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

Still beaming, you straddled Joel, positioning yourself over his lap and continued unbuttoning his shirt before before peeling it off his torso and discarding it into the corner.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joel asked softly and his tone of voice took you by surprise.

“If I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t be grinding on you already, cowboy,” you giggled, thrusting your hips over the material of his jeans and getting a feel for his bulge.

Joel swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. Hastily, he brought his hands to your waist and guided you over his hips. You tossed back your head and let out a moan.

“Oh, I need you.” you whimpered, bringing Joel’s hands to your breasts and letting him feel the hard pebbles of your nipples under your t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Joel tugged on your shirt and you let him pull it off your body. He then smoothly unclipped your bra and let it fall off, before using his large, rough hands to cup and fondle your breasts.

“Joel,” you gasped, pushing back onto his legs and taking the hem off his jeans in your grip. “I need you,” you repeated. “Need you inside of me.”

Joel choked out a wanton groan at your words and nodded his head again. You took his signal as confirmation that he wanted this too, and tugged down his denim along with his underwear.

You removed your own pants and then sunk down ontop of him, sighing an air of relief when you felt the skin on skin contact. Joel adjusted himself and gave you a questioning look.

“I’m ready.” you whispered and leaned down, pressing your chest against Joel’s. Joel pushed himself inside of you and you tensed up, digging your nails into his shoulders as you adjusted to him. He was so big and thick, and yet he felt like he fit inside you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

Joel slowly thrusted upwards and into you, stretching you out. When you felt comfortable enough, you sat upright and rested your hands on his tummy.

“Show me how to ride, cowboy,” You urged. “You said earlier, it’s all in the hips? Show me.”

Joel looked up at you with wide eyes and extended his arms around you. He held onto you, and you felt like putty under his grip.

“Show me what you got, girl.” The handsome man demanded, his voice having dropped an octave.

You began to roll your hips over him, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut. “That feel good for you?” you taunted, letting a giggle escape your lips. Joel wordlessly nodded.

“Try— try circle your hips.” Joel requested, and immediately you changed your movements. You’d do anything to please him. You felt yourself get increasingly wet, making it easier and more comfortable to move freely. “That’s good.” he praised under his breaths.

“This is how you ride?” you enquired, raising an eyebrow as you continued to circle your hips.

“This is how you learn,” Joel corrected. “It’s all a process, baby girl. You go straight into the ridin’, you’ll get hurt.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed himself into you, the curve of his cock hitting you in just the right spot, You held onto him, gripping onto the broad of his back and this time, Joel kissed you. He yearned for your lips— for your affection. He dragged his tongue along your collarbone and planted sloppy kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and finally to your mouth. He slid his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entry, which you quickly granted him, and started to make out with you.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips, and he pulled off you, allowing you to speak. “I need more.”

“Think you’re ready for your next lesson?” he quizzed, pressing his nose against yours.

“Mhm.” you replied. “Teach me.”

Joel leaned back again and brought his hands down to your hips. “I want you to bounce on my cock sweet girl, show me what you can do.”

You grinned with excitement and began to move yourself up and down, grinding on his cock so you could feel every ridge and vein against your walls.

You felt yourself clench around him, indicating that you were close.

“Shit, like this I won’t last long.” Joel admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Me neither,” you replied, and began to speed up your movements. “Joel— please. Please cum inside of me.”

Joel panted, bringing his hands up to massage your tits. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, oh— please.” you begged him. “Please cowboy.”

With those two words, Joel spurted ropes of his warm seed inside of you, painting your walls a milky white. Feeling him fill you, you clenched one last time around his cock and let a blinding hot light envelope you as you rode out your own high.

You rolled off the man and laid next to him, catching your breath. “How was that? Did I pass the test?” you nudged him playfully.

Joel let out a laugh and you felt your heart flutter at the sound of him displaying genuine happiness. “You passed the test,” he chuckled. “But— there’s still plenty more for you to learn.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “You do make a pretty good teacher.”

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. “Sun will rise in a few hours, you should go back to sleep.” he hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, still in sheer bliss, and smiled.

You couldn’t believe that just a few hours earlier, you were so sure that Joel hated you.

You’d never been so wrong.

——— Taglist: ———

(I’m working on rebuilding a brand new taglist ever since returning to Tumblr. Let me know if you want to be added!)

@pedrosprincess

[whiskeynwriting]

Good Soldier

Captain John Price x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Age gap (20ish years - it’s so delicious), secret relationship, alcohol consumption (Price is drunk), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, brief spitting, mentions of oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting. 

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A/N: Drunk daddy Price babyyyy YESSS

Also, ty SO much to @thesleepingmusicneek for proof-reading this. I wrote this at 3am on a random whim and it was embarrassing how many errors it originally had🥲😂

Also also, I completely forgot to post this on Monday 🙃

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Captain John Price Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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It’s early in the morning when he wakes you, rough hands pawing at the covers and soon your chest. At first, you’re not sure what’s going on; all you can feel is the weight of his body on top of you, the rough scratch of his facial hair rubbing over your face and neck. His back arches forward, curling around you, arms strong in their embrace. 

“Price?” Your voice is quiet and wispy, rough from sleep.

“Don’t call me that.” Comes his immediate response. “You know my name.”

And you smile at that, a sinister little smirk he can’t see through the darkness. He’s too busy pushing his lips against your cheek to notice it, anyway. 

“Sorry, sir.” That smirk is everlasting, body resting against the mattress as John works his way to your bare skin. “Didn’t realize it was that kind of moment.”

“Why the fuck else would I be on top of you?” He’s snarling, finally ripping your top from your body so he can grab a fistful of your tit. Breathing heavily, his mouth hangs open beside your cheek before closing with a deep inhale. The entirety of his presence is clouded with the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey, nothing you’re surprised by. And you’re not sure if your body is so limp and pliant because of your sleepy state, or your unwavering desire for him. 

“Wish you came tonight.” He then says in a rare moment of sweetness, almost cuddling into your body. 

“You told me not to.” Finally turning your head toward him, your noses meet, brushing over the other’s. “Don’t need your boys seeing us interact…” 

He frowns at this, your repetition of his earlier words. You’d wanted to go out with him, with all of them, but John was getting paranoid. He already felt like all eyes were on him when it came to you. Every chance he got, he went easy on you, gave all the hard paperwork to the other recruits, let you take as many breaks as you’d like during training, even made a habit of calling you into his office one too many times throughout the day. 

Reaching forward, John grabs your jaw, fingers pinching into your cheeks. That authoritative tone then makes an appearance as he demands slowly, quietly, “Behave.”

And that makes your cheeks run hot, a girlish little smile forming on your lips. Innocently, you reply with a whisper of, “Just repeating your own words, sir.” 

“Christ, you’re a sassy little thing.” With one quick motion, the hand on your face dives down to your thigh, squeezing its softness before moving to your ass. But even though he sounds genuinely annoyed, he’s still pulling on your panties, and it’s now that you realize he’s without his shirt. His chest presses down against your own, firm and full of hair and fuck if that didn’t turn you on more than anything. 

“Say my name,” He requests, mouthing at your neck. John is beyond sick of hearing that title, specifically when it came from your lips. He liked giving you this piece of him, liked creating this intimate space. 

Burning in the best of ways, his beard scrapes against your skin, soothed by the soft press of his lips. John seemed to be entranced by your entire presence, in the way you smile, the way you move. He’d never felt a sensation so ravenously delicious before he met you, so intensely carnal. 

Dropping his head down, John’s lips find your chest, mouthing at your soft slopes. It’s now that you fully give in, hands rising to either side of his face while arching into his touch. Both of those strong hands come up to grab you, too, molding your tits to fit perfectly in his palms. 

“John,”

“There we go,” With a broad smile, he praises you. “There’s the good girl I know.”

Those words make your head spin, make your center pulse and your body run hot. He knew what words like that did to you, even in the most mundane situations. You each had your triggers, particular words or phrases that made you weak in the knees and absolutely dumb in the head…

John liked to be called captain on the field, and when he heard you address him by said name, he had to fight the hard-on growing in his pants. But in bed, he liked John, he liked giving you that piece of him. And you, you fought for his attention, for the reward that made your eyes shine like stars in the sky - his praise. There have been too many times where John commended you for your hard work, even in front of the others, speaking words so innocent that no one but you could interpret otherwise. Good soldier, strong girl, even his favorite recruit. 

Days with extra praise ended with John pulling you into the locker room, bodies sweaty and sore but desperate for the other’s touch. He’ll lift you against the lockers, cold and rough against your back but it’s hard to notice when he shoves his cock between your legs. Heavy breaths and deep, quiet moans fill the smaller space, John’s sweat dripping onto your body. And you cling to him, too, with every limb you have, face burying into his neck to kiss and lick his sweat-slick skin. It happened often, way too fucking often. 

Other days, when he wouldn’t see you as much, that’s when he’d call you into his office. Little is said when this happens, John’s strong arms manhandling you over the side of his desk. He’d yank your cargos down and spit on you from behind, rubbing his fattened tip over your delicate lips. 

At times, he’d take you in the shower, too, his strength preventing you from slipping. Sometimes it’s up against the tiled wall, but more often than not, he took you from behind. Your cheek would press up against the cool tile, John’s front pressed firmly to your back. Shower sex was usually a more sensual experience, John’s hands roaming your body with an incredibly loving touch, lips obsessing over your jawline and neck. You’d sway back against him, feeling him throb inside your body while steam filled the room. You only got away with this when it was late, when no one else was in the room. 

But fucking in your room, this is new. 

“Perfect fucking tits,” He’s nibbling on your nipples now, wrapping his lips around them and sucking harshly. 

As if it’s your natural instinct, your hips rock up toward him, your blood rushing with excitement when he finally moves to settle his pelvis between your legs. It’s clear that he’s completely wasted, his movements both erratic and sloppy, but that’s never stopped him before. If anything, it makes everything that much more enticing to you. Even in his inebriated state, he wants you, he finds you. 

“Gorgeous girl, my gorgeous girl.”

With an intrigued grin, you return with, “Yours?” 

And that’s when his head shoots up, face inches from yours when he declares, “Mine.” Grabbing your jaw in one hand, he stares into your eyes as best he can with the darkness surrounding him. 

“You think any of those others boys will fuck you like I do? Think they’ll take care of you like I do?” His head tilts as he asks you this, free hand dipping to the space between your legs. “You’re my girl…” And then, his eyes are drifting down, watching the pad of his finger trace the damp trail on the center of your panties. “My good little soldier…”

“John,” The whimper that comes out sounds helpless, and he likes it that way. Lifting his head alongside a sweet smile, John leans in, finally reuniting your lips. He’s got you now, and he knows it. 

It’s been a few days, nearly an entire work week since you’ve last had each other. John was out with the task force for most of it, using tonight to celebrate a successful mission. And while it’s amazing he’s able to do that, amazing that he led another successful operation, to say you missed each other was an understatement. 

The hardened muscles of John’s chest press into you, pelvis grinding between your legs while he kisses you breathless. The hand on the back of your head keeps your mouth against him, his eyes closed in bliss. And when you moan, that liquor-soaked tongue takes advantage, shoving its way into your mouth and he’s moaning when you reciprocate the action. 

“Let me fuck you.” That raspy voice says, hands already on his pants. Looking up at him, you nod, no longer feeling like the fearsome soldier you know you are. With him, you can be soft. 

His own words prompt John to lean back then, undoing his belt and side-stepping out of his jeans. It’s quite the sight, watching this large, muscular man undo his jeans while towering above you. The bed dips with his weight, and you feel a brief chill in his absence. But it’s not for long. 

He doesn’t even bother taking your panties off, just slides them to the side before cramming his fingers into you. It makes you moan, makes you shriek when he curls them. And then you’re grasping at his shoulders, scratching over his freckled skin. Your captain doesn’t start slow, it’s quick and firm, the way he fucks you with two digits. 

“J-John, baby.” 

“Hush.” Is all he says before quieting you with his mouth, moaning into your throat when he finally tastes your tongue. “God, you’re so good like this.” Taking a breath, he shakes his head, scissoring his fingers into your dripping cunt. “Such a good fucking slut when you’re like this.”

“Fuck me,” Your eyes are rolling back, earning a proud grin from your partner. Is he your partner? Has it grown that deep? 

Before your sleepy mind can even comprehend it, he’s replacing his fingers with his cock, his head popping in. At such an early hour, it’s almost impossible for you to have a single coherent thought in your pretty little head, other than the sensation of his girth filling the space between your legs. It’s heady, and he’s heavy, throbbing against your warmth when you release such a cute little squeak. 

“Christ, just give it to me.” He grumbles above you, the scent of liquor and cigar smoke wafting through the room. That scent just does something to you, especially when you watch him smoke. Late at night, you often fantasize about blowing him while a cigar hangs from his mouth; maybe another time. “Ngh, just lay there while I take this tight little pussy.”

It fills you so completely, his warmth consuming your being. Every time you take him, it’s a perfect stretch, not enough to hurt but just enough to sting. Your hands don’t leave his shoulders, either, clinging to him and urging him down, closer to your skin. Happily, he complies; he’s been waiting for this all night. 

“Fuck, I wish you were there tonight.” John repeats, feeling you bite into his neck. “I really do.”

He tries desperately to keep his composure but he can’t, not when you’re squeezing him so sweetly, warm walls wrapping around him so tightly. It’s mere seconds before he’s moving his hips, not allowing you to take in the full sensation of him. 

“What if the boys see me?” Your question is breathy, lips kissing the hinge of his jaw and whining when he sinks back into your heat. 

“Y’know, sometimes princess…” Leaning back, John grabs onto both of your hips, staring down at you. And the window allows you the perfect view, far off street lamps illuminating the room. “I wish they would.” 

It’s then that he’s pulling your body back and forth onto his pelvis, forcing you to meet his movements. He can’t help but pound into your soft body, sinking in as deeply as he can. And wouldn’t you know it, the old man is already panting, blue eyes staring down at you with voracious desire. 

“Fuck, it’s so good. You make me feel so good, so fucking good.” John’s words, his moans, they’re louder than you’d anticipated they’d be. And honestly, it feels amazing to be able to do this to him; to be such a young woman and have this captain’s attention. 

“Baby…” Whining quietly, your hands reach back, holding onto the pillow beneath your head. It’s all you can do, really, while your body rocks against him with every thrust he gives. And John didn’t just plow into you, no… his hips swayed, plunging deep, hitting hard. “Please.” 

“Taking it so good for me, lovie.” You’re practically on display for him. With your arms raised, it leaves your entire torso vulnerable, presenting your body, as if to say use me, use me however you want. 

“Bragged about you today, princess.” 

“W-What?” The way your hips rut against him forces a groan from his throat, brows furrowing. 

“My good little soldier,” He explains, breathless, running a gentle hand down the skin of your stomach. “How well she’s done, how strong she is…”

“They’re,” Laughing briefly, you sigh. “They’re gonna figure it out.” 

“It’s like I told you… I don’t know if I care anymore.” Glancing down at your chest, John watches the way your tits bounce with his movements, the way your nipples harden when he leans in to spit on them. “Perfect fucking girl…” 

“Baby, please.” You don’t know what you’re begging for and John knows it’s just because he’s fucking you dumb, hitting that delicious spot deep inside your cunt. “Please, more.” 

With all your strength, you manage to wrap your legs around his waist, watching the reaction it pulls from him. Letting go of your hips, he lays both palms flat on the bed, dropping down to your chest. The moan that comes from John’s mouth is deep and needy, resting his face between the slopes of your breasts. He was such a sucker for that move. And that, combined with your sweet begs for more, please, John’s picking up his speed. The bed begins to rock from it, your hands leaving the pillow and finding the back of his neck and head. 

“Gorgeous fucking thing,” He says, kissing your nipple. “Sweet little girl… all for me.”

The way he moves is utterly devastating to your body, your nerves alight with that wonderfully erotic heat. Every time felt like the first with him, so passionate and erratic, quick movements and forceful kisses. He just wants you, wants to fuck you full until he physically can’t, to mark you from the inside out. 

“I fucking love it, I love this, baby.” The way your nails scratch down his back makes him shiver, strong legs supporting his body as he plunges between your legs. “You’re right.”

“I’m right?” John immediately asks, heavy breaths damp against your cheek. 

“You, you take care of me.”

And that fills him to the brink with pride. He really does try to, he always has the best intentions in mind when it comes to you. 

“Yeah, I do… because what am I, sweetheart? Who am I?” 

Fuck, you knew he’d bring this up. You fucking knew it. Of course he held onto that, your slip up from last week, before he left for the mission. But honestly, you haven’t been able to let go of it, either. The name left your lips in quiet pleas throughout the week, playing with yourself and imagining it to be him - in bed, in the shower, after workouts in the gym. And you wouldn’t have even thought of whispering that title if it hadn’t spilled from your lips the night John left. 

“I asked you a question.” He demands, punctuating it with a sharp shove. 

“Daddy.”

“Fucking Christ.” It punches out of his chest, the muscles in his body flexing to their limit. Both hands find your skin then, one securing to your hip, the other holding the back of your head. Leaning in, John rests his face against your neck, moaning freely. 

“Again.” 

“Daddy, please.” Your fingers rake through his hair, stinging his scalp when you pull on the shorter strands. “Please.” 

Tossing your head back gives him perfect access, his teeth digging in. Here, John sucks on your skin, rutting his hips against yours hard enough to slap against your ass. It rings throughout the room, alongside your collective chorus of pleasure. And he drinks in every little noise you make, every cute whimper that slips from your mouth. 

“Daddy.”

“I love it,” He can feel you sucking him in, can feel the way your slick drips down his shaft. “Oh Christ, I love that. I take care of you, yeah?”

“Yes, yes and,” Swallowing dryly, you sigh. “I wanna take care of you.” 

Together, your hips grind against each other, forcing him in as deep as he can get. Here, he pauses, breathing against your mouth before biting at your lower lip. 

“Yeah?” John questions, hand lifting so he can pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “And how’re you meant to do that, hm?”

Moving slowly, your captain trails his facial hair along your cheek, your jaw, breathing airily against your neck. It runs a flurry of shivers down your neck and chest, arousal curling tightly in your abdomen. 

“I want you in my mouth.” Finally, you admit it. 

“Oh,” His surprised chuckle makes you feel hot in the face, sheepish. “What an offer that is. But… it’s not gonna happen, not tonight.”

“Why?” It’s a full-on whine; you can’t help it. With how wonderful he feels inside your cunt, you can’t even imagine how delightful he’d feel on your tongue. His heavy girth filling your mouth, leaking down your throat. 

“When I’m inside you, princess, feeling you raw,” Now, that ravenous pace returns, that broad body leaning back again to grab at your waist and ass. “I’m not pulling out, not until I’m done with you. And you want daddy to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, baby. Yes…” 

Releasing a harsh grunt, John continues his movements, rutting into your core and throbbing against your welcoming warmth. 

“Can feel you dripping down my dick, sweetheart. You wanna cum?”

“John,” Arching up toward his body, you release a high gasp. “Yes! I want more, daddy, please. Please, I want more!” 

“Oh, god, you just love it, don’t you?” Snarling, John runs his nose up the column of your neck, taking in your scent. “My lovely little girl wants my dick, doesn’t she?” 

He’s whispering in your ear now, listening to your shrill cry of yes while your hand is grabbing at his ass, pulling him further into you. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, he’s grabbing your face and shoving his mouth over your own. It’s rough, mostly tongue and teeth, feeling overcome by his desire for you. 

John can feel every twitch of your velvety inner skin, can feel the way your slick drips down his balls. Christ, you get so wet for him, so wet for such an older man. 

“So sweet for me,” John huffs beside your cheek, kissing your soft skin obsessively. “Tight as a fucking virgin, aren’t you?” 

In the darkness of your room, your body rocks against the mattress, feeling John’s weight keep you down. All you can hear is his voice, his grunts and groans. All you can feel is the firm warmth of his body, his hot breath, his skin damp with sweat. 

“Cum for me,” Comes your small whimper, wanting to feel him inside you, wanting to know he’s inside you. “Please, John.” 

“No, I need you.” He insists, reaching down between your bodies. Here, his fingers toy with your clit, circling it, squeezing and rubbing it. “C’mon, princess.” John requests, lips beside your ear as he groans. “Cum on this fucking cock.”

“Fuck,” It comes out as a whisper, eyelids pinching shut with your lips falling open. 

“Feeling my little soldier… squeezing around my cock.”

“John, John.” The way he touches you makes you see fucking stars, a delicious little heat burning up through your belly. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” John can feel the way you spasm around his length, the way your breathing becomes shallow and erratic. “C’mon, lovie, be good for me. Cum on my cock, cum like you're supposed to. Just make a mess on me.” 

“I’m gonna,” You reply, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Then, your body relaxes, hips jerking up in an involuntary act. And when John feels it, that hot rush of liquid on his pelvis and lower abdomen, he all but loses his goddamn mind. 

A groan punches from his chest, stuttering out through his mouth. Your girlish shriek forces his eyes back, feeling you tear skin with how hard you’ve scratched him. And he can’t wait for the boys to ask, he genuinely thinks he’ll tell them this time. Because… it won’t be the first time they’ve inquired about the marks on his back. 

At this point, he can’t hold back, he’s grunting into your neck while he absolutely floods your heat. Every spurt is accompanied by a sharp jerk of his hips, his body tensing and flexing and he’s doing everything he can to keep from falling on top of you. His arms hold you, squeeze you, rubbing the hot slick of your cum over both your bodies. 

“Mm…” He’s groaning, laying lightly over your chest. Your wetness has bathed his lower stomach and pelvis, the sight and feel and smell driving him mad. “Baby…” 

Gently, lazily, he kisses your neck, eyes closed in contentment. And for a moment, you wonder if he’ll stay. You’ve spent nights together before, parting in the morning to fulfill your separate duties. But will he allow himself to leave from your room? To allow the possibility of someone seeing? 

“You’re so warm.” Caressing his back, you sigh, drinking in the intimacy of this moment. He’s still inside you, flaccid and just resting. Your combined slick begins to drip from your folds but neither of you seem to care enough to clean it up, not yet. 

After a few minutes pass, John releases a saddened breath, muffling into your shoulder, “Should I go?” 

“No,” Instantly, you’re tightening your hold on him. “Stay.” 

A cocksure grin forms on his face from that, eyes drooping with exhaustion. “You want me to stay?” 

“Yes,” It comes out as a small giggle, fingers now running through his hair. “Stay, John.”

[sassenach77yle]

7x12 “Carnal Knowledge”

His own voice was husky now, and when I turned back to him, I saw that tears stood in his eyes. With an incoherent noise, I flung myself into his arms and clung to him, making foolish hiccuping sobs. He held me tight, his breath warm on the top of my head, and when I stopped at last, he put me away a little and cupped my face in his hands.

“I have loved ye since I saw you, Sassenach,”

he said very quietly, holding my eyes with his own, bloodshot and lined with tiredness but very blue.

“I will love ye forever.

It doesna matter if ye sleep with the whole English army—well, no,” he corrected himself, “it would matter, but it wouldna stop me loving you.” “I didn’t think it would.” I sniffed and he pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and handed it to me. It was worn white cambric and had the initial “P” embroidered awkwardly in one corner in blue thread. I couldn’t imagine where he’d got such a thing but didn’t bother asking, under the circumstances. The bench was not very large, and his knee was within an inch or two of mine. He didn’t touch me again, though, and my heart rate was beginning to speed up noticeably. He meant it, about loving me, but that didn’t mean the next while was going to be pleasant. “It was my impression that he told me because he was sure that you would tell me,” he said carefully. “So I would have,” I said promptly, wiping my nose. “Though I might possibly have waited ’til you’d got home, had a bath, and been fed supper. If there’s one thing I know about men, it’s that you don’t break things like this to them on an empty stomach. When did you last eat?”

“This morning. Sausages. Dinna be changing the subject.” His voice was level, but there was a good deal of feeling bubbling under it; he might as well have been a pan of simmering milk. One extra degree of heat and there’d be an eruption and scorched milk all over the stove. “I understand, but I want—I need—to know what happened.” “You understand?” I echoed, sounding surprised even to my own ears. I hoped he did understand, but his manner was more than a little at odds with his words. My hands were no longer cold; they were starting to sweat, and I gripped the skirt over my knees, heedless of mud stains. “Well, I dinna like it,” he said, not quite between clenched teeth. “But I understand it.” “You do?” “I do,” he said, eyeing me. “Ye both thought I was dead. And I ken what ye’re like when you’re drunk, Sassenach.” I slapped him, so fast and so hard that he hadn’t time to duck and lurched back from the impact. “You—you—” I said, unable to articulate anything bad enough to suit the violence of my feelings. “How bloody dare you!” He touched his cheek gingerly. His mouth was twitching. “I . . . uh . . . didna quite mean that the way it sounded, Sassenach,” he said. “Besides, am I no the aggrieved party here?” “No, you bloody aren’t!” I snapped. “You go off and get—get drowned, and leave me all alone in the m-midst of spies and s-soldiers and with children—you and Fergus both, you bastards! Leave me and Marsali to-to—” I was so choked with emotion that I couldn’t go on. I was damned if I’d cry, though, damned if I’d cry any more in front of him. He reached out carefully and took my hand again. I let him, and let him draw me closer, close enough to see the faint dusting of his beard stubble, to smell the road dust and dried sweat in his clothes, to feel the radiant heat from his body. I sat quivering, making small huffing sounds in lieu of speech. He ignored this, spreading my fingers out between his own, gently stroking the palm of my hand with a large, callused thumb. “I didna mean to imply that I think ye a drunkard, Sassenach,” he said, making an obvious effort to be conciliatory. “It’s only that ye think wi’ your body, Claire; ye always have.” With a tremendous effort of my own, I found words. “So I’m a—a—what are you calling me now? A loose woman? A trollop? A strumpet? And you think that’s better than calling me a drunkard?!?” He gave a small snort of what might have been amusement. I yanked at my hand, but he wouldn’t let go. “I said what I meant, Sassenach,” he said, tightening his grip on my hand, and augmenting it with another hand on my forearm, preventing me from rising. “Ye think wi’ your body. It’s what makes ye a surgeon, no?” “I—oh.” Overcoming my dudgeon momentarily, I was obliged to admit that there was something in this observation. “Possibly,” I said stiffly, looking away from him. “But I don’t think that’s what you meant.” “Not entirely, no.” There was a very slight edge to his voice again, but I wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Listen to me.” I sat stubbornly silent for a moment, but he simply held on, and I knew that he was more stubborn by nature than I could be if I worked at it for a hundred years. I was going to hear what he had to say—and I was going to tell him what he wanted to hear—whether I liked it or not. “I’m listening,” I said. He drew breath and relaxed a little but didn’t lessen his grip. “I’ve taken ye to bed a thousand times at least, Sassenach,” he said mildly. “Did ye think I wasna paying attention?” “Two or three thousand at least,” I said, in the interests of strict accuracy, staring at the digging knife I’d dropped on the ground. “And no.” “Well, then. I ken what ye’re like in bed. And I see—all too well,” he added, his mouth compressing momentarily, “—how this likely was.”

“No, you bloody don’t,” I said warmly. He made another Scottish noise, this one indicating hesitation. “I do,” he said, but carefully. “When I lost ye, after Culloden—I kent ye weren’t dead, but that made it all the worse, if ye ask me . . . eh?” I had made a noise of my own but gestured briefly at him to go on. “I told ye about Mary MacNab, aye? How she came to me, in the cave?” “Several years after the fact,” I said rather coldly. “But, yes, you did get round to it eventually.” I gave him a look. “I certainly didn’t blame you for that—and I didn’t ask you for the gory details, either.” “No, ye didn’t,” he admitted. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a knuckle. “Maybe ye weren’t jealous. I am.” He hesitated. “I’d tell ye, though—how it was—if ye wanted to know.” I looked at him, biting my lip dubiously. Did I want to know? If I didn’t—and I wasn’t at all sure whether I did or not—would he take that as evidence that I didn’t care? And I was quite conscious of that brief “I am.” I took a deep breath, accepting the implied bargain. “Tell me,” I said. “How it was.” Now he did look away, and I saw his throat move as he swallowed. “It . . . was tender,” he said quietly, after a moment. “Sad.” “Sad,” I echoed. “How?” He didn’t look up but kept his eyes fixed on the flowers, following the movements of a big black bumblebee among the furled blooms. “Both of us mourning things that were lost,” he said slowly, brows drawn down in thought. “She said she meant to keep ye alive for me, to let me . . . to let me imagine it was you, I suppose she meant.” “Didn’t work quite that way?” “No.” He looked up then, straight on, and his eyes went through me like a rapier through a scarecrow. “There couldna be anyone like you.” It wasn’t said with an air of compliment, more one of flat finality—or, even, of resentment. I lifted a shoulder briefly. There wasn’t much response I could make. “And?” He sighed and looked back at his knotted hands. He was squeezing the fingers of his narrowed right hand with his left, as though to remind himself of the missing finger. “It was quiet,” he said to his thumb. “We didna talk, really, not once we’d . . . begun.” He closed his eyes, and I wondered, with a small twinge of curiosity, just what he saw. I was surprised to realize that curiosity was all I felt—with, perhaps, pity for them. I’d seen the cave in which they’d made love, a cold granite tomb, and I knew how desperate the state of things had been in the Highlands then. Just the promise of a little human warmth . . . “Both of us mourning things that were lost,” he’d said. “It was just the once. It didna last very long; I—it had been a long time,” he said, and a faint flush showed across his cheekbones. “But . . . I needed it, verra much. She held me after, and . . . I needed that more. I fell asleep in her arms; she was gone when I woke. But I carried the warmth of her with me. For a long time,” he said very softly. That gave me a quite unexpected stab of jealousy, and I straightened a little, fighting it back with clenched hands. He sensed it and turned his head toward me. He’d felt that flame ignite—and had one to match it. “And you?” he said, giving me a hard, direct look. “It wasn’t tender,” I said with an edge. “And it wasn’t sad. It should have been. When he came into my room and said he wouldn’t mourn you alone, and we talked, then I got up and went to him, expecting—if I had so much as an expectation; I don’t think I had any conscious thoughts. . . .” “No?” He matched my edge with his own. “Blind drunk, were ye?” “Yes, I bloody was, and so was he.�� I knew what he was thinking; he wasn’t making any effort to hide it, and I had a sudden, vivid recollection of sitting with him in the corner of

a tavern in Cross Creek, his taking my face suddenly between his hands and kissing me, and the warm sweetness of wine passing from his mouth to mine. I sprang to my feet and slapped my hand on the bench. “Yes, I bloody was!” I said again, furious. “I was drunk every damned day since I heard you were dead.” He drew a deep, deep breath, and I saw his eyes fix on his hands, clenched on his knees. He let it out very slowly. “And what did he give ye, then?” “Something to hit,” I said. “At least to begin with.” He looked up at me, startled. “Ye hit him?” “No, I hit you,” I snapped. My fist had curled, without my realization, clenched against my thigh. I remembered that first blow, a blind, frenzied punch into unwary flesh, all the force of my grief behind it. The flex of recoil that took away the sensation of warmth for an instant, brought it back with a smash that flung me onto the dressing table, borne down by a man’s weight, his grip tight on my wrists, and me screaming in fury. I didn’t remember the specifics of what came next—or, rather, I recalled certain things very vividly but had no idea of the order in which they happened. “It was a blur,” people say. What they really mean is the impossibility of anyone truly entering such an experience from outside, the futility of explanation. “Mary MacNab,” I said abruptly. “She gave you . . . tenderness, you said. There should be a word for what this was, what John gave me, but I haven’t thought of it yet.” I needed a word that might convey, encapsulate. “Violence,” I said. “That was part of it.” Jamie stiffened and gave me a narrow look. I knew what he was thinking and shook my head. “Not that. I was numb—deliberately numb, because I couldn’t bear to feel. He could; he had more courage than I did. And he made me feel it, too. That’s why I hit him.” I’d been numb, and John had ripped off the dressing of denial, the wrappings of the small daily necessities that kept me upright and functioning; his physical presence had torn away the bandages of grief and showed what lay below: myself, bloody and unhealed. I felt the air thick in my throat, damp and hot and itching on my skin. And finally I found the word. “Triage,” I said abruptly. “Under the numbness, I was . . . raw. Bloody. Skinned. You do triage, you . . . stop the bleeding first. You stop it. You stop it, or the patient dies. He stopped it.” He’d stopped it by slapping his own grief, his own fury, over the welling blood of mine. Two wounds, pressed together, blood still flowing freely—but no longer lost and draining, flowing instead into another body, and the other’s blood into mine, hot, searing, not welcome—but life. Jamie said something under his breath in Gaelic. I didn’t catch most of the words. He sat with his head bent, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, and breathed audibly. After a moment, I sat back down beside him and breathed, too. The cicadas grew louder, an urgent buzz that drowned out the rush of water and the rustling of leaves, humming in my bones.

24 WELCOME COOLNESS IN THE HEAT, COMFORT IN THE MIDST OF WOE ~ Written in My Own Heart's Blood

[waynes-multiverse]

Can I put in the request for Ben to “support the fine arts?” 🤣

A/N: Hahaha you may! Hope you have fun with this! Based on this drabble and this little ask 😝

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSFW, smut (oral m), degrading, dirty talk, weird jealousy on both side, SB being a manipulative asshole

Word Count: 2.5k

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist

He Comes In Colors

The chatter in the classroom quiets down as your teacher, Mrs. Fournier, enters. You and your friends finish your sentences in hush and take your seats in front of your respective easels, not wanting to upset the strict, older lady again.

But instead of her usual cantankerous and bitter features, she sports an unusually bright smile and pinkly flushed cheeks today, still giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush and looking in the direction of the hallway as she walks to her desk.

Bashfully, she clears her throat and fights to regain her composure. “Class, we have a change of plans. I know we were supposed to devote our attention to the intricacies of nature today, but an opportunity presented itself we simply cannot pass up on. We have a very special guest this beautiful afternoon, who so graciously volunteered to be our model for this class.”

Your chest tightens slightly at her words, encumbered with a dark forewarning that settles in your gut. And as you catch a flicker of an all too familiar sage green kimono by the door, the bad omen in your belly only grows.

He wouldn’t dare, you think. Would he?

But you don’t have to answer your own question. Deep down you already know.

Of course, he would.

“Ladies and gentlemen, meet our model for today – the one and only Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier introduces, and you watch with parted lips as your stupid boyfriend strides into the classroom with an even stupider grin.

Mrs. Fournier claps with vivid adoration, expecting the class to follow her lead, but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than an annoyed slow clap. You shoot him a glare, and the smirk directed at you tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He aims to get on your nerves. He wants you to be mad.

Now, you’re sure you’ve done something in the last couple of days to upset him, and this is his way to enact his revenge instead of talking to you like an emotionally intelligent human being. Because Ben’s a fucking petty child, and this is how he deals with his feelings.

Ben offers his most charming red-carpet smile. “Pleasure to be here and support the fine arts, Mrs.–”

“Fournier,” your teacher provides all too helpfully.

“Ah, like fornicate. I can remember that,” Ben quips with a flirtatious smirk, while you suppress the sudden urge to stab him with the sharp end of your paintbrush.

You half expect the French woman to be appalled by the dirty joke. But to your big surprise, your over-sixty teacher only giggles in response like a high school freshman when the quarterback winks at her in the hallway.

“It is such an honor to have you here in my classroom, Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier raves with a blush haunting her cheeks. “You have been my favorite superhero ever since I was a little girl.”

“Oh, so only ten years, huh?” Ben flirts shamelessly, all the while sending you little glances that let you know that this is your punishment.

Do you have a clue yet what you did? Nope! And you suppose you will never find out. You just have to get through this.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Soldier Boy devilishly rubs his palms together as he struts into the middle of the room, and with one flawless swing, he drops the robe and stands before you (and your classmates) in all his god-given glory. And boy, did God give – not only with two hands but probably with six or seven.

Mrs. Fournier gasps unabashedly with a palm on her weak heart and goddamn drool in your mouth, causing your frown only to deepen.

“Marvelous! Simply marvelous,” she rhapsodizes and is close to fainting. Of course, your boyfriend enjoys all this attention greatly. “It’s like staring at the statue of David!”

“Oh, please…” you mutter with a miffed scoff and roll your eyes back, but that only earns you a scolding glare from your teacher. You know then that showing your displeasure with the situation will only secure you a failing grade.

Ben then props his foot up on a little stool right in front of you, his cock hanging heavy and long between his muscular bow legs. And no, it’s not inflated to its full size but still as impressive and formidable as a lion king during a safari.

His gaze only sweeps across you before it lingers on your friend Alexander. There’s a cocky and yet threatening glint in your boyfriend’s eyes as he assesses the male next to you.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Soldier Boy prompts daringly. Only your boyfriend could talk about his dick like that and not even feel an ounce of shame. “Don’t worry, squirt. I’m sure yours is just fine,” he adds, but you know he doesn’t mean it.

And then, suddenly, it dawns on you – why he has decided to infiltrate your art class.

Two nights ago, you went out with Alexander and a few other friends from class for drinks and didn’t invite Ben. Mostly because Ben is obnoxious when he meets new people and is a little too “old-school values” for your hipster friends. It would take ages alone to even explain all their different sexualities and pronouns to your last-century boyfriend. You just wanted one night for yourself, and you knew now that hurt his feelings.

You even felt a tiny bit bad and guilty but by far not enough to accept this current shit show he was delivering.

“Oh my, I don’t want to be too forward but may I–” Your teacher doesn’t finish her sentence, but her reaching hand is suggestion enough.

Soldier Boy chuckles amusedly. “Oh, you may,” he says but smirks at you as you gape at him in utter indignation. “What kind of hero would I be, if I said no? After all, this body belongs to every American citizen.”

And as Mrs. Fournier’s greedy palm stretches for your boyfriend’s perky buttcheek, something inside you snaps. You jump up from your seat, all wild and fuming, before you realize everyone is staring at you with wide eyes and confused brows. No one knows you’re dating him, so your upset seems completely unwarranted to everyone else in the room. Only Ben’s lips rise triumphantly.

“Be-… Soldier Boy,” you correct yourself and clear your throat, forcing a tight-lipped smile on your face. “A word, please?”

“Y/N, we’re in the middle of a class. Show our guest some respect,” your teacher demands chidingly.

But Ben soothes her anger with another charming smile. “Oh, absolutely no problem, beautiful,” he says and causes Mrs. Fournier to blush once more. “Y/N here is clearly an adoring fan, and I always have time for my fans.”

“Yes, I’m a huge fan. I’ve never met a real celebrity before. My grandma will be so thrilled when I tell her all about it,” you lie as dryly as possible. Honestly, you’re so pissed you can’t get yourself to act remotely convincing.

“We’ll be right back,” Ben excuses with a tight smile.

He quickly throws his robe back on and grabs your upper arm, ushering you outside. You want to stop in the hallway, but he drags you further and shoves you into a supply closet, closing the door a little too roughly.

“You know the rules: no fucking drama in public. It’s not good for my image,” he reminds you sternly, and you try not to scoff.

“How dare you say that after waltzing into my goddamn class? Ben, my education is serious. You don’t mess with that,” you point out angrily and fold your arms over your tits. “I don’t have time for your petty revenge.”

“Yeah, you never have fucking time,” he huffs scornfully.

“Is this because I didn’t invite you for drinks with my friends?” You cock an eyebrow, shooting him a knowing look.

“No, this is because you went out with that fucking empty nutsack in there,” he bites and points an angry finger at you. “And by the way, you’d be fucking lucky to show me off. I’m a fucking catch! Have you seen how those bitches fawned over me in there?”

“Who? Mrs. Fournier? That old hag hasn’t seen any action since the French Revolution. She’d fawn over a fucking trash bag,” you retort and watch Ben purse his lips dejectedly. You smirk a little at your win.

But you don’t want to antagonize him more. You can tell that you hurt his fragile ego with your rejection, and while he fucking annoys you and drives you incredibly mad sometimes, you’re still deeply in love with the idiot in front of you. He does have his sweet moments every once in a while. He comes in many colors, a whole palette of different shades.

“Look, uhm, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to, okay? I don’t want you to be jealous. You have no reason to be, alright? I love you, asshole,” you tell him with a small smile.

“Fine, maybe I was a little jealous,” he admits after a beat. “But not of that scrawny twinkie in there.”

“Alright, maybe I was a little jealous, too,” you remark to make him feel better. “But not of that old French whore in there.” Ben snorts at that, chuckling. “So, do you forgive me and get the fuck outta my class now?”

Ben muses slyly and then grins. “I don’t think that apology was good enough.” Your brow draws into a deep frown at his words. Whatever has gotten into his mind now can’t be good. “They do say an apology is only worthy if it’s said on someone’s knees.”

You glare at him, your hands balling into furious fists by your side. “You gotta be kidding me…” you mutter and hiss through your teeth, “Ben, I’m not fucking blowing you in the supply closet of my school!”

Ben only shrugs carelessly. “Alright, guess I’ll have to ask Mrs. French Whore and see if she takes me up on my offer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you grit.

“Oh, we both know I would, but I do prefer your beautiful and warm mouth, doll,” Ben smirks, letting each word roll off his tongue as his thumb pad reaches out and seductively traces your pink lips.

Instinctively, you suck his thumb into your mouth and massage it with your tongue, only widening his brash smile. As your eyes flicker down, you notice his rock-hard cock push through the fabric of the kimono and salute you. Your legs grow wobbly at the sight, your knees giving in with the urge to bend.

“Down,” he mouths, and you oblige without another protest, sinking to your knees in front of him.

You part your lips and stick your tongue out, ready to welcome his swollen tip. He fists his length and jerks his palm up and down a few times. He likes it to be as big as possible. He loves to see you struggle as you desperately try to fit all of him inside your tiny mouth.

His free hand lifts your chin, forces your eyes to find his as he guides his cock to your waiting mouth. He plops it on your tongue, heavy and thick, and lets it rest there for a second, gauging your reaction with a knowing smirk. You seal your lips around his weeping tip without question, your tongue swirling around it and dipping into the slit. You lick the salty precum with moans of pleasure, your hums sending vibrations up and down his length as your head begins to bob.

With each swallow you get closer to his pelvic bone, but Ben’s impatient and fists his hand into your hair. He roughly tugs and pulls you all the way down till your nose disappears in the little tuft of hair and tears stream down your cheeks as you cough for air.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl. Choke on my cock, you little slut,” he growls. His hips rock and find a rhythm as he thrusts inside you, hitting the back of your throat each time. “Fuck, that’ll teach you a lesson, won’t it? Who do you fucking belong to?”

He pulls you off his spit-drenched cock for the sole reason of replying. You look up at him as he expectantly meets your gaze with an arched eyebrow.

“You, daddy,” you reply on command.

He smirks in satisfaction and praises you, “There’s my good girl.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes back inside you. “Gonna send you back in with my cum all over you. Show those little pricks they can’t fucking touch what’s mine.”

As his hips gain speed, you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, feeling him swell on your tongue. Your jaw begins to ache, barely fitting his girth while his massive length drills relentlessly into your throat. Drool dribbles out from the sides of your mouth and mixes with your tears. Your mascara is nonexistent at this point and smeared all over your face.

And you know damn well, as soon as you walk back into class, everyone will know what you did.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Ben groans and pistons deeper once more, squeezing his eyes shut. You know it’s his telltale sign that he's close. “You’re such a fucking mess. Shit, gonna blow…”

He grunts as his hips stutter and his cock throbs in your mouth. He shoots hot ropes of cum down your throat, pulling out in the midst to paint your face with the rest. God knows he would never miss an opportunity to mark you. And when he’s done with his piece of sublime artwork, he smirks down at you, all self-satisfied and proud.

But then a bit of sweetness returns as he holds out his hands and helps you back on your feet. He gently tucks and brushes your hair back into place before snatching a roll of paper towels from the rack of art supplies behind you. He thoroughly cleans your face, removing any evidence of his deed, and kisses your hairline like you’re his most prized possession when he’s finished.

“There, all done, doll.” Ben’s smile makes you blush as he cups your cheeks. “No one will be the fucking wiser.”

As the two of you saunter back inside, no one seems to suspect anything. You get back to your original seat, while Ben invents some silly excuse to get out of his naked commitment.

But then Alexander tilts his head at you with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, his finger pointing at his own cheek. “Y/N, uhm, I think you have something there. Oh, uhm, is that…”

He doesn’t finish as your eyes widen and your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your shocked gaze darts to your boyfriend as he lingers by the door. With one last cunning smirk, he winks at you and heads out.

Yes, your boyfriend surely comes in many colors – and most of them are dark.

And yes, you bet your ass Ben was crushing hard on Mrs. Fournier 😂 Hope you enjoyed this!

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Therapist

Rosie Rosenthal X Therapist! Reader

Summary: Rosie needs to stop controlling everything; maybe his therapist can help...

Warning: +18/ sub!Rosie/ softdom!reader/ riding/ oral sex (f and m)/ forbidden relationship/ mention of death/ swearing/ praise/ use of Y/n/ fingering/

Word count: 3.0k

Her official job title was military surgeon, but since the soldiers needed someone to talk to, Y/n became their confident and gave them advice, she heard a lot of things every day, but today, her newest patient was Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal. A few weeks ago, he was the only plane back from a mission, he saw everyone go down, word on the base was that he was closing to everyone, he didn’t talk about it with anyone, he shut down and acted like nothing happened. As she got ready to see him, she looked at his file, and she looked at his pictures, he was good looking, but she had to stay professional. She saw man like him all the time, not wanting to show any emotions, acting tough but if she said the right things, she could crack this wall he built up.

When he knocked at her door, he was kind of nervous, he didn’t like to talk about what was happening in the air, not with his colleagues and certainly not with a random person. Y/n opened the door, looking at the pilot in front of her, she told him to come inside as she closed the door behind him. ‘’Major Rosenthal, pleasure to meet you, I’m Dr. Mitchell’’ she introduced herself as she sat on a couch in front of him. ‘’Please, call me Rosie’’ he said, sitting down. ‘’Rosie how are you feeling?’’ she shyly smiled, she saw men all the time, but Rosie was really handsome. She had to supress the thoughts she had, they weren’t professional. ‘’Don’t take it personally, Doc, but I don’t know what I’m doing here’’ he started, anger could be heard in his voice. ‘’I understand your frustration, Rosie, but you did fly the mission with the most casualties’’ she delicately commented.

It had been 45 minutes since the session started and Rosie was impatient, he shouldn’t be here and as beautiful as Dr. Mitchell was, he wanted to get out of her office. ‘’Can I ask you one last question, Rosie?’’ she asked, looking at him. He bobbed his head, slowly, before taking a deep breath. ‘’Do you like being in control?’’ she simply asked. He didn’t understand the question. ‘’In control of what?’’ he spat, frustrated. ‘’Things in your life, the time you get up, what you eat, where you go and in control in aspect of your life, like friendships or sexual intercourse’’ she coughed at the end of her sentence. Her cheeks were becoming red and the air in the room felt heavy. ‘’Yeah, I like to control my own life, and sometimes, uh, yes, I’m, uh in control in the- the- bedroom, why do you ask?’’ he stuttered. He tried to not show how nervous he was. ‘’Because that’s why you’re angry of being here, not having control. I’m going to free you from this session’’ he walked towards the door. ‘’Major, we see each other in a week, during this time, can you try to do something that needs you to not be in control.’’ She blurts out. ‘’Like what?’’ he asks, because nothing comes in his mind. ‘’Ask a friend to set up your alarm, let someone organize something, and if you find a woman, let her be in charge’’ she blushed, again. ‘’Of the date or something.’’ She babbled, trying to not sound like she was encouraging him to have sex with someone. ‘’I’ll try, Doc’’ he said before leaving the room.

She couldn’t sleep, too many sinful thoughts were in her mind. It wasn’t professional to think about a patient that way. What was she thinking, suggesting him to have sex and not being in control?! That night, she tossed and turned, thinking about Major Rosenthal in an incriminating way, good news was, she had one week before seeing him again. Bad news was, she had one week before seeing him again.

He really fucking tried, he let his friend set his alarm, he almost did everything she asked him to, but he didn’t see how it helped him. Plus, he had wet dreams about her all week. He kept thinking about having sex with her, how she would moan his name, how her innocent gaze would be when she sucked him off. He was nervous before his appointment. He didn’t know how his body was going to react when he sees her. Nonetheless, he entered her office, smelling her perfume as he pushed the doors. There she was, wearing a white blouse with a beige skirt. When she turned to face him, he thought he was going to faint, since when did she wore glasses? They were transparent, but still it gave her this innocent look that drove him mad.

‘’Major, how have you been?’’ she smiles as she looks at him. He plays with his fingers a little bit, before sitting down in front of her. ‘’Frustrated, Doc, I’ve tried to give up control, but it’s hard’’ he said. That and the fact that he kept thinking about having sex with her didn’t help. ‘’And what did you try to do?’’ she bit her lips as she wrote what he was saying. The air was hot in the room, Rosie was practically boiling alive. ‘’Everything, except things that involved a woman’’ he admitted. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek to supress a grin on her face. She looked at his lips, God she wanted to kiss him right now. She cleared her throat as she pushed her thoughts far away, at least she tried. ‘’And how did it go?’’ she asked. ‘’Like shit, I don’t understand how this is going to help me getting back in the plane’’ he confesses. ‘’Rosie, the urge you feel, of getting back in the plane. That’s because you feel guilty of being alive. You don’t understand why them and not you.’’ She blurts out. ‘’Can I sit next to you’’ he asks, before getting up. Y/n nods and bites her lips again. He was listening to her psychoanalysis of him, watching her face, seeing how she blushed her she caught him looking at her. ‘’But maybe I’m wrong’’ she whispered, looking at him. ‘’Do you have problems with proximity?’’ she asks him. She watches as he shakes his head. ‘’So, you don’t think that everyone around you is going to die?’’ she clarifies. ‘’Why all these questions, Doc?’’ his voice was low, making her shiver.

‘’I’m just trying to understand your mind’’ she breaths out. He noticed how her breathing got quicker and her pupils were dilated. ‘’I just think we would have a clearer idea of what’s rushing you back if you opened up to me’’ she stated, avoiding eye contact, he was so damn beautiful, Y/n thought that if their eyes met, she was going to be as red as a tomato. The tension in the air was dangerously close to burst. He moved his leg ‘accidentally’ touching hers, he watched as she hissed, but she wasn’t scared, she was in the same state as him; desperate. ‘’You’re right, Doc, I feel guilty for being alive, so I try to control everything around me, but this week as been torture. I kept thinking about you’’ he admitted, he wanted to see if she was bold enough to flirt back. Y/n blushed even harder as she took her glasses off, putting them on the side table. She looked at Rosie. ‘’What were you thinking about’’ she tried to stay professional, but it was hanging by a thread. She moved her leg so their leg would touch. He looked at their legs and looked back up to her. ‘’Testing your theory with you, Doc’’ he admitted. Y/n blinked multiple times before biting her lips, again. ‘’Really?’’ she flirted, still not daring to look at him in the eyes. ‘’Dead serious, you’re all I’ve been thinking about all week’’ he leans closer to her face, he could hear her heart beating really fast. ‘’And what are you going to do about it?’’ she breathed out as her eyes trailed all over his body. He smirked; she was flirting back. ‘’I can think of a few things, but again, I’m not good at letting someone else be in control’’ he teased. ‘’I can teach you how’’ she said, against his lips. They took one last look at the other before breaking the rules and kissing each other.

He made clear that he was going to be the dominant one, but Y/n had to remind him. ‘’I’m in control, remember Rosie’’ she grins as she kisses his neck. ‘’Then show me -ah- show me how to let go’’ he breathed out. She smiled as she pushed herself on top of him, as she began to grind her hips, his hands found their way on her thighs. ‘’Let me take care of you, Rosie’’ she whispered in his ears. Y/n felt his erection on her covered core, she wanted him so much. They were both breathing heavily, he watched her breast move as she breathed. He began unbuttoning her blouse, she looked at his fingers with a smirk on her face. She kept moving her hips to a slow, sensual pace, it drove him crazy, he needed her to do something else. His knuckles were turning white, he was gripping the couch too tightly. ‘’Use your words, Major. You want me to do something, you ask’’ she breathed out, kissing his neck. He threw her blouse on the ground and kissed her collarbones. ‘’Please, Doc, ah, please do something’’ he whimpered. Y/n grins before sliding off his lap to kneel in front of him.

‘’You touch me, and I stop, got it?’’ she looked at him in the eyes. His chest was rising with pleasure, how he wanted to take control. He quickly nodded before unbuckling his belt. He let the woman take his pants and boxer off. She was surprised by his length, he was big. She licked her lips before pressing small kisses on the top. Y/n could see Rosie struggling to keep his hands to himself. He threw his head back and his pulse quickened. Y/n kept kissing the top on his length, then she brought one hand at the base of his cock and started to slowly, stoke it. She saw goosebumps on his thighs. ‘’Words, Major’’ she reminded him. ‘’I need you to suck me off, please, Doc, plea’’ his word got lost in throat when she fully took him in her mouth. He moaned in surprise, causing the woman to giggle, sending vibration on his cock. He couldn’t help it, one of his hands went in her hair, she moved her head back, taking his length out of her mouth, making Rosie whimper. ‘’No hands’’ she smirked.

Rosie wanted to say fuck those rules so bad, but he thought that she was so hot, taking control and taking care of him like that. So, he took his hand off and she resumed what she was doing. She never could’ve guessed how vocal Rosie was, whimpers, breathy moans, small growls and shaky breath, that man wasn’t afraid of making sure she knew she pleasured him. Y/n felt his length throb in her mouth, she looked up and it was a sight for sore eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing his abs, his head was thrown back and his Adam apple kept bobbing. Then, when she felt him getting close, she stopped everything. ‘’No’’ he whined. Y/n smiled and got up in front of him, stripping from her skirt. ‘’I didn’t even touch you’’ he tried to plead his case. ‘’I need to come, please, Doc, let me come’’ he begged. He looked so good like this, begging and submissive. His cheeks were red, he looked sweaty but in a hot way. ‘’You want to come, Major’’ she teased in a sensual voice. He nodded, swallowing hard. ‘’Please’’ he whispered. She got rid of her panties, he wanted to touch her so bad, so he swallowed his pride and decided to fully give her control. ‘’Can I touch you, Y/n?’’ her name rolled off his tongue like a prayer. She looked at him, smiling as she sat on the couch in front of him, she spread her legs and looked at him. He got off the couch and crawled to her, he was like a starved man. She had to stay strong, because the look he gave her as he crawled to her was enough for her to throw every ounce of feminism out the window. His eyes were dark, his mouth slightly opened, and his curls were messy. When he reached her, he trailed his hands on her bare thighs, before pulling her closer to him by the back of her thighs. She yelped, surprised by his move. ‘’Can I, please, eat you out?’’ he pleaded, looking at her in the eyes. ‘’Yes, Major’’ she breathed out. He sunk between her thighs and pressed small kisses to her inner thigh before kissing her exposed flesh.

His mouth felt so good, his mustache was adding something else, it was itching, but it felt so good. She threw her head back as her hands found his curls. He thought about playing with the same rules as hers, but she was in control. He was humming around her clit, sending vibrations that drove her mad. One of Rosie’s hands snuck up to play with her breast. She put one of her hands on top of his, she squeezed it to show him how he made her feel. Y/n arched her back as she moaned his name. But Rosie’s other hand pressed down on her stomach, adding pressure. ‘’Oh shit, Rosie, I’m close’’ she breathed out. He hummed to show her that he heard her, then decided to stop playing with her breast, he inserted one finger inside of her. ‘’Holy fuck, you’re soaking wet. Is that because you like to be in control? Uh, you like to be in charge’’ He grins, she felt hot around his finger. ‘’Yeah, right there’’ she breathed out. He looked at her, she looked like a goddess, her hair messy, her skin glowing with the coat of sweat, he could’ve come just with this sight. As he added another finger, he felt her clench around him. ‘’That’s right, come for me, pretty girl’’ he praised her. That was enough to send her over the edge, she arched her back as she was sent into pure extasy.

It took her a few minutes to recover, but when she did, she slid down the couch, to reach Rosie. He was seated against the other couch; she got on top of him. His arms were laid on the couch, he looked so ridable. ‘’Ready, Major?’’ she asked against his lips. ‘’Please, ride me’’ he sighed. Y/n positioned herself on top of him, their lips were touching, but they weren’t kissing. She sunk down on him, they both breathed out, shakily as Y/n took the time to adjust to him. ‘’Fuck’’ he moaned. He kissed her neck, to distract her from the uncomfortable stretching. When she felt ready, she began rocking her hips. ‘’Can I touch you?’’ he moaned. ‘’Yes’’ she whimpered. He places his hands on her hips, to try and guide her to a faster pace, but she denied him. She shook her head as she slowed down the rhythm. ‘’Nah, I’m still in control’’ she smirked. He pushed his tongue on his cheek as he caressed her hips. The smell of sex in the room was intoxicating. She began to rock her hips faster, because it was torture for her too. She arched her back as she kissed him sloppily. The pleasure was too much, she bit down his bottom lip, not too hard, but hard enough to send shivers down his spine. He decided that he wanted more intimacy, so he put his hands on her back and came closer to her body, he was hugging her, but the proximity allowed his pelvic bone to touch her clit and add stimulation. She put her hands in his back, scratching him in the process. The pace was fast, raw, sensual, almost animalistic. They both needed a release. ‘’I’m close, please let me come’’ he moaned in her ear. ‘’Please, please, please’’ he kept begging. Y/n’s brain started to form a sentence. ‘’Come with me, at the same time’’ she ordered. Since he was close, he decided to drop one of his hands and stimulate her clit with his fingers. Right now, she couldn’t care less about him asking permission to finger her, she was close, and he was helping her get there.

Rosie felt Y/n clench around his dick, her thighs started to shake from all this stimulation, he sucked on her neck. ‘’I’m gonna cum, c’mon pretty boy, cum with me!’’ she whined. ‘’You’re doing so good’’ she praised him. It was enough to trigger both their climax, they were a moaning mess as their body shook from pleasure. Y/n could feel his hot release throbbing inside of her and slipping on her inner thigh. They were both out of breath and glistening with sweat.

It took a minute for the both of them to come down from Nirvana. ‘’That was’’ he started, out of words to describe what just happened. ‘’See, letting someone else in charge can be fun’’ she chucked. He rolled his eyes as be playfully hit her ass. She yelped in surprise but smiled. Y/n got up first, even though she didn’t trust her legs, she got her panties back on as she sat on the couch. Rosie got up too, putting his boxers back on and sitting next to her. ‘’Thank you, Y/n, for everything’’ he said, kissing the top of her head. She smiled at the small display of affection. ‘’It was my pleasure.’’ She teased. They both laugh and look at each other. ‘’Do you think you could move my next appointment to earlier in the week?’’ he asked, making her laugh. ‘’Why?’’ she asked. ‘’Because I’m a hard learner and I’ll have to give you control again.’’

[moirasdolly]

hii! Hope your doing well ! Okay so I wanted to make a request that i had in my mind for a little while but..fem reader forbidden love with Arlecchino(sort of) -hear me out🥲

So this could begin with like, the reader being from the orphanage just like Arlecchino back then and like the reader got expelled from it or something realized to the reader being separated from her. And years go on where on a mission (somehow) Arlecchino had too much to drink and had a one night stand with another woman(the reader), Upon the realization and choosing the avoid and forget about the subject, the said subject(reader) stumbles upon the twins and somehow becomes friends with the two meaning the reader eventually gets introduced to Arlecchino and well, it becomes all awkward and stuff since reader could remember sort of glimpses of what had happened and that night.(so sorry, but as I was typing this I had been listening to the song "a little death" by the neighbourhood and got the Idea, but for the rest forgot what else to add so I leave this to you, you don't have to do this if you do not wish to, is just something I had in my mind for a while ♡)

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Language ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟArlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Detailed in the request !!

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), hurt and comfort, Crucabena mention, one night stand, Arle can’t regulate her emotions…

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Language - Alexis Munroe

Notes: Hi!! Thank you for requesting such an interesting prompt, I’ll admit i did struggle with this, but it sort of reminded me of the song Language by Alexis Munroe, so I kind of took inspo from that too. I tried to stay along the general lines of your request but I did switch up a few things, I hope you like it!

Tears ran down your cheeks as you were pulled away from Peruere. Your eyes searched her crimson-cross eyes for any form of help, but no matter how many times you had tried to reach for her hand, you were pulled back by the strong Fatui soldiers at your side. “Mother, why?” You struggled against those who were holding you back, by now you were a mess, but you didn’t care. You just needed to know why Mother had wanted to toss you out like nothing. “Because you’re useless to us now. Simple as that.” And with a wave of Crucabena’s hand you were taken away to God knows where.

As you struggled all Peruere could do was watch, paralyzed in fear. Her dear friend was being taken away from her and there was nothing she could do. Your screams of distress rang out in her ears, and it wasn’t until you had been removed from the room could she even register what happened. Silent tears streaked her cheeks as she met Crucabena’s cold gaze. “M-Mother…” Peruere’s voice was so shaky it barely came out as a whisper. “Where are you taking her?” 

It was as if the evil woman had no regard for the child she had just thrown out because when she spoke, she acted like she was talking about taking out the trash. “We shouldn’t keep things that don’t serve us. Don’t you agree.?” Her icy gaze told Peruere that there was no disagreeing with her, so all she could do was nod along. She didn’t feel that way though, she missed her best friend. She would do anything to see her again.

-

You were sat at a quaint little bar in your hometown in the Fontaine when the woman a few seats down threw a comment your way. “You might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, you’re like a doll.” Your eyebrows raised at the familiar voice, you knew that tone from anywhere. Although you were almost 100% sure it was Peruere, you still turned to get a better look. There were those eyes again. Her crimson eyes stared right back at you and you felt your heart almost stop. You had to be sure it was her… “May I ask your name? You look familiar.” You ask, leaning in subtly after returning your own name to her as well.

There had been something you couldn’t quite pin down flash across her features after you said your name, but before you could notice, it was gone. “Arlecchino.” She says quickly. Huh? You thought to yourself. Maybe she had started going by something else, I mean it had been years since you last saw each other. You wondered if she was still working under Crucabena. It stung a little bit that she didn’t even remember you even though you had been so inseparable as children. She was your first friend, your first love. 

“Well Arlecchino, if you think I’m the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen, why don’t you show me?” Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your system, but it gave you an extra boost of confidence you wouldn’t have had otherwise. Arlecchino’s cheeks heat up at your words and you can tell she was equally as buzzed as you. “If you insist.” She said with a grin as she extended her gloved hand to you. You tried to hide a gasp when she stood up, but she was just so different from the last time you saw her. She was taller, more mature, but most of all she had a hidden strength to her that you only noticed when she tugged you out of your seat and snaked an arm around your waist.

Her hand rested at your hip and squeezed it firmly as the two of you made your way to her hotel room. You thanked the Archons that her hotel was just a block away from the bar because every moment that you weren’t being ravaged by her it felt like a year was being taken off of your lifespan. You needed her so badly that it was ridiculous, you were just so happy to see her again even if she didn’t seem to recognize you.

Once you had entered the elevator she smashed a finger down on her floor, the top floor you noticed. It seemed as if both of you were waiting for the elevator doors to shut because as soon as they did, Arlecchino’s hands were all over you. She had already begun to unbutton your crisp white shirt, revealing a skimpy black balconette bra that accentuated your breasts perfectly. Lipstick stains littered your chest as she left wet, messy kisses across every bit of exposed skin. She eventually worked her way up to your neck to suck little purple bruises into your delicate skin, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from letting out a pathetic whine.

You were interrupted by the tell-tale ding of the elevator doors opening, and you two were so caught up with each other that you hadn’t even noticed at first. Once the other woman was able to rip herself away from you she enveloped your hand in her own and led you to her room. You two stumbled into the room like you were two fawns learning how to walk for the first time, and you had barely made it to her bedroom. 

She laid you on the bed as gently as a drunk woman could before trying to unbutton the rest of your shirt. Her usually deft fingers were failing her tonight because she couldn’t quite get the next button off. Instead of asking you for help, the next logical decision for her was to just rip your shirt open. You gasped as the buttons flew in different directions in her room and you mourned the loss of one of your favorite shirts. Your little pity party was cut short though because Arlecchino had wasted no time unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side. At the sight of your breasts she couldn’t control herself, and she took one of them into her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around your hardening nipple. She didn’t neglect the other one though and instead put her hand to work to knead your breast.

Little moans filled the room and you couldn’t help but think about how heavenly her mouth felt on you. “More please…” Your soft voice called out to her and she obliged. You whined at the loss of her mouth as she flipped you around to be on your stomach. Your face pressed into the soft pillows as she pushed up your little skirt, ripped your poor stockings into shreds, and slid your panties down to your knees. Your cheeks heated up at the compromised position you were in, but Arlecchino almost wished she could take a picture for later. She caressed your soft hips and her fingers sent shivers straight down your arched spine. 

“I won’t tease you, I want you too, darling.” Arlecchino’s deep voice whispered into your ear. She pressed a hand onto your back as her other hand rubbed small circles onto your hip. She lifted her hand slightly before letting it come crashing down onto your ass. Your lips parted into a little “O” shape at the sting of her hand on your skin. You weren’t expecting it, but you didn’t complain when it happened again. You were bracing yourself for another one, but instead you felt a finger running down your dripping slit. You mewled at her feather light touch and tried bucking your hips back to get a little more friction.

You didn’t have to wait much longer though because she had instantly slid a long digit into your aching cunt. Her pace was nice and slow at first, only picking up when she added another finger. “You take me so well, good girl.” She groaned as she pumped her fingers into you. She reached the deepest parts of you that no one else ever could and you felt like you would go insane as she added a third finger. You felt so incredibly full and you had begun moving your hips back to meet the thrusts of her fingers. Her free hand caressed your back gently and it was a direct contrast to how rough her fingers were inside of you.

She caged you in under her and it almost sent you over the edge how she was grunting in your ear as she fucked you open on her fingers. You tilted your head slightly to get a glimpse of her, and when you saw her bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead and the way her face was scrunched up in concentration, you felt heat pool in your stomach. “Don’t stop!” You whined out in desperation. You might have sounded pathetic, but you couldn’t control the noises spilling from your lips as her fingers curled into you, hitting that little bundle of nerves each time.

Pressure was building in your stomach and with a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers you came hard. Your hands gripped the sheets as you squirmed under Arlecchino, but she didn’t slow down for you. It was only the beginning of your night together.

-

The two of you were now fully naked and panting against each other as your actions caught up to you. Arlecchino collapsed onto the plush bed and pulled you close against her, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as she planted a kiss on your lips. “You’re perfect…” She mumbled, and maybe it was selfish, but you wanted her to remember you so badly.

By now, the alcohol’s effects had long worn off and now that Arlecchino’s head was clear, she had been fully aware that the woman she had slept with was you. Her heart raced an abnormal amount and she was so torn on what to do. She had fucked up when she didn’t try to fight for you, but she was just a kid like you. What could she have done to stop Crucabena’s plans? She wanted to apologize so badly, but she felt like she had no right. You had to know it was her too, right? 

Arlecchino was so caught up in her own head that she hadn’t noticed you calling her name softly. “Sorry, doll. What was that again?” She murmurs gently, holding you closer to her.

“All I said was I’m sleepy.” You mumbled as you yawned. “Sleep then, I’ll be here.” The other woman ran her fingers through your hair, careful not to hurt you. Sleep was already taking over your body as your eyes fluttered shut. “I love you Peruere.” You whispered carelessly just before falling asleep. Arlecchino’s eyes widened and her body stiffened for a moment. Tears pooled in her eyes before she let them fall silently, just like on the night you were taken away from her. 

-

The morning after was a cold awakening to you when you woke up without her on your side. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but soon they turned into full sobs racking through your body. You couldn’t believe she truly didn’t remember you, your hopes that she did were crushed the moment you saw the note left on the bedside table. “Headed off to work. Left money for an Uber home, thanks for the good night. Call me sometime xxxxxxx” What a thoughtless note. You tried to gather what was left of your clothing so you could leave in a somewhat presentable manner. To your dismay you could only button the top of your shirt and your stockings were completely destroyed. You were able to tuck your shirt into your skirt to hide the fact that the bottom half of your buttons were missing, but you still felt like some type of whore as you left her room to return home. 

Your vision was still blurry with tears as you rushed out of the elevator that you didn’t even notice two people about to get in. You collided with the taller of the two and you both fell to the ground with a loud thump. Before you could register what had happened, the man apologized and offered you a hand. You took it wearily before apologies began tumbling out of your mouth profusely. “Don’t sweat it. I’m Lyney, and this is my sister Lynette.” He had introduced himself and his sister. You muttered your name, your tone laced with embarrassment at the state of yourself right now. “Pardon me for being intrusive, but what happened?” Lyney inquired once you had introduced yourself. You couldn’t just say, “Oh nothing, it's just that my first love who I hadn’t seen since we were children fucked me, didn’t recognize me, and left before I even woke up,” so instead you settled for, “It was a rough night.” The two nodded their heads before sharing glances. You oddly didn’t feel judged by them, but you did notice their empathetic gazes on you.

“It’s fine though!” You waved your hands around trying to get your point across without worrying them too much. “How about we take you out to eat, you look like you could use a couple of friends right now.” Lyney shot you a warm smile, and you couldn’t say no to a face like that. “Alright then… Thank you seriously.”

Your little trio was beginning to form very quickly, and you noticed that the atmosphere between the three of you had gotten very friendly and familiar in no time. Even Lynette’s usual quiet demeanor was left behind as she got to know you. Everyone was stuffed from the food and after a moment of just enjoying each other's presence, you thought it would be appropriate to pay. The waitress had dropped off everyone’s checks not too long ago, so you began reaching into your purse to retrieve your credit card. Before you could though, Lyney placed a gentle hand over yours and shook his head with a good natured laugh. “Don’t worry about it! It’s on us.” Confusion washed over your face as your eyes flickered to Lynette and she nodded her head.

“I couldn’t possibly let you guys pay for me! We only just met after all…” You protested, but they weren’t having any of it. As the waitress came back around Lyney gestured for her to lean down and once she did, he whispered something into her ear. She nodded curtly before waving us off with a, “Have a nice day!” and a polite smile. It seemed like the day just kept getting more weird by the second. “What was that about?” You questioned, and the two siblings shared a look– like they were exchanging words without actually speaking.

Lyney was the first to break the silence, “You see, we work for a large orphanage, so we have a tab at the restaurant.” You furrowed your brows, but accepted the explanation anyway. You had your suspicions on what orphanage it was, but you kept that to yourself. “I see… Well in any case I’d like to repay both of you sometime for the meal. If you want, can we all exchange numbers?” You suggest. Regardless of who they worked for, you wanted to become better friends with the siblings. They obliged happily and with that you bid each other goodbye until next time.

-

The three of you had grown close and their younger sibling Freminet had even begun making appearances. Since you were older than them, you did feel like a bit of an older sister, but it seemed as if they didn’t mind the dynamic at all, you found it cute, and you really enjoyed their presence. After your initial meeting, they had started coloring your world little by little, bringing you joy just at the thought of seeing them.

One night you had all agreed to go out for dinner again and to meet up at the hotel they stayed in before heading off. You were adorned in a mid length silk dress that draped off of your curves effortlessly and black heels that made a delicate clicking noise every time you took a step. It was odd dressing up so fancy, but the siblings insisted that their father was joining them, so they would be taking me somewhere more high end. You were honestly nervous to meet their father, he must have been someone of high status based on how the siblings praised him.

You arrived outside of the hotel and you observed the scenery around you as you waited for them to greet you. You heard the distant chatter of their voices as they made your way to you, and when you looked up you froze. Trailing behind them was the woman you had longed for your whole life, the woman who left you without a word the day after you hooked up. Her eyes widened momentarily, before leveling her expression. Lyney’s bright voice piped up and he introduced her as their Father and you were infinitely more confused. If she was the Father of the orphanage then the only way that could have happened was if Crucabena had been killed.

You looked to her wishing she’d explain, but all she offered was a curt bow of her head as she introduced herself as Father of the House of Hearth. It was clear to you she recognized you now and had only been acting as if she didn’t before. You were sure your face was giving your confusion away so you tried to reel yourself in before you made things anymore awkward tonight. 

You stayed in step with Lyney as he guided the party to the restaurant of choice, and you tried to keep up with the conversation, but your mind drifted to Arlecchino more often than not. You felt her piercing gaze on the back of your head, and no matter how much you tried to ignore her, you just couldn’t shake her off. 

Finally arriving at the restaurant, you were ushered in by a kind hostess and you were led to a solitary room with a large table in the middle of it. “Welcome in Lady Arlecchino and her guests.” The hostess showed everyone to their seats and brought out menus before leaving everyone to decide their orders in peace. Conversation was beginning to flow a little better now that you had adjusted to her presence. Although you wish she’d stop staring you down from across the table, averting her gaze every time you looked back.

“So, Arlecchino, you’re their Father? Why not mother?” You prodded and the other woman stiffened up at the question. You knew you had hit a nerve, but you had every right to considering what your “mother” had done to you. The siblings must have noticed the tense atmosphere shift because they were sharing glances with each other at the mention of Arlecchino’s title. They didn’t jump in just yet though because Arlecchino answered swiftly. “I have an ill association with the old mother of the orphanage, I’m sure you’ve heard tales. After all, Crucabena was known even outside of the orphanage.” A frown painted your features at the subtle jab being made. You glared at her across the table with a new found hurt building in your chest, and you excused yourself abruptly.

You made your way to the restroom and the dam broke. Sobs racked your body as every emotion you had been harboring since the night started just became so overwhelming. The door creaked slightly signaling someone would be entering shortly and you tried to pull yourself together, but it had been too late. The same woman who had caused your tears made herself known as she cleared her throat. You could tell she felt regretful for letting that slick comment even leave her mouth. Your expulsion from the orphanage was traumatic for her, but even more so for you, and she knew that. She knew, but still made a jab at you because she couldn’t regulate her feelings.

“I…” She started and you cut her off before she could get any further. “You what?” You snapped. “You came in here to fuck with me some more?  Make me feel special and like you remember me, only to rip my heart out again and act like I’m nobody to you?” Your words stung her, but she had no right to feel hurt after what she had done. “No. No, never that. I want to apologize for how I handled this situation.” You could feel the sincerity in her voice, so you decided to hear her out.

“The day Crucabena had you dragged out,  I never had a night of peaceful sleep again. I was tired of how she treated us children and my every night was spent plotting her death.” A gasp left your lips and your eyes widened at her confession. You didn’t say anything quite yet though, urging Arlecchino to continue. “On the night of my 17th birthday I finally went through with my plan and killed her. I killed her for you, in the hopes that one day I would be able to find you again, but when I did meet you I was incredibly intoxicated.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with her lithe, gloved fingers for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I’m ashamed at how I acted, I recognized you almost immediately and just got carried away. I missed you terribly.” By now your tears had almost dried completely, but you were feeling so many things it was ridiculous.

“I just don’t get it. Why take me back to your place, fuck me, and then just leave without explanation. Do you know how used I felt?” You sniffled slightly. “I felt like you recognized me, to then only get my hopes shattered all because you felt ashamed of yourself? Is that it?” You were beginning to get worked up again and before you could say something you really regretted, Arlecchino spoke up again. “I don’t get it either, and I’m sorry. I should apologize for as long as I live for hurting you. I want you to be back in my life, just as you should have been this whole time.” She murmurs before pulling you in for a tight hug. Initially you fought against her, tears streaming down your cheeks again, but eventually you gave in. You just stayed in her embrace for what felt like an eternity, your face pressed against her chest. Your sobs soon subsided into little hiccups and sniffles as she rubbed soothing circles over your back to calm you down.

“I missed you so much, Peruere.” You whisper into her chest. “I missed you too, my sweetheart. I never stopped thinking about you for even one day. Thank you for coming back into my life again.” Her words were sprinkled in between feather light kisses to the top of your head. You nodded gently, it was going to take a while to get used to this again, and you would struggle with understanding why she went about the situation like this, but you couldn’t bear to be apart from her again. “You’re going to have to work to get me back, you know?” You joked with her, maybe it was only partially a joke though. You wanted to be pampered and doted on by her for all the years you missed out on it, and she would happily oblige. She would do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours for the rest of her life. “You know I’d do anything.” Arlecchino mumbles into you. “Now we should probably get back out there, the kids must be wondering what's taking so long.” You giggle softly before wiping the mascara streaks off of your cheeks. “Should we explain to them? Or…” You trail off unsure of how to move forward. You get a hum in confirmation from Arlecchino, and you nod. They would have to find out your history one way or another, so why not tonight? You still looked a bit rough, but they would understand. “After you.” Arlecchino had gestured to the door before opening it or you first. You took a shaky breath before she had grabbed your hand and squeezed it for reassurance that everything would be okay.

You might have been hurt for a long time, and it might take time to recover, but as long as you had your beloved Peruere beside you, things would be alright.

[cultofdixon]

A long road to recovery

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Her screams will forever haunt the archer especially with the visual aid permanently in his mind. But there’s only so much he could do for her • ANGST/SFW • TW: Femur Fracture / Major Injuries / Blood Loss / Mentions of Amputation

Requested by: Anon

In the Apocalypse, you’re going to face some threats that want to make it unsafe for your family.

First it was Shane, now it’s this man who calls himself “The Governor”

No one really encountered him until a ghost of the past decided to make himself present again. But even Merle didn’t know how far the Governor decided to go.

“We’ve got another hostage. 2 actually…more willing to give us answers”

“How are you sure?” Merle questions the Governor who only gave him an annoyed look before two other soldiers took the redneck by the arms detaching his blade. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“What I should’ve done the second that son of bitch yelled your name” and without a second thought, the governor knocked out Merle letting the men take him to what he had planned next…

After he tried to get more information out of the two he captured in the heat of it all…

Daryl and Y/N

While Daryl was chained to one side of the room blindfolded, Y/N was completely aware of their surroundings as she tugged at her own restraints. She saw what he did to Glenn and was afraid the same treatment will happen to Daryl.

“Please. We don’t want any trouble. Just let us go we were only following orders” Whatever needs to be said, Y/N. Without giving too much away.

“Mm. Oh but you did. You didn’t want to give us what we wanted to hear…now you’re just doing the same as them” The Governor knelt to her level grabbing her jaw harshly feeling and watching her resistance. “But this time I know exactly how to get it out of yea” he let go of her face before rising to his feet and snapping at the archer’s direction to let his men know to untie the blindfold resulting in a crazed enraged look from the man. “He’ll give me what I want”

Daryl scoffs knowing he’s not going to say a word, nor is Y/N. But the way the devil-like man smirked in his direction caused all his blood to run cold watching him wind up his fist that instantly landed itself against Y/N’s cheek.

“No! NO!” He shouted tugging against the restraints as every time he managed to stand, he would get knocked back down…continuing to watch every punch land on its target.

Eventually Y/N spat out blood avoiding eye contact toward everyone in the room. She brought her attention toward the Governor watching the anger spill out of him.

“All either of yea have to do, is tell me how fucking many of you there are. Then no more of this” His fists clenched listening to Y/N chuckle weakly hanging her head low as her jaw hurt too much to speak. He quickly grabs a fistful of her hair gripping onto it tight causing the tears to spill from her eyes. “TELL ME OR ILL FUCKING KILL HER”

The look in her eyes tells Daryl not to say a word. But every fiber of his being was screaming against him.

“Over my dead b-body…” He said with hesitation watching his anger spill out as the Governor tosses her to the ground bringing his leg up and harshly bringing it down on her thigh.

The crack caused an unbridled screech to escape her lungs as she now laid on her side not being able to control the pain filled screams just from her own movement caused by the break he had down. Daryl lost it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t anymore.

“I-I-I…There’s not m-many” Daryl sobbed. “Most of us are children and old folk…o-o-or too weak to fight” he screams out his sobs tugging harshly at the chains as Y/N’s screams over powered his. They were strong enough to fight. But he just. He needed something to be a lie.

“Good.” The Governor scoffs before driving his foot into her stomach for extra measure turning to the archer watching him fall apart but not share more. He got what he needed. “Get them up. It’s time”

As the big man makes his way out of the room, Daryl watches two men come in to grab Y/N as he couldn’t believe what he saw. Now his anxiety started to eat at him watching her get taken away and before he could fight…a sack was thrown over his head.

Now he’s lost

But it didn’t take long

For the sack to be removed and for his unrestrained self is standing beside his brother whom he thought was dead in an arena of sorts.

“Let’s get these walkers hungry YEAH?!” The Governor shouts with a huge smile as the cheering grew louder.

The Dixon brothers instantly turned to the sobbing mess that was Y/N and as she was dropped, the walkers were released on their chains. Without a second thought, Merle leaped the moment the walker tripped letting the undead sink its teeth into its metal nub before it got to Y/N. She looked up at him through a tearful gaze thanking him but also wishing she wasn’t in this position in the first place.

________

“Merle you dumb bitch!” Glenn shouted at the eldest Dixon that ran through almost a sea of walkers to get to the building closest to the one the Atlanta group was held up in.

“He’s going to get himself killed” Andrea sighs watching this all unfold.

Merle dodged several walkers and right as he miscalculated how close one got, he felt his whole body get tugged into the nearest building. In a safe yet temporary hiding spot, Merle locked eyes with Y/N. The one his brother’s fancies.

“How the fuck did you sneak out of the clothing store?”

“I’m more useful than you fuckers think and I knew you wouldn’t make it quick enough before curfew” Y/N scoffs punching him in the arm resulting in an enraged expression. “What the fuck was I gonna tell Daryl if you became Walker bait?”

“That I’m one less problem for the pig back at base to deal with”

“Fuck Shane and what he thinks. Just fuck off and thank me for saving your life”

“Hell no! I’ll just save yea as my own form of thanks”

“You know I’ll take that as a thanks right?” Y/N rolls her eyes taking out a flash grenade she found from one of the tanks they scavenged a few nights ago, tossing it across the sea as the second it went off the two left that spot returning to the rest of the group.

________

Once Merle killed the walker that almost got Y/N, a gun was met at his head by one of the other soldiers but he was met with a bullet that came from Maggie.

“LETS GO!” She shouts as Rick joined in the cover fire.

Daryl quickly ran to Y/N grabbing one of her arms to throw over his shoulder as Merle did the same with the other. Both carried her out avoiding the fire the best that they could.

“Steady”

“Don’t move her too much”

“The fuck happened?!”

“Son of a bitch broke her leg!”

Y/N tuned out all of their voices when they loaded her up in the car letting her take up the whole backseat which meant Glenn and Michonne would hold up in the trunk. But that didn’t happen right away.

What she didn’t know because the pain flooded all of her thoughts, Daryl left with Merle because of the whole “blood” spiel. No one can really argue with such, or really want to. They just. Didn’t want a piece of their family to leave.

No one wanted to tell Y/N but she got the idea. She knows Merle enough and knows what he’d done so it wouldn’t be sane of them to welcome him with open arms. She just wished her partner didn’t leave.

“What the hell happened?!” Carol shouts when Rick and Glenn were the ones carrying Y/N in as she still hadn’t controlled her painful outbursts.

“Get her in a bed and Glenn you know where the old pallets are? Take some wood pieces off and you, whatever you name is” Hershel gestured toward the prisoner. “We have duct tape anywhere?!”

It wasn’t the best splint but it would have to do. Hershel duct taped two blanks on other side of Y/N’s right thigh to stabilize the broken femur. A bone you should never break. He’s already told her if worse comes for worse, they would have to take the leg and she had a semi-easier recovery.

But that’s worse case scenario.

Right now Y/N laid uncomfortably, with a minor tremor whenever she tried to do anything else besides lay there in a pool of pain and sweat from the stress of said pain.

“Why’d you save her? From that walker?”

“The fuck you on about?” Merle scoffs. “Y/N? Oh because I have the hots for her” the sarcasm poured out him with those words. Daryl grabbed his brother’s arm harshly pulling his attention to him. “WHAT?! YOU THINK IMMA LET THE ONLY GOOD GODDAMN THING IN YOUR LIFE FUCKING DIE?! Hell! Why the fuck did you even leave with me? They ain’t ever gonna let me in and those Woodbury fucks aren’t gonna either.”

Daryl was left speechless and with that the silence just grew between the brothers until the youngest had about enough of their situation.

“You’re coming with”

“They won’t—-“

“You’ll listen to everythin’ they fucking have yea do. Even if that means being in a cell”

And with that the Dixon brothers returned and Merle was instantly put in the cell that they held Michonne.

Hershel felt the eyes on him as he was sat beside Y/N’s bed after scrounging up a sedative through the few pills the group scavenged from the farm to the prison. He quickly turned to the cell door finding Daryl standing there anxiously as his eyes were glued on her swollen thigh.

“She might lose it if we don’t figure out a way to get the swelling down. Good pain killers can help. Ibuprofen works best”

“Ice?”

“Like we’d manage to find any or hell, make it. The best for that are those ice packs in quick first aids. The ones with an activator that makes it cold.” Hershel checked her pulse out of an anxious habit because he didn’t know how strong the sedative would work on her. But given no tears and screaming, it did wonders.

“Didn’t Carl find all the med shit in this place?”

“Yes. But none of those ice packs. I’m glad nothing is bleeding or we would use the whole supply to cut her open, let the excess blood spill, then wrap and wrap until it stops”

Hearing all that didn’t sit well with Daryl as he had to step out coming face to face with Rick who came to check on Y/N himself.

“You alright?” The man seemed to never worry for himself at times.

“Nah. I won’t be until she is. I gotta go out there”

“Daryl. This Governor guy is on us and will know our scavenge points from what information any of yall gave. We have to take him down before it’s safe to go out”

Things only escalated with the Governor which at one time had them moving Y/N’s body so that they could trap the soldiers in a section to take them out. Merle also gave his life to try and solve the problem for them by killing the guy coming up unsuccessful. But when Daryl found his body, and his belongings, he found most of the med supplies one of the Governor’s trucks had. Including those ice packs.

Now in the rebuilding time, which meant the defeat of the Governor and infusion of the Woodbury folk…Daryl listened to Hershel with everything he instructed when it came to caring for Y/N while she wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. But something she tried to keep to herself was the pain becoming unbearable at night. They slowly started going on runs and developing a flow while making the prison a home, so meds come in very scarce.

She doesn’t have to keep a front just so they don’t run out of meds. They know what she’s dealing with.

Daryl entered the cellblock after taking a night watch the second Y/N fell asleep. But he was met with soft sobs escaping their shared cell. At first he thought someone was walking a fussy Judith but when he entered their cell he heard Y/N cry in a half fetal position hugging onto a pillow. The swelling gone down quite a bit but the pain was still unbearable and the break was going to take some time to heal.

“Sunshine, how bad is it?” Daryl whispers kneeling beside the bed resting his hand on her shoulder while glancing to her leg to make sure she’s trying not to bend it.

“It’s f-fine” Y/N sobbed hiding her face in the pillow so she couldn’t see the annoyed but worried look on Daryl’s face. “I-It’ll pass”

“Hun. Hershel said it’s best to take the pain medicine to help the healing process. This ain’t some addict shit—-“ Sometimes addicts who have surgery, refuse pain meds. To stay clean.

“It’s a rare resource” Y/N pulled her face away from hiding, feeling Daryl’s rough but gentle touch rest on her cheek brushing the tears that fell with his thumb. “I-I…I can’t use it a-all. What it—-“

“Nah. No what ifs. You need it. You ain’t gonna sit here and suffer. We’ll find more. When you’re better you can even help find more”

“Heh…like you’d let me out of the walls” Y/N softly laughs watching a twitch of a smile grace the corner of his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Listen. As much as I wanna protect yea…after all we lost and shit…I don’t want to make yea hate me by keeping you confined longer than you already have”

“I could never hate you, Daryl. You just owe me a ride when I’m fucking okay again” She laughs whole heartedly this time giving Daryl a chance to lean into her pressing his lips against hers for a chaste kiss before getting up to get the pain meds and his canteen.

Daryl helped her sit up so she could take the pill and drink the water without spilling on her, but as Y/N was sat up he snuck his way behind her so that when she laid back down it’d be against him.

His comforting embrace

A long. Four. Months. Later.

The archer was working on his bike to prepare for an incoming run when he heard the familiar whistle coming from his girl. He quickly stood approaching her as Y/N made her way to him with a bit of a limp. You think a break like that will heal straight?

“Making your laps?”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing so for a month and wanted to see what my partner would be doing at this hour” Y/N smiles bringing herself close feeling Daryl’s arms snake around her waist as his eyes checked their surroundings of any bystanders. “Don’t worry. No one is watching”

“Mm. Like I care who sees me kiss my woman”

“Oh? Is that what I’m receiving while I’m here?”

“Oh I don’t have t—-“

“Just kiss me already, Dixon” Y/N smiles grabbing his vest carefully and pulling him down for her to connect their lips enjoying this moment. A moment she felt like she waited forever to have.