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kasagia · 10 months ago

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Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before?

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

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alwaysurvalentine · 1 month ago

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the love bug - st ficlet

Based on a prompt from my @steddiebingo 12 Days of Christmas card: 'blind date'

wc: 854 | cw: none | more info: modern au, pre-relationship, Steve is a teacher (I'm thinking middle school) and Eddie works at a music store

enjoy! 💛

Eddie knows he could’ve saved himself from the chill seeping into his bones by getting dropped off right in front of the restaurant. However, getting dropped off a block away meant he could scope out this mysterious stranger Chrissy’s set him up with. The place they’re meeting has a line of windows that face the street that he’s hoping to use to his advantage. He doesn’t even really know what the guy looks like, but Chrissy said that he’d be there and that he’d have a red rose on the table. Easy to spot.

To say Eddie’s wary is an understatement. He’s really only doing this to get Chrissy off of his back. Ever since she’s been bitten by the love bug she’s made it a personal goal to help all of her friends find love. Now, did her meddling help their friends Nancy and Barb finally get together? Maybe, but that’s besides the point. Both of them having been dancing around each other for as long as Eddie can remember, not so stolen glances sent to each other every time the group got together.

Love and Eddie just don’t mix, and he’s accepted that. A series of terrible exes will do that to you. But Eddie’s okay with being alone, it’s not like he’s ever wanting for company, but asking a hookup for something more than physical is just asking to be ghosted. So it’s just fine with him to keep on working at the Music Warehouse and meeting up with his friends for dinner instead of worrying about who is going to help him raise his rats.

The windows cast a warm light onto the street, ice glittering, and Eddie sees it – a bright red rose sitting next to the prettiest man he’s ever seen. How was he supposed to know that a man named Steve was going to be a modern day Adonis? This is something that Chrissy should’ve warned him about! Now he’s second guessing his maroon button down and black jeans. He would’ve at least done some eyeliner if he’d known, and if things don’t go well he’s going to be talking to Chrissy about what needs to be shared if he goes out with someone. One of those letting him know if he’ll be sitting across from a literal model or just some friend of a friend that works in corporate.

When he steps in, a blast of warm air hits him and he shudders. His cheeks have to be pink from the cold, fingers tingling as he walks over to the table. Steve hasn’t noticed him yet, eyes tracing over the menu instead, and his wire frame glasses just about take Eddie out.

“Uh, Steve?”

At his words, Steve looks up, eyebrow raised in question only for a moment before a soft smile settles on his face.

“You must be Eddie?”

Dinner ends too soon. Eddie could sit here and talk with Steve all night, but the pointed looks from the staff are enough to have him grabbing his jacket.

“Looks like we need to scoot out of here. I think they’re about to close.”

By the sheepish look on Steve’s face he hadn’t noticed the stares. He rushes to grab his own jacket, sliding it on even as he starts towards the door. They don’t even make it to the door before their dishes are cleared from the table. Eddie flashes a quick smile and shrugs when he makes eye contact with their waitress, following Steve out quickly.

“I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Sorry about that.” A light blush covers Steve’s cheeks, eyes turned to the sidewalk.

“I didn’t mind. Guess it is kinda late though, and you’ve got all those papers to grade tomorrow. Wouldn’t want Mr. Harringtonslacking on the job.”

“Oh hush.” Steve gently shoves at Eddie’s shoulder, a cloud escaping his mouth when he laughs. It might only be their first meeting, but Eddie’s already imagining how nice Steve would look in the summer, moles popping out against tan skin. “I really do need to head out. Dinner was nice.” Steve hesitates for a moment, looking like he’s about to step away before reaching into his back pocket. “I’d like to do it again, think you can just add your number here?”

When Eddie looks at the screen it’s to an empty contact, cursor blinking away. The phone buzzes and he gets a glimpse of a text from ‘Birdie’ saying ok Steven I’m so glad you’re having fun but… so he rushes to put in his name and number.

Eddie gets an eyebrow raise from Steve when he passes the phone back, “Oh, ‘Mr. Right’ huh? Very presumptuous of you.”, but the grin on Steve’s face lets Eddie know the risk was worth it. Faintly he hears the phone buzz again and when Steve glances down his eyebrows furrow.

“Oh! I really do need to go, I’m sorry. Have a good night, Eddie!”

And quick as a flash, Steve steps forward and presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

Looks like he’s been bitten by the love bug too.

#valentine writes #steddie #blind date #Chrissy and Eddie are best friends #also just know that Chrissy's 'love bug' is Robin #this is only the beginning of these two being obsessed with each other btw

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nastybuckybarnes · 4 months ago

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Stowaway

Pairing: Ghost X Reader

Summary: You find something fun and want to share it with the skull-face man.

Warnings: Language, allusions to violence, fluff, slow burn

Word Count: 2.4K

A/n: another part of my ghost x mouse thing. if any of you have seen Freeform's Siren, i imagine reader to sound a bit like Ryn when she speaks. if y'all have no idea what im talking about, thats okay too, i still love ya!

~*~

You watch the black vehicle as it rolls to a stop, all but the driver emerging.

This is it. This is your one chance and you cannot fuck it up.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you slowly keep forward, keeping your back to the wall and successfully keeping yourself hidden in the shadows.

The men outside the armoured vehicle move away, toward whatever their target of the day is, and you use that to your advantage.

You crouch down, the darkness of the night your best friend as you slink closer and closer to the vehicle, glass bottle held tightly in your grasp.

Finally, with your back to the bed of the vehicle, you throw the bottle as far as you can, wincing at the sharp shatter.

Instead of dwelling on making a sound, something that you’ve been carefully trained never to do, you climb into the back of the vehicle and quietly bury yourself under duffle bags of supplies as the driver emerges.

You hear the driver get out, listen as his heavy boots lead over to where the bottle broke, and you let out a soft breath.

Safe for now.

You snuggle up beneath the bags, steeling yourself for a long night.

Somehow, even with the velcro, clips, and pins digging into your flesh, you manage to doze off, waking up only when you feel the vehicle jerk to a halt, the brakes squeaking lightly.

“Good work, boys! First round’s on me tonight,” a muffled voice says.

You tense up as the tailgate gets dropped, bags being lifted from you one by one.

Finally, there’s a pause.

“Uh, Captain?”

You’ve been spotted, you know that, and you knew it would happen. It doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

You’ve seen firsthand what these men can do. You only hope the one you’re familiar with will be around.

“What’s going on, MacTavish?”

Another duffle gets lifted from you and you squint against the harsh light, blinking furiously but making no other move to get up lest you startle one of them.

“What’s this?” The older man asks, his face slowly coming into view.

“Looks like we’ve got a stowaway,” the Scottish one says.

You still make no movements, staying perfectly still as they toss the other bags off of you.

One of them then grabs you by the arm and hauls you to your feet, making you stumble the slightest bit.

“Gimme your hands.”

You don’t fight them as they snap cool metal cuffs around your wrists. Nor do you fight them when they force you to your knees on the hard concrete floor.

Two of them stand farther back with their hands on their guns, the driver and the Scot, and the older man, the Captain, stands tall in front of you.

"Now, why were you hidin' out in the back of our truck, hmm? What're you doin' here? What are you hoping to find?"

You look at each man carefully, frowning when none of their eyes match the ones in your memory.

"Ghost," you finally say.

Soap and Price exchange glances before the older man leans forward, crouching down to be at eye level with you.

"Come again?"

You huff out a frustrated breath then point toward his breast pocket where a pen and a pad of paper lie.

He glances down at it and then, after a moment of careful consideration, slides the items across the floor to you.

You’re quick to scribble something down as neatly as you can with your hands bound, sliding the objects back over to him once you've finished.

There, on the paper, lies the exact same skull that has been strewn on walls and windows, leading them to hostages and intel.

"Ghost. Or no talk."

The men get tense, the two in the back looking at their Captain, waiting for his next move.

Price cocks his head to the side and gives it a shake.

“Listen, sweetheart. You seem nice enough, yeah? Let me tell you somethin’,” he leans closer, dropping his voice to a whisper.

“You��re on my base. You don’t get to call the shots around here. If you wanna sweat it out, fine. I’ll go grab a drink and a nice hot shower, and then when I get back we’ll see if you feel like talking. And don’t worry about being alone - Gaz over there will be keepin’ a close eye on you. Got it?”

His threat hangs in the air for a long while, but all you do is press your lips together and shift back off your knees to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Swallowing his irritation, Price straightens up and leaves the room, Soap hot on his heels.

“Where’re you goin’?” Soap asks when they’re out of the parkade.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re gonna go get the Lieutenant.”

With a nod of his head, Soap is jogging toward Ghost’s quarters.

It takes him no more than five minutes to return, and with him is the big burly man you asked for.

“Better have a damn good reason for gettin’ me up at this hour,” he grumbles, black balaclava covering his face.

He’s dressed in his tac pants and a black t-shirt, thick arms on full display.

Price only nods toward the window he’s staring through, watching you as you look around the garage.

“What’s she doin’ here?” Ghost asks, brows drawing together.

Price chuckles dryly, “was hoping you could tell me. She snuck into the back of the truck unnoticed and stowed away all the way back to base. She’s been… agreeable for the most part. But she won’t talk.”

He’s hardly surprised.

“Drew this and said ‘Ghost or no talk’. Accent’s not from here.” Price turns and looks up at the lieutenant, handing him the picture you drew. “Where’d you find this one?”

Giving his head a shake, Ghost huffs a sigh and pushes into the garage, feet silent as he makes his way over to you.

“Whatt’re you doing here, mouse?” He asks, his voice echoing through the space.

You snap your gaze to his, eyes lighting up the tiniest bit.

Soap walks in after him, hand on his gun.

You shift onto your hip when he’s in front of you, reaching to grab something from your pants but freezing when the other men in the room act.

Gaz and Soap each draw their guns, aiming them at your chest.

"Hands where we can see 'em," Soap warns harshly.

"Easy boys. She's not stupid," Ghost says with a chuckle.

He gives you a nod of encouragement, watching as you move purposefully slowly.

You grab a few items from the waistband of your jeans, sliding the first across the floor to Ghost.

He picks up the small folder, brows drawing together as he briefly wonders how you fit it in there, but those thoughts vanish when he flips it open.

It's full of highly classified documents. Documents that they've been trying to get their hands on for months.

"Where did you get this?" He asks quietly.

You glance at the other two men in the room then back over to him, pressing your lips together once more.

He sighs and glances over his shoulder, holding the folder out to the two men.

"Take this and go get us a tea, yeah?"

They obey without another word, taking the folder and exiting the parkade.

"Where'd you get that folder?" He asks again, crouching down to be at your level and uncuffing your wrists carefully.

"City centre... big..." You frown, searching for the right word, but Ghost knows exactly what you're talking about.

"Warehouse?" He asks.

You nod while rubbing your wrists, happy that he understands.

"If I bring you to a map, can you show me where you were?"

You nod again, pushing onto your knees as he rises to his feet. He helps you up then leads you to the door.

Price, Gaz, and Soap are right outside the door, scanning over the documents within the folder.

"Where are you bringing her?" Price asks, even more intrigued than he was before.

"A map," is all Ghost says.

The three other men fall into a step behind you two, and you try to stay as close to Ghost as you possibly can.

He makes it hard, with his large strides, but you stay all but glued to his side.

He stops suddenly, and you nearly crash into his back, being careful to keep your balance as he turns to a door.

You try to look around him as he unlocks it, but his frame is too broad.

The lock beeps twice then clicks, and then he’s holding the door open for you and motioning for you to head inside.

You do so carefully, eyeing the dark room and shuddering as memories creep into your mind. Memories of a dark cold room with nothing but a leaky pipe.

This isn’t that room. And you’re not alone.

The men enter behind you and then a dim light is flicked on, illuminating what looks to be a board room.

“Here, show me exactly where you found this,” Ghost says, walking over to a map on the wall.

You follow him and inspect it carefully, tracing your finger over a few familiar streets before stopping near the heart of the city.

You tap the spot twice for good measure and look up at him, waiting for his response.

He says nothing, but his eyes are filled with questions.

“How’s a little thing like you get in without setting off alarms?” Soap asks curiously.

You don’t respond, instead you dig in your pants pocket until you find the other souvenir you took.

“For Ghost,” you whisper, holding the USB stick out to him.

He takes it carefully, then tosses it over to Soap.

“Check this. On a secure laptop this time. Don’t need a repeat of-“

“Secure laptop, got it Lt,” the Scot interrupts, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Do you know who you stole from?” Ghost asks, capturing your attention once more.

You frown at his word choice.

“I don’t steal. They leave it. It’s mine.”

Price chuckles, “street rats and their squatters rights, hmm?”

You glare at the man with the moustache.

“Not rat,” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest.

Ghost chuckles and gives you a gentle pat on the head.

“No, rats are vermin. Pests. You’re a harmless little mouse, arentcha?”

You cock your head to the side, looking between him and the other man carefully, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“Once Johnny’s done with that stick we’ll reconvene. In the meantime, bring this one back to her den. Can’t have her roaming around,” Price says, rubbing his forehead.

Ghost gives him a sharp nod.

“Say bye, mouse. Time to go home.” He steps toward the door, holding it open for you.

You follow him, pausing in the doorway and turning to Price and Gaz.

“Bye-bye.” You wave your farewell and the two men exchange glances before each giving you a wave of their own.

Ghost leads you silently through the halls and out of the base, opting to walk rather than drive. S’not far anyway. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to spend as much time with you as possible.

Even though you walk in silence, it feels good to be in his presence. You feel safe.

Finally, as you approach the city, he speaks.

“So you do speak English, cheeky fuck.”

You glance up at him and give your head a small shake.

“Not… not good… not lots.”

He hums, eyes darting around checking for threats.

“S’good.”

You say nothing, only continue walking silently by his side.

He breaks the silence once again, surprising the both of you.

“Why do you help us? Why put yourself at risk for us and our cause?”

You furrow your brows, not understanding the question.

“What does this mean?” You ask.

He chuckles and glances over at you.

“Why help me?”

“Help Ghost.”

“Yes, but why?”

“To help.” You stop walking and grab his hand, giving it a firm squeeze, then put your other hand against his chest.

You stare at your hand, how small it is on the broad expanse of his gear-covered chest, then flutter your gaze up toward his eyes.

“Good man,” you whisper, pressing your fingers harder into his chest.

He swears, through all the layers, he can feel the warmth of your skin.

His upper and lower lashes kiss for a moment before he inhales deeply and chuckles. His gaze softens and he shakes his head, giving your hand a squeeze.

“You must be confused, little one. I’m a lotta things but a good man ain’t one of ‘em.”

You glare up at him and yank on his hand. Though you’re not nearly strong enough to force him to move, he takes a step closer, so close that your bodies are nearly pressed against each other.

“Not confused. Not wrong. Ghost… good man… in here.” You slide your hand up to rest over where you imagine his heart is, your own skipping a beat when he covers your hand with his.

“You’re not wrong? No, never,” he muses, a grin pulling at his lips beneath his mask.

You nod, happy that the two of you are in agreement.

Slowly, you look up at him through your lashes.

The intensity of your gaze has sweat tickling his palms and for a very brief moment he wishes his mask wasn’t in the way.

A soft sigh like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings leaves your parted lips, and then you’re taking a step away from him and toward the dark shadows of the city.

“I go now. Bye-bye, Ghost.”

“This is where I leave you?”

You nod your agreement, taking another step away from him.

“You’ll be safe, mouse, yeah?”

You grin at him and pull out the skull picture you snagged from his pocket, showing it to him proudly.

“With Ghost… always safe.”

A soft smile tugs at his lips and he nods, “always safe with me.”

You give him a small wave then turn around and all but disappear into the darkness, much like you always do.

He stands there for a long while, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind but the one that sticks out like a sore thumb is

Stay.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x reader slow burn #ghost x reader fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #cod fanfic #cod mw fanfic #john price #john soap mactavish

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gaybirdnerd · 7 months ago

Text

Stealth in All Forms

Ghost is a stealthy man.

He can blend into the shadows quickly, and use them to his advantage to be anywhere he wants to be. He's quick and silent.

This is the most known fact about him.

What isn't known is that he can use his stealth in more ways than just blending in with others or the shadows.

What no one sees, is that on leave, Ghost will wear weird outfits and stand out as much as possible, simply because when someone looks and acts like they don't belong there, like they're from another planet, like they're a tourist, they get ignored. Looked over. They blend in by standing out.

Soap finds this out the hard way.

The first time Johnny goes home with Simon, he sees a side of his partner he never would have put near his vision of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

They get ready to go shopping for groceries, having arrived at the Manchester flat late last night and finding it devoid of anything due to his long absence from the place.

While getting ready, and waiting for Simon to get ready in his usual black-on-black with a balaclava, Johnny wanders around the home. Finding comfy afghan throws on the couch and armchair, red blackout curtains on every large window and sliding glass door, and even a funky tie-dye shower curtain in the bathroom with a matching bathmat. Ok, so his partner likes some color outside of his job, noted.

What he does not expect is for his boyfriend to come out of the room with a black baseball cap with a cartoon ghost on it, a tight red Henley t-shirt, faded blue bootcut jeans, the ugliest pair of pink Crocs he thinks he's ever seen, and no facemask in sight.

While he takes the time to catch his breath after laughing so hard in surprise that his knees nearly give out, Simon grabs his wallet, keys, and a backpack filled with produce bags.

With the glare he receives right as he's about to comment, Johnny wisely shuts up and simply kisses Simon on the nose as they exit the flat.

They walk hand-in-hand for a few blocks, no words coming to mind as they take in the cool weather and quiet within their own little bubble of space.

This bubble pops when they hear a woman yelling at someone to let her go, she didn't do anything wrong.

Simon's steps become rushed as they head towards the noise, Johnny following in his wake as they round the corner to see two police leering at a woman in front of a small cafe, one holding her right arm with one hand and a half-full cup of coffee in the other, puddle near his feet and splashes on the woman's shoes.

Without warning, Simon hands Johnny the backpack, grunts "Watch this," and goes over to the confrontation in quick strides, leaving his very confused partner behind.

On the way, he grabs a cup of coffee from another patron, who doesn't notice due to watching the confrontation behind their table.

Walking up to the trio, Simon gets out his phone and pretends to speak into it in a heavy American accent, one that would blend in with a fraternity party, voice higher pitched than he would normally speak in.

When he gets there, he bumps into the cop not holding the woman, spilling the hot coffee all over his neck and back, splashing a little onto the other cop during the "accident."

As he profusely apologizes and stutters his way through an attempt at an explanation, he puts his phone in his back pocket, spills more coffee on the other cop who had let go of the woman, pretends to try to wipe it off both of them only to spill more and hand the now empty cup to the woman.

As he tries to "wipe off" the first cop he spilled coffee on, he sticks his foot out to trip the other one as he takes a step forward to stop the havoc, ending in him going to "help" him up, only to accidentally "bump" both of their heads into a nearby stair railing leading to the raised coffee shop.

By this point he's put himself between the cops and the woman, hiding her with his height as he apologizes profusely and looks to be on the verge of tears, pouting as the cops call him a blundering fool and tell him to leave them alone "[they] don't need help."

As the cops leave, complaining about how the cafe didn't get their order right and then suddenly they're drenched in coffee, Johnny walks up to Simon in awe and the woman starts asking if he's ok after the bump on his head.

As she asks this, Johnny starts laughing incredulously. At the weird look he gets from her, he just gestures to Simon.

"He didn't get a drop of coffee on him, is all, I doubt he actually hit his head." This is supported by Simon grinning slightly and looking away with a nod.

At the dumbstruck look on the woman's face, Simon decides to get out of there as soon as possible, handing her money to replace the coffee he took from the other person, apologizes to that patron, and grabs Johnny's arm to drag him to the grocery store.

One quick shopping trip later, Johnny demands an explanation for what that was and gets told that stealth comes in all sorts of forms.

Gaz doesn't believe him when he recounts the story back on base 3 weeks later. Price just looks resigned.

Here you go @spottlessspectre

Hope you like it lmao.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty ghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #soapghost #call of duty #john price #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty price #snippet #yes i did base this scene off of tasm where peter bumbles security for gwen #birdnerd ideas

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binniesbooks · 7 months ago

Note

hi my fayebae, i just read ‘you don’t want him to know, do you’ and i’m🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️absolutely in love with it ahhh, feeding my brain and oh god i sudd had a thought…

his fingers… please

soobin x reader??? let’s just say that in this reality, soobin is able to play the piano beautifully. With his long fingers giving him the advantage of reaching the many keys he needs to, sometimes your mind wonders of how those long fingers would feel inside you…

the way he would play with your cunt… the way he would make sure youre stretched out and then finger fucks you…purposely bringing out his fingers from you. Sucking of your cum from his fingers, making you imagine how his tongue would feel against your clit.which of course then leads to freaky freaky heheh

ahhh i fr had this thought i hope u like it🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

• MELODIES OF TEMPTATION

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 3.4k

pairings musictutor!Soobin x fem!reader

warnings oral sex, fingering, making out, nipple pinching (dream)

faye's note TMI: I was summoned to hell for the goddamn thesis, that's why I uploaded this late. Wth. Fuck school.

Hope you still enjoy this tho hehe, especially to my Beomgyu's kitten, I'm sorry for uploading so late, omg I hate myself 😭 anyway, I love your asks, really. Kith kith 💋

The soft clinks of the keys of the piano resonated inside the confinement of an empty room, long slender fingers dancing gracefully across the keys. Soft hums come from a comforting voice. The cold windy breeze blows at the open windows flowing through the guy's long fringe as his eyes flutter close feeling the notes hit his ears quietly. His movements came to a halt, head snapping towards the door --soft knocks waking him from his wandering thoughts.

'Hi, are you, perhaps, Choi Soobin?" You quietly asked, clutching on the straps of your crossbody bag.

"Uh, yeah?" he hesitated out of confusion, "May I help you?" -- "Oh, where are my manners, come in." he stood up from the piano as he walked toward the small table on the corner.

You walked slowly, observing the naked room, almost doubting if you really did come to the right place. "Please take a seat," Soobin said as he offered you a glass of water.

"So uh, my mother, found out about these some piano class thing? And, forced me to take it?"

"Is that so? Well, I have no students this session. it's been a while actually, so I'm afraid I can't make classes as of now." He answered.

You wiped your palms on your jeans, "Uhm, is there, like, nothing we can do about it then?"

"The whole lesson fee is actually divided over students. It's just that I can't let you pay the whole price. It's too expensive, given that... you still look like a student." He explained observing your overall figure that totally gives off a student vibe.

"I can pay for the whole price. Just... just let me take the lesson," you pleaded, hands clasped in front of you, "I just can't do anything about it. My mother is expecting me to play the piano in 3 months. I'm supposed to play at my brother's wedding." You rolled your eyes at the request your mother asked you. It just didn't make sense. Why ask you to learn the piano when they could just hire a whole band if they wanted to?

"I see." he meekly answered, nodding slowly. "Then I think we can do something about it." He stood up and walked towards the small cabinet just near the table.

"You can fill up this form, for legal purposes. And we can proceed on talking about your schedule." He handed you a folder. "Do you want to pay it whole or do you want to pay it every session?" He asked as he watched you fill up the form. "I'll pay during every session." You smiled at him and continued answering the necessary form.

You slide back the form towards him, "Y/n Y/s/n, 22." he muttered under his breath before closing the folder. "When are you free?" He asked as he pulled out his phone. "I am free on weekdays afternoon, and weekends the whole day."

"Should we do it on weekends?" he asked, checking his calendar. "We will have 24 sessions in total," he added.

"I'll take it. Weekends, I mean." You agreed.

"Is 5-8 in the evening okay with you?" His head tilted to the side, and you simply nodded.

Soobin stood up, "Okay then, come back this Saturday. we'll start at five." You stoop up after him taking his hand to shake it. As you were about to leave, you turned around once again, "I don't have to pay any deposit?" He chuckled as he answered with a dimpled smile, "No deposits."

...

You gasped as you looked at your wristwatch, what were you doing all this time? It was already four in the afternoon. You fumbled to fix your things as you quickly got up.

"Something wrong?" One of your friends asked, "We still have a movie to watch." "Go ahead, I have an appointment this afternoon, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you guys on Monday!" You scurried out of the cafe only to go back again to order drinks.

"Two iced americanos, to go."

You knocked at the door twice before pushing it open. He was playing the piano again. he has a huge frame, you thought to yourself. His broad shoulders complement his tall figure, despite the fact that he has a big body build, Soobin has a small waist, emphasized with how his white shirt was tucked in his pants.

You walk towards the small couch and place the drinks on the table. You close your eyes as you listen to his soothing voice. He quietly sings with the melody he is playing. When he was done, you cleared your throat to let him know you were already there.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I did not notice you." he shyly walks over to the couch to talk to you. You offered him the drink as he expressed a small "thank you."

"You have a great voice." You complimented him. A flush crept up on his face, to be honest, he's not used to being complimented.

"Shall we get started? I'm glad to walk you through your music journey." His dimples showed up nicely. They're cute, it makes you want to poke them but it doesn't make you seem professional.

The session ended up well. Besides, Soobin did not have to start from the very beginning, since you already know some of the basics.

The following sessions wrapped up well too. According to Soobin, you are a fast learner. You pick up everything he says quickly. Well, aside from Soobin having longer fingers, it was difficult for you to press keys that were far apart. Other than that you didn't have any problem.

"Can I just cut my fingers and have yours instead?" You were growing frustrated, you were not able to press the right key, making a disturbing sound instead of a good melody. You always end up twisting and wrenching your hand when trying to hit the notes.

"I quit!" You exclaimed only for Soobin to chuckle at your complaints. "You can do it, you are a fast learner," Soobin commented, his arms crossed on his chest. "I am, but the keys make me want to kill myself." You blurted. "It's easy, look." Soobin gently placed his finger on the keys, easily pressing down each note. "You have long fingers, I don't." You pouted. "Not my fault I have longer fingers than you." He answered while laughing only to make you pout again.

"Let's end here, come back tomorrow, you should rest for now, it's getting late." Soobin closed the windows of the room.

"Where do you live? Shall we go out together?" You asked.

"Call," he replied with a dimply smile.

You two ended up dropping by at a convenience store to grab a snack. You found out that you go back by the same way, so you thought might as well take the same bus later.

"I thought you were much older than me." You chimed when you found out he's just one year older than you. "Shall we talk casually, then?" He asks as he sips on the hot chocolate he bought. "If you don't mind." You nodded giddily.

Soobin saw how you shivered at the chilly breeze. "Wear my jacket, you've been shivering since earlier." He offered, taking off his jacket to hand it to you. "I forgot mine." You sheepishly answered as you wrapped his jacket around your body.

"Let's go. You might freeze to death if we stay here any longer." Soobin laughed quietly, picking up the trash on the table as he chucked it into the nearest trash can.

You took the same bus that night. He even bid you goodbye and breathed a soft "Take care, see you next week" before you got off.

Soobin is a shy guy. But he's gentle and caring. He's also talented, not to mention his face card did not decline.

That same night when you got home, you did not know what had gotten into you. You did not know the reason why you let your senses engulf the perfume on his jacket, nor when you tried to close your eyes only to vividly imagine how your night went on. You even quietly prayed and hoped each day that week came fast. Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. You grew nervous each day, the anticipation made you bounce your legs in class. It got you checking and re-checking the date.

Maybe the heavens above heard your silent pleas. Because the weekend arrived so quickly. You were so used to wearing just pants and shirts whenever you went to the music tutoring. However, this time, you find yourself fumbling through your dresses as you look for clothes you can wear that gaev off the "I dressed up well for you but I'm not gonna make it obvious" vibe.

You stood in front of the mirror, wearing a skirt and a knitted long sleeve. You look silly, but your heart is about to burst out from the giddiness you were feeling. It's not that you were gonna meet up with a date or something, but, maybe, you like him. Maybe you like Soobin a little bit. Your sessions were more than halfway done, with just 10 sessions remaining.

However, when you stepped inside, there was no Soobin to be found. Nor his things to be seen. The windows were open, though.

You were clutching onto his jacket he had lent you as you scan the room once again, still not used to the naked ass room he's holding the lesson in. However, a bigger couch caught your attention, it looks new. You sat on the couch and watched the clock ticking slowly. You placed his jacket on the couch, as you tried to make it puffy to serve as a makeshift pillow. It's still early anyway, taking a nap won't hurt, besides, he's still not here.

Soobin stepped inside the room, his hair a bit messy as if he just got up from a nap, or a fight, or whatever it was. His words are slurred. Was he drunk? "Hey, are you alright?" You asked as you stood up and walked closer to his tall frame still standing at the door. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands fumbled over your body as he pressed your back against the wall.

"H-hey.. S-soobin.. ah.." You tried to push him away but to no avail, he's much larger and stronger than you. His tongue grazed your neck as he sucked lightly as if he wanted to leave a mark. His slender fingers danced across your waist, slipping underneath your long sleeve. He lightly pinched your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from you. His hand travels back to your waist down to your thighs as he lifts your skirt. Your blood ran south, heat pooling on your slit. You can't help but whimper at his touch, his fingers gently rubbing your clothed pussy. He pushed your underwear to the side to slide his fingers in--

"Hey, hey y/n, are you okay?" His face was painted with worry as he tapped your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes snapped open. "You were whining in your sleep, is everything fine?" He asked grabbing a glass of water. Your face turned red. You can't believe you were dreaming about him, and a sexual dream at that. You chugged down the whole glass of water, you couldn't look him in the eyes, what was that dream all about? Oh god.

"I'm sorry, I was late, something came up and I needed to take care of it, that's why I uh, wasn't here." He apologized, his face still painted with worry.

"N-no it's fine. I mean, I early.. I'm got.. I was... I got here earlier t-than our scheduled time." You cannot even form your words straight. He let out a laugh, as he look at you once again. "You got me worried from all that whining." He sighed, "I thought you were having a bad dream." You scratch the back of your nape as you play with the glass in your hand, you can't tell him about your weird dream, it's not something to spill.

"Shall we start? I'll play a song first, then you'll play once I'm done and apply what you have learnt." He instructed as he strides towards the piano.

Your eyes were fixated on how his fingers danced gracefully on the keys. His beautiful fingers were able to reach the notes you were unable to do. Choi Soobin was actually known for his exceptional piano skills even when he was still at a young age. To most, him playing melodies effortlessly could enrapture the audience, but to you, his fingers stirred thoughts that went far beyond music. You had always thought how his fingers were so pretty although he was a man. It was as though he gave them extra care. The thought even caused you to dream about him. Not to mention you were dreaming about him inside his tutor room.

He had finished playing long ago, but you were still staring at his fingers, still in a daze. His body was already turned to you, examining your eyes and what they were staring at. An enigmatic smile played on his lips, "Care to tell what you are thinking about?" He asked, voice low and inviting. "W-what?" Your eyes snapped back at him. "What's on your mind, y/n." He chuckled when you avoided his gaze, he stood up, "Care to tell?" His head was tilted to the side once again. "Nothing... I.. I just think you're really good at playing the piano.. and that your fingers are p-pretty," you stuttered.

Soobin walks back to the couch where you were sitting, he draws his face near to yours as you back down, leaning your head on the backrest of the couch. "Is that all you're thinking about?" You felt your heart thump faster and harder as you nodded frantically, your palms sweaty. "I don't think so," he leans closer, one wrong move and you'll get your lips crashed with his, "I heard you call my name in your sleep -- let me correct myself, you were actually moaning my name." His arms were on both sides of your head, you're trapped on the couch.

"I'm not the type to let myself go in this kind of situation, but," he stopped as he twirled the end of your hair on his fingers, "You excite me. I'm actually surprised." He chuckled. "S-soobin, I... I didn't mean t--" "Mhm, you didn't baby, you didn't." He nods as he presses his thumb on your glossy lips. You gripped his jacket on your lap with nowhere to ground yourself. Your eyes flutter close at the skin contact. "See? You really didn't." He whispered before closing the gap between the two of you.

You did not know what happened, or what had gotten unto him, but there's one thing you were sure of. Your music tutor is making out with you.

"My, my... You were thinking about what else my fingers can do, am I right?" He remarked as he pulled away a bit. You bit your lips as you nodded lightly. "Naughty girl." He smirked.

His fingers danced across your face, touching your cheeks as he kissed you. You can't help but hold onto his arms.

"Stand up," he commanded as he pulled away. He gently drags you and makes you sit on the soft cushion chair in front of the piano. "Show me what you have learned." He ordered as he kneeled in front of you. "You look pretty by the way," he added.

You slowly pressed on the keys of the piano with an unstable rhythm and a pounding heart. "Spread your legs, I'll show you something," he chuckled at the thought. You clenched your hand as you slowly spread your legs in front of him. "Don't stop playing until I say so," he instructed as he pushed your underwear to the side.

You continued playing on the piano with a more uneven tone and rhythm as you trembled under his touch. His fingers danced gracefully on your pussy, slightly grazing your clit, making you shiver.

He bunches up your skirt to your waist and pulls your underwear all the way for easier access. "Tell me once again that you didn't mean what you were doing earlier," a playful smirk was plastered on his face as he looked up at you. "I... I didn't m-mean to m-moan your n-name..." You whispered with a shaky voice. "Is that right?" He asked, his finger nudging your clit. You nodded as you felt your body shrink at his melting gaze.

"Your body says otherwise, lovely." He chimed as his middle finger slides easily inside you making you gasp. "Continue playing, I'm grading you." He reminded.

You don't even know if the notes you're playing were making sense or if it's the right key, you just kept on pressing the keys with trembling hands as you felt Soobin's finger scissoring your pussy. "You're so wet that all I can hear is the squelching sound, your notes are being drowned," he commented, pressing on your sweet spots.

"S-soobin, I can't a-anymore..." Your fingers stopped, as you shook your head. "I'm grading you y/n. It's either you pass, or I'm going to refer you to another tutor." He warned. "B-but--" "No buts, pretty. Continue."

You did not know where your mind flew to. All you can think about is how his pretty fingers are stretching you out and reaching the spots your own fingers weren't able to reach. "I'm g-gonna cum..." Your voice all trembling and shaking as much as your legs do.

"So soon?" Soobin started to move a bit faster, the sound your pussy was making was so lewd and dirty. You're toes curled, your hand gripped on his shoulder as you try to stop yourself from cumming. Soobin smirked, you're so lovely to look at. "Hmm, pretty." He chuckled as he stared at you.

"P-please Soobin, I'm gonna cum..." You pleaded. He twisted his fingers, scissored and pushed it more inside your gummy walls, you're too weak to hold back. You came on his fingers as you shuddered with his finger still fucking inside you. You were whining and squirming, but he's too strong for your weakened body.

He pulled his fingers out. He stares at his sticky and slicked-covered fingers and looks at you. He saw how the flush crept over your cheeks. "We will continue our sessions, you still have a lot to learn." His gaze at you is unwavering, waiting for you to look back at him. And when you did, his fingers disappeared in his own mouth.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet." He moaned, cleaning his own fingers covered with your cum. His low voice gives you a shiver down your spine. He continued on licking his fingers, eyes locked on yours. You lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled away. "I'm still not done, hold your skirt up." As a good student, you gladly obliged, clutching on your skirt.

He placed one of your thighs on his shoulder as he dives into your pussy. Lapping every essence dripping down. You squirmed and gripped on his hair. His tongue poking on your cunt. "S-soobin ahh, shit." You've lost it. Your tutor is eating you out, the guy you have a little crush on.

He keeps on humming in your pussy, the vibration adds to the tingly sensation you are feeling. You were in ecstasy.

"N-no more... Hng.." he did not stop. No way he's gonna stop. Not when Soobin is already hard and on the verge of cumming just by eating you out. But he holds back. "Shit!" Soobin felt you clench on his tongue, riding your other high. Your legs spasmed while he was cleaning you with his tongue, scraping every drop of your cum. It's something he can't waste.

He looks up at you, wiping his glistening mouth and nose with the back of his hand.

"Lay on the couch." He bosses, as he proceeded to lock the door. "Maybe buying this bigger couch has a purpose. Too bad it'll get soiled today, I just bought it yesterday." He smiled as he unzipped his pants, "Bend over. You're the one to grade me this time. Which is the best? My finger, my tongue, or my cock."

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #soobin's books #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin x you #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x you #choi soobin smut #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #choi soobin imagines #choi soobin scenarios #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

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fawnsflowerbed · 7 months ago

Text

A/N: MY FIRST COMMISSION AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FLOPS ON THE FLOOR AND ROLLS BACK AND FORTH!!!!!!!

This was a request from my lovely sunshine anon, following the shenanigans of Vendetta Leon with his hybrid puppy girl!!! Please enjoy <3

Warnings/content: 2nd person (you/yours), fem pup hybrid reader, Vendetta Leon is referred to as daddy! Some mention of strict leon but he can’t stay mad at u, lots and lots of fluff!!! Headcanons!!!

Word count: 2,250 approx.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

What does he do when she has zoomies at night like the lights are all off and he's in bed and she won't stop running around LMFAO

Zoomies in the Kennedy household are either a joy or a NIGHTMARE. It truly depends on how Leon’s feeling.

Often he finds it adorable. After a long day of work, climbing into bed after shutting the house down for the night, he hears a THUD followed by several thump thump thump thumps of you rushing off from wherever you were sleeping, most likely your bed in your playpen, but sometimes right in front of the fireplace in winter is too tempting. Your feet - or rather paws, as he jokingly calls them to see you puff, huff, and giggle at him - scurrying around the house, sliding across wooden floorboards, following the headlights of passing cars when the beams rush across the walls through the windows. Running back and forth between the rooms to squish your face up against the glass at squirrels or birds, whining quietly because you know you have to be a good girl and stay quiet but that crow is staring you down and you WANT to bark at it! A yip or two might, just might, slip past your lips. He can’t help but roll his eyes with a tired smile on his face, listening to you try so very hard to not disturb his slumber.

Soon enough you hear a short, brief whistle, ears perked up at the sound. It makes your feet pad from side to side, whimpering at the concept of him being awake - both out of worry and excitement. You’re quick to zoom your way over to his room, peeking your head over the edge of the bed with a quick wagging tail.

Leon’s voice is warm and rasped as he ruffles your hair, a gravelly chuckle rumbling from his throat. “Got some leftover energy there, sweetheart?” You nuzzle right up into the touch, loving the affection as always. “Gonna need to buy melatonin at this rate, pup. Either for you or for me.”

On the off days where he’s tired or grumpy you get a bit of a glare, but he just can’t stay stern with you no matter how hard work has been on him. He spoils you, he knows he does. But how could he be strict on you when you stare at him so apologetically with those big puppy dog eyes? Doing little paces back and forth around his bed to work off the extra zoom in your bones, he sighs and pats the bed for you to curl up next to him with a happily tapping tail thump thump thumping against the bedsheets.

What would he do if she played too rough with him and bit or clawed too hard? (She'd feel bad ofc)

Wuh oh! Tug-of-war and fetch are two high things on Leon’s more favoured games to play with you. He gets a bit of a workout, whilst making sure you get plenty of exercise so you’re nice and tuckered out for bed. Plus listening to you growl and giggle, shaking your head back and forth excitedly. You just love him, you love spending time with him, yapping happily and sprinting after the ball to plop at his feet with a big grin. Throw it again, Leon. Throw it again, and again, and again for the next 20 minutes, Leon.

But you’re still a puppy hybrid after all! So sometimes you get too ahead of yourself, and you grab at his hand too hard with your canines when he’s trying to take the ball off of you to throw it, or you reach out your hands and scratch a bit too roughly at his forearms to get an advantage in tug-of-war.

He’s always quick to pull away with a hiss or a quick sound of pain, giving his hand a shake out, rubbing over the scratched skin. He reacts fast so you have time to realise what’s happened, just to be sure no other injuries occur. And it’s like a switch flicks in your little dog brain. Immediately you’re climbing between his legs with big sad eyes, whining and whimpering out apologies and pawing gently at him, your ears pressed to your hair sadly. You hurt him! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t supposed to happen, you were playing!

Usually it’s not too bad, nothing a bandaid and a good clean won’t fix. Often it works as a good reminder for him to cut your nails or give you a few extra bones and toys to gnaw on, but that broken look on your face makes his heart hurt every time. Especially if you start crying over it if it’s pretty bad. After ensuring it’s not the end of the world he’s always running his hand over your floppy ears, shushing you as you hiccup out sorry over and over. He knows you don’t mean to hurt him, you’re a good girl.

“No no no, hey, it’s alright darlin’, no tears. Just means you got strong teeth, that’s a good thing. Means you’re taking care of them. Let’s save it for the ball next time though, ‘kay? Teeth don’t belong in daddy.”

“You’re still my good girl, puppy. Just go easy on me, daddy’s not exactly getting any younger here.”

How would he go about things if she was more quiet than normal/sad?

That would be odd for him. He’s gotten so used to you being this bright, bubbly thing full of life and laughter. Pawing at the door and yapping happily at him coming back home, spinning in little circles with a whipping fluffy tail. Back when he first got you it threw him off guard, how smiley you were, but he grew to love it dearly.

But today you’re… off. You look up at him from where you’re flopped on the couch, tail tapping softly, as you give him a small smile. And he has to admit, it aches a little. Watching you pace the house rather than sprint around it, how you stare at your food rather than truly digging in and chowing down, embracing your dog-hybrid side. It’s especially clear with how much you sleep. Napping around the house wherever you can, your posture a mess, eyes droopy with bags under them. That’s when he realises something’s up.

He tries to initiate from time to time, rolling a ball in your direction. “You wanna play ball, baby? Wanna fetch?” Nothing. Won’t even run at the sound of the treat bag shaking.

It’s like a sledgehammer to the heart seeing you dejected. No night zoomies, you rarely join him for cuddles in bed, gnaw sluggishly on your chew-toys and you simply stare out the window with slumped ears. He just can’t keep going with it. It’s too different.

“Here puppy, c’mon.” It’s a brief call from the living room, and he listens out for the sound of your collar jingling with each slow step. He can already see the way you’ve forced the corners of your mouth up into a plastered smile. But your eyes, those puppy-dog eyes, are glossier than usual. And he frowns.

“What’s going on, huh? What’s wrong, sweet thing?”

He knows the nicknames get you good. And soon enough you’re climbing up into his lap with a low hanging tail tucked between your legs. He can’t help but chuckle softly, oh how quickly you cave. You’re a cuddly thing after all, snuggles are your weakness. “There’s my clingy girl, there we go. There she is.” He’s pushing the hair out of your face, a quiet sigh passing from his dry lips. “Talk to me, sweetpea. C’mon, tell daddy. I wanna listen, wanna know what’s wrong with my girl.”

And it’s true, he does.

What if he's trying to work from home/read some files but she keeps bugging him for attention/affection or to play?? :3

Working from home was supposed to be easier for him since getting a puppy hybrid. And sometimes it is. You lay by his chair in his at-home office, one large calloused hand running over your silky ears, your soft snores or the light tap of your tail making the perfect white noise for him to get paperwork done.

But, once again, you’re still a puppy. So sometimes he hears you wander your way in to sit by him on the floor with a thump. And then come the eyes having a little look-see at the papers he has spread out, a small mumble of “Whatcha doin?” passing your lips.

That’s how he knows you want something.

It only evolves from there. Pushing his reading glasses up onto his head to ruffle your hair. “Workin, pumpkin. The usual. Go on now.”

You do not in fact ‘go on now’. He thinks you do, assumes you do, by the sound of your feet trotting out of the room. Likely to find something else to do.

Wrong.

He feels you nose at his elbow, soft yet demanding in your own sweet way, and he arches a brow at you. There you are, again, sitting at his feet with a ball in your mouth. In your lovely puppy brain you associate Leon’s work with his stress. And stress is bad for your Leon. But playing always makes you feel better, so it must be play time! And at the thought of playtime, now you have to play or your tail will wag so fast it flies from your jittery body.

“Play?”

He scoffs just a little. “No, not play, darlin’. Work.” Of course he humours you, takes the ball and turns to toss it down the hallway. Soon enough you're dashing after it happily, very convinced your plan is working. And so you come back to him with the ball in mouth, dropping it at his feet. Only this time he gives a short shake of his head.

“No, puppy. It’s not play time. It’s work time.”

“But I don’t like work.” You whimper meekly up at him. It’s true. Work takes him away from you for hours so you have to wait by the windows for hours.

“I know baby, but daddy has to work so he can get you all the stuffed animals and treats you want.”

“But I don’t want those, I want daddy.”

Owch, that hurts a little, he won’t lie. Why do you have to be so damn sweet? You’re giving him a cavity by just being next to him. So he caves. He always caves. He’ll get the work done once you’ve had half an hour of running around and you conk out cold on the couch.

“How about this, hm? This is called a.. Wait fuck what’s it called- a compromise. Yeah, a compromise. Don’t repeat that f word, though. No- no stop giggling and listen, silly girl.” Two hands gently clasp your own, shaking them gently to keep your attention as you laugh your sweet laugh. And yes, he can’t help but smile too.

“I’ll give you all the play you want if I get half an hour’s worth of work in, okay? Every ten minutes if you’re extra good I’ll throw in a few rounds of fetch.”

That’s a done deal for you.

A few of my other headcanons are that puppy reader is HORRIFIED of the vet.

It either goes two ways, in which Leon has to stand there holding your hand as you shake like a leaf the entire time. Picking you up like a baby since you go rigid once you realise this is in fact NOT the park!!! You have been LIED TO!!!! DECEIT!!!!!! Staring him down with big pathetic eyes at his act of treacherous betrayal. “I know, I know, but you need your shots.”

You don’t bite, you don’t growl or bark, you just stare wide eyed at the wall like you’ve seen a ghost. Whimpering during the whole appointment, he usually has to grab your chin several times so you’ll actually look at him rather than the posters on hybrid health that might freak you out even more. And if they even try to give you a vaccination you’re clambering up his body as if he’s some sort of chiselled, stubbled tree in a leather jacket. And yeah, every time he can’t help but laugh.

“Oh come on, sunshine. It’s just a prick, you’ll be alright. You’re my brave girl, aren’tcha? You my brave girl, yeah? Yes you are, you’re my sweet girl, my brave baby.” He pries and coos so the veterinary nurse can jab you, plaster a hello kitty bandaid over the spot, and hand you a treat. Thank GOD that’s over.

In other cases you have a regular checkup with female vets who coo and coddle over how pretty you are, your tail whipping happily between your giggles. Usually Leon just leans against the wall and watches as the nurse takes your jaw and tells you to say ‘ah’, with the ladies gasping out a ‘Oh look at those clean pearly teeth!’ so you wiggle around. Yeah, those times you like the vets.

Squirrels are your arch nemesis. Especially since Leon won’t let you take the time to learn how to climb a tree. Let’s face it, seeing his puppy girl halfway up an oak trying to catch a chipmunk would give that poor man a heart attack.

You’re an end of the bed sleeper when he first gets you warm to him, and then he can’t get you out of his bed. Not even in a like, innuendo way, he just comes home in winter to you curled up under his covers waiting for him to get home. You're a huge cuddler, a giant snuggle bug. Yes, you do two or three little circles before lying down.

Every yawn is accompanied by a deep coo of “Aw, sleepy girl.” from Leon, and every stretch given a “Oo, big stretch.” Yeah, he’s that kind of puppy owner.

And he loves you to absolute bits!!! He never thought a puppy was exactly what he needed in his life <3

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fanfics-i-find-here · 9 days ago

Text

Do I Know You? Part 11

Synopsis: Jason continues to stick around and take care of you.

Notes: I am so happy you guys liked the last chapter. She was my baby while I was sick. Moving forward, we are going to keep going with the comfort because it's just nice. Jason is very touchy in this chapter. I mentioned somewhere about Jason’s love languages and this chapter is covered in them. He is out here taking care of Reader the way he would want to be cared for (even if he won't admit it out loud). Enjoy!!

Masterlist

You spent the night tossing and turning, drifting between the realm of asleep and awake. Aside from a warm hand luring you back into the dream world, you don't remember much. When you do wake finally, it’s raining. You can hear it pattering against the window of your room, the cold of it seeping in where it can. Your hand reaches for the warmth you had felt through the night to find it gone. You open your eyes to find yourself alone. An achy loneliness claws at your throat for a moment until you hear a clattering followed by a muffled curse. There’s silence for a moment before movement continues.

You turn to look at your alarm, quickly reminded of the pains from the night before. 11:48. You don’t know what time you made it home or what time you actually fell asleep. You still feel exhausted, but you don’t know if you could drift off. You take your time sitting up in bed, staring at the covers as you push down a wave of nausea. You slide out of bed, movements slowed by short waves of dizziness. You’re cold the moment your feet touch the ground. You grab a zip-up sweater and some fuzzy socks. You slide the sweater over your shoulders gingerly and take your time to pull your socks as you listen to shuffling from the kitchen.

You move quietly out of the bedroom and toe your way down the hall, peaking around the corner to see the kitchen. Jason stands in front of your stove. The smell of bacon invades your senses, and your earlier nausea tries to show itself. You watch him as you quietly pull a stool from under the island and sit down. He moves easily through your kitchen and before you fully settle in your seat, he has a glass of water and a couple of pain pills in front of you. You glance at the items and then up at him. He cracks a fond smile at you and a tender gnawing feeling starts in your chest.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice just slightly gravellier than normal. You had only heard his voice like that once before when he took you to watch the sunrise on the bay. The memory warms you.

“I’m okay,” you say quietly tugging at the sleeves of your sweater where your arms rest on the counter. He catches your movement and leans across the island, grabbing your hands and pulling them slightly forward. He pushes your sleeves down. Twisting your hands this way and that, he examines the bruising with a disapproving frown.

“It’s okay if you’re not; you went through something traumatic,” He gives your hand a rub with is thumb before he sets your hands back on the counter and turns back to the stove, “I was worried, you were seriously out of it last night.”

Your mind flashes through everything from the moment you made it to your apartment. You feel warmth creep up your neck and you bury your face in your hands. God, he had practically seen you naked. Talk about skipping a few steps in a relationship. Over your embarrassment, you feel a flood of gratitude because, despite the vulnerable position you had been in, Jason never took advantage of you. You hear a clink as something is set down in front of you. You peek through your fingers to see a plate loaded with bacon, scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes. Your nausea flares again.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, swallowing around nothing.

“You feel sick?” he asks. You nod and he’s quick to respond.

“It’s because you’re starving. I know you didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday because you were working all day and you definitely haven’t had anything today.” He states. You drop your hands to squint at him suspiciously.

“How do you know I was working all day yesterday?”

“I called Jackie’s,” you open your mouth to complain but he keeps talking, “There was no way you were going to go to work today. You have a concussion. You need rest no heavy lifting and plenty of good food.” He nudges the plate closer to you.

“Oh, yes, bacon. The most healing food out there.” You pick up a piece and bite into it. Despite the nausea, it tastes amazing. You finish the piece and your nausea ebbs away. You glare at Jason for being right. He just smiles and turns to make himself a plate. One slice of bacon in your stomach and you take the pain meds he had gotten for you. As you’re gnawing on a potato, you notice that the TV is on, volume so low you hadn’t noticed it at first. It’s the news, something about a car chase earlier that morning. You take your plate and cup of water and settle on the couch, crisscross. You had thought Jason was going to join you, but you hear the sound of the kitchen faucet running.

“You don’t have to wash my dishes. I can do it.” You call out. You hear a scoff before he responds.

“I made the mess; I’ll clean it up.” He says. You sigh because you know that there were more dirty dishes in the sink than the ones that he used but you don’t have the energy to argue. You continue eating, zoning out on the TV. Jason sits next to you, your knee pressing to his thigh, when the news changes. The anchor woman’s sharp voice evoked urgency.

“Breaking News. This just in. The Penguin has been arrested on accounts of multiple homicides and involvement in a human trafficking ring run through his club The Iceberg Lounge. Late last night at a known body dumping sight just north of Aparo Park, The Red Hood was seen pulling a young woman from a warehouse just minutes after Penguin had left the scene. The GCPD knew about the dumping site but had no evidence connecting it to him until now. At the warehouse, Police found the body of Ted Jackson. Jackson has been wanted by police for months on accounts of sexual assault and homicide. His body was brutally mutilated and the woman’s official statement states that Red Hood was responsible. For those not aware, Red Hood has been playing by Batman’s rules of no killing for the last four years. Is this sudden change in ethics a bad sign for Gotham? Or has The Batman lost his hold on this vigilante? We’ll see what our commentators think after the break.”

You set your plate on the coffee table, appetite gone. You tip your head back against the couch and slouch with a sigh, eyes closing. You rub your hands against your face in frustration. You wish you could just forget last night but you can feel it, just hovering at the edge of your mind, ready to pounce if you were to relax even a little bit.

“You okay?” Jason asks again. You peek one eye at him from the cracks in your fingers.

“You going to keep asking me that?”

“Only until you give me an honest answer.” He gives you a knowing look and you drop your hands.

“I’m not but it won’t change anything. I’ll get over it.” He snorts at your comment, and you glare at him.

“We can make you a Gothamite yet.” He grins at you.

“Shut up,” You try to smack at his arm, but he catches your hand. He holds your hand softly and gently rubs over the scraps on your knuckles and fingers. They tingle but don’t hurt. Your mind slips for a moment to how you got them, knife in hand, dragged by the ankle.

No. You snap yourself out of it and pull your hand from his. You meanly press your hands together in your lap. You keep your chin tucked watching the way your fingers squish together. You can feel Jason staring a hole into your cheek but you ignore it. A strange awkward silence creeps into the space. You hadn’t known awkward silence with Jason, ever.

“So, Red Hood? Good thing he showed when he did, huh?” He finally says. There’s a weird forced nonchalant to the question and you wonder if maybe he’s a fan.

“No, that asshole,” you mumble under your breath. You feel a sudden unbridled anger towards that man that had been coming in through your window. It was his fault you got kidnapped and then he showed up just to ditch you outside. He didn’t even do anything!

Jason must have heard your words and tone as he lets out a shocked, “What?”

You shake your head because you had to explain how you’re feeling to Jason, you would have to explain a bunch of other stuff too. Mostly you didn’t want to tell Jason that it was you who had killed Ted Jackson, not Red Hood. You didn’t want Jason to look at you any differently than he usually does.

“It’s nothing. He’s a great guy, did his job and all that.” You say with a less than enthused tone. You can see in Jason’s eyes that he wants to question you on the matter but instead, you get a different question.

“Wanna watch a movie? Keep your mind off of everything?” you eye him like he might jump you with a different question. His brows raise, still waiting for an answer.

You finally answer, nodding, “Yeah, okay.” You drag your blanket from the other side of the couch and pull it into your lap. “Nothing action-y or gore please.”

Once you have the blanket settled, you glance at him to find him gleaming at you.

“What? What do you watch?”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

Your face crinkles and you respond, “Do you have no other personality? Just Jason, Pride and Prejudice fan.” He chuckles at your comment.

“Unless there’s something else you want to watch.” You don’t have anything else in mind, so you concede with a head shake. He offers you the remote. You stare at it.

“Just look it up,” you tell him, still shuffling your blanket. He stares you down like he’s about to tell you something devasting.

“I’m going to be honest,” his tone serious, “I had a really hard time just finding the news this morning.” You laugh quietly into your hand.

“Don’t worry. I honestly didn’t even know I had the news.” You steal the remote from his hand and do a quick search through your streaming services. As the movie starts you snuggle back into your blanket, propping your feet on the coffee table. You lean over just slightly your shoulder pressing to his. He tenses for a moment and then relaxes again.

“I think it’s really funny that you suck with technology.” You whisper.

“I don’t suck at it. It just doesn’t make sense sometimes.” He whispers back to you like you’re in an actual movie theatre. You giggle into your blanket but quiet up, focusing on the movie. You don’t pull away from your touching shoulders and neither does he.

Jason does the opposite. He copies your slouch against the couch and props his feet on the table next to yours. The slouching pushes his shoulder tighter to yours and you just settle your head against his shoulder. Body relaxed against the heat of him again, you fade in and out of sleep. Moments of dancing, arguments in a drizzle of rain, and a warm body keep the cold dark corners of your mind at bay.

When you wake, you find yourself on your side, lying across the rest of the couch. Your legs had somehow ended up in Jason’s lap. You turn your head slightly just to watch him. His eyes focus on the TV as his hand moves up and down your calf, absentmindedly massaging the muscle before squeezing at your ankles, feet, and toes through your socks before repeating the process over. You take the time to just stare at him.

His black hair curls at the tips and you wonder if he styles it. You quickly brush the notion off because you can’t picture him doing that. He must have curly hair then. You follow the line of his face and smile at the intense stare he has on the TV. You pause at the scar on his cheek. Your old mental jar does rattle, although it’s not as loud as it usually is. Red Hood left you, Jason hadn’t. you still focus on the scar and your mind drifts to your conversation with the penguin.

“Do you have a job?” you ask suddenly. Jason glances at you out of the corner of his eye. The corner of his lip twitches up.

“Tired of me already?” he says as he gives your calf another squeeze before rubbing up and down.

“That’s not-” you pause for a second and close your eyes trying to collect your thoughts, “We’ve just never talked about it. Obviously, you know where I work. I don’t know where you work.” You don’t want to admit that Penguin, of all people, was making you question whether or not he was a criminal.

“I work in security.” He says easily.

“That’s beautifully vague.”

He chuckles at your comment, “A security subcontractor. I can make my schedule and only take on jobs I want.”

“Oh, like a mercenary,” you feel him tense at the word, “but you protect people instead of killing them.”

He shifts uncomfortably where he sits and you wonder if it’s you, so you try to pull your feet from his lap. His hand tightens around your ankle, keeping you there. You don’t think he realizes it.

“Yea, something like that.” He nods finally. “You should get a new door lock.” You want to roll your eyes.

“I can’t. This apartment is a rental.”

“You already changed your window locks and installed a shitty alarm system.” You snort.

“I didn’t-” you stop yourself, once again not wanting to tell Jason about Red Hood. “If you want to change my locks you can take it up with my landlord.” You offer instead of arguing.

He seems content with the offer, returning his gaze back to the TV with an “I will.”

Once the movie ends you stand to stretch, a slight twinge still in your back. You use the restroom and when you come back there’s a glass of water where your plate was, and Jason is wiping down the island with a rag.

“Will you stop cleaning my apartment?” you ask. He does a final wipe-down and shakes the rag over the trash.

“I’m stopping.” He rounds the island to stand in front of you. His hands find your arms, moving up a down slowly. “How you feeling?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not answering that.” Hands move down your arms to hold your hands and pull them up to his eyes. The sleeves of your sweater slide down enough for him to look at the bruises on your wrist again. You want to pull your hands away and brush off his staring, but you like the way his hands feel holding yours. Rough and warm. You’d let him hold you for hours if that’s what he wanted.

“We should get you some bruise cream. They still hurt?” he says finally.

“Only a little. What do you mean bruise cream? I thought you just waited out bruises.” He stops staring at your wrists to look at you. Your hands hang loosely between you two, but he doesn’t let go.

“You could but my grandfather used to use this stuff on me when I was younger, the bruise wouldn’t disappear, but it did make it hurt less. One of those natural remedies sort of thing.” It was rare that Jason talked about his family and rarer with a tone of fondness. He has the same happy look that he did when he told you about the best cookies in the world. You wonder if the same man is responsible for those.

“Okay, do you make it?” You don’t think you have any ingredients for magic bruise cream, but he shakes his head.

“We can buy it; I think you need some groceries too.” He squeezes your hands and lets go, “I made a list.” You blink at him.

“You made a list?” you ask incredulously.

“Yea, you want to come with me, or do you want to stay?” The easy way he’s managing your apartment and getting ready to go grocery shopping for you throws you for a loop but you're even more caught off guard by his question. You don’t really want to leave your apartment just yet. The thought of what could be lurking in the shadows outside is enough to make you sick. You don’t want Jason to leave either. You know he would come back but you don’t think you’re ready to be alone yet. He must see your worried mental debate.

“No rush on the decision. We can watch another movie while you think on it.” You shake your head at his offer.

“Why don’t we just have it delivered?” you feel selfish asking. You’re sure he wants to go out but if he’ll let you keep him longer, you want him to stay. He gives you a confused look.

“It's not pizza. It's groceries.” You laugh at the surety of the statement. Your unknown scrunched shoulders relax. You’re once again reminded of how out of the loop with technology Jason seems to be.

“Everything can be delivered now, especially in the city. I just need my…” you trail off. Your phone. You don’t remember the last time you saw it. Definitely not today. Last night before you taken? You pat at your bum like it’ll be in the back pockets that don’t exist on your PJs.

“Phone?” You finally finish your sentence. A look of recognition crosses Jason’s face. He walks over to your dining room table where there’s a pile of papers you hadn’t noticed before along with your phone on top of it.

“The commissioner stopped by to drop it off this morning. They found it in the warehouse last night. He also dropped off some extra information if you need it, help lines stuff like that.” You were shocked that the commissioner would offer resources for help but you guess Gotham has enough crazies as is. Your shock changes to confusion.

“My phone was in a different place than my purse?” Jason's brows furrow.

“What?”

“Last night, you had my keys. You said that they had found them in the warehouse and gave them to you. But if they found my phone in the warehouse it would’ve been somewhere else since they didn’t give you my phone last night.” Jason presses his lips together and nods along as you speak.

“Sound thought process to me.” He hands you your phone. You get the strange feeling that Jason is hiding something from you but there’s nothing in the conversation to hide so push down the thought. You settle on the couch and show him how to order groceries online. An hour later and halfway through The Notebook, your groceries are delivered. You try to help Jason bring them in but he shoos you off. Then you try to help put them and he shuffles you to one of the stools at the island. You watch him put away the groceries easily. You get the feeling he had a lot of time this morning while you were sleeping, enough to make a grocery list and know where everything in the kitchen went. You don’t feel uncomfortable with the idea like you thought you would. Jason wasn’t a strange man rummaging through your apartment. He was your friend (or something more? You seriously needed to talk about that) and he was looking into your world and taking care of it and you.

Groceries put away he comes to stand next to you. He easily pulls your stool out more and turns your seat. Your heart jumps at the display of strength but you ignore it. He has a small jar in hand and you can only assume it’s the bruise cream he was talking about. He opens it, sets it on the counter, and pulls one of your hands from your lap. His ever-gentle touches are back, pushing your sleeve up to your elbow. He dips his finger into the cream and swipes it onto the bruise. You gnaw at your inner cheek, periodically glancing between his face and his hands. His eyes focused like he was worried he could hurt you by accident at any given moment. You focus on his hands as his fingers rub the cream until the white becomes clear. He takes your other hand and repeats the process, Warm, sturdy, and tender hands caress your skin and your heart aches just a little with that gnawing emotion you don’t think too hard about.

His thumb rubs at your knuckles for a moment and his other hand dips back into the jar. Cold cream is dabbed into the bridge of your nose, startling you enough to tip backward, nearly falling off of the stool. Jason moves quicker than you anticipated. His hand wraps around your waist pulling you forward. Your legs spread, accommodating him as he accidentally pulls into your space. Your hand curls into his shirt at his stomach, where you had grabbed in momentary falling panic. You stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Careful,” he murmurs, “your nose is bruised.” He adds in explanation. His hold on your waist loosens but doesn’t remove his hand entirely as he goes back to rubbing at your nose. You stare into his blue-green eyes as he rubs, relaxing in his hold. A surge of gratitude overtakes you again. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of you and you’re not sure if it was with a tenderness like this.

“Jason?” you say his name quietly. He hums in response, fingers no longer rubbing along your nose but moving to hold your face. You want to say how thankful you are for him and happy that he’s in your life. The words choke in your throat. He’s watching you again, the way he always does. You think you know what it means now but you’re not emotionally ready for that conversation.

“Will you stay the night again?” you finally get out, “Please.”

He nods, “Course.” His hand slides from your face to hold at the back of your neck. Your hands slide from his front to around his waist in a hug as you press your face to his chest, hoping it conveys what you’re feeling. You’ll have to have a conversation, eventually, but not today. Today, you’re content with Jason holding you.

Additional Note: This is Jason domesticating himself. I picture Jason as a watch-and-learn type of person and he’s been watching her as Red Hood how she keeps her apartment clean to her standards for a while. He’s going to use that knowledge. This chapter and the next chapter are definitely filler type chapters but its okay, we’ll get somewhere eventually. Drop a comment if you want, I like everybody's thoughts. Thank you for reading

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @tetsuroubaby, @herodedicatedblog

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #do i know you?#kandywrites #fanfics-i-find-here

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angelic--kitty · 1 day ago

Text

caught in a lie!

cheater!beidou x rebound!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, dom!beidou x sub!fem reader, cheating (ningguang/beidou are a couple), rough sex, fingering/strap usage (r!receiving), oral (beidou!receiving), size difference, daddy kink, hurt no comfort/no aftercare (sorry), smoker!beidou btw

quick plot synopsis: after a rough patch in their relationship, beidou and ningguang agree on a "break" they both know won't last. though, beidou has no qualms about using you to her advantage in the meantime....

a/n: rushed ending, not proofread, but i wanted to try out something angsty

word count: 1.6k

you knew something was off when she had texted you at 2 am. you knew something wasn't quite right when she asked you to come over.

she hadn't even bothered to offer to pick you up or get you a ride. yet, like the pathetic little thing you were; you hurried to get ready and drive over to her place. how predictable.

she left the door unlocked for you, not expecting any other visitors (at least not tonight).

when you arrived, the state of her place was... sad at best. empty beer cans sat next to full ash trays, the house smelling of cigarette smoke.

the woman of the hour herself sat next to the open window on her beat-up couch. classy as ever, wearing low-rise gray sweatpants that framed what she was packing rather nicely, and a loose black t-shirt.

she leaned forward, blowing smoke out the window and into the cool night air. as she came back, she glanced over at you, a little smirk taking over. "hey. you got here pretty quick."

it was a sleight, though you simply shrugged, kicking a crushed can by your foot. "you don't live that far away from me, you know."

wouldn't bother you to stop by or call sometime, you muse silently to yourself.

she simply hums, taking one last drag of her cigarette, blowing it out the window before putting it out, closing it up as you shiver from the cold air. "i was trying not to stink up the place before you got here." she admits, standing up in front of you. "let me take your jacket."

"it's freezing." you huff and she sheepishly rubs the back of her neck.

"sorry about that. you want something to drink? or...something."

after an awkward few minutes, you settle for tap water, quietly sitting across from her as her foot taps on the tile. "why did you call me suddenly?" you ask meekly.

"i don't know. guess i missed you."

"you're not seeing anybody?" you ask, confused.

"what? it's a shocker someone like me is single?" she grins, and you smile, shrugging. "look at you. you're in the same boat, huh, pretty girl?"

"beidou, please-" you whine, but your face feels warm as you tap your nails on the glass.

"are you gonna sit there all night nursing your glass or..." she leans in, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger. "wanna head to my room?"

you nod, your eyes wide and excited, having desperately missed this with her. you trail behind her like a little lost puppy, letting her toss you onto her bed. "did you get smaller?" she teases you, looming over your body.

one of her rough hands traps your wrists above your head. "no, maybe you just got bigger!" you squirm playfully, tilting your head as she leans in to kiss down your throat.

she pushes her hips against yours as your thighs widen to give her room. you moan at the feeling of her strap rubbing against your clothed cunt as she laughs.

she sits you up, tossing your coat to the side, admiring the little outfit you put on for her. it accentuated your body perfectly and gave her easy access.

beidou didn't bother taking anything else off, just sliding your panties down from under your skirt and pushing your top over your tits. "fuck, would you look at that, huh?" she leans in, pinching your nipples to hear you squeak.

she pulls her strap out of her pants, rubbing it against your cunt as you squirm for her. the same hand slides to your mouth, tapping her fingers on your lips. "open up, baby." she coos, sliding her fingers over your tongue.

she goes too deep, eliciting a gag from your throat that she seems to enjoy a little too much. your throat constricts around her fingers while she plays with your gag reflex, her thumb gripping your cheek.

beidou roughly pulls her fingers away, strings of spit falling down your chin as she uses her slick fingers to spread your pussy open for her. "someone's eager." she snorts, sliding a finger into you as you gasp.

"fuck- beidou-" suddenly her other hand comes to lightly smack your cheek, grabbing your jaw.

"lost your manners?" she asks, her head tilted as your eyebrows furrow.

"i meant...daddy." you correct quietly and she grins, sliding another finger into you just to see your nose scrunch.

"better. good little slut always listening, yeah?" she crooks her fingers into you while you whimper and squirm around for her, your hands feebly grasping at her biceps.

she fucks you through your orgasm with ease, dragging her fingers out of you to coat her strap, giving you a little show as her wrist flicks in practiced movements.

you pant, leaning up a little before she pushes you back down, holding your thigh open wide. "but-"

"you don't need to suck me off, you're plenty wet enough." she smirks at your dejected look, swiping her thumb across your cheek. "you can use that pretty little mouth for me later." she promises, lining her strap up with your pussy.

you think for a moment she'll be gentle, but as she pushes the tip in, you cling to her, whining. "daddy, it's too-"

"you can take it." she reassures you, giving you a rare kiss to the top of your head. she always did prefer to fuck you with something too big. she liked to see you squirm. "take it for daddy, baby."

she fucks you roughly, leaning down to press her body weight into you. the tie of her sweatpants rubs against your exposed skin, her clothed chest pressing against your bare breasts.

her body covers yours, making you feel impossibly small as you sink into her bed, hearing the squeaks of the springs from how heavy her thrusts were. although, her low grunts and your own whines drowned them out, of course.

a calloused thumb sneaks down to rub your clit, feeling your hips jerk up against her. the rest of her fingers splay over your abdomen, admiring the bulge her strap makes as she fucks you.

she listens to your incessant moans and whines, half-ignoring you as she shoves you into the mattress, leaving bruises on your thighs and hips. though, you don't seem to mind, chasing your orgasm as you beg her for more.

once you finally cum, she drags her strap out, tossing the fake cock aside and sitting beside you on the bed. you're twitching and leaking, looking up at her as she leans down, teasingly pinching your nipple.

she slides her pants down further, taking her boxers with them as she spreads her thighs. "come on, get on your knees, baby." she taps your cheek, watching you limply slide down between her thighs.

her hand weasels its way into your hair, guiding you to eat her out while she leans back. she ends up using your mouth, holding your head steady while she fucks your tongue. you look up at her, doe-eyed and eager for praise as she keeps you pressed to her cunt.

her hair tickles your nose as you moan against her clit, desperately trying to keep up with her movements. her orgasm doesn't take long to hit, and as soon as it does, she pulls her pants back up, lighting a cigarette and lounging on her bed.

you climb up onto the bed, fixing your clothes and awkwardly clearing your throat. "um..."

beidou takes a long drag, blowing the smoke to the side. she scrolls through her phone, typing a long message to someone as you try to peer over at her phone. she sends you an annoyed scowl. "what?"

you frown, leaning away. "nothing! i just-"

"you can go." she scoffs, resting the cigarette on her lips as she finishes her text.

"beidou..." your voice is pathetic as you look at her dejected.

"what did you expect? i called you at 2 in the morning, you're the one who ran your ass over here expecting something." beidou scoffed. "i didn't promise you shit."

you blink at her, confused and hurt as your fingers ball up the fabric of your skirt. "i didn't think it meant nothing!"

she blew her smoke into your face, snorting as she put the cigarette out in the tray next to her bed. "you're a distraction. that's all."

your heart sinks to your stomach. "a distraction from what?"

"who do you think?" beidou shrugged, turning her phone off and shoving it into her pocket. "she came before you, she'll be here after you. isn't it enough you got fucked? isn't that what you wanted?"

"that's what you wanted, not me!"

"well you never complained until you got it in your head that you deserved more. not my fault."

you sniffle, tears gathering in your eyes as you stare at the photo of them on her nightstand. pictures of them were littered around her room. one of her hairpins, an empty tube of lipstick, a half-filled bottle of perfume on her desk.

"it's always going to be her." beidou asserts. "we fight sometimes, yeah, but i love her." she runs a hand through her hair, sighing. "she's just as fucked up anyways. neither of us are naive to sleeping around."

you stand up hurriedly, wiping your eyes. "fuck you. fuck you both!"

beidou simply sits there unbothered. "i just needed something to play with until i get my girl back. if you're that sensitive, you should've ignored my text."

and with that, your heart shattered, leaving you to drive home in tears. you had been used, and she didn't even care...

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dearlymrme · 2 years ago

Text

I’ll Kama Your Sutra (Papa Emeritus x Reader)

Summary: The boy’s favorite sex positions with you.

Primo x Reader || Secondo x Reader || Terzo x Reader || Copia x Reader || Vaginal Sex || Rough Sex || Quickie || Consensual Somnophilia || Poorly Translated Italian || WC: 2525

Primo

Spooning

You wake swaddled in warmth and wet, mostly between your legs. In that milky white space between dream and reality, you feel a gust of hot air blow against the back of your neck followed by the gentle pressure of lips. You groan as you feel heat strike at your core. The throb between your legs is likely what woke you up. That and the fingers Primo has buried and your sopping cunt.

“Did I wake you, mia stella?” Your husband asks softly, pressed up behind you. His other arm gently wrapped around you and cupped a handful of your breast. It's easy for him to pull you tighter against him. “Sorry, I could not help myself.” He gives the back of your neck another kiss as his fingers stretch at your entrance.

“You looked so soft and pliant. So innocent…” He had gotten up for a glass of water but was stopped in his tracks by the soft moonlight from the window that had caught your face. It practically made you glow, and you looked so beautiful and so easy to take advantage of.

His chuckle erupts deep from his chest and you shudder as his thumb swipes against your clit, expertly from years of practice.

“Even though it only takes just a few strokes of my fingers to turn you into a slut.”

You groan and slightly push your pelvis back against his and feel him hard against your lower back.

“Primo.” You say his name once with urgency, and the man groans against your neck before removing his fingers and sucking them into his mouth. You lift your leg and shudder as he slicks his cock with your juices, fumbles with the head, before sheathing himself in two long strokes.

You both give throaty groans from pleasure before a soft and even paced rocking motion was applied.

"Your back…" You breathlessly moan in concern for his sore spine, but with a click of his tongue and another kiss pressed to your neck, it's quickly forgotten about.

"Don't worry about it." He angles his hips, and a high pitch keen erupts from your lips as he slides oh so wonderfully against the bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars behind your closed eyes.

"Just come for me, stella." He growls roughly in your ear before cupping you by the chin and turning your head just enough for him to capture your lips in a messy kiss.

You tangle your tongue lazily with his, still on the cusp of sleep and the featherlight buzz in your lower stomach, the heat of your lover’s embrace, and the steady rocking of your conjoined bodies, it quickly brings you to release as your body locks up in contractions.

Primo groans and gives a few more tenacious rocks of his hips before you feel his dick jumping inside you. You place your hand on your lower belly and rub, and maybe it's the sleep causing you to imagine things but you could swear you actually feel his hot cum warming you from the inside.

"Augh." You hear him give a pained groan and shift to get his cock to slip out. You rub at your eyes as you turn over to get out of bed and retrieve a hot water bottle, immediately more awake at the sound of his discomfort.

"I told you so." You teased with a yawn.

Primo exhales a chuckle through his nose and turns to lay on his back with a wince.

"You're always worth it, stella."

Secondo

Mating Press

You toss and turn in frustration, hands gripping his arms hard enough to bruise and nails dug in deep enough to bleed. But you're trapped. There is no way out and nothing for you to do but take what he has to give. Your knees are pressed up to your chest, hooked over his arms, and held in place. His arms are up and over your back, hands dug into your shoulders and keeping you in place. Savagely thrusting after thrust into your wet hole as he bares his teeth at you and growls like he does on stage, like an animal.

“Fu-fuck!” Your croak, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had done so far.

“Se-secondo!” You gasp for air like a fish out of water as he gives you absolutely no chance to catch your breath, just over and over. Your body’s slide together, slick with sweat, and shared heat, turning the temperature up to a nearly uncomfortable level. You feel lightheaded from it all, your body singing as his strong assault of your pussy sends vibrations of pleasure throughout your core, steadily crawling and coiling into your lower belly.

“That’s right. Say my name, dolcezza.” He growls, nearly as breathless as you are. His grunts loudly echoing through the room with your weak gasps for air as he drives his cock mercilessly into you. “Only I can make you feel this way. Chi possiede questa figa?” He then stops his thrusts to roll and slide right up against your g-spot with expert precision.

“Hmm? Who?” He grunts, and his rolls don’t last for long. Your heat too much, your body too demanding for more. He quickly goes back into ravaging you like a strike of lightning.

“Y-You!” You shriek, and his roar is ripped from his chest at the statement before he’s rolling forward again to reach and drag your tongue out to play with his. His lower stomach begins to jump with each thrust, and he’s getting close, just as he knows you are.

“Questo cazzo ti appartiene altrettanto.” He mutters against your lips and sucks your bottom lip like a drop of sweet candy, lapping it gently with his tongue and smiling at how red and swollen he has made it.

“Go on, dolcezza. Pinch that fucking clit. I want to feel you come.” At his demand your hand reaches down between your bodies to roll over that sensitive bundle of nerves. You rub furiously at the engorged bud and Secondo groans as your walls get tight and hotter around him. You climax is not sudden but it still rips through you like an earthquake, causing your entire body to lock and mouth open with a scream as Secondo fucks you through it.

He’s even faster now, chasing after his release like a madman. As your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head from his frantic pace and relentless assault on your quim, he pants through the marathon like an Olympic racer and finally.

Finally, his hips stutter, and he slams hard into you, his hands forcing you down with his finale thrusts. You wince at the force in what will clearly be a pelvic bruise tomorrow, but the aftershocks of your climax quickly do away with the worry.

Secondo breathes, his tense muscles finally relaxing into the molten looseness that comes with an orgasm and he shifts in place but keeps your legs lifted, you hips just slightly off the bed, giving his seed that extra leverage to faster reach your womb.

When he feels as though long enough time has passed, he releases you from his pin and lets you lower your legs around his hips.

He smirks at you and your red face before lowering himself to lay beside you and gathers you in his arms.

He reaches over to the bedside table to retrieve a water bottle and hands it to you before kissing you on your temple.

"Think it'll take this time?" He curiously asks over the crinkle of plastic as you drown down the bottle in less than a handful of seconds.

You gasped for air before slowly wiping your mouth and resting your head in the crook of his neck.

"You know what they say. If at first you don't succeed…"

And the two of you will try as many times as it takes.

Terzo

Ballet Dancer

The lewd slaps of his balls meeting your wet cunt fills the small closet. You give a growl of frustration as he nearly purposely avoids that spot that has your toes curling and you lower your head to bite at his collar. Terzo hisses before giving a bark of laughter. You quickly reach up and slap a hand over his mouth.

“Quiet!” You hiss behind your bared teeth, and his eyes crinkle in what would be a charming smile. Then, to be an asshole he moans loudly into your hand before swiping his tongue across your palm. You roll your eyes and adjust your leg over his thigh before he sinks home into that spongy gland inside of you, and now you're the one making the noise.

He had cornered you in the hall in his papal robes and immaculate paint, clearly just finished getting ready for the day but as soon as he saw you he was grabbing you by the waist and sequestering you away to the nearest empty room, painting your neck and lips with black kiss marks as he ground his cock into you.

“Please? You know a quick fuck always makes the meetings more bearable.” It didn’t take much convincing to have your panties down to your ankles and your leg swung over his hip, his hands cupping your ass and you holding his arm to help support you as he pistons his dick in and out at a furious enough pace to have you gasping for breath.

Terzo ignores the snap of a fallen broom as it hits the floor, too fixated on your glorious heat as your cunt strangles his cock like a hot constrictor. The spine tingling pleasure is starting to build up like a coil in his cock and it won’t be too much longer now.

You reach up to cup Terzo by his face and pull him into a ferocious kiss. He breathes through his nose, attacking your tongue with a manic frenzy and breaking the kiss with a small bridge of spit. He snaps the connection by giving you a feral grin and readjusting his hold on you before he dips his hips low, arching at his lower back, and then he’s striking your core with every thrust.

“Fuck! T-Terzo.” You stutter, your thigh beginning to shake and your single supporting leg starting to jiggle from the onslaught of pleasure. He devilishly grins at your red face, at the small trail of drool beading down the side of your mouth, at the black lipstick he’s covered your lips and collar with.

“Come on, principessa.” He goads, rolling his ‘r’ like he’s rolling his hips. “I’m close. A-Are you close? Are you going to come for me?” You nod your head, so blissed out that you're not even sure what you're agreeing to anymore. You just want more as you’re coming to the end. Terzo licks up your spit before giving you another heated kiss, sucking on your lip before biting hard enough to draw blood.

That small snap of pain combined with molten pleasure is what does it for you. You clench down like a vice and dig your nails into his shoulders, nearly ripping his ceremonious outfit. His legs are the ones to buckle as he gives a few more good thrusts before reaching nirvana and sliding down to the ground, bringing you with him.

“Good. Damn good.” He pants against your chin and rides the aftershocks of his climax. He stares at you, taking in your wrecked appearance.

Your hair is messy from when his seeking fingers thread through it. Your eyes are glazed and half closed in pleasure. Your mouth shaped in a perfect ‘o’ and your cheeks stained with ruddy tears. The sight of your sex devastated body his his dick spring as your walls strangles that last drop of cum from his loins.

The meeting is sure to go by quickly now with his bones turned to jelly and the afterglow of a good fuck in his system. He’s not going to be able to pay a single bit of attention though. No, he’s going to be more focused on how to better make you scream once after the meeting is over.

Copia

Cowgirl

“S-Shit…Copia!” You moan as his hands go down to cup your thighs and help you to further spread your legs. Your thighs themselves burn from exertion but it’s too damn good to stop.

“Lift up just a little, cuore mia.” Copia pants against your chest before your shaking legs lift off.

“That’s right, just hover.” He advises and you bite your lip as his thrusting turn to grinds. He lifts you up against him, your soft breasts pressed against his chest. Your stomach trembles against his. Your hot sweaty skin slid against his body and his hips bucked up.

“Hold on.” He smirks and you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning more forward against him to take some of the weight off your thighs. He slouches further back against the couch and spreads his own legs to brace before-...

“Fuck!” It’s savagely ripped from your throat as his hips begin to jack-knife into you at a frightening pace. Faster than you could have ever ridden him on your own. The hot wet sounds of your love echoing through the room in slaps so wet it was nearly embarrassing. The noise only made you hotter and your toes curled.

The subtle hot fluttering around his cock tells him you’ve come, your mouth opened in a silent scream against his jaw as your nails dug into his neck. The pace he sets is relentless. Your arms around him are nearly suffocating if he wasn’t already choking on the pleasure. He can practically feel his heart throbbing in his cock as the black creeps at the edge of his vision while he fucked as hard and fast as he can.

His head goes light before he takes a gasp of air, swallowing as much oxygen as he could and slams you down atop his dick, trying to get as deep as possible. His legs shake from the stimulation as he sets his feet flat to the floor and gives a few final good thrusts, his dick pulsates inside of you with each jet of release.

You wait in the afterglow with him as you both try to regain your breath from one of the best fucks to date and then the burning of your thighs starts to return. You slide off of him with a satisfied groan and make a face as you feel his cum wetly spill out of you from the action, likely staining the couch or carpet, or both.

“Don’t worry about it.” Copia mutters dumbly, sufficiently fucked himself stupid and still light headed, he places a weak open mouth kiss to your chin. “Let’s get more comfortable.” You nod and stand on trembling legs, feeling very weak in the knees and hold out your hand to him.

He takes it and makes the attempt to stand but fails as his legs wobble and give out from under him, planting him back on the couch.

“On second thought, why don’t we nap here?”

~*~*~

Translations:

Chi possiede questa figa? Who owns this pussy?

Questo cazzo ti appartiene altrettanto. This dick belongs to you just as much.

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