#I also considered Body but like Hunger it felt like it leaned too far to one over the other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kodared · 2 years ago

Text

☆ Welcome home Neighbor~! ☆

Since when could puppets talk?

Chapter 2/?

————————————————————————

The smooth and crisp wind passing over your body was nothing but pleasant, You must have fallen asleep while hanging out with your friends.

As you sat up though, the way your bones ached made you consider otherwise.

You also don't remember your friend's backyard being this vast… or colourful?

Suddenly it hit you like a ton of bricks. The memory of the previous day wracking through your skull and providing nothing but headache and disturbance to your very core.

You rose your hand to rub the effects of an unrestful sleep from your eyes, your knees cracking slightly as you rose from the soft grass. Nothing about this forest seemed natural.

The trees were seemingly all different colours despite it being nowhere close to autumn. The grass was perfectly trimmed, and butterflies flew freely, with no flowers nearby, and the birds chirped even if you didn't spot them.

This all felt too perfect.

Your hands found purchase in your pockets, thankful for your clothes to have not been robbed as you feel all of your previous items to still be there. Including newspaper clippings and various other folded papers.

‘I guess there's nowhere left to go but forward..’ You thought.

As much as you did not want to, the feeling of hunger knawed at your bones. Looking at your hands and knees you realize you also need medical assistance as well, or at the very least bandaids and hydrogen peroxide.

The uncomfortable feeling of dried blood aching at the palms of your hands and knees, your once comfortable sweat pants now having holes in the knees from where you… fell?

…

Yeah, fell. You had to have taken quite a tumble to sustain this amount of injury. There was no other explanation for it.

As you walked farther and deeper into the vast forestation, you saw civilization ahead of you! Or at the very least a small village, perfect!

Something didn’t feel right though as you were nearing the village. It was far too colourful. Even if all you could see was a storefront and a Post office, something about this felt wrong.

Maybe you could turn around and find a highway to get someone else's help, you weren't about to try and stumble into a cult afteral-

“ Why! Arent you interesting looking Neighbor!”

You quickly turned on your heel at the voice coming from behind you. Only to be met with a more confusing sight.

It… He? He appeared to be about several feet tall, towering far above you, His skin being green. One thing however made you freeze in fear.

He had Multiple arms and legs.

His arms holding what appeared to be multiple baskets and crates of produce,

“Ah! I don't mean to startle you! Are you alri..?”

Nope. You were not about to stick around to hear the rest of his sentence. You did not care. You knew better than to run in the direction of the Village, so you used the advantage of being shorter than average to go behind him, deeper into the woods.

“Wait a Second!”

You ran for what felt to be an eternity before leaning against a tree to regain your lost stamina. Your laboured breaths bordered on hyperventilating as you recalled what you just witnessed.

‘He at least had to have two sets of arms and legs! And was he green?!’

You don't know how you got here but clearly, your hunger did not matter anymore. You were not going back to that village.

You slid down the base of the tree you were leaning on, deciding on taking a brief pause to calm down.

I mean you had to have lost him anyways,

‘he was holding crates and boxes, he would never be able to catch u-’

“Gotcha!”

You felt arms wrapping under yours. Okay. Panic time!

You kicked your legs like a wild animal, panicked words tumbling out of your mouth in a crazed flurry. There may have been a few cuss words flung at the Green man, but that obviously did not matter to him.

“LET GO OF ME YOU SON OF A-”

Two of his arms held you under your arms, lifting you up and holding you tightly to his chest, while his other set gripped at your legs, clearly trying to stop you from kicking him.

“You're a wild one aren’t ’Cha! Calm down!”

Your breath become frantic again, and the feeling of a panic attack gripped your spine as you felt his arms hold tightly against you, successfully restraining you from freeing from his grip.

The pain from your previous abrasions resurfaced as you felt the uncomfortable feeling of felt fabric against open scratches. Was this guy a puppet??

All of a sudden it hit you, he looked like one of the puppets in the illustration at the Warehouse!

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you both stood in silence, the only sound present being your hyperventilation.

“Take deep breaths, I aint gonna hurt cha,”

Lies. those had to be lies. You tried to calm down though for your own safety, it wasn't good to have your mind clouded with fear if you had any plans to escape.

His grip readjusted on you as his second pair of arms went from restraining to holding you up comfortably, your knees supported by his arms.

“Just like that friend, you're doing good”

You didn't like the way those words made comfort trickle into your brain, one thought presented itself into your mind as you breathed more evenly though, he mentioned earlier you looked interesting.

Was he just as confused as to what you were as you were of him?

You looked at his arms that held you to his chest, his hands only possessed four fingers in total, as opposed to your five. His skin also being green, with a tinge of dark green highlighting where his knuckles would be, a stark contrast to your skin.

“I would put ya down but m‘fraid of you running off again, I don't think I properly introduced myself! Names Howdy, Howdy Pillar!”

You craned your neck to look at his face, He had a set of antennae similar to that of a…

Oh, his name was a bug pun, okay that's kinda cute.

“Uh, Names Y/N, Sorry for… Running?”

You were still confused about your… situation as a whole, but the least you could do was be polite. He hadn't done anything to really make you distrust him yet. Other than chase you of course, but maybe there was a reason for that.

“Don't apologize for that! M’sorry for chasing ya!”

He let out a chuckle at the end of his sentence, a dark green blush finding its way onto his face. Your curiosity got the best of you,

“So uhm... What are you?”

You blurted out as you looked at his hands, Your free hand finding its way on top of his... Okay yeah he had big hands, nothing is new to you about that.

He let out a laugh this time as he began to talk,

“I could be asking ya the same thing! Ya okay to be put down? I don’t want ‘cha running off though,”

“Yeah, I won't run this time”

At your promise of not running, he unwrapped his arms from you and set you on the ground, you turned to face him and once again were met with the same features you saw last time.

“Oh my! You're really banged up!”

His hands grabbed at your hands, flipping them over in his grasp to inspect the damage, you could still see the curious glint in his eyes as he examined your hands in comparison to his.

“Oh yeah, that's actually why I was walking over to your.. town? You wouldn't have anything to help would you?”

His hands once again picked you up… And you were beginning to feel like a stray cat with how this guy held you.

“I own one of the best Shops in my Neighborhood! You've come to the perfect Caterpillar!”

You prayed there were no other bugs in the village as a shudder crept up your spine. You didn't dislike bugs, but you weren't the fondest of them either.

His eyes examined you as you dangled your legs in his grip... Okay, you knew he was curious but this was beginning to border on weird.

“Well! We should… Go there! I'm still bleeding a bit”

You raised your hands in emphasis, your exasperated expression must have been prominent to Howdy as he set you down rather quickly.

“Of course! Follow my lead!”

Howdy took hold of one of your hands as gently as he could, the felt texture still irritating your sensitive hands though.

You could only assume he took hold of your hand as an extra reassurance you wouldn't dash away at a moment's notice, this was only confirmed by his glances over his shoulder to you, confirming you were still following along.

You decided to start up a friendly conversation, seeing as you weren't particularly fond of the silence that had dissolved over the two of you.

“So, are the other townspeople bugs too? Or is it just you?”

You hoped your question didn't come off as offensive to Howdy, but as he let out a small giggle you felt your suspicions leaving your mind.

“No, seems to be just lil ol me that's a caterpillar! My friend Eddie actually looks very similar to you,”

Howdys head turned to look at you again, his antennae perking up a bit as he gave you a friendly grin. ‘Maybe Eddie is also a human, he might be able to help me’ You thought as you met Howdys eyes again.

“We need to get you fixed up before I can introduce you to the Neighborhood though friend! I'm certain I have some spare needle and thread to patch ya up!”

Oh yeah, your pants were ripped at the knees you figured as you glanced down. That would be useful to patch before you… Meet, the rest of the Town.

The rest of the walk was silent, with the Town coming into your vision as you walked with Howdy, you spotted his previously abandoned crates of produce, and a cringe took over your face.

“Sorry for making you drop your things, I didn't mean to inconvenience you.”

It only felt right to apologize to Howdy, even if he did scare you into running unintentionally.

“Don't worry about it! I can always come back for it,”

Howdy let go of your hand to gather up what he could, and you began helping him by picking up dropped apples and oranges that spilled from one of the crates, handing them to Howdy when you gathered what you could.

“Thank you Neighbor! My bugdega is just up here!”

He motioned for you to follow, so you did, you chose to let out a pity laugh at the bug pun.

He set down the crates and boxes he was holding in what you could only assume was the produce section in front of the store to hold the door for you, as you both stepped into the small store, you had to admit, for a puppet, he kept the store looking pristine.

Howdy walked behind his counter and began rummaging through a drawer to find some things to patch you up with as you stood awkwardly still in the front of the store. You took in what he stocked on his shelves,

There seemed to be a wide variety of apple-flavoured products, including apple-scented shampoo, to your dismay there was no toothpaste or bandaids.

If you were going to be stuck here for a while you would have at least appreciated some toothpaste, but you supposed it made sense seeing as Howdy was a puppet.

“Oh! Where are my manners! You can come over here, Neighbor!”

Howdy emerged from the back of the Counter to place a small stool, you felt like a kid again as you sat politely on the stool in front of the crouching Howdy who was holding a sewing kit.

One thing did concern you though, why was he patching your pants and not your scratches?

“This will hurt a bit! But I assure you you'll feel better after your all-patched-up Neighbor!”

…Yeah the adrenaline is back in your veins as he moved his hand to position the needle at your skin.

Your posture went rigid as you pulled your knee away from Howdy,

“UH! I don't need stitches Howdy! It's just a small scratch!” Your nervous laugh returns again

“Nonsense! You still need a Patch for it to heal correctly!”

Howdy moved his second set of hands to grip your leg, keeping you from moving it away from him again,

Right before he could begin stitching at your knee though, you kicked him in the chest, successfully freeing yourself and running for the door.

He had successfully given you a reason to fear him and flee again, you took off down the road, hearing Howdy chase after you.

“You said you wouldn't run again!”

You turned your head to look at the frazzled and confused Howdy,

“THAT WAS BEFORE YOU TRIED TO-”

Your running came to a stop when you slammed into something,

“OUMPH!”

Nope, someone.

“Eddie! Grab hold of 'em!”

Your tailbone hit the hard ground making tears prick at the corner of your eyes again, you just couldn't escape Howdy, could you?

You felt firm hands grab hold of you before you could pick yourself up, as your vision cleared of tears you got a good look at the puppet holding you,

So this was Eddie? He did… kinda? Look similar to you, his hands still had only four fingers, but at least his nose looked more similar to yours... And he wasn't a bug.

Your calm examination of Eddie though was only temporary before you felt Howdy taking hold of you again from Eddie's grip.

“Thank ya kindly Eddie! This one doesn't want to be Patched up it seems!”

“LET GO!! I DON'T NEED TO HAVE STITCHES!”

Your kicking and squirming started back up again, with little concern for Eddies bewildered and concerned look as you tried to claw at Howdys arms and hands.

“They… don't look like us? Are you sure they need patches?”

Eddie's hands took hold of one of yours, examining the damage, the blood has dried and scabbed over by now.

“I! Don't! Need! A! Patch!”

Your legs attempt to kick at Howdy in emphasis.

“I just need a Bandaid! It'll heal over in a Day or two!”

Both of the puppets looked more confused than ever. Suddenly it made sense, they would need a patch for something like this, they were puppets for god sake.

“Whats a bandaid?”

Eddie's hands still had not left yours, as he held his hand up to compare his hand size to yours, he reminded you of a curious teenager.

“It's like, A patch that doesn't need to be permanently sewn into your skin, It just sticks there.”

You struggled to come up with a comparison to what a bandaid was to a puppet-man, you craned your neck again to look up at Howdy,

“And humans don't need to be sewn into unless they're bleeding out, which, I am not.”

Howdys bashful smile took over and replaced his confused one, a small blush seeping into his felt, how did that even work?

“Ah! I understand now Neighbor! I apologize!”

Everyone here was as sweet as honey, you swore if you stayed much longer you would develop a cavity.

“It's no worries, can you?”

You gestured to being put down, wiggling your hand from Eddie's grip while you did so.

“Oh sorry! Names Eddie by the way!”

Howdy set you down with no complaint, Eddie put out his hand for a handshake, which you returned.

“My name is Y/N, and don't worry about it, I know I look a little… new, to you guys”

That was certainly one way of putting it you supposed, you probably looked like an alien to these guys.

“By the way, Howdy? Do you have any spare clothes? Im a bit of a mess.”

“Of course I do Neighbor! Eddie, would you like to come as well?”

The feeling of eyes on you was uncomfortable, but you just scratched it up to Eddie staring at you still.

--------------------------

As you all walked back to the Bugdega though, you missed the yellow fellow peeking from the red house.

--------------------------

As always Updates are more frequent on my Ao3!

Till next time ! - ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ✨

#howdy pillar #howdy pillar/reader #welcome home #ao3 link #updates #ao3 #chapter 2 #Welcome home Neighbor

80 notes · View notes

koolkat9 · 1 year ago

Text

A Vampire, A Werewolf and A Merman and Blood Drinking

I really am running out of titles... Anyway happy late Halloween!

Rating: T

Relationship: Gerfruk

Word Count: 1056

Author's Note: minor depictions of blood. Also Grammarly was down so this has zero editing, but I was already so late with it I said screw it.

Read on AO3

Francis was starving. Winter was never easy to find food, but he couldn’t recall a winter this rough to the point he could barely stand for long periods of time. He had been scraping by with come mice he had found taking shelter in the shed, but he was pretty sure he cleared the last one out the previous week. Animal blood was not the most sustainable, and the smaller the animal, the less the blood.

Getting weaker and weaker, Arthur and Ludwig began to catch on.

“You’re not going to go on like this,” Arthur stated, grabbing Francis’s arm.

“That’s why I’m going hunting.” Francis bit back. His patience had been thinner this past week.

“Francis…” Ludwig piped up, “Are you sure it’s wise to go out like this. You’re swaying.”

Francis gripped at the door frame, steadying himself. “I’ll be fine. I don’t have much of choice anyway.”

“Feed off me.”

Francis’s gaze snapped towards Arthur. “Quoi?”

“Feed off me? Is your hunger making you go deaf too?”

“You know I made a vow to never drink human blood.”

Arthur smirked. “Lucky for you I’m not human.”

“This isn’t even up for discussion Arthur, now let me go.”

Ludwig and Arthur tried to protest further, but Francis just strode out the door.

— — —

Francis dragged himself through the door, stomach empty, legs barely keeping him up.

“You’re feeding off of Arthur,” Ludwig said sternly as Francis entered the living room.

“What are–”

“We couldn’t sleep knowing you could very well pass out somewhere out there,” Arthur interjected, “And then the sun would rise and–”

“I get the picture,” Francis hissed.

Ludwig rose to his feet, taking Francis into his arms to steady him. “Francis,” his voice carried as if lecturing a child, “You’re going to hurt yourself further if you keep this up. I know you’re scared, but Arthur has his werewolf strength. If you go too far, he’ll stop you. I’ll stop you.”

Francis searched Ludwig’s eyes, they were hard with determination, but still comforting. Francis gripped at Ludwig’s arm. “Okay…” he breathed.

He hobbled over to the couch and seated himself next to Arthur. Francis went to grab his wrist, but Arthur instead climbed on his lap and bore his neck to him. “I’d say we’re far too intimate for the wrist love,” he teased.

Normally, Francis would tease back at the suggestiveness of the comment, but in his brain was just static noise. He couldn’t think about this. He couldn’t back out.

A sweet scent wafted off of Arthur. Had he always smelt that good? Francis’s mouth was watering.

Arthur braced for the prick, eyes squeezed shut. Francis could hear how fast Arthur’s heart was beating. He licked at the skin of Arthur’s neck, feeling his lover’s pulse. Deep breath in then out, he bore his fangs and pierced the skin.

Blood rushed into Francis’s mouth. It was sweet, surprising considering Arthur was so bitter. Though perhaps the sweetness was from all those desserts he could never say no to. Either way, it was far more delicious than animal blood. He sucked at it eagerly.

Arthur gasped before it turned into a soft moan. His body filled with a cozy kind of heat, a fog setting over his mind the more Francis drank. It had been awhile since he got high, but it felt just like this. He bit his lip, refusing to let Francis know just how good he felt, but he couldn’t help but grip at the vampire’s coat and hair.

The room started spinning, Arthur leaned further into Francis’s embrace, eyes fluttering closed, lips parting with a breathy moan. It was getting harder and harder to focus and keep himself under control.

Francis just kept drinking and drinking. He hadn’t tasted anything so delectable since he got turned. Animal blood, though it kept him full in most cases, it never tasted good. Not bad per say, but he never got pleasure out of feeding like he did when he was human eating human food. But the taste of Arthur’s blood…It wasn’t of human food, but it was…intoxicating. He couldn’t stop himself even though he was getting fuller quicker than he ever did on animal blood.

Ludwig watched intently as his two lovers lost themselves. Arthur was growing deathly pale, but Francis wasn’t stopping. Arthur wasn’t stopping him.

He let it go on for a few more minutes before finally intervening. “Okay that’s enough,” he warned, but it only fell on deaf ears. He pleaded some more before shaking Arthur’s shoulder.

“Arthur,” Ludwig begged, though he tried to keep his voice hard, “You need to snap out of it. Please.”

The words seemed to reach deep within Arthur. Eyes cracking open, he looked towards Ludwig. “Lud…” he rasped.

Arthur finally blinked out of his daze and pushed Francis off him and scrambled off his lap. Woozy, he almost fell, but Ludwig caught him.

For a moment, Francis looked confused, even angry before coming back to his senses to see just how pale Arthur now looked. A horrified look crossed Francis’s face.

Ludwig guided Arthur back to the couch, pulling a nearby blanket down and wrapping it around a now shivering Arthur.

“I’m okay…You don’t need to fret.” Arthur turned to Francis. “And look at you. You actually look healthy and lively for once.”

“Oh mon lapin…” Francis breathed. He reached out to caress Arthur’s cheek but pulled his hand back. “You’re bleeding a bit still, let me get you a bandage. And some water. Then we’ll have a nice big meal.”

Francis rushed towards the kitchen, only stopping half way when he heard Arthur call.

“Don’t start wallowing in self-pity Franny. I’m fine. And…It actually felt kind of good. Maybe we should add it to our sex life.”

Normally Francis would laugh at such a joke, but right now his mind was racing with what could have happened if Ludwig wasn’t there. How he almost did what he had feared most. At the same time…He licked the remaining blood off his lips. Francis wanted to taste him again.

Francis just stared at a smirking Arthur, letting it calm his mind. Arthur was okay. All three of them were in this together and they’d figure it out. But right now, Arthur needed a bit of TLC.

#hetalia #a vampire a werewolf and a merman au #paranormal au #gerfruk #fruk #gereng #engger #geruk #gerfra #hws england #hws germany #hws france #merman germany #vampire france #werewolf england #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing

15 notes · View notes

littlefreya · 4 years ago

Text

As I was saying

Summary: You recently found out that you’re pregnant and Henry is being all sorts of over-protective and annoying about it and won’t shut up about what you should or shouldn’t eat. So you find a creative way to shut him up...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity thought it’s mention that Henry is taller)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, RPF, fluff to smut, early pregnancy, blow job, bodily fluids, slight FemDom/SubMale, My overuse of poetic sex metaphors, cottagecore!

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts from it.

A/N: This story was born out of a convo I had with my sweet @the-soot-sprite about the photo above. Many thanks to @agniavateira my solid rock who betas all my work and to @firefly-graphics for the dividers

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my story. I work hard on each one of them and your validation means the world to me. 🖤

As I was Saying

Henry’s velvety voice carried through the cottage like seductive vapours of honey liqueur. It wasn’t often that he'd sing a blissful tune so casually out of the blue—after earth-shattering sex perhaps, which indeed you had the night before. However, this morning, his chants were laced with a new flavour of sugary bliss.

Two little pink stripes. That's all it took for his eyes to shimmer the way precious cobalt is kissed by a moonlight glow.

Sneaking about in the mien of a curious little mouse, you trod after the pleasant tune of his voice, which was now accompanied by a soft rustle. Wander laved your face once you leaned against the kitchen door frame, peering at the prodigious man who stood in front of the open fridge.

Preoccupied, he appeared to be ransacking through the shelves with the song ‘Cheek to Cheek’ thrumming on his tongue.

“Heaven... I'm in heaven…”

Fingers clutching at the edge of the wall, you pressed into the chilled surface with a relaxed smirk, lingering on the irresistible view when your ease of mind faded with a blink of an eye — while methodically rummaging through the fridge, Henry threw fresh food straight into an open trash can.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice rising to a high-pitched yip.

Henry made a soft flex; the muscles of his back rippled in a tidal motion. Though acknowledging your presence, he proceeded to hover a finger over different products.

“Cleaning up the fridge," he answered absentmindedly.

With a soft shove, there went your French cheese.

“That’s brand new!” you protested and rushed toward him, alarmed.

Towering over the trash can, you considered diving in to salvage the precious bulk of cheese from the dreary pit. Henry glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, testing your resolve while his claw grabbed some papaya salad leftovers and pushed it over the edge of the shelf, joining the rest of the discarded meals.

“It is,” he nodded and closed the refrigerator door, carrying on to the high cabinets. With a slight wrinkle between his brows and a hand scratching the stubbles of his dimpled chin, he narrowed his eyes to scrutinise the items carefully. “I'm pregnant-proofing the kitchen. I called Hanna while you were asleep. She created a proper daily menu for you with the dos and don’ts: less sugar, more veggies and protein.”

It took you a moment to process his words, your eyes narrowing while asking, “Hanna? As in Hanna, your nutritionist?”

Henry nodded at your question, a faint crease lining his cheek. “That’s the one. Don't worry, princess, she specialises with pregnant women.”

Unwittingly, a somewhat inhuman growl sounded in your chest. You were only getting used to the idea of developing another person inside you, and here stood your husband, already seeing fit to dictate your diet. Slithering into the narrow space between the heavy man and the counter, you tilted your chin to meet his stare while your fists pressed into your hips assertively.

“Listen here, Cavill! You might have jizzed me one too many and succeeded in putting a baby in there, but this is still my body. I can take care of my own pregnancy diet.”

With an arm stretched above your head, Henry offered a charming display of pearly whites to pacify your strained nerves. His dimples nearly managed to beguile your senses when your eyes flared at the sight of what was held between his long fingers.

“No! Henry, no! Not the coffee!”

“Oh, I’m afraid so, my love. You shouldn’t have any caffeine at your current state.” Despite his argument, the tenderness of his gaze stroked upon your face like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Lazily it dropped to your belly, the cascading heat cradling your unborn child.

Words of protest left you for a sliver of a moment, too in awe of the dreamy grin on his face.

Thoughts of how beautiful you’d look rounded and full with his child illuminated him that you swore his skin developed a glow over the night. Didn’t they always say women are radiant when they are pregnant? Well, it seemed that in your case, it applied to your husband as well.

The charming haze of bliss almost swallowed you up; but you quickly slapped yourself back into reality, reaching a hand in an attempt to stop Henry from throwing away your delicacy. Though taller, Henry held his hand far out of reach, a hint of a smugness stretching his lips.

“A pregnant woman is allowed to have a little bit of caffeine!” You muttered and sent both hands in an attempt to retrieve the box while Henry teased you by throwing it from one hand to the other, further fueling your annoyance.

Vexed to the point of frustration, you stood still and sighed, “you know what else is bad for the baby?”

Henry paused his foolish games and tilted his head as he waited to hear your answer.

“His father at the morgue after I’ll kill him. Now stop that and hand it over! A pregnant woman can have a cup a day, according to Google.”

“Nope,” Henry clicked his tongue, his laughter replaced with a severe stare. “Love, I know they say it’s okay to have a teeny bit, but I’ve been doing some research while you were asleep, and it’s not recommended. Caffeine increases heart rate and blood pressure, which is not good for you nor for the baby. It also increases urination, which may cause dehydration.”

Clenching your jaw at the onslaught of information he bestowed, you watched his lips move while none of his words registered. Preoccupied with the rules of a “healthy” pregnancy, Henry was set on being the practical one, completely forgetting to enjoy the moment. And damn, it was the moment to celebrate. All you wanted right now was to stay in bed for a day, ride your handsome husband to hell and back and eat as much ice cream as possible.

“Everything you eat from now on goes to our baby,” Henry proceeded to lecture on a thing you were perfectly aware of.

Ire found you within seconds, embroiled with pregnancy hormones which made him further intolerable at the moment— intolerable

... and delicious.

Soaked with hunger, your eyes raked his sight: the thickness of his muscles was apparent beneath a plain black t-shirt and those good old grey sweats outlined the source of your current predicament. Your fingers twitched just from thinking about it, mimicking the sensation of squeezing its girth and eliciting those low groans that made your heart flutter.

But his chatter still interrupted your sultry thoughts. If only there was a way to get him to shut up, you mused. Then your eyes focused on the soft bulge that winked back at your hungry glare.

Unaware, Henry turned toward the table to grab a bulk of informative documents he printed earlier in order to educate you of your pregnancy, he licked his thumb and began to read through, “As I was saying….”

Hastily, you exploited his lack of attention and took a step forward, your fingers latching around the hem of his sweats. With one swift movement, you fell to your knees and tugged his trousers along.

Lost in his passionate speech, Henry was still muttering nonsense when your hand seized him; but as the lushness of your tongue bedded his soft cock without warning, all that could be heard in the kitchen was a husky gasp.

Feeling the warm silky flesh swell and harden within your mouth, you sent your eyes up to peer at him, admiring the sight. Nothing spoke of your power better than the wrinkle between his shut eyes and his mouth agape with all air draining from his lungs. There you were, lowered to your knees with a maw full of his cock and yet, he was the one who lost his ability to speak and had his legs quaking of need.

Unable to help yourself, you sent one palm to feel the tremor that ran through the muscles of his thighs while the other cradled his heavy sac.

“Uh……” he finally managed to utter, a groan of bemused bliss pushing itself between his parted lips. “What… what are you doing?”

You crooked an eyebrow in response and answered by dragging your mouth along the length of his shaft. Your pillowy lips ran across ridges and thrumming veins, your jaw loosening until you felt him deep in the back of your throat.

Locked in the cavernous cage of your maw, he tightened his gut and shuddered with pleasure. Though, the low unbridled groans that sputtered from his chest fueled your enticement just as so; memories of how the same thick girth that brimmed your mouth would split open your narrow canal made both your eyes and abandoned cunt tear of desperation.

It always beguiled you how much arousal could be found in bringing him to his rapture without touching yourself. The harder he throbbed on your velvety serpent, the more you soaked.

With fervent strokes, you feasted on the briny flavour of his cock; the tendons vibrated with bliss while your tongue twirled and pushed around them. You pulled, sucked, and pumped him in your warm mouth, milking the senses of a man infinitely stronger—a man who succeeded in conquering your womb yet now crumbled to nothing at the touch of your tongue.

“Fuck…. Babe… keep going,” Henry breathed out a plea. The documents held by his hand slipped between his fingers as he pressed his palm to the cabinet with a thud, and began to rock his hips back and forth to fuck back into your mouth. Like feathers, the white slips floated around you, landing onto the ground while you worked him to his ecstasy.

His other hand found your head, caressing lovingly and trying to take control: yet his strength waned and his head fell back with a moan. Faster, harder, you sucked your husband to the point of submission while hums of admiration laced around his rigid length. Your eyes beamed as you watched his resolve shatter. Your fingertips toyed with the coarse hair at the apex of his thighs, your thumb seeking the tendon at the base of his cock and pressing into it, urging him to spill his gift down your throat.

“I’m going to… I’m going to…. In your throat… fuck.”

With a guttural grunt, he thickened against your tongue; the overflow of salty-sweet cream glazed your mouth and then flowed down your flaring throat.

The room thrummed with the buzz of the refrigerator, Henry’s heavy exhales - these were the sounds of your triumph. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you cracked a smile and neatly pulled his trousers back on before you rose to stand straight.

Overwhelmed and drenched in sweat, your husband scrutinised you while you reached for the box of capsules and tilted your head.

“You were saying?”

#henry cavill rpf #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

tsuukirana · 3 years ago

Text

𝟎𝟑 | 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

You were the shining light that brought upon him a hope that others could only receive by worshipping a higher being, but here you are, in front of him, guiding him, and loving him. You were the inspiration for something so great that you might describe it as world domination, but Yohan Seo would say he is surrendering it to you.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈: 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

“I. . . don’t know.” He said, staring off into space as he was left to rot on the cold ground of his school. He could smell the awful scent of metal through his battered nose, the long strings of crimson leaking from the ends of his nostrils like trickling water. The warmth that had been contained in his body was slowly pooling out, the color growing dark as it dried with the cold winter breeze. He was unable to feel the pain that came from another man’s fists, but he wished it could have stayed that way for long. A bruise quickly bloomed on the side of his cheek, the skin fading into a sickly purple color that stained his snow-white skin.

For a fraction of a second, he felt lightless. It felt as if he had drifted off into the open skies, flying alongside the soft clouds that brushed against his numb fingers. It felt like a new home, a place in which he could share his struggle quietly alongside those who drifted close to him, never too far away but never too close to him. He wanted to stay there for as long as he could as if he even had a choice in that matter. Though his hopes seemed short as he was ripped from the skies and brought to the harsh, cruel reality of his circumstances. It faded away like snowflakes, he always thought, perhaps it was hopeless and foolish of him to even consider the possibility of escapism.

Could this have been his punishment? He wished to know so desperately that he sought out the answers through any means possible despite his anguish. What could he have done in his previous life to deserve growing up in an unloving home, one with no arm to run into, or joyous eyes to look into, where else could he have been instead of here? The only thing he thought he had for himself was his looks, and it made it slightly easier on him to seduce local women into giving him a grain of food, but it was almost near useless to boys who were twice his size, and double in muscle. Such thoughts led to him feeling rather empty on the inside, with his bones rattling with every movement of his body and his face much too damaged to see any light within those eyes of his. Deep within, there was a void that was growing. It was insatiable as it devoured anything along its path. He didn’t know what he could do to fill its rumbling hunger, and it was beginning to eat away at his flesh from inside.

“This fucker, you really don’t know what you did wrong?”

Of course, he didn’t. He never understood what he had to do or done to deserve such a punishment. He just did what was told and if something were to steer off course then it was never his fault, he never intended for it to be that way and yet God played the wrong cards to him. His classmate swiped at the smoke that was radiating off of the tip of his cigarette, his annoyance grew deep when his questions were constantly met with the meek boy’s voice crying out in confusion. He just wanted a simple answer but perhaps he has grown likeful of the regretful apologies and empty line of words that the boy spattered. Though he could also argue that such a response made him rather peeved.

His friends only dug his hands deeper into his pocket, dissatisfied with the course of action the boy chose to take. His eyes glared down at the pitiful student who leaned the weight of his body against his skinny, trembling arms that threatened to break underneath it all. The sight was horrific, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t help but bury himself deeper into his ego, shielding himself from the thought that one day, he might end up like that as well. To him, this boy was nothing more but an example that everyone took part in setting. He refused to back down on the creation that he made, and he would hold his head up high if it meant that he could avoid a similar fate if he were to speak. “This is a problem, whatcha’ guys gonna do?”

“I don’t know either.” He replied, making a look of disgust with his brace-covered teeth before he rose to his feet. For a split second, he raised it high enough to slam against the shoulder of the black-haired student, “I’ve beaten him up for one year and I still don’t know.” His tone was one of mocking, his smile never caving in just once for a moment of pity. The boy coughed in pain as he moved forward, shielding his head with one of his weak arms for however long his punishment lasted.

“It feels fucking good to beat this fucker up!” Such words echoed in the halls that they began to ring in his ears like a never-ending church bell, one that was too loud and lasted too long. He grits his teeth as he struggled to pull himself together, trying to keep his body from splitting apart from the inside and outside.

He was wincing with every hit and swore in his mind that he couldn’t take any more. His hand was laid outstretched on the empty ground for a moment, allowing someone else to take the opportunity to crush his vein and knuckles with the heel of their shoe. Blood decorated the ground like spilled wine, the color dripping into the cracks of the white school ground. It moved across the floor like a snake, dragging itself pitifully in an attempt for safety.

Streaks of hot tears poured out of his eyes, leaking like an overboiled tea kettle threatening to break. He was unable to raise his arms to continue shielding his face from any more bruises, his body much too weak and fragile to keep up a strong façade. His skin was breaking apart like sheets of paper. His being was soaked in water to bind himself, only to be dried out in the hot sun to become brittle sand that was close to breaking apart like the castles near the ocean waters. He was a fragile being that was simply made to be glued together and broken, a disfigurement to the body of a human and a disgrace to those he encountered.

. . . And yet it seemed like God had finally rolled a seven.

The other students rushed out of the halls with curses dripping from the edges of their lips, the smell of tobacco whiffling through the air as to remind him of who came before. They dispersed like mosquitoes who were caught sucking blood, their wings flapping behind them as they eagerly fled the scene. And though his eyes were bruised beyond his own beliefs, he could barely make out the sight in front of him.

What was left of the scene was a pair of shoes that stood in front of him, one that was fairly average size with legs that were of feminine stature. And while he wished he could bring himself up to his feet to meet them at eye-level, he stayed resting on the ground, finally able to catch his breath after all this time. He could hear the girl huffing alongside him as if she had run a marathon across the school, her breaths coming out shallow but her voice stood locked in her throat.

She knelt on one knee, bringing herself down to his level. Through the cracks of his eyes could he see the beauty that she radiated up close. Her eyes were shining so brightly with life, he said to himself, it was so sweet that he swore that it was alluring. It could have been a secret made by the two of them, for him to see such captivating eyes. She brought her hand in front of him, looking at him with not the cruel hatred that he had grown accompanied to, but through her (e/c) orbs did she express her pity and sympathy for him. Her (h/c) hair leaned itself forward, spilling over her shoulders like a stream of water. These locks became something he yearned for later in life, he wished to continue seeing the way the cold breeze broke apart the masses to allow her strands to swing peacefully alongside its wind.

Could it be that God had finally listened to his pleas? He didn’t have the strength to believe that this was real. Was this an angel sent down to dispose of him or were they here to deliver a message of salvation? Whatever the case was, he was glad to see that there was at least someone who had noticed the silent cry that emitted from him. For a moment, such thoughts led to him feeling a sense of disgust flowing through his veins, but it quickly dissipated when she smiled so whole-heartedly.

“Are you okay?” Her rosy pink lips said, with a voice so soft and gentle that he could swear that it was a bird’s song.

#♰ ─── Collection I #unholy blood #unholy blood x reader #yohan seo #yohan seo x reader

62 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 4 years ago

Text

Getting tall

Summary: Damian finally hits his growth spurts and the fam have opinions. Some damijon, timkon, jaytemis, and dickori mentioned.

Damian was an adorable tiny murder baby when he first showed up at the manor. Like a feral kitten. Short end of normal growth at 10 years old and thin too, Dr Leslie found. Make sure he eats 3 square meals and snacks when he wants and he’ll be just fine. Alfred had made it his mission, as he had done for both Jason and Tim, to put weight on Damian.

The first family member he outgrew was Cass. She reached over to ruffle his hair only to reach up above her head rather than below it. She didn’t mind. 5’4 isn’t very tall. She’d just have to remember that the next time they spar. Height wasn’t an important factor to her.

It was a few months later that Damian hit a massive growth spurt and grew 4 inches. He passed by 5’6 Stephanie.

“Hey little dude. What are they puttin in your food, miracle grow?” She asked when she noted how tall he was and how big his feet had gotten. Damian was a bit like the giant puppies all gangly. Alfred was adjusting the Robin costume monthly after Damian rushed to put it on for patrol one day and every time he raised his arms he felt his stomach show. Clothes were constantly being bought that met his newest height increase. The Kents were very appreciative of the barely worn clothing Jon got as Damian went through another pair.

“I’m perfectly normal in growth,” he said pulling on the hem of his shirt that was growing shorter by the day. Stephanie eyed him but left it. Tim hated the height jokes they would make when everyone started passing him in height. Nowadays Tim just rolled his eyes and deferred all short jokes to Bart who Damian was now taller than. Bart didn’t care at all because he was short but he was also at least top 3 faster people ever so who cares right?

For a very short time, Damian was taller than Jon. He liked that. Jon thought it was pretty funny.

“D, I’m going to be taller. My dad and mom are both taller than yours. I’ll be taller in the end,” Jon said with a grin before Damian pushed him off the roof. Jon giggled and stared at Damian with obvious heart eyes. The kid was definitely smitten.

Tim was half an inch taller. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way. But it wasn’t surprising. His mother was tiny, his father lower end of average, and Tim probably skipped too many meals with working during an important growth phase while he was becoming Robin. 5’8.5 is a perfectly normal height for a man. He had an easier time with stealth.

Bruce watched as his son grew more handsome and taller everyday. He recognized things he hadn’t taken the time to see with Dick or Jason and had missed completely with Tim. Aftershave, cologne, and deodorant budget went up exponentially and Damian was barred from bringing any of his shoes in the house and his Robin uniform had to double washed occasionally. He spent far longer in the bathroom doing his hair and agonizing over any spot on his face.

Bruce even once caught Damian do the lean on the doorframe while talking to someone they like when Jon visited once. He had to give the worst birds and bees talk of all time. Bruce also noted how Damian had Talia’s nose and his lip curled the same way hers did when he smiled. He stretched when walking to the breakfast table the same way Dick did.

Damian didn’t get another true growth spurt for 2 years. There was plenty of jokes that he jumped up to his height and didn’t move again. Jon was once again taller than Damian. Alfred was ready this time with the massive amount of food the 15 year old could put away and panels in his costume for easier adjustments.

Talia smiled proudly at her son as he grew taller than her. He was turning out handsome like his father but kept her feature and in her mind, that was the perfect combo. She never told Damian because she didn’t him to grow arrogant.

Dick didn’t notice it right away. He was so busy with Bludhaven and the Titans that he didn’t notice Damian had gotten a full inch taller than him. He only realized when him and Damian practiced a complex move that required a taller and shorter partner while training. They paired up as they always did and the maneuver completely fell apart. Dick was mentally putting together why it failed when Damian walked over and it clicked. Little D was not so little anymore.

“You’re taller than me,” he said brightly. Damian immediately grinned.

“So now you’re little D,” Damian said back. Dick laughed at that one.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I can throw you around like a tilt-a-whirl,” Dick warned. Of course, that’s exactly what happened the next time they sparred when Damian tried to use his height advantage.

“I can beat Jason so don’t think you can beat me just by being bigger,” Dick said standing over Damian who rolled his eyes.

Dick had no problem with Damian getting taller. It was his own height he had a complicated relationship with. See, Dick grew up as an acrobat. Being tall is a disadvantage. More weight to swing, more body to move. And his father had told him growing up that almost every Grayson man has been 5’8. It’s a legacy as strong as flying above the circus crowd.

And so when at 15, Dick was very distraught with the fact that he hadn’t stopped growing at 5’8. It felt like a part of his history and family legacy had died. He wasn’t one of the 5’8 Grayson men. He never told anyone beside Kori, late at night where she told him she loved him tall or small. She had already far outpaced Dick and was on her way to being 6’4.

Duke and Alfred and Damian were the same height for a short while. Duke would joke that he could just wear the Robin’s costume since they were the same size. Damian would threaten to disembowel him if he touched it and that made Duke laugh even more.

When he grew taller Duke once again joked with Damian calling him a not so jolly green giant and Alfred considered his nutrition attempt a complete success. Damian went from a tiny kid to a tall strong young man.

Damian and Jon were practically the same size for a while. Jon barely bent his neck to rest his chin on Damian’s shoulder as his partner worked on a complex mechanical part. Then Jon hit another growth spurt to end in his final height of 6’2, same as Bruce and his father. Damian enjoyed having a taller boyfriend for a while but would never say anything. High school dances were nice.

Bruce could see Damian getting taller and stronger and was practically grown. Dr Leslie warned Bruce that growth could continue until Damian was in his early 20s and he could end up a quite tall young man or stop tomorrow.

Jason liked being the tallest and biggest in the family. He had an entire inch in height on Bruce and was at least 20 lbs heavier. He was built like tank. When Jason had died at 15, he was terrifyingly thin. Alfred had tried his best but Jason had suffered malnutrition and hunger from practically birth. He was short and thin and Dr Leslie had told Bruce he probably always would be. And so when Jason came back to life a giant 6’3 and over 200 lbs, it was a shock. It took him forever to accept his size as anything more than an amour to create fear in his enemies. The first time he had accidentally scared a woman walking in the street at night, Jason had hated that he was so big. But within his family, it had become a source of pride. He was certainly taller than Dick and Alfred and even Bruce.

So when he visited Cass’s birthday party and Jason stood next to Damian and realized that the kid was taller than him, he was a little shocked. Damian had reached his final height of 6’4.

“When the hell did you get so big?” Jason asked while cake was being served. Dick nosed in the conversation.

“Little D is taller than you now,” he said with a teasing grin at Jason.

“And yet you insist on calling me Little D,” Damian said with an eye roll.

“I call him Big D,” Jon said with a smile. Dick blanched and Jason coughed out an awkward laugh.

“Good for you, bro,” he said patting Damian on the back. Jon blushed at the sudden understanding.

“No! I mean- he’s taller than me. I didn’t mean- uh,” Jon stuttered. Damian grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away from his brothers who were laughing.

“It’s weird you know,” Jason admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“The fact that he is dating Jon?”

“No, they’ve been together forever. That he’s taller than me,” Jason said.

“Are you- does it bother you that you aren’t the tallest?” Dick asked with a gleeful smile.

“No,” Jason said abruptly.

“It could be like how I learned my little brother was bigger than me,” Dick teased. “All of a sudden you were just massive. My tiny little brother was this big dude. Good thing I’m comfortable with my masculinity.”

“Your girlfriend is like 6 inches taller than you. If that isn’t emasculating then there’s nothing I could do,” Jason answered.

“Yeah, she’s always been taller than me,” Dick said with a fond smile. “You can’t talk with the Amazon you’ve been hanging with.” He pushed Jason’s shoulder with a grin.

“We’re just friends-I guess,” Jason said uncomfortable. “That’s not the same-“

“Well at least Tim will always be our little brother,” Dick changed the subject but mentally noted Jason’s reaction to the mention of Artemis.

“Yeah, he’ll always be a shrimp,” Jason agreed.

“Honestly fuck you both,” Tim said from across the room. With Kon standing next to him he certainly looked tiny.

“Hey, it’s my birthday and I am the shortest and I can still kick all of your butts,” Cassandra reminded them both and they laughed but neither corrected her because they knew she was right.

535 notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 3 years ago

Text

Just One - John Winchester smut

The one where John has been obsessed with killing you but now that he found you...

Warnings: smut, as close to hatefucking as I can write, witch!reader, masturbation (f), oral (m, f), dirty talk, degradation laced with praise?, hairpulling kink, namecalling (bitch, whore), John wants it to hurt, slight size kink (blink and you’ll miss), p in v, spanking, biting, unprotected sex, cumplay, unspecified age gap

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: This one is a part of my kinktober celebrations. My original intention for this October was to work exclusively around prompts that my wonderful friend @darkficsyouneveraskedfor created for her challenge and dedicate each story to a different friend. My new plan became then 31 days of different kinks, which expanded on a poly relationship with Stucky, as you might know by now. However, some of the stories I started were already truly loved by me, and so I kept on writing them. It worked well because as it turns out, I am fortunate enough to have more than 31 friends on Tumblr, so here is the story I wrote for @negans-attagirl. This most likely celebrates my last time writing for John! Special thanks to my @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for reading this even though she’s not really into Supernatural! I love you for it!

I knew he was there. Watching. I’d been running away from him for so long, it felt like second nature now - to look over my shoulder, hold my breath when a stranger got too close. Watch the shadows and see if they took the form of a well-built man who wanted nothing more than to see me dead.

But I didn’t just wait around for my inevitable ending, oh no. I’d studied him just as much as he did to me, prepared myself for what was to come as I fled the state and traveled borders in the hopes of throwing him off. I concocted potions and spells and thought about everything I could do to him whenever he found me again.

Most of all, I thought of him. How could I not? Not only was he my main concern in this life, but the man was just walking sin. And if I were to go down, I was determined to at least go down on him before he killed me.

So I slowly left the diner across from the motel I’d been hiding in for the last three weeks and returned to my room, making sure to leave the door unlocked while I took off my clothes. The sound of the door closing behind me wasn’t unmistakable, and we both knew that. “Feel like joining me?” I asked as I sat down on the bed and spread my legs for his eyes, my hand traveling down my body, playing with my nipples before settling between my thighs. He didn’t look confused, not even for a moment.

This sexual tension between us, it’d never been one-sided. It was there from the beginning, electrifying our interactions as desire swirled in the air around us. I was convinced it was the main reason why he couldn’t just let me go.

He leaned his head to the side, but didn’t say anything. He was too focused on what I was doing, the way my fingers rubbed my clit before dipping inside my hole only to come back up wetter, the sounds of my actions filling the air around us.

“I don’t see why not.” The words sent a thrill up my spine, and without even stopping to consider what I was doing, I dropped to my knees before him, reaching out for his jeans. “Can’t let you get off all by yourself.”

I hummed appreciatively as I stuck out my tongue to lick the red head of his cock, already intoxicated with his taste. “Such a gentleman… even when you’re planning to kill me.” His chuckle was like thunder, reverberating through me and making my clit throb as I wrapped my lips around his member.

“It would be a waste if I didn’t put this pretty mouth to work.” His thumb brushed against my lower lip until I licked it and enveloped it with my mouth, making him groan. “So fucking warm. I’m gonna enjoy filling this hole with my cock.”

His words had me clenching around nothing, the overwhelming wetness that dripped from me now slathering the inside of my thighs, no doubt reaching the floor. It made me desperate to please him, desperate to fill my mouth with his cock.

So I wrapped my lips around the head of his member and began sucking, at first looking up to see his darkened, lust-filled eyes before actually closing mine to fully appreciate his taste, the weight of him on my tongue.

I licked every single inch of his skin until my saliva coated his member. It was a beautiful cock, a cock that deserved to be worshiped. I wasn’t one to enjoy being on my knees too much, but his thickness was just too tempting. I needed to pay it the proper respects.

So I took him as well as I could, ignoring the way tears rose to my eyes as I willingly choked myself on his cock, trying my best to breathe through my nose in an effort to reach his navel.

I wasn’t able to. But he didn’t seem to mind, hand wrapped around my hair, forcing my movements as I slobbered all over his dick. “Such a good little cocksucker…” he absentmindedly commented, almost to himself.

“Were you expecting me?” I looked up to see him looking down at me, actually waiting for an answer. So I pulled away, wiped the spit from my jaw before replying honestly, “Always.”

Because, well… How could I sleep peacefully without thinking about the man who wanted to kill me?

But his answer was a chuckle and an almost condescending head pat, his deep warm voice making me even wetter when he complimented, “Good girl.” God, he could kill me right now. I’d go willingly and happily.

I eagerly sucked him off a bit longer, losing myself in the almost-sounds that I could pick up from his body: the little groans and pants, the way he cleared his throat instead of growling his desire for me. He wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t show his satisfaction to a little witch.

I could live with that.

“Stop that.” His words were accompanied by a harsh tug on my hair, pulling me up until I was standing on my tip toes, my face mere inches from his. “Wanna fuck you now. I can kill you tomorrow.”

The fact that he never kissed me didn’t escape me. This was a quick fuck, it would not be mistaken as anything else. Still, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t drag as much fun out of it as I possibly could… especially considering these might very well be my last hours of living.

“So you want me?” I questioned, smirking at his answering huff. He didn’t want to admit it, of course - that would be recognizing I had some sort of power over him. So he opted to tighten his grip on my hair until I moaned from the pleasurable pain, eyes sparkling in their darkness as he took in just how desperate I was for him.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he settled for saying as I laughed. “Always a fucking tease. Is your cunt as bitter as your soul, brat?” I bit my lip as he threw me on the bed, already anticipating his next move.

“Find out for yourself.” His expression made it clear that he was doubtful when he tore off my underwear and threw the scraps of it over his shoulder, pulling me to the edge of the bed by my ankles without much care.

He pressed on the inside of my thighs to keep my legs spread for him, and when his tongue licked a line up my cunt, I clenched around nothing, eyes closing for just a second to relish in the barely-there sensation.

“Oh, fuck…” His voice was barely over a whisper, but I still heard it and when I opened my eyes to look at him, he was staring directly at his meal, like he couldn’t believe what he had just tasted. “So fucking sweet…”

He went back there with a newfound hunger, and although I knew he wasn’t doing this to make me cum, I also knew he would achieve that - easily. It didn’t take many of his long swipes over my hole, the twirls around my clit to make me gasp for him, hands flying down to pull on his hair.

I think the only reason he didn’t slap them away was because he seemed to like the slight sting I provided him.

“Fucking cum, bitch,” he growled at some point, surprising me until he revealed why it was that he wanted me to orgasm. “I want to drink all of your essence before I shove my cock into you, make sure it’ll really sting.”

But I knew it was more than that - I knew he wanted more of my taste. It was everywhere now, dripping from his beard, smearing the inside of my thighs, but he kept his eyes focused on me, waiting for my breaking point.

I saw embers of flames when it arrived. Maybe it predicted my death at the stake, but I couldn’t mind it. Not when John was rising to his full height and very easily turning me around to lay on my stomach, keeping my legs dangling off the edge of the bed when he kicked them apart.

I was trapped under his much larger body and I didn’t mind it at all. He shoved my face against the bed, like he didn’t want to see it as he slowly started to stretch me out.

I bit my lower lip as I struggled to adjust around his thickness, and by the sounds John was releasing, I could see he was just as overwhelmed by me and the pussy he wanted to destroy.

I couldn’t believe how good it felt to be ravished by John Winchester. No one had ever fucked me like this before, and I was sure he knew, with the melodic moans that kept slipping from my lips, try as I might to reel them in.

“Those fucking sounds…” He groaned behind me, seconds before his hand landed harshly on the right cheek of my ass, making me whine even louder. “You’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?”

I was too far gone to even try to deny it, fucking myself back against his delicious thick cock, desperate to cum again, this time feeling completely full of him.

“Who would have thought…” He panted, hips maintaining their onslaught against me. “Nasty fucking witch, such a tight little pussy.” Each word was accompanied by a particularly brutal thrust and I relished in it. I relished in witnessing the great John Winchester get carried away because of my body.

“Fuck,” he cursed after he managed to locate my sweet spot, which in turn had me instinctively clenching around him. “Why do you feel so fucking good?”

Under him, I just giggled, my hand easily locating the spot above where we were connected so I could rub myself to an orgasm. “I’m convinced you’re the devil, little witch.”

Stifling a laugh, I started to move my hips back so I could fuck myself on him, showing him how I liked to be treated - even harder and rougher than he was already treating me. And because I really was a brat, I couldn’t help but taunt, “Do you feel sorry you have to destroy it?”

I knew he understood I was referring to my pussy, and when his hand slapped mine away so he could take over the motions over my clit, I closed my eyes to let bliss take me.

“Almost,” he grunted, a confession I almost lost in the fog of my high. But here lied an opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away without a fight.

“I mean… you could just keep it,” I offered, barely over a whisper so as not to anger the man who kept fucking me. I didn’t want him to stop his movements, so I hoped even if he did get pissed at my suggestion, he’d just take it out on me. “Use it whenever you want.”

I didn’t get a response from him - at least, not verbally. But he did speed up his movements, pounding me so hard the bed started to hit the wall and I knew we were seconds away from having the neighbors banging on it, telling us to keep it down, but I couldn’t care less.

Not when John was burying his face in the crook of my neck, beard tickling me as he bit on my shoulder to keep his roar from reverberating in the room when he shot his cum deep inside of me.

He didn’t wait even a second before pulling out. I missed his weight on top of me, but the feeling of his cum slowly slipping from my used pussy was enough to give me some comfort.

“Shit, I really opened you up, huh?” He chuckled, rubbing his cream around my hole before pushing it back into me, making me whine. “I’m still fucking hard. Did you put a spell on me, brat?”

I laughed as he massaged my ass, apparently incapable of fully retreating his touch from my skin. “Is that why I’m still aroused?” He insisted, rutting his very much, still hard member against my thigh. “Tell me.”

Stretching, I giggled at his silly accusation. “I think I just turn you on, old man,” I teased, wiggling my ass at him. He took the bait and spanked it, before I felt his weight leave the bed altogether.

“Well, I’m going to take a shower, wash you off of me,” he explained, stopping at the door of the bathroom to stare at me. “You better be there when I come out,” he warned and I bit my lip, understanding exactly what he meant.

“I don’t think I can walk if I tried,” I giggled, but he just tipped his head back, humming noncommittally. Before long, I heard the shower turning on, the sound of the water running down the drain almost lulling me to sleep.

I made sure to leave my panties right next to the note I wrote for him to find when he got out of the shower. Three simple words, a promise: “Until next time”.

#my fics #john winchester smut #john winchester #smut #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfic #john winchester fanfics

393 notes · View notes

yuedama · 4 years ago

Text

at your mercy

hard dom!yelena x gn!reader (female bodied)

synopsis : you loved being good for yelena, but sometimes you couldn't deny the fact that you enjoyed her putting you in your place just as much.

content : nsfw, degradation, clit slapping, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial ; use of the word 'pet' like once

notes : jus want yelena to be mean to me and tell me i'm nothing

yelena hated having you come to her as she finished her work til the late hours of the night. it was distracting, she says, and you would only become a reason for her to be irresponsible.

there are times though when she considered it a test of your patience. and, well, restraint.

during the nights when you were needier than usual, she loved seeing just how long you would last without any of her attention, how long you could keep yourself from being bad and eventually touching yourself.

it was a tough game for you, but yelena enjoyed every bit of it; from the flustered look on your face as she catches you breaking the rules she had so carefully set, to the mewls and whimpers you gave her as you pleaded for her forgiveness.

she hated having to discipline you for your ill behavior, for she expected you to be good for her always, but she also wouldn't be lying if she were to admit how titillating it was to see you all sullied and glistening like a whore beneath her, rambling repeatedly about how sorry you were and that you wouldn't do it ever again. something about it fed the sadistic hunger inside her.

tonight was like one of those nights.

“what did i tell you about coming to my office while i'm working?” steel eyes bore into your meek form, menacing and unforgiving, yet lustful and hungry at the same time as she drank in every inch of your skin that was revealed by the skimpy nightdress you wore.

“that i would only distract you and that i should wait in our bedroom like a good pet....”

“and what are you doing right now?” her voice, despite being stern and cold with anger, did nothing to intimidate you, if anything, it only fanned the flames of excitement burning in your stomach.

“i-im...please, 'lena, i need you,” glossy eyes looked up at the blonde, silently hoping she would see the desperation behind them. she did see, she could tell without even looking at you for she knew you like the back of her hand; knew just how to reduce you into nothing but a filthy mess begging for her touch like it was all you've ever known. “need you so bad!”

“poor little thing,” mock pity laced her voice as she leaned back into her chair and rolled her eyes, resting her chin on her hand to take a good look at you once more. it took everything in yelena to not pin you down on the wooden table and devour you right then and there, the thin fabric hanging loosely on your body left little to the imagination.

“have you no dignity?”

you could only shake your head timidly at them, the ache in between your legs only seeming to become more intense with each passing second.

“c'mere.” they growled, low voice echoing in the room, but you were far too lost in your thoughts to hear her the first time. “i said come here you fucking slut.”

you scampered towards the woman and made yourself comfortable on her lap, peering at her eagerly as your hands held her shoulders for support. however, your fingers were slapped away from her shirt as soon as they got there, causing you to retract them as a stinging sensation bloomed.

“don't touch me with your filthy hands,” yelena seethed into your face, the tone in their voice making you rub your clothed cunt against her thigh.

“'m sorry...” your apology was sincere, but yelena seemed to have none of it. her stare remained indifferent, though you were sure you saw the slightest glint in them as she bent you over her lap. you let out a yelp at the sudden action, but as you peered up at her you were greeted by an all too familiar, condescending smirk.

“you're being very bad, you know that?” she drawled as she slowly, teasingly, traced a finger down the curve of your back, gripping the flesh of your ass harshly before pulling your underwear down to your ankles. goosebumps arose on your skin as the cool air in their office kissed your dripping cunt.

“stepping into my office looking all desperate to get fucked—” a slap made its way to your clit, causing a loud smack to resound in the room, followed by your shaky whimpers. the bud burned from the impact, but god did the burn feel so satisfying.

“putting your hands on me without my permission—” squeals tumbled out of your mouth as you receive another smack, the painful sensation of her fingers against your clit euphoric. your limbs flailed weakly, fists clenching and unclenching as you didn't have anything to grip on.

“and now your cunt's making a mess all over my pants,” long fingers ran across your folds as yelena gathered your slick, scoffing at the way your body trembled deliciously on her lap, before pushing your juices back into your hole without notice. your body jerked forward at the sudden intrusion, hands coming to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“y-yelena...mmph...” you shut your eyes, all inhibitions flying out the window as yelena repeatedly pushed her slender fingers in and out of your deprived cunt, curling them just a bit to tease your sweet spot. hot tears spilled down your cheeks as the stimulation became overwhelming, the blonde's ministrations easing the painful ache in your core in the slightest, just enough to rouse you to your high.

“fuck,” yelena laughed at your pathetic, twitching form, a sadistic glint flashing in her eyes as she watched the way your walls eagerly sucked her fingers. “you're so fucking greedy, i can barely pull my hand from your cunt.”

she sped up her pace, the pads of their index and middle finger brushing against your spongy spot as her other hand busied itself with groping your tit, sending you into a state of delirium. the lewd squelching of your walls along with your desperate pants for air resonated in the room as you felt the knot in your abdomen close to snapping.

your legs shook violently as you shut your eyes hard til all you could see was black, toes curling as a sign of your impending climax. the tension had been built for so long, and you could finally feel your release until—

“h-ha ah, yelena!” you cried as yelena withdrew their fingers from your dripping hole, voice raspy as your throat had gone dry from all the sobbing.

“look at your pathetic hole clenching around nothing.” your body, exhausted and limp, felt flush as you looked up at her and saw the way she was eyeing your entrance like it was the most intriguing thing she'd ever seen.

“y-yelena...why'd you do that?”

“ah, the filthy whore is speaking. you think you deserve anything after disobeying my rules?” yelena turned her head to meet your eyes, fingers gripping your chin as she pushed you off her lap and made you kneel between her legs. “you should be glad i even touched you; let alone give you my time.”

your swollen lips quivered as you looked up at her, cheeks wet and red, with slick weeping out of your hole.

“i promise i'll be good! just please, let me...”

“what? spit it out, i haven't all night,” she sneered at you with no interest, as though she was seeing dishrags and not her lover who was needy for her touch.

“please, let me c-cum.” you contemplated making any promises you were uncertain you could keep, though in your state, you were practically willing to do anything just for her to get you off. “i'll do anything, 'lena.”

yelena's eyes lit up at your proposal, a wicked smile spreading across her lips as you craned your neck to gaze at her just as a subject would to their god, devoted and completely at her mercy. the rumbling of your heart against your chest was loud as you anticipated her next words, watching her longingly as she licked her lips before parting them to speak.

oh, you were in for a long night.

#yelena aot #yelena x reader #aot x reader #aot smut #yelena smut #attack on titan smut #snk smut #shingeki no kyoujin smut #yelena drabble #yelena x reader smut #snk.%!

778 notes · View notes

rumblelibrary · 4 years ago

Note

Exhibitionism and jealous sex with Zemo? 👉👈

I need him like showing off to everyone exactly who you belong to 👀

Colonel Helmut Zemo x EKO!Reader

(This is like my main land, Colonel Zemo and his favourite Lieutenant are back showing off their power dynamics to the rest of the group)

Warnings: SMUT, public sex

To stare at his lands from the above alway quieted the mind of Zemo, it brought him rest. Sokovia. That’s all they did it for. That’s all he was on that cargo plane with his squad for.

He swore to protect it, to make sure to bring it to freedom, one day. Maybe not today, maybe not without blood. But he will.

Now for the imminent problem.

To get down a small group of weapons dealers, of course the Stark Industries behind it as always, but these men were using Sokovia as land of exchange and this had to change.

His eyes travelled over you getting geared up in your tactical suit, you looked ravishing even in that. This wasn’t a mission you were needed, you were good at infiltrate, gaslighting, manipulation, you were his chess queen masked as a pawn, but he cousin’t really give you a discount for being extra good at what you do. His attention drastically shifted when another member of the team coming behind you to help as you chatted quietly. You smiled at him as he bowed lightly to say something to your ear and you smiled nodding.

Those moments before a mission, usually Zemo would spend those with you framing the important informations you have to keep in mind and instead you’re there flirting? Also, with him? Among all?

He studied the way he leaned forward, bowing his head and his facial expression. He really was going hard on you and you even let him do it. Oh, you were enjoying it, you were like a cat that moves around the ankles of a stranger to earn some undeserved food and attentions. Maybe you won’t ever pay back those attentions and yet look how he gave in for it. The chance to be the one you will celebrate the success of the mission with enough to make the man strive for it.

Then Zemo saw it, that hand resting on your hip and yet no reaction.

What game were you playing at?

Even the faint hope you were giving your comrade was irritating the Baron, you won’t celebrate with anyone but him, the rules are clear and yet you seemed up for testing the waters. You looked up and your eyes met, oh you knew. You knew you fucked up and yet you put your hand on the other man’s arm with a reassuring touch.

Then the time to put on the parachutes was on, these dealers had their headquarters in the middle of a forest and the only way to get them down was to surprise them from above in order to avoid mines and other traps.

Zemo shifted from his position to get ready himself even if that sense of uneasiness was still pestering him.

His eyes drifted back to the man, a smirk playing on his lips as you now got parted.

His friends coming closer to him giving him pats on the back and whispering things he would never allow to be said about his woman.

You were one of the first to do the jump and Zemo leaned beside you, the cold air hitting the bot of you.

“Are you sure of what you’re doing?”

You looked up at him as he pushed that question on you, there was no surprise in you. That almost made Zemo want to flip you immediately. You knew exactly what you were doing, he wasn’t misreading.

“I am” you said pulling down the mask covering your mouth, almost shouting to be heard “what about you?”

He frowned to your come back as you pulled that mask back up and jumped soon followed by the ones after you.

Zemo frowned as he took also the parachute and followed up.

The mission was hands down a success, no loss from your side and the whole place destroyed, now he will only sand a group to make sure the surrounding lands get cleaned up from any possible explosives. Back on the cargo plane Helmut looked at the team undoing their technical suits and cleaning their weapons, his eyes once more on you. As always you have been a proper sight on field. You’re not enhanced by serums in any way nor trained since you were a child. You just have it in you, that hunger, that primal instinct to do or die.

Once more, that comrade came closer to you, he talked to you quietly, whispering close to you, his way of behaving rubbing Zemo in all the wrong ways. Plus the fact you’re doing it on purpose. You are destabilising the group like this.

He called everybody’s attention as most of the group was on the seats on the sides of the plane.

“Today’s mission could be considered a success, but you were still slow” he said as the group frowned, Zemo always strived for perfection and he knew soon or later they will have to face something greater than a pair of smugglers.

“But the thing that I find most insulting of tonight’s mission is how some of you believe that they can play among the ranks”

A thick silence fell over the team, only you were still looking at him as he observed their reaction.

He let his little sentence sink in before adding “we do not mix Andalusian Horses with donkeys here”

Only a baron could do such a metaphor and you smirked lightly to yourself as he glared at you, being the closest to him in the chain of command you were beside him and he rested his back against the wall staring at you, his legs spreading.

If you had an hint of fear in your body you’d probably get worried, feel the pressure of what he was implying, of what he wanted to prove. Everyone knew there was one favourite and that was you. Not because he went easy on you, oh no, to be his favourite you had to be the hungriest and most savage of them all. The favouritism was the chance to be in his arms, beside to be his right arm.

You stood up and leaned in to look at him, he didn’t wince. Oh, he was mad you were giving hopes to the guy.

You kneeled down undoing his pants as he stared at you. Oh he wished you’d be afraid of this, but you’re not, you’re just where you wanted to be in the moment you welcomed his cock between your lips. You gave a big show indeed, you were skilled and you showed it off, you used your tongue licking striped of saliva over his cock, you even left out a soft moan as it vibrated against his sensitive skin. You hummed pleased sucking his tip softly, before going down bobbing your head.

He didn’t touch your head, he kept his hands still as he stared at you, you looked for it, asked for it, his hips snapping every now and the hitting the back of your throat.

The soft whines coming from you as he pulled his cock abruptly out and you pressed your tongue fat over the vein on it, looking for welcoming it back into your warm mouth. But that was enough already.

The rest of the group was growing restless, staring and resisting barely to start palming themselves.

“Up”

He ordered and you stood up undoing your pants pulling them down with your undergarment “You’re making a show” you whispered to him.

“You will give the show now” he assured to you gesturing you to turn around with a finger when you moved to sit on his lap “you have been looking for this, didn’t you?”

You groaned softly as he pushed his cock inside you snapping his hips hard inside you “oh, I should have prepped you, poor baby”

He cooed at you slapping your thigh as his hand moved onto your throat, your back resting against his chest as you actually bounced back his thrusts, you liked it and you weren’t holding it back.

Even if the beginning was raw you were too aroused by the whole situation, your body jerking over it in pleasure as he was blessing and punishing you with his attentions

“Tell everyone how much you like it”

“I love it” you moaned

“louder!”

You repeated is again before his hand squeezed harshly your neck, you parted your lips as he just went harder, he controlled your breathing skilfully, he swayed his hips harshly.

“You’re my bitch, let everyone hear the way you call out for more”

He growled into your ear as you held yourself up on his upper thighs, you knew you were playing a dangerous game there, you were teasing the wrong man.

But how pleasurable it was.

The whole group wasn’t letting out a word even if the air was thick, the arousal evident, the man you were teasing before just sweating his soul out for fear mixed up with excitement. That was what Helmut wanted to obtain: you’re an eye candy, but to look and not to touch.

His lips brushing over the skin of your neck, his groans resonating through you.

The way he touched you, the way he slammed into your body, changed angle and trusted more. The way his free hand touched you.

He wanted you to cum out loud. To make a mess on his lap.

There was only one man you couldn’t ever lie to and it was him, only one man held your devotion, your complete submission, the only one that you could accept something like this from without ever considering it an humiliation. It was a pack leader kind of ritual, showing the younger wolves who was the alpha through you and all of them knew you weren’t exactly a defenceless flower.

“Hel”

It was a soft whisper yours, almost strangled by the pressure he held on your neck.

He had to make you cum, it was part of showing them who you belonged to “It won’t end here”

A whisper, a promise you wished and knew he would keep as his fingers grasped over your body forcing you into a very obscene orgasm, the sounds you made could be recorded and played to torture touch starved people in jail, the other members of the group shivering in their spots. If you overacted it just to make it be heard loud and clear not even Helmut could say it.

He thrusted inside you more, once, twice until you felt him release into you and you shivered letting out a pleased moan to be full of him.

Your landing wasn’t far, the plane arrived just on time to let others stare intensely at Zemo to order to break the lines.

He didn’t satisfy them immediately. The had to see it, to see you shiver as his cum dripped on your inner thighs while still on top of him. Only when they did witnessed it, all of them he ordered them to leave.

You rested against him few moments more catching up your breath.

His hands travelling onto your body squeezing your thighs hard almost to the point of bruising you.

“You are a manipulative whore”

You chuckled “I leaned from the best”

He smirked with a soft chuckle escaping him.

“So it is reviewing time, show me what else you learned”

#helmut zemo fanfiction #colonel helmut zemo x reader #colonel helmut zemo #baron zemo fanfiction #baron zemo x y/n #baron helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #baron zemo x you #baron helmut zemo x you #baron zemo #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo smut #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo au #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo imagine

261 notes · View notes

spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t escape (the way I love you) ↬a.r

A/N: This is a repost from my old account :) @th0ttie4tommy here you go :)

Warnings: cursing, use of wooden spoon, seX, canon typical voilence-ish)

MINORS DNI

WC: 3.1K

Summary: after running away from knockemstiff, Arvin finds his way to Cincinnati and finds a girl instead.

Pairing: Arvin Russell x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Sleep didn’t come easy to Arvin now that he was hitchhiking his way to Cincinnati. Flashes of his daddy on the prayer log with his neck cut off, Lenora’s limp body hanging, the preacher bleeding his guts out and even the photograph of the whore- the Sheriff’s little sister- all played in his mind like a broken record.

Sighing, he leaned back on the seat and watched the long haired driver honk on the ongoing vehicles, the noises sending shards of pain up his skull. He really wanted to sleep, and maybe smoke a cigarette, but he didn’t want to think about the possibilities of what would happen if he slept in a random stranger’s truck.

Just the thought of sleep reminded him of the old man and the whore’s faces, making him sit up straight.

“You okay there boy?” The long haired man raised an eyebrow, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Arvin shook his head, wincing at the movement as his sore body struggled to not give in to the strong pull of sleep.

“I’m good. How far away are we from the city?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he saw the Sheriff’s car go past them.

“We have a long way to go. Why don’t you take a shut eye meanwhile?” The driver said.

“No thank you. I’ll stay awake. Sleep is for the week and all.” He mumbled, fixing his cap.

“Okay, if you say so” The driver responded, shrugging and continued driving.

Arvin looked out of the window, watched as the trees passed by, a lonely dog making a trek as it wiggled it’s tail. His heart gave a thump, chest aching as the dog reminded him of Jack. He really missed the mutt, he didn’t deserve the death it got.

Pulling his cap over his eyes, he squinted at the slight indication of dawn, the pull of sleep too strong to ignore now. His mouth went slack and neck bobbed with the wobbly rout, a huge yawn leaving him, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

***

“Hey kid! Wake up!” The man said, shaking out of his sleep. He woke up in a disoriented haze, head throbbing harshly against his skull, body heavy with exhaustion. Sitting up with a gasp, he saw that the man had stopped the truck, panic seizing his lungs. Was that it? Would the driver pull a gun on him just like those Henderson whores had?

Looking around, he noticed a small diner, stomach growling with hunger, as if in response to seeing the place.

“Whe- Where are we?” He said sharply, noticing the driver’s eyes trailing him. He shuddered at the man’s gaze.

“We’re at a rest stop. Figured you might be hungry.” He replied gruffly, getting off the side door, “You comin’ or not boy?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.” He whispered. Maybe he could run away from here, hitchhike another ride to the city. His eyes landed on the board on the corner of the road. He was relieved to find that he was already in the city.

Before he knew it though, his feet were carrying him towards the diner, a cigarette making its way to his mouth as an invisible string pulled him towards the small place. He complied, too tired to make anything of the situation.

The bell rang as he opened the door, pushing himself inside before he could think. Taking an empty seat, he leaned on his hands as his heart stuttered to a stop.

Literally stopped.

It felt like he was in a parallel universe filled with coincidences, flashbacks of his old house back in Ohio, his daddy sitting on a ratty stool as he talked about his mama . Because in front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He remembered his daddy telling him how he met his mother in a diner in a small town, just like the one Arvin was in right now.

Throwing away the butt in an ashtray, he tried to speak, but no words came out. He stuttered a small smile, looking at your bright eyes as you said something.

“What do I get for you honey?” You asked in a soft voice, oh your voice was such a melody.

“A coffee would be good.” He finally said, licking his lips and thumbing his wallet nervously. He hadn’t left with much money.

“You look like you need solid food and aspirin.” You smirked, pouring a hot cup of coffee in front of him. You slid a cheesecake, smiling at his surprised expression. “It’s on me.“

"Oh- I uhm. Thank you.” He nodded. He took a bite of the soft dessert, nearly moaning at its sweet taste. His taste buds were jumping from the onslaught of the sweet flavour, sighing as he sipped at the bitter coffee. It was the best food he’d had in a few days.

Turning around in his seat, he saw that the driver was nowhere in sight. Great. He had ditched him. Thankfully he still had his belongings with him.

Turning around again, he fidgeted with his fingers just as you appeared in the line of his sight.

“You’re not from here are you?” You ask, wiping your hands on your apron.

“No. How’d you know?” He raised an eyebrow, a smile appearing on his face.

“Well you look quite lost. Do you have a place to stay?” You leaned forward, the open collar showing just a little bit of your cleavage. He licked his lips, trying not to stare.

“I don’t actually. My ride ditched me.” He shrugged, “thanks for the cheesecake by the way."

"Oh it’s alright. The leftovers go to those bloated buffoons anyway. You looked starved, so I wondered why not?” You collected the cutlery from the other customers, shouting orders at the kitchen for the others. “You say your ride ditched you? My grandma owns a motel not far from here, I could get you a room to stay for s while."

"Oh no no no! That- you’ve already done so much for me and you don’t even know me!” He stumbled. He wasn’t used to this sort of kindness, considering the shit his life took in the past few months.

“It’s no trouble really! I’m just going there after this shift anyway, will probably stay in the penthouse for a while.” You said.

Before he could say anything to confirm or deny your offer, You were removing your apron, handing it to another girl as you hopped over the counter.

Fixing your dress and hair, you go to the back of the kitchen and yell something at the manager, walking out of the house, looking behind and silently asking him to follow.

Arvin tried to follow you, sighing in relief when he found you leaning against the wall in the back. But instead of calling out for you, he scrambled for a cigarette, groaning internally when he found only one left and lit it with a matchstick. Taking a drag, he breathed in the familiar burning in his throat, leaning against a pole.

He felt more than saw you eyeing him from the corner of his eye, heart speeding up like he was in highschool and had a crush on one of the girls or guys. He hadn’t stuck around much to date anyone, but the time he had making out with them was good enough for him.

“My name’s Y/N by the way.” You said, biting your lips as you looked at him.

“Russell Arv- I mean- Arvin Russell.” He stuttered, pulling out the joint from his mouth.

He took a deep breath, letting the silent roads and windy weather calm his racing heart down. He thought about leaving right there, not wanting to get someone who looked as innocent as you did, in a mess like his life was. Before he could walk away though, you were walking towards him, biting your lips.

“Uhh, so my grandma’s place?” You asked nervously.

“You barely know me and you’re letting me stay with you. For all you know, I could be a murderer.” He joked. You chuckled and made a face at him, dragging him to your Cadillac. He followed anyway.

(He almost laughed at how ironic he sounded, shaking his head internally.)

“Thanks for letting me stay Mrs. L/N” He smiled at your grandma as she shook his hands, enthusiastically shoving cookies down his throat and excited that you had brought a boy with you.

“She’s nice."

"She’s the best.”

He intended to stay for a day and hitch a ride, stay far far away from this place. He didn’t want to corrupt these people, he tried to reason. But he couldn’t let go, he just kept interacting.

(A little girl in the neighbourhood liked to play with his hat. He smiled at the small child, surprised to find the unadulterated happiness that radiated off the wee kiddo when he played with her. The people smiled a lot too.)

A day turned to two, two to a week and then nearly a month passed and no one asked him once why he lived with a girl and her grandma.

(Or why he flinched every time he saw a gun or an officer of law walk by).

He also managed to score a job at the diner, for washing the plates. He found that he didn’t mind helping people

You didn’t know how fast time could pass, and as it grew it’s sneaky tendrils, your heart grew a mind of its own as you spent days fantasizing your time with him, of you under him as he fucked you senseless.

Tracing his biceps, you leaned forward, mouth nearly touching his. He cupped your jaw, grabbing your waist and lifted you off the ground, slamming you against the concrete wall and kissed you.

Your mouth tasted like berries, which berries he didn’t know, maybe strawberries, fuck if he cared. Maybe it was your Chapstick.

“Arvin.” You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching for the collar of his shirt as he shoved you against the wall, holding your ass to keep your balance. His tongue swirled around your lips, hands sliding up your legs in a soothing motion.

You could taste the nicotine in his mouth, but you couldn’t be bothered. All you wanted was this beautiful stranger right now. A stranger who you felt like you’ve known your whole life.

“Shh sweetheart, don’t want anyone to hear us would we?” He whispered in your ear, holding his hands over your lips to shush you. You nodded, eyes half closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his rough denim rub against your thighs, the sheer friction of his movements causing heat to pool your gut.

“Arvin,” you moaned softly, running your hands through his hair, “Arvin, wait. I- I know a place."

He stopped for a second, Looking at you with a bewildered expression. "What kind of place?"

You gulped, getting off of him and walking around and outside the master bedroom, making sure no one was in the corridor. Following you, his eyes grew wide as he saw you open a door to a dungeon, switching on the flickering lights to reveal a small square area room.

The room was dimly lit and dusty. It was surrounded by racks but he could not see what was kept in them. In the centre though, was a single obsolete piece of wooden slab surrounded by long rods of metal attached to it. It must have been an old hospital bed- the kind the troops used. It sat flat against the floor. He looked at you again.

"My daddy used to bring things from the war, whips, guns, handcuffs. Everything. Everything.” Your low voice sent chills up his spine. With shaking hands, he scoured the cupboards, wiping off the dust from his fingers as he came across a pair of brass knuckles and handcuffs. Fingering them, he looked at you as you nodded.

“Do you- do you want me to use ‘em? On ya?” He said. He could feel his already hard dick throb painfully almost, the lust in your eyes making him feel things.

“Use them on me Arvin. I wanna feel you use the cold metal against me as you fucked me so hard I couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You suddenly push him against the cupboards, his back hitting with a thud as you traced his chest through his shirt, scrambling to remove off the offending clothing.

You scratched his chest lightly, fingers gliding against his pecs and abs as they clenched, moving in a sensual manner. He was impatient, you could practically smell his excitement in waves. The scent of his cologne was overwhelming in a way that made your insides tingle with your own arousal.

“Fuck- sweetheart.” He whimpered, his legs weak for you, waiting to feel your walls.

Kissing his neck and then chest and nipples, you dig your teeth around the skin, eliciting a moan deep from his throat. You were shaking with anticipation, hastily removing your frock and throwing it to somewhere. He held you for a second, admiring your body and giving you a gratifying look. His hands linger around your chest, unhooking your bra holding them as he kisses your chest while bending down with trails of kisses down all the way to your tummy.

You pant as he reaches your navel, slender fingers sliding your panties off you as you sigh in relief, ecstatic that you were now fully naked in front of the boy of your desires.

He plunged his fingers inside your dripping core, your legs trembling as he licked off dripping cum from your folds.

“Already wet for me huh? Wait till I use these on you, how will you feel then babygirl? Want me to use them don’t you?” He urges, spreading your legs apart and moving you so that your butt hit the wooden plank. You whimper at the force, back arching as he dribbles your clit with his spit, licking it off you and then standing up. You immediately miss the contact, and thankfully it wasn’t for long before he came back.

He unbuttoned his pants so that he was too fully exposed now, his cock springing out made you crave for it even more now, but before you could do anything, he took your hand, cuffing it to the railing of the plank. You cursed at the tightness, adjusting your wrist so that they wouldn’t hurt. You whimpered when you felt a cold wooden spoon run along your chest. He held the dip of the spoon on top of them leaving indents, his other hand’s thumb kneading into your flesh.

“Is this okay princess? Don’t wanna hurt your pretty little hand. Just wanna hear you moan my name.” He whispered, voice cracking due to the octave it took when you gave a shrill cry of surprise, your other hand clutching at his hair, causing you to lose your balance and falling on your ass.

“I need you Arvin! I need you now please help me!” You cry out, your eyes devoid of tears but your voice showing your emotion. You were hungry, starved and his cock looked delicious. You just wanted him inside.

“A little patience would be appreciated.” He growled against your chest, biting at the sensitive skin. You must have said that out loud.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in me.” You whimper, scrunching your eyes as he nipped at your neck, rubbing the tip of his dick on your clit. His tip was bright red, hard and erect. You wrapped your legs around his shoulder, bringing him down at you. His fingers kept playing while his mouth worked.

“I’m so wet Arvin, only for you baby, look at me, so wet.” The wooden spoon made contact with your chest again, sliding down to your ass as he gently nudged your back. He didn’t hit you, no, that son of a bitch teased you with slow motions of its cold surface. You kissed him till your lips were plump and red with blood dripping off the thin skin, his mouth leaving his lingering taste in yours.

Finally, finally, he slid into you. You gave a shrill cry as his member entered you, your walls clenching around it as if you wanted it to stay in you forever. You arched your back, your waist hitting his pelvis, causing it to slap around him. You unconsciously dug your fingers in his back, gritting your teeth at the sudden sensory input.

“So tight baby. Clenching around me like a fucking ant-eater. You like this don’t you darlin’? Like it when I slide in."

"Yes baby.” You whispered. Sweat dripped off of the both of you, your slicked bodies slapping against each other, “Oh I’m about to cum! Arvin!"

"Cum on me baby, cum on my dick so I can shove in harder.” He clenched himself, mouth forming an O as he felt you orgasm around him, his dick sliding out of you. Pumping his balls, he clenched his jaw at the sight of you, panting under him with your legs spread apart. “You’re such a good girl. Always listening to what I say."

"Because you’re the best.” You flopped down on the board, your back hitting it. You jiggled your arm that was held in the handcuff, the movement bringing Arvin toppling down to you. He fell on your breasts, face smushed in as if he was sleeping on a pillow. You erupted in a fit of giggles as he licked you with kitten-like strips.

“Did you like that? Was that- was that okay?” He huffed, probably as tired as you were right now. His muscles relaxed under your touch, unclenching as you ran your hands on his back. You hissed when you saw that your hand had caused bloody indents on his skin.

“That was amazing sweetheart.” You paused, “I’m so glad we met that day."

"Me too. I didn’t believe in love for a very long time after momma died, and then my daddy died, and then Lenora-” he said, choking on his tears, “- my sister, Lenora, that fucking preacher. He killed her."

"Arvin, baby I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t bring them back. But I can hold you. I can hold you forever if you want. I can love you."

You froze for a moment, realising what you had said. You had met only a month ago, and yet here you were, telling him that you loved him. Your heart did gallops when he didn’t answer for a while, and then you heard it. You heard him say those three words, a soft whisper in the night.

"I love you too."

#arvin russell smut #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russell x reader smut #peter parker x reader smut #tom holland smut #spideygirl writes

722 notes · View notes

veliseraptor · 4 years ago

Text

closed fist, open hand

it’s still the 22nd where I am and happy birthday to my best boy xue yang, here is a fic from the if living can be this verse, songxue, for someone (forgetting who?? might’ve been @spockandawe) featuring the ongoing journey of xue yang being very clueless about some things, sometimes.

it’s porn but it’s actually nice porn, so 👍

this will be on ao3 at some point in the relatively near future.

Song Lan was being very, very frustrating. Which, okay, not that surprising, but still annoying as fuck.

Xiao Xingchen and a-Qing were off doing something and going to be gone the whole fucking day, which meant Xue Yang was alone with Song Lan, and he was restless and itchy and it was a perfect opportunity to get Song Lan to rough him up. Really rough him up, in a fingers around his throat, bruises everywhere, feeling it tomorrow kind of way.

So he’d been doing his best all morning to get him nice and pissed off and all that he’d gotten was a long-suffering look and a sigh, or a dry is that necessary, or, once, eyes cast toward the ceiling like he was seeking help from the heavens.

It was starting to drive Xue Yang a little crazy.

Stewing, glaring at Song Lan where he was meditating in apparent peace, Xue Yang gave up. He tossed the pot he was washing as loudly as possible into the bucket of washwater and sauntered over, straddled him on his knees, put his hands on his shoulders, and said, dropping his voice a little and letting it slide, “fuck me up, gege.”

Song Lan took a quick, sharp breath and opened his eyes. Xue Yang grinned at him with all his teeth.

“Is that what you’ve been hinting at?” he asked after a pause. Xue Yang’s grin widened.

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I just like annoying the shit out of you, Zichen. Maybe a little of both. Going to do something about it?”

Song Lan’s eyes narrowed. Xue Yang cocked his head to the side.

“Hm,” Song Lan said, and then, “I could. But not here.”

Xue Yang straightened up. “Yeah?” he said eagerly. “That a promise?”

“Try me,” Song Lan said, his voice steady and even and the expression on his face entirely unreadable. Xue Yang’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and he leaned forward.

“I thought I already was,” he said, plastering a grin on again. Song Lan didn’t so much as blink.

“Not here,” he said again. “I’d be uncomfortable.”

A thrill went up Xue Yang’s spine. His eyes widened in delight and he planted his hands on Song Lan’s chest to push himself back, dismounting and standing up. Song Lan did the same, in stages, and then just stood there looking at him. The annoyance crept back in.

“Well?” he said. “Are you coming or–”

The motherfucker could move fast when he wanted to. And he was stupidly strong, and Xue Yang hadn’t been watching for it, and now he was over Song Lan’s shoulder like a sack of rice. He thrashed, or tried, and then Song Lan said, “if you kick me I’ll drop you and we’re done,” so he did, reluctantly, stop. There was nothing in biting range, either. At least it wasn’t that far.

“Where’re you gonna do it, huh,” he said. “Gonna shove my face into the wall and fuck me from behind, do you want me on my knees so you can fuck my face, are you gonna make it hurt, make me suffer–”

Song Lan’s stride hitched slightly, but only for a moment, and Xue Yang laughed.

“Oh,” he said. “You like that, huh? Too bad you don’t have a whip or you could mark up my back so bad it’d hurt to lie down for a week. Bet you could come up with something though if you wanted. Or there’s always–”

The air went out of his lungs with an oof when Song Lan half-dropped, half-tossed him onto the bed. Xue Yang looked up at him, pushing himself up on his elbows and grinning, his heart thudding hard at the base of his throat.

“You talk too much,” Song Lan said. Xue Yang laughed.

“You like it,” he said. “You’ve always liked it. Okay, maybe not as much as Xingchen but still.” He pushed himself further up to sitting. “Come on, Zichen,” he said. “You’re not done already, are you? I thought you were going to put me in my place.”

Song Lan’s eyes narrowed again, darkened slightly, and Xue Yang grinned again, then licked his lips with exaggerated relish.

Song Lan removed his belt. Xue Yang’s eyes snapped to it, his body heating up with eager anticipation. “Give me your hands,” Song Lan said, and Xue Yang paused but only for a moment before he held them out, wiggling his fingers.

“This feels familiar,” Xue Yang said brightly when Song Lan started binding his wrists together. Song Lan’s movements stuttered again, slightly, and he gave Xue Yang a hard look that made him falter, just a little.

“I’m just making sure you keep your hands to yourself,” Song Lan said after a moment. “And I don’t trust your self restraint.”

“That hurts, gege,” Xue Yang said. It felt a little strange, having his hands restrained like this. Not something he usually liked. Hadn’t gone well last time he’d tried it. But the little frisson up his spine wasn’t completely bad and he was here to get fucked up anyway so it didn’t matter that much. The belt didn’t even chafe like ropes would, and it wasn’t so tight he couldn’t wriggle out if he really tried.

“I’m sure it does,” Song Lan said, then hooked his fingers into the bindings and pushed Xue Yang down to his back, hard enough to push the air out of his lungs in a quiet oof. He blinked up at Song Lan as he climbed onto the bed over him, then laughed, stretching his torso, pushing up against Song Lan’s weight holding him down so he could feel the resistance of him holding him down. It felt good, the little mingled thrill of unease and hunger. Song Lan gave him a slow, considering look like he was trying to decide where to start taking him apart.

“What’re you waiting for?” Xue Yang asked. “I’m gonna start getting bored here. Lost your nerve, Song-daozhang?”

“No,” Song Lan said. Then, “remember, hands to yourself or I’ll just leave you here like this.”

Xue Yang let out an exaggerated gasp. “Song-daozhang! You wouldn’t,” he said.

“You’d deserve it,” Song Lan said ruthlessly, but he let go and Xue Yang kept his hands where they were. He was rewarded with one of Song Lan’s hands around his neck, palm pressed lightly against the ridge of his throat. His eyes half closed with a pleased sound but instead of pushing down Song Lan just drew his thumb lightly down the side of Xue Yang’s neck. And then again, and again, and when he tried to push up to chase more pressure Song Lan pulled away altogether. Xue Yang frowned at him.

“Are you going easy on me?” he said incredulously. “Come on, Song-daozhang, you know I can take it.”

“I know,” Song Lan said, and pulled his hand away. Xue Yang started to jerk up only for Song Lan to plant a hand in the center of his chest and push him firmly back down.

“Oh,” he said. “Okay, so it’s just that you can’t do it, I get it. Poor Zichen’s lost his nerve–”

“Hm,” Song Lan said, and then gave Xue Yang a very slight smile that cut off Xue Yang’s voice and sent a delightfully ominous shiver down his spine. His fingers curled but he set his jaw and gave Song Lan a bright and vicious grin.

“Prove me wrong,” he said. “Do your worst.”

Song Lan pulled back only far enough to take off Xue Yang’s belt and pull his robes open so he was just wearing pants and shirt even if Song Lan still had all his clothes. “You leaving those on?” Xue Yang asked, jerking his chin in his direction. “Gonna get them dirty? If you make me bleed on your robes I’m not washing them.”

“You’re not going to bleed,” Song Lan said calmly. Xue Yang laughed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay.” And because Song Lan wasn’t moving fast enough, he said, “hey, Zichen, did you ever think about doing this shit to Xiao Xingchen? Did you ever want to hurt him, put those nice strong fingers of yours around his neck and squeeze until he choked–”

Song Lan’s expression tightened, a flash of anger and something else too lighting up his eyes and Xue Yang took a quick breath, bracing himself, but then it faded away and he just cupped Xue Yang’s jaw with a gentleness that sent a shiver down his spine, his thumb brushing across Xue Yang’s lower lip. He tried to snap at his fingers, but that just meant Song Lan pulled his hand away completely which wasn’t what he wanted.

“If you want something you can just ask,” Song Lan told him. Xue Yang bared his teeth.

“Really?” he said. “You need me to give you all your ideas? Weak. You did just fine when you were splitting me open on my own fucking sword–”

Song Lan’s eyes went dark, and Xue Yang grinned at him. Then Song Lan moved, manhandling Xue Yang more onto the bed. He fought it more reflexively than anything, but also so he could feel the satisfying weight of Song Lan’s holding him in place, pinning him down. His cock was getting interested again, and finally Song Lan was close enough that he could arch his hips and rub against him. Song Lan ran his fingers into his hair but didn’t pull. He rocked down against Xue Yang and Xue Yang made a loud, pleased noise.

“That’s more like it,” he said.

“Mmm,” Song Lan said, and then murmured, “you’re doing very well,” and a funny shock shot through Xue Yang, jarring him sideways. Sweet enough to hurt, almost, and it should’ve sounded condescending, like he was mocking Xue Yang only it didn’t, not really. He opened up the last layer of clothes across Xue Yang’s chest so when he put one hand over Xue Yang’s hammering heart it was pressed against skin.

Xue Yang faked a yawn. His skin was prickling some kind of a warning. “You’re being boring,” he said. “You ever wonder if you could make me scream?”

“You’re loud enough as it is,” Song Lan said. His palms felt warm; he touched the scar under his collarbone like he hadn’t noticed it before. Xue Yang shivered, his nerves brightening.

“You should’ve seen it when it was fresh,” Xue Yang said. “Missed out, Song-daozhang.” Song Lan’s touch paused and he gave Xue Yang a quick look, not quite a frown. “There’s one on the back, too,” Xue Yang said. “Matches.”

Song Lan’s fingers lingered on the scar a moment longer, and Xue Yang flashed his teeth in a smile that felt a little uneasy, squirming restlessly. “If you want to break it open again you’re going to need more than your bare hands,” he said. “Though I’d kind of like to see you try.”

Song Lan shot him another one of those strange not-quite frowns and then shook himself.

“Why would I want to do that?” he said, apparently in genuine question, and Xue Yang had a moment of confusion before Song Lan’s hips pressed down against his, his robes enough out of the way that Xue Yang could feel his cock against his leg. He bucked like he would somehow be able to feel more of it that way.

“Are you gonna fuck me with that thing?” he asked. “Get it wet in my mouth and–” He felt the eager twitch of Song Lan’s cock and crowed gleefully. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sounds good, right, you like it when I’m choking on your cock wedged in my throat–”

Song Lan put a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet,” he said, and Xue Yang was surprised enough that his voice died, and Song Lan smiled slightly. “Good,” he said, and Xue Yang had that feeling again like a kick in the chest. Xiao Xingchen could do that to him, did do that to him, but not Song Lan. He pulled his hand off Xue Yang’s mouth and said, “don’t rush me. I’m taking my time.”

A warning prickled at the back of Xue Yang’s brain, but it was a little fuzzy and he’d rather think about the slow rub of Song Lan’s body against his. Slow and sweet and before long he was squirming and gasping. Which Song Lan seemed to think was enough, that and his hands just petting Xue Yang’s face, his chest, his side. And every time Xue Yang tried to open his mouth Song Lan just covered it.

His body was starting to feel overworked, a little overloaded, and thoroughly confused. The one thing he was absolutely sure of was that he wanted more. He twisted, trying to wriggle his hips into a better position and gasping when Song Lan pressed down, the pressure exquisite even if on its own it wasn’t enough.

He bit Song Lan’s shoulder, hard. He heard Song Lan’s sharp inhale, the tensing of his body, only then he just said, “let go.”

Xue Yang bit down harder for a moment longer and then released him, giving Song Lan a bright, sharp grin that faltered when he saw the expression on Song Lan’s face. He didn’t look angry. Determined, and maybe a little amused, gaze intent.

“That’s it,” Song Lan said soothingly, the hand that wasn’t braced on the bed fanning out over his ribs. “That’s good.” Xue Yang quivered, the last of his smile dropping. An almost violent spasm rippling through his whole body, a small sound slipping out of his mouth before he could catch it. His hips bucked upwards and Song Lan’s pushed him back down, gentle but inexorable.

His head was spinning a little. “What,” he said, and then gathered himself and said, “aw, Zichen, you’re so sweet,” and reared up to bite him again, harder. Song Lan grunted and his fingers pressed into flesh - yes, better, Xue Yang thought a little wildly - but a moment later his touch softened again, eased.

Xue Yang let go of Song Lan’s shoulder, breathing hard, and stared up at Song Lan feeling profoundly off balance.

Song Lan’s hand moved up to brush his thumb over one of Xue Yang’s cheekbones, the faint scar left from Jin Guangyao’s attempt to have him killed. He felt his eyes go wide, his head tipping toward that touch.

“There,” Song Lan said. He sounded pleased. Xue Yang had no idea why. His heart was thudding very hard.

He squirmed. “Come on,” he said. “What’re you waiting for–”

“Nothing,” Song Lan said, sounding far too calm. “I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing.”

Xue Yang stared at him, confused, only then Song Lan dropped his hand from his face and palmed his cock gently through his underclothes and he just exhaled in a shuddery sigh. Arching up toward that pressure only to drop back down, panting.

“Don’t - fuck around,” he said, his voice stupidly thin. “You think you’re gonna make me beg for it, Zichen? Sorry, it’s gonna take more than that, I can barely–”

“You don’t have to beg,” Song Lan said smoothly. “I’m going to give it to you anyway.” He moved his hand in a slow circle, massaging Xue Yang’s cock and he let out an embarrassing sort of hiccup, body jumping up toward his hand which didn’t gain him any more force.

“You,” he said, short on breath. “You, you’re–”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Song Lan said. He sounded so calm, so steady. Like he wasn’t driving Xue Yang insane.

Xue Yang heaved an inhale that rushed out of his lungs a moment later. His eyes, for some reason, prickled, his hands twisting, tugging against Song Lan’s belt wound around his wrists. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He desperately wanted more.

“Motherfucker,” he said. “Fucking - is this all, is this the best you can do, I thought you said you were going to fuck me, fuck me up not–”

“You seem pretty undone to me,” Song Lan said, his voice almost smug. Xue Yang squirmed harder.

“Fuck you,” he said urgently. “Do you need me to, to - unh,” he broke off, when Song Lan put just a little more pressure on his increasingly needy cock.

“I know,” he said, almost soothingly. “But I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Why not,” Xue Yang said, somewhere between plea and hiss. He wanted it to be the latter but it sort of came out the former anyway.

“Why should I?” Song Lan asked, like that wasn’t the stupidest question in the world, or at least that Xue Yang had heard today. He stopped moving and just stared blankly at Song Lan, who stared steadily back at him.He looked determined, unsmiling as usual, but something weird and - and soft in his eyes. Xue Yang’s heartbeat kicked up and he wanted to dig his teeth into that exposed underbelly and at the same time his instincts were screaming danger even though he didn’t have any clue why.

“Cause that’s just - how it goes.” His fingers curled into his palms. “You do want to, don’t be - Xiao Xingchen’s not here and I’m not gonna tell him or anything if you’re worried about him getting pissed at you or whatever–”

“I’m not worried about that,” Song Lan cut in. Xue Yang swallowed hard.

“Then the fuck game are you playing,” he said, his voice rough and strange, sort of uneven.

“For an unfortunately clever man you can be very stupid about some things,” Song Lan said, and slid one hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. Light and quick and not super interesting or anything but Song Lan hadn’t done that before. Oh, sure, Xue Yang had kissed him, usually to fuck with him a little but it didn’t go the other way around and not like that, for sure, not like he was - was fucking Xiao Xingchen or something–

His chest heaved with the loud, gasping breaths he could hear himself taking. His head was spinning and he felt a little like Song Lan had kicked his legs out from under him and he was having a hard time getting back up.

“What d’you want,” Xue Yang said desperately, words slurring together. Song Lan let out a little huff that wasn’t quite a laugh.

“Like I said,” he said. “You’re unfortunately clever. I expect you’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

Xue Yang started to snarl but it broke off into a moan when Song Lan shoved his thigh between Xue Yang’s legs. He ground desperately against it, unable to help himself. Arched his hips up chasing more only for Song Lan to pull away again.

“Fuck,” he said, almost despairing. “Fuck, are you gonna fuck me or not–”

“I know, I know,” Song Lan said, almost soothingly, and Xue Yang was going to kill him and at the same time sort of wanted to just let go and ride it, see where the fuck Song Lan was taking him. Finally, though, finally Song Lan moved to pull off Xue Yang’s pants. Xue Yang panted as fabric dragged over his sensitive cock, then inhaled sharply when Song Lan brushed his fingers against Xue Yang’s leg, making him jump. He wavered back and forth between a vague feeling of humiliation and exposure and sheer hunger.

Song Lan paused, sat back, and looked at him. Xue Yang groaned. “Don’t just–”

“You are,” Song Lan said, tone sort of considering, “very handsome.”

Xue Yang blinked, startled momentarily out of his haze of lust. That was clever and handsome both in a very short time and he didn’t quite know what to make of it other than that it felt good in a way he very much associated with Xiao Xingchen, warm and sweet. “Huh,” he said. Song Lan’s expression twitched a little and he leaned forward, kissing him again, a little more this time. Still light and almost shy but it had Xue Yang reeling anyway, not that he hadn’t been already.

Any chance he might’ve had at collecting his thoughts vanished when Song Lan took his cock in hand. Loose, barely touching him at all but Xue Yang still groaned and thrust into his grip. “Tighter,” he said, but Song Lan didn’t seem to hear him, or just ignored him, the fingers of his left hand slotting into the spaces between Xue Yang’s ribs.

“Relax,” Song Lan said, and Xue Yang’s breathing hitched in a mixture of terror and incredulity. “Just let me…”

His thumb rubbed against the underside of the head of Xue Yang’s cock and he let out a thoroughly pathetic whine. It felt like he was slipping again and he didn’t know what he was going to hit when he fell.

“Fuck you,” he said, though it came out thin and small. Xue Yang tried to rally, pull himself back together. “Is this - come on, I could go to sleep right now, are you gonna do something interesting or what?” his voice was goading, mean, or at least it was trying to be, but Song Lan didn’t seem impressed.

“Hm,” he said, and let go of Xue Yang’s cock again, grabbing his wrists instead and pressing them down. “You don’t seem that bored,” he said. He sounded sort of amused again and Xue Yang’s mouth opened and closed without any words like a stupid dying fish. He felt dazed. Stunned. Like Song Lan had banged his head against the floor a few times, or something.

“Hit me,” Xue Yang said.

“No,” Song Lan said.

“Please,” Xue Yang said, his voice cracking, and for the first time Song Lan’s expression fractured a little, betraying uncertainty, and Xue Yang would’ve dug his fingernails into it if he could’ve but he was too - everything was too–

“You don’t ask Xingchen,” Song Lan said, which didn’t make any sense at all. Xue Yang just stared at him, wild-eyed, because what did Xiao Xingchen have to do with this anyway, Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t do it but Song Lan would because Song Lan wanted to hurt him, always had, that was just, that was how–

He heard the crack before he registered the sting of it, his head snapping to the side. Fireworks went off behind his eyes and his mind went blank. Empty and quiet.

Fingers touched his jaw and pulled his eyes back to Song Lan’s face, who was looking at him with a strange expression. “That’s better,” he said, and it was half reassurance and half question.

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said blurrily. His face was still hot. His cock throbbed. He flexed his fingers to feel the bindings dig into his wrists which felt like it was one of the only things keeping him from just drifting off.

“I’m not your enemy,” Song Lan said. It sounded like he thought it was important, so Xue Yang nodded even if he didn’t feel like he really got why.

“Okay,” he said. And then, “do it again,” because the sting was starting to fade and he wanted it back.

“No,” Song Lan said, after a brief hesitation, and Xue Yang felt a brief flare of disappointment before it died away. He sighed, though, a little sadly. It felt like he might’ve come if Song Lan’d done it. Just from that. Probably not but it sort of felt like maybe.

“Let me...let me take care of you,” Song Lan said, and the words felt a little like small pieces of glass, cutting little stinging wounds. His head was all messed up. Coming only sort of seemed to matter.

“Fuck me,” he said, voice wobbly. “Do it dry, I don’t care–”

“No,” Song Lan said again, but then he had Xue Yang’s cock in his hand and his palm felt slick and warm even when he was as hot as he was. His hips rabbited up, trying to fuck himself with Song Lan’s hand, but his muscles all felt half-liquid, scrambled like his head.

It was okay. Song Lan did the work for him, the way he liked it, and by the time he spilled in pulses over his stomach and Song Lan’s hand he could’ve howled if his throat hadn’t locked up.

He felt limp, wrung out. Xue Yang blinked slowly, hazily.

“Xue Yang,” said Song Lan’s voice, quietly.

“Uh huh,” he managed to say in acknowledgment, though his brain was still mostly off somewhere else.

“What am I to you?”

Xue Yang tried to think about that but it was really very hard to think and he didn’t know a good answer. It felt like there was an answer he was supposed to have but he didn’t.

“Tired,” he said instead.

Song Lan sighed. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose you are.” He sounded sort of disappointed, which made Xue Yang frown a little. He tried to focus.

“You’re...Song Lan,” he said.

“Yes, Xue Yang,” Song Lan said after a pause. “That’s true.”

“You’re Xingchen’s,” Xue Yang tried again.

“I’m not,” Song Lan started to say, and then paused and amended, “I suppose you could put it that way.”

“And mine, sort of,” Xue Yang ventured, because he was feeling loose and sort of daring and he wanted to see what would happen. “Even if we’re. You know. Not friends, or whatever.”

He didn’t know what to make of the long quiet that followed. So long that he pried his eyes open to see if Song Lan was even still there. He was. He didn’t say anything, though, just got up and started untying Xue Yang. There was a little bit of a bruise-ache in his wrists but it felt good, unlike the weird shivery prickling crawling over his skin as things started to come back together.

“Don’t leave,” he objected, just in case Song Lan was thinking about it.

“All right,” Song Lan said, after looking at him for a while. “I won’t.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and Xue Yang squirmed until he could drop his head in his lap.

“D’you wanna fuck my face,” he said.

“No,” Song Lan said, and then added, “thank you,” which made Xue Yang giggle a little. He was giving Xue Yang a weird look again, but he did that a lot. Xue Yang’d gotten used to it.

“Okay,” he said, and closed his eyes without thinking about how safe he was, or wasn’t. He was asleep within heartbeats.

Xue Yang was fast asleep and snoring a little when Xingchen and a-Qing returned. Song Lan hadn’t moved. It wasn’t like he had that much to do, and Xue Yang’s head on his leg wasn’t uncomfortable. Xue Yang, for his part, looked very comfortable.

“I’m here, Xingchen,” he said quietly. He heard a-Qing mutter something, but Xingchen came in, looking a little quizzical. Song Lan sighed and said, “Xue Yang is sleeping. On me.”

Xingchen smiled with radiant fondness that made Song Lan’s chest hurt.

“Sleeping on you,” he said. “Well.”

“He tells me,” Song Lan said, with a little bit of despair, “that we’re ‘not friends, or whatever.’” He’d also said Song Lan was his, which he didn’t know how to take.

Xingchen’s expression flickered and fell, though he recovered quickly.

“It’s not true,” he said. Song Lan let his silence speak for him, and Xingchen said, “he fell asleep on you. And still is, now. Whether he knows it or not, that is a certain amount of trust.”

Maybe, Song Lan thought, but I would like him to know it.

“He’ll get there, Zichen,” Xingchen said soothingly.

Maybe, Song Lan thought again. But he was also thinking about the flushed red of Xue Yang’s cheek after he’d hit him, and the exhilaration of doing it, the sharp stabbing hunger, and he had to wonder if, deep down, Xue Yang was right about him after all.

#if living can be this #!nsfw text #a wild fic appeared #songxue #xue yang #song lan #and that's it outta me for tonight probably #the sad queer cultivators show

126 notes · View notes

iambilliejeanok · 4 years ago

Text

🤎A Break With My Lover.🤎

Part One

Pairing: Might Guy x Tenji( made up character)

Summary: Tenj is back from her two month mission and is so excited to spend time with her new boyfriend Guy, who pampers and adores her. Just a cute little short story for all my Guy sensei hoes to enjoy.😊

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, SFW and NSFW, smut.

Tenji now stood at the entrance of the Hokage mansion, grateful to have been granted a full week's rest after her team worked tirelessly for a full two months. Another breeze blew a curl that dangled from her loose bun into her face, not caring in the slightest to put it back in its place. Her main goal was to reach her beloved apartment and take a much needed cool shower to wash away the grim, sweat and blood that clung to her aching body. With her eyes closed she inhaled a deep long breath, forcing herself to take the first step. Her body felt so heavy and her mind fuzzy, a sudden wave of fatigue ripping a whine from deep in her throat. “Oi, Tenji,” a sharp flick on the side of her neck immediately snapped her out of her sluggish mood. “Tch! Genma what the fuck,” a sly smirk appearing on his smug face as he took pleasure in her frustration, relishing the irritated look he managed to put on her face. “Well hello to you too Tenji, it's been too long, glad that you're back and in one piece it seems,” he spoke as he gave her a quick once over, ensuring that she was really in one piece and he hopefully hadn’t spoken too soon. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes as he inspected her obviously fatigued face, a hint of sympathy pulled at his heart realising she would probably have to walk all the way home on her own despite how tired she was. Tenji noticed the slight worry in his light brown eyes and instantly thought of a plan. Maybe she could convince him to carry her home after seeing the state she was in. “I’m okay I guess, I’m so tired, just wish i had help getting home Genma,” she whimpered as she stepped closer, leaning her chubby cheek into his broad, muscular chest, she looked up at him, hopeful that her long time buddy would show even the tiniest bit kindness he claimed to have, pulling her best puppy face while looking into his light brown eyes, her darker eyes needy as her full lips curved into a pout that he almost gave into until he realised what she was up to. Now, it’s not that he didn’t want to help(maybe a little) but it was also that he had already been summoned by the Hokage and couldn’t afford to be later than he already was and also because he knew Tenji could be such a spoiled brat sometimes and he was not in the mood to baby her today. He averted his gaze and placed two long, slender fingers on her forehead before gently nudging her off of him. “Geez Tenji” , his words almost sounding empathetic until he opened his mouth again, “Good luck finding someone who will help you with that”. Tenji’s mouth hung open in utter defeat as Genma walked right past her, not missing how he unashamedly took in the gorgeous sight of her full, round ass, her uniform gracefully complimenting it with the way her pants clung desperately to the curve of her hips and hugged her ass in a way that he would always appreciate. “Tch”, Tenji scoffed as she turned fully to face him, his soft light, brown eyes slowly climbing up her body taking in her front, failing to hide the disappointment in them, missing the blessed sight she turned away from him, reluctantly looking back up into her darker orbs to wink at her, disappearing into the Hokage mansion. She blamed herself for expecting anything from that perverted bastard, as she hesitantly began her dreadful walk down the busy streets of Konoha.

Tenji kept her eyes glued to the ground, drowning out the sounds of the happy village folk all around her, as she continued on replaying how good it would feel to walk into her apartment and pamper herself to a nice shower and some well needed rest. A low growl from her tummy dirsturbed her train of thought, reminding her of her deep hunger for some delicious, warm food. The divine, savory smell of Ichiraku’s ramen, not helping her best attempts at ignoring it and heading home, her fatigue too overwhelming for her to entertain her hunger as she stood in front of the little ramen restaurant. “Tenji sensei!,” a loud voice erupting out of nowhere pulled her attention directly in front of her. A young and enthusiastic Lee stood in her path, the biggest grin spreading on his face, clearly excited to see her. A mini Might Guy, always bringing a deep nostalgic feeling in her heart, he was far too adorable for her to not smile at him, despite the exhaustion that tugged at her eyelids, with his little green jumpsuit, “Lee-san, so good-,” she was suddenly cut off as two large hands tugged at her waist, lifting her up and tossing her high into the air, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the one sensation she absolutely despised, punching her deep in her gut as the fall back downwards came shortly after. Landing right into none other than her boyfriend, Might Guy’s strong arms. “Precious!”, she shuddered as he spoke way louder than she would have liked; “After so long you have finally returned from your mission! Wow I’ve missed you'', Guy was basically roaring right in her face at this point, which she normally wouldn’t mind, but the fatigue she couldn’t shake off any longer made her highly irritable. “Guy!, put me down right now, baka!”, she blurted, his big, pretty grin never leaving his face as he gently complied. “My precious flower, how was your mission” he spoke in a much calmer voice, now sensing her irritated mood as he shamelessly inspected her entire body, not bothered by the irritation in her tone, making sure his eyes and hands didn't miss a single spot, hoping she wasn't injured as she replied, “It was a success. I just reported to Lady Hokage and I get a full week of rest as a reward so i'm going home now” , the tone of her voice growing more and more annoyed as she noticed Kakashi and his team all standing there, watching Guy fiddle with her body, the embarrassing display of care leaving a light blush across her plump cheeks. Everyone knew they were dating, despite the fact that their relationship was still very new, it didn't take a scientist to figure out they had been in love with one another even as friends. “Guy!” she whined, pushing him off of her hoping he was now pleased with his inspection. “As expected of my lotus! Always glowing in the light of her youth!”, he continued with his over enthusiastic praise. Tenji was now very used to his overly positive attitude that he was apparently born with, considering he was just as loud now, as he was when they were still children. Kakashi looked at her with a knowing look of second hand embarrassment as he nodded towards her “Yo, we‘re going inside Ichiraku’s now, join us whenever you’re ready Tenji-chan” he spoke in the warm, familiar manner, he always spoke in when talking to her. “Kakashi-san, I’m too tired. Next time?”, she replied, her eyelids noticeably droopy as he nodded in understanding, walking into the restaurant.

Guy stood in front of his new lover, feeling like his heart would explode with the surge of joy he felt to be near her after not getting to hang out much, especially in the past two months. Tenji stood before him and let out a deep sigh, knowing that she wouldn't have to worry about the dreadful walk home because her best friend and now lover would go to the ends to make her happy, as she would for him. Tenji looked up at him, her deep brown eyes never leaving his onyx ones as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his large build, gripping on the back of his green jumpsuit, sighing heavily into his chest. Her heart fluttered, remembering that she could now hold him like this. He was hers now. Guy’s flak jacket draped her arms as he engulfed her in a warm embrace, strong arms wrapping firmly around her, pulling her impossibly closer. Her eyelids fluttered shut, comfort washing over her as he began to rub his large hand soothingly up and down her back making her eyelids feel like a ton of bricks as she finally gave in to keeping them closed. She relished in the heavy slumber that quickly crept up on her feeling like she was sinking deeper and deeper into her lovers addicting hold, but it was cut short as she was abruptly interrupted by the rumbling of Guy’s hard chest, a deep chuckle leaving his lips as he felt the weight of her body dip further into his. “Someones ready for a nap I see?” he spoke placing a soft kiss on her forehead, “Mmhmm”, was all Tenji had the strength to say, too tired to move her mouth into actual words, revelling in the pleasant warmth Guy’s soft caresses provided—despite the afternoon heat—bringing his fingers to brush the coily strand that escaped the loosely tied bun at the nape of her neck and tucked it back into place. Attempting to tuck the one strand in, the whole bun began to fall apart and Guy being the sweet bean he was,decided to fix the whole thing for her. Speaking to her, he continued to work on it, gently detangling her hair from the scrunchie that failed to keep her thick, dark brown coils neatly bundled up. “How about I take you home and help you wind down?” , he continued, finally able to pry the scrunchie from the last little coil that wouldn't let it go, careful not to hurt her. “Miss you”, she sounded muffled, snuggling further into his chest, a pang of happiness filling her chest at the action, taking in her favourite faint scent of lemon and a much stronger earthy smell. Guy began to softly brush her hair back with his palms, making sure to pull all escaping strands into the ponytail he was forming in his fist at the nape of her neck, now securing it all with the scrunchie. “Well let's get going precious”, he sighed out, gently prying himself free from her tight grip around him, quickly silencing her whine, turning around and gently tugging at her arm, easily pulling all her weight onto his back. A move that she was all too familiar with, Guy always treating her like the ‘precious flower’ he always described her as ever since they were younger. Her heart leaped along with him as he jumped up onto the nearest rooftop, maintaining a firm yet gentle grip on her thighs, a faint sigh leaving her lips and excitement bubbling up from the pit of her tummy, pleasantly spreading around the rest of her body as thoughts of the cuddles and attention she was going to receive clouded her mind. Why didn’t they get together any sooner? Not only did she have a whole entire week off, but she also scored time with her lover. It couldn't get any better than that.

#might guy #gai smut #gai x reader #might guy imagines #black women #naruto imagines

85 notes · View notes

mythicamagic · 3 years ago

Note

“Call it a truce”

(For the prompt if you’d like)

They'd crossed paths eight times now inside the godforsaken maze. Naraku had placed them under some sort of spell- Kagome wasn’t totally sure if her friends were also somewhere inside. It had all happened way too quickly. One second she’d been fighting alongside her comrades- the next, waking up inside a bizarre hellscape.

Sadly the only person she’d seen thus far was Sesshoumaru of all demons. When they’d first bumped into each other- blue and gold had narrowed- both quickly turning in the opposite directions.

Gradually, however, time wore on. A continuous mist obscured every corner of the black maze, its towering walls strangled by twisting, thorny vines. Red skies hung overhead, a barrier likely preventing Sesshoumaru from flying upwards, otherwise he would've escaped by now.

Kagome had just one arrow and one weathered bow. No food, and no water. Just the clothes on her back and strung out nerves, wits starting to fray at the edges. Her footsteps sounded too loud in the empty space. The mist kept rolling, making her paranoid- imagining salivating demons and evil spirits haunting her steps.

Am I going to die in here?

Gritting blunt teeth, Kagome let out a frustrated noise- wrapping her hands around the nearest thorny vines and letting reiki burst free from her fingertips. Maybe she could just blast her way through the wall. Pink light glowed like a signal flare, shimmering and giving her a brief taste of renewed hope.

“It will not work.”

She frowned, registering Sesshoumaru’s acerbic tone. Just as he’d said, when her holy light died, the thorns remained.

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, finding him closer than expected. She shifted warily to maintain some distance. They’d refrained from talking so far during their encounters in the maze. This was unexpected. And worrying. If Sesshoumaru was out of options, things were dire.

“Flying is a no go, I’m guessing?"

He stiffly nodded in response, head tilting back to gaze hatefully at the high walls. Kagome shivered, wrapping both arms around herself. “Damn it. I have no idea what to do. I can sense Naraku’s youki but it's everywhere so there's no chance of pinpointing him. It’s soaked into the air like gasoline."

"I am also unable to locate the wretch."

Kagome blinked, glad he was reciprocating conversation.

"We're locked in a spell or under a curse, I’ve got no doubt about that. I just don’t know if these are our real bodies or not…”

Were they trapped somewhere mentally? Caged like birds?

Sesshoumaru levelled a look down to her hands, gesturing with a claw. “The cuts do not hurt?”

Kagome blinked, flexing her fingers. She hadn’t even realised they’d been pricked by the thorns. “N-no.”

“Then it appears he has either somehow trapped us within a space that has absorbed our conscious minds or put us in an area that dulls the senses. Perhaps a keeper box of some kind," Sesshoumaru said easily, as though he did this all the time.

Kagome’s heart pumped at a dizzying speed. Keeper box. She'd been in one of those before. The face of sage Tokajin came to mind. “Crap,” she whispered.

"Unpleasant memories, miko?" a lofty, entertained tone brushed her hearing.

Kagome sneered half-heartedly, "it's nothing."

Sesshoumaru's eyes glowed, smiling. As if he could see right through her. "Hn."

“We gotta get out of here," she said dismissively. "Since this is Naraku we’re dealing with- I doubt just finding the centre of this maze will let us get outta here and break the curse, and knowing him there’s no exit.”

“Hn, and yet I can think of nothing else after trying everything."

Kagome gave him a sweeping glance over, swallowing. She hadn’t seen him since he’d nearly killed Kohaku- still thankful he’d released the mind controlled boy.

They were still technically enemies despite a shared goal of killing Naraku.

Steeling herself, Kagome took a breath. She then boldly stuck a hand out towards him. “Let’s work together. We haven’t got much choice. Call it a truce.”

Silence.

Kagome chanced a look at his face.

Sesshoumaru merely stared at the offered hand unblinkingly. Kagome giggled weakly. “A-ah, you shake it. It’s an ‘across the seas’ type of gesture to show we’re sealing a deal.”

Interest livened his animalistic gaze. He briefly seemed considering, perhaps wondering about her origins. Long fingers unfurled from his palm, clasping her hand strongly. The shock of skin to skin contact and sharp claws nearly jerked Kagome enough to rip her hand free. She forced herself to stay still, feeling a surge of something shoot down to her toes.

He was warmer than expected. It surprised her that callouses roughened his palm, likely from years of swordplay. She'd always figured he was too inhumanly perfect to have such a thing. Sesshoumaru blinked slowly, remaining locked in a stare. For a moment, Kagome dumbly admired his pretty white lashes.

She caught herself staring and briskly shook his hand, prying her fingers free before gesturing to several pathways, cheeks red. “S-so which way?”

Mokomoko’s soft fur caressed the bare flesh of her lower thigh in passing as Sesshoumaru stepped towards one. “I have yet to take this path. Stay close, troublesome miko," he threw over one shoulder. "I will not slow down for you.”

“Please don’t. You walk slow enough as it is,” Kagome griped, following.

---

Demons began littering the narrow, claustrophobic spaces within the maze. Kagome had to duck and weave around Sesshoumaru as he killed them with acid or fierce swipes of his claws. It forced them to get up close and personal, occasionally plastering miko and Daiyoukai together.

His scent wafted into her unwilling nose more than once- masculine and sharp, reminding her of thunderstorms. Since she couldn’t use her reiki with much finesse yet and the close quarters put her archery skills at a disadvantage, Kagome tried her best to be helpful.

“Behind you!” she’d yell, ducking under his arm before grasping his sleeve. “On your right!”

Sesshoumaru dispatched enemies without argument or complaint, calmly moving on once they lay dead.

As time dragged on, Kagome’s legs began to ache from the endless walking. Her stomach grumbled near constantly. Her limbs and body were becoming weak.

She didn’t breathe a word about it- though noticed Sesshoumaru’s lingering attention. Turning a corner, she stumbled, an arm catching her around the waist, steadying.

Kagome’s belly fluttered, and she quickly straightened. “Thanks.”

“Hn.”

They book occasional breaks, but respite was near impossible with the continued droves of enemies. After what she could only guess to be at least 17 hours- though it felt like days, they finally arrived at the centre of the maze. Exhausted, Kagome kept a hand buried within mokomoko to keep her upright, leaning against the stability he offered. They’d shed a lot of restraint about touch around hour 9 of their journey.

As first suspected however, there was nothing in the middle of the maze. Just a plain space with a single fountain. They hadn’t come across a single exit either.

Kagome’s knees quivered a little, “d-do you have a plan B?” she rasped, throat dry. What she wouldn’t give for some water.

Sesshoumaru stared grimly ahead, slowly lowering his calm attention to her. If she could hazard a guess, he was likely thinking he could survive. He’d weather the storm of hunger and dehydration much longer than she.

“I suspect the reason Naraku lingers is because he predicted I would kill you,” his velvety voice was completely at odds with his words.

Kagome stiffened, leaning slightly away from the warmth of luxurious furs. “...That would make sense,” the admission slipped out, “he’s a sadistic prick. He’s probably watching us right now, getting his kicks from seeing us struggle.”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, lifting a clawed hand. The sharp points gleamed. They could tear through her supple flesh and bones with ease. Kagome had witnessed it enough times to know.

Rendered completely exhausted though, she had little room left for fear. She stared at him blandly, falling quiet.

He arched a brow, resting those deadly claws against her flushed skin, gradually unfurling to hold her neck. “You will not resist?”

“I’ve never taken you to be the kinda guy who would take the easy way out,” Kagome muttered, raising her chin. “Am I wrong?”

Was it her imagination or did his pupils dilate a touch?

She shivered, feeling the pads of his fingers drag against the nape of her delicate neck, thumb resting at her throat.

“No,” he rumbled softly, gripping tighter and drawing her in closer. “But since we have an audience, miko,” his voice lowered, “let us give him a show.”

Blue eyes widened- seconds before lips crashed to hers. Kagome gasped- and a sinuous tongue took advantage, shoving inside to plunder her mouth. Sensation slammed into her gut. Suddenly she was immediately aware of everything. The warmth of his palm, the dry rub of his callouses along her neck. The goosebumps rising on her flesh. How his tongue skilfully played, twined and slid against her own- and she found herself responding.

His lips were hot and quick across her own, firm and yielding and then parting to meet her tongue with his anew. Kagome’s breath shuddered. Her entire body thrummed. She found herself touching the fine, soft locks of silver hair behind his ear, strands running through her fingers like water. Their mouths broke apart, and Kagome could only give a breathy gasp as he sucked along the bent arch of her throat.

“Behind me, to the left,” he whispered, kissing her flesh bruisingly hard.

“I know,” she panted.

It happened quickly. They moved in sync- Kagome reaching for her bow and nocking her single arrow while Sesshoumaru turned, angling her to fire at the faint ripple in the sky they’d both sensed the second they’d kissed.

While the blazing firework of pure holy energy streaked into the air, the Daiyoukai followed its progress, flying with Kagome in tow. She held on around his shoulders, praying with all her might it would break through.

Her arrow pierced the demonic barrier- shattering the weak spot immediately. Sesshoumaru broke through, leaving the world of red skies and unsolvable mazes behind.

---

Kagome sucked in a gasping, strangled breath, shooting upright.

“Kagome! She’s awake, guys!”

Putting a hand to her head, she looked to her side- only to be greeted with the sight of Sesshoumaru sitting up from the ground, both of them having been sprawled out. Around them, battle raged. Inuyasha was fighting diligently, swiping madly at continuous rounds of regenerating tentacles.

Miroku and Sango seemed to be on guard duty, having been defending their unconscious bodies. Shippo immediately buried his face in Kagome’s arm, holding onto her. “You’ve been asleep for a good hour after you were both hit by that attack! Naraku kept trying to kill you! Ah- I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Kagome comforted him with a few gentle pats upon his head, murmuring softly. The shifting of weight caught her attention, and she watched as Sesshoumaru stood. He sneered softly to himself, “I do not know why you saw fit to protect this one, but I did not need your aid, humans.”

“I told ya!” Inuyasha shouted from somewhere in the distance.

“We couldn’t let you be absorbed by Naraku or he’d be even more formidable,” Sango griped.

“What my friends mean to say is- you’re welcome, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Miroku amiably smoothed over the situation.

Sesshoumaru grunted, securing his swords in place. Then, slowly, his eyes lowered.

Kagome exhaled a shuddering breath. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, cheeks burning with all the voracity of a fever, chest light and heavy all at once. Sesshoumaru’s gaze fell to the subtle parting of her mouth, before looking her in the eye for just one more lingering moment. He then moved out from behind the protection Sango and Miroku offered, racing headfirst into battle.

He just did it to break the spell, that’s all.

He’d kissed her to help flush out a weak spot from their enemy, which had opened from Naraku's shock- having lost brief control of the spell. Thinking about it as anything more than that would be foolish.

Shaking herself, Kagome followed suit. She grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, pushing down all confused thoughts and sensations that Sesshoumaru’s wicked mouth had elicited- entering the fray alongside her friends.

#sesskag #sesshoumaru x kagome #sesskag fanfiction #sesshoumaru #kagome higurashi

66 notes · View notes

the-last-kenobi · 4 years ago

Note

bad things happen bingo -- passing out from pain with Obi-Wan? ps, good luck moving!! I know you can do it!! <3

Yes!! I got this request almost at the same time as @willowworkswithwords similar one, so I decided to do them both! 🤍 (and thank you for the well wishes!!)

(Note for anyone who is interested in making a request: I already have prompts for: Setting a Broken Bone, Tampering with Food/Drink, and Public Execution/Torture. All of the other squares are fair game!)

—

Obi-Wan lifted his head from the filthy stone floor.

There were footsteps rapidly approaching, three or four sets of them, urgent and hurried.

A weary smile tugged at his lips, straining the still-fresh wounds that bled across his face, seeping the taste of copper onto his tongue. It seemed his captors were finally in a hurry, which meant that rescue must be close at hand.

He wouldn’t lie here helplessly. The General clenched his teeth around a groan as he dragged himself to sit upright, his legs bound at the ankles and his hands cuffed painfully behind his back as they had been for days without relief. The room swam before his eyes. A bad sign.

Obi-Wan lifted his chin defiantly as the door to his cramped cell was flung open, and over the threshold poured four familiar figures, unfriendly acquaintances from his past two weeks in captivity. “Gentlemen,” he said derisively. A cut in his bottom lip split and began to bleed profusely.

One of the men remained in the doorway, peering anxiously up the hallways. The other three converged on the Jedi.

The leader, a middle-aged and heavily scarred Arconan, struck him directly across the face.

For all their repetition in holo-dramas, Obi-Wan reflected dimly, a well-aimed slap across the face was nothing to be shaken off in a second. His vision blacked out for a few moments and it felt as if his head and limbs were all being pulled in separate directions; his stomach, already weak from hunger, rolled nauseatingly.

When he regained his senses, he found that the other two were handling him roughly, forcing him to lay on his back, pinning him in place as he began to struggle.

The Arconan loomed over him, a disgusted sneer on his face. “I promised I would break you, Jedi,” he spat.

“Well, you know what they say, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Obi-Wan replied, still fighting the other two as they reached behind his back and broke the cuffs, yanking his arms out and pinning them to the floor. His limbs screamed in protest at the sudden change.

“I can keep it,” his captor hissed. “Sadly I won’t be around to witness it, but knowing it’s happening will be almost as good.” He raised his hand, and something gleamed silver in the dim light.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, and he thrashed helplessly, his muscles sore and unwilling, his head spinning, his arms and legs still pinned in place. “I won’t break!” he shouted, determined not to cave in to fear. “You cannot break me!” The Arconan knelt and in a single movement had placed the needle into the Jedi’s flesh and injected it.

“Are you a betting man, Jedi?” the Arconan asked.

For a single, suspended second, everything was fine. Obi-Wan was still trapped, still struggling, but everything was fine.

And then fire erupted through his veins.

A level above their heads, Cody’s soul seemed to lurch out of his body as an inhuman scream of pain reverberated through the halls.

Obi-Wan felt pain in every possible portion of his body.

Nothing so simple as an aching head or a broken limb, or even a whole-body feeling of weakness and discomfort that drugs usually caused.

No, this — this —

He felt as if he could suddenly feel each individual atom that made up his physical body.

And each atom was in unimaginable pain, shrieking, tearing, burning anguish, as if he were being torn apart slowly.

He felt, vaguely, that perhaps he was still lying on that cold stone floor, and that perhaps he saw the four Separatists fleeing out the door.

But nothing, nothing,

nothing compared

to the pain.

Obi-Wan’s next scream stretched his jaw so wide that he felt something snap. The anguish did not increase.

It could not.

There was no room for it to grow.

There was only this. Unceasing. Unendurable.

Pain.

And a face. Perhaps a hallucination. Cody, leaning over him, mouthing words Obi-Wan could not hear beyond his own deafening screams, the pain that drowned out all his senses.

He thought he saw Cody’s face crumple.

He thought he saw Cody cry.

And then the pain ate away at his eyesight and Obi-Wan thought of nothing and saw nothing.

Time moved so strangely.

He was awake, sometimes.

Other times, he was not.

It was not sleep. It might have been unconsciousness. Or maybe his senses simply stretched themselves too far and then resorted to empty, black numbness before they reset and all the pain came rushing back in. Like a void between true consciousness.

When he was in that void there was very little thought. But he knew that the void was never long enough, never enough relief.

But when he returned to himself, everything was so different.

One time he woke and found himself on a stretcher, watching the sky go by as he was rushed away, away, and he was screaming and thrashing and he fell from the stretcher.

The next time he was conscious, he was strapped to a med-bunk, and two medics were leaning over him, talking and talking and talking.

The time after that, he was lying facedown on the floor, which seemed odd, but there was no room to ponder it as he tore his throat out screaming again, and by then he was so used to the sound that it took him several seconds to hear it.

The next time he awoke, he caught a glimpse of Anakin’s horrified expression, felt faintly the strength of familiar arms lifting him up in a bridal carry he would have found embarrassing back when he still had a mind to think with. Obi-Wan’s eyes slid away from Anakin’s and he began, once more, to scream.

“—right here, Obi-Wan, listen to my voice—”

“Master Obi-Wan? Can you see me? I’ve brought you one of your potted plants. There, see? Brightens up the room.”

A hand caressing his forehead.

“Obi-Wan. Focus. Calm your mind. Your friends are with you.”

A machine frantically beeping. Someone yelling.

Glass shattering.

“Strong you are, Master Kenobi.”

“Please pull through. Please.”

A yellow sunburst.

“General? General, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please, please, you have to survive.”

In and out.

Of consciousness. Of breath.

In and out.

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open.

For a very long while, he was only confused. Somehow he was not surprised to find himself lying in a bed in the Halls of Healing, but he could not remember why he was not surprised. His limbs felt strange. Weak, and tingly. His head throbbed. Even his eyelids felt heavy.

It occurred to him that he was surprised that he could feel his limbs.

Why was that?

Memory.

His capture. The holding cell, two weeks of torture.

A drug that had torn him apart.

Endless pain.

Except, it had ended. It was over. He felt weak enough to simply fade into the bedsheets, as if all it would take was a slight nudge and he would just… cease to be. But the pain, the almighty god that had taken hold of him so completely…

It was gone.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to breathe properly and found that tears were sliding down his cheeks. One slipped between his lips and he tasted salt.

A machine nearby beeped insistently, and a moment or an eternity later, Healer Che and Anakin both rushed into the room.

Anakin’s eyes flew wide. For a moment he reeled on the spot, mouthing silently, and then the young Jedi tore across the room and fell to his knees next to the bed, one of his hands scrambling for one of Obi-Wan’s and taking hold of it fiercely. Anakin tried to speak, but only managed a wavering “Thank the Force,” before he began to cry as well. He pressed his forehead to Obi-Wan’s hand and wept.

Healer Che, for the first time in Obi-Wan’s memory, also had tears in her eyes, although she did not go so far as to allow them to fall. She smiled at him from the doorway, some of the lines in her tired face melting away. “Welcome back, Master Kenobi,” she greeted him. “How do you feel?”

Obi-Wan considered this for a moment.

“I feel,” he said at last, his voice thin and hoarse, “like I’ve just won a very unfortunate bet with a very rude Arconan.”

#poor obi wan #I really do abuse him the most #he’s just so pretty #and in dire need of hugs :’)#obi wan kenobi #commander cody #anakin skywalker #tw torture #tw drugs #star wars #my writing #bad things happen bingo

136 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Loved 7

Danny stared miserably at his shredded and ruined toothbrush. He’s been trying to be careful, but… He ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling first an extra row, then, on the next pass, braces he never had, then smooth even teeth, then needles, then something soft and clinging, then normal teeth again, then the almost vampiric fangs he’d become accustomed to over the past week.

His mouth ached constantly, an ever-deepening soreness, accompanied by a need to bite. His friends, especially Sam, were trying to help him manage the pain as well as the urges, but they couldn’t do anything about the underlying cause.

Or about the fact that he was, essentially, teething.

Despite being the only one currently in the bathroom, he still blushed. The whole thing was as embarrassing as it was disturbing. And it was very, very disturbing. And painful.

He could go ask Clockwork about it, ask for help.

The thought made him sway and his eyes flutter, his body yearning for the Dream. Sternly, he pulled himself back into reality. He had decided to only go to the Dream by actually sleeping. He’d been caught missing once too often, and while some of those times were unavoidable – he often had to chase the Ideal of Cubes away in the dead of night, among others – the one when he was making personal visits were not.

He threw the toothbrush away.

The journey back to his room and thence to his bed was a painful, sleepy blur. He wasn’t entirely sure if he hadn’t teleported. It was, after all, something that he could do.

He hid under his covers and dropped into the Dream.

The pain didn’t relent at all. Still, he made himself stop and consider his options.

First, he could try to tough it out, see if it would stop. That hadn’t been working well for him so far, though.

Second, he could try to find a solution on his own. Except he had no idea where to even begin. He suspected that any dentist confronted with the inside of his mouth would swiftly need to see a doctor of their own.

Third, he could go to Clockwork. This was the most and least appealing of his options, as well as the one most likely to get results. Because Clockwork would help him. It was just that… Clockwork would probably do other things, too.

Love was also a factor. Danny Loved Clockwork more than anything, and he sometimes craved Clockwork’s presence with an urgency that surprised him. He knew Clockwork Loved him back just as much. But he was a little scared of that Love, of how pliant and docile it made him act, of how small it made him feel. Not to mention, he feared the reappearance of the gifts he had not accepted.

But… He put one hand on the chain that represented Clockwork’s Love, rubbing the side of a link that was longer than his hand and thicker than two of his fingers together. It was silk smooth and icy, but in a comforting way. He put his other hand on his jaw. It did not throb with pain, but he suspected that was because he had no heartbeat, and even his own soft touch made him flinch.

He blinked tears out of his eyes and watched as they floated away on a breeze. It hurt.

He was tired of hurting. It was okay, wasn’t it, to want to feel better? He was in pain so often and so much. Did he have to endure it?

His hands trembled. So many of the others… He knew, now, that they were just toying with him, just playing, that they weren’t really trying to hurt him, but they did.

The dark mirror had hurt, had hurt more than anything else, but it had stopped, and, since then, Clockwork hadn’t hurt him. Not really. Clockwork had been soft and gentle, and he’d given Danny food and gifts, even if the food was strange and the gifts had strings attached.

He hurt, and he wanted to be taken care of.

Following the chain, he pushed through the Dream. It had taken on the metaphor of an alien garden with uncertain physics. Huge, blobby flowers tilted themselves at his face and vines spiraled into the air without support. It wasn’t a jungle, though. There was no thick overhead canopy, no baleful humidity. The air was heavy with perfume, but that was all it was heavy with.

It had been like this since Danny’s encounter with Nocturne, which was frustrating. He had been unable to shift the metaphor again on his own.

Clockwork rose stark against the not-sky in the middle distance, a great clocktower, a sweeping gothic cathedral. The outlines of the structure wavered, as if behind a curtain of heat.

Something moved in the underbrush, and Danny twisted to try and see it. As he did so, something moved in his mouth and he shrieked in pain.

Crouched on the ground, mumbling imprecations, he massaged his gums. It shouldn’t hurt. His real body wasn’t even here. This was all just a flavor of imaginary that was closer to solid than it should be. It was all thoughts and feelings.

Except those could hurt.

He brushed tears out of his eyes and looked up.

Oh.

Clockwork was much closer, now.

Danny walked through Clockwork’s front door. Clockwork’s avatar was on him almost at once. Danny had to crane his neck to look up at the avatar. Had it been so tall last time? Danny couldn’t quite recall.

What is wrong?

“M’teeth hurt,” said Danny, slurring the words slightly around both his new teeth and the fingers he still had in his mouth. “C’n you help?”

Of course.

The avatar then proceeded to pick Danny up with two of its arms. With its third hand, it gently probed Danny’s lips.

Show me, said the avatar. It wasn’t exactly a request, but it was too soft to be an order.

Danny opened his mouth anyway. He wanted this to be done. Clockwork ticked steadily in the background.

I have just the thing, said the avatar. It started walking deeper into Clockwork, not showing indication of when or if it would put Danny down.

Danny let his mouth close again, wincing as his teeth ground uncomfortably against one another.

“D’you know what’s happening?” asked Danny, stealing himself.

You are teething.

Danny hunched his shoulders. It was one thing to hear Sam and Tucker tease him, quite another for Clockwork, or, rather, his avatar, to say it.

An odd noise echoed in the hall they were traveling down. It took Danny a moment to realize Clockwork was chuckling. A bell began to ring overhead.

They entered a room that contained a large glass basin full of squirming things. Several of Clockwork’s mechanical spiders walked around the edge of the basin, pushing the things back in when they tried to escape. Cushions were arranged on the floor in a loose circle around the basin. A single light shone through a colored window overhead.

“W’t is’t?” asked Danny, unnerved.

Food, answered the avatar.

Danny attempted to twist out of the avatar’s grasp but was held firmly. The collar around his neck thrummed and he stilled.

Teeth, said the avatar, sternly, are ultimately for eating. For acquiring food. As is your venom.

Danny shook his head.

Come, now, said the avatar. This is how to stop the pain. At least for now.

“For now?”

It will return. Teething is simply something the young experience. And Danny was always going to be young.

His heart would have sunk. He’d been hoping—But more importantly.

“Not killing.” He had no idea whether these things were still connected to people, no idea of the damage he could do.

The avatar petted him, pushing hair away from his face. Danny leaned into the touch despite himself, feeling the chain and collar become heavier. Icy pinpricks danced along his wrists and ankles.

You will not, murmured the avatar.

With that, the avatar folded itself to sit on one of the cushions, arranging Danny in its lap. With two hands, it interwove its fingers with Danny’s trapping his hands. The avatar’s other arms crisscrossed over Danny’s chest, holding him close. Finally, it rested its chin on top of Danny’s head. Right now, the collar had shaped itself more like a neck brace than anything else, so he couldn’t exactly duck away.

Then again, he didn’t really want to. This position was… cozy. Comfortable. He felt secure. Safe. If it wasn’t for the pain, he might have been tempted to fall asleep.

With another arm, an unnaturally long arm with too many joints for Danny to count, Clockwork’s avatar plucked one of the squirmy things from the basin. Danny pressed his lips together as tightly as he could without his vision whiting out. He could feel his venom sacs throb as liquid dripped from his teeth, some of it escaping from the corners of his mouth.

Why did the Dream have to pick now to be so, so, so realistic? So physical? He wanted to go back to mist-soft edges interspersed with moments of shocking clarity.

The avatar pressed the thing’s soft, boneless body against Danny’s lips. The scent of it was a key in Danny’s mind that unlocked a vibrant hunger. He bit, his fangs sinking all the way into the thing’s not-flesh.

The relief was instant and much, much greater than when he’d bitten into apples. A pleasant numbness spread across his senses, even as the avatar stroked him reassuringly. It took far too long to force himself to disengage.

The puncture wounds on the things skin healed almost instantly, and Clockwork’s avatar threw it back into the basin, still squirming. Danny licked his lips as the avatar retrieved another.

By the time Danny was satiated, his mouth hurt much less, and he was also completely exhausted. Eating should not take so much energy, but it did.

The avatar cleaned Danny’s face. Time for a nap.

“Nap?”

It is helpful for digestion, said the avatar, before standing again.

Danny, feeling unbalanced, grabbed at the avatar’s robes. He blushed. He was being carried like an infant.

After another journey that both lasted forever and no time at all, they came to another door. Beyond it was a room with soft, cloth-covered walls and a variety of interesting objects with both possible and impossible configurations. There were designs on the walls in colors that Danny could not name but which were nonetheless soothing. In the center was a sunken area, like a reverse dais, filled with pillows, blankets, and other soft objects. A ring of twisting, luminous runes surrounded it.

The intent of the room itched at his mind. He had never seen anything quite like it, and yet it was familiar.

Your room, said the avatar, although it is temporary.

It hit Danny, then. His room.

This was a nursery.

Something else bothered him. “Temporary?”

We are making another room for you. A permanent one. It is not yet ready. For now, this will serve.

“Where?” asked Danny, curious.

In my heart, little love.

Danny felt himself smile. That would be nice… to be in Clockwork’s heart… forever…

The avatar placed Danny in the depression and made a nest around him out of pillows and blankets. It put a stuffed rabbit- or something near enough to a stuffed rabbit for Danny not to think too much about it- into his arms.

One more thing.

Danny blinked up at the avatar, slowly.

We had intended to save this for later, but… It brought out a box that looked oddly familiar. Slowly, it eased open the lid and a thick black smoke oozed out, condensing into a shape like a dog. The dog bounded into the pit and snuggled up next to Danny.

“A puppy!” said Danny, delighted.

I made note of how you said your human parents, there was some derision, there, would never let you have a dog. He will keep you safe. The avatar put a hand on Danny’s head, and then on the dog’s. I infused it with your human hate, it murmured. I thought upon your words regarding it- of reason and safety. And, so, any who would give you cause to hate, any enemy that would be so dear to you, this one shall feel that in your stead, and destroy them.

That really, really should have woken Danny up a bit. Should have scared Danny. Perhaps, if he didn’t feel so nice and warm. As it was, he only hugged the dog closer. Implications, terrifying as they were, could wait for later.

Sleep well.

The lights went dim. The avatar faded away, although Clockwork was, of course, still present inside himself.

From this position, Danny could see the other thing the room resembled.

A womb.

#danny phantom #dannymay 2021 #dannymay #dannymay 2021 day 21: teeth #loved #eldritch abomination au

130 notes · View notes