#combat boots Tank soon

[artcalledoddities]

Not Actuality Reality, Folks Nah folks, after putting out some feed Started whistling called in a female cardinal; it’s still Winter And she with her tail feathers just a dancing a bouncing from limb to limb Looking It’s not even Spring yet, that Cardinal took me by surprise with my mating calls She just in from flying got me slinging & inspired! ^ > From Bull to Bird have I spoke upon being a; Tiger? Soldier? Artist? Pimply TeenAnger? Nerdy Speck? Cardboard Fanatic? • Don’t chuckle, till you know or perhaps You do, well Lady Introduce yourself, Gorgeous, a need to die for, I’ll be your Outlaw Lover ~Worldly News~ Just In, Slinging Song Whipping Roping in the Belt Buckle Without Spurs nor Lasso My Voice a Whip New Wave Pistol Grip Synth Bullets Gangsta Spraying Away Just Parked at the Station Western in Madness I Carry On, Just me without a horse Day in day out, I sought relief I write • Not actuality reality, I’m no Cowboy Give me combat boots or snooks And bird feed! Thank you For Reading It’s F’ing Great Here O L K S

[corpsekiller]

i have nothing to say for myself, this is just very self-indulgent. despite it all, i still hope you like it <3 though it isn't proof-read yet, so please be kind and ignore any typos!

PAIRING. pro hero!katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader (barista)

WARNINGS. language, mentions of blood and scars, katsuki is sorta an arrogant piece of shit

MASTERLIST

currently thinking about pro hero!Katsuki in his early 20s who refuses to fit into social norms — he shows up to press conferences dressed in sleek black clothing, the sleeves of his turtleneck rolled up to show off the tattoos covering his scarred arms, muscles tensing and flexing beneath his inked skin as he reaches for the water bottle his assistant placed next to the microphone.

Silver rings adorn his fingers — heavy jewelry that catches the flashing light of cameras snapping picture after picture with a dangerous glint that matches the sharp smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth when a journalist asks a peculiarly intimate question about his love life. He barks out a laugh, low and rough, followed by a careless fuck off, that's none of ya business — a reply that causes her to blush and scramble back into her seat as the next reporter gathers the courage to speak up.

When he‘s off duty, Katsuki is seen walking down the busy streets of the city in ripped jeans and heavy combat boots still stained with the blood of the villain he fought mere hours ago, the black tank top he wears stretching across his broad back and clinging to his body in a way that leaves little to the imagination.

Each movement shifts the thin fabric just enough to reveal more of the intricate dark lines of ink that trace his arms, curling up from his wrists to wrap around his biceps, traveling along his shoulders and disappearing under silver chains dangling from his neck to sprawl across his back and up to wrap around his throat.

Blood still seeps from an open cut beneath his exposed collarbone and bruises blossom on the edge of his clenched jaw, tinging the bare skin of his face in deep purple and blue that causes passers-by to gasp in mere horror. Some of them point at him, others only whisper behind raised hands, gaping at him with a hint of fear and admiration.

He only gives them a knowing smirk — the wounds he unashamedly carries from the battle are nothing but a badge of honor to him.

There‘s something so unapologetically captivating about him — a certain kind of controlled violence in every step he takes, an intensity that dares anyone to approach and promises a challenge if they do.

People scramble out of his way without even realizing they‘ve done it. Katsuki deliberately continues his path down the crowded sidewalk, casually adjusting the flannel shirt tied low on his waist before he enters a small coffee shop around the corner and ignores the crowd of fans that follows him soon after, heading straight past the queue as if the entire place belongs to him.

Perhaps it does, judging by the star-struck gazes of every customer he walks by, letting him pass without a single complaint.

"Americano," he says bluntly, voice low and rough, letting his words sound more like a command than a simple coffee order. He doesn‘t tack on a please, merely pierces you with a sharp glare as if he expects you to immediately drop everything you‘ve been doing to make his order.

Of course, he's right.

For a moment, you only stare at him. His hair is tousled, ashen strands disheveled from his fight against another villain you‘ve watched on the news earlier, but now that he‘s standing right in front of you, so close that you can see the small scar that runs along his cheekbone, you notice that his body isn‘t only decorated with blank ink.

No, there are piercings, too many for you to count in this short span of time, but the sight alone causes your knees to buckle. There's a silver barbell going through his eyebrow and two studs glint along the side of his nose, but what catches your attention the most are the delicate rings that adorn his lips, catching the light just at the corners of his mouth that are now quirked up into a devilish smile.

"Uh, coming right up!" Your voice comes out a little shakier than you‘d like and you clear your throat, quickly dropping the task at hand to busy yourself with the espresso machine and make his coffee as fast as possible, because—

Well, it's Dynamight.

You can feel his eyes on you as you work and although you don‘t dare to look up, too focused on not messing up, you catch a glimpse of his reflection in the machine — the set of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow and the way his piercings glint dangerously when he clicks his tongue in mild impatience.

He leans against the counter, tattooed arms flexing as he adjusts the rings on his fingers and runs a hand through his hair. The fangirls behind him squeal with excitement, screaming incoherent phrases at him that not even you can decipher, though he doesn‘t seem to pay much attention to them anyway. Instead, he‘s solely focused on his order and, briefly, on you.

After a few minutes, you finish up, managing to keep your hands steady as you place the cup in front of him.

"A-Americano... for you," you mumble, trying to keep your tone even as if your pulse isn‘t racing just from standing so close to him.

Katsuki’s gaze drops to the cup, then shifts back to you, something unreadable in his eyes as he lifts it to take a slow sip, watching you over the rim. For a second, you think you catch the faintest hint of a genuine smile on his pierced lips before he carelessly tosses a few bills on the counter — more than enough — and nods, turning to leave without another word, his attention back on the door and the crowd still clamoring for a piece of his time.

Katsuki is nearly out the door when he glances back and offers you a sharp grin, letting his tongue dart out to lick over his bottom lip as he lets his eyes wander over your figure with such intensity that you momentarily forget how to breathe until the coffee shop around you begins to spin from the lack of oxygen.

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you with the faint scent of coffee and leather, and the lingering thrill of an encounter you know you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

Taglist: @justwolosers

[starryeyedjanai]

bet.

steddie | 2.8k

read on ao3

Happy Birthday @wynnyfryd 🥰🥰🥰 I've had this idea floating around in my brain for a while now and seeing it was your birthday prompted me to finish it 💕

---

It's his first time in Indianapolis as an out bisexual, so of course Robin takes him to a gay club - to experience the drag queens and to see other queer people having fun, she says.

It's a little overwhelming, the bright lights and the music and the people. But he's having a great time, people watching and drinking virgin daiquiris and talking with Robin.

She's been here before - she came with Vickie when they were still together one weekend and they had a blast. So when Steve figured his sexuality shit out and came out to her, this was the first place she wanted to take him.

Now, he can see why. It's a haven of sorts. Gay men dancing together and kissing each other, gay women getting cozy in the booths, drag queen and drag kings about. He hasn't felt like he's belonged somewhere in a long time, but it kind of feels like he belongs here. The atmosphere is welcoming and kind.

They dance a little before everything gets overwhelming and then they find an empty booth to sit down and sip at their drinks in.

Robin keeps trying to encourage him to find someone to kiss so that they can call this night a success, but he keeps telling her that no one has caught his eye. And it's kind of true. He's seen some men that he thinks might be his type, but they're all paired up with men who look nothing like Steve. Even then, the few people that have caught his eye weren't right, somehow.

He keeps holding out, hoping to find someone that makes his heart skip a beat, or whatever the appropriate cliche for a gay club is.

And it. It happens.

He glances over at the bar as he's taking the last few sips of his drink, thinking about if he wants to brave the crowd at the bar, when he sees him.

His heart doesn't skip a beat, but he knows as soon as he lays eyes on him that he wants him. He's beautiful - and intimidating.

He's sitting facing away from the bar with his legs splayed open, ripped jeans revealing what looks like fishnet stockings underneath them. He's wearing a tank top that's showing off his many tattoos and Steve is struck with the urge to know what they taste like. His combat boots are clunky and could seriously kick someone's ass if they messed with him. His wavy hair is half tied up, a messy ponytail holding his hair out of his face, but the bottom half is freely falling past his shoulders.

He kind of feels like he's been bit by the love bug - he can't take his eyes off him.

He knows Robin is saying something to him, but he can't even hear it. It's all just background noise. He doesn't think he's ever been so captivated by someone before. He wants to put his mouth on him.

"Steve? Oh my god, stop ignoring me!" Robin says and snaps her fingers in front of his face, pulling him from his reverie. He looks over at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, Robbie," he says, looking back over at the guy briefly and yep, he's still just as hot as the first time he looked.

"What was that? Did you see someone you like? You looked like you blacked out for a minute there," she says, a smirk pulling at her lips.

He rolls his eyes. Of course she already knows - his type is people that look like they could stomp on him and he'd say thanks. "Black tank top, ripped jeans, at the bar. I think I'm in love," he says with a sigh. He's way too intimidated to go over there.

She squeals in his ear and says, "This is so exciting! You have to go kiss him now."

"Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not just gonna go up to a stranger and ask if he'll be my first gay kiss."

"And why not?" she asks, stirring her drink.

"Because that's insane," he says. "He's probably already got someone. He's, he's gorgeous. There's no way he's here alone." It's a shame, but it's probably true - he's way too good looking to be here alone.

"There's only one way to find out," Robin says. She leans forward and whispers in his ear, a challenge of sorts.

"You can't be serious," he says to her, questioning his own sanity for even entertaining her for one second.

She leans back in and whispers more into his ear and he groans.

"You're diabolical," he tells her, pulling back to smack a kiss on her forehead. He stands up and takes a deep breath before marching over to the bar. He can't believe he's doing this.

He marches right up to the guy and immediately every word in his vocabulary is gone. He's so fucking pretty.

"Um. Uh, hi," he says, stupidly.

The guy bites his lip and grins at him. He says, "Hi," back to him and Steve is literally going to die, he thinks. He couldn't see it from across the club before, but this guy has a lip piercing, and Steve wants to know what it feels like against his mouth so fucking bad.

"I need you to kiss me," he blurts out, trying not to cringe.

"You need me to, to kiss you?" the guy asks, and this was a bad idea, the worst idea Robin's ever had. There's no way he's going to agree to this.

"So, my friend-" he stops, looking back at Robin - she waves at them. He's trying so hard not to blush as he turns back to the guy and says, "She bet me that I couldn't get a guy to kiss me since it's my first time here. So I was wondering if you would kiss me, so I can win the bet." He's steeling himself for rejection, for this guy to tell him to fuck off or maybe have mercy and let him down gently by telling him he's taken.

But he just smiles, tilting his head at Steve. "Why me?"

"Hmm?" Steve asks.

"Why me?" the guy asks again. "Out of all the guys here, you picked me. Why?"

Steve sputters for a second. "You, I mean. You have to know how you look, right? Like, you're gorgeous."

He grins again, tonguing at his lip ring and Steve is so down bad for him, it's actually insane. "Okay," he says. "I'll accept that answer. Now, if you get your kiss, you win your bet, but what's in it for me?"

Steve is hoping that if he's still talking to him, that means he actually has a shot. He's feeling dizzy with how much he wants to kiss him. He really fucking hopes he can kiss him.

He says, "A kiss?" with what he hopes is a charming - and not at all maniacal - grin.

The guy snorts. Rude. He snorts at Steve and says, "I think I'll need a little more that that, don't you think, sweetheart?"

Steve nods dumbly, says, "I'll split my winnings with you. Would that work?"

He's not expecting it to work, is the thing. He doesn't expect him to say yes.

Which is why he's so surprised when he reaches out and tugs Steve closer by the collar of his shirt. He did not know being yanked around was his thing, but apparently it is because good god.

"That works for me," the guy says, eyes going molten as he looks at Steve.

He can't believe that worked. Holy shit.

He's. He's nervous, he realizes. He's had a lot of first kisses, been on many first dates that ended in him kissing someone unfamiliar. But this is nerve-wracking for him in a way it hasn't been before.

He lets the guy pull him in further by his collar, lets him control when the kiss happens.

The first press of their lips has Steve sighing and opening his mouth slightly, wanting more, wanting to taste him. He kisses him, lets himself be kissed really. He opens his mouth more when a tongue snakes out and presses into his mouth.

Steve's hands come up to pull him closer, to pull - fuck, he doesn't even know his name, yet. He's doing this all wrong. He meant to get his name before shoving his tongue down his throat.

But it's good, the feeling of soft lips pressed against his, the cold metal of his piercing pressing against his mouth, his tongue stroking over Steve's in a way that makes him wish they were alone, wish they weren't here surrounding by all these people. He wants to kiss him and keep kissing him until the breath runs out of his lungs. He wants to put his hands on him, to dip his fingers into the rips in his jeans and feel the rough fishnets against his fingertips.

He pulls his mouth away to gasp out, "What's your name?" because he needs to know, needs to have some connection, some thread to hold onto, to grasp as they're kissing.

"Eddie," he whispers against Steve's mouth. "What's yours?" Eddie asks. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

"Steve," he says before pressing his mouth against Eddie's again. He wants to kiss him forever. He never wants to stop. He wants Eddie to keep licking into his mouth like he owns it until the bartender yells out that it's last call. He wants Eddie to keep holding him like this until Robin drags him away as they turn the lights on in the club to kick everyone out. He wants, he wants, he wants.

He gets a hand tangled in Eddie's hair and gets their heads tilted right so that they can lick deeper into each other's mouths. It's burning him up inside, the way their tongues are sliding together, the way Eddie's licking behind his teeth and sucking on his tongue like he's trying to taste the daiquiri he was drinking earlier.

Eddie tastes like tobacco and something sweet, like he was drinking something sweet before Steve came up to him too. God, Steve wants to know everything about him - what's his go-to drink order, does he smoke, does he prefer beer over mixed drinks, is he seeing anyone, please don't be seeing anyone, god.

He feels desperate, he feels out of control. He wants Eddie to take him apart like he's never wanted anything else in his life. He wants those hands on him, wants to feel the rings on his fingers pressing marks into his skin. He want his hands gripping his hips, sliding down and touching him. He doesn't think he's ever wanted like this.

The only reason they break apart is because someone's elbow ends up in Steve's back and he ends up pushed further into the crease of Eddie's thigh. He feels him hard against him and he knows Eddie can feel how hard he is too. Fuck, it's like everything else faded away when Eddie's mouth was on his, but now that they're not kissing, he's suddenly achingly aware that he's hard in his incredibly tight pants after making out with Eddie for god knows how long.

His face is probably red and sweaty, but Eddie's still looking at him like he wants him and god, does he want him back.

But he pulls back a little, puts some space between their hips because he quite literally can't ditch Robin here go hook up with Eddie, no matter how much he wants to.

He bites his lip and pulls his hand back, the one that was tangled in Eddie's long hair. He puts it on Eddie's chest and asks, "Was that okay?" because he thinks he knows the answer, but it never hurts to hear it.

Eddie huffs out a laugh and says, "Was that okay, he asks. Sweetheart, I think you and I both know that was something on a completely different realm from just okay."

If Steve wasn't blushing before, he definitely is now. He says, "Good, good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

Eddie leans close like he's going to kiss him again. He brushes his lips against Steve's in a dry press - barely a kiss, but it has Steve aching all the same anyway. He drags his mouth along his jaw, just mouthing at it, and it's the hottest thing Steve's ever felt.

He whispers in Steve's ear, "Your friend is trying really hard to get your attention right now," and that pulls Steve right back down to earth.

He pulls away again and turns around to see Robin waving her arms at him. He puts his hands on his hips and raises his eyebrows at her. She waves her hand at him, beckoning him back to their table so he holds up a finger to tell her to hold the fuck on.

He turns back around and says, "I think I'm being summoned. As much as I want to stay and as much as I, like, desperately want to keep kissing you, I should get back to my friend."

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the bar and Steve can't help the way his eyes sweep over him again. Eddie's smirking when he looks back up at him.

"That's fair," Eddie says. "So, what did we win?"

Steve makes a questioning sound, before he remembers what Eddie's talking about. He sheepishly brings a hand up to swipe his hair out of his face where its begun to stick to his forehead. "Oh, uh, about that. There never really was a bet."

"Really?" Eddie asks, leaning forward again into Steve space, like that's the most interesting thing he's heard all night.

Steve shakes his head. "I promised half of the winnings, but the winnings are zero, so half of zero is still zero, you know?"

Eddie grins at him and says, "You're kind of devious, you know that? Here I was, thinking I'd get a prize at the end of that kiss."

"Sorry for getting your hopes up, but I mean, it was a good kiss, right?" Steve asks, boldly leaning forward to press his mouth against Eddie's again. Eddie lets him, lets Steve kiss him, softer than before. Before it was all new and exciting and hot, and it still is, but this kiss is tender, pulling a gasp from Steve's lips when they separate.

"It was a good kiss," Eddie agrees, pecking him on the lips again, soft and sweet.

"Can I have your number?" Steve asks, trying to be brave for once. He got Eddie to kiss him, even if it was under less than truthful circumstances, but he hopes it was good enough to warrant a call back.

"Your friend, is she seeing anyone?" Eddie asks, and Steve's head is kind of spinning at the redirection there.

"She and her girlfriend broke up a couple months ago. Why?" he asks, wondering where this is going. If this guy is actually somehow straight and only kissed him to get with Robin, Steve's gonna lose it.

"I'll tell you what, if you can convince your friend to kiss my friend, you can have my number," Eddie says, gesturing to the girl that's been sitting next to him at the bar this entire time.

And- oh. Oh god, he's embarrassed.

Has she just been awkwardly sitting there while Eddie made out with him? He was half a second away from dry humping Eddie and his friend was sitting there patiently waiting for them to stop. That's embarrassing.

She's cute - she's got this whole cheery, bubblegum vibe to her that didn't make Steve glance twice at her once he had his eyes set on Eddie because the two of them are kind of polar opposites. He didn't think they were here together.

His eyes shift back and forth between them and she waggles her fingers at him in a wave, smirking at his caught out look.

"Chrissy," she says, sticking out her hand to shake Steve's. He's kind of intimidated by her too, but he's got to hand it to her - he doesn't think even Robin would sit through him making out with someone right next to her. He guesses he does kind of owe it to both her and Robin. He and Eddie were making out for a while.

"Steve," he says, lamely. "Sorry for making out with your friend right next to you. Um, I'm gonna go grab Robin now."

They both watch him as he leaves, which makes his skin prickle and his heartbeat speed up. He makes a beeline back to Robin and lets her coo at him for a minute about having his first gay kiss.

She's talking a mile a minute asking about how it was, if he got his number, when Steve interrupts her.

"Bobbin, you are not gonna believe this," he says, and when he's got her attention, he continues, "I think I just found you a girlfriend?"

[wandagcre]

my pumpkin | sam carpenter 🔞

(Sam Carpenter x AFAB ! reader)

Sam wants to try something new with you.

WARNING: smut, dark dom! ghostface! sam, dark sub!reader (they're both crazy), can be interpreted as intersex!sam or cumming strap-on sam, mentions of blood and murder, knife play, possessiveness, breeding kink, slight degradation & humiliation, aftercare +18 / men & minors dni.

Words: 5.5k | [ AO3 ]

In the middle of your night routine, you hear a thud somewhere in the apartment. Deciding to investigate, you left your glass of water in the kitchen. Like on autopilot, your feet already dragged you to approach towards the living room, and your gut was right: there was a tall figure that had caught your attention and a smile made its way to your lips with ease.

There stood Sam, in your unlit living room, her dark thick robe pooling by her combat boots and she was taking off the bloody Ghostface mask. Her hair was haphazardly tied up and she's left with her wifebeater tank top and dark sweatpants — bronze skin currently dripping with sweat. Sam had a blank expression on, maybe a hint of bloodlust glint that lingered on her face, which turned you on — imagining how it must've been so good to see her in the act, especially this one.

You spot a few bruises and cuts on her upper body. You already expected this, walking away for a second to retrieve the first-aid kit and mentally taking note to ice some of her bruises later. 

Sam's hazel eyes lit up soon as she met yours, arms opening for a hug.

"Love. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?"

"You too, Sammy." You affectionately murmur and nestled deeper in the embrace and Sam tightens her grip in return. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

There you were with Sam in the small bathroom in your shared apartment. She sat quietly by the closed toilet, her arm brought up to you. Moments like this were your favorite, having to tend her cuts and bruises. There was something about Sam appearing as both vulnerable and vicious post-murder during the ungodly hours.

"Wanna tell me how it went?" You start as you wipe the remaining blood on her skin then you dab the cotton with alcohol feather light. The curiosity was eating you. 

In return, Sam smiles at how your eyes twinkled as you asked, she pulls away slightly, her hold on you moving to your waist to pull you closer in between her legs. The faint smell of peaches and cigarettes immediately filled your senses.

She sighed, "He was all talk. Pissed me off a bit with that foul mouth he got running whenever he saw a woman..." Sam’s grip by your soft waist tightens at some thought, "It made me think of how rude and disgusting he must have been to you, princess. And that angers me so much."

"But you took care of it, I know you did good." you respond with much appreciation in your tone, as if the conversation that had transpired was casually about the weather. Your hands find their way on top of Sam’s hair, your thumb gently caressing through them.

The corner of Sam’s eyes crinkled. "Anything for my baby. He squirmed like a useless pig." 

The cold room was filled with laughter. It was easy to say that the two of you were truly match made in heaven. The person in question was your boss, who thought he was being sly with his provocative comments and uncomfortable staring at you while at work. He was insufferable to say at least. Even the last interaction you had with him was you trying to play along with one of his nauseous comments because God knows given your position, he’ll always have his way.

Sadly for him, he doesn’t even know it'll be his last day to live. 

Because you didn't even have to tell Sam because she was there to witness, right outside your workplace to pick you up and his sleazy gestures unfolded in front of your waiting girlfriend. Your boss just had to outwardly say that ‘he can’t get enough of your good and shapely presence’ within Sam’s earshot.

Now? He's nothing but a fresh butchered meat fed to a bloodlust Loomis.

You left your girlfriend in the bathroom for some privacy. For a few minutes, you heard water running.  To your surprise however, as you plop down to your shared bed, Sam was across you and there was a pensive look on her face as she leans by the door frame. Her hair remains to be haphazardly tied on, her hands a bit wet.

“I wanna try something on you, baby.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What is it?”

“This.” 

Sam retrieves a familiar dagger from her back – it was the one you managed to get your hands on and gave it to her as a birthday present. Back then, you didn’t know yet whether the Ghostface version of her had existed yet; but you did this anyway after she opened up about her previous encounters given by the reputation that precedes her, to provide her with some sort of an easy to carry and hide of a self-defence weapon. With her words and the dagger on her hand, you were confused to say at least.

“I need you to elaborate, Sam.” you ask, to which Sam bit her lip and sauntered towards you. 

"I’m going to mark you with it. Nothing too deep and crazy, trust me. And you can also say no! I promise I won’t be mad. It’s only a thought, baby.”

“Alright.” You exhale, sitting with crossed legs, looking up to her and see Sam visibly becoming relaxed. “But can I ask why you want to do it? I genuinely just want to know your reason behind it. And how…exactly?”

Sam’s eyes softened as her eyes were pierced onto yours, "It’s basically just carving a small thing to your body. I… I want to mark you in a way that’s personal and close to who I am. Also, I want to remember us – this being my first kill for you.”

You understand now, pulling Sam by her thighs who still stood tall in front of you for a hug. The scent of peaches and cigarettes fill your nose once again, it was oddly addicting and comforting. It was distinctively very Sam.

"So, it's about owning me... in your terms?"

“Yes.” she whispered.

You decide to lighten up the mood, “And you’re sure this is your first kill for me? Not my old friend from my hometown?”

Sam frowned, almost not getting get your joke – but soon she heartily chuckles as the realization dawns upon her. There was another case you suspected, an old friend whom Sam felt very territorial over you when you told her that they confessed when you returned home. Suspiciously, they disappeared, but you find out a year later that they only travelled on a spontaneous trip.

“No. But... maybe I almost wanted to.”

You bite your bottom lip and Sam nudges you with her finger by your shoulder, motioning for you to make space for her in the bed. Now she joins you beneath the sheets, standing on her knees, looking down as she’s still towering over you.

“That’s hot.” 

Sam shakes her head and closes the distance between you two, “Only you would say that…” She holds the dagger on her dominant hand, the sharp metal pointed away from you.

The cold night is coming to a close, barely feels like one, as the room starts to become heated. Especially with your girlfriend’s eyes unashamedly trailing over your body, like you were a delicious prey served as a five-star meal just for her.

“And that’s exactly why you love me.” You say with ease, lips now ghosting near hers, feeling her ragged breath increasing. 

"Exactly, baby. No one compares.” 

Sam tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Your face heats up at the gesture. You didn't feel any different around her, like any other day around her you remained to feel safe. Secured. Not even her retelling stories of her vivid killings can even change that. Perhaps, you were as sick as her, but you couldn’t give a single fuck about it.

With an exhale, you give her the green light. 

"Okay baby. I trust you."

A wolfish grin appeared on her lips, changing so quickly like a mere switch. With that sight, a shot of arousal started to stir on your stomach.

"Remember your colors, baby. Say red and we’ll stop immediately. How do you feel right now?" 

The dagger made its presence known as Sam dragged the pointed end on your bare right thigh with slight pressure startled you – not enough to draw blood – yet it was sharp and daunting, completely contradicting the gentleness in her tone. 

"G-green," you stuttered out. 

“Good girl.” Sam says and tilts your chin up using the dagger. “Now strip for me.”

Your breath hitches once again. The lust is heightened as you feel Sam’s piercing eyes on you, watching you wiggle off your skimpy shorts first, eyes following and so attentive to the growing damp spot on your underwear. Her dagger remained on your chin until it was time for you to strip out of her old loose shirt that you chose to wear earlier and Sam audibly groaned when she found out that you weren’t wearing any bra at all, she zones out in the sight. You feel her scoot on the sheets closer to you – to say that she was a big fan of your tits would be an understatement.

“Fucking irresistible,” Sam lets out a groan and starts to busy herself, already moved onto a different agenda – mouth and teeth getting involved as she marks and sucks all over your tits, your skin becoming thoroughly wet and littered with hickeys. For a few minutes she stayed on worshipping your upper body. While it turned you on, the ache in your cunt was also becoming an issue, making you squirm. “That’s already an appetizer and dessert for me, shit, you’re just so good…” 

Now her thighs have your almost naked body trapped,  Sam remains hovering above you as you laid down. You get a closer look of her taut muscles flexing through the wifebeater she wears as she moves, a few scars coming to light on her body. You realize that she’s about to take you while in her post-murder outfit, making you squirm your legs once again trying to find ease in your arousal. She’s still sweaty and sticky but you honestly can’t care any less. Not when you have her sculpted body ready to pounce on you at any moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to shower first?” You joke and her expression didn’t falter.

Sam only smirked. “We were going to change the sheets, anyway. I planned on having you either way for tonight.” Her hot breath was so close, tickling your exposed skin.

Your body felt warmer, opposed to her cold free hand that slightly startled you as she roughly palmed a cupful of your tits, giving it another good squeeze. 

“Fuck…” you moan, her moves to affect you were rapidly increasing.

Sam teased again by her slow hands going for a sharp tug on your nipple. “We’re getting into it, princess.” 

She lowered herself and finally met your lips for a kiss, the slow and softness of a start quickly dissipated as she grew hungry for more. Still kissing you, both hands trying to cup your face, occasionally darting her tongue on your mouth. Sam moved fast and rough, as though she was quenching her thirst and your lips were the only water left for her. You wouldn’t be surprised if your lips actually bruised. You were starting to feel breathless and lightheaded, trying to match her pace and she pulled away to tug on your bottom lip. She swiped it with her tongue for good measure. You don’t feel her close anymore and yet you still tried to chase her lips again, only to find out that she looked smug as soon as you opened your eyes.

“Just for me.” Sam murmurs to no one.

You dazedly acknowledge her, “Yes, only yours.”

“God, If you only know how you endlessly drive me mad...”

Sam had her palm pressed on the mattress, resting on the side of your head. You meet her halfway by having your elbows propped up, carrying your upper body’s weight. Yet, you don’t know how long it’ll last – not with Sam’s mouth leaving open mouthed kisses on your body; from your cheek, affectionate and soft, to your neck where her nose tickled you and mouth that met where your jugular vein rests – lingering to suck and bite. You don’t even try to conceal your moans to your girlfriend’s delight, the sounds loud enough to make her eager as ever. Your eyes roll on the back of your head, immediately lost to the sensation. With the tip of the knife pressed on your plush stomach all at once and scratching you lightly, though lifted quickly, it made your stomach twitch and you whimper.

You feel unbearably soaked, clearly wanting for more. Completely certain that you're damp enough for your Sam to smell your arousal. Your girlfriend smirks in confirmation and when she moves her hip low enough for yours to meet. When you pushed your core closer against your girlfriend's, Sam already has your ass cupped, squeezing your flesh, and it only made you grind hard enough to feel something hard — 

Oh. 

You feel her.

The walls of your cunt started to rapidly clench on nothing. Sam detaches her hips away from you after a little teaser and your fingers make their way to her hair, then caressing on Sam's nape and your girlfriend arches her neck, groaning in response. She moves lower, wanting to give you wet kisses placed on the soft rolls of your stomach which slightly tickled you in the process. You were about to protest, beyond needy, but it seems that Sam has already read your mind.

"Here it comes." 

You take a deep breath and feel the sharp knife moving in ragged curves as Sam draws with it. She pushes it down a few millimeters more on your stomach. You groan in each line she makes, it stings a little as she continues marking.

"Wanna know what I marked, princess?" Sam regains your attention by tilting your chin up to look at her using the knife, you open your eyes, seeing the metal now painted with red specks of blood.

"Y-Yes.”

"It's the first letter of my name. So every time you take a look in the mirror naked, you'll always be reminded that you're nobody else's but mine."

"Oh fu- fuck, fuck!" you whimper, although now you feel turned on more than anything. 

The knife resumes in contact with your freshly marked area again, Sam drags it as if she's tracing it for the second time on your skin. your eyes are screwed shut — you can't explain the sensation, walking in the line between pain and pleasure. It stings yet it's so addicting. You think that a huge chunk of it was maybe because it was Sam doing it with her honeyed voice and dark tunnel gaze onto you.

"You're doing so good, baby." She praises you, voice deeper than ever.

Sam crawls down lower onto you and you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, curious of her next move. The spot now feels wet as you feel your girlfriend licking your fresh wound and you let out a strangled moan in response.

“Oh god!”

When you made eye contact with your girlfriend, her eyes were heavy lidded more than ever. It’s evident even in the room that’s barely lit, only the lamp on, and you see her wet lips tugged in a smirk. The color red is slightly evident from having to sucked off the trail of blood that trickled out of your fresh wound.

Sam meant it when she said that it'll leave a scar enough for you to see even right after this session. In theory, you should be terrified of how precise your girlfriend is with the weapon, but you aren't at all. You are thrilled in reality, as you know that Sam is using a special dagger to brand you, different amongst the one she uses to kill her victims; this one was shorter and unused, not actually meant to kill. For you and only you.

After all, who doesn't like being proved to be her princess and a special exception?

The aftermath of the knife's stinging hasn't left just yet. As you reel into the sensation, you feel the mattress dip and you see Sam adjusting.

“Sit up for me.” Sam orders and you quickly scramble into position, legs folded, facing your girlfriend. “Color?”

“Still green.” you whisper, eyes becoming watery. “Can you please touch me now?”

Sam doesn’t respond. Instead, there was the dagger, the side of it being dragged across your tits down to your pelvis. Your girlfriend had set your underwear aside. You close your eyes again to flutter out the teariness, then something plunges inside of your core. The object feels foreign against your spongy walls and it's coming in fast and intrusive. It makes you moan unadulteratedly loud, heat spreading all over your body. It was the most relief your cunt has received had felt this entire session; evident in the way your wetness seeped more, yet you’re becoming slightly embarrassed of the sloshing sounds that fills the room as the thing continues to move in and out of your flesh. 

"I wish I had recorded this, princess. Look at you taking it all in..." Sam murmurs huskily and her words feel hot on your body.

“Record?” 

Your girlfriend tilts her head, “Maybe next time,” She winks at you.

You’re a putty mess under her touch. Sam finds utmost joy seeing you unravelling into this form, unable to form coherent sentences as she has her way with you. You meet her entranced look – mouth quirked up and eyes more lust filled. As your eyes trail lower over Sam, you notice that your girlfriend’s dominant hand has the dagger’s flat base carefully held – the handle being plunged in and out of your pussy. The bed creaks more.

"Your pussy is so fucking greedy, taking my dagger so good... I can feel you pulsating in it. Maybe I'm gonna fuck you right after then cum inside of you, as a reward, huh?" she changes the angle of the dagger’s handle, pushing deeper and faster into you and you feel yourself leak even more, grasping on her hair. 

"Oh yes! yes! A-anything you want, S-Sam!"

"Knew you'd agree. My princess who's a whiny slut for me," Sam continues her ministrations, hand remaining precise, and you feel her free arm snake around your soft waist, as if she's trapping you. "you're making a mess in the bed, honey. Are you not embarrassed?"

You feel a twinge of embarrassment, realizing you were lost on riding your girlfriend’s dagger alone while she was simply thrusting the dagger’s handle in and out of you, all with ease, looking like a desperate whore while dripping and making a mess on Sam’s hand at the same time as your pussy overflowed with wetness. 

"N-No, because I love being a slut for you," you whisper truthfully, now growing desperate to chase orgasm. "I'm so so close,"

“For me only.” Sam growls in response, making her thrust it more forcefully as if she was actually stabbing. 

You let out a throaty moan and your hands moving so frenzied to alleviate the release by clawing all over Sam's back – anywhere you can reach and balance upon. Sam deliciously grunts at the action.

Like a cold bucket poured down on your then burning body, Sam dislodged the handle completely from your desperately soaked cunt. Now you’re back to clenching onto nothing, the ache between your legs becoming a real challenge for you to hold yourself for much longer.

"No, no, no! Fuck, I was about to cum, Sam..." you complain, feeling sensitive, tears running on your cheeks.

Sam comforts you, cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears away with her thumb. 

"Patience, baby." your girlfriend hushes you and you find her looking completely lost as you are, giving you comfort. She had her free hand sprawled on your lower stomach. "Suck this for me first. Then I'll let you do whatever, baby."

Sam then raises the knife that was glistening off your own wetness from earlier, making your cheeks heat up. Goodness, it’s coated ridiculously with a copious amount of wetness... which you're supposed to suck. Not that you were new to this – sucking something off for Sam – but the thought still makes you a tad shy.

You’re starting to think Sam enjoys humiliating you this much.

"All of it. C'mon, baby, get to work so we can finish you sooner." 

It's affecting Sam so much based on her raspier voice now. You comply with her order, making sure to put on a show; your free hand gripping on her shoulder and lips now on the handle of the knife, sucking all of your wetness that once coated it. You made sure to look directly at Sam's heavy lidded eyes, who was now completely hazy and her mouth open to your delight. You wanted her to lose her mind as much as you did, making sure that your cheeks were hollowed and moaning along the action, even making your tongue twirl around it. Your girlfriend exhales loudly at the sight you presented her.

“Fuck. You’re teasing me back, princess?” Sam tilts her head, questioning you. She discards the dagger, object clanking, and now somewhere on the floor. 

You were more than happy to see that it got onto her. “Just putting on a show for you…”

Sam has enough, having a taste of your arousal as she grabs you for a bruising kiss. She seems to savor it as her tongue gets involved, as though she’s eager to taste her favorite flavor. "My little slut. Still green?"

"Yes."

"Does it hurt?" Sam traces lightly the now marked letter S wound that resides on your lower stomach.

"No," Your girlfriend smiles at your response and you close your eyes. The ache between your legs makes itself known as you squirm over Sam’s touch. You bit your lower lip in frustration. "Want you inside of me now, please, Sammy."

“Okay. I’m going to make you choose,” She looks you straight in the eye, “Do you want to lay down or to ride me?”

A moan already escaped your throat, “W-what would you like?”

“Don’t answer me with a question, baby. I am asking you.” Her voice is deep and stern, waiting for you.

You look at her still completely dressed – unlike you, all bare for her. You start to feel a little conscious so you decide to immediately change that up.

“Want to undress you and ride you.”

You were more than ecstatic, seeing Sam nod in agreement – you absolutely waste no time in removing her wifebeater tank top, sweatpants, and boxers immediately, appreciating all of Sam’s muscular and sweaty glory. It doesn’t help that she’s got a few specks of blood still somewhere on her body, the eroticism of it all is not lost on you. Her tits were hypnotizing and to see it paired with her hard on, makes you lick your lips in anticipation. You start to understand more why your girlfriend loves body worshipping so much, because you feel just the same as her.

Sam was amused at your dazed expression, so lost that she has to snap you to reality by pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Ride me now, pretty girl.” She rasps out and you quickly get on Sam’s lap. Her length is pressed against your stomach, making your breath ragged and she isn’t even inside you yet.

You align yourself onto Sam, who glides her cock first into your wet folds. Your hands were on a deathly grip, squeezing over your girlfriend’s broad shoulder, and Sam is becoming more unrestrained with you. She huffs, snakes her arm by your waist then to your hips – continuing her motions until she is satisfied with how your wetness thoroughly coated her cock. 

“Fuck, I’m going in now, baby…” Sam’s hazel eyes peer over you, searching for any sign of discomfort. She was only met with your lust filled eyes and opened mouth, easily one of her favorite sights when it comes to you. The tip teases your clit making you moan and finally, she pushes inside of you, making you both groan at the sensation. She's big and girthy, even if it’s only half of her cock that was fully in, and your walls were still adjusting to accommodate all of her. Sam understood this, hence her careful movements, afraid of hurting you by accident. 

“Tell me whenever you’re ready, princess.”

You profusely nod your head in appreciation, “Y-yes, shit, give me a minute.”

As your walls were processing her length, Sam soaks in the feeling of being inside of you. It was so warm and comfortable; both of your single nerves felt like it was throbbing and clenching, and by God, the fucking clenching — you were gripping her cock in a way that felt delicious and so par with her possessiveness — the entirety of you, soul and body, are no one’s but hers. It was a feeling that Sam would never get tired of. 

You’re now fully sinked into Sam’s entire length, eyes getting teary in pleasure.

“You can move now,” 

Sam presses a kiss on your cheek and doesn’t waste a minute to move; Both weights being unminded given the position, the bed creaks louder than ever as you ride her. Your pussy is sopping, feeling soaked as a waterfall. In comparison to your throat, it feels dry with all the screaming you’ve done for Sam, already anticipating that you'll sound hoarse later. Maybe you won’t even have a voice to speak at all.

For a split second you think about the complaints you'd get the next day.

But being sunk deep in your girlfriend's cock, the thought vanishes quickly and you’re filled with so much desperation, hips rolling along with Sam's movements — so fucking close. The burning feeling of the cock against your walls soon dissipated, evident with the faster pace, the skin to skin slapping vibrates throughout the bedroom, your sheets are definitely mixed with wetness and stickiness.

One of Sam's hands was steadying you by holding on your soft and plush sides, the other kneading roughly on your tits. When you look at Sam, you see her eyes moving down and up in appreciation, drinking in your sight. you only moan louder as the sensations in tandem were driving you dripping and insane.

"Gonna fill you to the brim and paint your walls white," Sam’s promise vibrates delectably against your neck, the skin to skin slapping resonates louder than ever and she was pulling half and pushing in the whole of her cock in a rigorous motion. You feel helpless and reduced to a piece of dumb moanings.

"Look at you now, baby. fuck I’m gonna breed you. Not a single drop is going to drip out of this pretty pussy. I bet you'll like that, huh?"

"Y-yes, yes, yes!" 

"With the sounds you're making alone, shit, ‘m gonna cum. You're driving me mad, baby,"

Sam’s fingertips were hard and rough in circle motions against your engorged clit. It was enough to drive you to be equally mad as her, you already know that you’ll be driven over the edge. She indeed filled you to the brim, your pussy welcoming all of her now. The knot in your lower stomach finally untangles – which was much deserved – you had cum hard with Sam’s relentless thrusts, and the relief immediately washed over your body. Now you're heaving on your girlfriend’s shoulder, trying to catch your breath, yet she hasn't stopped her actions still. With a few more thrusts and grunts, you feel your girlfriend finally shoot ropes of warm cum inside of you.

"Don't move just yet." Sam moans against your neck, but it's more of a command. you still feel your pussy pulsating like crazy from your high, thinking that Sam is only doing it to ride it out, squeezing all of the cum that both of you have to release. To your surprise, she only picked up the pace and started to thrust her cock onto your pussy once again. 

"F-fuck, fuck, Sam! I'm still sensitive!" You try to slightly push her away by the shoulder.

Sam won't budge, knowing you'd say your safe word if it were the case.

"Shh. I know you can do more, princess,”

Your eyes were screwed shut and your neck thrown back, lost and savoring the pleasure. You feel how Sam's completely using your body for her pleasure, as she pulls almost her entire length out, tip of her cock still in, only to sink all of her suddenly in a fast manner. Your pussy walls were clenching, afraid that you’ll actually grow another type of heartbeat, as the pressure flows deliciously into you. You seep more wetness in the process. With Sam’s unforgiving pace, you can’t even say that you didn’t like that, being responsible for such insane fueled lust, so you let her.

The cum inside of you from earlier was getting messy as it was starting to leak along with the damp of your wetness in the sheets. If Sam's goal was to actually break the bed, you fear that it'll come to fruition as your girlfriend only continues to move her cock in and out rougher and faster than ever.

"These fucking pretty tits… all for me," Sam says in stupor, licking her lips at your sweaty and red figure. She lets her thumb and forefinger roll and tug on your nipple, then meets your mouth open in pleasure to swallow all of your moans.

Your grip on her moves to her tangled hair, barely tied now, tightened and tugging on her scalp to her pleasure. Sam grunts as she meets your hips rolling, now messy and slowly becoming uncoordinated, and gives a final few thrusts. Soon again, a relief washes over you so soon and you feel so full and insanely warm — Sam had just cummed for the second time inside of you and you just released your high as well.

"I told you," Sam huffed out, lips smirking as she looked up at you. "That I was gonna fill you up like crazy. What do you say about me marking you more, with a heart beside my first name letter this time?"

The feeling of the dagger both it’s sharpness and how she plowed it inside of you flashed quickly and familiar, the sensation still fresh. Your pussy throbs at the thought.

"You're insatiable." Sam chuckles at your words, combing your sweaty mess of hair as you whine half-heartedly at the equally messy appearance of your girlfriend’s suggestion. "And so cheesy. Like, a heart? Seriously?"

Although Sam wasn't affected at the jab in the slightest. She raises an eyebrow instead.

She cups your ass closer to her pelvis, as if there remains to be a distance between the two of you. Your cunt couldn’t help it but pathetically clench around her.

"Says the one who won't get off my cock still." Sam cockily retorts at you as she feels you adjust.

"Touché."

You remain in that same position until Sam notices that you're startled as she brushed her thumb against the fresh S wound. 

She exhales and affectionately pats your plush thigh, "Let's get up before another round, princess. We have to clean that mark up, just in case."

You tighten the grip of your thighs now wrapped around her sweaty lower back refusing to get up.

"Don't wanna. I'm comfy in here." 

You make it a point by keeping yourself snug as she's still inside of you and you clench your walls once again on her cock. Every time you do the action, the mixed fluid inside of you gushes even more, making a squelching sound and you drip a little more not only at the sheets, but as well as Sam’s thighs. Sam moans at this, her neck arched as she reels onto the feeling.

"C'mon you little tease. Say, I'll lift you through it?"

You look at her eyes seriously, "you'll stay inside?"

"Yes, doofus."

From a distance, you hear the television. 

Man, 48, was found dead and stabbed twenty-six times, suspect remains unconfirmed but suggests the Ghostface’s brutal pattern….

“I guess no work for me tomorrow…?”

“And more time for me to ruin you. It’s totally a win-win.”

Sam laughs heartily at your joke and you find yourself joining along with her. You pay no mind, letting your girlfriend scoop you with ease as you make your way towards the sink and she takes care of you. It was safe to say it wouldn't be the last time that they'll be playing with the knife. 

(please practice safe-sex!)

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[summerlovingbaby]

shopping spree

The stroll around Hogsmeade was pleasant, if not a bit cold for Y/N’s liking. Remus told her to wear a sweater, but she didn’t want to ruin her outfit. She wasn’t gonna ask one of the boys because then not only would they be cold, but she would have proved Remus right. That she did need a sweater, and Y/N was nothing if not stubborn.

The mug of butterbeer defrosted her fingertips, and warmed her throat and stomach when she swallowed it, and she knew that they would be leaving soon anyway, James sluggish tread and Sirus’s frequent eyerolling was enough to tell her that. That, and they were walking back to Hogwarts, stopping mostly at stores to peer through the windows or to humor eachother. James buying Remus and obsinly large chocolate bar that was mostly supposed to be a gag gift, but with as much as Remus ate chocolate it would be helpful.

Y/N walked ahead of the group. The butterbeer she drank made quick work to energize her, not to mention the handful of gummy candy she bought at the store that she chewed on as she walked. Not to mention she was excited that she had the evening off with all her boys, no quidditch, no studying, no interruptions. Just her and the boys she deighned to spend her time with.

She almost started skipping until she saw a flash of yellow in a store window, she stopped suddenly in her tracks and turned on her heels, speedwalking to the store as fast as she could without slipping in the mud, and pressed her face as close to the window that she could get without touching it, her breath fogging up the glass. 

James couldn’t help but smile at the sight, Y/N nearly skipping along the path until she came to a skidding halt to stare at something at a store window, hunched over like a kid at the candy counter. He knew she was probably blushing, it didn’t take alot to make her blush, a simple kiss on the cheek, or holding hands, or calling her pretty was enough to make her glow. Sirius who held James hand was poised to follow when James drug him to stand behind Y/N at the store window, Remus trailing behind them, not wanting to be touched, his skin still raw from the recent full moon.

Sirius smiled at her outfit, though simple, it was pretty, though he was sure that she could make a paper  bag look couture. She was wearing a denim midi skirt that stopped mid calf, combat boots with ribbons for laces and a cropped yellow tank top. Her lips were shiny with black lip gloss and her hair was done up in pigtails tied together with a pink ribbon she stole from Remus.

“ Look at that dress it’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed, pressing her head against the glass, her forehead making imprints.

James peaked over her shoulder, standing on his tiptoes to see. Sirius squatting down to meet her eye line to see. The only thing they could see was a ghastly looking bright pink dress that nearly took up the whole window display. Remus was sure that it was heavy enough that the mannequin would collapse under it’s weight if magic wasn’t holding it up. It was covered in large chunky mismatched crystals and layers and layers of tulle.

Remus knew that wasn’t the dress that caught her eye. It was a dress in the center of the store, he had to slightly raise his head to see it, peaking out behind the pink monstrosity someone called a dress. It was a simple yellow dress, that draped off a hanger, the fabric was interlaced with gold glitter, making the dress seem like the sun, even in the fluorescent lights.

Remus angled their heads so they could see the dress too, and they were immediately smitten.

“ Go try it on,” Remus encouraged.

“ No, we’ve been out too long, and you’re tired, let’s go back to the castle,” she said tugging on his sleeve.

“ Go try it on, it’ll only take a minute,” James said pushing her through the door.

It didn’t take much convincing as she scurried through the store, snatchin the yellow fabric from the hanger as a attendant ushered her to a dressing room. The boys finding a seat near a wall of floor to ceiling windows.

Moments later, she emerged from the window, looking like the sun shining through a raincloud. As stunning as the dress looked on the hanger, it looked even better on her. The dress hanging off her shoulders and hugged her figure, especially her lower belly, which despite her insecurity with, it was James' favorite part of her. It glinted like pure gold in the light, and everytime she moved it sparkled.

“ You look beautiful,” Sirius said dreamly.

“ Thankyou,” she blushed.

“ So pretty,” Remus asked, “ You have to buy it,” he says.

Y/N shook her head sweetly, staring at herself in the mirror, adjusting the way the dress sat on her shoulders. “ No, its nearly 50 galleons,” she said, “ too expensive,” she chided.

Money was no issue for her boys, granted Remus didn’t have nearly as much as his counterparts, but had started a lucrative and illegal business a good bit of pocket change. James and Remus nearly had unlimited money, especially Sirus who could spend 400 galleons and not even notice.

“ Too expensive should not be in your vocabulary,” James clucked.

“ I’m not asking you to buy me this dress.”

“ Good thing you’re not asking,” James said still staring, particularly at her chest that was only covered with a thin layer of sheer fabric and satin.

A attendant clicked over, her heels chirping against the tile as she walked over with a shoebox, presenting it to Y/N.

“ These shoes go with the dress,” she said in a thick french accent.

Y/N opened the box, in the box was a short pair of pale yellow chunky heels, covered with the same fabric as the dress. Draped over the shoe, forming pleats, lined with strips of jewels that formed a large bow on the toe.

“ Ohh, try those on,” James says.

“ No, I’m not getting this dress,” she said, “ It’s very pretty, but I cannot justify spending this much on a dress.”

“ It’s imported from France,” Sirus spoke, explaining the price.

“ You’re imported from France,” she clicks back.

Remus, who seemed to busy to be glancing around  the store to engaged in the conversation, he pinged very suddenly behind Y/N, at a pale pink dress with a large bow on the front of it. “ You like that one,” he said, pointing to it.

“ Yes, it’s very nice, but it’s too expensive.”

“ I asked you if you liked it, not how much it cost,” Remus quipped.

“ I could unwrap you like a present,” James muttered, turning to the attendant. “ Can we have one of those dresses with the big bow at the front in size ___?” he smiled.

The attendant pursed her lips and gave him a tight nod, leaving to return moments later with the dress in that size and the accompanying heels and a handful of chunky jeweled earrings. James studdied the earrings in her open palm, talking in quiet voice with Remus about witch pair they liked, deciding on the the large ones, just because they could.

Sirius wandered off, somewhere Y/N couldn’t see, only to return moments later, while Y/N was begging James to put the dress back on the rack, and return the jewelry and the shoes. Sirius stood next to Remus and James, a lacy black thong dangling off his pointer finger, a cheeky smile accompanying it.

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes and motioned quickly for him to put it back, only for him to reveal the matching bra draped over his other hand. The attendant noticed her obvious discomfort and motioned to the lingerie in his hands, “ If blue isn’t your preference it also comes in green, red and black,” she spoke.

“ Red,” all three boys said at the same time.

Y/N violently shook her head, “ No, you’re not buying anything. Lets just leave,”

“ If you let us buy you stuff we can leave.”

“ No we’re leaving now,” she said stomping to the changing room.

“ 7 things,” Sirius suggested.

“ No things,” she yelled from the changing room.

“ 8 things?” James said.

“ Zero!” she said, flinging open the curtain to search for the hanger for the dress/

“ 10?” Remus shrugged.

“ No, no, no!” she exclaimed, she saw sirius eyeing a dress with an inlay of diamonds and finally came to a resolution. “ Fine, I will get the yellow dress and the one with the bow and the shoes, but no jewelry,” she said, snatching the bow dress from his hands.

“ One necklace,” James added.

“ And one necklace that I don’t need, and the..” she leaned close to them to whisper something quietly, “and the painties,” her face going pale when each odf the boys had a new pair of lingerie dangling on their fingers. Remus, a pretty silk yellow slipdress, and James a bright red teddy.

“ Fine,” she exclaimed out of nothing but embarrassment, snatching the stuff from them and stomping over to the counter.

[citruswriter]

Second Meeting/Becoming Close

Listen In With Me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

A/N - Fuck it. Throwback to my Quotev/WattPad days. Time to expand this into boyfriend scenarios. Also I'm saying "getting close" rather than "becoming friends" bc uh... ya boy is aplatonic. So like... fight me.

Previous Part

Stepping out of the shower, you dried off. Today had been a long day at work and you desperately needed to clean off. Your phone vibrated, checking it you saw a text message from April. "Hey! Wanna hang out at the lair tonight? The boys have been asking about you. Guess they like you!" The text read. Contemplating your options, you shrugged your shoulders and texted her back. "Yea sure. Lemme get dressed first tho. Took a shower." Walking to your room to pick an outfit, your phone buzzed again. "Long day I'm assuming? You remember who to get there?" You chuckled softly and texted back, "Girl you have no idea. And yea, I remember. See you soon". Blinking softly, you wondered how bonding with the boys would turn out. You hadn't exactly met another mutant, let alone four to five other mutants. You were nervous, but also excited...

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a wolf neko, I do that cheesy shit where I make Reader wear the turtles signature color, Reader had golden eyes.

Pulling on some black cargo pants, a blue tank top, and some black combat boots, you snagged your phone and house keys. Snagging your grey jacket, you tied it around your waist before grabbing your bike and carried it downstairs. The streets were busy but had luckily begun to cool some as the sun set neatly on the horizon. Pedalling down the winding streets, it wasn't long before you reached the abandoned sewer. You looked for a spot to chain your bike up before lifting the heavy manhole cover. Crawling inside like you had the other day, you found your way to the lair much easier than you had the other night. "Hey guys," you spoke up as you entered. Mikey sprang up to greet you, "Heyyyyyyy dude!" He exclaimed, making you smile up at him. He shook his head softly and pointed at you, "Still not used to seeing those things". He said, referring to your fangs. "And I'm not used to seeing four mutant turtles all over six feet but here we are," you retorted and Mikey couldn't help but laugh. "Fair enough. Oh do you want some pizza? We got four cheese, pepperoni, and Hawaiian!" He offered. You laughed and grabbed a plate, snagging the pizza slices of your choice.

From the mediation room, Leo heard your laugh. Opening his eyes, he blinked a few times and stood from his seated lotus position. "By the way, where's blue?" You asked and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Right here, (Y/N)," he replied, coming into the living room. "Why? You miss me?" He teased softly and you scoffed, rolling those golden eyes of yours. "As if. Just wanted to know where your stuck up ass was," you said back but he saw the way your tail wagged more when he entered the room. "Sure thing blossom. But I think your tail disagrees with you". You couldn't help but sputter out a flustered denial, grabbing your tail and pouting. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a water bottle and chugged it down. "You know, it's not a crime if you don't hate me," he said, gently pushing your head. You flattened your ears and glared at him. "I don't know, Leo. I think the police would disagree," you joked back and he could help but laugh. "Cute. But scoot. My turn to kick your ass at this game," he said, taking the controller out of Mikey's eyes. Perking back up, you grinned at him. "Ohoho. Your fucking on, blue." The next few hours were filled with the two of you jeering and shit talking each other as you two played against each other.

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Raphael x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a cat neko, flirting

Snagging your black shorts, a band tee, and red converse you quickly dressed before grabbing your house keys and running outside. The sun was setting, so it was much more cool outside, making you opt out of your typical bike ride and instead take a relaxing walk. Reaching the manhole, you wasted no time shimmying down and jogging down the sewer halls. "Sup losers," you called out as you walked in, beelining it to April, to share your exhausting day. "Girl I need to tell you about today. So this woman came in with her three kids right? Which is like, fine and all but oh my fucking god were they hyper. Like, legit screaming and running around. At one point, one of the kids ran into the kitchen, so naturally, I picked the kiddo up and he spewed all into my hair." You shivered and April scrunched up her nose in disgust as you recounted your reason for your shower.

"Ewwww. What the fuck? So that's why you took a shower?" She questioned and you nodded. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you felt a hand gently grab your tail. "Sounds like a rough day. Poor kitten," Raph's gruff voice said with fake pity. You snatched your tail out of his grasp and turned to look at him, leaning against the table you had previously been bent over. "The way I oughta claw you right now," you spat back with a glare. "As if you could hurt me, kitten." He challenged, leaning down to be closer to your level, and you unleashed your claws. "Wanna test that statement? I'll add to that scar on your lip," you challenged back. "I genuinely can't tell if you two are flirting or fighting," you heard Donnie say off to the side. You laughed and ducked away from Raph. "Oh please. If I was flirting, this man would know. I'm just bullying him." You giggled, patting Donnie on the arm in reassurance as you passed by him. "Bullying isn't very nice, (Y/N)," Mikey chipped in with a fake pout, knowing that you weren't actually bullying his brother out of malice.

You tilted your head back in a laugh and Raph couldn't help but grin at seeing you getting along well with his brothers. "I'll bully you next, Mikster" you playfully challenged, dropping into a loose fighting stance, tail swaying softly. Mikey played along and dropped into a fight stance back. "Time and place," he shot back. But before the two of you could begin your play fighting, Raph piped back up. "Maybe don't fight in the living room? We don't need Leo scolding us," he said, glancing over to his brother in blue. Leo only rolled his eyes. "You're no fun, Raphie." You pouted back, crossing your arms with a pout and flattening your ears. "Oh I'm Raphie now, huh babydoll?" He teased and you scoffed. "Oh puh-lease." But you grinned at him none the less. "Welp. I'm going to work out. If ya wanna continue to annoy me, feel free to join me," he offered, walking off.

Ears flicking, you followed him. "Sure. Maybe you could use the extra weight to lift". You said and Raph shook his head. "Sure kitten. Hop on." He got himself comfortable on his bench press chair. You climbed up, somehow sprawling yourself across the bar without slipping off of it. He was originally joking but he wasn't going to back out now. At some point, April poked her head in to check on you only to see Raph lifting you on his bar still, your tail gently wrapped around his wrist.

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Donatello x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a moth, Reader is a bit shy, Reader is wearing a dress (wear the damn dress John 🔪)

Humming to yourself, you ordered yourself an Uber before picking out a simple purple dress to wear and brown flats. Snagging your house keys, you made your way down to your Uber. Before long, you had reached your destination. You waited for your driver to leave before stalking down the alleyway beside your "destination" and slinking down to find your real destination. "Hey boys!" You squeaked out and Leo popped out of somewhere, ruffling your hair while being careful to not touch your antenna. After greeting all the boys and April, you beelined it to Donnie's lab, he was apparently working on some big project. "Hey Donnie," you said casually. Despite speaking softly though, this man still almost jumped out of his skin. Taking a breath to calm himself, he looked over to you only to find you giggling at his reaction. "That wasn't funny," he said, tone embarrassed and you simply fluttered up to his level. "Leo said you were working on something," you said, silently inviting him to tell you about his latest project. And talk he did. You fluttered around the lab as he asked you to grab certain tools.

"I'm so sorry. I-I haven't offered you a seat yet," he said suddenly, standing up to get you a chair to sit in. You gratefully sat in the chair, curling up in it and resting your wings. "W-Why didn't you ask for a chair sooner?" He questioned and you shrugged your shoulders. "Well you were talking about your project, I didn't want to interrupt. Besides, I was enjoying getting tools for you and helping," you replied, antenna twitching softly. "You think I can look at your wings today?" He questioned gently and you tilted your head in thought. "Hmmmm. Maybe not today. Sorry, had a bad day at work. Don't exactly wanna be touched". You replied and he nodded in understanding. "I can understand how that feels. I get like that too".

He stayed silent as you began to tell him about your day, occasionally looking over at you and nodding to indicate that he was still listening to you. Eventually, you laid your head down on his table, watching him work as the two of you sat in silence. "You don't have to stay in here, you know," he said gently and your wings fluttered softly. "No I like it in here. It's soothing, watching you work." You replied, sighing deeply. You couldn't help but notice his happy little smile as he focused on his work once more. At some point you forced him to take a break, getting juice and pizza for the two of you. The two of you talked softly, you didn't really understand half of what he was saying but neither of you minded.

"Hey nerds," Raph's voice penetrated the calm environment that had comfortably wrapped the two of you and you both turned to look at him. "We're about to watch a movie, wanna join?" He offered and you turned to Donnie, looking up at him hopefully. He laughed softly, realizing you wouldn't go unless he did. Sighing, he got up and stretched. "Sure thing". You let out a moth squeak, which he couldn't help but internally melt at. You padded after him excitedly, snuggling up to him when he finally got comfortable on the couch. "Is this ok?" You whispered up at him when you felt him stiffen. "Yes it's ok. I'm just... not used to it. I'm sorry." He confessed and you nodded drawing away from him slightly to hopefully make him more comfortable but he gently tugged you back in without saying anything. "How cute," April teased and you shot her a flustered glare.

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Michaelangelo x Reader 🧡

Warning: Reader has white feathered wings, Reader has long pointed elf like ears, flirting on Mikey's end, Reader wears a bra (ur wearing the bra, idc if ur flat chested)

You chose some dark orange sweatpants, a black sports bra, a grayscale jacket that was unzipped, and black some high top boots. Snagging your keys, you grabbed your bike and lugged it down stairs. You took your time cycling to the sewer, cool evening air breezing against your skin. When you finally made it to the manhole, you chained up your bike and jumped down. Stuffing your hands in your pockets you waltzed in. "Hey April," you said, nodding her way. "Heard you had a rough day, angelcakes," Mikey's voice came from the couch and you went to go sit down beside him, fluffing your wings softly to make yourself more comfortable. "Some kid puked in my hair. So I had to shower practically as soon as I got home," you muttered and Mikey scrunched up his face in disgust. "That's disgusting. But at least you're all squeaky clean now!" He said, nudging you softly with his shoulder. "Want something to eat? We got pizza." He offered and you brightened, helping yourself to the food in front of you.

"Need your wings preened again?" Mikey asked after a few minutes of silence as he gamed. You raised a brow and laughed softly, "Enjoyed preening me?" You questioned, tone light and playful. Mikey shrugged. "I don't know. It kind of felt nice to take care of you in such a way. I'm assuming it's not exactly something you let everybody do," he replied, glancing over at you for a brief moment and grinning. You laughed softly and shook your head. "No I don't. Honestly I was joking when I asked you to preen my wings. But you seemed so eager to help that I just kind of, let you. Only other people who've preened me are my parents and April on occasion. But she's not exactly too good at it." You heard April give a "hey!" from across the room and you and Mikey couldn't help but laugh. "But to answer your question, no. They don't need preened. I wouldn't mind a message though." You said, looking up at him. "Your insides or outsides, angel?" He questioned and you almost choked on your pizza in shock. "Michelangelo!" You scolded but you were smiling all the same and he couldn't help but absolutely loose it.

"I'm sorry, I had to," he said before setting his controller down to grab one of your arms, thumb messaging at your wrist. You almost instantly moaned and let you head roll back in delight, ears drooping in relaxation. "Maybe I can make you loud moaner," he teased and you took the liberty of taking your free arm to smack his chest. "I'm going to kill you, Mikey. I swear," you giggled out, wrapping your wings around you gently. "Ok, ok. I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'll stop," he said. Twenty minutes later, you had fallen asleep on the couch from the message he had given you. Mikey returned to his video games, chuckling and already brainstorming new ways to fluster you.

Anyways so that's that. It's cringy, I know. Trust me, I know. Lmfao. Enjoy tho.

[skzdedgf]

He's Inlove W My Body

skzdedgf ©

content : Smut, Fluff (at the end), PWP?, Harddom!Chan, Nonidol!Chan, Subbrat!Reader, Fem!Reader, Spanking, Nicknames (Slut, Doll, Love, etc) , Bondage, Degradation + praise, Oral (m. rec) , Cigarettes + Smoking, Swearing, Hair pulling, Choking, Creampie (wrap fore u tap it!), Corruption kink, Aftercare

warning ! : MDNI! 18+ under cut. (+ A.N)

A.N : This is based on "Gibson Girl" By Ethel Cain!

*puff you blow out smoke from your freshly lit cigarette on your porch. You had just finished moving to the Mid west, where it's peaceful and quiet. Rocking in your chair slowly back and forth admiring the lake near by.

"Love." Chan says softly, you quickly put your cigarette out knowing he hates the smell and to see you smoke.

"Yes..?" you say softly, he clicks his tongue visibly frustrated.

"I asked you nicely to stop smoking if we were going to move out here." you let a drawn out sigh spill knowing he hates when you get any attitude with him. You gulp a little noticing he's walking closer to you

"Y/n.. baby. My doll.. Don't start having a little attitude~" "doll" you loved that nickname especially when it came out of his mouth. You slowly turn to look at him, he was wearing a tight black shirt with mudwashed jeans and combat boots, you love the way he lets his pants rest on his hips so you can see his boxer's waistband perfectly.

"Y/n." Chan said sternly since you we're staring at this waistband a little to long. "Y-Yes.. Sorry sir.." Chan grinned slightly at the name yet you still hadn't met his eyes. With his index finger he slowly lifts your head, admiring your face and body, you had booty shorts with a silk grey tank top and ankle socks with black bows and ruffles. Chan adored you in your little shorts, he couldn't help but wanna.. Break you.

10 minutes later

A heavy sigh can be heard from Chan, you were too into your thoughts to notice he was trying to talk to you about helping him out with buying more things for the leaking sink, "Are you even listening??" Chan says frustrated. "Hm? m' sorry I-i'll listen just say it again.. you don't have to be moody.." You mumble that last bit, He scoffs sticking his tongue inside his cheek "Moody? I'm moody? Come here." He says while holding his hand out, "what for wh-"

You yelp a little as Chan picks you up over his shoulder, landing a harsh slap on your ass. "C-Ch-" *Slap another harsh slap on your ass "Keep the attitude up." Chan spits out, you whine "put me down~!" you yelp as he tosses you on the bed "You need to learn to listen doll..~" Chan whispers as he crawls on top of your body, with an almost predator look in his eyes, he looks so.. Fucking sexy.

You were snapped back to reality when your hair was tugged to sit you up on the bed, in front of you was Chan with his pants a little bit lower, just enough for you to see the outline of his tip, he was so hard.

He slowly tugs his pants down letting them rest at his mid-thigh. "Your gonna be a good slut and take it all." He brings your face closer to his cock, its so big perfect girth and length, you slowly tug on his waistband making him hiss as soon as the air hits his leaking tip. ,, he's so hard for me already.?!,, you thought almost excited that your able to get him like this. "Open up." Chan says while holding your hair in a tighter grip, you whine not opening your mouth

"I said.. Open. Up." He said sternly with a hiss at the end. Pulling your hair harder making you open your mouth quickly, he shoves his full length in your mouth not even letting you breathe in first causing you to start choking immediately, Chan thrusts into your mouth almost angry "Take my dick slut." He spits out at you. You have tears forming at the corner of your eyes, you swear your throat is gonna be bruised after how rough he's going. Chan pulls you off his cock with a pop making him groan

You cough trying to catch your breathe after that yet Chan lays you on your stomach before harshly taking off your shorts showing your white lace underware, He picked his lips at the sight ,,so fucking cute,, he thinks to himself, your still catching your breathe when you feel weight lift off the bed.. Chan? He goes to the closet taking something out.. A belt?

You squirm away knowing what's gonna happen he holds you back down tying your wrists behind your back and bringing your ass up, you were completely vulnerable to him. He caresses all of your body loving every second ,,god I'm in love with her body,, he thought. you we're still trying to squirm than you felt a harsh slap on your ass

"Stop squirming slut or its gonna be worse for you." you yelped loudly as you felt him slam into you, you felt dazed as it was without warning, he keeps pumping his full length in and out of you. "God you fucking slut, letting me fuck this pretty pussy like nothing, you probably like this huh?? Being fucked like a dumb doll" he says between strokes. You whine out, he roughly pulls your hair.

"Words dumb doll. Words." He shoves your face back into the pillows, "Y-Yes S-Sir ~!" you scream into the pillows gaining a smirk from Chan. "Dirty slut.." Chan says lowly as he continues thrusting into your tight cunt.

"d-daddy agh.. c-close" you feel your high building up as each forceful thrust feels electric. Chan spanks your ass leaning over and grabbing your ear, whispering in a raspy voice "cum for me little doll." He groans as you start clenching around him getting him closer to the edge. "Fuckk I'm gonna cum in your little pussy~ Your so good at making daddy feel so good huh~" You start babbling as your getting so close that his words become ecstasy bringing you higher, you can't help but let your self loose all over his cock and thighs leaving him sticky.

"Fuck baby I'm cumming~" Chan groans out and is hot sticky ropes shoot into you filling you all up, he keeps sloppily thrusting into you helping both of you slowly come down your highs.

"Fuck good job love~" he coos slightly gaining a smile giggle from you, he quickly grabs you a change of clothes and a damp cloth.

Once he's back he unties you, "hold on my pretty girl.." he coos as he slowly cleans you up being gentle because he knows how sensitive you are after sex especially when he's so rough with you. You let out a smile whine as he cleans you up "it's okay my baby just let me clean you, I'm almost done~" he says gently ,,I love the way he loves me, I love the way hes in love with my body, that's why he's fucking it up,, you thought. He lays soft kisses on your back making you notice he's done cleaning you, "Come baby, up" he says motioning you to sit up , which you do slowly, He helps you put on some new comfy underwear with comfy baggy shorts and one of his tee shirts.

"Are you okay my baby? Would you like some water or juice? Then we can cuddle and watch your favorite scary movies~" he says with a small smile as he cleans himself up and changes his clothes to some simple sleep wear. you nod slightly "juice please~" he gives you a light peck "I'm on it love~" he says as he quickly goes to the kitchen

• 5 minutes later

You watch the TV laying your back onto the bedframe, he comes back with a cup full of your favorite juice, your plushie and some chocolate, he places the juice on the nightstand next to you and he hands you the plush and chocolate, "here for my sweet girl~" he quickly lays in bed with you cuddling your waist as you both watch your favorite movie. "We're still fixing the sink tomorrow" Chan adds in, you giggle, playing with his hair.

A.N :I actually really liked this for my first smut I think Chan was so cute, definitely the clingy type after sex. TT

Cmmts, reposts and likes are appreciated! Thank you sm <3 !

Please do not repost my works anywhere else, this is my only acc and the only place I will be posting fics, any where else please report!

[urluv69]

Task Force 141 COD

Y/N(18+ user) X Ghost

Mature content!

Carnival

It was October 31; Halloween. You didn’t normally dress up or go out for Halloween since you were normally either on a mission or too tired from a mission, but this year was different. You joined the task force 141 just under a year ago and found that they all liked to celebrate (in some way or form) holidays.

As usual, you weren’t planning on doing anything to celebrate Halloween but when Ghost invited you to a carnival, you couldn’t help but say yes. You dressed in fish neck stockings, a tiny leather skirt, a short black tank top, a red racing jacket and healed combat boots. You weren’t quite sure if it looked good or not when you arrived with Ghost but the looks people were giving said you looked hot.

The day went well with you and Ghost playing some games and carnival activities. As usual Ghost kept a stoic expression and lacked a smile but you could tell he was enjoying himself just as you were. When the time came everyone entered the large tent that had a huge stage in the middle. An odd box sat at the center of the stage but you didn’t pay any mind to it as you found two seats with Ghost.

“Ladies and gentlemen, to finish off your evening here I would like to present the annual event. As most of you have been waiting all day for this I won’t take long and will chose a lady from the audience to start us off.” The ring man standing in a flashy red suit announced through a microphone as the whole crowd roared.

It was only now that you noticed how many ladies were dressed in under garments and lacy clothes showing off more then they were covering. You couldn’t say you were covering any more than them but most almost looked as if it was intended to be taken off.

You gave a confused glance towards Ghost who was looking ahead and didn’t meet your gaze. Suddenly a white beam of light shone over you and the ring man pointed towards you. You were confused before he motioned for you to come down to the center stage where he stood.

You hesitated but did make your way down to him. “Now what is your name, doll?” You tell him your name as the crowd cheers and your cheeks flush not used to the attention being on you.

“Do you know the rules or shall I remind you of how we play here?”

“I-I don’t know the rules….”

You stammered as you nervously shifted on your feet.

“Very well. You will step into the box at the center of our ring. You will find various holes and cameras that way we can see and interact with you inside. You may exist at any given point you please by simply pressing the red button on the door. You can strip down at which ever speed you’d like and may choose who you interact with.”

You nodded as realization hit you. It was a pleasure box. You go in and others can chose to interact with you or not. You let out a shaky breath as you walk over to the box and close the door shut. Slowly, you strip off your jacket, top, and finally your skirt and fishnets. You are left in small black thongs and a black skimpy bra.

Soon enough you see something appear in one of the hole. A long, veiny, and strained cock. You sink to your knees without much hesitation and wrapped one hand around its base. You look to a screen inside the box to figure out who it was and see a tall brunette with messy hair in a fire fighter costume.

You wrap your lips around his tip and sensually swipe your tongue over. Your hand begins to pump as you start sucking harder and hollowing out your cheeks. You take him down your throat as far as you can go without chocking and pump the rest. Your tongue swirls around him as you now feel heat pulling in your core.

You should feel dirty and ashamed doing this in a semi-public scene but you don’t. It only turns you on more to think about it. Your body begins to heat up more as you feel him twitch signaling he is close. Another hole is filled to your left and another slightly shorter but thick cock is now in your view. You take your hand away from the man you are still working on and bring it to stroke the new one.

Your free hand reaches behind your back and unclamps your bra. You don’t pay mind to wear it falls and only focus on the load of cum being released into your mouth and down your throat. You swallow everything and pull away with a pop from his tip. Your one hand is still eagerly pumping the newcomers cock who you look up to the screen and see a blond, younger man dressed in a suit and tie.

It doesn’t take long before cum is dripping down your bare chest and you pull your hand back. At this point you are aching to be touched and receive any type of friction. This time when a new cock appears you stand up and shimmy out of your panties. You press your back against the wall before bending over and exposing your pussy to them as they pull back for a moment.

Conveniently there is a hand bar in front of you to hold as you glance up at the screen again. Ghost. He’s the one whose tip is circling your tight and clenching hole. He suddenly slams into you and your legs almost buckle right then and there. He fills you up perfectly as you clench around him. His thrusts are relentless as you have no time to adjust.

You’re so close already as he slams against your spongy g-spot with every thrust. You moan and can’t help your self as you reach down with one hand and rub your clit.

It doesn’t take long before you cum around him and he’s not far behind. After a moment of coming down from your climaxes, he pulls out. You lean against the wall as you manage to pull your clothes back on. You press the red button on the door and as promised it opens and you step out to see Ghost with a clear smirk.

[oneverytiredperson]

"'Kay, let's go." You said, gathering your stuff.

"Wait, wait, are you going to be wearing that?" Rafe looked at you in disbelief.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" You were wearing your usual clothes, a tank top and some pair of jeans, along with your trusty combat boots (that soon would need a replacement).

"Well, you look..." Rafe trailed off, he didn't want to say it, but it was pretty clear what he meant.

"Like a pogue." You mumbled. "Well, shit, because I don't have anything else to wear, so your people will have to deal with it" you crossed your arms.

"Don't start with that now, we got some time, we'll buy you something on the way"

You stared at Rafe with your mouth agape as he went to his truck.

"You comin' or not?"

He took you to one of the best clothing stores. It was huge, you've seen kooks wearing those kind of clothes. You didn't even want to look at the price tag. Each piece probably costing more than your own life.

"Well... just, huh, choose whatever you want. I'll pay" Rafe said as you stared at the rows of clothes in front of you.

"I don't... I don't even know where to start" suddenly, an idea came into your mind, you turned to Rafe with a mischievous smile "say, since you're the expert here, why don't you pick something out for me?"

He tensed, then sighed.

"If it makes this any quicker"

Unbelievable. He said yes??? This man kept surprising you more and more.

After some minutes, Rafe appeared with a pink matching set consisting of a mini skirt and a polo shirt.

"I'm going to kill myself" you muttered. Was he doing this on purpose? Oh, of course he was. Out of all the clothes he could have picked, a PINK MINI SKIRT?

Rafe was just dying to see you try it on.

[velvet-paradox]

Ache

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: You get a concussion and poor König is beside himself and the 141 are trying their best to get you to remember. Length: LONG; I am so NOT sorry btw ;) Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, strong language, explicit content, reader has a little freak out, flashbacks, sad boy König, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint @isikforyourthoughts @stuckimaginationuniverse @howaboutlunch @pookie90 @undeadfreak47 @pokerfaceftw @dracofxckingluciusmalfoy @panty-h03 @0151imagayone

p.s. I used Google translate for the words below Bis später = see you later Bitte = please Verdammte Scheiße = holy shit

ENJOY!!!

König is worried. Fidgeting in this sterile room, everything is so white and so clean, not a speck of dust on any surface, tidy desks and stiff furniture that begs to be sat on or it'll turn into stone. He paced the room, heavy boots pounding mopped up linoleum.

His gear is still stained, hadn't bothered to wash off the combat. There wasn't any time. He had to get that EVAC out to your location as soon as possible, he'd have to apologize to driver when he found him. He was in a rush and overwhelmed with panic, he didn't truly mean to knock the woman down trying to get you into the back of the van.

But you were in danger, hurt, unconscious.

Those sorry motherfuckers had harmed his precious girl, the only one to make him smile, to make him genuinely laugh. You took him as is, all broken pieces and shattered dreams. You'd fight his demons if you could, you told him so night after night, stroking his head against your chest or stomach.

You were his grounding point. The calm to his storm.

Therefor he couldn't risk you being in this state, a flashbang had knocked you all to the ground, deafening ringing, chaos and bloodshed soon to follow. König didn't realize until the damage was done and the smoke had cleared that you were crumpled against the South wall, completely out with a trickle of blood leaking from your ear.

He made some sort of animal-like sound, it didn't even register that he'd never made that sort of noise before until he reached you, crushing and grabbing your vest to sit you up. Your head was limp like a cloth doll, König was graceful in holding you steady, checking your vitals and manually opening your eyes.

"Come in Actual! I need an EVAC immediately!"

You looked so small in that hospital bed, fragile. Foreign.

He knew you as a hellcat, fiery and hot to the touch. Ready to fight or fuck at any given chance. This version of you made him nervous. Scared him. And Colonel König does not get scared.

He checked his watch again, the rhythm of the monitors you were hooked up to only agitated him further, so that meant more pacing, more worrying his bottom lip that tasted of blood. Skin chewed up raw.

König leaned on the end of your bed making it creak under his weight. He could punch through a wall right about now, gnaw on the fucking plaster, rip off door jams and spit out nuts and bolts. Under his watch this had happened and he would never forgive himself. His eyes watered briefly before he pushed off the bedframe, your head wrapped gauze, shrapnel had made little scratches across your forehead and cheek.

Please be okay my darling girl… I can't much anymore…

König stirred awake, he'd picked up and moved the heavy chair from the window to your bedside, crossing his arms and resting his cheek on them as he watched you sleep. Your steady breathing had matched the heart monitor, smooth and calm and that's what had lulled him to sleep.

His back would fucking kill later but he wasn't too bothered. He'd do anything for you.

You made a weird face and groaned, shifting your shoulders before blinking yourself awake.

König's tank had never been so full with relief. He straightened himself up, touching your hand without the IV in it. "Oh thank God mein liebe; I was so worried. How are you feeling?"

His eyes danced over your face as you wet your lips.

"Like shit. Did I get hit by a fucking truck or what?" Your voice cracked and König was quick to jump up and fill a paper cup that was childlike in his shaking hands. He helped you to take small sips.

"Something like that. Unpredictable flashbangs with do that. Lucky we got out when we did."

"What?" You blinked up at him.

"Flashbangs. You know. Poof!" König made an explosion gesture by his helmet. "Nasty things. Effective, but still very nasty."

"I don't know what that is," you paused then and looked around the room with open eyes, clarity slipping through the cracks as you gripped the cup, brows furrowed. "I don't-- where am I? What am I doing here?"

König touched the top of your bed, concern in his emerald eyes. "My darling Ferret, you were injured in combat. Nothing broken but you were knocked unconcsous, we brought you in as soon as possible. Are you--," König didn't want to hear your answer but he didn't like to mess around the bush. Best to rip off the band-aid. "Do you know me? Do you not recognize me?"

You swallowed as your eyes grew glassy. You shook your head.

"Should I?"

His heart broke.

"It's me. My name is König , I am your commanding officer. You and the boys are-"

"Boys? I have boys? Am I mother?! Whose mother am I?" You screeched and spilled what was left of your water as you tossed off your sheet and began inspecting your stomach.

"No no. Calm down Ferret, you are no ones mother. Yet. I meant the boys of the 141, our company, Captain Price, L.T., Gaz, MacTavish… any o' them ring a bell?"

"No. Oh my God… who am I? König who am I?"

You really started to panic then, crying and kicking off the rest of your blankets, your heartrate was increasing alarming fast. König tried to shush you, calm you down, but it was no use, you just freaked out even more. You gained the attention of the nurses who came bursting into the room, pushing him out of the way as you screamed and tried to pull out the iv.

Chaos. König didn't know what to do and it was all a blur until one of the nurses in burgandy scrubs had grabbed his tac vest, forecefully and dragged him to the door.

"Colonel! Sir! We've got this, you need to leave."

Your shouts of protest were terrifying as you writhed on the bed in confusion and pain. There were too many of them, like ants swarming a downed enemy.

"Sir! Please, she'll be fine. I need you out. Now," König only frowned but took the steps necessary. "Do it for her."

The door slammed shut in his face then and all he could do was stand there and watch the blinds be slid down.

….

König growled and cursed something fierce all the way back to his dorm room, boots heavy and reminding him that much more that he would be going to bed alone tonight. With a huff he kicked his door closed, stripped off his helmet and hood. Piece by piece, he tore his gear angrily off, missing the laundry basket altogether.

His bed protested his weight as he rubbed at his face, aware that his gloves smeared what was left of his grease paint and gun residue. He hung his head, tapping his boots when he steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

He squinted down and grabbed a foreign object just by the end of his bed. Little by little, maroon in color lace looked so small in his hands.

It was one of your fancy bras.

König chuckled at the sight of it, a little light in his pitch dark tunnel. Without shame and without guilt, he fisted the light material before shoving it to his nose. It still smelled like you after several weeks and he closed his eyes.

"Bis später!" Had come from his mouth, waving off Ghost and Sergeant McTavish. He was grateful to be in his space, with his things, able to recharge after spending damn near all of his energy bank. If he were part machine, which sometimes he felt that way with how hard and focused he worked; there would be a flashing LOW BATTERY sign on his forehead.

He sighed against the door frame, barely ducking underneath it when he looked up at some sudden movement. He balked. You, you slinky attractive little devil had slipped past the guards, slunk into his room and into his bed. Growing voices made the big man struggle to get his whole body inside to block out your own, slamming the door behind him. Gloved hands still on the knob.

"Verdammte Scheiße! What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, what does it look like?" You shrugged as carelessly as you pleased. As drained as he was, he always had enough energy for your antics. A bare arm patted the bed next to you, a coy little smile on your face.

"I thought we've talked about this, no? We need to be careful about us." König said as he sat down, taking his gloves off and setting them on the floor by his nightstand.

"I'm tired of being careful, aren't you?" You grabbed his warm fingers, looking up at him.

"Yes but--"

"But what? Whose gonna' stop you? The big bad ex-KorTac boogeyman with the pretty eyes and enough documented kills to make any Narco envious and not to mention that big ol' hog--"

"Shut your face, right now!" König clamped a hand over your mouth, even though he was smiling behind his mask, bashful but a little boosted by your vulgar description. He didn't need to give the base anymore to talk about.

Your wet tongue startled his palm as you laughed, music to his ears as leaned his body against you.

"Oh come on, I'm surprised it even fits. Damn thing is the size of my arm!"

"It is not, stop that." König scolded you, a failed attempt to keep you quiet even though he was enjoying your praise.

"Oh yes it is!" You chuckled and pressed your sheet covered chest against his arm. "You should probably get a weapons clearance slip for that thing!"

"That's it!" König tackled you on the bed, his gear shifting with his weight, pinning you down. You wiggled and laughed beneath him, he silently asked how'd he get to be the one on top of you, making you laugh, smile. Men like him didn't get pretty things like you. He suspected and believed his old KorTac buddies that he'd end up settling for what he thought he deserved. Pocket lint and a sex doll. Not at all the real body of yours, looking at him like he hung the fucking moon and if he you would only keep looking at him like this, make him feel like he swallowed bees, calmed the anger and wolfish tendencies; he just might try it.

König sat back on his haunches. "How long have you been waiting for me?"

His heart stopped with your cheeky answer. "My whole damn life."

….

He dreamt of you that night. Surprised even to himself that he could calm himself down, even after a long and hot shower. He was exhausted. Scrubbing that same dirt and grime, that filth off his skin that stained your own. Maybe it was the emotions of it all, everything cresting, crumbling like bricks in his hands as you couldn't even remember him.

Maybe that's why he cried.

And maybe that's why he slept so good.

He tucked your bra underneath his pillow before he left his room the next morning, safe keeping and all that. He gave the neatly made bed a gentle pat before catching a ride with some very green, very eager-to-please rookies on a golf cart to the hospital.

"Colonel!" He stopped at the distinct voice of Captain Price, he could practically feel the mans' boots on the definitely needed to be replaced tiles beneath his own feet. "Colonel, I'm glad I caught you, old man-"

"I am not old," König squinted at Price's crinkled eyes, lost in a teasing smile. "In fact, you're older by four years, fifteen days and seven hours."

"How do you know that?" John Price paused.

"I read your file." König shrugged. He had a photographic memory, could remember coordinates from a stint in Kosovo, the delicatessen's not far from Vatican City, the look on your face after your first kiss, what color your toenails were that summer on the West Coast with the rest of the 141.

"Very well, lad. I uh just spoke with Y/N's doctors, she's been sedated, had a bit of a rough night last night, so they said. She's awake but nothing seems to spark her memory just yet."

König bit at his lips, he should've been there with you. The thought of you being alone and afraid, scared to death of all those around you being pumped through with who knows what.

"She'll come back to us big man," Price's hand on his arm was warm and the little squeeze he gave him felt genuine. "I know you two are close; just how close I haven't determined but I assume it's a heartfelt one. One that maybe goes a little more than the base and ranks."

"That's none of your business, Captain." König ground his teeth.

"You're right but I should let you know there's a little bet and a rumor going on that it's beyond professional," König straightened his back at that, shifting his weight. "Don't shoot the messanger, but the pot has gotten pretty full and I like winning."

Price chuckled as he walked away, leaving König to think more than just about you.

Your room is quiet expect for the whirling machine hooked up to your hand, your breathing is smooth when he enters, the steady beat of your heartbeat. He knew you were beloved on base and by all the bouquets of flowers, balloons and 'GET WELL SOON FERRET!' cards that surrounded your bed and side tables, he once again felt lucky to even breathe the same air as you, let alone become bedfellows and lovers.

He felt bad he came empty handed.

Until you rolled your head over to see him, a piss-poor attempt to make himself small.

"It's you." Your voice was a little scratchy and he'd hoped it was from a little nap and not from screaming in the middle of the night.

"Hallo mein-- I mean Y/N," your given name sounded strange in his mouth when he cleared his throat and crept a little more into the room. Your eyes never left him. "How are you feeling now? I talked with Price in the hallway."

"It's strange, I know you said the other day that we know each other and when I'm looking at you, like this, I feel like I should," you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, gears working against you as you laid there, eventually staring up at the ceiling. "I feel like I should know who I am and I don't. I should know you, apparently, but I don't. I don't remember anything!" you whined and palmed your glassy eyes, sniffling and huffing and all König could do was worry and reach out to touch your shoulder. "What if I never do? What if I become somebody else?"

"Don't do that, bitte. Please my dear," his gloved hand grasped your wrist and you let him, let him pull down your hands, locking eyes.

"You're taking a page out of my book and you're going to worry yourself sick. You'll come back to us." To me.

He wished and prayed that you would as he stayed with you for a little over an hour before you grew tired and again on his way to the mess hall and once more before bed.

….

"If you get hurt jus' remember lass, this was yer idea to begin wit'!" Johnny said with a grin, wobbling quite a bit on König's shoulders as he reached out to grapple with your hands.

"You know you're a lot heavier than you look." König grumbled through straight teeth, holding on to the Scotsman's' hefty thighs.

The sun was high that day on the Coast, a well needed and earned r&r retreat for the 141.

"Don't tell me you're backing out already, Johnny!" You teased, fitting your fingers through his as you moved on Simon's shoulders in the water opposite of them.

You looked incredible, wet and sandy, smiling as if you didn't just have someone else's blood on your hands three days prior somewhere in Bolivia. You two hadn't even kissed yet, just a lot of sexual tension and flirty exchanges when no one was looking or listening.

"I'm just lettin' you know wee one, I'm not above playing unfairly now."

"We'll see about that, you ready down there L.T.?"

"Ready when you are, kid."

Game on.

The guys joked about never hearing König laugh before, after your successful best two out of three chicken matches in the ocean. He felt insecure about it, covering his already covered mouth from his hood. Ghost and Johnny drank back to back beers while you saddled up next to him with a turkey sandwich and some fruit.

"I like it."

König looked over at you, sitting extra close in the sand as you dug your feet into the sand, a complimentary red on your toes as they swiftly disappeared and you ate a berry.

"Pardon?"

"Your laugh," you said inching closer so your leg touched his. "I like it. You should do it more often."

König scoffed and stole a grape from your plate, tossing it up in the air. "Say something funny then."

"I wanna' kiss you right now."

He choked on his spit and laughed again, to get König off guard was no easy task and yet you were flying through in fucking technicolor.

"Now that is funny."

"Who said I'm joking?"

As you watched your L.T. and Johnny pack up their truck, you had made sure to wave them off and as they turned out of the parking lot, with that same hand you grabbed the front of König's shirt, leaned up as far as those cute toes of yours could tip-toe and kissed him right on the mouth.

….

" 'ow about this one, we're just outside the Museum of Antioquia in Medellín, does this look familiar at all, kid? Anything abou' it? Anything at all?"

"I mean… that's obviously us. It's pretty foggy still honestly… so no."

"Alright no worries, love. How about this one? The Courtauld Gallery, we just had to go according to you to see your favorite painting."

"Am I an art major or something?"

"No. You just appreciate fine works of art I suppose."

König didn't mean to instantly get hard at Ghost's choice of words. He turned his back to you and your visitors, walking, uncomfortably so, towards the window with his hands behind his back.

You had said those same words to him once.

You two had gotten caught in an ice storm and not just any ice storm either, the kind where wherever you're at… that's where you're going be for the foreseeable future. Luckily for the both of you, the safe house had been recently restocked and insulated, thick plastic on the windows ruffled and protested the pounding wind outside. The freezing cold had slithered its icy tentacles through the cracks around the door making the fire you'd built in the little stove flutter and crack.

You only wore your underclothes, tight black thermals under your gear, frost and snow melting off your boots side by side by the front door. You crouched and added a few logs, eyeing him as he came into the living room with two mugs of tea.

He thought you were excited about the warmth from the cups but you had something a lot hotter in mind.

Thermals littered the floor, your whines and cries for more sang beautifully with the crackling fire nearby. You didn't even make it to the bed.

"Oh God König!" you panted against his shoulder as he rutted against you on the floor, creaking under his heavy weight. His cock fit perfectly once he'd gotten you off on his fingers first, it was proper to make you cum first.

He might be a little ruthless and rough around the edges but the man has manners! He rolled his eyes in pure delight when you arched up into his chest, nipples hard and legs trembling, spread enough to fit his frame between them. "You feel so fucking good. I knew you would-- aha just like that baby, fuck!"

Your head thunked against the floor, König was quick to fit one of his hands beneath it, in case it happened again. He had secretly wished it would, if only he could last a little bit longer. Your wet, gummy walls fought and milked his cock like no other, bringing him back in with a soft hug.

"Yeah? You like that huh? I'm practically devouring you, molding you to-o me." König grunted and groaned something in his native tongue before taking a bite out of your neck, loving it as you grabbed at his arms, his shoulders, his thrusting hips when he soothed it over with his gentler kisses.

"I want it. I want you so bad," he shivered at your words, his cock throbbing and threatening to explode so soon. He couldn't help it! He'd been eager for months to just maybe get a smooch from you and yet here you both are, making love on the floor in some safehouse by a fire. "I can't believe you're inside me right now. Why did we wait so long? It's so fucking good."

You whined and moved your legs higher up his waist, your knees digging into his ribs. König grabbed your leg and brought it up further, changing the angle and hitting something deep, so so deep and primal that you literally shouted his name, eyes wild and mouth agape as if you couldn't believe it was real.

Your neck bent to look at where his cock was disappearing, in and out in great, thick thrusts. Words were lost on you as all that came out of your throat was gasps for breath.

"Guess you like that too, yes?"

"YES!"

König barely had time to chuckle at your shouts, begging for more and more, it was all so hot and erotic and when you came he growled your name. He pulled out just in time to cum along the inside of your thighs, tapping the crown of it into his spend, smearing it around.

"Oh baby… you are a fucking work of art."

….

"What about some fresh air, kid? Might do ya' some good, instead o' breathin' in all this medicinal shit." L.T.'s suggestion brought König back to the present, he made a face and adjusted himself before turning around.

Ghost gave him a shrug. It had been five days after all.

"Yeah. Why not? Can't hurt, right?" You agreed. "Will you come with me?"

"She's talkin' to you, big boy." Simon voiced, startling König into a different position.

"Me? You want me to--"

"Will you?"

Simon smiled and left you to get dressed for the outside world since the accident.

König made sure to cover your eyes once you walked out into the sun, you tucked yourself into his side automatically, mumbling that it was too damn bright. He chuckled and kept you close, an arm around your shoulders as you walked the grounds.

"Can I ask you something?" You were picking at your nail beds, a nasty habit you tried to break your Freshman year of college and miserably failed.

"Shoot."

"Are we like… together? Like a couple? Simon and some of the other guys' made it seem like we're close. Like-- really close. Is that like a rumor thing or should I know something that I don't?"

König stopped, his boots kicking up gravel. "It's complicated. I am your commanding officer. Your superior. That would be inappropriate."

"Is it inappropriate or true?" you asked, stuffing your hands into a well worn hoodie. "Or both?"

König sighed, moving closer to you when a group of four young recruits jogged by. "Both."

You pursed your lips and looked around the busy base. The group of recruits that had given him a ride to see you drove by quickly, giving you both a solid but quick salute while a Staff Sergeant barked orders a few yards away.

"Is it serious?"

König cleared his throat and crossed his arms nervously. "The short answer? Yes. The long answer… is also yes."

You smiled brightly and shielded your eyes once more from the sun and from looking up at him. He swore his eyes crossed with how cute you looked, making that squinty face. You seemed content with his answer and started walking again, asking where you two had met.

"Maybe you should ask Soap about all that. Sorry, I mean Sergeant McTavish. Johnny. He sorta' is the reason for us being, well for us being close." König suggested, moving the bottom of his hood out of the way of a thick spoonful of a Rocky Road milkshake just off base.

"Well I'm asking you." You pointed your own spoon at him, apologizing when a few pieces of chocolate flung onto his forearms across the table. "Sorry."

"No worries. I rather like chocolate." König smiled.

"Tell me. Please? It might trigger something useful." You began to pout and oh no you don't, don't you dare tremble that bottom lip of yours. Oh, he could just lunge across this comically small table, break the umbrella above your heads in half and grab you and just kiss you, tell you how much you mean to him, how this limbo bullshit was driving him crazy!

König wasn't a man known for flowery words, motivational speaking and the like but he knew you so it wasn't out of his comfort to explain in detail how you did in fact meet. He talked and talked, milkshakes long gone, fries gone cold but salvaged for a midnight snack.

Once back on base König stopped in the hallway that splits from rank when you grab his hand.

"Can I come with you?"

"Come with me where?"

You swallow and look around the unusually vacant split. "To your room. Maybe it'll help. I mean, if we're together," you hushed and got closer to his side. "Maybe it'll help."

König smiled beneath his hood, wolfish and he knew how sharp his teeth were against the plump flesh of his bottom lip. "Sure. Come on."

….

"These are little… explicit." You chuckle while fidgeting with an old digital camera in his arsenal. The SD card is almost full, he knows this but he can't risk transferring them to another device. He'd stain his career if he got his tablets mixed up and not so safe or savory pictures of you and him together, were to make the rounds. The last thing this place needs is a scandal.

You tilted your head at one, zooming in and then thrusted it at his chest. "This is… are those… zip ties?"

König took the camera and knew exactly which picture you'd landed on. His mouth watered at the memory.

"Ah yes. This is the night you broke me."

"What does that mean?" You asked and sat down next to him on the bed.

A funny little jolt surged through his belly, warming his cheeks and hands as you two looked at the digital screen.

"Um uh well, I was gone on a mission in Copenhagen, it was only supposed to be a two week set up and recon, I could do those in my sleep but there was some miscommunication on their end and long story short I was gone for almost a month," König explained, thoughtfully looking at himself on the screen. "I used the SAT phone to keep in touch. We'd been together a steady two months before deployment and I didn't get a chance to give you a proper goodbye. So I promised you could have me any way you wanted."

"And I wanted to restrain you?"

"You wanted control over the situation. Over me." And you did. "Wow. I didn't think I was the dominant type. Or that a guy like you would allow it."

König barked out laughing, almost dropping it, which would have been devastating, but he managed to fumble it onto the soft mattress below instead. "Oh mein cutie, you are a terror when you get into one of your moods. Trust me. And to be fair; you've done a lot worse."

König was pleased the security officers left him alone for the night, no more nightly checks and lights out for the older man. He'd paid his dues but sometimes some fresh faced recruit would want all their other supervisors to know they'd checked on everyone, including the Colonel himself and Captain Price just a few doors down.

You'd fallen asleep after going over a handful of more photos, some more tasteful then others. Some cute, your smiling face as he slept with his large, scarred back facing you. Candids of König cleaning one of his weapons, examining knives. Holding hands. Your head on his lap. You fast asleep in one of his ratty old shirts. Obscene ones of just how fucked out he made you, gaping and leaking his spend. A few with just his fingers saturated with his cum.

You looked so comfortable and cute all curled up on his covers, hands tucked under your head. He couldn't help himself and mimicked your position as best he could, wincing and apologizing in a low whisper that he was sorry he kicked your knee. You groaned in your sleep and patted his hand.

König didn't remember falling asleep but he was suddenly incredibly warm, hot even, sweating beneath his hood and t-shirt he shifted but felt he couldn't move. He blinked and caught you holding on to him, damn near piggy-backing him. You mumbled something against the back of his head, fingers twitching and grabbing at the thin fabric.

"…König."

He flinched at the way your voice said his name. Hushed and broken, his attempt to turn around and face you failed and you grabbed him tighter. He touched your hands on his arm.

"Y/N it's ok it's me."

"Oh no… where are you? I can't see-" You whined and jerked around behind him. If only you could hear him, see him, feel him try to calm you down from whatever it was you were dreaming out. König was used to fretting and getting himself all worked up into a lather, this time he did manage to roll over, getting up onto an elbow he held both of your hands in just one of his.

"My love, wake up. If you can hear me, wake up, you can wake up now."

Your face pinched and thrashed, your neck craning at a painful angle as if you were possessed until your eyebrows finally released, your fingers unballing and then you opened your eyes. One at a time. Blinking into the inky blackness of the room.

There was just enough light coming the sunlight above König's bed, the angle nice and gentle on your face. You finally looked at him.

He tried his best to soften his eyes, let you know you were safe and in good hands not in the arms of some stranger, which all of the base had been as of late. He let go of your hands when your jugular jerked.

"König."

"Are you okay now?"

"Where am I?" you asked and he cast down his eyes to the rising and falling of your chest. "Am I still dreaming?"

"No. You're awake now. You can pinch me if you'd like."

He waited for your answer before you reached up and cupped his face, touching the masks' edge, circling around one of the eye holes before tearing up. "I believe you, baby."

Oh. Oh. OH!

"Baby…"

You sniffled and König wanted to pinch himself, make sure he wasn't the one dreaming that you'd come back to him. "I missed you."

"Oh mein liebe, you have no idea how much I've missed you." König surged and gathered you up into his arms, hooking his whole arm between your legs to bring you as close to his chest as humanly possible. He smelled your hair, rubbed his clothed cheek against yours. His hands under your shirt.

"How long was I out?"

Your voice was so light and innocent, sitting on his bed with the covers around your shoulders. He'd fixed you some tea, not the exact way Simon had taught him but close enough.

"Almost a week."

You frowned again and König couldn't help but take your hands in his, assuring you it was alright, that you were in the clear and should definitely seek the med staffs' guidance.

"A week?! Oh my God. I've been banged before but not like that."

König attempted to stifle his laugh, chuckling harder after you whacked his arm. "Bitte bitte, I surrender."

"You better! I've been M.I.A. and you're making fun of me."

Your pouting face was so damn cute König moved in front of you after bouncing his thumb on your bottom lip, holding out his hand. "I'm not making fun of you honey, it's just the way you said it."

"Yeah yeah, wait 'til you get knocked the fuck out and we'll see whose making fun then, hmm?"

"You would make fun of me?"

"In a heartbeat." Your sneer and banter held no weight and the both of you knew that. You were back to your usual self, a little froggy sur but you knew who you were, who he was, where you were and what was going on.

The head nurse in the med bay was excited to see you up and walking around, coherent and well aware of what had happened. She checked your vitals, looked at your eyes, felt around your cranium for any undiscovered lumps or bruising from being knocked back against that cement wall.

You were cleared.

She sent you off with a note and a stern 'now get some rest!'. König bounced his legs while he waited next to you, recognizing that she was the same nurse who had tossed him out that first night. She winked at him before letting you both leave.

"God I have missed you mein cutie, my little precious thing." König sang into your neck once back in his quarters, he hadn't let his hand slip from your hip since leaving the nurses station. He held you hostage in his lap in his bed, petting your face and rubbing your arms.

"How much?"

"So so much," König cooed at you, shivering from your touch as your arms circled around his neck, you snuck your fingers beneath his hood, toying with the strands of hair you could tug on. "More than I crave a hunt, a kill. Man or beast. Nothing satisfies me more than you do, my love."

"I know I've been out of it but… does that mean--"

"Oh my dear thing. Bitte! You think my mind was elsewhere while you were coasting through life? Nein nein nein, I put my needs behind yours."

"You haven't… so you must be pretty bricked up then?"

König tilted his head at that. "Not you getting medically cleared and ready for a good fucking straight away."

"She said to get some good rest, did she not?" You bit your lip and twisted the hem of his mask. "What better way then to make sure I'm fully rested then that?"

"My love… don't poke the bear."

"Is the bear in hibernation?"

He chuckled at that, letting you lean forward, pressing your foreheads together, breathing each other in. "It's summer time my dear… the bears are out of hiding."

Your eyes burned into his, as coy and cool as you tried to play it, all your intentions were naked and clear. "Are you going to be my bear tonight, König?"

….

Now usually when you were in one of these moods König wouldn't even bat an eyelash, click his teeth or spit at the thought of tossing you around, fisting your hair and making you squeal. In turn you'd leave marks and brusies only he knew were there, hidden beneath his gear. But this was different. You were in a delicate state, though medically cleared he wasn't about to go about fucking you senseless.

No. You needed to be handled gently.

So that's what he did.

Shimmying out of his clothes while you did the same, reaching out for him he went down easily, caging you in. You hummed and lifted the base of his mask, hiding beneath it with him, stealing a few chaste kisses before slipping your tongue into his mouth. König groaned and crushed his body into yours.

"Missed you so much, my love." König straightened up on his arms, looking down at you with heart eyes.

"Show me. Show me how much you missed me, baby. Bears give hugs, don't they?"

König chuckled, his hood swaying with puffs of his laughter. "My little play thing, bitte. Please. I am not a bear."

"Sure you are big guy," you cooed and moved to grab one of his hands, ghosting it over your collar, on the ball of your shoulder, settling it palm side down on your chest. "You're my big bear, aren't you?"

Oh hell… he couldn't say no to that face. With a huff he gave in, he'll admit it later that is did warm his heart that you thought of him that way. A protector. A caregiver. He'd been chosen to take care of you and König didn't agree with failure.

After a few more kisses he rolled away from you, shushing you when you whined with the loss of his body heat and weight. He curled himself behind you, easily hefting you up and over so your back was to his front, being very careful of his genitals. He calculated how far apart your legs should be, fitting them over his thick thighs like butterfly wings, making you jerk at the cool air hitting your wet cunt.

König carefully began to grope over your body, humming with delight when your hips wiggled, your toes digging into the sheets, your hands barely holding onto your tits. He teased you first, getting you warmed up, snickering as your breathing became labored, looking down your body as he played you like a professional musician.

"Please baby, please finger me already," you keened and gasped when he cupped your entire mound, feeling it pulse against his fingers. "I need to feel you."

"Ah ah ah. Already begging, what a needy little thing you are my love. Are my hands on you not enough?" König taunted, moving both of his hands to spread you open. You inhaled sharply, both of you watching as his fingers inched closer and closer to your clit.

"O-o f course but-- oh!"

He switched his tactics and instantly shoved his middle finger inside you, knuckle deep.

"Aww poor thing is fucking tight. Almost like the first time, ja? Been without for a week and already so slick," König peered over your shoulder, throbbing when he saw how hard you grabbed at your chest, playing with your nipples at his advancement. "You're so perfect."

"I'm so empty, please König, mein König."

"Empty you say? One finger is not enough for you? Nein nein you can handle another finger perhaps, maybe… three?"

You rolled your head to the side, looking back at him, an almost pained expression on your beautiful face. "Bitte."

"Oh fuck." Not you speaking his language.

You didn't make a sound when another finger plunged deep into your hole, holding himself back from just outright making a sloppy mess of your pussy, soak his fingers down to the fucking wrist. No no, he was going to treat you with kid gloves. Delicate work. He pulled them out to the second knuckle before twisting them back in, stretching you out.

Only then did you crack and keen, bucking your hips to take them in even deeper, finding that precious little spongy spot that drove you wild.

"Oh fuck yeah."

"That's what my little cub needed, ja? Should I go faster, hmmm? Get you all nice and wet to take my cock."

"Yeah yeah yeah," you nodded franticly, still squeezing and pinching yourself while he finger fucked you. "Get me wet baby, make me cum. Wanna' cum for you."

"You always wanna' cum for me. Wait until the rest of that pretty little head of yours comes all the way back, oh my love, the things you're going to remember, one should be so jealous. But I am afraid mein liebeling you will not be drenching my fingers tonight. Oh no."

"But I--"

"Tut tut little thing, you'll get to cum. That is a promise. But you will be coming on my cock instead, now roll over, ja like that, there we go. Look at you, I didn't have to explain what I meant. See, that memory of yours is coming back faster than we thought!"

König spooned you, cuddling you from behind and lifting your top leg up and over his hip while he told you to stay still, hold tight, to listen to him as he began guiding and sliding the already pre-cum slick crown of his cock between the apex of your thighs, against your sex, popping and nudging up against your swollen bundle of nerves.

You begged. Oh did you beg, he'd barely pushed it in when your arm came flying back, grabbing the back of his head, molding it to the back of your neck. When you pushed back on him König had to shut his eyes, lost in the feeling of sinking into you again. Grateful. Thankful. Pleasure bloomed as your pussy did around his thick cock.

"You're so precious like this, little thing. Mein cutie, mein sweeetness." König cupped your jaw and had you look back at him, dancing his hips into your rear, splitting you open just a little more. You hiccupped a gasp, locking eyes as you moved together as one.

"I needed this, oh shit did I need this. Several days without you was fucking torture verdammt, squeeze down like that again, fucks sake." "Is my big bear getting close?" You joked, your giggles turning into moans and curses as you gripped the back of his hood even tighter.

"Is that what you want? Want me to cum inside you, fill up your little hole?"

"Yes."

"Oh! What a filthy little thing you are, wishing to be filled up. You know my love," König slapped your outer thigh before gripping it tightly, your skin sagging with the weight they held and brought you even closer, his trimmed short and curlys getting wetter by the minute stuck to your rear. "You keep begging for it I just might have to hold you down and breed you. How about that, hmm?"

The noise you made made him whine against your neck.

"Goodness! Is that what you want?"

It took a minute for your voice to catch up to your nodding head, swallowing thickly. "Yes! Oh my God that's so fucking hot."

"You like that idea?"

You bit your lip and smiled so innocently.

You were so pretty all he could think about was breaking you in half. For a man of König's size and weight, he's very nimble and can move faster than you can think. He had you on your front in a few seconds, hoisting up your hips, dragging you back just enough. "If that's what you want… tap me if it is too much, my love. Promise me."

"Yes."

He slapped your ass. "That's not what I said."

"Yes! Yes I promise."

König smiled when you moved your head and hair to the side, then gave him a thumbs up.

Any position he was in with you felt incredible, the sounds you made, the obscenities' you called out, the grunts and tangled English weaved with German on his end were perfect. But there was something about fucking you like this he couldn't handle, he knew he had five, maybe six minutes tops before he'd lose his shit and bust his load.

You were practically sobbing at the pace, a literal face down ass up situation as you couldn't hold your body up any longer. The hard slap of skin on skin, you were panting and gripping the sheets in your hands König thought for a moment you might just tear the damn thing in half. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder he damn near came right then. Eyes glassy, eyelashes wet and clumped together, lips pouty and full.

Of course you had to bit your bottom lip at him looking like a holy hell mess.

König shook his head and swore in German, lurching over your back, his sweat keeping him glued to you as he lifted his hood and sloppily kissed you. You cried out when he did, wailing that you were close, that you going to cum. König clumsily reached below you and started rubbing your clit.

"Faster faster, fuck that's it. Oh my… König. Mein König!" Your body dropped as you came, pulsing your gummy walls around him, he was pretty much using you as fleshlight at that point. Your body loose and limber, pliant and soft in the best way possible.

"That's it baby, are you gonna' cum inside me? Don't waste it." You drunkenly laughed, pushing back when you got your voice back.

"Oh I'm not wasting a damn thing, my love." König pulled you back once more, angling himself with one foot on the bed, fucking into you deeper. You were lucky he was still being careful because the intrusive thought of really giving it to you, harshly, harder and pushing your face into the bed was not an option. Not this time anyway. "You're gonna' be a good girl and take what I give you, ja? You want my load so badly, so fucking badly don't you? We're not wasting a drop, anything-- fuck you're so wet baby… anything leaking is going right back in. Understand?"

"Yes! I want it I want all of it. Don't take it out don't take it out." You whined and without him even asking, your had crossed your wrists behind you back, giving up control, submitting.

König wasn't lying.

He did in fact spill inside you, throbbing rope after rope into your cunt. König hung his head, panting, counting his heartbeat before he eased his way out of your hole. Mesmerized by the sight of a glob or two dripping out he slowly and very, oh so carefully guided back into you. You squirmed, sore for sure as he looked you over.

"Are you alright, my love?"

The thumbs up you gave him was all the assurance he needed. He chuckled lowly, the ache he felt for you, warmed him through as he smoothed a hand down your back.

[cinnamokittykat]

Inspired by @puff0o0 's König artwork

Part 2 is up!

I definitely think König was in a garage metal band when he was in his late teens to early 20's. He would either play drumset or guitar, I'm leaning towards drumset more though. I don't think he would do vocals due to being insecure about having a "higher" voice.

Very "older brother from 2000's movie"-core, teenage dirt bag kind of vibe.

You in your pretty little pink outfit just so happen to be walking by one day when you see him practicing alone while his garage is open. He's sitting at his set, drumming away, his tank top showing off his toned muscles which his long messy hair reaches to. You stop and stare for a minute, just listening to him play drums ever so passionately.

König soon realizes he's being watched, takes off his headphones and starts walking towards you. Now you don't know anything about metalheads and see a 6'10" very broody, scary looking one walking towards you, so you scurry away as quick as possible to your home a few doors down.

A few days later, you're outside on an afternoon walk again and you speed up as you're going past what was presumably that strange boy's house. (you just moved into the neighborhood with your family) This time his band mates are there, you notice.

You don't get very far past the house before you hear the sound of heavy combat boots on the pavement behind you.

"Hey! Don't go!"

You turn around only to come face to face with the giant himself. His band mates have stopped setting up to stare at you both.

"I- I'm sorry for staring last time! It so rude of me, I'll move my walking route somewhere else! Just-" You squeak out.

"What? Nein, I just wanted to... ask how I was playing..."

(I can continue if you want :3)

[utterimmolation]

SPOP WINTER SOLDIER (kind of) AU

Trying to inspire myself to finish this one by sharing:

She gasps for breath, staring wide-eyed up at the equally exhausted looking foe. One minute she'd been on top of a tank, staring out as the Rebellion "barracks" were engulfed in flame, trying to place the uncomfortable feeling in her gut as soft-looking cadets(?) fled the area with their equally soft-looking commanders.

The next, she'd had a name for that feeling: vertigo. The sound of something not unlike acid rain on a shingle, accompanied by the smell of flowers and something like the rare sugar cubes Shadow Weaver rewarded her tea with on an especially good day was the only warning she got before pudgy hands seized her tail and world shifted in a haze of pink. Her organs lurched and she didn't even try to lash out at what had to be a princess as she collapsed to the ground, more focused on trying not to hurl her guts out.

"Call off your attack Horde Scum!" The princess shrieked, hands glowing with ominous fluorescent power. She didn't look too steady herself, her glittering, nauseous-looking pink curls matted with ash and sweat.

Still, she had the advantage, given that she had hands full of some kind of shimmering magic and the ability to seemingly pop in and out of existence at will and Catra had…well claws were all well and good but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be enough. Maybe if she could distract them, she could get in a swipe, as soon as it stopped feeling like her tongue was too big for her—

A dark blur on her peripheral is all the warning she gets before something dark and tall and strong slams into the stout princess looming over her and seemingly body-checks the pinkette halfway across the battlefield.

Feline eyes widen as they absorb the sight looming of them: a humanoid, armored in the black and grey of the Horde, sickly green wings menacingly emblazoned upon their chestplate. Steel plates clink and shift over thick armor weave as straining, muscular shoulders and arms ripple and strain against their confines. Muscled thighs that look capable of crushing stone between them flex in armored combat pants. Steel-toed boots crush smouldering grass and ash under this powerful frame. The lower half of their face is sealed beneath a toughened plasteel vented mask. Blond hair cut short at the top nestles upon a military undercut. And between the two…

"You," Catra breathes and she swears the steel-blue orbs peering back at her flicker with recognition. For a moment, all sound stops. For a moment, the world seems to pause. For a moment, all Catra can do is gaze into the very, very pleasing eyes (and arms and legs and neck and—) of this warrior and think: beautiful.

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Gotta Be Somebody-part 2

Angel Reyes X Reader

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel

When Bishop introduce me to his daughter, I wasn’t expecting her. Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting. Definitely not a girl who could work on her own bike and get dirty or who would sip a beer with the guys.

As I unloaded the van, my thoughts were on her the whole time. Pop’s words echoing in my head.

“She seems like a nice girl.”

“Yeah. She is.”

“Pretty, too.”

“Yeah.”

He chuckled. “Don’t screw it up.”

“What?”

“You’re chance with her. She’s got admiration in her eyes for you, son. You and I both know you could use a woman like that.”

“Yo, Prosepct!”

I turned to see Bishop standing on the porch of the clubhouse. He waved me over, cigarette in hand.

“I seen the way you were watching (Y/N). I’m going to give you this warning like I do everyone. She’s off limits. You can be her friend, help her when she needs it around the shop, but that’s it. She grew up in this life as much as I hate it. I don’t want her with someone who chooses the life. Got me?” He looked me in the eye, taking a drag of his smoke.

“Yeah. Yeah. I got you.”

He smirked. “Good. I want you watching her tonight. Keep an eye on her.”

“Any particular reason why?”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say she’ll need some added security after the show.” He turned and walked away.

I finished unloading the van and helped get everything set up for the other members to arrive. A few hours later, (Y/N) pulled back in the lot, her (h/l) (h/c) pinned back out of her face. She wore black leggings, combat boots and a tank top.

As soon as she turned around, her eyes instantly found mine and she smiled. Damn that was a pretty smile. She waved and I nodded at her. I watched as she walked over to Coco and Gilly and talked to them. They started wrapping her hands in white tape and rubbing her shoulders down.

“Losa!”

Everyone turned to see a tall skinny guy pulling off his kutte as he walked towards her.

“Manny. You ready to settle this?”

“Damn straight.” He met her and looked down on her. “Ring. Five minutes. Winner takes all bets fair and square and loser apologizes.”

“Agreed. But we both know you’re about to be kissing my ass in apologies.” She smirked at him.

I quickly made my way over and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to show him what it means to disrespect me and let his old lady disrespect me.”

“You mean you’re going to fight him? Like hand to hand?”

“Yeah. How else?” She quirked and eyebrow at me. “Are you worried about me?” She smirked.

“A little. You could get hurt.”

She laughed and patted my chest. “Oh, Angel. Just watch and learn, prospecto.”

I watched her walk into the ring as Hank locked the door. Coco and Gilly standing to the side talking her up. She turned to look at me and gave me a wink. Before I knew it, Hank had rung a bell.

Fist began to fly. (Y/N) was quick on her feet and was able to dodge Manny fairly well. He got a few good punches on her but her height gave her quite the advantage to get him at a lower angle.

“Disrespect my old lady again, perra.”

“She deserved it. She needed to learn her place pendejo. And you’re about to learn yours for letting her act that way on my turf.”

With that, (Y/N) quickly turned with a kick to his ribs and a uppercut to his jaw, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor.

“I’ll take that apology now.” She said with the most devilish smirk.

Manny tapped the floor and (Y/N) helped him up. “I’m sorry for the disrespect. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.” She walked away and out the ring where everyone cheered at her. Hank patted her back and handed her a wad of cash.

“Damn girl. I didn’t know you could fight like that!” I said as she walked my way.

“I’m full of surprises.” She said with a raise of her arms. “Come on. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll get us a beer.”

I followed her inside and stood outside the bathroom. Keeping watch to make sure no one tried to mess with her like Bish wanted. Thirty minutes later she walked out, freshly showered and in jeans and a (f/c) shirt and Converse.

As she walked into the bar area cheers were heard all around. Bishop wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. He held her out by the shoulders and inspected her face.

“You put a hella beatin’ on him, kid.”

“Yeah, well. Thank my old man for that. He raised me right to not take shit and handle my own.”

Bishop laughed. He looked at me and I nodded. I made sure to stay by her side all night. After we got a beer we found a spot on the sofa in the corner.

“How long you been fighting?” I asked, relaxing with my arm on the back of the couch and facing her.

She shrugged. “Since I was a kid. Kept getting in fights at school. Dad had to keep coming up there bailing me out. Finally one day after Coco and Gilly joined he had them teach me how to focus my anger on something other than people. They trained me to channel my anger and it helped. I started doing better in school and graduated. Sometimes I spar with the others here but tonight was the first time I’ve had an actual fight with one of them for a reason. Seems it paid off.” She raised her beer and smiled.

I smiled back. “What you goin to do with the money?”

“Put some of it into my bike. Finish her up. The rest I’m going to use to help dad out. There’s some things I want to do for him to show him how much he means to me.” She sat her empty bottle on the table.

“Want another one?” She nodded. “Be right back.” I grabbed us another round and went back to my spot.

“So, tell me more about your mom. She sounds like she was a wonderful person.”

I smirked. “She was. She was the best there was. Always made sure me and EZ had what we wanted. More so him than me.”

“What you mean?”

“She always doted on him. Read to him. Her and Pop were always pushing him to do his best in everything. I mean I tried. Sometimes didn’t have to try hard and managed to do good. But EZ man, he was pushed to be the best. In the end though, after mom was killed, he ended up behind bars and I ended up here.” I looked around and lifted my hands.

I looked at (Y/N) who had a small smile on her face, eyes looking like they were staring into my soul.

“What?”

“Sounds like she knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Knew you’d be okay.”

“How so?”

“Well, she pushed your brother, doted on him, made sure to help him be the best because she could see early on what he would eventually become if she didn’t. When she died, what happened to him?” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Then there’s you. Sure you’re here, but have you been in trouble with the law? Ever been in trouble when you was a kid? Sounds to me like she knew who her good kid was and she didn’t have to worry about you turning out like one she’d lose sleep over at night. I’d say you turned out pretty damn good.”

I smiled and laid my head back. “Never thought of it like that. Where were you when I needed therapy cause of my fucked up childhood thoughts back in the day?”

She took a sip of her beer and shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows. I’m here now though. I know dad gave you the speech, but don’t let that stop you from wanting to talk. Just because I’m his kid and he’s the Prez don’t mean we can’t be friends.” She kicked my foot with hers. “Besides, I’d be bored as shit around here like I was without you around now.”

And there it was. That pretty fucking smile again.

____________

@ravennaortiz

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 4

Masterpost

Author's Note: I promise this fic will get more mission-oriented soon, but the next couple chapters will be very relationship-focused in the lead up to the Artemis 3 launch. I love these two and have a lot of fun writing them, so I hope y'all are okay with that!

--

Nearly everyone loves Gale Cleven. Those who followed the space program before have loved him since he first came on the scene as an astronaut candidate. Those who are only listening in as Artemis ramps up have the chance to fall in love with him now. Tall and handsome, cool and confident yet a little bashful, bright blue eyes, a winning smile, and a southern drawl. And an accomplished Air Force officer to boot.

Even as controversy over his sexuality continues to permeate certain spheres, for much of the world, it’s hard not to love Gale Cleven. Between training sessions, Marge sets him up with interviews and photoshoots, rushing him onto the Artemis scene as fast as he was selected for the mission. He’s tired as all hell, but he puts on a smile and sweet talks the media. 

“It’s an honor, you know?” he’ll say when reporters ask him what being selected to Artemis 4 means. “I really believe we can learn a lot about our world, and about the human species, through Artemis. We’ve been working towards this for years, and I’ll do my best by the American people to make them proud.”

“It’s real exciting, the way people are interested in the moon again,” he’ll say, with a cute little half smile, a wonder in his eyes, a confidence to his voice. “I’ve been in love with it since I was a kid. I get to share that with the whole world now.”

“Oh, we’ve got a great crew. Two great crews, on 3 and 4,” he’ll say when he’s asked about NASA’s preparedness for these missions. “We’ll get it done, don’t you worry.”

And when he sounds so sure, so calm, how can you not believe Gale Cleven? 

It’s been a long time since NASA has been able to capture the interest of the public so fully, but with the Artemis crews, there is a growing echo of the adoration that surrounded the Apollo astronauts so many years ago. These men and women are budding celebrities, whether they like it or not, and Gale Cleven and John Egan are the face of it.

Since the press conference, everyone tiptoes around the sexuality question. The marriage question. John hasn’t talked to the media since. But if anyone asks Gale about John Egan, no one can miss the undying love in his expression, the way his eyes go soft and his smile becomes just that little bit more genuine.

How can you not root for that?

The days following the Artemis 3 press conference and Gale’s appointment to Artemis 4 are busier than ever, filled with training, media, meetings, and more training. As the back-up commander for Artemis 3, Gale has gone through extensive training already in the Artemis mock-ups, including EVAs, flying, docking, and anything else NASA can throw at him. Now, however, he has a new crew to catch up with, including him as the new mission commander, Sandra as the new lunar module pilot, and Richard Macon and Helen as mission specialists.

He jumps right into the deep end – literally – with the crew. Their first few days training together consist of Orion simulations, excursions on mock lunar terrain while bogged down with EVA suits, and conducting mock zero-G EVAs in the neutral buoyancy tank. This includes donning full EVA gear and taking a deep dive into JSC’s 40-foot deep pool, where they can interact with full scale mock-ups of NASA spacecraft in order to simulate working through EVA activities in zero gravity.

While Gale grapples with performing repairs on the fake Orion hull, using tools through a bulky space glove as he floats around in a 6.2 million gallon tank of water, Bucky and Curt work through one of their final sim days for the Starship lunar lander, combatting scenario after scenario of different ways they can fuck up landing on the moon. While Bucky hops around on fake lunar terrain with a massive oxygen tank on his back, fighting the urge to pretend sword-fight with Curt using their sample collection tools, Gale leads his new crew through flight scenarios in the Orion sim. While Bucky artfully avoids any and all reporters by constantly busying himself with mission prep, Gale speaks transparently with the media about his new Artemis role. 

And while Gale turns in for the night after longer-than-ever days, Bucky is still at the space center, pushing himself and his crew to new limits.

–

October 8, 2025

Nassau Bay, TX

With their schedules demanding more of their time, Gale and John have barely had a spare moment together. Gale can hardly remember the last time they actually sat down and ate a meal together. One of them dropping by to see the other at JSC with a cheap cup of coffee doesn’t count. But their wedding is just a few days away, and, at Gale’s insistence, they had agreed to leave work a little early (or, less late than usual) in order to spend a nice evening away from the endless chaos of their exceptionally poor work-life balance.

Gale had finally managed to pull himself away and is now sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. He’s changed out of his work clothes, thankfully swapping the sweaty flight suit for a thin gray sweater and old jeans. He’s fighting the urge to check the time every twenty-three seconds. He is, however, acutely aware of the fact that it’s past 7pm, and Bucky had promised to make it home by 6:30. He sends him a quick text – “Waiting at home. Dinner’s almost ready.” – and decides to grab his laptop and review some mission protocols, answer emails, and anything else he can think of to distract himself. 

By 7:30, he’s tapping his fingers nervously on the countertop. He’s called Bucky twice, both times with no answer. Texts went unheeded. Marge hasn’t heard from him. Gale takes the pasta dish he’d made off the warmer and fills two plates with it, covers them, and puts them in the fridge. He sends another text – “Are you okay?” A couple minutes later, another – “What if I told you that I’m naked?”

Nothing. Even for that. He tries to brush off his growing disappointment and worry.

Bucky hasn’t been the same in the days since the press conference. They’d discussed at length how to proceed in the future -- Bucky didn’t like the idea of screening and pre-selecting every single question beforehand because he knew he’d come under fire for censorship or some shit. Gale agreed, knowing he’ll be facing the same things as Artemis 4 prep ramps up. However, they had decided to warn reporters that probing questions about the astronauts’ personal lives will result in them being removed from the premises at the discretion of the astronauts and the public relations officer. All Bucky has to do is give Marge a certain look and security will escort someone away. 

Otherwise, he’s avoided all discussion about it. Gale can tell, though, that it’s getting to him more than he wants to admit. 

By 7:50, Gale decides to eat without Bucky. He gives Pepper a few pieces of plain pasta to feel less alone. By the time he’s done, he feels officially stood up by his own husband-to-be. He picks up his phone and calls Rosie. “You guys still at JSC?”

“Yeah,” Rosie says. Gale hears a door swing open to the sound of an evening breeze and footsteps on pavement. “Yeah, we uh, we just finished up for the night. We had a hard time with one of the sims. Got it sorted, though.”

“Mmm.” Gale runs a hand through his hair and tries to figure out how he feels about that.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Gale drawls. “John, well, he said he’d meet me at home tonight for dinner. He’s over an hour late.”

He can imagine Rosie furrowing his brow, looking thoughtfully off to the side. “Oh, he didn’t say.” Gale hums again but doesn’t say anything else. Rosie sighs. “He’s been… off. Since the press conference. Like he has something to prove.”

“Right,” Gale says sadly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Will he talk to you about it?” Rosie asks. 

“Hardly.”

“No, me neither.” Both men go silent for a long moment before Rosie says, “I’m sorry Gale. If I’d known I would’ve kicked him out of there faster.”

“Yeah. Thanks Rosie.” Gale clicks the end-call button, and he buries his face in his hands, rubbing hard at his eyes, not sure if he wants to cry and yell or bang something real hard. He does none of it. He just sits alone at the island, feeling like an island himself. 

When Pepper, tail wagging, runs to the front door at the sound of the knob turning, it’s nearing 8:30pm. Bucky walks into the dark house. He follows the faint glow of light through the living room and into the kitchen, where he sees his fiancé sitting alone at the island, clicking away at his laptop and pointedly ignoring him. 

“Buck?”

Silence. 

“Gale?”

Bucky throws his bag down and walks to the other side of the island, sits down on a barstool, and stares at Gale. Gale stares at his laptop. Bucky reaches across and gently pushes the laptop shut. Gale frowns down at it. “When you’re two hours late, you don’t get to decide if I should pay attention to you.”

“You know how it is, Gale.”

Gale nods curtly and tries – fails – to swallow his frustration. “Yeah, John, I know how it is.”

“Great,” Bucky says. He reaches to take Gale’s hand in his, but Gale jerks away. “Why are you so upset then?”

Gale scoffs, still avoiding eye contact. His words are careful and deliberate. “I know how it is better than anyone. But that’s the point, John. We’ve both known how it is for months. That’s why we agreed to make today different. Just today. That’s all I fucking asked for. And you couldn’t even give me that.”

“We had to-“

“I don’t care what you think you had to do.”

“I can’t just-“

“You can do what you want. You always do anyways.” The words are, somewhere deep down, meant to sting. And Gale wishes he hadn’t said them, but some part of him can’t stand how John’s behavior tonight has left him wounded and defenseless and alone. 

“Gale, come on, I know I’m a little late, but I had to-”

“You’re more than a little late.”

Bucky slams a hand down hard and loud on the counter, startling Gale into looking up. He regrets it instantly, the moment he sees the hurt in Gale’s eyes, a sense of betrayal and wariness that Bucky can’t believe he just instigated. “Can you let me speak?” He grits out, forcing a calm into his voice. Gale stays quiet. Bucky sighs and pulls his hand away, curling his fingers tightly in his lap. “I need… I need this to go perfectly.”

“None of it goes perfectly,” Gale bites back. Even though he knows what Bucky meant. 

“I know. But I need to be perfect. I need to show them-“

“You don’t need to show anyone anything. You just need to do your job, like always.”

“The stakes are higher this time and you fucking know it.”

Gale clenches his jaw, trying to parse out the anger from the sadness from the worry. “This is about the homophobia.”

“No,” Bucky says too fast. Gale arches an eyebrow. “Maybe,” Bucky relents. 

“You won’t talk to me about it.”

“It doesn’t need to be talked about.”

“Clearly it does,” Gale exclaims, spreading his arms out wide. “Everyone is worried about you. Rosie, Marge, and Curt all say you haven’t been the same since the press conference. And they’re right. I’m worried about you.”

“Maybe everyone needs to mind their own business,” Bucky spits out bitterly. 

“You’re training too hard.”

“I’m going to the moon.”

Gale is quiet for a long time. Because he knows. God, he knows. He knows better than anyone. Bucky is going to the moon. Just a month after they get married. They don’t even have time for a damn honeymoon. And now Gale has to train for Artemis 4. The long days won’t get shorter, the short nights won’t get longer. Often, they barely see each other when they’re not at work or collapsing into bed. They rarely have time alone. Time to talk. Time to be close to each other. They knew this was how it would be, but that doesn’t make it easier.

“We’re getting married first,” Gale says weakly. “That’s… that’s still important, too.”

Bucky sighs and grips his hair in his hands. He can’t bring himself to look at Gale. He doesn’t even know why he says it: “you knew what you signed up for. Sometimes we have to prioritize.”

The echo of cruel words rings in the brief silence that follows. Gale stands up, looking anywhere but at Bucky. “Well,” he scoffs. “Good to know where I stand on your priority list.”

He walks away towards their bedroom, but stops in the hallway. “Dinner’s in the fridge. I made you a plate,” he mutters, and the gesture is kind but the words hit like a ton of bricks. Pepper follows Gale, trotting loyally at his heels, and Bucky hears their bedroom door click shut. 

-

He walks through the doors of the Hundred Proof because he doesn’t know where else to go. His head is spinning, pounding with an anger that he isn’t sure is towards Gale or towards himself or towards the assholes of the world who think they get to decide what he is and isn’t worth in the public eye. There’s something else under the anger, too, something that he isn’t ready to name, and it simmers beneath the surface like flames fighting for breath against water. 

The bar is always full of familiar faces, but he doesn’t look at a single one. A couple of voices that his brain doesn’t bother putting a name to call out to him, but they let him slip away. He wonders if that’s all it takes to disappear: just act like you don’t hear the words that people throw at you like stones. Except in the real world, they never stop throwing them even if you pretend they don’t hurt. He sits on a stool near the end of the bar and just stares at the astronaut portraits on the wall. Him and Gale. Always him and Gale. 

“Can I get you something honey?” 

Bucky blinks, adjusting his focus to see Jackie in front of him. She knows something is off, he can tell. He’s alone at the bar around dinner time, without Gale or anyone else, just a couple days before his wedding. All of that, and it’s written all over his face. 

“Whiskey,” he says. 

She nods and grabs a glass. When she sets it down in front of him, it’s got ice in it. He looks at her, and she looks back. “On the rocks,” she says. Like it’s a challenge. But she smiles softly at him. “Cause I don’t think you want it as much as you think you do.” 

Bucky thanks her – he isn’t so far out of it that he won’t be polite to a woman who has looked out for him as long as he’s been in Houston – and he takes a sip. He lets the alcohol sit on his tongue, slide down his throat. He lets it burn, and he sips it again. With a gentleness he doesn’t feel in his heart, his fingers brush across the condensation on the glass, and he thinks about how Gale always does that as a nervous habit when he’s been out a little too long and is starting to get tired of the company. 

He takes another sip. It doesn’t burn anymore, and he wishes it would. His throat feels numb like the rest of him, feeling like he’s drifting aimlessly about with no anchor to hold him down. He thinks about Gale. Shakes his head, tries not to think about Gale. 

He thinks about the press, shakes his head. Grips the glass too hard. Gets worried he’ll break it and lightens up. Tries not to think about the press. 

He thinks about the mission, rubs a hand over his face. Tries, for once, not to think about the mission. 

If we’re lucky the fag will die up there. 

He holds his breath to keep it from coming too fast. Where would that leave Gale?

He shakes his head, feels his lungs start to hurt as he keeps them from exchanging carbon dioxide for oxygen. Elevated CO2 levels and suffocation are common concerns in a spacecraft, common obstacles that, if not overcome, could be fatal… He gasps quietly and draws burning air into his lungs. The condensation from the glass leaves little droplets of water dripping from his hot fingertips, rolling down and splashing on the wooden bar top. He sips his whiskey and holds his breath again. 

He’s getting married in a few days. Right before he leaves the fucking planet. He just spat in his fiancé’s face. 

Gale deserves better. 

Bucky really might die up there. Is that better?

He shakes his head, decides, firmly, that that thought process is a little too far even for his brand of melodrama. He forces himself to exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, and rubs his whole hand up and down the cool glass, letting it ground him when he has nothing else to keep his wandering mind on this planet. 

“You okay, John?” Jackie asks. 

What the fuck is he doing here? 

He thinks he nods his head, but he isn’t sure. He might shake it instead. He stares at the pictures on the wall. Blinking tiredly, he looks around the bar. 

What is he doing here?

He looks at his whiskey glass and raises it to his lips, but he doesn’t take another sip. His mouth tastes bitter all of a sudden. He doesn’t want to be here. Why is he here?

He only came here because he didn’t know where else to go: where do you go when you’ve denied yourself access to the only place you want, no, need to be? He doesn’t want to be here at all. 

He can’t be here.

He thanks Jackie in a hurry and tosses some cash on the bar, next to a nearly full glass of whiskey. 

-

Gale has only been sitting in the living room, letting himself feel hurt and lost with a dog comfortingly in his lap and the news on in the background, for less than an hour when he hears the front door fly open. Pepper looks at him, as if she’s asking a question, asking permission. He scratches her behind one ear and tells her to “go get ‘im.” Without another thought she flies off the couch and he hears a faint “hey Pep” from the foyer as he gets to his feet. 

Bucky, assuming Gale would still be in the kitchen or bedroom, comes barreling in so fast that he bumps into him right in the middle of the living room. After a stunned pause, Bucky wraps his arms tight around Gale. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Gale slowly raises his arms to wrap around Bucky, and he lets his head drop to nestle against Bucky’s neck. 

“Can- can we talk?” Bucky asks quietly. His fist is clutching the fabric of Gale’s sweater, and he still feels sick at the whirlwind of unwelcome feelings in his head. 

Gale nods against Bucky’s neck, holding him just as hard. He still feels dizzy with the relief of his fiancé choosing to come home to him. “I’d like that.”

–

The night of October 10th, 2025, after an evening of low stakes partying with the entire wedding party, Gale is at home with Marge and Pepper while Bucky crashes with Curt. They’d decided to keep with tradition and stay apart for the night. Tomorrow, they’re getting married, and Bucky feels like he could really use a drink. Curt refuses him – for once, he’d agreed not to be the instigator or enabler. It’s his job as best man to get Bucky down the aisle in one piece, and that includes not being drunk or hungover. 

Bucky knows this, and really he’d never disappoint Gale like that, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t use a goddamn drink. 

He can’t stop anxiously tapping his fingers, shaking his leg, biting his lip as they watch some crappy movie on TV. Curt wants to smack him to get him to stop, but getting the groom down the aisle in one piece also means no bruises. 

After entirely too long of this, Bucky suddenly asks, “What if I’m not good enough?”

Curt nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters in disbelief. The day before the wedding, after knowing Gale for over 15 years and being passionately together for much of that, Bucky questioning himself now is absolutely laughable. Buck and Bucky are not the most stable people in this world, but Curt has never in his life seen a relationship as solid and quite literally bomb-proof as theirs. They bridge the gap between admirable devotion and concerning co-dependency quite flawlessly. 

Bucky is furrowing his brow, though, frowning deeply as he clutches the arm of the couch with his right hand and stares at the floor. “What if Gale doesn’t… what if he doesn’t want… me? Anymore.”

��Bucky, what the fuck.” Curt can’t help but actually laugh. Bucky just stares at him with the widest eyes, though, and Curt rubs the bridge of his nose. “I love ya man, but get it together. There hasn’t been a single moment since you two met that Gale hasn’t wanted you.”

“Curt,” Bucky sighs, putting his head in his hands. “I fucked up, man. I… shit, I did and said some things. We’re having a hard time with Artemis you know. I fucked up.”

Curt sets his drink on the coffee table and leans across the couch to put a hand on Bucky’s knee. “Bucky, you both know how this goes. You’ve been through everything together. That man loves ya more than anything in the world, and I don't really get how but he does. So yeah, ya fucked up. But couples fight. You’ll get through it.”

Bucky bites at his lower lip. “What if… what if it gets to be too much? Gale deserves so much better than me. What if I can’t… what if I can’t keep my head straight and…”

Curt tries not to roll his eyes. He is not cut out for this kind of thing. He’s NASA’s least eligible (but he likes to think favorite) bachelor for a reason. “Ok, ya know what, I can’t deal with this.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts before pressing call. “Marge, I’ve got a code blue… blue for depressed… Marge, don’t give me that. I’ve got a kicked puppy over here freakin’ the fuck out the night before his wedding cause he thinks he ain’t good enough and Gale’ll quit lovin’ him… yes, I know. I laughed too… I tried… yes I fucking did I don’t need your sass… ok fuck you, I’m putting you on.”

He shoves the phone at Bucky’s face and mouths ‘talk.’

“Hello?” Bucky says into the phone. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” Marge asks. 

“Curt’s the worst best man is what’s going on.” He glares at Curt who sticks out his tongue as he leans back into the cushions on the other end of the couch.  

“Well he called me so he must not be totally useless,” Marge jokes.

Bucky frowns and picks at the fabric of his sweatpants. “I, uh… I guess I’m havin’ cold feet. Is that what they call it?” Marge hums patiently, letting him know he needs to go on. “I just.” He breathes deeply. “I can’t get our fight the other day outta my head, and uh, I still feel shitty about it, you know? And it’s making me nervous about… fuck I don’t know. What if… what if Gale... What if he…”

“Bucky, take a deep breath for me,” Marge says. He follows her instructions. “Now, tell me, do you really think, after all this time and everything you two have been through, you need to be concerned?”

“Yes.”

Curt smacks a palm to his face, and Bucky feels like he can hear Marge doing the same. Curt grabs the phone. “Just put him on,” he demands. Then he hands the phone back to Bucky and there’s rustling on the other end. 

Then, “John?”

Bucky bites his lip as his heart starts beating faster. “Hi.”

“What’s wrong?” Gale asks. Something in Bucky crumbles and reassembles at the same time when he hears the warm cadence of his concerned voice. 

“People keep asking me that.” Bucky sighs. Then it all comes tumbling out. “I’m sorry, really sorry, about the other day. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I said it. Everything has been crazy. The press is getting to me and this mission is… it’s big Gale. You know that. And with the wedding, all eyes are gonna be on us more than before. And they’re gonna say things. Shit, they’re already sayin’ things. And there’s been threats and… I should be used to it and I am but… it’s hard sometimes. And I was… I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it more. I fucked it, and I was upset and I hurt you and I still feel terrible and… I’m just sorry.”

“I know,” Gale says gently. “We talked through it that night, remember?”

“I know.” Bucky feels dangerously close to crying and he hates it. Gale’s voice is exactly what he needs to hear and it kills him anyways. “I can’t get it all outta my head. The mission, the wedding, the press. And it’s just, it feels like too much. And I’m… They… they want me to die up there. What if I… and then you’re…” He can’t even speak the words. He’s been a pilot for over a decade now, and he’s barely ever given the prospect of death a thought. But the idea of tying himself to Gale only to… well, only to miss out on their future. Only to leave Gale on his own… he can’t even think about it.  

“It’s gonna be alright,” Gale reassures him. “Y’all are the best damn crew in the agency, John. The risks have never stopped me loving you before.”

“God, Gale, I’m fucking scared.” He hates to say it out loud, this feeling that he long ago decided he isn’t allowed to have. But if he doesn’t say it to someone, he feels like he might self-destruct. And if he can’t say it to Gale, he can’t say it to anyone. 

“You don’t need to be, darling,” Gale says. “I’m right here with you.” 

“But what if… what if you change your mind?” Bucky feels so small, and his voice sounds far away to his own ears, infinitesimal, like screaming into a void.

But Gale chuckles softly and Bucky just cannot understand why that question is so funny to everyone. Until Gale starts to speak, his voice measured and gentle and emotional and everything Bucky loves about it. “John Egan, I loved you the moment you barreled into my life, and I have loved you every moment since,” he says. “I have loved you with my entire being, my body, my heart, and my soul for over 15 years. I don’t know how not to love you anymore, and I don’t want to know.”

Bucky feels the forbidden tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but Gale is just getting started. “Because no matter where we go, or what we do, I want you there. We were just kids when we met. Now we’re pilots, Air Force officers, astronauts. We’ve seen and done incredible things that most people can only dream of, and now we’re both going to the moon. But even with all of that, today is the day that makes everything worth it, because you are the person who makes everything in my life worth it.” 

He trails off, and Bucky takes a deep breath, wiping at his eyes, willing himself not to break down right there and then. 

“Are those your vows?” He manages to choke out. 

“Part of ‘em.”

“Aren’t you supposed to save them for tomorrow?”

Gale lets a brief silence linger between them. Then he says, “seemed like you needed to hear them now.” When Bucky is quiet, he adds “I can’t wait to marry you, John.”

“Well now I really have to step up my vows,” Bucky laughs shakily. “Gotta tell my bride everything he deserves to hear.”

Gale ignores the bride comment. “You’ve always been enough for me. You always will be.”

When they hang up, Bucky doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry, so he grins like a maniac at the phone on the table and Curt sighs dramatically in relief.

- -

Part 5

[dhorrl]

Initiation

MDNI 18+

Feitan/Original Character (I gave her a name after I decided to put descriptors)

Trigger Warnings:

BDSM

Knife/sword play

Blood play

Mentions of rape/pedophilia/torture (OC has a rough history)

Spoiler for the manga (death of a character)

AFAB/She/Her pronouns

Maybe others to be honest I tried to think of things that might bother people, but this is Feitan, you know what you’re getting yourself into.

I do have this as a sort of chaptered story saved somewhere, but I don’t know if anyone actually wants that or if they just want the smut.

Things had quieted down for the Phantom Troupe. Hisoka was still hunting them, but they had strength in numbers. Everyone rotated, staying with the boss, constantly two or three at a time, and always staying with someone else in the Troupe when not with Chrollo. They used this time to search out and find new recruits, ones with Nen abilities that would fill the gaps in their ranks, much to Feitan's dismay. He was still bitter about losing Shalnark, though he never let it show.

It seemed that, for now, Hisoka was laying low, although it was never a good idea to let your guard down with the sadistic magician. While he knew he was strong, even Hisoka was aware that he couldn’t take down the entire Troupe at the same time. Besides, his plan was to kill them all, one by one, to re-fight Chrollo on fair ground. His bitter desire for revenge fueled his patience. He also made it a point to kill anyone worthy of joining the Troupe, doing his best to prevent them from re-building.

Many of the new potential members that did make it through were vetted by Feitan. Chrollo wanted to ensure that anyone they added going forward could withstand endless torment since Hisoka was known to be vindictive. Who better to test them out than Feitan? The boss didn't realize Feitan used this trial to unleash his frustrations. Many were not leaving alive or in one piece.

"Feitan, I know I said to torture them, but perhaps leave one alive," Chrollo remarked calmly. Feitan replied, looking away from Chrollo, "They were not worthy. I only pushed to make sure they could endure it."

Still, he would attempt to present the boss with a new member soon. Phinks mentioned he had located someone with abilities that might throw Feitan for a loop, though he shrugged it off. He was starting to feel bored. The people making it through to him were not even close to being worth his time, and he had suspected for a while that Hisoka was behind it all.

Phinks ushered the latest prospect into Feitan's chamber within their warehouse on the outskirts of Meteor City. He was not predicting what he saw. This slim, petite woman, even shorter than he, stood in a black skirt, tank top, and combat boots. Her jet-black hair was back in a simple braid. Her simple attire stood to accentuate the sharpness of her jaw, the softness of her eyes, but those things were not what grabbed Feitan's attention. His gaze went to her arms and legs, entirely covered with scars. Anyone who received that sort of treatment from him would be dead. Yet, she glanced casually at the instruments around the room and the dried blood stuck to the floors and the wall.

“Hey, Feitan, this is Jun.” Phinks said. "Jun here is gonna be our new member, I'm sure of it."

Feitan snapped. "I'll decide that, Phinks. Did you give her the password?"

Phinks smirked. The interrogation strategy went as such; another member would give the nominee a word or phrase, and Feitan's assignment was to extract that information by any means possible. "Oh yeah, she's got it already. I won't give anything away, but she's gonna be a tough nut to crack. Good luck, Feitan." Phinks winked at Jun in his feeble attempt at flirting.

Jun rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Well, come on, let's see what you got." She beckoned Feitan towards her as she stepped to the center of the room. She almost seemed bored, as if she was testing Feitan as much as he was testing her. "So, Feitan, is it? Chains or no chains?" She gestured towards the ties around the wooden chair where he secured his marks.

Feitan's eyes tightened. He despised feeling like he was being told how to do his job. "Definitely chains," he said as he tied her to the seat. There was no resistance from her; she was almost helping as she moved her arms around into a perfect position for tying.

"Do your worst; I give you permission to do anything you like." Jun shot a look at Feitan. "Although I doubt you'll cross any of my lines. Punch me, kick me, stab me, burn me; it's all the same." She leaned against the chair with a heavy sigh.

Feitan felt suspicious; he was confident in his abilities to break anyone, but this person put him on edge. At the same time, however, he felt strangely aroused. She was beautiful, the mess of scars on her flesh only making her more so in his eyes.

He shook it off, reached for a blindfold, and covered and secured her eyes, preferring to give her no sign of what might be coming next. He closed his own eyes, reminding himself again to try and keep her alive. If she was worthy of the Phantom Troupe, then breaking too many bones or removing body parts wasn’t on the table. Still, dislocating a few joints was a different story, as well as deep cuts and wounds that Machi could fix up. Hell, if he did cut off her arm, Machi could just sew it back on. However, Machi was away on another job and wouldn’t be back for a while. He imagined the cut off parts would still need to be fairly fresh for reattachment.

Once he felt he had a good plan that didn’t involve tearing her from limb to limb, he balled up his fist, and punched her forcefully in the stomach. A direct hit like that alone would take down many a strong man, and that’s without using Nen. Jun gagged for a moment, the wind knocked out of her. Blood splattered from her throat. He smiled, watching as the warm, red liquid began dripping from the corner of her mouth. He thought to himself, “This won’t take long at all.” But then, he heard her laugh.

"That's the best you got?" she murmured through strained breaths. Feitan was enraged. He restrained himself from punching a hole through her chest cavity. He reached behind her, grabbing at her index finger and pulling it in a perfect jab, dislocating it from the joint. She yelped slightly, but then continued laughing. Next was the pinky finger, popping from the joint with a satisfying snap, then pressing down to increase the pain.

Jun knew she could take more because she already had. She thought back to her childhood. Ever since she was little, her father and his friends gathered and did evil, wretched things to her. Her mother looked the other way when Jun would come home with her father covered in bandages and bruises. But Jun was strong, strong enough to stay alive. Until one day, her screams and cries no longer satiated their desires. Jun was too old for them now. The day her father took her sister out of the house and came back alone was the day Jun lost herself. Her rage towards her father, mother, and the men who hurt her and her sister was too much. She swore to kill every last one of them... and she had.

Jun was a stubborn target, but Feitan had his share of those before and still managed to crumble their will. The difference, however, is he could always use threats of death, where here he was really having to restrain himself. Feitan continued, hitting her across the face, narrowly resisting from breaking her jaw. Again across the right side near her eye, then again on the left. Once he was satisfied with where he was, he snarled. "Tell me the password."

Jun was quiet, and he thought he was getting close to breaking her. Then the silence was broken by a maniacal laugh through heavy coughs. "Come on, little man, you barely got started."

Feitan grit his teeth. Jun was mocking him? "You talk shit, I see." His patience was usually so strong, but she was pushing his buttons. He grasped the small double-edged tanto from his pocket and impaled her in the abdomen. Jun let out a moan that echoed through the chamber, causing Feitan to take a step back. He'd heard many sorts of cries from his victims, but that was unexpected. "Oh, did I not mention? The more you hurt me, the more it turns me on." Her tongue darted out, licking her lips sensually.

Jun's laugh was full of her own insanity. To Feitan, the unhinged sound rang like music to his ears. He bore the knife into her throat. He had an idea that would probably end him, but he was losing control. "I'm going to make you tell me the password. But first, I'm going to have some fun." He drug the knife across her throat, not entirely through but just enough to make her bleed. She bit her lip, enjoying the sensation of cold metal through her skin. He persisted, cutting off her shirt and skirt keeping him from the rest of her tender flesh. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scars that littered the rest of her body, her torso and hips and even her back. He found a few areas where the skin had yet to be touched, and ran the knife across, barely pressing down to just break the skin. Jun’s body bucked into the knife, enjoying the pain and aching flushing through her body. She hated herself for how fucked up this all ways, how she savored and craved this feeling. As for Feitan, he felt awakened in a way he'd never quite experienced.

He leaned over and licked the blood dripping down her neck onto her chest. Jun’s body shook with desire. She had not been anticipating that. It caused an involuntary groan as Feitan's tongue glided through the blood and sweat.

"Fuck, I thought you were supposed to be torturing me, Feitan." She was panting, feeling the heat rising between her legs. Jun couldn't help but tease him, poking to see how much more he would give her.

"There are many types of torture, you know," he whispered in her ear, his deep voice giving her goosebumps. "I happen to be an enthusiast of all types." He pushed the knife back into his pocket and removed the blindfold covering her face. Blood was dripping from Jun's nose, and deep purple bruises formed over her face. Her right eye was swollen shut. He had done his best not to break her jaw, but he did some severe damage. Her seductive gaze drew him in closer, then she spit blood into his face.

Feitan stood there motionless, then brushed the blood from his face. He took her throat in one hand, pressing down on her windpipe. "Next time you speak to me, you will tell me the password." With his other hand, he parted her legs and slid his fingers into her core, surprised but pleased to feel she was dripping wet. She moaned hoarsely through his hold on her throat. He continued working his fingers in while sliding his thumb over her clit. He wanted to soak his hand in her, savor her forbidden juices with his fingers.

Still grasping her throat, he lightly released enough for her to take a deep breath, then pressed back. She leaned back, trying to use the back of the seat as leverage to grind harder onto his hand. She was so close to release, just a little further…

Feitan withdrew both his hands. Jun took a deep gasp, and tears welled in her eyes. He examined his fingers, dripping with sticky fluids. His fingers glided through the blood dripping down her chest and slid into her mouth, mixing everything together. He grabbed her neck and shoved his own tongue in next, wanting to taste the salty, bloody mix of fluids. Once he pulled away, she eyed him for a moment. "Fuck you. I guess you're really playing hardball now."

Feitan flew back at her. Within seconds he adjusted her chains, forcing her to the ground on her knees and securing her hands to her feet behind her. He removed his black overcoat and undid the tie on his pants. "Fucking brat, I told you not to speak unless you tell me the password." He pulled down the front of his pants and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking.

Jun drooled, astounded at the girth of the man with such a small stature. Feitan snatched her by the hair and shoved himself down her throat, acting as the gag to keep her from speaking again till he let her. Jun’s eyes were ravenous as she looked up at Feitan, who she noticed was cruel and sadistic in the best ways. He was like her personal demonic angel, supplying the suffering she yearned for. Jun could sense that Feitan was in his element, and so was she. She was suffocated by him, exhilarated that he was violating her in such a way. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, picking up speed with animalistic want. Watching the tears run down her face, he felt like a god among men.

Feitan could feel himself getting close. His body was spasming, but he continued to mangle her throat, even through her gags and heaving and watched her take all his creamy nectar. He withdrew his cock, and she looked up into his eyes, tongue out to show the finished product painted inside her mouth. The sticky cum was melting down her face, then she tucked it in to swallow, licking the aftermath off her lips. Feitan's perverted mind was ecstatic. "So, ready to tell me?"

Jun's eyes were glazed with submission. "I'll tell you... if you please let me cum, too."

“You act like you have upper hand here. If you want to finish, “he grabbed her by the throat, “you will tell me password.”

Hot tears were forming at the edge of her eyes, feeling the heat between her legs pulsing and close but not able to give her the satisfaction she was craving. “If I tell you, and you let me finish,” she whimpered, “am I still going to be a Spider?”

Feitan's primal urges opened up. He knelt in the pool of blood surrounding her and untied her chains, releasing her arms from above. Then he laid back on the concrete floor, unbothered by the horrifying mess that had been created. Jun saw her opening and crawled on top of him, hovering over his still erect member. She glided along the shaft, soaking it in her wetness before slipping it inside. It felt amazing. All the sensations of touch, taste, and smell she was experiencing were explosive. Feitan used his thumb to circle around her sensitive nerves, and Jun couldn't take anymore. She screamed loud, the orgasmic pulses shooting through her body. She crumpled forward, laying her head on Feitan's forehead. "By the way, the password is "password." Totally worth it, though." Feitan lay there quietly momentarily, then an honest laugh escaped his lips. He sat up, entangling his hands in her hair, and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I bandage you up. You bleed out."

Jun’s eyes sparkled. “Watch this.” She stood up, closed her eyes, and Feitan noticed the distinct glow of Hatsu around her. He tensed a moment, preparing for the worse, but relaxed when he saw the stab wound close as if it had never happened. Each open cut and scrape sealed. Once the last one disappeared, she released her focus and opened her eyes to see Feitan’s awed expression. He stood up and approached her, running his finger over the spot he had stabbed earlier. A faint, smooth scar was there. He noticed that all of the gashes he made were like that, like whispers on her velvety skin, but that others were raised and rough. He put together that those had to be before she developed her abilities. There were hundreds more scars like those.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. "Spider now. Let's do again sometime."

[crystalheart11]

this is really random but since school is starting soon what are you planning on wearing for the first day of school? i'm not really sure but i'm planning on wearing a lot of black (because it's a sad day), so a black ruffle skirt and a pink tank top with black combat boots. for jewelry i'm thinking of just a silver necklace with hearts. and i'm thinking of getting a french manicure before school starts.

i'm curious to know what you all are wearing and for some inspo. no pressure ofc!! @izzy444angel @i-know-you-wanna-kiss-me @bookns @lu-luvslestat @luvpisces @littldolli @lifairys @evanescentangell @yourgirlrey @stargirljackie444 @hangingirl @diordolly333 @girlbloggerinterrupted777 @ch3rrygrl @r3ysdr3am @constantlymisgendered @xtiitaniia and anyone else who wants to do this ♡♡