#he's been wronged! how can i justifiably ask him to just roll over and take it?

[kizzer55555]

Alternative idea. They are chasing Danny ‘the betrayer’ down and as they follow the leads and clues and leftovers of where he’s been, they start slowly piecing together the mystery of who Danny is and why he’s doing this. And they find out just how deep the betrayal went. Because it was the Justice league that made the first move.

They finally catch up with him and he’s decoding something and he just snaps at them to leave him alone. He’s cold, not even acknowledging at them, this is nothing like the Danny they knew. They try to talk to him and when that doesn't work it breaks out into a battle. But Danny knows all their moves and weaknesses and they don’t know the first thing about his limits. He’s ruthless and efficient, not showing the barest hint of emotion on his face like this battle against his ‘friends’ means nothing to him. He doesn’t even have to reveal his powers. And once they are all completly immobile he whispers “I never wanted to hurt you.” Someone scoffs. “You have a funny way of showing that.” Danny rolls his eyes. “It’s your own fault. You really should have seen this coming.”

“Oh really?” A hero speaks, venom dripping with every word. “Is it really that easy to betray your friends? To betray the ones you trust?”

Danny just laughs without any emotion behind it. “Trust? Nah, I never trusted you. Let me tell you something, when my home town was invaded, we called the Justice league. But they never came. When we were besieged every. Single. Day. By monsters and demons and entitled government agents that had no regard for casualties, they never came. Do you know what it’s like? To always have to look at the sky in case something comes down a snatch you? To hide behind a trash can or alley wall and pray that skin peeling cyborg will pass you by? To be scared of the very food you eat wondering if it was poisoned or the meat was going to attack you? To wake up realize no one is moving and wonder if your friends and family will ever wake up again? We called over and over but they never came. So we had to find our own way to fight back. We had to build weapons to protect ourselves and our children. We had to fight tooth and nail just to make it to tommorow and finally, finally we figured out a system. We managed to push them back enough to breathe. And it was only then that your people arrived.

You abandoned my town to face their death. You took me from my home. You locked up my family and tortured them.” By now, Danny was screaming and crying. His eyes looked absolutely devastated. “How…can you possibly ask me to trust you after that?”

Danny doesn’t even explain himself and his reasoning. That’s how little he thinks of the heroes. He doesn’t care if what they think he’s doing is right or wrong or if it’s justified. Some think he’s doing some sort of master plan to take over the world rather than just rescuing his parents which makes even more devastating to them when they find out what he’s actually doing.

It’s a race against time and by the end, Waller launches a strike against the heroes and it ends up being Danny that built a counter solution to the anti super weapons. He still doesn’t care about them but he was a protector at heart. He always will be. He just didn’t need someone’s ‘permission’ to do so. When he finally frees his parents (possibly dragging in the help of his classmates for a break out) they stand and Waller says that they’ve lost as they are surrounded, no weapons, and all the heroes/former villains powerless because of machines specifically designed against them. And that’ when Danny looks her right in the eyes and says that there’s one thing he forgot to mention.

He has powers too.

Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.

"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"

This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.

Both he and his parents had been arrested.

Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.

Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.

Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.

He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.

Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.

The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.

Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.

Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???

[railingsofsorrow]

don't walk out

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  

lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  

it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 

“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  

“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 

“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 

it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  

“I'm gonna drive.” 

“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 

“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  

he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  

“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 

his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 

but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 

“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 

“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  

he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 

“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 

“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  

“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 

and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 

but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 

we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 

“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  

“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  

spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 

you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  

and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  

“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 

[willalove75]

hello hello!! I hope you’re doing well and also super congrats on your baby 🎉🎉

Was wondering if you could possibly write more about domestic Alcina based on that one fic you wrote? Maybe something along the lines of a romantic night in together when it’s stormy outside. I’m a sucker for how you wrote her in a domestic and modern setting and I’d love to see more if you wouldn’t mind ^^’

no worries at all if you don’t take this request!! I just super love your writing for Alcina Dimitrescu and it makes me super happy to read your work when I can 🩵🩵

Hiii! Thank you so much! Baby and I are doing great! He’s the best thing in the whole world, I love him so much🥺😭💕

Thank you so much for the request! An idea for this popped into my head immediately when I read this ask and I’ve been super excited to write it since!! I’m so glad you liked my domestic!Alcina so much! She’s so much fun to write in different settings but a modern Alcina always has me in some kind of a chokehold😂

I hope you enjoy!!

Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, teensie bit of degradation kink and mommy kink, and more fluff.

A/N: ITS FINALLY DONE😭 I proof read this once so please ignore any errors or whatever. Or let me know and maybe I'll fix them (wishful thinking lmao) also soft!Alcina is baby.

Rain pelts against the back door while lightning fills the sky with flashes of white. The boom of the thunder makes the house shake. You find yourself curled up on the couch, staring out into the inky, rainy night as you pout. Usually, you’re not one to pout, but tonight, you make an exception. Justifying your sour attitude by telling yourself if anyone else was in your situation, they would be pouting too.

Today is your anniversary with Alcina, a day you were immensely looking forward to. The two of you have been together for a few years now, and every year Alcina would take the reins and plan what the two of you would do on your anniversary. Extravagant vacations, expensive jewelry, on your one year anniversary she even got you a brand new car meanwhile there was nothing wrong with the one you were driving. Alcina spared no expense and always went above and beyond.

This year, however, you begged her to let you plan the day. She could still arrange whatever ridiculous plans she could come up with; because a three year anniversary normally doesn’t call for a two week stay in a luxury resort on a tropical island, but for Alcina, it wasn’t something she thought twice about before booking.

After softening her up with some good sex and puppy dog eyes, Alcina rolled her blue-gray eyes while a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips as she relented.

“Fine, draga. You may plan what we do the day of our anniversary. However, I still fully intend to book the European getaway I’ve been eyeing for you.” You look up into her eyes as you lay on top of her, resting your chin on your arms folded over her chest, a wide smile gracing your features. Before you can speak she holds up her finger to stop you. “Only on one condition.”

Arching your brow at her, you ask “what condition?”

“In the condition that I finance whatever it is you are planning.” You go to argue and she cuts you off again. “Absolutely not, I will not have you spend your hard earned money on our anniversary. You may plan whatever you like, but you’re using my credit card.”

You roll your eyes at her and groan in disapproval. Before you can register her movements, Alcina’s large hand lands a firm smack on your ass. A yelp escapes your lips; your ass is already red, raw and sore from the night's earlier activities.

“Don’t make me spank that attitude out of you my darling. You know I won’t show you mercy.”

Rolling off of Alcina and onto your back, you cup your ass as you let out a whine.

“God damnit!”

Alcina smirks and before you can recover from the sting, you feel her weight settle on top of you.

“So, have we fixed that attitude? Or is a punishment in order?”

“Nooo.” You whine. “Fine, I’ll use your card.”

“Good girl.” Alcina says as she trails her lips and nose up and down the side of your neck, her skin just barely brushing against yours.

After the multiple rounds the two of you just went, you were convinced that you were tapped out for the night. However, in typical Alcina fashion, she knows exactly what to do to elicit a response from your body. As she places feather-light kisses up your neck, her hands slide up from your hips to the dip of your waist. Her hands travel higher until her fingertips are skimming the sides of your breasts. Even with the weight of her breasts on top of yours, you can still feel the sensation of your nipples hardening against her skin.

A familiar wetness forms between your legs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight as Alcina presses her thigh against your cunt. She smirks at how easily she’s able to arouse you. Sitting up, Alcina hooks one of your legs over her hip and rocks into you, grinding her cunt against yours.

“Mmm, I love how wet I can make you with just a few light touches. My sweet, sensitive girl.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a filthy moan as she picks up the pace. Before you know it, the two of you are rutting against each other, crying out each other's names as you chase your highs together.

The closer your anniversary got, the more excited you were for what you had planned. From morning until night, you had the whole day planned out. For breakfast, you were going to take her to her favorite cafe for coffee and pastries. After breakfast, the plan was to walk to her favorite art museum, which conveniently happened to be only a couple of blocks from the cafe. Knowing Alcina, even though she’s been there hundreds of times, the two of you would be wandering around the museum for hours. Especially since a new exhibit was supposed to open up a couple of weeks before your anniversary. It would be lunchtime by the time you were done at the museum, so you planned to have a picnic set up in the park in her favorite, secluded spot. You spared no expense on buying all of her favorite meats, cheeses, crackers, spreads, and of course, a couple of bottles of her favorite wine: Sanguis Virgnins. After lunch, you planned to walk around the park a bit and then before sunset, head to the beach for a sunset walk along the water. For dinner, you made a reservation at her favorite restaurant that overlooks the ocean. To conclude the evening, you planned to have rose petals scattered across the floor and candles lit around the house to set the mood for a passionate, romantic end to your anniversary.

Everything was set and perfect, now you only had to wait for the day. For days you were on the edge of your seat with excitement, hoping Alcina would love what you’ve curated for the two of you. It wasn’t until yesterday did things go south. A storm warning lit up your phone screen as you and Alcina were having dinner. The storm was supposed to veer off into the ocean and bypass you completely, but as if god himself wanted to shit all over your perfectly planned day, the storm came straight up the coast and landed practically at your front door.

Alcina knew how excited you were to surprise her with the perfect day so she insisted on doing as much as you possibly could. So on the morning of your anniversary, the two of you headed over to the cafe. Even though you were only outside just to get in and out of the car, by the time you finished breakfast and made it to the museum, the two of you were soaked to the bone. To make matters worse, the museum had the air conditioning on full blast, which caused the both of you to shiver as you tried to enjoy the artwork. You weren’t even in the museum for half an hour before you decided to cut your losses and head home.

So here you are, sitting on the couch staring out into the storm and pouting. After you got home, Alcina went to shower. She invited you in but you were too down and didn’t want to bring her mood down also, so you declined her offer and changed into comfy sweats and made your way downstairs to the living room.

“Draga?” Alcina’s voice pulls your focus away from the dark, dreary outdoors.

“Hm?”

“My darling, don’t look so upset.” She says as she makes her way over to you.

“I can’t help it, I am upset! I had the perfect day planned and it got completely shat on.”

Alcina comes to a stop in front of you and lifts your chin to look up at her. When you’re standing you have to crane your neck to look up at her, but when you’re sitting? You basically have to bend your head as far back as it can go.

With her other hand, she cards her fingers through your still-damp hair, gently scratching at your scalp.

“I’m sorry your plans got rained out, draga. But we still have plenty of time to turn this dreary day around.”

You place your hands on her hips, that are practically eye-level with you, and smooth your thumbs over the silk of her robe. “I guess.”

“Besides,” she says as the hand in your hair slides to the back of your head where she slowly grabs your hair by the root, just the way you like it. “You weren’t the only one who planned something for today. And luckily, the inclement weather has no effect on what I have planned for you tonight.” 

She gently pulls you up by your hair as she leans down and brushes her lips against yours. “So, what do you say, iubirea mea? Come, show me what you have here.”

Alcina pulls away before you can lean in to kiss her and she grabs your hand, leading you into the kitchen where the spread that was supposed to be for your picnic is laid out on the island.

Picking up a few items and inspecting them, Alcina raises an eyebrow and smirks at you when she recognizes all of her favorite, super fancy meats and cheeses.

“This is quite an impressive spread you have here, draga.”

You pick up a jar of caviar and turn it over in your hands as you speak. “Yeah, this was supposed to be our lunch, which was supposed to be in our favorite spot in the park.”

Alcina’s eyes soften at your words, touched at the thought and little details you put into your plans.

“Well, even though it’s past lunchtime, it would be a shame to let all of this go to waste, don’t you think?” She says, trying to bait you, but you can be just as stubborn as she is. So you just shrug your shoulders, mumbling an “I guess” in response.

She walks around the island and takes the jar of caviar out of your hands. Knowing how much you love her hands, she makes a show of popping the jar open and dipping a tiny spoon into it. When that doesn’t work, she offers you the spoon, knowing damn well you hate caviar. You take one whiff and you scrunch your nose and pull away.

“Oh stop, it doesn’t even have a smell.” She says before popping the spoon in her mouth and slowly closes her lips around it. Always one for theatrics, she slowly pulls the spoon from between her lips and rolls her eyes back and moans in pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”

When her gray eyes open and meet yours, you can’t help but shake your head and let out a small chuckle at her antics. She leans in to kiss you and you pull back, avoiding her lips.

“Nuh-uh. I am not kissing you when you most certainly taste like fish.”

Alcina rolls her eyes for real this time and sets the jar and spoon down on the counter. To your surprise, she grabs the ball of mozzarella with her hands and pulls a chunk of it off. Splitting the piece in two, she leans her head back and drops the cheese into her mouth. After a couple of chews, since she is never one to speak with food in her mouth, she swallows it and arches her perfectly manicured brow at you.

“Better?” She says, flatly.

You can’t help but smile at her and nod your head. She leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“Open.” She says once you part, still holding the other piece of mozzarella in her hand.

Opening your mouth wide, she drops the piece of cheese onto your tongue and you happily chew it. This time it's your turn for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and let out a moan - only it’s genuine, you’re not trying to put on a show like Alcina was earlier.

When you open your eyes, you open them to Alcina sticking her finger into her mouth, cleaning off the remnants of the cheese. Your mouth goes dry and your pupils dilate as you watch her. She always knows how to get you going and offers you her other finger to clean, and because you’re a total slut for this woman, you part your lips on command and take her finger into your mouth.

You caress her finger with your tongue a few times before Alcina presses down on it, pinning it in place. Her lips part and her eyes dilate as she looks down at you with her finger in your mouth and she slowly thrusts her finger back and forth across your tongue. With each thrust her finger goes a little deeper and deeper and you whimper around it. After one final thrust that goes deeper than all of the other ones, nearly making you gag, she pulls her finger from your mouth and captures your lips in a kiss. Cupping your face in her large hands, Alcina flicks her tongue into your mouth, once, twice, and as you lean in for a third swipe, she abruptly pulls away.

An actual whine leaves your lips before you can stop yourself and Alcina chuckles, brushing her nose against yours. She pulls away and makes her way back around the island, putting a small plate of food together.

Looking up at you, feigning innocence, she cocks her head to the side and asks “aren’t you going to eat?”

You let out a groan, now that you’re almost uncomfortably wet, you rub your thighs together and make your way next to her. Alcina smirks, knowing just how turned on you are. Her little plan to distract you is slowly coming to fruition.

Some time passes by and you end up sitting on the counter while you and Alcina feed each other different meats and cheeses and refill each other's wine glasses well before they need refilling. She spreads your favorite fig jam on a cracker and puts it between her teeth, offering you the other half. With a giggle, you bite into the other half. As you’re each chewing your piece, in an uncharacteristic move, no doubt fueled by the copious amounts of wine you’ve both had, Alcina presses her lips into yours. You can’t help but laugh as she kisses you while you both have crackers and jam in your mouths and you feel Alcina smile into the kiss. She places both hands on either side of you on the counter, caging you in and continues to kiss all over your face, jaw and neck. In a fit of laughter, you try to lean back but she wraps her arms around you and pulls you to the edge, her hips slotting perfectly between your legs.

By the time her kisses come to a stop, the two of you are giggling like teenagers and you wrap your arms around her neck as you nuzzle into each other. When you pull back, you still have smiles plastered across your faces and you see the sparkle in Alcina’s eyes. When you’re this close to her, you can really see the crows feet in the corners of her eyes and the delicate smile lines that line her perfectly plump lips. 

Your heart stutters in your chest at the way she looks at you so lovingly. It still amazes you that you were able to melt the heart of the self-proclaimed Ice Queen. There was a time where you weren’t sure if you were ever going to get past the layers and layers of walls she had built up over the years before you met. It took time and patience, but she slowly let her walls come down brick by brick. There were a few times where you thought you were never going to see the real her and you debated on ending the relationship. Alcina always seemed to know when you were reaching that breaking point and even though it was hard and wildly uncomfortable, she tore down a few more walls and let you further in. She showed you the scared girl underneath that cold exterior. The girl that was terrified of having her heart broken again, each time you saw past another wall you melted for her.

There was one time where you were literally walking out the door after an argument over her keeping you at arms length. The only thing that stopped you was the way her voice cracked when she called after you. When you turned around you saw her lips trembling and tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. That night she broke through the rest of her walls and let you completely in. She told you things she’s never told anyone else before. Told you about her childhood, her tumultuous relationship with her family, how they tried to marry her off just to get rid of her. She poured her heart out to you and you knew then and there that no matter what else happened, you were going to be the one that protected her fragile heart from then on.

“What?” Alcina asks as she stares back into your eyes.

“Nothing.” You say as you shake your head. “I just love you so much, Alcina.”

“Și eu te iubesc atât de mult, draga mea.” 

(I love you so much too, my darling)

Alcina takes your wine glass from your hand and sets it down next to hers on the counter. Before you can protest she silences you with a kiss. It starts out soft and slow, but before you know it your kisses become more passionate, more frenzied. Her hands slide from your hips to underneath your ass and you grab the hair at the back of her head with one hand and hook your other arm around her neck.

In one swift movement, Alcina lifts you off of the counter and you squeal into her lips. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around her waist. She carries you up the stairs as if you weigh nothing, and heads into the bedroom. Often times when the two of you get to this stage, since it’s not the first time she’s carried you into the bedroom, Alcina will unceremoniously toss you onto the bed and either pounce on you, or torture you by making you wait. As you brace yourself to be tossed, you’re surprised when her grip on you tightens and she gently lays you down, allowing some, but not all, of her weight to rest on top of you.

Alcina looks at you in the most tender way. Her eyes take in every detail of your face and you can’t help but do the same, admiring her naturally long eyelashes, the blues and grays that swirl in her irises, and her lipstick-free lips that look all too kissable. She brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face before cupping your cheek and capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss. The kiss intensifies when you feel her lick against your lips and you eagerly let her in. More of her weight settles on top of you when you pull her closer, her hips slotted perfectly between your legs. As you’re reveling in the feeling of her on top of you, Alcina takes you by surprise by taking your bottom lip between her lips and sucking on it, drawing out a moan from your lips. She nips at it before letting it go and dives in for a hungrier kiss. You can’t help but roll your hips into her as she claims your mouth, and she groans into the kiss, rolling her hips into you in response. If she was wearing her strap right now she’d be buried to the hilt and the thought sends a shiver down your spine.

Chuckling at feeling you shiver, she rolls her hips into you again and again, a little harder each time. You desperately try to grind into her but there just isn’t enough friction at this angle and you let out a pitiful whine before you can stop yourself. Alcina smiles into the kiss and slows down before pulling away. She rubs her thumb across your eyebrows, softening the furrow that developed between them once she stopped kissing you.

“Do you want your present now, sweet girl?” She asks as her fingers dance across your skin.

“Mhm.” You hum, nodding at her with a smile. 

“As you wish. There are just a few things that need to be done before you get your present.”

“Like what?”

“Well, first things first, this,” she says, tugging at your sweatshirt. “Needs to go.”

Alcina sits back on her heels, giving you space to sit up. Her hands slide under your sweatshirt, letting out a purr when she feels bare skin underneath her fingertips. 

“Nothing underneath? Today must be my lucky day.” She teases.

She helps you pull your sweatshirt up, her hands stopping at the sides of your ribs. You pull it over your head and toss it onto the floor. She guides you to lay back down, each of her hands palming a breast as you fall back into the mattress. Cold fingers send a chill down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin and your nipples to harden at the touch. Alcina gropes and massages them before squeezing one and dragging her tongue across a hardened peak. A gasp of surprise escapes from your lips and you hum and roll your hips as she mirrors the action on the other side.

Alcina peppers your chest with kisses and small bites, soothing over each sting with her tongue. Once she is satisfied with the marks she left, her fingers hook into the waistline of your sweatpants.

“Next, these need to go as well. May I?”

Your hips roll at the question and you nod your head, not wanting to let her hear the desperation in your voice.

Alcina lets out a tsk.

“Use your words.” She reprimands.

“Yes, god, take them off!”

“Good girl.” She says with a chuckle and she begins to pull your sweatpants down your legs.

Her eyes glow with lust as she pulls them off, realizing you’re bare underneath those as well. 

“And no panties either?” She hums. “You spoil me, draga.”

Your sweatpants are cast away, landing somewhere on the bedroom floor and immediately forgotten about. Alcina takes a moment to admire you sprawled out, naked on the bed before her. A faint flush develops on your cheeks and across your chest as her eyes roam over every inch of your body. 

“Doamne, ești uluitor.” She whispers to herself.

(“God, you are breathtaking.”)

Even though you’re not sure exactly what it was that she said, you feel your flush deepen and you instinctively cover your face with your hands, a sudden bout of shyness overtaking you.

“No, no, don’t hide.” You can hear the smile in her voice as she takes your hands and pulls them from your face, holding them at your sides but not restraining you. “Let me see you, draga.”

You open your eyes to see her gray-blue eyes staring back at you and you can’t help but smile up at her.

“You are so beautiful, my love.” Alcina says before capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

The kiss doesn’t last long before Alcina pulls away and sits back up. Her hands slide down the hourglass of your waist and down your thighs, coming to a rest at your knees.

“Now, there’s one last thing that needs to happen before you get your present, my sweet girl.”

“What?”

Alcina spreads your legs apart, opening you up wide for her.

“I need you absolutely soaked for what I have planned next.” She says as she drags the back of her knuckles up your already dripping slit, just barely nudging your clit. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You pant. Her thumb brushes over your clit a few times before slowly circling it. “Fuck, yes, I can.” You moan.

“That’s my good girl.” Alcina says before settling herself between your legs.

She teases your clit with her fingers for a few more seconds and just before you become too impatient, she holds you by the back of your knees, spreads your legs wide, and licks a broad strip up your cunt, flicking your clit with her tongue. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a guttural moan as she repeats the motion over and over again. Just as your legs begin to tremble, Alcina pulls away and removes one hand from your leg. Looking up at her, you see her lips, nose and chin glistening with your arousal and she sucks two of her fingers into her mouth, her eyes never once leaving yours. Heat pools in your belly when she releases her fingers with a pop and they disappear below her. Without taking her eyes off of you, she effortlessly slips them into you. You’re the one who breaks eye contact when she pushes them deep into your pussy and curls them into that spongy spot that makes you see stars.

With your eyes rolling into the back of your head, Alcina nips and licks the inside of your thigh as she gently massages that sweet spot inside. It’s enough to have you moaning her name, but not quite enough to get you where you so desperately want her to take you to. Alcina senses your growing frustration and gently laps at your clit, adding even more pleasure to your body. You don’t feel yourself getting close until she takes the hardened nub between her lips and sucks at it, occasionally flicking her tongue over it. At the first spark of arousal that shoots up your spine, you cry out as your hands grab at Alcina’s head, burying your fingers into her hair.

Just as you’re about to get to the edge, Alcina pulls her fingers out and releases your clit from between her lips. A pathetic whimper leaves your lips and you look down at her in disbelief.

“What-”

“Patience, draga, you can’t come yet.”

“Why not?” You whine.

“Because I said so. Now be a good girl and spread your legs wide. You can take more of me, can’t you, draga?”

“Yes, fuck, please. Fill me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, draga.” She says with a dark chuckle.

Before you can react, Alcina slides three fingers into your cunt and sets a near brutal pace. You collapse back onto the bed with a cry as she fucks you harder and harder. Your legs tremble around her and just as you’re about to reach your peak again, she slows down, taking your impending orgasm with her.

“Fuck!” You cry. “Why?!”

“I already told you, I’m just getting you ready for what’s to come, my love. Patience.”

She thrusts her fingers in and out of you, keeping you right on the precipice of bliss until she’s satisfied with how drenched and stretched out you are. 

After edging you once more, Alcina pulls away all together and sits back up.

“I think you’re ready for your present now, don’t you think?”

“God yes, please!”

“Is my sweet girl's tight cunt all wet and stretched out for me?” She teases as she hovers over you.

“Yes, fuck.” You breathe.

Alcina places a soft kiss on your lips and moves off of the bed and towards the walk-in closet.

“I’ll be back in a second.”

You wait, impatiently, for Alcina to return and when she does, she’s holding a double ended strap-on dildo in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other and a towel slung over her shoulder. The dildo is purple and quite large, both in length and girth; it’s easily one of the biggest toys you own. Now you get why Alcina needed you so stretched and wet.

She sees the excitement in your eyes as she makes her way towards the bed and lets out a low chuckle.

“Are you excited about your present, draga?”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, all you can do is mumble “mhm” and nod your head; your eyes never straying from the toy in her hand. Your legs unconsciously open wider for her as she approaches.

Alcina kneels in front of you on the bed and guides you to lay back down before popping open the lube. She coats her end in the lube and makes a show of using two fingers to spread her lips wide. You can already see how wet she is and that her clit is enlarged and puffy. It takes all of your self control to stay where you are and not pounce on her and bury your tongue inside of her. Noticing the look in your eyes, Alcina teases you by slowly rubbing the toy between her lips, letting out tiny gasps as she nudges her clit with the tip. Just as you feel yourself begin to clench around nothing, Alcina slides the toy into her cunt and throws her head back, letting out a satisfied moan.

When she looks back down at you, her irises are all but swallowed by her dilated pupils. Wordlessly, she pops open the lube cap again and this time coats your end in it. You think she’s going to wipe the excess off on the towel but instead, she cups your soaked pussy and spreads the remaining lube all over you. She takes you by surprise when she shoves three fingers deep into you again, making you cry out in pleasure. After a few twists and thrusts, she pulls them out and begins stroking the cock jutting out from between her legs.

“Are you ready, sweet girl?”

“Yes, fuck, please. I need it.”

Alcina lets out a chuckle. “We haven’t even started and you’re already begging for my cock? Such a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You whine.

She takes a moment to admire how turned on and eager you are, her eyes focused on your throbbing pussy and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Look at you, so wet and clenching around nothing already. Since you’re so desperate, you’re going to be a good girl and take mommy’s whole cock. That’s fine with you, isn’t it, draga?”

“Yes! Please, please give it to me. I’ve been so good.” You let out a whine as Alcina rubs the head of the purple strap up and down your drenched slit, just barely brushing over your clit.

“You have been a good girl for me tonight, so I won’t tease you too badly. Let me get you a little more stretched before I fuck you into the mattress. Is that alright, sweet girl?” She asks as she slowly pushes the head between your lips and past the first ring of muscle. It's deep enough for you to clench around, but not enough to get any pleasure from, just the sensation of the head stretching you out.

You whine and try to rock your hips to get her deeper, but Alcina grabs your legs underneath your knees and spreads you wide, holding you in place.

“You’ve been such a good girl this far, don’t make me punish you this early.”

All you can do is whine in response and try to not squirm on the bed. Finally, Alcina decides to stop teasing you and without warning, sinks the entire length of the strap into you and you let out a strangled cry.

“Fuck, I stretched you out so nicely and you’re still so tight.” She says as her eyes flutter from the pleasure she’s receiving from her end of the strap.

Alcina pulls out and thrusts back into you again, she does this a few more times before she begins to lose her composure and she pushes your knees so far backwards they’re practically at your ears. At this angle, with you so spread, Alcina is able to pull out and fuck you deeper and harder as she sets a pace that causes you to cry out with each thrust.

“Good girl.” She purrs. “Look at you, taking my cock so perfectly. God, I love all of the little noises you make when I fuck you.”

Just as you feel like your orgasm is about to build, Alcina switches her pace and bottoms you out, with her hips flush against you and begins to grind the cock deep into your pussy. A surprised gasp escapes your lips and you whimper each time she grinds into you.

“Oh fuck! Alcina!”

“I know baby, it feels so good doesn’t it? That’s it, keep taking it.”

Outside, the storm begins to pick up. The room is occasionally lit up by the lightning cracking across the sky and the thunder continues to shake the house. But with Alcina being buried so deep inside of you, neither of you give it any attention.

The room is filled with the sounds of both of your moans and cries and the sound of her hips slamming into you over and over again. Alcina lets go of your legs and you wrap them around her, keeping her close. Your arms wrap around her neck and you pull her down into a sloppy kiss of clashing teeth, tongues and noses. She bites down on your lower lip, nearly breaking the skin and you rake your nails down her back as she rails into you over and over again. She cries out from the mixture of pleasure and pain from your nails. One of her hands wraps around your neck, just the way you like it, and she adds a slight amount of pressure to the sides.

“You take my big cock so well. Look at you, such a perfect little fuck toy for mommy, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck.” You whine as your eyes roll back.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me, I can’t wait to make you explode.” She says with what sounds like renewed determination as she switches her strokes to long, hard ones.

The new pattern causes you to arch your back into her, letting out a guttural moan. Her relentless pounding causes your orgasm to build once more, this time much more quickly. As Alcina feels you begin to clench harder and tense around her, she lets out a dark chuckle.

“You’re so close already, I can feel how hard you’re clenching. You want to come so badly, don’t you, my sweet girl?” All you’re able to muster is a whimper and a slight head nod. “Tell me, tell me how badly you want to come.”

“So fucking bad. Please, please don’t fucking stop.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’m nowhere near done with you, draga. Especially not before you give me what I want.”

Knowing what she means, you let out a whine and tightly grasp at the hair on the back of her head. Alcina reaches between your bodies and her thrusts falter for just a moment. Before you can even complain, the cock begins to vibrate inside of you and you cry out for her.

“That’s it, draga, that’s it. Don’t fight it, give it to me my love.” She says in an unexpectedly soft tone, especially given how hard she’s fucking you; but you’re too far gone to really notice.

After a few hard thrusts you’re right on the edge and you can hear how wet you are each time she slams into you.

“Fuck, Alci, fuck, please, please, make me, I’m gonna-”

Before you can finish your ramblings, your orgasm hits you like a bus. Your back arches off of the bed and your eyes roll to the back of your head. A scream rips through your vocal cords as the intense pleasure takes over your body. As Alcina fucks you through it, you feel a rush of liquid between the two of you. Your orgasm gets splattered across your thighs and lower stomach as Alcina’s thrusts continue until your body collapses back onto the bed. She slows her pace and comes to a stop, the strap still nestled deep inside of you as you clench around it while your body trembles from the intensity of your orgasm.

Alcina buries her face into your neck and you feel her panting against you as she catches her breath. When you finally come back into your body, because you’re pretty fucking sure you soul was separated from you for a few minutes, you run your fingers through Alcina’s hair and hold her close.

“Holy shit.” You pant. “That was crazy.”

“That was so fucking hot.” Alcina mumbles into your neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you squirt that much before, we’re fucking drenched.”

You let out a breathy chuckle and Alcina presses a kiss into your skin. She sits up and slowly pulls out of you and you whine from the loss.

“Oh hush, don’t think I’m done with you just yet.” She says with a devious smile. “I still have to come.”

“How you didn’t during that is actually insane.”

“I came close a few times, but that’s not how I want you when I do. And as you well know, I usually get what I want.” 

You can’t help but laugh at her arrogance. Does she usually get what she wants? Of course she does. But you have her wrapped so tightly around your finger that more often than not, you get what you want too. 

“Oh? Then how do you want me?”

“Ready for more already?” She asks with an arched brow.

“I will be, I just need a minute.”

Alcina leans down and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Your tongues dance around each other as your hands wander across your bodies. After a couple of minutes, Alcina pulls away and has you flip onto your stomach. She begins to pull your hips up and you get up onto all fours. Before you can get comfortable, you feel Alcina’s strong grip on the back of your head as she pushes you down onto the pillows, face down, ass up.

“Just like that.” She says as she holds your head down and spreads your legs wider.

Even though you’re drenched, Alcina still pops open the lube and coats the toy in it again. Both of you agree, there’s never such a thing as too much lube. Plus, the last thing she wants is to subject you to any kind of friction burn. The two of you have been down that road before and even though it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, it definitely put a damper on the night and kept you out of commission for a couple of days.

She rubs the toy against you a couple of times before slipping it back in. A few slow, long, deep thrusts have you mewling beneath her and you hear her smirk with pride at how easily she can unravel you.

“For my final gift to you tonight,” She says as she keeps her thrusts steady. “You can come as many times as you want.” You let out a satisfied moan that turns into a cry as she thrusts hard into you. “Don’t get too excited, there is a catch.” She says as she returns to her slower pace. “You can come as many times as you want, but I won’t stop until I come. Alright?”

You know if you used your safe word she would stop in an instant. As torturous as the orgasms she forces upon you can be, they’re also other-worldly and there’s definitely a part of you that never wants them to stop, even if you’re a trembling, overstimulated mess.

Eager for her to start, you whine a “mhm” and nod your head. A sharp smack lands on your ass and you yelp both from the surprise and the sting.

“Use your words. Do you understand me?” She says as her tone darkens and the grip on your hair tightens to the point of almost being painful.

“Yes! I can come over and over again and you won’t stop until you come.”

Another sharp slap meets your ass and Alcina immediately soothes it by running her hand over the mark that is definitely starting to develop.

“Good girl. Now be a good little slut and take my cock like the perfect little toy you are.”

Alcina immediately sets a brutal pace, slamming her hips into your ass over and over again. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t have been able to keep the moans and whimpers from slipping through your lips. The grunts coming from behind you as Alcina fucks you spurs you on and you rock back into each thrust, causing her to let out a groan.

“Fuck, good girl.” She says, smacking your ass again. “I love your cunt, taking my cock so perfectly.”

The first orgasm hits you hard and you cry out as you tremble underneath her. It came faster than you were expecting but you’re too blissed out to care that this will inevitably be the first of many orgasms in this position.

Alcina’s pace doesn’t falter or slow down as you come and you whine from the slight overstimulation.

“I told you, draga, I’m not stopping until I come.” She says between pants.

The next two orgasms come one right after the other and you cry out while you shake underneath her. Alcina tightens the grip on your hair and pushes you harder into the mattress while she digs her fingers so hard into your hip there’s no way there won’t be small bruises there later tonight.

You lost count of how many times she made you come by the time you feel yourself losing steam. Her thrusts begin to falter just a bit, signaling she’s getting close. Cracking open one of your eyes, you see Alcina in your peripheral. Her eyes are screwed shut and her lip is caught between her bottom teeth. She tries to keep quiet but you can still hear the small moans and whimpers that escape from her as she gets closer to her release.

With a renewed determination, you slam your hips back into each of her thrusts and she lets out a groan of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, draga, good girl. God, yes!” She says as she throws her head back.

Alcina stops holding back her moans and her thrusts start to lose their rhythm, her low moans and whimpers get higher and higher the closer she gets to her release.

After one high-pitched moan, you can feel the hand in your hair begin to tremble and she releases her grip. Alcina falls forward until there isn’t an inch of room between your bodies, catching herself on her hands that landed on either side of you. She buries her face into your neck and sinks the strap deep into you before grinding down. The closer she gets, the sweeter her moans are when she cries into your skin. With her forehead resting against your cheek, you sink your fingers into her tousled hair, holding her against you.

“Baby, I - I’m gonna -” she whimpers softly into you. “Oh, oh! Oh fuck!”

Her body trembles on top of you and as she fucks herself through her orgasm crying out your name. You hit your peak once more and try to grind back into her as much as you can with her laying on top of you. Your bodies tremble in overstimulation as you both slow down, loud moans and cries softening into quiet whimpers and panting breaths.

The two of you lay there for a couple of minutes as you catch your breaths and come down from your highs.

“I just need a moment and then I’ll get off of you. I’m sorry, I must be crushing you.” She says softly. You can hear the vulnerability in her voice that she lets through only when she’s with you in the privacy of your bedroom.

For someone who is so strong and confident in herself and her body, Alcina also holds many insecurities about her size. She’s learned to accept and embrace the space she takes up, but in quieter moments, she’s opened up about how there are days she hates feeling like a giant. Especially when you’re so small compared to her, with nearly a foot in height difference between the two of you, she often worries about putting all of her weight on you, or afraid she’s going to do something that will hurt you.

She moves to get up and the hold you have on her hair tightens, keeping her against you.

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I like the feeling of your weight on me. It makes me feel safe.” You quietly admit.

“Are you just saying that?”

“Nuh-uh.” You hum. “I promise. I always feel so well protected by you, but when you’re on top of me like this, I feel like nothing in the world can hurt me.” You say as you do your best to nuzzle into her.

It takes a few moments of an inner battle inside of Alcina before you feel her relax, the rest of her weight settling on top of you. After a quick wiggle to adjust so you can breathe, you let out a content sigh and you scratch at your scalp. Alcina snakes her hands underneath you and holds you tight.

You feel something wet on your shoulder just as you hear Alcina sniffle above you.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice is thick and you try to turn your head towards her as much as you can.

Alcina shakes her head and takes a quivering breath in.

“I’m alright.”

“Baby why are you crying?” This time you try to turn your body a little to get a better look at her but she keeps you pinned in place.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“For what, honey?”

“For loving me. All of me. You have no idea how much I treasure you.”

“Can I look at you?” You ask.

Alcina nods her head and slowly pushes herself off of you before sliding out the toy still buried in you. As you roll over, Alcina removes her end of the you and tosses it onto the towel at the end of the bed. Stretching your arms out towards her, Alcina crawls into them and you place a kiss at the top of her head, holding her tight.

She sniffles again and you pull back from her and place your knuckles under her chin, raising her gaze to look up at you, as she’s done to you countless times.

“I love you so much. Every inch of you. Every part of you, even the parts you don’t like about yourself, I love them and I always will.”

Looking into her gorgeous eyes, she looks up at you innocently. Alcina may be a lot of woman, but in moments like this you see the young girl she keeps buried inside of her. With all six foot three of her curled into you, you can’t help but cuddle her like she’s your size.

Alcina slides her hand into your hair and pulls you into a deep kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made up for when words failed. The kind that conveyed so much love it made your heart nearly burst.

When your lips part you wipe the trail her tears left behind and she lets out a huff before sitting up and wiping her eyes.

“Ugh, well this wasn’t part of the plan!”

You let out a chuckle while rubbing your hands over her thighs.

“Maybe not, but I do love when you’re soft.” Alcina rolls her eyes at you. “What? I love seeing the soft side of my big, bad, intimidating girlfriend.” You say as you wrap your arms around her waist and rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her. 

Alcina playfully rolls her eyes at you before wrapping her arms around you and pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let out a surprised squeal and laugh as she pulls you down.

“I’ll show you big, bad, and intimidating.” She says, flippantly snapping her teeth at you.

“Oh no, I’m so scared!” You say with almost too much sarcasm in your voice as you laugh.

Alcina scoffs at you.

“Don’t be fresh!” She says as she goes to tickle you.

“No! No, no, no!” You yelp, trying to squirm away from her.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere!”

The two of you end up in a pile of limbs and laughter before she finally gives up on tickling you. The drastic shift of moods tonight has you absolutely wiped but Alcina convinces you to shower with her before going to sleep.

Once you’re both done and ready for bed, you notice the rain has finally stopped and all you hear outside is the sound of frogs croaking in the distance. Alcina holds you against her and kisses your forehead.

“I truly am sorry your plans got rained out today, draga.” She says. “Perhaps we can reschedule what you had planned for next weekend?”

“You really want to do that?”

“Of course I do! You put so much time and effort into it. All of the little details you decided to add, like my favorite foods or my favorite museum, it means so much to me that you wanted to do all of those things with me for our anniversary.”

“Well, yeah. I have fun when you have fun. Besides, it’s not like I get many opportunities to woo you.” You say with a smirk.

Alcina laughs and kisses the side of your head.

“We shall have to remedy that, then.” She puts her fingers under your chin and guides you to look up at her. “Happy anniversary, draga mea. Ai toată inima mea. Te iubesc atât de mult îngerul meu.” (You have my whole heart. I love you so much my angel).

“Happy anniversary, Alcina. I love you.”

[freelancearsonist]

Some Fools Fool Themselves

➔ Javier Peña x fem!Reader - 2.7k

➔ You were meant to be a mission—an insider that Javi could wring information from on some of the biggest names in the trade. It didn’t go to plan, but maybe that’s not so bad.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (m receiving), throatfucking, handjobs, creampie, spanish dirty talk (both javi and reader - translations in footnotes), reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader wears a bikini, smoking/nicotine use, cheating (reader is married this is the mob wife fic you all asked for), kind of angsty but mostly just porn with the slightest sprinkling of plot for ✨flavor✨ [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

The bright, glaring yellow waves of sunlight reflect off the surface of lapping pool water and cast it in a nearly green light. Javi’s dark eyes are transfixed on it through his polarized sunglasses as he marinates in the beating hot Colombian summer sun.

Javier has never questioned his dutiful determination before. He’s never wondered if the ends actually do justify the means. He’s been in the palm of Uncle Sam’s hand for so long that the lines have become blurry—that the consideration of moral superiority doesn’t cross his mind anymore. Not that it ever really has; that’s why he’s so well-suited for the job he’s in. He follows his orders, no matter the cost.

And that’s why you pose such an issue to him. You make him question everything. Every move he’s made, every goal he’s been so set on accomplishing for so many years. If he sends this shiny-sinister iceberg of a drug hierarchy tumbling down the way he’s always believed it should, you’ll be buried in the debris. And maybe, at first, that knowledge didn’t bother him. Maybe he even believed that you deserved that—to be crushed by the weight of your own empire.

If he did, he certainly doesn’t anymore—and it’s killing him.

He’s never been so shaken and unsure. Maybe that’s why the water has caught his eyes—it’s a visual representation of how he feels. Rippling and indecisive, desperate to cling to you yet eager to let you go just like the droplets that part from your form as you lift yourself onto the concrete lip of the pool.

You stride toward him with slow movements, and the dilemma vanishes completely from his mind.

”You look stressed,” you murmur as you kneel beside the lounger he’s sprawled himself out on and take his hand. “What’s wrong?”

”Just tired,” he hums in response. He runs the rough pad of his thumb over the back of your hand in an unconscious effort to sooth your worry over him. “Long night at work.”

You don’t know what he actually does—as far as you’re concerned, he’s just a lowly janitor at the embassy. You can imagine that such menial labor is thoroughly exhausting, though, and you’re determined to help ease his sore muscles.

”Flip over,” you instruct—and like a good agent, he follows orders.

For fingers that he’s noted time and time again are so much daintier than his own, they work wonders on his sore muscles. They work with skill and intuition, magnetically drawn to the worst knots in his back. The pressure is perfect, and it has him practically drooling.

When those skilled fingers of yours hook into the waistband of his swim trunks and start tugging them down, he doesn’t even think of resisting.

You’ve learned to do something that no one and nothing else has managed to accomplish in all his lifetime—you quiet his swirling mind. There’s nothing beyond the bubble of you and him. Nothing to worry about, nothing to accomplish. No ulterior motives to his presence here, shirtless and lounging like he owns the place. Like this isn’t your husband’s house that he’s supposed to be searching for intel. 

You coax him to roll over again onto his back. He can’t miss the heat of your gaze—the way your eyes shamelessly skirt down the broad expanse of his torso to take in the softly swelling length of his cock. He knows you relish in these moments—when all you have to do is look at him to get him going. You’re proud of yourself for it, for the effect you have on him.

It’s easy to forget, when you have him completely at your mercy like this, that you’re just as weak for him as he is for you.

”Missed you,” you mumble into his lips as you straddle his lap. 

He takes your hips in his steady grip—guides the pace as you rock against him. “It’s only been a couple days.”

”I know,” you whisper. You grind down harder than he means to allow you, drawing a deep groan from his diaphragm. “Still missed you.”

And then, because he finds it nearly impossible to lie to you: “I missed you too.”

He licks eagerly into your mouth before you can say anything, and you accept his tongue without complaint. Your fingers now move to his face, practically clawing in desperation to pull him closer and deepen the already heated kiss.

It’s been nearly a year of him hanging around here, playing his role in the act of your affair. He has you figured out to the most minute details—he knows all your wants, all your needs. He knows the exact sounds that he can draw from you when he sucks over the pulse point on your neck: a squeal as you begrudgingly push him away and mumble something about not leaving marks. He smirks and moves on to the next spot, knowing that you can’t resist for long. Knowing that you don’t even want to in the first place.

He knows that you’re eager for him in the same way he is for you—to please, to take care of. He sees it in action when you reach down and wrap your fingers around his length; when you let out a little breath at the way your fingers can’t quite fit all the way around his girth. You act surprised every time, no matter how many times he finds you in his lap like this. And he loves it—loves the way you practically soak through your little bikini bottoms at just the feel of him in your hand. 

“That’s it, bebita,” he murmurs close to your ear. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You hum your appreciation at his words, a silent thank you in the twist of your wrist and the tightening of your grip. It makes his hips jump, cock throbbing under your touch as he tries to fight your slow pace in favor of more intense stimulation. But you aren’t having it—you pin his thighs down with your weight so you can languish in torturing him.

He actually growls as your pace slows—a deep, rumbling, animalistic sound that goes straight to your panties. His restraint is slipping second by second the longer you tease him. He’s throbbing, aching in your grip; he would be embarrassed over how quickly you’ve reduced him to such a primal state if he had any blood left in his brain.

”Dámelo.” There’s nothing pleading or polite about his tone. This is a command, an instruction; an order you don’t dare disobey.

You pull away quickly, but you’re back before he can even process your absence. You’ve shifted to the end of the lounger, face deliciously close to where he’s aching to feel you.

”Relax, Javi,” you hum pleasantly. “Déjame cuidar de ti.”

”Then don’t be a fucking tease.” There’s an evident smirk in his tone, and it makes you smile as you slowly trail your tongue along his length, from the seam of his balls up to swirl around the thick, leaking tip of him.

He grunts as your lips seal around him, one thick-fingered hand coming down to gently urge you deeper. He’s not shy of being greedy with you; he knows how much you love the authoritarianism of his dominance. To let go of your mind and let him take the reigns. As much as you love to play at a power struggle, this is what you want in the end. To be controlled, to be guided. To take exactly what he gives you, exactly the way he gives it to you.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he groans with a buck of his hips that pushes him against the back of your throat. “Take it all.”

And always eager to please, you try your best to do exactly that. You open your throat as much as possible to accommodate his girth and do your best to tamp down the gag reflex that he’s bullying awake. Your nails dig into the meat of his hips as you let him guide you deeper, further—he’ll admire the little crescent moon marks later, alone in his government-issue apartment.

His unoccupied hand slips down the back of your neck and tugs at the string of your bikini top. He doesn’t get quite the view he wants with you choking on his cock, but reaching down to gently pinch and tug at your nipples is enough for him—especially with the little moans and vibrations you let out around his cock.

He tugs your hair a little harshly to pull you off of him when the pleasure compounds. You whine at the loss of his taste, and he groans at the shiny spit that links your swollen lips to his cock.

His breathless moan goes straight to your neglected cunt and makes you squirm with arousal. “Shit, sweetheart. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ dream.”

You shake your head and muster every ounce of seduction your lust-addled brain can generate as you trail open-mouthed kisses over his clenched thighs. “I’m real, Javi. And I really want you.”

Normally, he would want to get his hands on you. He would want to press his fingers deep into your cunt and languish in the embarrassing squelch of your arousal as he works you open for him. He would want to pull orgasm after orgasm from you until the pleasure is so blinding that you can do nothing but slump into his arms and take it. But you’re impatient today; it’s been more than a week since you last saw him, and that means it’s been more than a week since you felt anything remotely pleasurable. Your husband didn’t marry you for love, or even lust—he married you for convenience, for security. For cover to keep up appearances. 

Maybe Javi’s been taking advantage of that all this time—how deeply you crave the connection that you’re constantly deprived of. Maybe he should call this off now, before he takes anymore than he already has from you.

But he’s not selfless. He has his flaws, and his biggest one is that he’s irreversibly fallen in love with you. He craves that connection just as deeply as you do.

Your desperation bleeds into his veins and makes him dizzy with arousal. He nods as his throat bobs around a deep gulp. “Alright. Dealer’s choice.”

You only have to consider for a moment before you flip in his lap, bracing yourself forward on your arms in between his legs with your ass pressed snuggly against his cock. You grind lightly against him, and it’s almost enough to make him lose his head.

But just as quickly as his sensible thought leaves, it’s right back where it belongs. He grabs your hips harder than he should to drag you against his solid length and relishes in the deep moan you emit.

”Take what you need, baby,” is all the encouragement you need from him. You take him into your hand again and rise up onto your knees so you can tease his spit-soaked tip against your entrance. You look over your shoulder so you can see his reaction as you trace him around your slit; you relish in the hard set of his jaw, the clenched teeth that you can see through his parted lips as he fights the urge to slam you down hard onto him. He’d only be feeding into the bit—he knows your sole mission is to make him lose his composure. 

But it’s so hard not to when you’re looking at him like this—like he holds your very soul in the palm of his hand. The trust, the admiration, in your gaze is nearly enough to make him choke.

Thankfully, you choose this exact moment to sink down the length of him.

The sheer size of him is overwhelming on a normal day, and even more so today when you’ve not had your usual preparation. He bullies his way deep enough to fill your chest, stretching you to your very limit and maybe even past it.

But he’s prepared for it, for how staggering he can feel at first thrust. He grounds you to him with heavy hands on your hips and fits you snug against him. He whispers up at you, little encouragements and sweet nothings. His praise rings sweet and clear as he tells you how good you feel, how warm, how tight, how wet. He basks in the feeling of you soaking him all the way to the very base—in the feeling of your sweet juices dripping down him to soak the coarse patch of hair above his cock.

You pause when you feel his tip kissing your cervix, moaning in tandem with Javi at the way he twitches within your snug walls. It’s like the first time every single time you take him—you wonder if that’s what keeps him coming back for more. You’ve never heard him say he loves you, but you could believe it when you’re like this; when he starts rocking up into you with the sole intention of finding that one little spot that’ll have you shaking and sobbing in his arms.

”You’ve got this, baby,” he grunts in reassurance. “You’re takin’ it so well, honey. Tan perfecto.”

The praise runs up your spine from where you’re connected with him and lodges itself in your brain—it plays on repeat while you start bouncing your hips in an effort to match his pace. It draws a deep, heady grunt from him and pulls him into action. One hand grabs a harsh handful of your ass while you spear yourself on his length, and the other hand slides up the curve of your waist to find a nipple to roll between his expert fingers.

It baffles you, his ability to multitask. When you’re like this—filled to the very brim—all you can focus on is the delicious friction of his cock dragging against every sweet spot inside you. But Javi has a precious ability to attend to as many erogenous zones as he can all at once—something you admire more than you can put into words. His ability to rip you apart is completely unrivaled.

There’s a desperate fury to his touch as his hand slides over your hip from your ass, wrapping around you to circle your clit. It’s harsh and fast—the exact pressure that makes you tremble and scream.

And you do; you come with a cry of his name, cunt clenching around him in a vice grip that almost makes it impossible to keep up the pace. But he tries anyway—anchors your hips in his large hands so he can thrust up into you through your high.

The lounger creaks dangerously beneath you, but the sound is lost to your ears when you’re so thoroughly blinded by your pleasure.

Within a few moments Javi follows you, growling deep in his diaphragm as he spills himself hot and thick into your soaked pussy. 

You don’t think it’s ever been this messy before. All you can focus on is the hot, sticky mess slipping down your thighs. Javi can tell that it’s uncomfortable for you, so he reaches down and grabs your discarded bikini top to wipe away as much as he can. You’ve got plenty of others—and even if you don’t, your husband will buy you a new one without question.

He discards it back on the burning concrete once he’s satisfied with his clean up job, then leans back on the lounger and grabs a cigarette from the open pack on the table next to him.

He tries not to smile too much when you stay in place and snuggle into his chest. He really wasn’t a cuddler before you—but now, all he wants is to feel your warmth and weight against him.

It’s not nearly long enough before you look up at him with your pretty eyes and say, ”He’ll be home soon.”

”I’d better beat it then.” He flicks the ash off of his cigarette and pushes himself slowly to his feet—finds his swim trunks discarded on the ground at the foot of the lounger.

”Hey?” He pauses, brow furrowing at how small and timid your voice sounds in just that one word. He’s never heard that quality to your tone before, and it worries him.

”Yeah?”

”Just… please come back sooner,” you mutter. “I missed you.”

Javier Peña is a weak, weak man within these walls. He smiles the softest smile he can muster and pulls you into his arms to press a gentle kiss to your hairline. For a moment, he forgets that you’re not really his. “Okay. I will, baby.”

And he means it, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

THE END

➔ Translations: bebita - baby dámelo - give it to me déjame cuidar de ti - let me take care of you tan perfecto - so perfect

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 title is from “love hurts” by nazareth

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[darling-i-read-it]

Please Don't Kill Me Mr. Ghostface!

Ethan Landry x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k 

Warnings: SCREAM 6 SPOILERS 

Very susceptible reader, Ethan’s reaction to Richies death, heavy insinuations to smut, faking the reader and Quinn's death, the slight cringe from scream movies dialogue <3, they literally have sex in the stab shrine room (when will it be my turn), (that is all skipped over), me being unsure of which ghostface was at which part of the movie. I have only seen Scream 6 once and was just going off what I remembered from it! So if things are wrong (timing, Ghostfaces, etc) then I’m sorry! 

Author’s Note: This one requires some suspension of belief lol. I don’t know HOW to justify the reader doing all these things except Ethan was cute and this is fiction <3 I hope you enjoy love!! Also I wasn’t 100% sure on if Ethan’s name was Landry or Bailey. I went with Landry (which I’m sure is fake but what we all know him as! So when I refer to the house under that name, I was torn lol)

Requested by anon, ooh ok so can i request ethan x reader where reader is in on the ghostface thing (but she’s not killing people she just knows about it) and like helps them with stuff (maybe with like faking quinn’s death and stuff like that idk) but also it’s somehow fluffy relationship stuff in there too lol (sorry it’s kinda all over the place😬)

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You were laying on the back on Ethan’s bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. His room was as familiar to you as your own was. You had practically grown up at the Landry’s home, going to school together for your entire lives and staying close to Ethan throughout it all. Once you had hit your senior year in high school, it seemed only fate the two of you would start to date.

You put down your phone with a gentle huff. Ethan was sitting in front of his computer, doing homework. You turned your head to face him, trying to telepathically ask for attention. As if he could read your mind, he spoke. 

“Give me five more minutes.” 

“I told you taking chemistry for your lab credit was dumb,” you said gently, wanting to sneak in an ‘I told you so’ but also not wanting to agitate him. He was brilliant but he couldn’t always grasp the concepts he had too. You suspected some sort of undiagnosed learning disorder but you were far from a doctor. You were just his best friend. 

“I don’t remember you being there when I picked classes,” he said quietly. You rolled your eyes. 

“I was there in spirit.” You grabbed your phone again, flipping onto your stomach. You opened it back up, looking past the screensaver of you and Ethan over the summer before, when you had been on vacation with his family. You reopened Instagram to continue your doom scroll. The first story you opened was that of a friend from school. 

You usually skipped through them, not even registering what they said, but paused at the large bolded letters over a black screen. 

Rip Richie <3 

You didn’t deserve to be caught up in that. 

You squinted, trying to place a Richie that you knew. The first that came to your mind was Ethan’s older brother but just as quickly as the thought came it left. It couldn’t have been him. He was with his girlfriend in Modesto or something. Plus, how would this rando in high school know before you and Ethan? You kept flicking through your friend's stories, confused. Someone had posted a blurry picture of some sort of a crime scene. It was clearly reposted over and over so the picture itself was almost lost. You squinted and then opened your google app.

“Okay I’m done,” Ethan said, shutting his laptop with triumph. “I’m gonna ace that test tomorrow.” He looked over your face and could read you with ease. Something was wrong - or at the very least, confusing. “What?” 

You googled Richies name. A flood of reports came up. Your lips parted in surprise as you looked up at Ethan. 

“What?” he repeated. Before you could explain, his phone rang. You both looked towards where it was resting on the bed beside you. You picked it up. A picture of his dads face was on the screen. 

“Oh God,” you whispered, unable to contain it. 

“What?!” He grabbed his phone and answered it quickly. You sat up, tossing your phone aside and getting off the bed. You knew right now that he was going to be grieving more than you. You had to be there for him. “Hello? Dad?” You stood beside him and watched as his face fell according to the muffled voice coming from the receiver. His eyes were laced with confusion and then a flash of pain. “What do you mean Richie-” He was cut off. 

There were a few more words and then his eyes went dead with emotion. You weren’t sure what to do so you stood beside him. He hung up the phone after a moment and then looked up at you. 

“Richie?” He nodded. His mouth was ajar, stunned. He threw his arms around you and you embraced each other as he stood up. “What happened?” you questioned. He was silent. You didn’t think you were going to get an answer until he spoke, quietly. 

“He was murdered.” 

-

“It’s actually kind of easy to rig the roommate system,” you muttered, sitting at a chair in front of your computer. The room behind you was filled with the remaining Landry’s. 

You turned around to the curious eyes. 

“So he’s in?” Wayne questioned. You nodded. 

“He is going to be Chads Meeks-Martin’s roommate,” you explained. He slapped you on the back in approval. You had always been on good terms with Wayne. He was the kind of dad who would ask if you had a boyfriend and then wink at his son after the question. He had been slightly overjoyed when Ethan told him you were dating. This came only after, he caught you and Ethan making out in his bedroom. It was mortifying but he was pretty okay about it. 

“Thanks kid.” 

Wayne was not on board with telling you about the trio of Ghostfaces he had planned but Ethan insisted. You had been there when he found out about Richie and you had been there through all of his hardships. 

“And you’re okay with coming around my place when we have to…you know…” Quinn made a gesture of slitting her own throat. “I mean, I need someone to drag my body out of there while my dad brings a new one.” 

You tried to ignore your moral dilemma to this. Ethan had promised you wouldn’t be implicated in any of this. But sometimes when Wayne looked at you during this you knew that you would go down with them if he went down. You were in on this now. You couldn’t exactly back out. 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Quinn smiled brightly. She was slightly too excited about this. Part of you still didn’t think it was actually going to happen. You couldn’t imagine Ethan actually killing anyone, even when his eyes lit up while talking about it. 

“For Richie,” Ethan promised, placing a hand on your back. You nodded, getting up and out of your seat. You gestured to the computer. 

“I didn’t think this is what I would be doing with my computer science classes,” you admitted. Ethan smiled gently at you, ever soft, even when planning people’s literal murders. 

“For some reason I feel like she’s gonna have no problem faking our deaths but is gonna have a major problem not getting to hang out with Ethan everyday,” Quinn teased. You rolled your eyes. You wouldn’t be able to see him when he’s hanging out with his new group of friends. At least, you would have to act like you didn’t know him as closely as you actually did. You were meant to be Quinn’s friend in all of this. 

Wayne was grabbing papers off the table, presumably planning. He actively tried to burn everything after memorizing it. You thought it was dumb of him to write anything else. 

“You gonna be okay?” Ethan questioned, jokingly. You rolled your eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be worried about me E. I’m not the clingy one in this relationship.” 

-

Sam and Tara shouldn’t have been as nice as they were. You recognized the hate in Sam's eyes, the paranoia that was justified. She was out, attempting to get Tara from a party she went to. You sat in the apartment with Quinn. She was working through some homework. You were still amazed she did all that during this planning. 

You walked around her room, making sure that all of the blood that needed to come out, would come out. You liked to double check. You blamed the nerves. 

“Is he supposed to be here soon?” Quinn questioned. You glanced back at her. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to talk that much over the phone.” You were standing on top of her bed. Everything was in place for when your Ghostface arrived. You hopped down. She turned away from her computer. 

“I know you’re not supposed to. I also know he can’t help himself.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Soon. Within the hour,” you admitted. She left her computer open, to show that she was ambushed. You and Quinn were supposed to die tonight at the hands of Ghostface. After Sam and Tara left, he would sneak in and find you both, unsuspecting and oh so helpless. By the time the sisters returned home, you would both be dead, or close to it.

You glanced down at your phone which was still open to your texts with Ethan. 

Can’t wait to stick something in you tonight ;) 

You rolled your eyes, flushed, and turned off your phone. 

Quinn helped you to make sure everything would look as realistic as possible. She explained, again, that they would blame Sam for all of this. Once she was dead and Richie’s death had been paid for, the two of you would be able to return to society as though Ghostface had held you captive. 

You were too far in to back out now. 

You heard the front door open. Quinn shut her blinds so that no one would see Ethan maskless. It had been a couple of weeks since the two of you had been alone (or alone with Quinn). He walked in through the front door, which Sam had left unlocked in her rush, and quickly made his way to Quinn’s room. 

You met him halfway, throwing your arms around him. His laughter was muffled by the voice changer. You took his mask off of him, eager to get your lips on his. You couldn’t believe you were really doing this. You couldn’t believe your boyfriend was going to fake kill you. 

He kissed you before you could get to it. 

“Alright alright love birds,” Quinn grumbled. “Get in the closet Ethan, the girls are gonna be back soon.” 

“Will you give us one sec?” Ethan questioned. Quinn looked like she wanted to argue but knew that an argument would just continue this further than she wanted to. You stood outside of her door, leaving it ajar. He looked around carefully to make sure no windows were in view. You were alone. 

You took the mask from him. You felt it in your fingers. You hadn’t seen him in the outfit yet. You had seen Quinn and you had seen his dad but you hadn’t ever seen him in the full get up. 

“You’re so scary,” you whispered, a buzz in your voice. “I would be terrified.” 

“Are you scared?” He put the mask up to his face. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. 

“What’s that part in the first Stab?” You thought for a minute, pressing yourself up against him. He looked at you with adoration in his eyes. He had missed you desperately. You had grown up together and spending a long time apart was proving to be more difficult than he thought it would be. “Please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel!” 

He chuckled lowly and clutched your face, leaning over to kiss you. You let him, relishing in his lips. Who knew when he would slip away again to see you. You would be sentenced to hiding until all of this was over. He placed his other hand on your side, holding you in his grasp. 

“Alright you two! Andele, andele!” Quinn opened up the door. He let you go. You grabbed the mask with both of your hands, rubbing it with your thumb. It was scary. It wouldn’t be hard to act the part. 

“You ready to die?” he asked but his voice was so gentle it was almost comical. It was like he was checking in on you. 

“Yes sir.” 

You put the mask over his face and then he was no longer your boyfriend. He was Ghostface. You slipped into Quinn’s room and prepared for your end. 

-

“Maybe I should’ve joined in on the killing,” you muttered, looking up at the ceiling. You were stuck in the Ghostface shrine that Richie had created. It was fun for a while, considering there was so much to look at, but there were only so many times the Stab movies were interesting to watch. Quinn came and went but mostly went. You weren’t sure where Wayne was keeping her otherwise. 

The burner phone in your pocket buzzed. You quickly reached for it. 

“Hello?” 

“Lemme up.” 

You knew that voice. You also knew he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near here until much later. This room wasn’t even supposed to be found yet. He hung up the phone. You walked to the elevator and pushed the button to lower it. It took a few minutes but you heard it come back after a while. 

Ethan practically threw the gate open. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He threw his arms around you. 

“Those people are really fucking annoying.” You scoffed. You were grateful for the company but not at the behest of his cover. “I missed you.”

“Does your dad know you’re here?”

“I’m supposed to be in a study group.” 

“Skipping study group to see me? Tsk, tsk Ethan.”

“Shush.” 

He dipped his head to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks. You melted into him. You tried to imagine what Quinn would’ve said if she was here. Probably some crude joke that all three of you knew to be true in the end. 

You pulled away from him and kissed his jaw as you did so. 

“Bet you’ve never made out in the Stab shrine before,” he questioned jokingly. You scoffed. 

“Alright Ethan,” you scoffed. “How are you feeling?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about feelings,” he whined. “I have to be back soon.” 

“You came all the way up here to have sex in front of all these dead peoples possessions?” He paused. He knew how that sounded. He also knew he had faked your death. He wasn’t super sure how to handle this one. 

“Yes?” 

You narrowed your eyes. 

“I’m not gonna see you before the whole big thing. You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Pillowtalk,” he breathed. You pretended to think. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

-

You sat up against the wall of the backrooms. You dragged him away from the prying eyes of all the killer memorabilia. 

“Are you scared?” you questioned. He had his head resting in your lap. He had to leave soon, you both knew it. 

“No,” he said quietly. “My dad will be there. He wouldn’t let us die when he’s with us.” You were brushing your fingers through his curls. You looked down at his big doe eyes, a faint smile on your face. 

“I’m scared.” 

“Don’t be.” 

“You can’t stop me,” you promised. He rolled his eyes. He hummed pleasantly from your touch. “You’ll be safe, yeah?”

“I’m going to kill someone.”

“I know. I know.” You tried not to think of it. You couldn’t imagine his eyes going black, killing people without remorse. Even when he was rushing at you with the knife, you knew he was just Ethan. “I still want you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe.” 

“You have to go.” He groaned. You pushed him gently so he would get off of you. You would be stuck here. Maybe you would have another Stab marathon. You were beginning to like even the shitty ones. Stab 3 started to become an odd comfort. “I’ll be here when you’re done.” 

“You promise?” 

“Yeah E. I promise.”

[inyourfantasyfanfics]

Hi! Can we have the crusaders reacting to their fem!s/o wearing lingerie for them, but she was really insecure to use it, because she doesn't have like, big boobs or bigs thighs and booty. And she tells them that and they tried to comfort by saying sweet words to her and maybe it leads to some smut? Maybe comforting her by touching her too?

(you can age up Kak and Jotaro :))

Yeah absolutely!

Warnings/disclaimers: slightly spicy, mentions of sex, part 4 jotaro and kak.

Lined for modesty hehe

Joseph JOSTAR!

He’s EXTATIC when he sees you all dressed up for him, you probably won’t have time to express any concerns before his hands and lips are on you. He’s so big compared to you and he LIVES for it

When you can finally get a word in and tell him that you feel super insecure it will almost completely fly over his head but the look on your face stabs his heart. And he will immediately reassure you by basically screaming praises and kissing every little insecurity until you smile at him.

He is going to take his time with you that night, to fully make sure you understand just how sexy you are to him.

Never doubt you have beauty around this man because he's going to disagree and he's going to be loud about it. He will learn from this moment and make it a point in the future to compliment you more. He's also going to buy you more cute skimpy outfits. He says it's like exposure therapy but really he just wants to see you in lingerie.

Jotaro Kujo

You can’t read his expression when he comes into your shared bedroom. You had just finished adjusting the fabric to your body when you spotted him. He was exactly on time. Everything with him was like clockwork. He doesn’t say a thing as he sets down his things and removes his coat, never breaking his dangerous eye contact.

You use this moment to almost apologize as if your standing in all your beautiful glory was something to ever apologize to him for. He does however let you voice your insecurities as his hands find your hips and he pulls your fronts together. He almost rolls his eyes when you say that you're lacking in ‘important areas’ He doesn’t roll his eyes though. For once, he deems this situation unfit for his attitude.

He backs you to the bed with a “Be quiet.” And presses his hips to yours. His arousal was apparent and it made you swallow hard. He will start debunking all of the insecurities you listed before he cornered you on the bed. His gaze was intimidating and his tone dangerous as if he was daring you to disagree. He would have none of it. He didn’t like hearing a pretty voice say negative things. It was pointless. What pissed him off the most was seeing you upset.

He made it his goal that night to make sure that the only thing that came out of your mouth was pretty little moans.

Avdol

He is very perceptive and probably noticed and had conversations about your insecurities before. This man worships the ground you walk on and he hates seeing you uncomfortable. So when he sees you in pretty lingerie he thinks maybe there's been a breakthrough and you are one step closer to seeing the goddess that you are.

It occurs to him that he's just been starting as if analyzing you when you start to apologize. This man gets on his knees before you and thanks you for blessing him. He’d start kissing your thighs and hands completely ignoring that you were apologizing for not being more.

His words haven't worked before his actions will have to suffice. Don’t get me wrong I think this man has an ultimate praise kink and will still spill sweet words about you through this whole ordeal but he may not justify any self-degrading comments with any sort of response

Polnareff

He’s a lot like Joseph in the way of pouncing now and asking questions later. Fully tackles you to the bed the moment his eyes land on you, hands are everywhere he just can’t help himself. Unlike Joseph, you won’t have time to express any concerns because he’s ravenous. You’d have to kick him to get him to listen.

This man is so confused because he thinks the world of you. But deep down he understands he has quite a bit of insecurity too whether he shows them or not is a different thing.

He’s the type of guy to be butt-ass naked and stop what he’s doing to find a guitar to serenade you. It’s awful and hurts your ears but the effort he put into it is astounding. He’s probably the one that shows you off the most out of the group. Having insecurities about your size around him is near impossible.

Kakyoin! (He’s alive and lives till a very old age ok!!!???) anyway this would be part 4 kak

The type to very happily watches you get into the lingerie without disturbing you. He’s very quiet so you sometimes are startled after realizing he’s in the room on a day-to-day basis. He enjoys people's reactions, especially yours. So he stays letting his eyes scan your body like it was built for him. That is till he notices your pained expression when you look in the mirror or your hands that restlessly adjust the fabric in discontent. Only then does he strategically enter.

He probably starts in the room a little noisier so you aren’t caught off guard by his presence. He will immediately launch into pretty compliments and touch you in the places you hate the most. He’s calculating and cunning. He wants you to associate his loving touch with your insecurities in hopes that it will make you love them too. He has deep-rooted insecurities as well so he knows just how terrible they can make someone feel. He doesn’t want you to be hurt like that.

This man kisses every inch of your body that night and gives you a reason he loves every part of you. I think his words are so sweet it would be hard not to cry because of them

[destinationtrekk]

Okay so... this idea has been cowering in my mind for awhile now..

You work for Wesker and have like a bad day at work or whatever, like he fusses at you or something (also you've got a crush on him because who doesn't cough cough)

you go home and you've been kicked out (either roommate or partner or whatever) and the only place you can go is like really far or something and it's started raining but apparently you live like near him somewhat so he opens the door and you're just standing there drenched, needing a place to stay

id love to know how he'd react or what he'd do 👉👈

umbrella wesker for this... all employees have to live x miles from the facility or something for emergencies idk

anyway lets say your day was fucking awful. i mean nothing was going right, multiple projects on hold or even cancelled because just... everything is wrong. wesker knows how research goes, sometimes things just don't work out, but it doesn't stop him being pissy too. he takes it out on you because you work closest with him, and his harsh attitude is enough to make you tear up on the drive home.

when you go home to a complete shock of your partner ending things, of course you realize the place in in their name. you have enough time to pack a bag until you can come back for the rest of your things and... great. now it's raining

you have no where to go without calling out of work for a few days, which is just not an option, period. you've been to wesker's house once to drop off a few files but, you have no other choice. the facility is in the middle of no where, you can't just get a hotel or sleep in your car, you're fucked. you have to risk asking him for help.

you're drenched when he opens the door, looking like a truly pathetic lost puppy, and he just stares as you sputter through excuses to explain what you're doing at his house. you're shivering and leaving a puddle on his welcome mat so he rolls his eyes and invites you in.

he makes you stand in place while he goes to get you a towel, and surprisingly comes back with a dry shirt and sweatpants too. he doesn't say anything about it, just points you to the restroom and wanders off.

you come back out somewhat dry and in comfy clothes, expecting him to... honestly you weren't even sure you'd get this far. he doesn't ask you to explain or justify why you're suddenly without a place to stay, which unnerves you a little. wesker is not the kind of man to bitch at someone all day and then accept them into his home and into his clothes without question. he washes your sopping wet clothes for you and you spend the night on his ridiculously comfortable couch. you leave in the morning before the sun rises, clocking into work hours early just to avoid an awkward morning with wesker, though you know he heard you leave.

the next day, work is marginally better, despite your awful mood and severe anxiety over what you'll do tonight. it's only wednesday, and you need a plan until the weekend. all of your half-assed plans are cut short when wesker finds you just as your shift is ending.

"leaving so soon? i thought you'd be more eager to work a double, considering how early you got here." he's got an eyebrow raised above his stupid ass sunglasses and he cuts off your sputtering with a raised hand.

"I have...meetings to attend tonight. the back door will be open, if you...need it." his expression is tense, but you hear the genuine meaning behind his words. he walks away and leaves you mouth agape in your lab. guess you have a place to stay after all.

[thenerdykneazle]

Fast Asleep

Summary: Sebastian finds himself unable to resist his curiosity when late nights fighting baddies cause the two of you to repeatedly spend the night in the Room of Requirement together. He justifies his actions at first - as he does best - but he quickly spirals out of control.

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Second person but Seb's perspective

Word count: 9856

Warnings: 18+, sexually explicit content, aged-up characters, non-consensual somnophilia, dead dove, loss of virginity / first time

Seriously, this is the most unhinged thing I've ever written. Please take care of yourself and do not read if it will trigger you or you're uncomfortable with the subject matter. This is a far cry from my last few fluffy pieces.

It had started innocently enough. It was out of necessity, after all, that you were in the situation to begin with. He hadn’t planned or manipulated anything. But Sebastian was not one to pass up an opportunity when it was so perfectly presented to him.

Truthfully, the first time Sebastian slept with you was totally innocent. It was just sleeping. You’d been out adventuring far too late and rather than risk getting caught wandering the halls, you flooed directly into the Room of Requirement, which had produced a bedroom with a set of twin beds. You each slept in your own until you awoke screaming. You’d had a nightmare about one of the poachers that you’d just faced hitting Sebastian with a killing curse rather than the near-miss that had happened in real life.

You were screaming his name, and no one would sleep through that. Sebastian had awoken with a start and immediately rushed to you, asking what was wrong and if you were hurt. You told him about your dream. He sat on the edge of your bed and just held you. You couldn’t bear not being able to confirm that he was okay, so you asked him to bring his bed next to yours. He levitated it over, and you watched him for nearly an hour before you were able to fall asleep again.

The next time late-night adventuring brought you both to the Room of Requirement, Sebastian had to support you as you limped along. You’d taken several hard hits in the spider den, and you’d both run out of wiggenwelds. He sat you on the nearest chair before grabbing an extra phial of the green liquid from your cabinet.

“I still think you should go to Nurse Blainey,” Sebastian said gravely.

You waved him off. “I’m fine,” you insisted. You could feel your deep-set bruises fading already.

“It’s not worth the risk,” he argued firmly.

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll go in the morning. I’m tired,” you said, aiming for a compromise like you always did.

“You could be bleeding internally. You could die in your sleep!” Sebastian said, trying not too sound too panicked. He knew his eyes betrayed just how scared he was. “I can’t let something bad happen to you.”

You sighed, which frustrated him because he knew you were going to keep arguing. “I can tell it’s not that serious. I just want to sleep, Seb,” you said pleadingly.

Sebastian’s jaw tensed. He had a very, very difficult time saying no to you. He agreed to let you sleep under the condition that he could check on you every hour. You agreed, and you went to your respective beds. You fell asleep quickly, but Sebastian couldn’t. He was too worried. He watched you sleep – or tried to, but the room was dim, and it was hard to see if you were breathing.

After twenty minutes, he got up and padded his bare feet across the room until he stood beside your bed. He could hear and see your soft breathing as he knelt by your bed. “MC?” he whispered.

No response.

“MC?” he called louder.

You groaned and stirred. “Bash?” you replied, barely lifting your head as you squinted up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I…I just wanted to be sure you’re all right,” he said.

You nuzzled back into your pillow. “Mhmm, just sleeping,” you replied groggily.

“Not dizzy or having headaches, right?” he inquired anxiously.

“No, just tired. Go back to bed,” you said.

So, he did. For another twenty minutes. Then, he got up again and walked back over to convince himself you were still breathing. He had no idea what he’d do if he let something bad happen to you. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. He already felt guilty that you’d gotten injured so many times that night. There were just so many spiders.

The creaking of the floor woke you up before Sebastian even reached you.

“What time is it?” you grumbled, clearly irritated at being awoken again.

Sebastian checked. “Half one,” he replied.

You groaned and rolled over, away from him. “Go to sleep, Bash,” you groused.

“I’m just worried,” he said, trying to get you to understand. “I have this awful feeling that something’s wrong. Like I’m gonna check and you won’t be breathing.”

You huffed and turned over again. You lifted your blanket up. “Get in,” you ordered.

Sebastian blinked at you. “What?” he asked.

“Get in,” you repeated more harshly. “If you wake me up again, I’ll hex you. You can keep an eye on me from here. Now, hurry up. I want to sleep.”

Sebastian didn’t wait to be told again. He slipped under your covers. You turned onto your right side again, facing away from him and toward the wall. You reached back and grabbed his hand. He blushed, and he was very glad your back was to him. He squeezed your fingers in his, relishing their warmth.

You brought his hand to a spot high on your stomach. “Here. You can feel me breathing,” you stated. “Good night.”

You left his hand on your stomach and tucked your own under your head.

Sebastian briefly felt very silly for thinking you were just trying to hold his hand. He found it hard for his mood to stay depressed as he lay so close to you, though. He focused on the feeling of your breaths as they deepened, evening out as you drifted off. He nuzzled into your neck, where he could feel your pulse. He left the rest of his body disconnected from yours.

At some point, he succumbed to sleep, as well. He woke up still in the dark to the rather startling sound of you retching. You were leaned over the far side of the bed. Sebastian grabbed his wand, vanished your sick, and conjured a bucket in record time. He held your hair and rubbed your back as you panted after seemingly ejecting all of your organs.

“I think I have a concussion,” you said weakly.

“We’re going to Nurse Blainey,” he stated firmly.

You just nodded. You couldn’t tolerate the thought of going by floo, so Sebastian had to walk you to the infirmary. You vomited several times on the way.

After that, Sebastian always slept in your bed when you stayed in the Room of Requirement. Insisting you were fine despite being concussed lost you your credibility with him. He was always worried you were injured without realising it. The next three stays, you fell asleep side-by-side with Sebastian’s hand on your stomach and face pressed into your neck. He realised you had a very high heart rate for someone so active, though it would always slow after you fell asleep. He supposed it took a while for the adrenaline to wear off after one of your escapades. So, he stopped worrying quite so much about it.

But lying in bed next to you was a comfort and a torture. He could convince himself you were fine, which was a relief. On the other hand, your heat sank into his skin and the scent of your shampoo filled his nose, which drove him crazy. He made a fatal error during the fourth time he slept next to you when he opened his eyes. He had just meant to look to see his hand rising and falling with your breathing, because he stopped being sure he really felt it. He might have been imagining the sensations and sounds that he expected, but he didn’t think his mind could conjure the sight of it. So, he checked.

Well, he intended to. But his first view upon opening his eyes was down the front of your nightgown. He knew it wasn’t his fault that he saw your cleavage pressed together through the gap at your loose collar. But he also knew he couldn’t claim innocence when he immediately brushed away a lock of hair that had partially obstructed his view.

Sebastian bit his lip as he continued to stare at the smooth skin of your breasts. He’d never seen a woman’s bare curves from so close before. Hogwarts uniforms didn’t exactly feature brazen displays of décolletage – or even hint at it. He’d only had the odd distant glimpse of the more progressively dressed women in Hogsmeade.

As he took in every detail of the exposed region of your chest, he began to feel that he was being rather invasive. He thought that he probably ought to look away. On the other hand, he could tell by your breasts’ slight rise and fall that you were definitely still breathing. Would it be wrong of him to make sure you didn’t stop? That was the whole point of him sleeping next to you, after all.

So, Sebastian kept his gaze – in the interest of health and safety. The longer her looked, though, the more his fingers itched to touch, as well. Your breasts looked so full and soft. He wondered if he could fit each fully in his hand. He wasn’t sure, but his fingers were quite long. His fingers on your stomach fanned and stretched as he thought about it. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. To touch you without permission…You’d be furious.

Though, you’d never know, he reasoned. So, how could you be upset? You were more likely to be angered by him asking to touch you when you were awake. Really, it would be better for you if he sated himself while you were unconscious. He was now desperate to find out what you felt like – he had to know. So, there were only two options: offend you or keep a secret. So, really, there was only one option.

Heart thundering in his chest, Sebastian slowly slid his left hand up your stomach, dragging the cotton nightgown up a bit with it. He moved just a few centimetres, then stopped. He watched and listened. There was no change. He slowly released the breath he’d been holding. After a few more seconds, when he was sure you were still fast asleep, he slid his hand a bit higher. He tucked his hand just under your breasts and froze again. He got just a taste of the weight of them, and his cock twitched in his pyjamas.

He could barely hear your soft, rhythmic breaths over the blood rushing in his ears.

He carefully lifted his thumb, stroking between your breasts over your nightgown. The quietest moan escaped Sebastian’s lips, but you slept on, undisturbed. He wanted urgently to fill his palm with your perfectly formed flesh, but he forced himself to move slowly. He stroked the inside of your right breast with his thumb, squeezing it lightly with his index finger still underneath it. It was Heaven.

Emboldened by your heavy sleep, he brought his fingers up over the pillowy mound and flexed them into it. He was practically panting now. His cock was hard and straining against the confines of his garments, trying to reach out to you – begging for Sebastian to press his hips forward and rut them against your backside. He resisted the urge to comply.

Instead, he circled the pads of his fingers on your flesh until his felt your nipple poke through the thin nightgown. You were asleep – totally unaware – but your body responded to him, anyway. Sebastian groaned at the feeling of the pebbled tip under his fingers. It was too loud.

He froze in fear, not even able to pull his incriminating hand off your breast. He was done for. You’d murder him for this. He knew you would. Worse, you’d never speak to him again.

But you slept on. Your breathing hadn’t changed at all.

Sebastian needed to stop. He knew he did. He’d already pushed his luck too far. But the need to feel your other breast as well overpowered anything else. He cupped your left breast in his hand, lightly dragging his thumb over it so that your nipple hardened to his touch.

Fuck.

Feeling your body become aroused to his touch was intoxicating. His dick was throbbing for attention. But just feeling you wasn’t enough. Just like with your breathing. He needed to see you. Gods, it was so wrong. He knew it was. But he had to.

Sebastian gripped the neck of your nightgown. He hesitated. Was he really going through with this? It was a violation of your privacy. Of your trust. You felt safe sleeping next to him.

Fuck. He couldn’t do that to you.

But he so desperately wanted to see you. Find out what colour your nipples were. The size of your areolas. He wanted to know every detail. Maybe even taste you.

He brought his right hand to cup himself over his trousers. He squeezed his shaft with a punishing grip, trying to get even a small bit of relief from his aching cock.

He still had his fist clenched around the collar of your nightgown. He should’ve let go. He’d meant to – the moment he decided not to look, he’d meant to let go. He tugged the collar down just a bit as he was focused on his right hand touching himself. It was on accident, probably. Definitely. He hadn’t meant to. But now the backs of his fingers were pressed into the top of your breast. It was so soft, and a new wave of desire swallowed him. He just had to see you and feel your skin on his own. Gods, he needed it.

He pulled the fabric down further until your left breast was completely exposed. He teased your nipple before palming your breast. He had to stretch his fingers out wide to envelop it. He could just barely fit the whole thing in his hand. An exact fit. Like you were made for him.

“Fuck, MC,” he hissed.

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You stirred a bit as an unintelligible noise left your lips. Sebastian quickly righted your nightgown before returning his hand to your stomach. His heart was beating out of his chest, pounding against his ribs as it tried to break through them.

Were you awake? Had you noticed what he’d done?

You shifted slightly, and then you were still. Your rhythmic breathing returned.

It was a very close call.

Sebastian thought he should pop out and take care of his…current state…before he did something else stupid and woke you for real. But he was nervous to leave you alone. He was still genuinely afraid something bad was going to happen to you. So, he stayed. He just lay there and suffered through the aching desire that had consumed him until his body finally calmed down.

He woke up the next morning extremely hard – way worse than the usual morning wood. It took a good bit of finesse to keep you from noticing. But that was the only evidence of his misdeeds the prior night. After you parted ways, he successfully made it back to his dorm without anyone noticing his…predicament. Once alone, he was quick to close himself in his bed for a wank. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched himself to thoughts of you, but it was the first time his imaginings were more memory than pure fantasy.

The next time he slept next to you in the Room of Requirement, he was hard before you even fell asleep. You rehashed your raid of the goblin camp before really settling down for bed. Sebastian decided he quite liked lying in bed and talking with you. He might like to do it forever. Aside from the anxiety of all the injuries you might have, he vastly preferred sleeping with you in the Room of Requirement to his dorm. And not just because of his new discovery of just how fantastic your tits were.

Though, speaking of them, he was quite eager to say hello. He couldn’t stop thinking of them since he’d gotten to see and feel them a few days ago. He was distracted in every single class the two of you shared, especially potions that day. All class he had watched you as you leaned over your cauldron, your robe off and tie loose. The steam from your cauldron brought a rosy flush to your cheeks – not to mention what it did to your hair. He imagined it was the sort of dishevelled look you’d have after being freshly fucked in the potions supply room. It had him running to the nearest broom cupboard to take care of himself as soon as Sharp had dismissed you all.

Sebastian waited for fifteen agonising minutes after you’d fallen asleep before he dared to move. He’d stop at tucking his hand under your breasts. He just wanted to be close to them again. He wouldn’t be as risky as last time. Or as invasive.

As soon as his hand was under your breasts, his thumb automatically tucked up between them. It was basically a reflex. But that would be as far as he went. Just stroking his thumb between your breasts.

But as he stroked the inside of your right breast again, he realised how lonely it seemed without your arm tucked under it this time. So, he held it for you. He brought his thumb down underneath your gown’s neckline and let out a little whimper as he grazed over your hardened nipple – skin-to-skin.

Not wanting to be unfair, he pulled your gown aside to take out your left breast and palmed it, too. After all, he loved them equally.

He marvelled at how perfectly you fit in his hand. He thought he might’ve imagined it last time, swept up in seeing tits – your tits, no less – for the first time. He bit back a moan as he massaged the flesh. He couldn’t stand how beautiful you were. Every inch of you. It really wasn’t fair. How was he supposed to stay away?

Sebastian carefully raised himself up on his right elbow, doing his best not to shift the bed under you. He needed a better look. Nuzzled into your neck kept him close to your breasts, but he wanted to take in the whole of them. He adjusted the gown so it was pulled down beneath both breasts.

And Gods, they were gorgeous.

He ran his left hand over them, going back and forth to give them equal attention. They were so soft. So pretty. So responsive. Just perfect. He cupped his hand under your left breast. Before he even realised what he was doing, his head had dipped down and his tongue was against your nipple. He licked languid stripes up and down before sucking the bud into his mouth.

You let out a soft sigh.

Sebastian released you with a pop. He just hovered, your breast still in his hand and his mouth centimetres from your wet nipple.

You didn’t stir further.

Unable to resist, he latched back onto your nipple. He kept suckling until you let out a breathy moan. He fixed your gown and moved his hand back down in a fraction of a second. As you shifted, he could tell you were waking up.

“MC?” he said quietly.

Your eyes fluttered open. “Bash?”

“It’s me, darling. Are you all right? You were groaning in your sleep.” He felt a knot twist in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was guilt from lying or anxiety that you knew exactly why you’d been ‘groaning.’

Your cheeks flushed as you looked up at him. “Oh, sorry. Just, erm, a bad dream.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Sebastian had to repress a grin. You wouldn’t be so embarrassed over a ‘bad dream.’ He reckoned his actions were seeping into your subconscious, making you dream about what was happening to your body. The thought made him shiver. “I’m sorry, love. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Oh, uh, n-no. That’s okay,” you said. Even in the dim light, Sebastian could see that your face was positively flaming. Bad dream, indeed.

“Okay. Just rest then, love. I’ve got you,” he said. Sebastian settled back down onto his side. He tugged you closer to his chest, wanting to comfort you on the off chance that you had actually been having a nightmare. He was careful to keep his hips a safe distance from your bum, though.

“All right,” you agreed. You relaxed into him, and it wasn’t long before you drifted off again.

As much as he wanted to test his theory, Sebastian resolved to get some sleep. No more touching tonight. Or ever. He really shouldn’t be fondling your breasts while you sleep, no matter how lonely they seem.

At least, he had resolved to stop until he nuzzled back into your neck and breathed in your scent. He smelled your shampoo, which was delicious as ever. But that wasn’t all he could smell. He could smell your arousal. Your little pussy must’ve been dripping for him while you slept.

Merlin, he wanted to dip in and feel you – feel how slick he’d made you. He had to know. Your body was practically calling to him, after all.

You shifted a bit in bed, your hips moving around slightly before settling again.

He wondered if you were feeling worked up, too. Gods, he hoped you were.

Once he was sure you were back in deep sleep, Sebastian began sneaking his hand down your stomach. He could feel the top of your knickers through your gown. He began pulling up the fabric slowly. Painfully slowly. Until your knickers were exposed. It was torture to have to control his movements so rigorously. He just wanted to be able to explore you. To ravish you like you deserved.

A terrible, tempting thought struck his mind. He could stun you. Already asleep, you’d never know. He’d be free to do whatever he liked, and you wouldn’t be able to feel any of it. He could strip you bare, runs his hands wherever he pleased, even fuck you. You’d be none the wiser. Save likely being sore after from that last one.

Sebastian was ashamed of how alluring the idea was to him. But he would never go that far. He wanted you to experience when he touched you. Your body was clearly receptive to him. On some level, you must want his touch. He was sure of it. And he certainly wanted you aware the first time he fucked you. No, not just fucked. Made love. Because he loved you. He really did. He just wasn’t sure you’d let him touch you yet the ways he wanted if you were awake. Despite all the rules you broke together, you were rather concerned with being a respectable young woman. Even if you let him, he was quite sure you’d regret it later.

Like this, he could give your body pleasure without you feeling guilty about it. And if he enjoyed the process, well, that was a secondary benefit. At least, that was what Sebastian told himself as he slipped his hand into your knickers. He traced down through the thatch of curls until he found the lips of your cunt. He cupped over you, trying to keep his breaths even as he listened to make sure you hadn’t stirred.

You were so warm down there. It was…inviting, to say the least.

He pressed his middle finger down between your lips, and he felt the hot, slick arousal that coated you. Gods, you were drenched. Sebastian bit his lip hard to hold back a moan.

Fuck, what he would give to bury himself inside you. You were so fucking wet. He bet he’d slide right in. He might even be able to slip into you before you woke up. His cock was leaking just at the thought of it.

Sebastian slid his finger slowly through your folds. He could feel your entrance, and he traced around it, feeling the contours. He swept up higher until he found the little pearl he was sure was your clitoris. Other men had trouble finding them? He couldn’t understand why. It really wasn’t that difficult.

As he slid his finger over the nub, your hips jolted, and Sebastian ripped his hand back.

You gasped as you bolted into a sitting position.

“Are you okay? Did I–I mean, are you hurt?” Sebastian asked, worried he’d injured you.

You were panting. “S-sorry, I…I mean, no. I’m fine,” you stammered.

As Sebastian tried to subtly, though regrettably, wipe your arousal from his hand, he realised the smell of sex in the air was quite obvious. You seemed to notice, too, as your cheeks were red again. You pressed your legs together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sebastian asked guiltily.

You nodded vigorously. “Yeah, just had a…a strange dream again, is all.”

Sebastian could’ve cried with relief. He’d escaped being caught by a narrow thread twice in one night. You were convinced it was only dreams. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked, hoping irrationally that you’d say something like ‘act it out with me.’

“I’m, um, a bit warm. Maybe just some extra space between us?” you suggested.

Sebastian tried not to pout. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He agreed, though. He was just happy that by some miracle you hadn’t caught him with his hand in your knickers.

Sebastian gave you the extra space. You were able to fall asleep again fairly quickly. He struggled, though. The adrenaline of both feeling your sweet little cunt and almost being caught doing so was doing him no favours. The bigger issue, though, was no longer having his hand on your stomach to feel you breathing. He stared at the spot, watching the rise and fall. Whenever his eyes drifted shut for a few seconds, he’d jolt awake, panicked that you’d have stopped breathing. That went on for hours.

The next morning, you could tell that he was exhausted. You weaselled the less salacious half of the reason out of him. You assured him you were fine and insisted that he go get some rest in his dorm.

He did as instructed – after relieving some tension first. He lay on his bed with his right hand wrapped around his cock. There was still the faint scent of you on his left hand. His eyes rolled back as he inhaled. You were intoxicating. Addicting. He came hard as he breathed you in. Rather than sated, he just felt desperate to spend another night with you.

His chance came just two nights later. Which was good, because he was going crazy. He had to go about his days like everything was normal while the urges to bury his face, fingers, and cock between your thighs nearly overwhelmed him. He was surprised he could even fight, but it turned out to be a really good way to work out some of his mounting stress. He did drag things out a bit, though, so that the two of you arrived back at the castle after curfew.

Once in the Room of Requirement, you fetched a potion before heading to the bedroom. Sebastian didn’t recognise the purple liquid at first. “What’s that?”

“Potion for dreamless sleep,” you said. “I didn’t want to keep you up again.”

“Oh, er, are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, should you take that if you could be injured?”

“I barely took a single hit tonight. I’m fine, Seb,” you insisted.

His heart stuttered. He loved when you called him that. It was so familiar. Fond, even. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” he tried. He was sure that it was a bad idea, just not for reasons he cared to admit at the moment.

You rolled your eyes. “You can feel me breathe if you need convincing. But we both need sleep.”

Before he could argue further, you downed the brew.

Shit. That wasn’t good.

You transfigured your clothes into your usual nightgown and crawled in bed. Sebastian slipped in behind you. You fell asleep almost instantly.

Sebastian knew the potion made one drowsy and not have dreams. He wasn’t certain it made the drinker a heavier sleeper, though. It wasn’t like draught of living death, at any rate. He told himself you’d wake just as easily as always. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your breathing as he forced his fidgety fingers to stay on your stomach.

But he couldn’t resist forever. He had to know if you were out.

“MC?” he whispered.

Nothing.

Then, louder, he repeated, “MC?”

Still nothing.

He shook your shoulder firmly as he called your name a third time, but you just slept on. Sebastian groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he buried his face in your neck.

He would just go to sleep. He wouldn’t do anything. Just sleep.

He tried to get comfortable, snuggling in closer behind you. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo as he took deep, relaxing breaths. Or at least, he had hoped they’d be relaxing. They were more intoxicating than anything.

Sebastian’s lips pressed into your neck – just needing the contact. Though, it quickly turned into a tail of kisses up to a spot behind your ear. You sighed in your sleep contently. The sound went straight to Sebastian’s cock as he realised that, even with the potion, your body was still responding to him.

He held you closer with his arm around your middle. “I’ve got you, love,” he purred in your ear. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

He felt a pang of guilt as he considered the fact that he was meant to be keeping you safe. The whole reason he shared your bed was to make sure you weren’t hurt – not to feel you up while you slept. But, on the other hand, you seemed so relaxed by his touch. You were normally so stressed with the weight of all that you carried. He could give you relief.

You moaned as he palmed your breast over your gown, his fingers massaging into the flesh. His thumb teased your nipple. The action had a familiarity for him now like returning home at the end of the school year.

He trailed his hand back down your stomach, across your side, and over your bum. Your knee was bent up in front of you, pulling your skin and muscle taught over your backside. Sebastian traced the curve of your arse down to the back of your knee and then up again.

He grabbed a handful of the rounded flesh, kneading it roughly. He groaned at the feeling of your bum in his hand. He wanted to squeeze it, bite it, even slap it and watch the skin turn red before soothing it with his tongue.

He pressed his hips forward into you. His hard cock was welcomed by your arse, nestling in between your cheeks. Sebastian groaned at the embrace. His hips rutted against you, making more moans pour from his lips.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good, MC,” he groaned. He gripped your hip to give himself more leverage to grind against you. “Your arse is perfect, darling. All of you is so perfect.”

He pulled up your nightgown, exposing your knickers. Sebastian circled his hand around your firm bum before dipping it under the waistband of your knickers to feel your skin directly. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Your skin was so soft on his fingers. It was maddening, making him crave to explore every inch of you.

He slid his hand forward between your thighs where your slick arousal met him as he parted your folds. He let a loud moan slip out. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, darling,” he breathed. “Such a good girl, even when you’re asleep.”

He stroked languidly through your folds before sliding further forward, seeking out your clit. His muscles were tensed, ready to rip his hand out of your knickers the instant you began to wake.

You moaned softly as he found and massaged the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, MC. You moan so pretty for me,” he praised. “Gods, I love you!”

You whimpered as he kept rubbing your bud with his fingers.

Sebastian quickly grew fed up with your knickers restricting him. He grabbed his wand, vanished them, and returned his hand to you instantly.

He shoved his right arm under you to wrap around your waist, holding you against his chest. He started thrusting against you again. “I want you so badly, MC,” he groaned. “Gods, I need to feel you around me. Would you like that? Having me fill your little pussy up with my cock?”

You kept whimpering as his left hand worked your clit. But he struggled to keep a rhythm with his nondominant hand. He replaced it with his right one, reaching down between your thighs from the front. He used the middle finger on his left hand to push inside of your cunt. He moaned, hips stuttering on your arse, as your plush walls gripped him.

Sebastian could hardly get his breath. “Fuck,” he groaned, unable to put together anything more eloquent as you continued to squeeze him. His mind was blissfully blank – the only salient thought in his head was how much he never wanted to stop being inside of you.

He pumped his finger in and out of you, while his other hand found a steady pace on your clit.

“I’m gonna make you come, darling,” he said. “I promised I’d take care of you. Now I will, okay?”

Still snapping his hips into your bum, Sebastian worked your cunt, building up the pleasure in your body. He could feel your soaked channel really start to squeeze him. Your whimpering grew louder, and your muscles tensed.

“That’s it, darling,” Sebastian said, gritting the words out between thrusts of his hips. His fingers moved furiously over your clit, desperate to bring you to your high. “You’re doing so good. So good, MC.”

He was in awe as you suddenly tensed fully, moaning out as your pussy spasmed around Sebastian’s finger. He was certain you would wake, but he was too enthralled to care. The sounds you made. The feeling of your body rigid and overwhelmed by his touch. Your tight cunt clamping down on him. He was in ecstasy.

Your body went limp, and Sebastian felt your aftershocks as he continued to pump his finger into you slowly, not yet willing to leave your warmth. And still, you continued to sleep.

“Sweet Salazar, that was beautiful,” he said, nuzzling into your neck. “You’re beautiful, MC.”

You whimpered once more as he slid his finger out of you. He left his right hand just resting over your cunt, cupping you protectively.

No longer enraptured by watching you come, Sebastian became painfully aware of how hard his cock was. It throbbed where it was pinned between his hips and your bum.

He ran his fingers on the inside of your thighs, gliding over the arousal that had leaked down onto them. Sebastian bit down into his lip as he drew your leg back, pressing your thighs together. He slid his hand between them. He groaned as he imagined his cock between your slick thighs instead of his fingers.

But that would be crossing a line. It was one thing to bring you pleasure as you slept. It was another thing entirely to use you for his own. But he couldn’t deny how incredible you’d feel.

He’d ripped his pyjamas and pants down while he was still debating with himself. He’d just feel your skin on his. Just once, briefly. He’d satisfy his curiosity, and then he’d go to sleep.

He moaned as he rubbed his cock between your arse cheeks. It was a feeling his hand could never compare to. Just the fact that it was you against him made it far superior, despite the lack of lubrication there. He used a charm when he got himself off, wetting his cock with an imitation of the slick coating your thighs.

Sebastian gripped the base of his shaft as he changed the angle of his hips. He’d just dip in, lubricate himself, and then have a wank. Technically, it wasn’t that different than touching your thighs with his hands – and he’d already done that.

He shuddered as he slid in between your thighs. He hadn’t realised how warm it would be. Gods, it was amazing. He was thrusting in and out before he even realised. It was necessary, though, to get enough of your juices on him. He could hardly have just done one swipe through your slick and been ready to go.

He grabbed onto your hip with his left hand. His right moved to anchor on your abdomen. He was panting as his thrusts sped up. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he groaned. And you were. Warm, wet, and squeezing him perfectly. His eyes rolled back at the feeling.

Sebastian was hurtling toward an orgasm. Rookwood himself couldn’t stop him at that point if he resurrected and burst into the room. Sebastian’s brain was half melted as pleasure overtook his usual faculties. His only thoughts were how good you felt and how badly he needed release. “Fuck, MC! Yes! Gods, you’re gonna milk my fucking cock with these thighs!”

He came with a shout. His cum shot out in spurts, adding to the slick between your thighs and leaking out over them in front and back. Some even burst out as he was fully buried between your thighs, staining the bedsheets.

He lay boneless and draped over you as he caught his breath. Once he regained use of his limbs, he sat up and pressed kisses to your temple. He nuzzled into your skin and whispered his love for you and how good you’d been for him.

He cast a cleaning charm, removing the mixture of fluids from the bed and your skin.

Erasing the evidence.

A sharp pang of guilt struck his stomach like a bludger as he pulled his pyjamas back up.

He curled around you, holding you close. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered into your ear. “Really, I am, MC. I just needed you so badly. Just like your body needed me. But I’m sorry. So sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Sebastian woke the next morning with the guilt deep in his bones. He held your sleeping form close, hoping and praying that he hadn’t hurt you – physically or emotionally. He’d been out of control the night before. But he’d tried to stop you from taking that damned potion. Still, he’d promised himself after the Scriptorium that he’d never do anything to hurt you again. There was only one way to make sure that happened.

You stirred as sunlight from a window hit your face. You groaned and flipped around to bury your face in Sebastian’s chest, hiding from the light. He wished he could hide, too.

“MC?” he asked.

“Mm,” you replied, refusing to lift your head. You adjusted the gown you wore. It had twisted up a bit as you flipped over.

Sebastian raked your hair out of your face with his fingers, letting them linger in your locks for just a moment longer than necessary. He was savouring being close to you. You might never let him near you again. “I…I need to tell you something,” he said.

“Now?” you whinged.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s…important,” he said.

You tilted your head back to squint up at him through the bright light. “What is it?” you asked, obviously worried.

He took a deep breath. He had to tell you. He owed you that much. “I’ve been doing…things while you’ve been sleeping.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Things?” You were squinting less but still groggy, and Sebastian wasn’t making sense.

“Yes. Things I shouldn’t’ve done. I’m sorry. I really am. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Sebastian, what on earth are you talking about?”

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, working to force the words out. “I’ve been, erm, touching you when we sleep together.” He felt like he was going to be sick. How had he let it go so far?

To his shock, you laughed in his face. “Yeah, Bash, I know.”

You did? Why were you so calm about it? Had you liked it? Had you been awake the whole time?

His thoughts raced in the short pause before you continued, “I put your hand on my stomach, remember?”

His heart sank with the weight of even more guilt at your implicit trust of him. You couldn’t fathom he’d betray you like he had. “Not just there. Other places,” he admitted. His face flamed.

You just kept looking at him with a confused expression marring your features.

“Your…erm, your bum and breasts and…your cunt. Not just rubbing you, but I…I fingered you. And I – Merlin, I’m so sorry – I put my…” He had to stop and take a deep breath. “I fucked your thighs last night.”

The lines in your forehead deepened. “You…what? Bash, that’s not funny. Why are you saying this?”

His heart nearly shattered. Here he was telling you explicitly what he’d done, and you still couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t known admitting his sins would mean having to convince you they really happened. “I’m not joking. It’s…it’s true. I’m so sorry.”

You gaped at him. You thought back to the last several nights you’d spent together. The dreams you’d been having – even last night after taking the potion. You felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on your head. “Why?” you asked.

“I just couldn’t resist you. Or I didn’t want to,” he said. He didn’t want to act like he hadn’t made a choice. He knew he did. “Being so close to you. I just wanted you so badly. I’ve always wanted you – ever since the day we met. And when I touched you, you’d moan or sigh and your nipples got hard and you were wet. Like you liked it. But I know you would feel guilty about doing those things with me. So, I told myself that touching you while you slept meant I could make you feel good and you wouldn’t have to feel guilty, because you had no choice. But really, I just like it and didn’t want to stop. And then I kept going further. And last night…with your thighs…that was just to make me feel good. I’m so sorry. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t sleep in your bed anymore.”

Your head was spinning as you tried to process all the information. In the end, all you could say was, “I guess that explains why my knickers are gone.”

Sebastian hadn’t realised he’d forgotten to replace them. He scolded himself for being so stupid. Not that it mattered now after his confession.

You felt like you should be terrified. Sprint out of the room. Report him to Black or Weasley. But this was Sebastian. You’d been through so much together. You cared about him so much. You–

“I’m so sorry, MC,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. You had been quiet for too long, and he couldn’t take it. “I love you, and I promised myself I’d never hurt you again. But I fucked up so badly. I know making you come isn’t exactly the cruciatus curse, but it was a violation, and it’s probably worse in a lot of ways. You’d given me permission in the Scriptorium, at least.”

So, you had come like you dreamt. Of all the things you could have or should have felt, you felt relieved that you hadn’t totally missed the first time Sebastian made you orgasm. Or, what you assumed was the first time. It was still all so confusing. “Was that the first time?” you asked.

Sebastian shook his head, and your heart sank. “I touched your breasts after we rescued all those nifflers from poachers last week.”

Now you were confused. You really doubted you could orgasm just from your breasts being touched. The question escaped before could control your tongue. “You’re sure I came?”

“Last night?” Sebastian asked as his cheek flushed. “I mean, pretty sure. I–I’d never seen a girl orgasm before, but from what I’ve heard…Well, and I could feel…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Feel…the pulses with…with my finger in you.” He couldn’t look at you.

Your brow furrowed again. “I’m confused,” you stated. “Last week was the first time you made me orgasm or last night was?”

He looked at you again. “Last week was the first time I touched you. Last night was the first time I fingered you and the first time you came. As far as I know. But I feel like I’d have noticed,” he said.

You nodded in understanding. You were quiet for a minute. “And you came, too?” you asked.

Sebastian nodded, looking down at the mattress. It was hard to avoid your gaze when you two were still lying so close together.

“And that was the first time you came?” you inquired.

He nodded again. “Well, with you,” he said. He added quickly, “Or anyone! I mean, I’ve…touched myself before. Alone.”

That had your mind spinning again. “And you came from fucking my thighs?” you asked, your hand absently traced your skin beneath the covers.

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut as he nodded. He felt like such a disgusting creep.

You tilted your head. “Do you want to fuck me?” You wondered if this was more about you or some weird fetish thing.

Sebastian’s eyes snapped open. “Yes, but I would never do that! I wouldn’t take you while you’re asleep. I swear! That’s part of why I told you. To make sure it…To make sure I wouldn’t lose control again and do something I’d regret.”

“So, you do want to, but you’d regret it?” you asked, confusion creeping back again.

“I’d regret using you again while you’re asleep,” he said.

You held back a smirk. “So, you want to fuck me while I’m awake?” The thought had heat blooming in your abdomen.

His whole face was red. “Of course,” he confirmed. “I mean, ‘fuck’ makes it sound so detached, but I…I want to make love to you.”

As he raked a gentle hand through your hair, a statement he made that you heard but hadn’t processed was yanked to the front of your mind. I love you, and I promised myself I’d never hurt you again. He loved you. He wanted to make love. Because he loved you.

You looked up into his warm brown eyes and couldn’t believe how you’d never seen the love in them before. It seemed so obvious now. “You love me?” you asked, more to hear the words again than confirm he meant them.

He nodded. “So much, MC,” he said earnestly. “I’m so sorry. I swear I–”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said before acting on impulse and pressing your lips to his. He looked stunned when you pulled back. “I love you, too.”

His jaw fell open as he gaped openly at you.

You kept his gaze. “I want you to touch me. But when I’m awake. I want to be with you, Sebastian. And, for the record, I wouldn’t regret it. I turned down everyone else because I didn’t want them. I just want you.”

“You’re the only one I want, too,” he said, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

He slid his other arm under you to hold you tight to his chest.

“I know,” you replied as you snuggled in closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tangling your legs with his. You nuzzled into his chest, and Sebastian rested his cheek on top of your head. He took in the relaxing scent of your shampoo and the warmth of your body against his. He was flooded with relief to know you didn’t hate him. More than that, you loved him back, which made him indescribably happy.

He was, perhaps, a bit too happy.

“Oh,” you said in surprise, pulling back to look up at him.

Sebastian could feel the blush colouring his cheeks. “Sorry, I just…really like having you in my arms.”

You gave him a sultry smirk. “I like it, too,” you replied. You bit your lip as you pressed your hips forward into his.

He groaned at the contact. “You just like getting me worked up, you little minx,” he chastised playfully.

You gained a mischievous glint in your eye. “Maybe,” you replied, feigning innocence with your doe-eyed expression as you wriggled your hips to continue the torture. He could see your eyes darken as you brought your hand down to palm his growing erection. “Or maybe I’d like to take care of you.” You winked at him.

Sebastian moaned, dropping his forehead to rest on yours. “I’d like that,” he breathed.

“Tell me more about what you did while I slept,” you said as you pulled his length out of his trousers, wrapping your hand around him. Your teeth sunk into your lips as you looked down between the two of you at his cock, proudly erect and looking almost painfully red.

“Well, at first, I…Fuck, that feels so good!” Sebastian said, his head lolling back as you stroked him. “MC…”

“At first you what?” you pressed, pausing your movements.

Sebastian whimpered at the loss. “I just wanted to hold your tits,” he admitted.

You grabbed his hand, placing it on your chest quickly before returning to your prior task of fisting his cock. Sebastian moaned as he immediately massaged his fingers into your supple flesh.

“Then, I needed to see them,” he admitted.

Before he could tug your gown out of the way, you had sat up and ripped it over your head.

“Sweet Merlin,” Sebastian breathed as he took in the sight of you. In a flash, he had shucked his bottoms and was on top of you, pressing you back into the mattress as his lips devoured yours. “Gods, you’re so beautiful!”

You moaned in response as he sucked on your neck. He palmed your breast in his left hand while his right arm propped himself up. You gripped at his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his pyjama shirt. Sebastian sat back on his heels and worked open the buttons urgently before he tossed the shirt off.

Your hands dragged down his torso and around to the lean muscles of his back as he covered your body with his again. He pressed into you, soaking in the warmth of your skin and relishing the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest and the pressure on his cock as it was pinned between your bodies. He dove his tongue into your mouth as he kissed you, making you moan as you pulled him tighter against you. Gods, he loved kissing you.

You were panting when he pulled back. “I tasted you next,” he said, holding your gaze as he moved down so his face was even with your breasts. He hovered over your peak for a few seconds, letting his warm breath fan over your skin and watching as your breaths quickened and your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth.

“I’m s-supposed to be taking care of you, you know,” you said. Your voice was too needy to chide him effectively.

Sebastian smirked. “Yes, well, I seem to have gotten distracted.”

You whimpered as he circled his tongue around your already-stiff nipple before wrapping his lips around it. He alternated suckling and flicking his tongue back and forth over it.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you keened desperately.

He loved hearing you moan his name. He liked bringing you pleasure and seeing how worked up you got from him. His hand slid down your stomach as he released your nipple from his mouth. “I didn’t stop at your breasts, though,” he said lowly. Your breath hitched as he cupped his hand over the mound between your legs. “I touched you here.” He parted your folds, running his finger through your soaked slit. He thought it felt even wetter than it had the night before. “Rubbing you…” He circled the pad of his middle finger over your clit. “And plunging into you…” He slid the finger down your slit and sank it into your tight pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” you groaned, throwing your head back into the pillow. “Gods, that feels so good!”

Sebastian smirked with pride. He watched as his finger disappeared inside you over and over again. Your sweet little cunt looked delicious clinging to his finger like that.

Sebastian bit back a groan. “There are some things I didn’t get to do,” he observed, giving you a devilish grin.

You were too distracted by the sensation of his finger filling you to reply, but Sebastian didn’t mind. He liked the idea of fucking you dumb – he just hadn’t expected it to be so easy. He bent down, dipping his head to your core. He licked up the sides of your slit as he kept fucking you with his finger. You took in a sharp gasp before moaning his name.

You had a musky, faintly sweet taste. He’d never tasted anything like you, and he found himself unable to get his fill. He kept lapping eagerly before concentrating on the buddle of nerves at the top. You became a mewling mess as he kept thrusting his finger into you and flicking his tongue over your clit. You tangled a hand into his hair, holding him in place against your core as your hips lifted off the bed. As if he would’ve gone anywhere else.

Your moans kept increasing in both frequency and desperation. “Shit, that’s so–I-I’m gonna come!” you whined. Your whole body tensed, even your breaths ceased, before you let out a loud groan as he felt your cunt begin to pulse around him.

You collapsed back against the mattress with your chest heaving. You whined as Sebastian kept licking at your folds and pumping lazily into you. You used your purchase in his hair to pull him off.

“Come here,” you begged. “Please. I want you. I–Gods, I need you!”

Fuck, it was happening. He’d dreamt of it. So. Many. Times. He didn’t waste any time crawling back up your body. Both of your hands became tangled in his hair as he melded his lips with yours.

“I love you,” he panted before kissing you again.

“I love you, too,” you replied as you brought a leg up around his waist. Sebastian groaned as your hot core pressed against his length. “Now let me show you.”

Sebastian reached a hand down to grip his cock. He dragged its head through your slit. His eyes rolled back at just being pressed against your entrance. “Gods, I love your body. Your perfect little cunt,” he groaned.

“Please,” you keened, arching your hips up to try to get him inside.

With your appeal, Sebastian sank into your heat slowly, carefully. He released a breathy moan as he bottomed out inside you. He swore under his breath at how tightly you gripped him. You moaned as he sucked against your neck. He wanted to connect every part of your bodies, in every way possible.

You started moving your hips first, and Sebastian took it as his cue to start thrusting. He kept his face buried in your neck as he glided in and out of you. You met his thrusts, using the leg wrapped around him to pull your bodies even closer together. At some point, he had become the one whimpering. He couldn’t contain the noises that poured form his lips. You just felt so good.

“Faster,” you said, and Sebastian was happy to oblige.

His hips were snapping into yours when he felt his impending orgasm. He couldn’t tell how close you were, though. He did his best to hold off, but soon he could feel the point of no return looming. “Fuck, I’m gonna come if we don’t stop,” he groaned.

You moaned. “Come for me,” you said without hesitation. “Come in me, Seb.”

Sebastian’s cock throbbed at the thought of it and in a few more pumps his orgasm crashed through him. His seed burst out of him until it began seeping out of you and around the base of his cock. He kept thrusting, pushing his seed further into you. Some primal part of him wanted you as full of him as possible.

Once satisfied, Sebastian collapsed over top of you. He placed innumerable kisses over your neck, chest, and cheek. Finally, he pulled out of you. You winced as he did.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. “Did…did I hurt you?”

“Nothing bad. It’s just…sensitive,” you replied. You gave him a reassuring smile. “It felt amazing.”

Sebastian felt relief flood through him. “You were incredible,” he said in awe before crushing his mouth into yours. “I love you.” He kissed you again, more softly this time. “So much.”

He gently brushed your hair out of your face as he looked down at you reverently.

You laughed. “Yes, I think you mentioned it,” you teased, smirking up at him.

His cheeks flushed red. “Sorry, I–”

You pecked his lips, cutting him off. “It’s sweet, Sebastian,” you assured him. “I love you, too. You can tell me the same as much as you like.”

His face split in a broad grin. “I love you, MC,” he said. He gave your lips a peck like you’d given him. “I love you.” He nuzzled into your neck, making you giggle as he kissed your skin open-mouthed. “Gods, I love you!”

You laughed at his ridiculousness. Sebastian moved to lie beside you. He pulled you into him so your chests were pressed together and your legs entangled. For a long time, you just lay entwined together, basking in your afterglow. Sebastian stroked your hair languidly as you traced delicate patterns on his back with your fingertips.

“Hey!” you said suddenly, jerking your head up to give him a reproving look.

Sebastian’s pulse spiked at the anger in your voice. He was stared at you wide-eyed, just waiting for the shoe to drop.

“You owe me new knickers,” you whinged.

A smirk broke onto Sebastian’s face. “I don’t think you’ll be needing any of those for some time,” he replied, shifting the two of you so that he hovered over you. “Though, I’m sure I could find a way to make it up to you.���

He dipped his head and began to kiss down from the angle of your jaw to your shoulder.

“Oh?” you said, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

Sebastian chuckled against your skin. “Everything,” he said, eager to explore the plethora of licentious scenarios running through his mind with you.

You moaned as he sucked a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. “I like the sound of that.”

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

“Y’know… I’d always imagined coming here with a cute girl on my arm, taking her around to all the games and winning her stuffed toys before ending the night on this Ferris wheel.” Cloud rolled his eyes, crossing his arms tighter against his chest to hide the discomfort and seething jealous roiling beneath.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Zack looked at him from across the booth, eyes wide before his hands were shooting up in front of him, shaking them as he also shook his head.

“Wait no! That came out wrong! I didn’t mean anything by it!” Cloud raised a brow toward him for a brief moment before huffing, turning to watch the seemingly endless fireworks instead.

“Whatever.” He could hear Zack shuffling on the seat, looking as if he were stuck between deciding to get up or stay seated. The last time he’d gotten up he’d knocked the table in the middle, sending them spinning for an uncomfortably long time.

The other man sighed after a long moment, scratching the back of his neck as he also looked away, “I just meant. Dreams can change a lot over time. Once upon a time mine was to become a SOLDIER and get a cute girlfriend from the city.”

Cloud relaxed a little, eyes softening as he hummed out a vague noise. He did actually know about that. He’d dreamt of the same thing once after all. Granted, he’d had his heart pretty set on Tifa back then. Determined to become some hotshot SOLDIER and come riding back into town to sweep her off her feet.

The thought was equal parts amusing and embarrassing when he looked at it now, quietly wondering how he’d missed the blaring signs of his attraction to a certain first class for so damn long.

Zack smiled a little toward him, this one more reserved and timid than the usual ones he let loose, “Now my dreams are different, and I reckon I’m pretty damn close to maybe, hopefully, achieving one of them.”

Cloud fought down the rabid hope in his chest, tilting his head in such a Zack move that he had to fight not to correct it, lest he draw even more attention to it.

“What do you mean?” The other man smiled a little wider, shuffling over on his seat until he was clear of the turn table before walking over to sit on the same bench as Cloud. The blond followed him with his eyes, turning to face him better when he did sit.

“I mean, I don’t dream of having a cute girlfriend from the city anymore, and even though I didn’t have a cute girl to win plush toys for today.”

Cloud snorted, stealing a quick glance at the heinously big Chocobo sitting by their swords in the corner, before focusing on Zack once more. Who had - at some point - shuffled right in against Cloud, their thighs now touching as a hand came up to brush against his bangs lightly.

“I had a beautifully feisty merc that gave me a run for my money at every turn, and he fits into my new dream perfectly.” Cloud could feel the heat spill across his cheeks, mouth dropping open in a quiet gasp as Zack closed the distance between them.

It’d be so terribly sappy and horrible for Cloud to describe the feeling of finally - finally - kissing Zack as fireworks going off. But considering the very real ones still erupting behind him, he felt it justified that he did.

The older man pulled away, just enough to speak in a lightly amused but kind of scared tone, “That is, if he wants to?”

Cloud huffed out a fond laugh, hand coming up to grip one of the others shoulder straps, “Maybe you should’ve asked that before you kissed him.”

He didn’t give Zack time to respond though, pulling him back in with his grip. The older man went easily enough, practically falling against Cloud and pushing him into the wall of the cabin, hands eager and determined as one slid through his hair and the other ran down his side.

A Ferris wheel cabin wasn’t exactly the most ideal place to be making out with the guy you’d been crushing on - and madly in love with - for who knows how long but Cloud felt he deserved this at least. Just for the moment.

[steviewashere]

WIP Word Game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share on sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thank you for the tag @ataliagold this is honestly one of my favorite tag games I've ever played with. My word is WHUMP.

The following "little" excerpts/sentences are from three separate places: Steve sick with the flu (a wip that still has no name), my steddie college roommates au (that also has no name), and one where Eddie's dealing with his survivor's guilt after vecna/chrissy's death (another steddie wip without a name, are we surprised). Also, apologies for such giant excerpts, oops.

Under the cut because they're so long <3 (also heed the content warning on the letter "M")

———

W - (Steddie college roommates au)

“Was on the varsity team in high school, one of the—not to be cocky—best pitchers in the region. But I’ve been hit in the head too many times by baseballs. And I absolutely decimated several muscles and ligaments just running the bases. Few broken bones here and there. Collarbone that never set right.” At that last one, Eddie marks the sobering seriousness in his tone. But then, Steve looks over his shoulder, mirth in his eyes—that seriousness from before here and gone in a breath—and grins. “I’m a cautionary tale,” he mock-whispers.

H - (Eddie's survivor's guilt)

He takes a deep breath. Admits, “I don’t know how to stop feeling…guilty.” There’s silence for a few seconds. Then, “You didn’t know that was going to happen.” “Yeah, but I”—he heaves a deep, unrelenting sigh—“I feel like…I feel…Feel like this all could’ve been prevented, y’know? Maybe I should’ve…I didn’t need to bring her back home. I didn’t need to—The deal was only supposed to be for marijuana.” “I know,” Steve murmurs. His voice takes on this…careful quality. Like he’s tiptoeing around shards of glass. “You’ve told”— “And I was going to sell her only weed. In fact, I didn’t even…I couldn’t even justify selling to her to begin with. She was all jumpy and off-guard and cagey. Like she didn’t trust me. Or like…like she was seeing something that wasn’t there.” Steve stares at him for a moment. Leaving the words to float, stagnant and uncomfortable between them. He turns to the dining table under the window, hefts the kitchen box down to the floor, gestures for Eddie to sit—so he does—and then takes his own seat across. His eyes roam over Eddie’s face, gentle and too soft to make sense. “We know that now,” he states softly, “but you didn’t know that then. You didn’t know what was wrong. You trusted her word and that’s…it’s okay that you didn’t know, Ed.” “But what if I could’ve prevented it?” he asks, words bursting from within him, “what if I…I saw the signs that something was wrong and took that and ran with it and told her, firmly and sure, no. What if I told her…What if I had just—just offered a shoulder or a hug or maybe we could’ve smoked weed in my van during lunch and she could’ve listened to my radio and we could’ve talked about music and she…what if she told me all the things I want to know now, but she told me when I would’ve needed it?”

U - (Steve with the flu)

“Uh…yeah, Steve, we have to. You’ve barely had anything to eat or drink. You need something before this shit gets even worse than where it’s at right now. Plus, sweetheart, drinking something like Gatorade will probably make your symptoms better.” Steve huffs. “But the flavor I have left is so gross.” “I can go get you something else, baby,” Eddie offers gently. “Just need you to drink a little something. Start on the flavor you don’t like while I’m at the store, and I’ll pick-up some that you do like. Maybe that’ll spur you on to get your fluid intake, yeah?” “You sound like a doctor, Eds. It’s kinda cute,” Steve teases. “I sound like somebody who’s been really sick before and hates seeing you sicker. Just promise me you’ll drink a little bit?” To add to it, Eddie holds out his left pinkie. Steve wraps his right around Eddie’s, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’ll have a few sips of the orange flavored one, as long as you pick up a few fruit punch Gatorades.”

M - (Steddie college roommates AU) CW for Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Homophobia (so skip this one if you don't want any of that)

“My dad knows the kind of person I am, okay? If he finds out that I’m with you, he’ll assume you’re like me. And I don’t want you to get hurt…or worse. This is between my dad and I. Not your uncle. Especially not you.” Slowly, “What do you mean, Steve?” Eddie asks. Immediately, a part of him seems to know the severity, the weight of that question. Something sinks heavier and heavier inside of him. Steve levels him with a tired, distraught stare. He takes in a slow breath. Lips floundering for a moment. That unwavering conviction from their first day makes a resound return. “I’m gay.” And as if a microphone was put on those two words, the sound reverberates through the room. “He found out years ago, when I was still in high school. After I broke up with my one and only girlfriend, I had told her pretty privately that I wasn’t into women…that I think I had just liked her kindness, y’know? And I don’t…don’t know what exactly happened, but somehow word got around to my dad. And…” He trails. Time seems to pause. And when Steve takes another deep, cautious breath, it slows in painfully tense fragments. Quietly, “You remember how I said that my collarbone doesn’t sit right?”

P - (Steve has the flu, but with a line of dialogue in here that I've already shared because who cares)

“Please,” he says quietly, “‘m too dizzy to do it by myself.” Hands are already gently rolling down the waistband of his underwear. Eddie’s speaking softly to him, “I’m gonna getcha into the tub, put the trashcan next to you, let you soak for a bit while I take care of the blanket”— “Just throw it away, Ed.” Eddie gives a small nod. “Okay,” he murmurs, “and then I’ll be right back in here to help you clean up.”

Tagging, no pressure:

@scoops-aboy86 @sidekick-hero @marvel-ous-m @hotluncheddie @queenie-ofthe-void

@werepuppy-steve @ataliagold (why not throw it right back lol)

Your word is: BAND

[milflewis]

trick or treaaaat ❤️ - also a glass of milk for ur hangover🥛

It isn’t until 2017 that Sebastian has a problem with Michael flirting with Lewis.

Michael isn’t at the track for the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. He doesn’t go to many of the races anymore. He hears about it from Niki.

Sebastian calls him after he has seen the data. He’s gone all quiet, voice distorted like he is pressing the phone against his mouth.

It takes Michael a minute to understand what is going on.

“So you’re saying Lewis has forgiven you?”

An inhale. “Yes.”

“Okay. So. Why are you still upset?”

A harsh exhale. “Because he forgave me!”

“Right.”

And then: "I still don't get it."

Another exhale, breath whooshing. The sound comes out all crackly. It is the most defeated Sebastian has ever sounded. "He just — you had to see him. His face. I hurt him when I said those things. That he brake-tested. To him, it was worse I said this, I think. Worse than hitting into him."

Michael had dismissed Lewis when he first properly met him. He had noticed how fast he was, how quick on the corners and the way he managed his tires, and thought: huh. He'd then had a conversation with him, a handful of years later, and well — Michael has never really enjoyed looking in the mirror now has he? That gets boring fast.

But he's not — like Michael that is. Not completely. Not overwhelmingly. Just enough of himself that he's interesting.

Lewis doesn't like being accused of cheating. He's not the cleanest of drivers by far, even if he has tightened up his act in recent years. Michael doesn't have a line — or so he's been told. He never really thought about it before they shoved a microphone in his face and asked him to justify racing that everyone could be doing if they wanted to.

Michael exists on the extremes, threading the edges of things.

Lewis does not. Lewis cannot.

Michael isn't sure exactly what that line is - where the things he does starts and where the things he does not do ends - but he knows that inside Lewis there is a carefully bound book that has been read over and over, and written on its cover in Lewis's blocky handwriting is: RULES.

Being accused of cheating would be one terrible thing to Lewis. Being accused of cheating by Sebastian would be quite another.

From the sounds of it, Sebastian is starting to realise that Lewis considers him his Mika.

"I hurt him," Sebastian says, sounding very small. "I've never done that before. I didn't know I could."

"Yeah," Michael says, because he has nothing left to say but Sebastian is leaving space for him to speak. "You can. You're one of the few who can."

"And then he just forgave me! Like that! I said sorry and I said I was wrong and I said — other things — and he looked at me with The Face." Sebastian curses. "The only thing he says — listen to me now, Michael — the only thing — the one thing, he says is: are you going to tell everyone this?"

Michael hums. He kicks off his runners and stretches out his toes.

"And I say: yes, of course. I was waiting to talk to you. But I will. I was going to. And he just — ugh! He just smiles at me and -"

"Forgives you?"

"This is not funny."

Michael rolls his eyes, grinning. "Okay."

"It's not! He — fuck's sake. What am I supposed to do with this? That's all it took. All. Nothing at all. I want to break something. What do I do?"

Michael shrugs even though Sebastian cannot see him. "You love him. This is what Mika told me."

Sebastian is very quiet for a long moment. Michael would think he hung up on him if not for the sound of his breathing.

"Mika," he says eventually, voice strange. "Right. I forgot about your Thing with Lewis."

Michael doesn't say anything.

"You have to be careful with him, Michael. You have to. Promise me. This matters."

Michael rolls his eyes again. He thinks about telling Sebastian that a person only has enough room in their body for one Mika and Michael isn't Lewis's, and Lewis isn't Michael's, so it is okay. Michael can only do so much damage. He thinks about telling him that he made Lewis laugh — actually full belly, bent over double laugh — and Lewis's hand was warm and heavy on his shoulder. He snorted at the end, hiccuping, and it was a ridiculous sound for a person to make. Michael can't wait to hear it again. He thinks about telling him that sometimes he is the fifth, sixth — tenth — person that Lewis notices when he walks into a crowded room. Michael dreads the day that he isn't seen at all.

"I know," he goes with instead.

"Promise me." Sebastian sounds almost angry.

Michael looks at the ceiling. You're so young, he thinks.

"Promise," he says.

[kybercrystals94]

The Stardust Conspiracy (Part 3)

Read on Ao3 here!

(Part 1 & Part 2)

Rated: G | Words: 2331 | Summary: A change in perspective as the space hamster debacle continues

Tech felt a little remorseful that he had sent the squad away, self-inflicted loneliness striking an uncomfortable chord. After an hour of quiet and contemplation, Tech considered checking in and perhaps seeing if he could join them. After all, it was a rarity to have unallocated time available, especially planet-side. And the repairs to be made were simple enough that they could wait a few hours. However, guilt made him put down his comm and set about the tasks he had claimed to want to do in solitude.

The others arrived back sooner than he expected. A hush surrounded them. Likely because of his poor behavior earlier, and not wanting to disturb him further. He sighed, preparing for the unpleasant sensation that accompanied an apology. However, as he got up to leave the cockpit, Hunter came in and stopped him short.

“Tech,” Hunter said, “How are the repairs going?”

It wasn’t the question itself that gave Tech pause. Rather, it was the tone. Almost conversational.

Tech hesitated another moment. “Just about finished,” he answered.

“Good, good.” Hunter nodded. His form leaned against the doorway, preventing Tech from going through without asking Hunter to step aside.

Tech could hear the others, even Wrecker, quietly moving around the main area, voices low enough that he could not make out distinct dialogue. It reminded him of his original intentions, Hunter’s uncharacteristic conduct aside. Tech stepped forward, but Hunter, still firmly planted, asked, “Need any help?”

This only solidified the oddness of the situation. Not that Hunter never had or never could help...however, he was the least qualified of the squad for ship repairs as a rule. Even Omega was better equipped for such tasks. Tech quirked an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Tech did not claim to be emotionally intelligent by any means; however, the awkward expression that flashed across Hunter’s face was stark enough that even Tech could comprehend. His heart sank a little, and he realized that his presence must not be wanted at the moment—at least not from Wrecker or Echo, the targets of his disdain earlier in the day. Omega must have been upset with him as well, justifiably so.

His expression evidently revealed something, because Hunter softened. “Nothing’s wrong,” he assured Tech genuinely. “I just thought that if we finished up the repairs, we could go back into town for late meal. Not often we can do that.”

While something was obviously still amiss, Tech pushed the uncertainty aside. Whatever it was would pass. After all, they were indicating that his presence was desired for the evening meal, which logically meant that any previous offenses could and would be smoothed over effectively. Releasing a breath of relief, Tech took Hunter up on his unexpected offer to help with repairs.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

They’d found a respectable eating establishment with outdoor seating, although the table was a little more compact than Tech would have liked. He had Wrecker’s bulk on one side of him and Omega’s slight frame on his other. Wrecker’s personal space, as usual, lacked any depth, and he gestured widely to explain every detail of their outing earlier in the day. Tech had to duck or dodge several swings of Wrecker’s arm as he gave an exaggerated account of the marketplace.

“...and then,” Wrecker said, his voice taking on a fond tone, “we found a pet store.”

Omega bounced in her seat, eager to take over the story. “We saw all sorts of animals, Tech!”

“And we got--” Wrecker began, but his sentence was cut short by a pained squawk. “Hey! Why’d you kick me?”

Tech looked across the table to where Echo and Hunter sat. Echo glanced at Hunter, and, if looks could kill, Hunter would have murdered Wrecker on the spot. How strange.

Echo rolled his eyes. “You were saying you got to hold a tooka kitten?” he prompted Wrecker.

Wrecker glared at Hunter but allowed Echo to persuade him back to the conversation. “Yeah, that’s what I was saying, Hunter. I wasn’t gonna say anything about...”

The toe of a military boot met smartly against Tech’s shin. Tech yelped, both in surprise and pain. “Why are you kicking me?” he asked Hunter, appalled.

Hunter’s mouth fell open and the color of crimson flooded across his face. “I didn’t mean...”

“You were gonna kick me again, weren’t you?” bellowed Wrecker, indignant, even though it was Tech’s shin that had been assaulted.

“How about,” Echo said diplomatically, as though dealing with very small children, “we don’t kick anyone under the table, and let Wrecker finish his story.”

Properly admonished, Hunter muttered an apology in Tech’s general direction, but kept his focus on his meal, eye contact carefully avoided.

Tech wanted an explanation; however, Echo effectively steered them away from further discussion. He pressed Wrecker to talk further about the tookas, asked Omega’s opinion on the kittens, and then moved on to other topics. Tech distantly wondered if there might be a tooka kitten somewhere on the ship. However, he couldn’t imagine Hunter allowing such a thing. Space travel was no life for a tooka.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Tech took the first watch. It didn’t take long for his siblings to settle down and fall asleep, the Marauder falling into wonted stillness that came with a night cycle. He tapped away at his data pad for a while, researching some adjustments he wanted to eventually make to the hyperdrive when they had the extra credits for parts.

A small sound interrupted his concentration, and he looked up. His first thought was that Omega was up, as she often did when she couldn’t sleep. They’d spent many early night hours together, watching the stars or hyperspace until her eyes were heavy and he guided her back to her room. However, the sound was far too small for even Omega. It was also incessant and unfamiliar. Tech liked to think that he knew what sort of sounds his ship made. This sound was not one of them.

Standing, he stretched out his limbs and back before he walked silently down the hall to the area of the nav computer. His eyes fell immediately to a glass and metal contraption tucked snugly in what used to be an open space next to the console. Through the glass, he saw a thick layer of wood shavings and brightly colored objects strewn throughout. There was a watering system hung to the side, and a dish.

“What in the stars...” Tech breathed, crouching to investigate further.

A criceto suddenly popped up and out of the shavings, golden fur tinted blue in the night cycle lighting. The creature saw him and approached the wall of its cage on slow, curious steps. It stood on its hind feet, putting its front paws on the glass, and Tech could see the pads of its tiny fingers. Tech didn’t normally find himself endeared to animals of any sort. However, he found himself sighing out an appreciative, “Awww.”

He considered a moment before he carefully opened the door of the cage and put his hand in, some distance from the criceto so as not to startle it. The rodent turned its head, nose quivering as it assessed Tech’s scent. Dropping to all fours, it made its way to his hand and poked his palm with its nose. Tech flattened his hand, palm up, and without much hesitation at all, the criceto climbed up, light as a pinch of stuffing from Lula.

Lifting it out, Tech held the animal close to his face, his breath ruffling its downy fur. “You must be who I should thank for my bruised shin,” he whispered. It was silly to speak to such a thing as though it has any capability to understand; however, the criceto stared at him wisely, whiskers twitching with a sageness worthy of a jedi.

The criceto sniffed the air, turning its head to take in its surroundings. Maybe it was hungry? It had food in its dish; however, perhaps what was left wasn’t its preference. Tech closed his fingers slightly around the animal to prevent it being dropped or escaping before he began to search for its food. He found everything tucked in a crate under the cage. There was a bag labeled Criceto Treats. He wonders if his siblings had already given the animal its allotment of treats for the day; however, a few more seeds would not harm it, he was sure.

He took out a small handful of seeds, one pinched between his index finger and thumb to offer it to the criceto. It took it eagerly, expectantly. It expertly tucked the seed away in its cheek pouch. With tiny, reaching hands, it tried to open Tech’s hand that was closed over the remainder of the treats. Cricetos, Tech knew, were incredibly intelligent; however, seeing the natural behavior in real life somehow felt gratifyingly surprising. Tech opened his hand, and the criceto plucked the seeds up one by one, each being stowed away to be stashed somewhere in its bedding later.

Tech had not realized how much he’d wanted a pet criceto until this moment. Not to mention, a pet was an excellent learning tool for adolescents. Tech approved wholeheartedly, although, he admitted to himself, he might not have that morning when his siblings set out.

After he granted the criceto a few more seeds, he returned it to its cage. He made sure the door was latched tightly. He had not done in-depth research yet on cricetos, but his limited knowledge on the subject made him well aware of their ability to escape enclosures.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Tech decided an experiment was called for. Obviously, his brothers did not want him to know about their new pet. At first, he had been a little offended by the deception. But now, he saw an opportunity. How long could he let his brothers believe they were keeping a secret? How long before they felt inclined by their own power to tell him?

The limited parameters of his experiment in place, Tech began.

Through snatches of eavesdropped conversations, Tech learned that the criceto’s name was Stardust. An apt name, given the color of her fur. However, overall, the other members of the Batch managed to keep the matter of Stardust close to the chest.

A standard week later, Tech was finally settled into his sleep cycle when he heard the sound of the bunkroom door sliding open. He pressed his face more firmly into his pillow, trying to ignore the disruption. That’s when he heard Hunter’s voice say, Cockpit. Now.

Curiosity would be his downfall eventually, Tech knew, but he peeked out with one eye as the blurry figure of Hunter strode out of the room, followed a few seconds later by a grumbling Echo. Giving his brothers ample time to arrive at their destination, Tech slipped from his bunk as silently as a shadow and snatched his goggles from their hook.

As he approached the cockpit, Tech heard the conversation begin.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stardust is missing.”

Tech looked down at the cage, the door carelessly flung open. Probably left as such after being – hopefully – adequately checked by Omega and Hunter.

“Can’t you, uhm, you know, track her?” A meaningful pause. “I see. So much for enhancements, huh?”

“Listen, I’ve never had to track something that small before. And that little thing has been everywhere on this ship! I tracked her going into wall panels, coming out of wall panels, going in circles, doubling back...”

A rare sound burst out from the stoic cyborg: laughter. Tech smiled, his own mirth at Hunter’s plight – despite Tech’s own worry for the criceto - threatened to give him away.

“Echo, it isn’t funny!”

Echo’s continued laughter verged on hysterical, and Tech wondered if his brother was able to breathe at all.

“If you aren’t going to be helpful, you can leave.”

Echo’s gasping became semi regulated. “I’m sorry! I’ll help. I just...” His words were dissolved by more laughter.

Omega giggled, her voice lighter than before. “It is kind of funny.”

“Fine. But we really do need to figure this out.”

Tech knew his moment had arrived, and he stepped into the doorway of the cockpit. “Figure what out?”

Tech did not have time to fully appreciate the look of horror on Hunter’s face, nor the mute surprise on Echo’s. Omega was the only one who looked remotely unscathed by his appearance.

“Nothing,” Echo said, “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Tech tried to look annoyed. “If you didn’t mean to disturb me, you wouldn’t have been laughing so loudly. And in that vein, what did you find so humorous?”

“Nothing,” Echo said again. Obviously, a drowsy Echo was much less adept at lying.

Tech gave each of his siblings a hard and meaningful look. “Fine but do keep it down.”

Omega did not need a moment to recover, and easily offered a purposely poorly executed salute. “Yes, sir!”

Tech allowed himself a grin before he turned and left his siblings to their own devices. Meanwhile, Tech spent the rest of his sleep cycle researching ways to find a runaway criceto.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The next morning when Tech discovered that Stardust was still MIA, he decided to put some of his learned methods of criceto entrapment to use. He could tell through discreet observation that Hunter, Echo, and Omega were still on the lookout, so he had to be discreet in his own efforts.

Using a downloaded criceto whistle at a pitch even Hunter would not be able to hear with his enhanced senses – or, frankly, his enhanced distraction – Tech was able to lure Stardust out of hiding and into his hand full of the tempting promise of abundant treats. He kept her tucked in one of the pouches on his belt until the others were adequately distracted in another part of the ship. Then, he put her back in her cage and waited for what he knew would be a shocking discovery.

It was everything he hoped for.

TBC

Up Next: Secret knowledge is revealed…

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[phillippadgettwrites]

The First Time, Every Time: Deep Throat

Rated X / 1451 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder knocks firmly on her door three times. Okay, maybe it’s more of a pound than a knock, but it’s justified.

He’s pissed. No, enraged. He’s fucking furious, namely because he knew from the start that he shouldn’t trust her, but he stupidly let her wide blue eyes and pouty mouth lull him into a false sense of security. His father always told him to watch out for the pretty ones, and for once he’s seeing value in the cold-hearted bastard’s advice.

His jaw is sore from clenching his teeth, and there are little half-moon indents on the meaty parts of his palms from his balled-up fists. If she were a man, he’d hit her. He’d knock her ass halfway to Sunday and never look back. Her car is parked outside but she’s still not answering, and his anger begins to boil over. He lifts his arm and knocks again.

The door flies open and she appears on the other side, regarding him with shock and concern. She’s bare-faced, and she’s tying a fluffy white bathrobe around her waist. She’s so fucking small, so soft, and he feels his anger begin to wane. But then he remembers, and it comes charging right back.

“Mulder, what’s wrong?” she asks, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. “How do you know where I live?”

She’d be pissed if he told her how he got her address, and there’s no room for her anger right now. This is about him. He stalks into her pristine kitchen and wheels around, holding up the rumpled field report in his shaking fist.

“What the fuck is this, Scully?” He barks at her, and she flinches but quickly recovers, then steps forward and takes the paper from his hand, giving it a cursory glance.

“It appears to be my field report on the Budahas case,” she says calmly, handing it back to him.

Mulder snatches it from her and crumples it up, then tosses it into her immaculate living room. Her apartment looks like a fucking magazine. She cocks an eyebrow at him and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Is there a problem with my field report, Agent Mulder?” she asks haughtily.

She’s not even remotely intimidated by him, and it makes him want to punch something. He takes two steps toward her, attempting to leverage his height, but she only lifts her eyes to his face, not even giving him the gratification of craning her neck up to look at him.

“Special Agent Mulder’s insistence that Budahas may have been a test pilot on a top secret project involving aircraft using recovered UFO technology, and may have suffered severe stress related trauma by flying these aircraft, is inconclusive,” he recites from memory, spitting the words at her.

Scully sighs and slowly rolls her neck to the side, leveling him with an exasperated stare. He can smell her, the perfume she wears at work and something else that’s fruity, maybe lotion. She smells good.

“Are you of the opinion that my field report is inaccurate?” she asks, emotionless.

“You were there, you know what we saw!” he shouts, pointing off to the side as though indicating that the lights in the sky are now hovering around her foyer. “You just don’t want to admit it!”

“There’s nothing to admit, Mulder,” she says sternly, raising her voice ever so slightly. “What we saw was some flashing lights in the sky. Flashing lights does not a UFO make.”

“You know as well as I do that there was something in that hangar, Scully! Just because I can’t remember it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist!”

“And it doesn’t mean that it does!” she throws back, and he has the sudden confusing realization that he’s hard.

He stares at her. At her freckled cheeks and ocean irises. Her blonde eyelashes and that little mole over her lip that she tries to cover with makeup. He wants to hate her so fucking bad, but he doesn’t. He normally convinces himself that he doesn’t care whether anyone believes him, but he cares whether she does.

Her eyes narrow slightly and her lips part as though she’s preparing to speak, but he doesn’t give her a chance to. He takes one more step forward and grabs both sides of her pretty face, registering her surprised gasp before he covers her mouth with his. One second, two, three. He finally pulls away with a huff, and she gapes at him, stunned.

He waits for the sting of her slap, and the subsequent banishment from her apartment—and perhaps her life. Her eyes dart down to his groin and then back to his face, and then her tongue peeks out and flashes across her bottom lip, wet and red. He wants to taste it. He wants to know what it would feel like on his lips. He re-enters her space and kisses her again.

She is surprisingly acquiescent to his advance. She kisses him back this time, and he tastes the tart bite of wine on her tongue. She doesn’t stop him when he pulls the tie on her robe loose, revealing remarkably matronly silk pajamas. She’s such a fucking enigma, he doesn’t know what to make of her. Is she a school marm or a sex kitten? A friend or a foe? Maybe she’s everything. Maybe that’s why he can’t stop thinking about her.

She’s nude under her pajamas, and he happily fills in the details of what was obscured by those little bra and panties back in Bellefleur. She eagerly unbuttons his jeans, and he wonders how long it’s been since she fucked someone. For him, it’s been a long time. He hoists her up onto the arm of her couch and pushes her legs open, stealing a look at the red slash of her cunt before she pulls his shirt off over his head. He’s so fucking angry, so fucking turned on, so fucking afraid of what they’re doing. He runs the head of his cock up and down over her slick folds, then pushes into her.

Scully makes a sharp sound that stills him, and he feels her cunt beating around him like the tell tale heart.

“We should use a condom,” she says, more of an observation than an admonishment.

“Do you have one?” he asks, flexing the muscles in his thighs to keep from thrusting.

“No,” she says, breathless. “It’s okay, I’m on birth control. Just…don’t come inside me.”

“I won’t,” he promises, then experimentally withdraws a little and rocks forward.

Scully whimpers, and the sound makes his balls tighten. He wants to fuck her so hard she can’t speak, can’t tell him all the reasons he’s wrong, can’t make him want her approval so badly. But he doesn’t want to hurt her, her body or her feelings. He’s all mixed up and he can’t figure out how to feel.

He does fuck her, but not angrily. She’s so small, and soft, but she’s also powerful and dauntless. She held a man at gunpoint for him, stole a vehicle. She probably saved his life. He wants to hate her, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

“Oh, I’m gonna come,” she whispers, and he feels the strangling grip of her as she unravels around him. He waits as long as he responsibly can, teeters as close to the edge as he dares before he pulls out and grips himself, using her wetness as lubricant as he jerks himself off and spurts a milky streak of cum across her belly.

He steps away from her, his jeans still bunched up around his ankles, and she wordlessly slips off the couch and disappears into her bathroom, collecting her robe and pajamas on the way. He dresses and sits at her dining room table, and when she re-emerges a few minutes later she is all business.

“I take it you’d like me to make some changes,” she says casually, retrieving the balled-up field report from the living room floor and smoothing it out with the edge of the table. “I won’t put my name to anything that’s untrue or intentionally misleading, but if there’s something you’d prefer that I omit, I’m willing to consider it.”

He looks at her, stunned by her sudden change in demeanor. Her lips are slightly swollen and he can see the beginnings of beard-burn on her chin, but if not for that, he might think he imagined it.

“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head once to clear it. “There are a couple parts I’m hoping you’ll make changes to.”

She meets his eye and hands him a pen.

“Make some notes and I’ll look at it in the morning.”

[gwenbrightly]

(Re)Building the Future chapter 5

“She called me a monster,” Roxy says, backing away from the unconscious child. How can she justify being anywhere near Cassie after that?

“Roxy, I'm sure she didn't mean it,” Eclipse tries to comfort her. She doesn't seem to hear him.

“I mean, I know I can be a little competitive and maybe I'm moody sometimes but…” the wolf trails off. The thought of frightening a kid that badly hurts more than she'd like to admit.

“Sometimes?” Helpy repeats sardonically. A glare at the monitor he's hanging out on from Eclipse is all it takes to shut him up.

“Maybe she wasn't even talking to you. She could have been hallucinating. Those Moondrop candies are such powerful things and we did give her more than one serving size,” Eclipse suggests, frowning thoughtfully. Maybe giving Cassie the candies hadn't been such a good idea after all. One or two candies at nap time has never been a problem (for most kids, anyway). But they’ve given her way more than one or two. Probably more like one dozen. Or two. Suddenly, Eclipse finds himself wondering if they've given Cassie permanent brain damage on top of her damaged limbs… Oh Fizzy Faz, this poor kid!

“Honestly, I think you're both being over dramatic here,” Helpy announces with an eye roll. Okay, so maybe he’s being a bit harsh. But the constant panicking of everyone around him the past 24 hours has gotten old. Roxy looks like she’d like to strangle him (too bad), while Eclipse doesn’t look phased by his comment. Huh. Must be a theater thing…

“It’s not like this is the end of the world,” he continues.

“How would you know?” Roxy mutters, still offended. It does feel a little like the end of the world to her. All the Fazbear animatronics, herself included, are meant to bring joy to children, after all. Not strike fear into their hearts. Even if there has been the odd parent complaint in the past. Those are usually brought on by some Karen and her spoiled offspring not getting exactly what they want, when they want it, anyway. Oh, how she misses the days where the wrong flavor of birthday cake was their biggest worry. Everything has been so… broken lately…

“Easy. I see the bigger picture,” Helpy tells her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks. Well, more like growls, but who’s keeping track of semantics?

“Roxy, Roxy, Roxy,” He says as though talking to a confused child, “think for a minute. Where did you get those horrifyingly outdated eyes from, again?”

“… oh…” Roxy brings her good hand up to her face in horror. Of course Cassie would remember the way it’s eyes looked in her first moments of consciousness. They had probably been one of the last things she’d seen before… How could she be so stupid?

“Now you’re getting it! Yeah, you should probably find some sunglasses or something,” Helpy suggests. He’s not cruel enough to suggest she remove the eyes just yet if there’s another (possibly more entertaining) solution.

“I’m sorry, can we back up for a second, please?” Eclipse interrupts, thoroughly confused by the direction this conversation has taken. “Where did Roxy get her new eyes? Am I missing something?”

“Oh, didn’t she tell you? Roxy stole em off of It during her epic battle royale earlier. No biggie!” Helpy explains casually. He’s actually pretty impressed by the way she had ripped them clean out of their sockets, truth be told.

“Roxy, did what?!”

/////

“Can’t this car go any faster?” Gregory asks, anxiously staring out the window. Usually he’s fine with the half hour drive between his new home and the Pizzaplex. Usually there’s no reason to go anywhere near it and having a bit of space from the place they almost died (multiple times!) is a good thing. Usually-

“Gregory, I’m already driving over the speed limit,” Vanessa tells him, making a sharp turn. There’s a bump as the car goes over the curb. “If I go any faster, we’ll get pulled over for sure, which will not help our situation!”

Gregory groans in disgust. Why does Vanessa have to be a responsible adult at a time like this? Cassie needs them!

“She has a point, Superstar,” Freddy observes apologetically.

Ugh. Two responsible adults are even worse than one.

“I bet if you let me drive, we could-” Gregory starts in innocently.

“There is no way I’m doing that. I’d like to live a little longer, thank you very much,” Vanessa cuts him off. The lack of faith in his driving abilities is so unfair. She has no proof that he’d get them all killed. Roxy being maimed the last time he ‘drove’ a vehicle wasn’t even really his fault (she’d had it coming)!

“Not to mention, you are far too short to legally sit in the front seat,” Freddy adds. Bold words for a bot that was built by a company with more OSHA violations than an oil spill.

“Freddy. Vanessa. Cmon, you guys… This is an emergency!” Gregory pleads. Vanessa ignores his puppy eyes, even though she can clearly see in the rear view mirror. Freddy doesn’t seem affected by it either. Can’t they hear Cassie’s screams ringing in their ears, too? Don’t they understand the gravity of the situation?

“We want to help Cassie just as much as you do,” Freddy tells him, sensing his rising fear, “but let’s save the reckless endangerment for once we’ve arrived at the Pizzaplex.”

“I’d be good with avoiding it there, too,” Vanessa mutters. What a killjoy. She slams on the brakes to avoid going through the red light up ahead, making Gregory momentarily grateful Vanessa made sure he was wearing his seatbelt before they left (for about five seconds before remembering that he’s supposed to be annoyed with her).

The light takes forever to change back to green, and by the time it does, Gregory has begun anxiously doodling with his fingers on the window. The Fazcraft logo, a cow being abducted by aliens, Freddy in a cowboy hat, a duck with a clump of grapes, a FizzyFazz soda can, a frowny face. He’ll probably be stuck cleaning the marks off the windows later, but at least it gives him something to do besides worrying. Another frowny face. And another. Okay, maybe this isn’t working so good.

“Hey, look. It'll only be a few more minutes. Just hang in there,” Vanessa says when she notices his poor attempt to distract himself.

“Thank goodness. I’m running out of things to draw,” Gregory admits. And draws another frowny face. Because that feels easier than mentioning that every second he’s stuck in this car is another second that Cassie could be laying somewhere dying. Or dead. No- bad idea. Definitely don’t think about it like that. Giving up on his window art, Gregory stares out the window at the darkening sky for the rest of the drive. He’s out of his seat before Vanessa has even parked the car.

He races over to the entrance. It’s not looking so hot. The light of the full moon illuminates boarded up windows and scaffolding. The obnoxiously bright neon lights and signs he remembers from previous visits are all gone now. Broken glass litters the ground in more than one place. If the inside looks as bad as the outside, it’s a miracle that Cassie didn’t get taken down by tetanus long before it got to her. Freddy and Vanessa come to a stop next to him, similarly taken in by the scene.

“Well, I think I know how Cassie got in,” Vanessa muses just as Gregory is about to suggest using Freddy as a battering ram (there isn’t an obvious entry point at the moment and it’s not like it would hurt Freddy). She points a flashlight towards a child sized opening in the newspapered glass on one of the upper levels of scaffolding.

“Guess we better get climbing, then,” Gregory announces, one foot already on a ladder rung.

——

Footnote: If you have never watched a 350 pound animatronic bear try to climb construction scaffolding, you should know that it is simultaneously hilarious and painful to do so.

Freddy’s efforts are valiant, but it’s safe to say that if Fazbear Entertainment ever decides to finish repairing the Pizzaplex (which, let’s face it, they won’t), they’re going to need a whole new set of ladders, platforms, and railings. Flat surfaces? Haven’t heard of them. Dents and awkward slants are totally in now. Also, that hole in the glass has always been that size… why do you ask?

Gregory and Vanessa try to hide their entertainment at Freddy’s suffering, they really do. But in the end, they can’t help but share a moment of laughter as he clatters down the final ladder and onto the floor inside the Pizzaplex. Freddy pauses to glare at the contraption before joining them, acting as though it was placed there specifically to inconvenience him.

“Take this before we go any further,” Vanessa says, handing Gregory one of the flashlights she’d packed before they left (along with a first aid kit and several other items she thought they might end up needing). She isn’t too worried about Freddy, what with him still having Roxy’s upgraded eyes, but Gregory is already a tad accident prone without blindly stumbling through a pitch black space filled with deadly objects. She’d really appreciate it if they make it through the rest of the evening (or however long they end up stuck in this hell hole) without anyone else getting hurt and/or trapped somewhere.

Gregory waves the flashlight around like a lightsaber, nearly blinding Vanessa. She briefly considers legally changing his middle name to ‘Distractible’, but decides that it’s not worth the effort. The flashlight beam bounces off an assortment of debris, construction equipment, deactivated floor bots, cleaning supplies, and several spray paint messages left behind by previous trespassers.

“Wow…” Gregory comments, looking around the ruined lobby, “they’ve really let this place go.”

“You can say that again,” Vanessa agrees.

“They have really let this place go,” Freddy repeats, taking her literally. “I am a bit disappointed that Corporate would neglect things like this.”

“It is kinda sad,” Gregory agrees. The Pizzaplex used to be so impressive (Fazbear Entertainment had clearly put a lot of time and money into the place) and now it looks like the setting for a post apocalyptic thriller. He remembers being a little in awe the first time he saw the giant golden statue in the lobby. But now, especially after everything he’s been through, the place gives him the creeps. The things that have happened here are not worthy of any awe. Probably just anger and disgust, along with a healthy dose of fear.

“So, uh, question,” he says, not wanting to dwell on his lingering trauma, “how exactly do we get,well, anywhere in this mess?” There’s a gaping hole in the floor directly in front of them. Shipping crates and safety barriers block off another hole on the left side of the lobby.

Vanessa carefully picks her way around bits of debris and caved in flooring. It’s a shame Gregory hasn’t started watching the security footage a little bit earlier so they’d have a better idea of how Cassie had navigated this mess. Deciding the areas with the biggest holes aren’t worth exploring, Vanessa wanders towards the area that used to house the final set of turnstiles before the entry pass display. Somehow, this area has significantly less damage done to it. If you ignore the headless staffbot in the distance and the spray painted warning that says ‘Danger’. How very welcoming and not foreboding in the slightest!

“The floor seems a little more stable over this way,” Vanessa calls to the others against her better judgement.

“Time for some reckless endangerment,” Gregory announces, leading the way into what’s left of one of the gift shops.

[gemini-sensei]

Hey there. 😇 Thanks for asking another of my questions; I highly appreciate you, and your answers to my asks too. 😎

Anyway, here’s another excerpt of a chapter titled “A Birthday Party Gone Wrong Turns Out Better”, which is from my AU Cobra Kai story “Phrase and Word Prompts (Cobra Kai Edition)” on Wattpad, and it’s partly inspired by the Season 2 episode Party Over Here from the Disney Channel series Lizzie McGuire (except different, in this case):

When they locked eyes with Jack, Hawk gave him a narrow-eyed glare, causing Jack to nervously back off a little. “Too bad, Jack. You obviously missed the memo about it being Annie’s birthday.”

Demetri agreed, tossing his own glare at Jack. “That’s right,” he remarked to Hawk before reverting his gaze over to Jack. “It is too bad for you; had you been listening, you would’ve learned Annie’s preference for chocolate cake and not strawberry.” He then grinned at Hawk, who also smiled. “At least some of us got that memo straightaway.”

Hawk nodded before turning back to Jack. “What were you thinking, Jack? A strawberry cake, and without candles on it? Really?”

Jack attempted to explain himself. “I was just told cake. Nobody said anything about candles.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “And you think that justifies how you treated me tonight?” She shook her head. “Honestly, Jack, I’m surprised at you.”

Her next words caught Jack off guard and stunned him into silence. “What kind of older brother are you to treat his younger sister like this, and on her birthday at that?”

Exchanging grins, Hawk and Demetri walked over to where Annie was; gently taking her by the arms, the Binary Brothers then walked her down the stairs and over to the front door, in front of the now shocked party guests.

One guest with blonde hair and blue eyes stopped them. “Annie, where are you going with these two guys?” he queried. Annie narrowed her eyes.

“Going to the mall with Hawk and Demetri. You see, I prefer to celebrate my birthday in my own way — namely, the way I want to. Not this... this... whatever this is.

“You know what? You guys are more than welcome to have the cake over there. I don’t want it,” she added while motioning with her head over to the cake.

The guest looked over at the cake in confusion before turning back to Annie. “What are you talking about? You love strawberry cake.”

Annie shot him a glare filled with tranquil fury. “No, I don’t. I never liked strawberry cake." And the next words were for Jack. “I like chocolate. I can’t believe you never noticed.”

With that, she turned to the Binary Brothers, a smile now having replaced her initial glare. “Well, shall we go celebrate my birthday the way you know I’d like to?”

Hawk and Demetri grinned. “Indeed we shall,” nodded Hawk.

As Annie, Demetri and Hawk headed off to the West Valley Mall, Jack and the others were too stunned to even try to call Annie back, or even attempt to stop her for that matter.

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

At the West Valley Mall food court, Annie was obviously enjoying herself. Her laughter rang out as she waltzed with Demetri before he twirled her into a dip while giving her a smile, which she returned. Gently pulling her back up, he let her go to Hawk, who took her left hand in his right while bowing from the waist in a gentlemanlike fashion while she curtsied, gripping the edge of her skirt with her free hand; then, he twirled her around gently like Demetri before him.

Well, what do you think so far? 😎🎂

Omg it's been so long since I watch Lizzie McGuire 💗 amd this was so cute.

I can totally see Eli and Demetri being thr types to know someone and the things they actually like as opposed to the assumptions other people make. It's so sweet. And dancing with her? 😍😍🥰🥰 yes please

[necros-writing-stuff]

Okay Okay here’s my Ghost getting a noncon blowjob discord ramble - gn nurse, possibly OOC on Ghost’s behalf. He’s having a rough few days (got stabbed, having PTSD symptoms from childhood).

I won’t be using the main Ghost tags cause most people there don’t seem into the dead dove.

So the 141 got a new nurse to help out at base. They're quiet at first before opening up to everyone, but it's not hard to see that they seem to have a hard time talking to Ghost. But it's Ghost, he thinks that answering "Affirmative," to a simple question constitutes as a conversation, so no one can really blame their nurse for only giving the Lt. a brief smile as they pass him in the corridors and never more.

That's until he comes back passed out from a leaking stab wound. The lads had gone out drinking, just a local bar. Ghost had had a few, and as they'd started stumbling their way back to the base (walking that far seems fun when you're hammered), he'd stopped to take a piss in an alley. Hadn't seen the guy shaking behind a skip, clutching a knife. He'd had too many, letting his guard down for once in his damn life - and now he's paying for it.

Countless missions around the world. A shitty ass childhood. Nuclear bombs going off not even mile away from him. And it's some fuckin’ back-alley nutcase that manages to get a good enough hit to kill him.

Thankfully, it doesn't actually kill him. But he does feel confused when he wakes up in the medical bay, the newest nurse prodding at his side and making him wince. They flinch as soon as they notice he's awake, as if they'd been caught doing something wrong. He notices, with relief, that he's still got a mask on. Hides the quirk of his lips at seeing them so jumpy.

"You're conscious, that's good," they mutter quietly, slinking off before he can ask how the fuck he got here. He probably yelled out when he'd been shanked, the lads coming and dealing with it and dragging his sorry arse home.

The doc comes in soon enough, gives him the lowdown. He's on bedrest for the next week. Because the knife knicked his small intestine and its a bitch to heal, along with some pain meds and steroids to get him up and rolling as soon as he can manage. Shit.

Ghost hates being stuck inside. Hates that every fucking thing he does is being monitored "for his health" and that its that nurse that has to do it because doctors don't waste their time on helping patients waddle to the loo and the other nurses are on leave since the squad were all on breaks. He hates the feeling of being high on those painkillers.

And fuck Soap and Gaz, too. Coming to visit just to tease him as Ghost's personal little tender switches out his gauze. They try to get them to join in, but they just give a tight-lipped smile before finishing up and running away again.

"The fuck you even do to them? They act like you tried to kill them once." Soap shakes his head, eyes following as the nurse disappears beyond the closing door.

"Nothing I'm aware of," Ghost huffs, shifting his hips and trying to get more comfortable, ignoring the pain in his stomach, “but at least they make a nice cup of tea.” That gets a chuckle and some jokes at his “Too English” expense.

Lying in bed all day is starting to make his body ache, he wants to be out, wants to go on the longest fucking run of his life. But every time he moves there's still that telltale sharp pain.

He's stubborn. But he's not stupid. He knows to be a good boy and follow the doc's orders, or he'll fuck himself up even worse and won't be back in the field for a long, long time.

He misses it. Misses the adrenaline of it all, the justified rage that can take over him so much it plateaus out into a calm coolness that helps him kill with all that precision. Like therapy to him, that. A fucked up form of therapy, sure. But it helps him not take it out on those that don't deserve it.

The lads leave him for the night, and he sighs as he settles in to sleep. The nurse comes back, closes the curtain around his bed and mutters quietly that they'll be back at 6am to check on him, but to press the button if he needed anything. He just nods, waiting to hear the door close before he takes the mask off and places it on the side.

He's never been one to sleep much, but he comes to prefer mornings in the bay. His body feels looser then, relaxed for reasons he can't figure out. Still, he never let him self sleep in. Never slept past 5am on a good day, and it seems tonight is no different. Ghost wakes up in the pitch-blackness of the medical bay, groaning and stiff.

Because someone's between his legs with their tongue lapping at his cock like a thirsty mutt. There's a mix of feelings bubbling in his chest. Anger, sure. Confusion. Fear that he's being sexually assaulted in his own base by an anonymous abuser. He half thinks he's dreaming, but the little licks are too sharply pleasant to be imaginary.

He stops moving as the tongue halts, the owner pausing to guess if he had woken up or not. He fakes sleep, keeping his breathing even until his assailant goes back to violating him. Slowly, his hand creeps from the mattress, finding the switch for the lamp.

He flips it on, surprised to be met with the wide stare of his nurse. Deer in the headlights, that's the look.

He doesn't speak. Isn't exactly sure what to say. It being that nurse is only confusing him more. They avoid him, always. As much as they can. Yet they're the one making his dick leak pre with the sweet attention they give.

There's a long, long period of silence as they stare each other down, a game of chicken to see if he'll pounce and start pummelling or if they'll run away before he can.

He doesn't expect them to slowly start licking again, one, two, three stripes of their tongue up and down before sucking him as far into their eager mouth as he can go.

So many things he's done. So many experiences that few things surprised him anymore, yet since the night of being stabbed he's had more new experiences than in the past, oh, 5 years at least. Not good ones, that's for sure.

His breath catches as they suck particularly hard, an odd noise coming from his throat as his mouth falls open and his hips jolt.

They don't break eye contact the entire time, and he's suddenly very aware that the mask is off. But they've already seen his face - and evidently a lot more.

His brain starts working again, patterns he hadn't realised were there falling into place. He always feels better in the mornings. More relaxed, his body pleasantly tired in that way he would get after the occasional (very rare) wank he granted himself. This isn't the first time his little helper had done this. But how hadn't he noticed-

Pain meds. They'd knocked him out right good for the night. His dose was reduced this morning.

He still doesn't know what to do. It makes him feel vulnerable in a way that he hasn't felt since he was a kid, being tormented by his father - by his brother hanging down from the top bunk whispering with that mask on. He can't look away, can only stare wide-eyed as he grunts and moans before his head lolls back just from how good it feels.

He's breathing hard, the addition of his nurse's hands gently massaging the base of his cock and a thumb making tiny little teasing circles on his ball-sack sending him over the edge shamefully quickly.

They swallow everything. Pull off of him with a sickeningly wet pop before putting him away clinically as if they'd just been examining his dick for medical purposes.

"You should catch some more sleep, sir," they whisper, leaning over and clicking the lamp off before they leave him alone in that dark room once more.

He's trembling now. Stuck gazing up at the tiles in the ceiling as his head drifts away. It's not right. None of that was okay. So why the fuck didn't he do something to make it stop? Why couldn't he move, speak, fucking blink Morse code?

He’s not some kid. He’s a trained soldier, the one called when you want the job done with as few loose strings as humanly possible. With no traces, no evidence, no photos. So why?

Why does he let them do it again in the morning, with a happy little smile on their face as he wonders where the fuck Ghost went and Simon Riley took his place.