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#i mean he covered the area that needs to be covered but there’s a sharp bit and it doesn’t feel secure and the bite is really bad
reallychaoticwoo · 3 days
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Hi, babe!!!! I just accidentally hit my head really hard and I need some comfort. So could you please write something for a non idol! Reader with some kind of injury? I’m feeling better now, but I still need something to get me going. Love you💕💕
⛓️Hello babes! So this may have been slightly self-indulgent as your girl is in SERIOUS need of some physical affection lol but i do really hope you enjoy it!⛓️
✨️Peace of mind✨️
❤️Pairing: San x reader
⚠️Warnings: cussing, some suggestiveness🖤
This is truly a fluff fest, and I am absolutely NOT sorry.
‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol in any way‼️
🖤This was not proofread, so I apologize for any typos or weird mistakes 😅 Hope you enjoy!🖤
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You didn't plan on injuring yourself today, I mean, does anyone ever really plan on it? You'd been rushing to get your things together, eager to head home and get out of your uncomfortable office attire. Bending down to grab your laptop bag and purse your head collided with the corner of your desk. Your vision blacking out for a quick moment and a sharp pain shooting through your head, you let out a groan. "Fuck.." Your hand finding it's way to your forehead to apply pressure to the aching area. Sitting back in your chair hand still holding your head you heard a knock at the door. "Come in." San opened the door, leaning himself against the frame. "Hey I was just coming to see if you.... shit, are you okay?" The casual stance he had disappeared as he made his way to your desk. Pulling your hand away from your head his eyes widened. "You're bleeding y/n. What happened?" Concern written all over his face, he headed to bookshelf in the corner of your office where the first aid kit was. "I'm okay.." You started looking at your blood covered hand that had been resting on your head. "I was just trying to pack up and I hit my head on the desk when I went to grab my bags." He let out a small chuckle, internally scolding himself for laughing at your clumsiness. "Yup, that sounds like something you'd do." He sat on your desk facing you, pulling your hand into his to wipe away the blood with a small antibacterial wipe he'd gotten from your first aid kit. "So what were you coming in to ask me before you stopped to play nurse?" You asked, nuding his knee with your free hand, a cute little smirk resting on your face.
The two of you had a bit of a back and forth going at the office. Passing flirty winks back and forth in the hallways, randomly showing up at each other's offices with any and every excuse in the book as to why. Neither of you had actually made a move to further things, though. Part of you wondered why, but another part of you figured it was because the both of you knew dating in the workplace, you get really messy really quick. Either way, you always caught yourself wishing things could be more.
"Well, I was going to see if you had plans tonight. But considering you just tried to put yourself into a coma, I don't think now would be the best time for a date." As if it was the most casual sentence in the world, he leaned forward to wipe the blood from your forehead and face, with nothing but a concentrated look painting his own. "I wouldn't say no if you asked." You looked up at him, a glimer of relief and excitement passing through your wide eyes. He chuckled knowingly. "Oh, I know. Don't think I haven't been wanting to ask you out for a while now. I just didn't want things to get weird if I did, but I think it's pretty obvious we'd both like to see where this could go." You giggled at the truth he just admitted so bluntly. There was no arguing that you were dying to see what things would be like if you both just allowed yourselves to be honest with your emotions towards each other.
"So, how about instead of going out like I was originally planning, we stay in and you let me take care of you and that injured little head of yours?" Playfully nudging your chin with his thumb, he looked at you with warmth in his eyes and a shinning smile spreading across his lower face. You couldn't help but return the cheesy grin up in his direction. "That sounds even better, honestly. No loud noises or bright lights. And most importantly, no feeling the need to wear uncomfortable clothes to look pretty." He tsked, a fake pout spread across his features. "You wouldn't want to dress up and go on a nice date with me??" He crossed him, arms feigning disappointment. "Right now? No. I want nothing more than some comfy sweats and to get out of these harsh lights." Your head really was throbbing. As much as his banter improved your mood, your eyes had been squinted the whole time, and you were ready to go anywhere that was quite and dimly lit. His muffled laughter catching your attention, he offered you his hand to help you up. He made sure to grab your bags so you wouldn't have to bend down again and risk another blow to your already aching head. "Okay, okay, princess, my place work for you? I've got plenty of comfy sweats, you can pick whichever ones you want." Walking out of your office, your face resembled that of a high school girl getting a text from her crush. You were smiling, blushing, internally screaming, and giggling. I mean, who wouldn't feel that way when the hottest man to ever grace this planet was taking you home to comfort you and make sure you still got a little date out of it. Honestly, the fact you knew without a doubt he'd have no expectations from you made you weak in the knees. Just a genuinely caring man who wants to make sure you are feeling okay because you hit your head. You weren't sure the exact moment the gods started blessing you, but you were mentally thanking them the entire walk to his car.
The car ride was rather nice. His hand resting on your thigh, the two of you talking about everything and nothing. When you finally reached his house, he quickly opened your door, offering you his hand to help you to your feet. Outside his house was simple but beautiful. He had a wrap around porch with a black metal bench swing, stringed light bulbs lining the edge of the covering, and a sitting area with two large wicker chairs and a small table. His yard was well maintained with beautiful flowers and greenery placed perfectly throughout. You were admiring the simplicity and homey feel as he ushered you up the front steps and through his front door. The inside of his home was equally as inviting, sleek, and modern, with carefully placed decor, highlighting the various spacious rooms. Gesturing you to follow him, the two of you moved to his living room. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go grab you some headache meds and water really quick. I'll be right back." You smiled in his direction, nodding at him in a silent thank you. Sitting on the couch, you took a look around the living room. A large marble fireplace in front of you with a large TV mounted to the wall above it. The mantle was decorated with a few vining plants and pictures of who you assumed were his brothers or really close friends. You smiled to yourself at how many goofy and well taken photos he'd proudly displayed. He quickly made his way back to the living room with meds and water in hand. "Here, take these. I'm going to go change really quick, and then you can pick out your pj's for the night." With a warm smile and a gentle kiss to the forehead, he made his way down the hall and to his room.
It was only a few minutes before San was back by your side. "Alright, gorgeous, let's get you into some comfier clothes." He bent down, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to his bedroom before sitting you gently on his bed. Opening his closet, he motioned his hand to the large selection of sweats as if to say 'take your pick'. Your eyes lit up at the grandiose selection, a delighted smile on your face. Picking out a plain black set, he brought the clothing to the bed and laid it down next to you neatly. "You can change in here. I'll wait in the living room. You have any movie requests? I can order some pizza, if that sounds good to you." You chuckled at how considerate he was. If you were being honest you'd expected him to be a total fuck boy. The flirting at the office and his perfectly styled appearance just screamed 'I'll take your chick and fuck her in front of you'. Yet, even if there was some truth to that, he was actually turning out to be a real gentleman. "You pick the movie, I can never make a decision and my head hurts too much to even try right now. And pizza sounds great, thank you." With a quick nod, he was leaving the room to let you change. Alone in his room, sitting on his bed, you felt a sense of home. His bed was plush and comfortable. You had to fight yourself to get up and change, deciding it'd probably be off putting if he found you curled up under his sheets fast asleep when you never came back.
Walking back you to the living room, you stopped at the entryway, smiling to yourself at the sight before you. San had set up the perfect at home date night. A makeshift pallet full of blankets on the floor, several pillows leaning against the couch, candles flickering on the mantle and end tables. Pizza was sitting on the coffee table, which was pushed off to the side, sitting next to one of the end tables. He'd turned the lights off to make sure the brightness wouldn't cause your headache to worsen and had a movie already pulled up and ready. Thanking the gods for the nth time today, you walked into the living room, taking your place beside San. Handing you your plate, he pressed play on the movie before grabbing his own plate. Both eating now, you looked to the screen, a familiar movie playing. A movie you'd watched many times, usually when you were alone and sad, sobbing into your pillow at the when you heard the line "if you're a bird, I'm a bird." You should've guessed by this point he'd be the type of guy to enjoy romantic movies. What you didn't guess was that he picked this movie so he could see how you reacted. He wanted to see what made you laugh, what made you cry, and what made your eyes shine with want. He wanted to get to know you better and more than just small talk and casual flirting.
Finishing your food, he took your plates and set them on the coffee table. He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, placing an attentive kiss to the top of your head. Leaning into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder, a content smile grew across your face. Although your headache seemed to be dissipating, the events of the day seemed to be catching up with you. Your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Noticing how your body seemed to grow more relaxed, San wrapped his arms around you and carefully moved the two of into a laying position. In the half awake/ half asleep haze, you softly muttered, "This is perfect. Thank you, Sannie." Your eyes never opening, you nuzzled further into him, your head now rest on his chest, your leg laid across his thighs. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair and the steady beating of his heart lulling you into the most traquil night of sleep you've had in years. A soft kiss to your forehead and then to the top of your head, San allowed himself to succumb to his own tiredness, truly at ease with you in his arms.
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 months
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I did have a productive day tbh. I did all my work shit, I made two appointments and I went for a run for the first time in 5 days :)
#i was on the phone to my friend complaining throughout most of the work shit#she was bored at work (she is a cashier at a failing bike shop) and i was also bored at work (proofreading)#i did find out there was some kind of swat team situation in my town though and 3 people got arrested which is crazy#you don’t hear of this type of stuff happening here. they had 5 ambulances. i didn’t even know we HAD five ambulances available. like at all#anyway so the appointments are dentist because i FINALLY got a permanent filling last week but it SUCKS#i mean he covered the area that needs to be covered but there’s a sharp bit and it doesn’t feel secure and the bite is really bad#like the temporary felt better. if he could’ve just.. repeated the temporary but with permanent materials. i’d be fine!#but he decided to freestyle and i really must ask why#i wouldn’t mind but this isn’t an nhs dentist and it’s going to take me a week’s work to pay for this filling and it’s not even good#so i’m going back there and making them sort my shit out#i just hope they don’t have to give me anaesthetic because it took like 4 hours to wear off last time. and the injection site#was really sore! i think it bled at one point. or my gums did. SOMETHING bled. look i couldn’t work out what was going on but it was bad#it hasn’t happened since. is all i know#oh and i also made a physio appointment because the bone spur on my ankle is fucking killing me#i went for a run and felt like i was losing my damn mind because my arthritic knee that has popped out of its socket 4 times previously#wasn’t giving me any trouble at all; but my stupid ankle WAS#i keep trying to research what to do about this but google results are so full of AI garbage i can’t find anything specific#like okay WHAT kind of insoles or orthotics do i need? what type of shoes? what exercises should i be doing???#when i went to pick up my prescription i thought about asking the people at the pharmacy but they were so rude i just aborted that mission#i don’t know what’s gone on but they look at you as if you’ve just stumbled into their living room and started guzzling their ibuprofen#i’m like girl i just want my allergy pills. jesus#personal
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yzzart · 3 months
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YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO
── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.
── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.
── word count: 1.206!
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Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.
Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?
But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.
Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.
At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.
He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.
Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.
That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.
The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.
“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.
Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.
“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"
Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.
Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.
“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.
“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.
“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.
A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.
When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.
Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.
"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.
Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.
Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.
You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.
“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”
Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.
“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”
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ozzgin · 3 months
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I just finished playing Firewatch and the cozy, lonely vibes gave me another monster idea! You got a summer job as a fire watch for the closest National Park. All you have to do is to sit in your tower, and...watch. For fires. Sounds boring? Worry not, your supervisor is there to keep you company over the radio. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior, suggestive ending
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"And? What are you running away from?"
"Excuse me?"
You raise your eyebrows at the unexpected question coming from the radio. The deep voice belongs to your supervisor, the man who'll guide you throughout your stay at the National Park.
"No one picks up an isolated job in the mountains out of sheer desire. Especially someone as young as you." He chuckles briefly, then resumes in a more professional tone: "My apologies. You don't have to answer that."
What a strange way to begin the conversation, you think to yourself. Yet this nonchalance and casualty is all you have for the following months. The other watchtowers don't talk much, if at all. You're entirely alone in the wilderness, save for the mysterious man on the radio.
Slowly, you begin to warm up to his chatty nature. He likes to ask a lot of questions. A terribly curious individual, though you can understand his reasoning: he's been working for the Park for over a decade. How does one survive without another human being?
He never leaves his tower, and thus you've never seen his face. He's content, you're indifferent. Occasionally, he'll mention sketching you to pass the time.
"How would you describe your eyes, (Y/N)?" he'll ask between his pencil scribbles. "I see. I'm sure they're beautiful. Why are you suddenly quiet? Have you forgotten how to take a compliment? I'm just messing with you, kiddo."
You haven't witnessed a single fire since coming here, despite the torrid summer heat. Your days are spent hiking without aim and talking to your supervisor.
One morning, you wake up to the grating beep of the radio instead of your alarm. You pick up the small device with an irritated grunt.
"Would you like to meet?"
You need a moment to process the words. Are you finally going to greet the one man who's kept you distant company for weeks? Intriguing. You mumble your agreement, still half-asleep.
As you make your way down the hill, you notice a supply station covered in moss and overgrown vegetation. You check your map, just to be sure. There shouldn't be anything here. What a peculiar thing to stumble upon. You approach the old wooden box and lift the lid carefully.
The musty inside is filled with rows of newspapers and some scattered notes. You pluck one newspaper out, and rest your eyes on the first headline.
"National Park is saying goodbye to its employees. The area will be permanently closed after the devastating fire."
You gawk at the title, then at the photographed location.
It's your watchtower.
You scramble to read the rest of the paragraphs, words slipping behind in your frantic search. This forest has been sealed off for years. You recognize the name of your supervisor in the report: a father of three, loved by everyone, died tragically before a rescue team could reach him.
"Found anything interesting, kiddo?"
You turn around with mild hesitation. Whoever this impersonating maniac is, or what he wants, is rather irrelevant at this point. You're trapped alone with him.
Across from you stands a creature, resembling a chimera more than a human being. Long, grotesque limbs ending in black claws, hollow eyes, and mangled rows of razor-sharp teeth put together in a grin. Monstrous.
You're out of breath.
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"That looks great", the creature remarks cheerfully.
"Don't use my voice to talk. It's embarrassing to hear myself like that", you lecture it as you spread out the food onto the picnic blanket.
It switches back to the supervisor's soft, masculine tone.
"Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."
The monster extends one bony hand over your head, fanning out the fingers and dragging them across your hair in gentle strokes. What a precious little human you are.
You did not run away. A terrifying thought: losing you after all the time spent together. It didn't want to chase you down and make it even worse for you. But you stayed, you truly did.
"By the way", you say as you bite into your sandwich, stretching out your legs. "Is it you who prevents the fires? Usually it's a common occurrence here, especially in summer."
You recall the scorching flames from the newspaper.
"Yes. To keep you safe, you understand."
"Not only did you lie to me about the job, but you kept me out of work, too", you whine. "I got bored to death! Days on end!"
You're suddenly pushed down into the blanket, and you stare into the spiraling, empty sockets, confused.
"I can entertain you to your heart's desire, (Y/N)."
Its snout widens in a flirty smile, releasing a bizarre succession of clicks. Is it laughing in its natural voice?
You blush.
"I suppose there are some ways..." you suggest cheekily, unbuttoning your shirt.
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[More Monsters] | [More Original Works]
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They Help You Practice
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Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!
TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list
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You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 
“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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loaksky · 1 year
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— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔
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mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k
you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!
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tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)
an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.
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neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.
ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.
neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.
neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.
yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.
eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.
“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.
“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”
neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.
“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.
your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.
“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i—”
“i’ll pass.”
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.
“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”
“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”
and the door is shutting in your face.
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neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.
has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).
“morning,” you smile.
you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).
“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”
“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”
“…i’m not.”
you beam.
“great!”
you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.
neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.
“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.
“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.
“who’s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.
“girl in 5a.”
first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.
jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”
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neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.
she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.
neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.
little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.
neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.
neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.
neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.
“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.
neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.
“morning, 5a.”
neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.
you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.
you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.
“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.
“hey,” you sigh.
“long day?” she humors you.
the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.
and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.
(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).
so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.
ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.
“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”
that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.
“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”
“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”
ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.
“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”
you’re grinning.
“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”
ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.
“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”
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neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.
the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.
you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.
you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.
little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.
meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.
everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).
neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).
neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.
neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.
you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.
neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.
neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.
neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.
you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.
you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.
you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.
it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.
it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.
probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.
you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.
you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!
it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.
you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.
you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.
you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.
you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.
your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.
regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.
your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.
it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.
you end up sleeping in the living room that night.
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neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.
neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.
“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.
“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”
neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.
(yeah, that’s totally it).
“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.
she huffs a breath, defensive.
“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”
oh—
you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.
you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.
in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.
“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”
“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”
“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”
neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.
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neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.
it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.
you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.
neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.
they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.
she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(
realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.
neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.
hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.
neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.
but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.
“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.
“yeah,” you hum.
“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.
“thanks.”
neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.
“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”
“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”
a blanket of silence.
“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”
the elevator dings and the doors part.
“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.
neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.
neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?
neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.
neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.
neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.
“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.
“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”
“you miss her,” he fills in.
ellie turns red.
“fuck you, i don’t—”
“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”
ellie swallows, lips pursing.
“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”
“fuck you—”
“for someone who likes bitches you—”
ellie groans.
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neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.
and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.
you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.
she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.
“been doing alright?” she asks finally.
you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.
you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.
“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”
ellie hums.
“how’s work?”
“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.
neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.
neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.
“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”
your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.
“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.
it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.
“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”
“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”
and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—
“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”
your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.
“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.
ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.
“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.
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neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.
neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.
neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.
you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.
neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.
“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.
“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.
“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”
“i do not love her,” ellie barks.
jesse smirks.
“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.
“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”
“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”
“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.
“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”
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neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.
who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.
neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.
neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.
neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.
she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.
you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—
“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.
“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.
you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.
she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.
“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“i was, er, in the area?”
one of your eyebrows raise.
“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.
it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.
“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”
the words after are a silent insinuation.
god knows i did.
you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.
“i like you.” she says suddenly.
you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.
“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”
neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.
she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.
“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.
her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.
“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”
“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”
ellie shakes her head vehemently.
“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”
“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”
ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.
“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”
she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.
“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”
your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.
“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”
you breathe out an involuntary laugh.
“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”
you flinch.
“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”
you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.
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18+ BONUS
neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.
she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.
needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.
didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.
neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.
“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”
the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.
one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.
“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.
that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.
especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.
neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.
you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.
“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.
“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.
“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”
all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.
“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.
your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.
you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.
“surprise,” she whispers.
neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.
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neng © 2023
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circlebuttons · 2 months
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Rafe on Love Island
- this is a throw away rant because of how obsessed i am w love island us rn. I feel like Rafe would be a mix of leah and rob with a bit of caine for rule breaking.
-
You get coupled with Rafe in love island on the very first night. When all the guys walked in your eyes were on him immediately, he's taller and broader than everyone else in his sharp grey suit with his white button down being unbuttoned just a tad. The closer he gets you notice that his eyes are already locked on you. His eye contact makes your heart race and the cherry on top is the sly smirk that creeps up on his face when you lean over to the two girls you already befriended in such a short time and quietly inform them that, "Buzzcut is mine." He scoffs out a silent laugh on account of you never look away from him once or block your lips from being able to be read. You're the first person he introduces himself too, holding your hand firmly and probably for a bit too long.
He sits on the couch facing you and during the icebreaker questions you learn that Rafe Cameron is a man who's lived a lot of lives but is now a certified businessman, looking to find his first ever stable relationship. The most important thing you learn is that your feelings of attraction are mutual when he pulls a card that reads "Kiss the islander who you think is a gold digger"
His eyes immediately land you and he clarifies to everyone that he's picking you not because he thinks your a gold digger, but because he'd rather have you be his sugar baby, it's all about perspective at the end of the day.
"You can take all my money" he mumbles before kissing you gently at first with a coy hand on your neck, but you're the one to deepen it and he follows your lead immediately before you break apart, softly saying, "Nice to meet you" while using your finger to wipe the rouge lip combo that you both are now wearing.
There's no doubt in your mind when picking Rafe to couple up with. After the coupling Rafe is on your heels following you like a puppy to an area of couches where you're meant to get to know each other a bit better before sharing a bed. There he asks a lot more questions about yourself, hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth. You eventually leave to go get ready for bed and he reluctantly separates from you, being the first one under the covers laying awake with bright eyes when you climb in on the other side of him. "Courtesy pillow?" he asks looking at you cautiously. "Not unless you need it, I'll behave for the first night" you smirk at him before turning to your side and getting comfortable and little do you know how long he stares at the ceiling replaying every event from today, avoiding reminiscing on the kiss to avoid becoming to worked up, but worked up nonetheless because he feels insane for falling for a girl this fast into the game.
That morning Rafe wakes up with a smile on his face for the first time in ages and he wakes up like that everyday in the villa because no matter what it's always you. He's nothing short of obsessed with you, just as much as you are him, but the two of you being head over heels doesn't make for good tv until Rafe starts playing more defensively. The first male bombshells that get added to the villa get nothing but glares from him as they get way to comfortable with you in the games and attempt to pull you for chats while you're literally right next to him. Production had made it clear that it was off limits to physically fight, so Rafe had to settle for pulling in other guys for secret "chats" instead where he'd just loom over them and make sure it was understood you were happy being coupled with him.
Production would have to step in again to remind rafe that it was also against the rules to hinder filming in anyway meaning saying blunt no's when another girl tries to pull him or turning his head when the objective of a game is to kiss. It unexpectedly makes better tv when Rafe starts his malicious compliance as he sits either blank or stank faced and awkwardly silent in one on one chats with girls who insist on talking with him and in challenges the cameras capture the disgusted tight lipped faces he makes when he's forced to kiss someone else. You feel the same way he does, you're a bit more complacent with production and don't mind participating. It bothers Rafe sure, but at the end of the day it fuels him seeing you kiss another islander and knowing that he's ten times better than any of these guys will ever be. You and Rafe discussed that you have to do what you have to do for tv, but outside of mini games there was to be exclusivity. Exclusive is a word you use a lot, waiting until the outside to be a real couple.
Although what you don't wait for is having sex in the villa after finding out all the guys left for casa amor. Hearing that Rafe was the only guy to refuse not only made you proud, but surprisingly horny too. Making out at night or even grinding on each other wasn't foreign to either one of you, it's when your hand drifts into Rafe's waistband that he shoots up to flip you under him, eager to finally have all of you. After that night the two of you sneak around fucking like absolute bunnies. You protest weakly every time he starts kissing on your neck, knowing what's about to to happen, mumbling "Fuck me, my moms watching" before you the two of you duck under covers and have the best sex of your lives.
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mistywaves98 · 2 months
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Delinquent reader getting her brains fucked by councilprez!Scara? Degrading, spanking, bjs, over the desk and bodyworship?
And ong, please!! Bonus if they're step siblings for just that extra, unnecessary spice. Please, please, please? 🙉❤️
The stepcest got my stomach twisting like-?? Though tbh I'm not too confident abt this one... Long fics aren't really my strong point 😭
✧・゚:* ->Student Council President! Scara x Fem! Reader
✧・゚:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Stepcest, Degradation, Slight praise, Spanking, Blowjob, Mean!/Sadistic! Scara, Body worship if you squint!
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Did you really think that you could get away with your usual mischief just because you were related to the president of the student council? Well, yeah...no. Not after you've found yourself in this position — on your knees of the empty classroom, choking on the president's dick. Scaramouche couldn't keep the sadistic smile off his face as he roughly fucked your poor throat with his girthy length. Your jaw was sore, your oesophagus even more so from the way he used your mouth like a fleshlight.
You couldn't stop gagging everytime the tip hit the back of your throat, making you grab his thighs to steady yourself as tears streamed down your face,"Aww, what's the matter? Don't tell me your mouth hurts already, I was hoping to cum down your throat a couple times. Oh well, guess once will have to do...Open wide." His tone feigned sadness, but expression said otherwise. Scaramouche's eyes glinted with malice as he pulled you off his cock, groaning as he allowed his gooey cum to splatter all over your face, making you wince in response. He then takes a hand and runs it along your cheek, collecting his cum on his fingers only to shove them into your mouth.
And like the obedient little sister you are, you stuck your tongue out and accepted every drop before swallowing the bitter essence. You certainly looked a mess now, the lower half of your face dripping with the evidence of his climax as well as the red puffiness of your cheeks from crying. Scaramouche pats your head, the gesture more condescending than uplifting, "Good girl. At least you're not totally brain dead. But you still need to be punished for all those violations.."
Now you find yourself pulled up from the floor, laid across his lap. You squirm, legs kicking slightly before tensing as he flips up the back of your skirt,"S-scara? What are y—!!" A sharp smack to your ass cuts you off as you yelp, holding your tongue as your face flushes. "Tch, what a whore I have for a sister... Walking around with a skirt that barely covers your ass. That also goes against the dress code, y'know." Though you can already feel his dick getting stiff as he says that, the hardness pressing uncomfortably against your stomach.
Scaramouche takes his time to admire your body from this angle, running a finger from the base of your neck, moving down your spine to the top of your skirt, feeling you, shudder from the sensation. His eyes trail down to the area between your legs, watching as the fabric of your panties clings to the drooling folds of your pussy and he decides to use this to taunt you some more,"Hah! Are you really this worked up right now? All from sucking my dick... Guess you like this more than you're letting on. You love getting treated like a bag of holes by your stepbrother, don't you, you dirty bitch."
As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was right and the way he was calling you out was making you wetter by the second. Your step brother noticed it too, and smirked at the sight before suddenly grabbing the waistband of your panties. His eyes narrowed as he yanked it up and forwards a bit, eliciting another yelp from you as the fabric gets caught between your ass cheeks. The sensation is rather painful, as he intended, making you whimper as your face burns with humiliation.
"There, that's better. Now I can get a proper view of this ass in all its plush glory. Look at it, just begging to be spanked!" He laughed at his own words, enjoying every minute of your dilemma as he runs a hand over the smooth skin, giving it a periodic squeeze. When he's had his fill, he lifts it and reels it back. A loud smack! resounds throughout the classroom as his palm comes into contact with your ass. He's unforgiving, using as much force as possible to maximize your pain reception.
The tears are quick to flow, dripping onto the floor as your body lurches forward with each spank. Scaramouche suddenly lifts his left knee a bit propping his foot up with the assistance of a nearby chair. This slight change lifts your ass higher in the air, forcing your back into an arch as he continues his ruthless punishment. You wail and plead, arms flailing as you try to convince him to let up even a little bit but it's all in vain. His palm simply comes down to press between your shoulder blades to hold you in place as your step brother remains hellbent on tormenting you like this.
Your cries accompanied with the smacks echo throughout the otherwise quiet classroom. Considering it's after school hours, there's no one that would hear the two of you, except perhaps the janitor but they wouldn't dare interrupt such a scene. smack! smack! smack! The pain is searing by now, and you're quite positive that you're not going to be able to sit properly for a while after this. It's only when the flesh is red and raw that Scaramouche decides it's enough.
Even after his hand retreats you can still feel the sting, jolting as it comes back down to rub the irritated skin. The other one moves to grab the sides of your face, pulling your head back to look up at him as he coos at your pitiful state,"What a sight you are... Spanked nice and raw f'me. Heh, you should be grateful that I didn't make you count every single hit." His thumb pries your mouth open, pressing down on your tongue to reveal your used throat,"I definitely would've, if I hadn't fucked your mouth so thoroughly..."
"Are we...are we done..?" You manage to croak out as he removes the finger, voice hoarse and a bit muffled from the grip on your face as you desperately hope he'll give you a break. That hope is swiftly shattered when he merely cackles, the sadistic glint in his eyes ever present as his shoulders shake with laughter,"Haha! You thought I was done with you? Oh, no no, my dear step-sis, we've barely reached the fun part yet.." Dread pools in the pit of your stomach as he changes your position for the second time.
This time your upper half is pushed against the teacher's desk, breasts smushed against the hard surface as your lower half hangs off the edge. Scaramouche eagerly discards your skirt and then your underwear, pocketing the latter for personal use as he fixates on your bare pussy. Your step brother bites his lip, trailing a finger down your drooling slit before using his index and middle to push apart your folds and reveal your clenching hole to him,"Shit...she's fucking gorgeous... S' pretty and just asking to be filled. Can't believe you've been hiding all this from me, huh sis?"
He lifts his head to look at your face, and you avert your gaze, cheeks burning as he simply chuckles at your shyness. Though as much as he'd love to stare some more, his cock was already hard and aching for some more relief. A choked whimper slips out of you as he lines himself up with your entrance and abruptly shoves himself inside you, giving you no time to adjust as he bottoms out immediately. Scaramouche grunts as he feels your walls stretching to accommodate him, loving the feeling of your tight cunt around his cock.
"Hnn...Oh, God— Your pussy's so damn tight... Squeezing me so nicely...So wet too, I knew you were enjoying that spanking, fucking slut.." His hands come down on either side of your torso, pressing against the table for leverage as he begins to thrust. He picks up a rhythm, going hard and deep with reasonably paced strokes. Your nails scratch the smooth wood of the table, moans keening from your aching throat as his tip kisses your cervix every time he pushes back in. It doesn't help that his hips are snapping against your sore ass with each thrust, making you wince when they flush against yours. Your legs struggle to support you, trembling as his cock splits you apart.
All this back to back stimulation has rendered your body incredibly sensitive and you already find yourself teetering near the edge of release,"A-ahn...! S-...Scara...hnn! 'm gonna...gonna cum—!" Scaramouche feels his dick twitch as he hears that, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts as he becomes set on making you coat his dick in your creamy essence. "Then cum f'me, wanna feel your slutty pussy squirt around my cock..." Well that was all you needed to hear, eyes rolling to back of your skull as you came with a squeal of ecstasy.
Scaramouche moaned as he felt your walls flutter around him, your cum creating a translucent ring around the base of his shaft. He didn't stop thrusting, helping you ride out your high as his body chased release of its own. His hands came down to grasp your hips, using it as leverage to drill his cock into you as a wild pace, strangled whimpers leaving your parted lips,"Nghh... Fuck, you looked so pretty cummin' around my dick like that..."
"But we're not done yet, so brace yourself..."
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berry-potchy · 1 year
Text
Indulge Me
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)
Also on AO3
Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.
•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•
Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.
“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.
“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”
“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”
“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”
Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.
“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.
“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”
“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”
“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.
“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.
“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.
“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”
He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.
“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”
“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”
“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”
“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.
"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"
Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.
He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.
“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.
You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.
“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.
“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.
“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?
You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.
“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.
So close.
You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.
Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.
You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.
“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”
He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.
He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.
Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”
Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.
“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”
He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.
You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.
Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.
Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.
You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.
He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.
“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”
He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.
“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”
“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.
“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”
He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.
“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”
You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.
“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.
“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.
You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.
“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.
His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.
“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.
“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”
And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.
Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.
Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.
But he has more plans for you tonight.
He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.
“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.
“Hm?”
“... pull out.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.
“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”
That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.
“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.
“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”
“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.
“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”
You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.
“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.
“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”
You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”
He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.
“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.
“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”
You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.
You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?
You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.
You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.
"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.
"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”
He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.
You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.
“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”
Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.
“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”
You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.
“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”
His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.
“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”
And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.
“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.
A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.
Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.
The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.
“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.
“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”
“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.
“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”
Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.
You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.
You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.
Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.
“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”
He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.
“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.
He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.
“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”
“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”
He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.
•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•
Translations:
Que linda - how pretty
muñeca - doll
cariño - dear/darling
Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?
Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?
conejita - little rabbit
pobrecita - poor thing
que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)
Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this
Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me
Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love
Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.
mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)
coño - pussy
A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏
2K notes · View notes
briefalpacashark · 7 months
Text
~Ghost of the Past~
=Part Two=
Warning: Violence, death, graphic scenes.
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Cleared area your ass. You saw three of your former team. Jamie was standing out in the open. He was dazed stumbling around while holding his gut. He didn't see the enemy, but you did. You crash tackled the poor lad behind a piece of felled debris as bullets rained down upon you. You felt a hot pain travers up your arm. You checked to see only a bullet graze. Jamie on the other hand. 
“Fuck,” You whispered seeing his spitting shoulder hit. And the hole in his lower stomach. Readjusting you gun you peeked over your cover taking out a few of the advancing enemies. At your returned fire they all moved for cover. It gave you a really short amount of time to bind Jamie shoulder with a pressure bandage. You checked in the bullet had gone straight though his stomach only to see it hadn't. You returned fire again before stuffing gaze into the hole. All the while Jamies head rolled around with disoriented pained grunts.
“This is Doc. Requesting medevac,” you spoke into the coms. What greeted you was static. 
"It's gonna be ok Jamie, I got you mate," you said.
“This is doc, is anyone there?” you spoke again. Your eyes widened when the click of metal got you attention. A grenade had landed beside you. Faster than your brain could comprehend you grabbed it chucking it back over, throwing your body on Jamie. The blast rocked you slightly, throwing all manner of barbies and dust over you.
“THIS IS DOC! IS ANYONE THERE OVER!?” You yelled into the comm. Across the way you saw your other old team members pinned behind a building.
“I NEED assistance. Im pinned down,” you spoke again. 
“Well, this sounds familiar,” Adam's cold voice invaded your ears. Turning the swirling storm of panic into a sharped edged blade. He had cut your comms of from everyone else's. Set up a line just for the two of you.
“The fuck is happening Adam. You said this area was cleared,” you hissed.
“Oh did I. Must have been my mistake,” he muttered.
“I need assistance. Jamies down,” you hated him, you wanted to kill him. but you hoped that he still had some good in him. if not for you then for Jamie.
“Pity, sorry can't help you. It looks mighty dangerous over there,” your eyes wafted over the battlefield. You found Adam standing a way away. With a shit eating grin on his face. Half of your team was with him. They were moving away from the action, towards the exit. the panic stabbed right through your heart at the all to familiar sight.
“What the fuck are you doing Adam?” you asked. They were leaving you.
“We got orders to retreat. But it seems like they have a comm blocker. Can't get into touch with team bravo,” your blood ran cold, panic sweeping the breath from you lungs. Bravo team. The boys. 
“Looks like our intel was wrong to. Seems to be a lot more bogies than originally thought,” he stated a cackling chuckle leaving his lips.
“Good luck Maddog,” he smiled giving you a mock salute before turning and leaving. If it was any other situation you would have taken a moment to let the situation sink in. But this was battle, one moment could mean the difference between life and death. 
“GET OVER HERE!” You yelled across the way your old team members grateful for the sanctuary of orders in their blind panic. Rising up you provided covered as they rushed towards you.
“Mad dog,” Anna greeted your briefly. She swallowed unsure of what you were about to do. She was surprised when you placed you hand on her shoulder.
"You hit?" you still wore the same concerned frown you always had. She didn't understand why you still cared for her. Not after what she did. She numbly shock her head the other doing so as well.
“Take him and get your asses out of here,” you ordered nodding down to Jamie.
“Yes ma'am,” she nodded. You pulled a pin of a grenade and threw it. 
Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted down the hallways. Everybody you passed you searched for familiar features. Soap's mohawk. Ghosts mask. Prices hat. Gaz cap. It was a brutal game of tag between dread and relief. Then you saw them. Standing around a group of captured soldiers like it was a Tuesday lunch.
“Comms are on the fritz,” Gaz announced.
“Anyone got Doc's location?” Price asked.
“I'm here!” You announced. They all turned to you taking in your appearance. you were covered in dust. Sweat lines dragging through it like art.
“You look like shite,” Price grinned at you. Relife, utter relief filled you. They were ok. They were alive.
“Your hit,” Soap took notice of the blood first as they moved towards you.
“Just a scratch. We've got orders to retreat,” you stated. The boys frowned.
“But we completed the mission?” Gaz stated. They had. Lucky bastards cleared out the whole base themselves. 
“Those are the orders. Comms are being blocked,” you stated. 
“Alright, let's get going lads,” Price announced. You quickly made your way from the base and back to the transport. As you drove back you couldn't help but stare at the boys. Your heart was still pounding. The boys were joking about something or other. You looked down to Ghost hand that rested against his thigh. You were suddenly overcome by the need to see if it was real. If they were real. To make sure it wasn't some fantasies you had conjured up in your head. Ever so slightly your fingertips took ahold of the lose fabric. A deep breath left your lips as you held it tightly. He was there. They all were. Throwing you head back you rested it against the side of the truck tears glistening between your lashes. Ghost looked down at your hand, at your spaced breathing pattern. At the slight pinch of your brows as you finger clung so desperately onto his sleeve. Feeling pressure on you left side you opened your eyes to see Ghost had pressed himself against you. Your relished in the warmth and reassurance it gave you. It was subtle, unnoticed by the other boys. But it grounded you. Pulling your head out of the 'what ifs' to the now. 
When you got back to base your eyes locked in on Adam. He was laughing with his team. When they noticed you guys, they seemed shocked. Understandable, not many could do what your boys could.
“So, they weren't joking when they said you guys meant business. Gotta say I'm impressed,” Adam stated with a wide blown smile. Your team stopped in front of them.
You didn't.
It took three large strides to close the distance between you. And only a second for you to pull your knife from its holster and shove it against Adams neck, your other hand gripping his collar to hold him stead. 
“THE FUCK YOU PLAYING AT HUH!?” You screamed.
“Whoah hey hehehe,” he held his hands up in surrender.
“DOC STAND DOWN!” Price's order went over your head.
“I swear to god, anyone touches me, and I'll cut his throat,” you threat was real. You wanted them to give you an excuse to do it.
“Its alright Maddog. The fights over. Your safe,” Adam went to put a hand on your shoulder. His movements only stopped when you pushed the knife flush against his neck slicing the skin ever so slightly.
“How fucked up in the head are you? What makes you think you can get away with this huh?” you asked. The sly smile pulled over his lips.
“I dont know what you mean,” he said innocently. Fury, utter fury raged within you. You could feel you hand wanting to move. Wanting to slice his neck open and watching him bleed out infront of you.
“Y/N,” Price called softly. You were breathing erratically as you hand shock. Most thought you would actually do it. You flinched lightly as a hand encompassed your own. You looked to the side to see Ghost. His gaze soft. 
“Its alright. We got you,” he whispered softly. His hand trailed up your arm. to your hand which he gave a soft squeeze before pulling it back. He gently took the knife from your grasp. And you let him. 
“Good choice,” Adam swallowed. Your fist snapped out cracking into his face sending him on his ass. Ghost wrapped his arms around you pulling you back where Soap took the other side of you. 
“Enough!” Price yelled stepping between you two. 
“I don't give a fuck what you do to me. But the next time you throw my boys under the bus like that again it will be a bullet I put though your face. Not my fucking fist,” you seethed glaring dagger at him. He chuckled whipping the blood from his broken nose.
“And that's why she's called mad dog,” he uttered getting to his feet with the help of his men. Some which held guilty looks.
“Keep that one on a short leash captain. She can tend to wander,” you tried to get a second hit in, but the boys held you back.
“Walk it off sargent!” Price deamned pointing you in the opposite direction. 
“Yeah, walk it off,” Adam tainted. Price turned to glare at him.
“You stay the fuck away from her you understand boy," Price got into his face talking to his as if he would scold a child. And Adam hated that. Ripping yourself form the boys grasp you turned on you heel and stomped away. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You were all informed that another mission would take place the day after. After the whole ordeal the boys had looked for you. They were worried about you. You had completely disappeared. Nobody knew where you were. You hadn't signed out of the base. So, Gaze tracked your phone.
So there you stood hidden in the bushes as you stared at a certain grave not to far from you. You heard the boys walk up to your side. You were wearing a hood an a medical mask to cover your features.
“Visiting an old friend?” Price asked. They had all lost someone special to them. Whether it be a fellow soldier or family. You had hardly talked about your past, so they didn't know who you lost. 
“You guys shouldn't be here,” you whispered softly. Then from the hill emerged two people. And older man in his late fifties. Under his arm sat a bottle of whiskey. He had lanky legs and a beer belly. With a kind old smile on his face.
“Come on. You know how she gets when were late,” he called behind him. 
“Coming dad,” a teenage ran up to him. He had tosseled brown hair and stood just about as tall as his dad.
“Who are they?” Gaz asked.
“My family,” you whispered.
“You sure lass. Height dosent really add up,” Soap joked softly.
“What can I say. I lost the gene lottery,” you shrugged.
“You gonna go say hi?” Price asked.
“No,” you whispered solemnly. Getting the message that you wanted to be quiet they all slipped into silence.
“Still ordering me around huh?” A woman with olive skin and black hair walked up to them. A steak of silver shone in her perfect updo.
“We were married for eighteen years. I think I deserve some penance for my sentence,” the two smiled at each other. The divorce had been amicable, and they had become good friends after it. 
“Goodmorning sweetheart,” you father called softly a solemn smile gracing his features as they approached the grave.
“Sup cunt,” Your brother stated earning a slap from your mother.
“Dont be mean. Go on tell her what you did,” she encouraged him.
“So rember when you said I had a knack for engine and stuff. And I laughed and said I was just gonna become a millionaire,” he trailed o scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I got a scholarship to this really good school. Everything paid for. Dad was really happy about that,” the joke had your family smiling.
“It turns out you were right. I'm doing well. Really well. Skipped a grade. And I'm really enjoying it,” he stated.
“Got his cherry popped to,” you father said earning a blush from you brother.
"Her names Ella. Sweet little thing. Shes got him by the balls," your mother stated.
"Mum," he groaned with a heavy blush.
“I meet a man. His name is Greg. I think I'll being him next time,” your mother said.
“He's a cunt,” you father stated. 
“He's better in bed than your father,” she stated. You smiled as they slipped into their usual banter. The insults having the weight of jack shit. 
“Found this hidden in your little secret compartment,” you dad tapped his nose with a knowing look. The boys watched on as they talked to the grave like it was an actual person.
“Have a drink with your old man yeah?” he suggested. The drink was passed around as they all poured some in their cups. An extra cup was set atop the grave. 
“To our little girl. Shortest little shit I've ever meet,” they cheer.
"Happy birthday darling," you mother said. It was silent after that. Your family moved to hold each other as they mourned. Tears falling to the freshly cut grass.
“She would have been so proud of you,” you mother whispered running her hand through your brothers hair. 
“She would have been proud of us all. Thats just how she is,” he whispered back. You watched as they drank and talked about there lives. What they had been up to. The sun had begun to set when they decided to leave. Your bother lingered slightly tears rushing down his face.
“I miss you bitch,” he mumbled knocking his knuckles on the edge of the grave. The boys knew that move. You would do that to them wherever they went in for a fist bump. He turned and walked away. With a heavy heart you watched them leave. “Why didn't you say hello?” Soap asked. You didn't answer, instead you walked up to the grave and took the drink in hand. You swirled it around watching the car pull away. The boys slowly walked up to you examining the grave.
Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. 
Beloved daughter, friend and soldier.
“The fuck is this?” Soap asked in shock. They were all shocked, but they quickly put two and two together.
“It was part of the deal,” you rolled the words on your touge.
“What deal?” Price asked. You wanted to tell them. No, you needed to tell them. You couldn't go on another mission with the bloody hells. You had gotten lucky. Extremely lucky. Sure, telling them the truth might put you in a dangerous situation, but you would do it to protect them. And you trusted them.
“Way back there was a mission. Things went south. Adam got his hands on some valuable information. I stayed behind to make sure everyone was safe. And when I went to regroup with them,” you trailed off your throat becoming tight.
“They didn't wait for me. They left. Leaving me in a deep hole of shit. I was captured. Tortured for the information Adam had stolen. When they realized I wouldn't break they proposed a deal. The information for me. Adam didn't agree,” you recalled the events.
“The information wasn't intergyral, but it did make him rich. I don't know what he did with it. Probably sold it to a third party. When I realized, nobody was coming to save me, I got myself out. Came back here only to find out that they had all given reports that they had seen me gunned down. That they confirmed I was dead. Head office chucked it up to some bull shit Mirical. Having escaped I had a lot of heat on me. I had fucked around with some pretty important people. Friendly and otherwise. Turns out a lot of important people had their hands all over that mission. They went after my family. I made a deal with the military. In exchange for my families safely I would become there lacky,” you said nodding to the grave. “If I stayed quiet about it all,” you added.
“By all official records I am dead. Only a few choices military know otherwise. They thought I was a nifty little card to hold. Someone they could send where every they want to do whatever they wanted. No red strings attached. Someone that technically didn't exist. A ghost,” you chuckled bitterly.
"I was actually doing their dirty work when we first meet. I was surprised when they gave the green light to join the 141," you took a sip of the drink.
“In the end I was supposed to die on that mission. They used my family as leverage to insure I had,” you whispered looking deep into the dark liquid.
“Why are you telling us now? Wy not before?” Price asked solemnly.
“He threated you guys, told me to behave,” you admitted.
“So why tell us?” Ghost asked.
“Because I'm scared,” you admitted honestly. Your breath shock as you turned to them your eyes welling with tears.
“On that mission. He cut the comms. He lied bout the numbers. He sent you guys into a trap and he fucking smirked at me while he did it,” your hands trembled as they gripped the drink.
“I was so scared I had lost you guys,” you said. 
“I was scared to lose another family,” you cried. It meant a lot to the boys to hear that. That word. Family. That exactly what they were to you. And that's exactly what you were to them.
"But were here love. Were all alright,” Gaz tried to lighten you up.
“By sheer dumb luck!” you snapped.
“I know I might lose you one day. I've known that for a long time. Were soldiers. That comes with the uniform, but I'll be dammed if I let that fucker be the one that does it,” you huffed. Silence washed over you as you looked each of them in the eye stopping at Ghost. “You guys mean too much to me,’" you added. "So please. Don't send us on another mission with him,” you begged turning to Price. 
“He can't know I told you about it ither,” you added. Price walked up to you his expression deathly serious. 
“Then why would he risk you coming back here?” he asked. You shrugged frustrated with it all.
“I-I don't know. I don't know if he's goanna hurt my family. If he's gonna hurt, you. If he wants to finish the job he started?” you gestured to him. There it was again. That anxiety. Seeing the start of your panic Price stepped forward again. 
“Come er,” you were slightly surprised when he pulled you into his chest. He held you firmly as he tucked you head under his chin. 
“It's gonna be alright love. You've done well,” he whispered. It felt like the hugs your father used to give. You reached up gripping the back of his shirt and hugging him tightly the tears free falling.
“We got you,” he whispered.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On the drive back you were sandwiched in the back with Ghost and Soap. You had been silent since the graveyard. Which wasn't like you.
“Can we get hungry jacks?” You asked. It was a relief to the boys to hear that. At least you were still hungry.
“Yeah, we can do that,” Price nodded. It was quite funny watching price try and order for the whole car. Especially because the drive thru guy couldn't understand there accents half the time. And Soap yelling from the back just made it worse. After getting the food you picked away at it happily as you drove back to base. Ghost paused as he felt a wight drop against his shoulder. He looked down at you to see you fast asleep. You mouth open mid chew. A burger in one hand and a drink in the other. Soap smiled when he noticed taking a quick picture before taking the food from your hands. When the car stopped, they all piled out, except Ghost and you.
“Coming?” Soap asked bending down through the door.
“I'll stay a little bit,” Ghost whispered. Soap smiled knowingly giving a nod and silently closing the door. 
It was two hours before you stirred awake. 
“We here?” you asked finishing chewing the remnants of the burger.
“Yeah,” Ghost murmured getting out of the car. You followed after him frowning when you saw a wet patch on his shoulder. Whipping the dribbled form the corner of your lips you shrugged.
"You got a wet patch there," you stated.
"No I don't," he stated.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next day you and the boys sat down decided on what to do. When you explained in more detail about what went down in the mission the boys were furious. 
And lets just say that the 141 gets even. 
The mission involved clearing out a safe house of sorts. A back up base. During the next mission you walked into a room, gun raised with Gaz on point. You were right behind him. Everything was going perfectly. Till it wasn't. 
The movement was so quick you only saw what had happened when you turned. Gaz stood, with Adam behind him. A gun pressed against his temple. Terror took ahold of you as you mad eye contact with Gazs own fear filled pupils. You paused in the doorway. Adam didn't know the other two were there. 
“Let him go Adam, lower the gun” you demanded. Price and Ghost pressed themselves against the wall. 
“Come on Maddog. You know I can't do that,” he stated. You glanced out the doorway as Price held up five fingers. He was asking how many were in the room. You glanced around. It was only Adam. 
“Looking for your friends?” he asked. Price had told him the team would split in two. It was part of your plan. Price slowly put his fingers down.
“Of course,” You answered when Price got to one. Price turned to Ghost giving him hand signs before nodding him off. He looked back at you tapping his watch. 
Buy some time. They were your orders. The comms was open so you could hear Ghost rapid footsteps.
“Unlike you I know they have my back,” you said.
“Cute. Drop the gun,” he ordered.
“Or I can shoot you,” You suggested.
“I know you're a good shoot but that's cutting it a bit close huh?” he asked sliding further behind Gaz. He was right. You ran the risk of hitting Gaz. 
“Get him Doc,” Gaz encouraged you. Your face scrunched up as Adam shock him slightly pressing the barrel painfully further into his skull. Chucking you gun to the side you glared.
“Good girl. Now on your knees,” he demanded. You obeyed.
“Put those on,” he kicked forward a pair of zip ties. 
“What are you doing Adam? Whats your plan this time huh?” you asked.
“Well, this plan is a little more brutal than my last. After all I tried so hard to make it look like an accident. I knew you bleeding heart wouldn't leave that kid. I even told then to target you as well. But no, you just won't die huh? You should have just died Y/N,” he hissed. You stared at him. 
Adam was more than just your former commander. He was your best friends since diapers. You had grown up together. Your bond used to be the strongest in the world. You had entered the military together, built up your carrers and skills side by side.
“What happened to you Adam?” You asked. The man before you was a shadow of the one you once loved so dearly.
“I got smart, that's what happened,” he spat.
“This isn't like you. The Adam I knew would have never sold me out for a lousy paycheck,” you were buying time. But you were also trying to reason with your friend. 
“Would you just quit it. I've always been on the bottom run. Always poor. Do you know how differently they looked at me with my raggy shoes?” he asked.
“So you sold me out to get rich then?” you asked.
"Wow. Smart you are. And no, I didn't sell you out. You were just a chess piece. A tool to get what I wanted” he said.
“You know that's not true,” you murmered. You could see it, the conflict inside him, however small it was it was still there. 
“Please, just put down the gun,” you begged. For a second he saw you, only a younger you. And instead of begging to put his gun down you were begging him to stop shooting you with a water gun. You wore such a bright smile. Perhaps he had loved you once. Along time ago. But that side of him had died a long time ago.
"I really should have killed you that day," he admitted.
"Then why didn't you?" you asked.
"Because I was weak. I let you live because I didn't have the guts to kill you myself," he hissed.
"Thats not a problem now," Your eye's widened as the gun turned to you. The window shattered as Ghost emerged from it having sung down from the higher level. The distraction allowing Gaz to shove Adam back. All the while you pulled your handgun from its hoister and pulled the trigger.
Two shots' still rung out. 
Pain split through your left chest as the bullet cleaved through you. 
“GAH!” you hit the ground. Adam body following shortly after a bullet hole sizzling between his eyes, his brains splattered over the wall.
“DOC!” Your vision blurred with tears as you hand was forced away from your wound. 
“Fuck,” Ghost grunted as he ripped you vest from you. With your luck the bullet had just missed the vest. Since you were still gasping for breath, you gathered it hadn't hit your lungs or vital organs, but it stung like a bitch. You were jostled up into a seated position. Where your sanity somewhat returned to you.
“Theres and exit wound,” Ghost stated. 
“FUCKING HELL!” you yelled as they started to shove gauz into the hole. 
“Gaz?” you blindly searched for him.
“Right here Doc,” he said giving your leg a squeeze. You gaze focused to see them crowded around you. Price standing guard while Soap tended to the wound and Ghost held you up. 
“That really hurts,” you chuckled a laugh before grunting again.
“You are one lucky little fucker,” Price huffed.
“Who me?” you asked.
“Can you walk?” he asked as Soap finished tying off the bandage. His eyes glanced down at the bandages that quickly became soaked in blood. He didn't like how fast it had happened.
“Walk? I fell like a running a marathon,” you joked. 
“Ghost,” he nodded to Ghost who nodded back.
“Let's move,” he said. With Ghost taking most of your weight you started making you way from the base. With a fleeting look to the dead corps, you felt your eyes close.
You had passed out somewhere between leaving the room and getting back to the transport.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
While you were unconscious Price made some bullshit excuse for Adams death. The excuse worked well. Nobody questioned anything. After all missions go south all the time.  He was simply listed as a casualty. That was all the respect he deserved.
When it was time to go home you at in the plane your shoulder in a sling. You were on strict orders not to use it for a bit. Your mind reeled with Adam dead gaze. At the moment you took aim and pulled the trigger. Did you want to kill him. Never. Would you have done it save on of your boys. Defiantly, without a moment's hesitation.
“Y/N,” you stood as you saw Jamie run towards you stopping at the plane ramp. Well waddle as best he could in his state.
“What's up kid?” you asked.
“Thankyou, for everything,” he yelled as the plane started up. He was a good kid.
You gave him one of your signature smiles. The one you always gave him before everything went to shit.
“Look after yourself alright,” you yelled.
“You have friends here Y/N. Whenever you need. We owe you that much!” he called. You nodded.
“Goodby Jamie,” you called as the ramp lifted. Silently you walked over to your seat struggling with your buckle.
“Need help?” Ghost asked. You nodded. Reaching over he quickly buckled you in pulling the strap tight.
“You know I've been wondering. Why Maddog?” Soap asked. A melancholy smile graced your lips. 
“I bit the finger off the doctor that was giving me a shot. Adam was there for it. The doc called me a mad dog. Name kinda stuck,” you shrugged.
“So you did bight his finger off?” Ghost asked.
“I did. Rember that next time you fuckers try and give e a shoot,” you said clacking your teeth together in a biting motion. 
“God help your future partner,” Soap shock his head. You all chuckle. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When you were back at base you sat out on the little patio a beer in hand. You were simply thinking. about it all. You wondered if you had done something different if it would have changed everything.
Ghost silently walked out stopping by your side to offer a cigarette. You shock your head.
"He was more than a team leader to you, wasn't he?" Ghost asked.
"How did you know?" you asked.
"The look of regret you had when you saw his corps," he stated simply.
"We grew up together. Thought I was gonna marry him for a bit," you whispered.
"You did what needed to be done," was he trying to reassure you?
"Doesn't make it any less painful," you whispered.
"I faced something similar. Had to end two of my teammates. Their brains had been corrupted. They had changed," he began telling his story.
"Did you ever forgive yourself?" you asked.
"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.
"Well, I have no regrets," you stated.
"Really?" he asked.
"I'll never forgive myself for killing him. But I'll never regret it," You stated standing up and finishing your drink.
"Whys that?" he asked.
"Because no one messes with my boys and gets away with it," you stated with a cheeky smile patting his should.
"Thats for trying to reassure me. Ya big softy," you smiled brightly.
"I'm not soft," he grunted.
"Yaha of course you're not," You cooed in a baby voice.
"I will end you," he threated making you laugh.
That night you and Ghost would drink till the early hours of the morning, simply talking.
"We should get to bed Ghost," you stated standing upon your wobbly legs.
"It's Simon," you head snapped around to him.
"What?" you asked.
"My name. Its Simon. You can call me that if you like. But not in front of anyone that's not the team," he said.
"Well Simon. Its officially nice to meet you. My names Y/N," you said holding you hand out for him to shake. He shook took you hand covering it completely from view.
"Big ass hand mother fucker," you grumbled drunkenly before trotting off. Simon following after you making sure you didn't run into anything.
================================================
--COD Master List Here--
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The Early Bird Gets The Worm - Chapter 1
The Early Bird Gets The Worm
Chapter 1 -  9 Out 10 Doctors Prescribe Child Rearing for Emotionally Constipated Families
Written by @agent-sushi-fbi & myself uwu
Read it on AO3 here!
Masterpost | Chapter Two Was he still wearing traffic light colors? No. Was Bruce going senile as he got older? Yes, and he was gathering evidence of it every day.
Dick wondered once again why they were having so many issues between them as he swung to the next rooftop, landing almost gracefully amongst the leftover rain on the asphalt. Stumbling on his feet was embarrassing nonetheless and he grumbled to himself as he kicked a pebble across the roof, watching as it hit an old AC unit with a hollow clang. Honestly, he came to Gotham to help Bruce out of the goodness of his heart while Tim is out of town and how does the man respond? By treating him like he's still a little Robin meant to dutifully take orders without question!
“Fucking old man, treating me like I'm a kid,” Dick muttered under his breath, not caring who heard him nearby, he was alone on the roof anyway.
“This ‘fucking old man’ can still hear you,” Batman’s deadpan voice came over the line. Dick froze on the spot, shoulders tightening as he heard the quiet undertones of anger. Oops, comms were still on and open to the shared channel… “Either mute your comms or keep those thoughts to yourself, Nightwing.”
Dick pondered for a minute, putting his hand on his chin like he was really thinking on the idea before he responded. “Nope, I'll pass,” he told Batman cheekily, smirking to himself. He was an adult now. While Bruce may have taken him in and taught him all he knew at Dick's lowest point, it doesn't mean the man gets to treat him like a child anytime he comes by home Gotham.
He was his own grown man. Nightwing had his own city to protect now–he was even a well-established member of the hero community in his own right! He didn’t need some emo flying furry telling him what to do anymore. Covering his eyes from the light drizzle that had picked up again, he observed the area below him, staying alert for any sort of disturbance that may pop up and ignoring Bruce’s displeased grunts. It wouldn’t be good if Dick were to miss a crime after their little “spat” earlier, as Aflred would call it. A screaming match was a more accurate description if you asked anyone else, and he was not willing to let it open him up to more criticism from the “World’s Greatest Detective” later on when they were back in the Cave.
Stiffly, the black and blue clad vigilante stalked to the edge of the darkened rooftop, trying his best to not clench his fists like some angsty teenager. What was he even hoping to gain, coming back here? The man stood, pondering as he gazed down at the busy streets of his childhood home. A pat on the head, like the good little dog he was acting like? Bruce calls, so he comes running? Dick scoffed at himself, turning his head sharply. He aimed his grapple, firing it at the corner of a nearby building. With the grace born from years of practice, Nightwing danced between towering structures as he continued his Batman-approved patrol route.
“Nightwing, behave yourself over comms or you will go back to the Cave for the night.” Dick grit his teeth, jaw clenched tight as Bruce tried to basically ground him. He shook his head, preparing to land on the next rooftop, but stopping just shy to grab onto a gargoyle sitting on the edge of a lower office building. Leaning against the cold surface, Dick felt the sharp points of the creature’s horns digging into his back help to ground him in the moment. 
“Batman, you do not have a say over my actions or whether I am benched anymore,” Dick told him, evenly spacing out his breaths as he tried to keep the rage at bay. He felt like there was a ball of heat in his chest he was desperately trying to cool as he methodically rubbed his gloved fingers over the stone ridges of the statue's ugly face. 
“Nightwing–” Bruce started to grunt, so Dick turned off his comms as a response and took in a deep breath of the familiar, smoggy Gotham air. This city may not have been where he was born, and he may not live here anymore, but the man found peace flying through her night sky. This would always be his home. As ugly and villain-infested as it may be… This shithole was his shithole.
Ever since Jason passed, Dick knew things needed to change so he could preserve this feeling and keep this dysfunctional family intact. Tim helped a lot in the beginning, when Dick was too bitter to do more than practically tell a thirteen-year-old to handle a drunkard on his own. But, he's trying to make up for it now by helping on patrol and making them all participate in family dinners twice a month. It wasn't much, and he could admit it wasn't really working since he'd noticed Tim wearing sound proof headphones more often than not when Dick and Bruce were together. It broke his heart that another little brother of his felt like he needed to prepare himself for an inevitable screaming match from his family members. 
Dick was trying, he really was. But Bruce just made everything so hard. 
He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of multiple trash cans falling over each other nearby. His face twisted in confusion, eyebrows scrunching together as his head whipped around to find the source of the noise. Body becoming a tightly coiled spring of focused intent, he silently crept closer to where he heard the cacophony. The noise became apparent in the way of a metal lid rolling out of the alley below and into the street like a quarter, spinning and spinning for a moment before falling flat. Dick cautiously peered over the edge of the roof, eyebrow raised at what he could imagine he'd find. A goon passed out drunk? A working girl kicking the nuts of a deadbeat harassing her? An internet famous Gotham-patented radioactive raccoon?
What he certainly did not expect was an unruly mop of black hair peeking out above the trash cans, only visible against the dark of night in contrast to the silver metal they clung to with tiny baby hands. He watched in disbelief as this child (so tiny and cute, he had to admit) stumbled to their feet, swaying as little as they reached for the contents of the trash. Dick felt sick just looking at the spill, but he felt worse knowing the child was doing this out of desperation. Tapping on his lenses, they zoomed in on the kid and he saw how small they were and how scrawny they looked. Alfred would faint at the sight of how skinny this child was and Dick would be right there with the old butler.
Making a quick decision, Dick hastily hopped onto a pipe that clung to the building he stood on and quietly slid down it like a fireman's pole. He didn't want to scare the small child who, at closer inspection now that he was on the ground, looked similarly disgusted at their options before them. The kid was still swaying, the movement picking up in speed before they plopped onto the asphalt, groaning. 
Dick rushed forward, panicking, but his sudden burst of speed startled the child. The tiny twig of a human scrambled back, a weakened wheeze of panic bursting from their lungs as they held out a small hand to ward off the vigilante.
“Hey, hey now,” Dick soothed as he crouched down to make himself seem smaller. “It’s okay, you’re okay…I’m not gonna hurt you.” The practiced “soothe the victim” voice was easy to fall into as domino-covered eyes worryingly took in the shaking child. He wanted to reassure this kid as much as possible, but he knew that he couldn't promise them anything. Making a promise to a child was important, he learned young that if you couldn't keep that promise the child would see it as a loss of trust.
“S-stay back!” The kid’s squeaky voice tugged at Dick’s heartstrings with how much terror it held. “Yo-you can’t t-take me!”
Dick slowly lowered himself to fully sit down on the filthy, trash-covered alley. He grimaced at the smell (was that sludge on his glove?) and he crossed his legs, letting his arms hang disarmingly on his knees. Keeping his body language loose and unassuming, Dick smiled goofily at the other. “My name’s Nightwing, I’m one of the heroes here in Gotham tonight. You’re safe now, no one’s going to take you while I'm here.”
Icy blue eyes peered out from behind a dirt-stained hand, reminding Dick of a different time, a different alley-found kid who was taken too soon. By Batman's stinky cowl would he let another one be lost to the horrors of this city as well. When the kid spoke, their voice was full of doubt. “How can I trust you? For all I know you could be some weirdo looking to kidnap me!”
A surprised laugh burst from Dick before he could contain himself, causing the filthy child to flinch away with a startled squeak. He sobered up quickly at that reaction however, leaning away from the kid to give the illusion Dick was no longer directly in their space, but still close enough to keep an eye on them. He's met children like this before, wary of adults or the world around them in general, only relying on themselves at an age where they can't do enough to keep their heads above water. Blinking rapidly at the thought to hold back his tears, Dick remembered when Jason first came to the manor. Even as distant as he was with his brother at the time, he saw how the pre-teen acted out of self preservation even months into Alfred's mother-henning.
This kid had the same fear written in the lines on his young face, as well as the same steel of determination in his eyes. Dick respected it, but he still was worried about this child who looked like they hadn't eaten a proper meal or slept in a bed in months. 
“I might be a weirdo to some people for sure,” Dick agreed casually. The kid blinked in surprise and he grinned a little in triumph, quickly smothering it with a serious expression. Exaggerating his actions, Dick twisted his head this way and that around the alley as though checking for anyone listening in, before he leaned a little bit forward with his hand blocking his mouth. The child shuffled forward a few inches, alternating between staring him down and checking the alley themselves with wide eyes. Dick resisted the urge to laugh again, focusing on trying to ease the kid into believing that he was safe.
“Between you and me? My friends think I'm a super big weirdo for putting peach jam in my pb & j's,” he told the kid, nodding his head sagely. All he got was a deadpan look in response, all of the sudden interest he got was lost from the kid before him.
“So you're not just a weirdo, but also super lame with no taste buds?” 
Wow, okay, so Dick was a little offended… or maybe he was impressed? The kid gave him a look that was reminiscent of Alfred or Jason when he tried to argue he could help in the kitchen. The “are you seriously this stupid to defend yourself like that” look. 
Yeah, maybe a little more offended than anything. Didn't mean the kid wasn't cute while doing it. 
Quick thinking made Dick grab at his uniform with striped fingers, gripping the fabric around his heart. “Ouch!” He wailed dramatically, flopping his legs forward as he used his toned core muscles to lean backwards, careful to not let more of the filthy alley touch him. “Ah! Truly a strong opponent, I cannot win!”
Quiet giggles echoed around the alley, causing Dick to grin in triumph. He titled his head to the side a bit to better see the small child. Their face was scrunched up in mirth, both hands covering their mouth in an attempt to better muffle the joyful sounds trying to escape. Encouraged by this, Dick resolved to continue to give the best performance of his life.
“I will simply never recover,” Dick moaned, making his body twitch dramatically. “This is how I die…the great Nightwing, struck down in a battle of wits by a toddler!” He gasped, reaching one hand up to the sky as he gave his big finale. “I can…see the light! It’s calling me…must…go…” He murmured quietly before giving a final spasm with an extremely convincing “blegh”, letting his arm drop to his chest and sticking his tongue out of his mouth.
As the giggles continued, they got closer. Peaking an eye open just a bit, Dick could see the kid toddling closer to the felled hero. “You’re silly,” they said, poking at Dick’s cheek hesitantly. “That’s not what death looks like.”
Dick could feel his heart shatter. This kid, no more than, what? Maybe four or five years old? This poor, tiny child was trying to correct Dick on what dying looked like. It made Bludhaven’s protector want to just scoop them up and wrap them up in a giant, fluffy blanket and protect them from the world.
“It’s a good thing I’m not actually dead then, huh?” Dick said with a grin, trying so hard to not let what he was feeling filter through. Bright smile for the tiny concerning child, bright smile.
The child cocked their head to the side like a curious puppy. “Well, duh,” the little thing scoffed, relaxing a bit at the horizontal hero. “I'd know it if you were actually dead.”
*****************
He really needed to get some meat on this kid’s bones, like immediately. Dick felt like he was carrying a small bag of potatoes while he grappled through the streets of downtown Gotham towards Wayne Enterprises to meet B for their patrol check in. Maybe if he showed the kid to Alfred, he could just keep him safe at the manor and he wouldn't worry about the tiny thing in his arms being so tiny anymore.
“Where are we going?” A squeaky voice shouted in his left ear. Was there a ringing bell nearby? 
Dick smirked, glancing quickly at the child before shooting his gun at the side of Wayne Enterprises, clicking the side button and rocketing them up the side of the skyscraper. He heard a soft gasp over the rush of wind before his world was filled with small, uncontrollable giggles and Dick tightened his hold.
“We gotta meet up with someone, little one!” He cheerfully shouted back as the duo landed at the top of the tower. With his feet squarely against solid concrete, Dick set the child down to face away from the large drop off the side of the building. He was worried the kid would either get scared, or want to try jumping off and he wasn't sure which was worse right now. A quick glance around told Dick that Bruce was still doing his own patrol. “Just stay away from the edge, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the little sass monster said as they shakily walked towards the center of the helipad. “I’m not dumb.”
“Uh huh,” Dick sassed back as he hovered over the kid. “You wanna tell me your name yet?”
Cold eyes narrowed as the child looked up at Dick. “No, you’re still a weirdo.”
Yikes, Dick thought. Whoever this kid's parents were deserved an award for raising such a menace to society. “Okay, okay,” he said airly. “I’ll figure it out one day, just you watch.”
“Oh, so now you’re a stalker, too?” The kid said as they flopped onto the concrete flooring. “Maybe I should’ve run away. Stranger danger and all that nonsense.” They flapped an itty-bitty hand dismissively.
“I thought we established that I wasn’t a stranger already?” Dick wasn’t pouting. He was an adult, and adults don’t pout at children winning in a battle of sass.
“No, we just established that you don’t know what it looks like when people die. Do you even pay attention to anything?”
Dick rolled his eyes, sauntering over to nudge his foot against the kid's thigh. “I paid enough attention to notice that you're good at avoiding questions. Why is that?”
“Nunya,” they told him. Dick felt the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. No, he would not act like Bruce.
“Nope, I'm not playing that one,” Dick told the kid, who pouted that they couldn't finish the joke. “Come on, I can't keep calling you ‘kid’ or ‘that tiny child lighter than a grape’ now can I?”
They squinted at Dick, crossing their arms awkwardly since they seemed to refuse moving from their starfish position on the ground. “Rude. You talk to every kid you meet like that?”
Dick smirked, “Just the ones who think they’re tall enough to talk back? Where do you reach on me again?” Dick mimed checking the kid's height against himself and stopped with it below his knees. Was it petty to make fun of the small child’s height? Yes, but he didn’t care. “Oh right, sorry but you're not tall enough to verbally attack this adult.”
“Whatever,” they muttered, turning away from Dick. But he noticed the kid kept him within their peripheral vision, just enough of an angle to pretend they couldn't see Dick even if his every movement was being tracked by blue eyes. It was just like how Jason acted, back when he was first introduced to life in the manor. Luckily, that meant that Dick had more than enough experience with snotty scared children to make sure this one kept feeling safe around him.
“So,” Dick said after a few moments of silence. “Like I said earlier, we’re gonna be meeting up with someone. But what I didn't mention was that it's Batman.”
“What kind of name is that?” The kid said, their spunk seemingly reviving itself in the few minutes where they didn’t speak. “Who wakes up one morning and decides to name their kid things like Nightwing and Batman?”
Dick spluttered. “It’s a superhero name, kid. It’s meant to not be normal.”
“You should’ve been named Jeff. Now Jeff is a good name.”
Dick paused, scrunched his nose a little in confusion before responding. “So, do you want me to call you Jeff since you like it so much?”
The kid scoffed, not fully paying attention and obviously still insulting him mentally. “Pffsh, no, call me Danny because my name isn't Jeff, stupid.”
Dick smiled like the cat who ate the canary. “Well, well, Danny is such a nice name,” he told Danny. Dick was enjoying the expression on his face when he realized that he messed up, the horror seeping into his features and a devastated tilt to his lips as he turned to Dick. “Thank you for telling me, now is Danny short for anything?”
Danny pouted and it was so cute Dick wanted to coo and squish his little cheeks. “No, just Danny, you weirdo.”
“No last name?” Dick prodded, poking at Danny’s thigh.
“You’re subtle.”
“And you’re going to answer!” Dick cheerfully said, walking around to stand at the front of the black-haired boy.
“You can’t make me do anything,” Danny glared up at Dick, arms still crossed. “You’re not my dad.”
Dick wasn't sure why that comment stung unlike the others, but he moved past it. He scoffed obnoxiously and mimicked Danny's pose, jutting his hip out in a move of pure sass. “Well I may not be but–”
“Nightwing.”
Dick froze with whatever bullshit he'd pull out of his ass dying on his lips. He saw Danny raise a questioning eyebrow at the scene, clearly interested in the drama, but Dick didn't focus on it. Instead, like always, he responded to Batman's voice. It didn't matter he wasn't Robin anymore and someone else held the title, it didn't matter he was all grown up and had his own name now. When Batman called, a Robin always whistled back, standing at attention like the “good little soldiers” they were. 
Sighing, he turned around and put his hands behind his back, feet spread apart as he nodded at Batman. Because this wasn't his father figure, the man who raised him despite the emotional intelligence of an ant. This was Batman, who didn't take disappointment or inadequacy from his sidekicks. No matter what happens, we'll always be little soldiers reporting for duty, won't we?
“Batman, no unusual activity for the night. There were the two robberies I reported on patrol, as well as stopping a street girl from being taken into an alley and shot. Oracle has the recordings from my suit already uploaded for review.” Simple, to the point, just the way Bruce liked it. All done.
“Hrn.” 
What? What did he forget?
“Hey! Why do you go around with your underwear outside your pants like that?” Danny interrupted.
Oh…right, he forgot about Danny for a minute there.
The silence across the rooftop was louder than any words shouted into the night sky could be. Dick tensed as he shifted, covering more of Danny from Batman's view as he watched the man's cowl wrinkle up. Internally he winced, wishing he had honestly thought this out better but at the time, he had only been focused on gaining Danny's trust. Once he had it, something in him wouldn't let the kid go and, frankly, he didn't want to. But in hindsight, this was definitely not one of his best ideas. He snorted lightly, thinking Jason would have made fun of him for being an idiot right now–like the time he tried to catch a runaway ice cream cart and slipped into a pile of cold sugar that spilled on the ground instead.
“Why do you have a civilian child here, Nightwing?” Batman practically growled, causing Dick to frown and tense his shoulders in a defensive response. He knew the man had been having problems since Jason's death. Tim had been trying his best to help Bruce out of a dark place, but sometimes he seemed to fall back into those old, angrier patterns on them. It was not appreciated, but he knew it took time to work through grief. It was small mercies the man wasn't sending people to the hospital or himself into an early grave on the daily anymore.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, during my patrol I noticed a disturbance in an alley and–”
“He met me! So, why are you looking at Nightwing like he's a bad guy, Batman? Aren't you two friends?” Danny popped up at his side all of a sudden. Dick startled, quickly shooting a glance at where the boy had been five feet away and he wondered at how he didn't hear so much as a squeak until Danny spoke. “You shouldn't be mean to your friends,” he nodded sagely at his own words and Dick held in a snort of amusement. “That's what she always used to tell me.”
Dick paused. Danny hadn't mentioned anyone he knew before now. Ignoring Batman's glowering, he tilted his head down to catch Danny's eyes. But the kid was gazing past them both, the bright blue dulling in the throes of some kind of possible memory. Telegraphing his movements slowly, Dick lightly touched the tips of his fingers to Danny's shoulder and whispered his name. “Danny? You okay in there, bud?”
It took a moment for the kid to shake his head like an old, wet dog, blinking slowly and gazing back at Dick. He nodded, glancing down at his tiny hands as though they held all of the answers to the universe’ most difficult questions. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”
“You spaced out there a little bit,” Dick carefully told him. He watched Danny’s eyebrow’s furrow and mentally debated pushing. He was curious if the child would open up to him a little despite the hulking bat furry standing behind him like a living shadow. Cautiously, he held his hand a little more firmly on Danny’s shoulder and asked him what he was wondering. “Danny, who is this ‘she’ you mentioned?”
“Uhh…” Danny stalled, titling his head and giving an awkward smile that was barely more than a tick of the lips and didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know?”
“Alright, kiddo.” Dick murmured, a bit disheartened hearing the response, but doing his best to not show it. He gave a sharp nod and turned his head to look at his mentor. “But, yeah, B he’s right. Shouldn’t you be nicer to me?”
“You’re endangering a child, Nightwing.” Batman growled, disapproval practically flowing off the man. It took years upon years for Dick to understand the different levels of Bruce’s inflections and what they meant, like learning a whole new language. But now? It was clear as day to him looking at the man. The big, bad bat was pissed and disappointed at his oldest protege’s actions. Dick tried to not let it hurt him (and show on his face) as much as it did.
But he also felt a flare of anger swell up in his chest. Indignant, Dick stepped forward, close enough to block Danny completely from Batman's sight and get in the Dark Knight’s face. “You want to talk about endangering children, B? You would know all about that, wouldn't you? Picking us up off the streets like party favors.” 
Dick shook his head, a scoff falling from his lips as his hands vibrated with the anger now burning his veins at the hypocrisy of the moment. A quick tug to his leg made him stumble though, and he almost fell when Danny barged past him. A cry on the tip of his tongue, Dick watched as the little tyke stomped over to Batman and crossed his tiny arms. 
“Hey! He may be a total weirdo, but Nightwing is really nice and he's been taking good care of me!” Danny pointed a finger at Batman and Dick realized with dawning horror and amusement that this child was lecturing B, for him. He felt his heart beat as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “So you stop bullying him right now!”
“Kid,” B started gruffly, reaching a hand to grab him, probably. But Danny smacked his gloved hand away and took a shaky step back. He stumbled over his feet closer to where a stunned Dick stood, gaping at the scene before him. 
“NO! I DON'T WANT YOU TO TOUCH ME, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! HE'S NOT NICE!” Danny shouted at the top of his lungs, shaking arms firmly clung to either side of him. His body faced Batman, but his head was turned to a spot just over the man's shoulder. The kid started swaying side to side again, and Dick knew that tears were welling in Danny’s eyes even if he couldn’t see the boy’s face.
Dick scrambled forward, recognizing the signs from earlier. The vigilante caught the child in his arms and pulled out his grapple gun. “We will discuss this more later, at the Cave. But right now Danny is upset, so I'm going to take him to Agent A. For the rest of the night, you're on your own.”
He whispered comforting nonsense to the shaking, brooding child in his arms as he walked away and didn't look back. Not even when Danny heavily propped his chin on Dick's shoulder to keep an eye on Batman as they left. “What was all that about Danny? Who were you yelling at?”
Dick was sure Danny wasn’t talking to Bruce at that time, his head had been tilted too far to the left and he spoke as though he were talking about Bruce to someone else. But no one had been there. It made him a little concerned he might have something in his system and resolved to have Alfred examine him after they got some real food into Danny. 
Danny cut him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, not bothering to move his head’s position and smirked maliciously. If he didn't think everything about this kid was adorable, he'd probably be unnerved at the expression, paired with little baby fangs poking past his lips he hadn’t noticed earlier. Danny replied to him, but in a loud enough voice so that it would carry across the roof to where they left Bruce, no doubt standing guard as he watched them leave.
“I was talking to the ghosts that follow him, duh.”
205 notes · View notes
liveontelevision · 5 months
Note
If I don't get more to that babysitter story soon I might just go into full withdrawals.
Well shit here you go bbg
Exams are mostly over which means I can suffer more! :)
This is definitely gonna be a multi-part series at this point, and I am working on part 3 already so - ya
Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.
Enjoy this very angsty mildly smutty
(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Suffer Pt. 2 | Lucifer x Reader
Things didn't exactly get easier for you after your stupid dalliance with Lucifer. Obviously, you lost your job. But you were a nanny, you lived in the manor. And now you have to find new housing somewhere else in Hell. You haven't been out on the streets in years, and protection was essentially guaranteed as a royal staff member, so it was definitely.. a change of pace. Getting some tips from your previous coworkers who lived outside the manor, you did your best to weave through the murderous streets to find some sort of safety.
“Hello? Anyone home?” The apartment you entered was located in a ratty-looking motel that sat in the middle of a more secluded area in Pentagram City. No matter how dirty, it did seem a little safer considering the distance between other sinners. Scanning the apartment, considering no one answered to your previous call, you hesitantly stepped through the door. An imp you used to work with at the hotel advised you to take some sort of protection out there. He handed you an incredibly sleek pistol. It was tiny, even compared to the size of your smaller hands. It was easy to slip in and out of the little holster on your outer thigh. Scoffing at the idea of needing to shoot anyone, you accepted it humbly. Just to be safe.
Looking out a busted window, surrounded by broken glass, you saw the demon who must've lived here. A twisted corpse, covered in splatters of blood and dirt. A long angelic spear, still standing, sits firmly in the center of their chest, a collection of other stab wounds littered across the rest of the body. Fuck. You knew about exterminations, everyone did. It was always a solemn day back at the manor, but you’ve never witnessed its actual afflictions. You stumbled backward, tripping over some random debris and falling to the floor, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The fear you felt, the sharp pain in your palms where the glass shards had pierced you, it was all too much. Struggling to your knees, you crawl to the wall, leaning back against it with a thud. A sudden paranoia that someone may hear any noise you made, kept your breathing shallow. You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting in the dark room entirely alone. You wished you weren't alone. You wished he was here.
The last extermination day was about three months ago, so you knew the place hadn't been touched in at least that long. And as gruesome as it may sound, you now had a place to stay in the meantime. But, what are you supposed to do now? You were sure there weren't any families in Hell looking for a babysitter.. You could do little things, like mending clothes, cooking, and cleaning, but.. None of those skills were strong enough to get you into anything remotely as comfortable as being a royal nanny. Cell Phones were a thing at this time, but you never had a reason to have one before, so that’d be something you have to work for. You were essentially starting from scratch, as if you had just arrived in Hell.
You had to take to the streets. Walking nervously, with one hand on your little emergency weapon, you peeked into stores to see who might be hiring. Surprisingly, a quaint little bakery was just around the corner. Stepping inside, the little bell notifies the black-eyed woman standing at the counter. After a quick conversation, and browsing some of the baked goods, it finally clicked that you had walked straight into cannibal town without realizing. But.. It was surprisingly nice. The woman said she did need help in the kitchen, and while the image of cleaning blood and bones off baking pans made you shiver, it could've been worse.
With some hard work and absolute dumb luck, you managed to become a customer favorite. There were some close calls, gentlemen would always get a whiff of your scent before kissing your hand as a greeting, and sometimes you would even feel their teeth graze across your knuckles. The owner was such a lovely woman, despite also being a cannibal, she would swat at any unwanted advances and scold anyone who dared to taste her “best worker”. After a couple months, you were able to pretty up your inherited apartment, and it finally felt like somewhere you could call home.
And a few months after that, you would actually consider yourself in a good place. Bringing some homey decor into your new place, you had the urge to bring a few friends by. The only issue was, you didn't have friends. You were close to the owner, but she was.. Old fashioned. And customers were just that; customers. You were getting antsy though. You rummaged through the small duffle you took with you from the Morningstar residence and found a mildly appealing outfit. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you let out a dissatisfied hum. With one fell swoop, you took the bottom of your skirt and tore it fully around your legs. The dress that normally flowed sweetly to your calves, now flounced to your thighs. With one more spin, where you saw a little too much under your skirt, you decided that this would definitely get you some friends.
Oh, and how right you were. You made many “friends”. You played every card in the book, using dozens of excuses to bring home any demon who showed interest. You were careful about it, you could handle yourself, after all. You were finally getting the attention you deserved. But.. it wasn't from him. Each time you’d walk to work you’d see a flier or a billboard with the king of Hell’s grinning face on it. It churned your stomach each time. 
At this point, after some soul-searching, you decided on one thing. This was all Lucifer’s fault. How dare he smile at you the way he did. How could he constantly keep you company, making you wonder why you were even hired as a nanny? How could he so easily touch you without getting as nervous as you did? How could he kiss you the way he did, then call it a mistake? He did nothing to defend you. But these demons in your bed each night? They would do anything for just a taste of you and had no problem admitting that.
After finally appeasing your physical needs, you stopped pursuing demons. It’s been a few years since you've settled in, and now you look back at some of your hookups with a cringe. That was progress, right? Admitting it was just a phase? 
Your traveling hands told you otherwise. At night, especially after a long shift where your mind was too tired to think straight, your hands would trail down the center of your stomach. You could never explain what got you in this state, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you had to know. Taking no time, with your exhaustion quick to take over, you rubbed small circles across your still-clothed cunt. You held your blanket to your mouth to muffle any noises. You picked up the speed.
“Nng.. L-Lucifer..”  You moaned out softly, your blanket slipping out of your clenched fist. A swell of pleasure caused you to arch your back into your hand, still playing with your overstimulated cunt. After letting yourself calm down, you simply sit with tired eyes, looking at the ceiling with a visible glare. Well, shit.
“U-Uh.. Lillith, my love, don’t you think we should -” A quick glare back at the nervous king caused him to shut his mouth.
“Get yourself cleaned up, darling. Then, we’ll figure everything out.” She sounded far too calm for his liking, but once he turned to a mirror in a nearby vanity, he choked on any response he might have. He was covered in your lipstick. Fuck, he loved being covered in your lipstick. Quickly shaking the thought out of his head, he went off to clean up his face. Splashing water onto his face and neck, he let out a heavy sigh, refusing to look into his reflection. Even he’s ashamed to look into his eyes after what he’s done.
After folding his coat and draping it over a nearby chair, he carefully approached Lillith, who had sat down gracefully at the edge of their shared bed. She was holding up some papers with a purple haze, and with a flick of her wrist, she dropped certain ones into a nearby portal. Lucifer gathered the courage to sit next to his wife. He still kept a good distance, twisting his ring around his finger as a nervous fidget.
“What do you think of this one, dear?” Leaning in close to him, Lillith presents a piece of paper that she had just been looking at. A sudden chill ran down his spine, scanning the sheet. A picture of a homely demon, looking absolutely ancient, was clipped to piles of papers with references, experiences, and skills. Overall, if this were a normal situation, she would be a perfect fit to take care of Charlie. But so soon? He didn't want to bring that up. Hey! Can’t you keep the demon, who you just caught me sucking on, for a little while longer? That’s ridiculous.
“W-Well, sure, I’m sure Charlie would love her.. Great choice.. Love.” He was always quick to tell her or give her whatever would make her happy. He owed her that after all. After dragging her to the pits of Hell that he created.
“Hm! Well, that’s settled. I suggest you head to the other room for the night, you must understand how I’m feeling after what I saw.” She sounds absolutely heartless. Not in a way that comes off as cruel, just in the way she barely seems affected by something that weighs on his mind so heavily. Either way, he nodded and left their bedroom. 
No servants came to help him get ready for bed, as they usually do. Which isn't an issue, he wasn't completely incompetent. But it did leave him alone for the first time in centuries. Really, when was the last time he had been alone in a room for longer than a few minutes? He tried to not get caught up in the thought, shifting under the covers of the bed. It felt new. It felt unused.
Maybe it was the discomfort of sleeping in a bed that hadn't been touched for who knows how long, but Lucifer spent most of the night tossing and turning. How could he sleep with his mind so full of regret? But then, what was he regretting exactly? Was it the cheating on the one woman who's been by him through everything? Or was he regretting not saying something to you sooner? Not shutting the door when he had the chance? Regretting letting you go without a fight?
At some point in the night, he shot up, a sweating mess. He was still exhausted, even with the notion that he had just woken up from some night terror. Finally catching his breath, he slumps back down, shifting into some other sleeping position. With that one motion, he felt the stiffening problem in his shorts. Fuck. It wasn't there the whole night, but he knew exactly why it was here now. He laid on his back, spreading his knees a bit to gain better access to his aching groin. With the same goal of getting it over with, so he could go back to sleep, he palmed at his shorts before releasing his throbbing cock. Even if he convinced himself that this was just to help him get back to sleep, he couldn't prevent picturing you as he started to toy with himself
If you could see him in this state, you'd go mad. The image of him letting out soft whimpers to no one and pumping his own shaft, wishing his hand was your own.
With a speedy resolve, Lucifer pulls away his hand. Already disgusted with himself for essentially sending you to the streets to fend for yourself, he cleaned himself up before continuing to lay in the unfamiliar bed. The rest of the night was spent staring at the ceiling. It was all so.. Empty. He was so used to hearing the soft breathing of someone sleeping beside him, the comfort of being able to just turn his head and know he wasn't alone. He didn’t exactly miss the smell, but he could recognize the difference. The fragrance of whatever Lillith would use on her hair or skin, right before she would sleep, was gone. There was still a lingering scent, though. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. A sudden flash of your flushed appearance, ringing with an anticipation he hadn't seen in years, formed in his mind. He could have covered you in love bites and bruises right that instant - Oh. That must be it; He was smelling you. His senses were overwhelmed. By you.
“Sire! Breakfast!” A hasty knock at the bedroom door sent him sitting up quickly. He was still groggy since it didn't feel like he fell asleep at all. A random servant let themselves in, a tray of assorted breakfast pickings sitting heavily in their hands as they glided quickly to place it over his lap. He didn't normally have breakfast in bed. A surprise usually viewed as a treat, felt morbid to him. He usually had breakfast with..
With a heavy sigh, he dismisses the imp and pushes the tray off his lap. Who could have an appetite after everything that went on the night before?
As the days started to pass, Lillith eventually started acting like nothing had changed. Your replacement was quick to start working. Lucifer got along with her fine and Charlie seemed to like her plenty. Could this really be swept under the rug? Was a little kiss not worth a serious discussion after all these years? Apparently so. Neither of the royals brought it up to each other after that. They were actually fighting less than before - that is - Lucifer didn't feel it fair to try and rebuttal any of her arguments. And.. that’s the end of it. Just a fling that occurred on a restless night. Just a sinner making another sinful mistake, and the king of Hell creating more problems. There wasn't any more to it.
Extermination Day was fast approaching. This wasn't your first, but it was definitely jarring compared to how you handled it at the Morningstar Manor. You boarded up your windows, tore apart curtains, and generally made your hand-me-down apartment seem abandoned. No point in looking for sinners in an empty building, right? You were surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances, you brought a damned book to read while hiding in the safest area of your home. You didn't think much of it, Not until the screams began.
The battle cries became increasingly louder. The exorcists were quick to get to work, spreading their attacks through the most heavily populated areas first. The shouting and sobbing of other demons suddenly registered in your mind. You're terrified. It's easy for sinners to take their position for granted during their first year. You died on Earth, but here you are in Hell. You die in Hell, you regenerate, so you can continue your eternal punishment. But this extermination? It finally clicked in your mind that this could be it. This could be your end and you have no idea what would happen to you afterwards. Was there anything beyond Hell? Your spiraling thoughts were brought to a halt when some of the expertly nailed boards on your windows went flying across the room. You were safely tucked away in a closet, it wasn't closed, just ajar. You hoped that little detail would keep it clear that no demon would be stupid enough to hide in an open closet. You heard rustling, some things breaking, then breathing. She was so close to the closet, that you could hear her breathing. As she reached for the doorknob and you prepared for the worst, you could hear a command coming from outside. The exorcist left through your window in one fell swoop. You had no idea if that was the end of the extermination or if you had only managed to avoid one angel.
Gripping your knees to your chest, only prolonging your struggling breathing, you hoped for one thing. Your mind went spinning, as it does on occasion; After rough days or when certain guests weren't treating you very well, you would wish for help. In your fantasies, a knight in shining armor would come in, kick down the door, and save the day. He would whisk you off your feet and you'd have your happy ending. But today, extermination day, you wanted nothing more than for Lucifer to hold you. Not to save you, defend you from dangers, or play the hero, but to embrace you. Keep you close to his chest and tell you everything was going to be okay, and that you'll look back on this later and laugh. That you'll always be safe as long as you're with him.
Why did you have to ruin it? Things were so good before. You were safe, technically wealthy, and had a friend. A real friend who would help pick up your work if you ever felt the slightest overwhelmed, someone who would support and praise you, someone who would make you laugh. And you were too horned up to consider you could lose all of it.
A sharp pain running down your back forces you awake. Taking the time to recognize your surroundings, you recall crying yourself to sleep in the cramped safe haven you made for yourself. At least it worked. You're still here. Despite everything, you're still here. Taking your time, you stretched your stiff body and examined the damage to your home. It was in absolute shambles. The sight of the busted window made your blood run cold, just imagining an exorcist exploring your personal space. You took a mental note of everything you still had and carefully sat at the edge of your bed, your sheets littered with shards of window glass. This has to stop. You need some kind of respite again, you can't survive like this anymore.
You were embarrassed. It felt so strange going somewhere and admitting you need help, that was always a struggle for you. But to crawl to the establishment ran by Charlie? The toddler you raised? It would be near impossible to admit defeat to her. But you were shunned by the rest of the royal family, and quickly discovered you can't make it just living alone as a demon. There's only one other option. Heaven. You supposed it was time to give Redemption a shot. What else do you have to lose?
You hesitate to knock on the door once you're greeted with the signs hanging all over the front of the building. Homemade flyers and banners decorate the walls, saying things like Sinners Welcome!, Escape Redemption!, Ascend to the Heavens!, but the most important one was Free Housing! You knock so lightly on the door, that you have to do it again. It swung open -
You aren't exactly shocked by her appearance, she's been displayed on the news and you've seen her commercials a few times, but you still felt a stabbing pain in your chest. It was from a combination of nerves and.. was that pride? To see this little girl, you helped raise for a moment, as a grown woman who was pursuing her dreams?
She immediately bombarded you with questions and greetings. She still had that energy, didn't she?
"This is the lobby! And over here is the bar, if you drink, and here is -” You started to tune out her voice, still smiling and nodding when she looked at you. Taking in your surroundings, you would at least smile at the other demons you'd make eye contact with. You recognized Angel Dust, obviously a celebrity in Hell, but the rest were strangers to you. Emphasis on strange.
Finally appearing from the shadows, you did actually recognize the so-called radio demon. He would frequently come into your bakery with the overlord of Cannibal Town, Rosie. You'd serve them, which was not normally a service you'd provide, but your boss insisted. He seemed nice enough from those interactions, you saw no reason to fear him. Yet. He was kind enough to stop you and Charlie to chat.
"Ah, a familiar face!" He greeted you by taking up your hand and placing a light kiss on your knuckles, immediately sending shivers down your spine. "Pleasure to see you, again, dear." He spoke into your hand. "Quit the pleasure~" Your hand still held to his lips, he looked up to meet your eyes. With a nervous chuckle and a nod, you pull your hand away, almost pushing Charlie to move on. You didn't want him to see your flustered face.
"So.. How's your dad been?" You idiot. Why would you ask that? You didn't want to know the answer.
"Oh! Um.. That's a weird question - We don't talk much, he's doing important things you know, considering he's the king and all, but uh..good! Pretty sure he's.. good..." Her nervous reactions were just like her father's, but you didn't have time to dwell on that. You knew Lillith had disappeared, everyone did. You wondered what happened. You wondered what it would be like if you were still in the manor with them. If Lucifer would treat you differently with Lillith gone.. Stop. 
“Well, I used to work at the manor, actually.. erm.. Do you recognize me..? By any chance?" Charlie's face gleamed with excitement as she took your hands into hers. You were hopeful for a second.
"That is so cool! I haven't been home in ages.. so I'm not sure I remember you but - wow, we have so much to talk about!" She let out an excited squeal that left you smiling nervously. She didn't recognize you. That was fair, you only knew her when she was young, but you thought.. maybe...
Aging in Hell worked differently. While Charlie had truly grown, you've looked the same for multiple decades. You almost hoped that would trigger something in her mind.. thinking about it, you'd love to reconnect with her. But you can't. You can't look at her without seeing him. Maybe her not recognizing you is the best for now.
You settled into the hotel pretty quickly, and considering your housekeeping skills, the rest of the staff and residents seemed to warm up to you, asking for help with little things like mending or baking. You also helped Charlie with anything you could. She had a lot of questions about what her childhood home was like before she came along, and you had to do your best to dance around the important details.
As you were fixing up a skirt for Angel, one that was torn straight in half, your head was suddenly with radio static. A shadowy figure appeared in front of you. With Alastor looking down at you, he was much more intimidating. Doesn't stop the fact that he made you blush like crazy.
"Alastor. What's up?" You turned your head back down to continue your sewing, trying to keep a cool facade, then felt the seat next to you dip slightly.
"A little birdy told me you have an.. interesting past. Sounds like you have quite the history with the royal family, correct?" You hesitantly nod.
"I'd love to hear some stories if you have anything.. juicy." He definitely learned that word from Rosie. You chuckled at the sound of such a modern word warped with static. You gave him the same details you would tell Charlie, vague and definitely not juicy.
As you spoke and sewed at the same time, you ended up jabbing your finger with the needle. With a disappointed groan, you squeezed your finger, letting the blood drop grow. A quick reaction, Alastor lightly took a grasp of your wrist and brought your finger to his lips. With just a single swipe of his tongue, he wiped the blood clean. You tried your best to act disgusted, he was a cannibal after all, but your face was still heating up.
“O-Ookay.. thank you, I suppose..? Anyway..” You took a moment to shake any inappropriate thoughts from your head before returning to your stories. Alastor simply sat and nodded, occasionally letting out a little chortle at something you tried to joke about. "It was definitely a cushy job, I mean, you get free housing as a nanny, protection, food and - "
"A nanny, hmm?" Fuck. You quickly dropped what you were doing to face him. "Alastor, please don't say anything to Charlie. She doesn't even remember me since I had to leave when she was young, and I.. I want to keep it that way, okay? Keep this between us? Please?" You were begging. You had a great relationship with Charlie right now, there was no point bringing up the past. Or the mistakes you've made. You didn't see his smile grow, but it definitely did.
"Not a problem, my dear! I'm not one to blab.. since you asked so nicely." He looked at his clawed fingers as if they were neatly painted nails. You let out a sigh of relief, shakily reaching for your little sewing project in your lap to proceed where you left off.
"Thanks. I owe you one." You had no idea what you did, but apparently, that was enough for him. Enough to signal a deal. You officially owed Alastor a favor, and you had no idea what that could entail.
“Okay, everyone! My dad agreed to come and see what I'm - what we - are doing here! This could really help the hotel, so we are going to pretty it up and make it as welcoming as we can!” Charlie stood on the previously used trust-fall stage as she spoke.
“We’ve got one hour, people! Let’s get going!” The command from Vaggie, only made you sweat more. You stood in the small crowd of recently made friends, suddenly shrinking where you stood. You had no idea what Lucifer had been up to these past years. He definitely wasn't making any public appearances and Charlie rarely talked about him, so you just assumed he wasn't interested in her little project. It was shocking to you at first, that the gentle father you used to know had barely even spoken to her in almost a decade.
But that's beside the point. He was coming to the hotel. Stepping off the stage as the crowd dispersed, Charlie came directly to you. She held onto both your hands, before shining a giddy smile your way.
“Isn’t it exciting? Maybe he’ll recognize you! It’ll be like a little reunion!”  You simply smiled and nodded, before quickly stepping away. Charlie started directing people, nicely, to start cleaning things up and creating banners and other decorations. A familiar static ran through your core as you hit the top of the stairs, ready to hide wherever you could.
You groaned, “Alastor, I just need to get out of here, please don’t bug me right now.” He was quick to block your path, placing a hand on his chest as if he were wounded.
“How cruel of you, I simply want to chat! I’m just wondering how you’re doing, dear.” His voice was sweet, but it still put you on edge. You waved him off and kept walking.
“Don’t give me that shit, I know you don't really care.” You rolled your eyes as he continued to walk with you, occasionally brushing his side against yours with his strides. Alastor was becoming close to you over these past few months, even getting a little touchy at times. You definitely didn't mind it. You considered making some kind of move, but the idea of that failing made you cringe.
“Goodness, how rude you are today! Aren’t you excited to see your old employer? Or.. are you nervous?” He knew what he was doing. You did your best to hide your anxious reaction, but he saw right through it.
“M-Maybe a little nervous. There, are you happy now? I don’t want to see him, I’m not ready - “ You muffled a frustrated groan into your hands, stopping in place
“Not a problem, my dear! Why don’t you stick with me today? I would hate to see you in such a state of despair - ” Liar. “ - just think about it.” You nod your head, but you were pretty sure you wouldn't be leaving your room for the rest of the day.
“Good girl.” With a quick pat on your head and a flicker of the lights, Alastor disappeared from sight. Your whole body shivered as you stepped into your room. 
— 
You recognized his voice immediately, even from your room. it didn't help that he was practically shouting. You were sitting in your bed, your back against the headboard and your knees pulled tightly to your chest. You would grab a book, or maybe the phone you finally managed to buy, but you didn't. You sat with tears flowing down your cheeks. You weren’t sad, exactly, but your body had no idea how to process your emotions right now.
Luckily, a loud crash snapped you out of your frozen state, forcing you to carefully leave your room. You couldn't hear his voice anymore, just a loud ruckus, people screaming and gunshots. You assumed someone had broken down the wall, again, probably looking for another fight. That probably means he left, right? Taking your time, you carefully peek your head around the stairwell, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.
No sign of Lucifer. Starting to descend the stairs, a giant portal opens mere feet away from you. Charlie and Lucifer return, his gigantic wings fluttering close as they embrace. You only realized the severity of the situation after appreciating his wings that you’ve never really seen this close before. They were beautiful - Focus.
As they discussed finally setting up Charlie’s meeting, she finally caught a glance of you just beginning to climb the stairs.
“Oh, Dad! I almost forgot! There was so much going on, I didn't get to show you our other guest!” She speedily approached you as she spoke, grabbing your hand and pulling you back down the stairs.
“She said she used to work at home! Isn't that cool?” Placing both her hands on your shoulders, you were essentially held captive.
“Oh! OH! Ahh.. hm! That is - That is definitely.. Interesting! Fun little fact there, isn't it?” His laughter became increasingly nervous and his cheeks became redder, as he tugged at the collar of his shirt to let the cool air of the room hit his suddenly heated skin.
“B-Been awhile, huh?? Long time no see! What are you up to? Today? These.. days..?” Charlie’s excitement only grew, shaking you a bit by your shoulders.
“You remember each other? That’s awesome! Maybe you two can catch up sometime! Were you close? She talks about how much she loved working there all the time!” Charlie’s words did little to fill the gaps. He had no idea why you were here, what you had told her - his eyes met yours finally, begging for the answer. What did you tell her?
Charlie’s one-sided conversation became a ringing in your ears, as she finally released you. You were only brought back by a hand placed delicately on the small of your back. In the back of your mind, you hoped it was Lucifer’s. That made you wince. Finally looking at its source you met Alastor’s eyes. He did say he would keep you company if you decided to come to the lobby. A sudden question popped into your head. Did Lucifer ever apologize? With Alastor's support, a surge of confidence gave you the strength to respond.
“We weren't that close, Charlie. I mean, we could catch up. If he wants to that is.” You leaned into Alastor's touch as you spoke, another decision you'll question later. In that moment, you wanted to treat him like shit. You wanted him to feel the way you did when you were sent away without a fight.
He seemed to shrink in place, his eye twitching when he let his gaze roam from your body up to Alastor’s, which was connected so sweetly by a gentle hold.
“Yeeaah! MAybe - “ His voice cracked, “ Welp! If you’re here - I know where to find you, I’ll uh.. Keep in touch..?” He did his best to send charlie a nervous smile, who was giving an enthusiastic thumbs up to him from behind you.
“Weren't you just leaving, Your Highness?” Alastor’s voice went crackly as he spoke, his hand snaking completely around your waist. He gave a nervous goodbye, before vanishing in a red smoke. Something strange happened just then. Before he left - he looked scared. But you still felt good doing what you did.
You blinked your eyes as if you had just been broken out of a trance. Looking around the silent room, you met Alastor’s eyes again, before quickly pulling yourself away from his grasp.
“I-I guess you did what you promised.. so.. Thank you?” letting out an awkward chuckle, you made your way back up the stairs. What came over you? Did you really want him to suffer? You had a chance to try and repair things, to ask why he did what he did. There's no way he'd try to reach out now. Right?
Hope y'all are liking the direction this is going, i know its getting a lil intense
I'm getting your requests btw! I'm loving the prompts I'm seeing, so I'll work on them as soon as I can! :)
!Taglist (A lot of you asked to be in the tag list, so if I missed you, please let me know!)
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee @0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman )
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puppetmaster13u · 26 days
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Have some Sebastian Design
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I enjoy character design far too much. And genuinely Sebastian's is so fun to think about. It's not perfectly symmetrical, and so much is covered up that it means you can take logical liberties. Especially with how he's gene spliced! And four arms, always fun to think about the actual anatomy of that.
Words & Implications:
Fourth arm didn't form fully past the shoulder
Extra fins on the sides & back are usually hidden by clothing
Smaller fins on the snake-tail are usually flat outside of the water
Four shoulderblades & pectoral muscles due to the four limbs (Yes this means the bones are a mess)
There are gills on both the neck & sides
All of his teeth are sharp, making him mainly carnivorous, & are layered like a shark's
Tongue is forked & long like a snake's; can be used to both taste & smell
Yes those are whiskers on his face, they sprout around the cheekbone area
The lower limb(s) are more webbed & less human looking (& yes he has sensory pads)
Claws can partially retract on the higher pair of hands but not fully
The anatomical right side of his face has no eyebrow thanks to the second eye
He keeps his hair slightly longer on that side
His skin is covered in a mixture of the sandpaper-esque scales that sharks have, and thicker rounder ones of a snakes- The shark scales are more around the face & hands, giving a skin-like appearance
Not Pictured but I might use:
Man has mantis shrimp DNA, might give him tiny skittering legs on his underside similar to shrimp If so, they can fold up beneath him to slither/slide if needed
Might add more esca, if so they'd be smaller and thinner than the main head lure, most likely hidden by the many bags on his tail
May add a few more fins on his back, though on the snake-tail. Most likely some sort of dorsal fin thanks to both the great white shark & blue whale DNA- though might do a longer fish-fin based off the silver spinyfin DNA
Also not pictured due to not being colored: He definitely has countershading- lighter underside & darker backside. That is part of practically every sea creature he's part of save for mantis-shrimp & whatever the redacted thing is, which we have no clue
Might give him mantis shrimp or krait-like patterns with his coloration, we'll see (He's mostly covered by clothes & bags anyway)
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strawberri-blonde · 1 year
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Secret Oasis - Neteyam
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Summary: You help Neteyam put on his loincloth. Pure fluff!
Warning: Allusions to sex, and talk of body parts, but no action participated other then kissing. Angst if you squint your eyes.
Masterlist
As you awaken, your senses are flooded with warmth, and a gentle hand caresses your hair. You try to open your eyes, but the sun's rays shining through the treetops are too much for them to handle. You shut them again, while extending your limbs to savor the feeling of the first stretch of the morning. Slowly, you open your eyes and take in the beauty of the early sun shining down on all of Eywa's creations. As you bask in the serenity of nature, you hear someone rummaging around. Your eyes drift away from the greenery to watch as Neteyam stands in the middle of the sandy area that exists deep in the Metkayina forest but close enough to be able to hear the waves of the ocean. He's wearing nothing but his matching necklace that he shares with you, and other than that, your mate is completely nude.
You let out a silly smirk as you heard the frustrated grunts and sharp whispers escaping his mouth. It looked like he was having trouble with his loincloth. After letting out a sleepy breath, you pushed yourself into a sitting position from the hammock and slipped out of the bed. Your blue feet touched the soft material of the palm leaf woven mat that you made for this secret oasis that kind of felt like the forest back home.
You barely noticed his harsh mumbles, as you were focusing on the area between his legs. Pride filled your body as you took in your mate. His tall frame was strong and muscular, and his skin was tanned from the sun. Neteyam had the body of a warrior. Yet as he fumbled with getting the material to cover him modestly, his movements were nimble and smooth.
“Need help?” His eyes widen and his ears flattened realizing that he’d woken you up.
“Yawne, I’m sorry.” You waved him off, walking up to him reaching out to gently touch his face and stroke his hair. “Didn’t mean to wake you, just was having trouble with this material. I mean it’s not even the width of your wrist. How is this supposed to cover anything.” This made you giggle at how frustrated he was getting.
Your eyes dropped down to his soft cock, and you smirked. Even when he wasn’t aroused, it was a good handful. “Well, no need to brag," you said, yawning. You grabbed the material from his hands. "Not everyone can be as blessed."
A blush washed over Neteyam's face as he watched you stretch the seaweed, making it expand more than twice its size. "Now I just feel dumb," he said.
It was your turn to flatten your pointy ears against your head. You pulled your attention away from the material to touch his chest, stroking up his neck to caress his jaw. “Neteyam, you’re the least dumb person I know," you said. His face flushed with a soft lavender hue, his cheeks, and ears a deep purple color. “It was just an easy thing to forget. Plus," you mumbled out, wrapping the material around his waist and pulling him into your body. "I like knowing that I can help you solve your problems, even if you think it's something trivial.”
Neteyam’s hands flew to the side of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Ma’Y/n. I truly appreciate your help." His response made you nip at his skin before pulling around to wrap the seaweed through his legs. “But no funny business." Your delicate hands cupped him through the material. “Y/n." He laughed out with a wide grin. “I’m serious. I’m meeting Ao'nung for a little extra training with my Tsurak. He’s not connecting with me like he should."
“I was just making sure it wasn’t too snug for my big man," you said. His ears turned a deeper shade of purple, and he glanced down at the ground as he tried to get a hold of his emotions. Neteyam blushed when you gave him a compliment; he couldn’t help it. You just seemed to have that effect on him. “But," you quickly changed the topic to bring up the seaweed to his hips, around towards his back. “Why do you think you’re having trouble with the bond?”
Feeling his heavy sigh against your chest, you pulled him up, and saw that familiar look in his eyes: homesickness. “I don’t know, Yawne. Back in the forest, bonding with an Ikran was easy."
Your head lifted up in pride as you spoke. “The youngest to do so." You wrapped the material around his tail, making the man stiffen in your grasp.
Neteyam let out a huff as you made your way back around towards his front, laying the seaweed nicely against his skin. “Exactly. So why is it so different here? I need to be able to be a strong warrior here. I need to be able to provide for you."
As you held the material in one hand, you cupped Neteyam's hand in your other. “Don’t sell yourself short, my love. You have no idea how much you provide for me. You’re the reason my planets even rotate,” you whispered. He pressed another kiss to your forehead as you kissed his chest. “Neteyam, you’re the only thing that makes sense to me in this world. I moved my life for you.” This had his amber eyes locked onto yours as you stared up at him through your lashes. His hands trailed down to your shoulders. “I wouldn’t do that for anyone,” you said, as he pulled you closer.
“I know, Yawne.”
"And remember what we promised each other," you said, looking up at him with a determined expression. You finished tying the material around his waist, and let your hands rest on his hips. You could feel his warmth radiating through the fabric, and it made you feel safe. "Once this is over-”
“We go back home,” Neteyam's gentle voice cut you off. “The forest is where I’d imagine teaching our kids everything I know, and I want to show them where I met the love of my life.” Warmth spread through your chest as you became overwhelmed with emotion. His words touched your heart, giving you a moment of bliss that will forever be imprinted in your soul.
“I want that too, Yawne. Trust me. I want that more than anything,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in close. You didn't want to be too sad about missing home because you knew in your heart that Neteyam would keep his promise to you. You both would return to the beautiful forest to start the next chapter of your lives: having kids. "Just think of all the stories you can tell our kids," you said with a smile.
Neteyam hummed against the crease of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His hand rested on the lower part of your back, holding you close. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin as you spoke. “Imagine telling our kids how their dad wasn't only a warrior of the Omatikaya people, but also traveled thousands of miles to a new land, only to become a strong Metkayina warrior. Those are the stories our kids will cherish." You nudged your head against his so he'd look at you. His amber eyes held so much warmth as he towered over you, keeping you in his arms. You felt safe and secure in his embrace. "Until then, we just have to try to be the best of what we can offer," you said, feeling content and happy. You knew that with Neteyam by your side, you could face anything.
One of Neteyam's hands left the curve of your back to tilt your head up as he leaned down, keeping his lips centimeters away from yours. “As long as I get to tell them that their dad married the most beautiful, smart, courageous woman to ever exist.” That last part had you rolling your eyes, making Neteyam let out an airy laugh before pressing his lips to yours in a simple kiss. “I'm just telling the truth s’all," he said, smiling at you.
You kissed his lips again, feeling the warmth of his mouth on yours. You pulled away from him to grab a green decorative cloth. “Here," you said, and quickly wrapped it around his waist so a longer piece would cover his groin better. Neteyam looked down at the cloth, then back up at you, a smile playing on his lips.
“Thanks, love," he said, his voice low and husky. You felt your cheeks flush as you looked away.
"Now go before Ao'nung thinks that you're bailing on him and gets in a mood," you said, trying to hide your embarrassment. Neteyam chuckled and leaned down to kiss you again, his lips soft and gentle. You felt your heart swell with love for him as he pulled away. Neteyam laughed, his eyes crinkling up in amusement.
He reached out and moved a piece of braided hair out of your way. “He’s always in a mood.” His fingers caressed the small shells that you had in your hair before pulling away from you to start his pace towards the village. “I’ll see you later, my love.” You watched him go, feeling a sense of longing in your heart. “But you're right, Yawne," Neteyam called back to you. "There are some upsides to being here. I enjoy the way the seashells look in your hair." You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You knew that there was beauty in your crazy life, and you were grateful for it. You turned and walked back towards your hammock to get a few more hours of sleep, feeling at peace with the world.
I have another Neteyam story coming up!
~ Caroline
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satancopilotsmytardis · 3 months
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Hunter's Favorite
Pairing: Shigadabi
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Commissioned by @zehei, Tomura has been an intergalactic poacher for a good long while now, and when a potential job comes through that's for a big payout only four hours from where he currently is, he decides to look into it. But red flags start to blanket the wintery forest as he realizes the barely classified creature that he's been sent after seems far too sapient to actually be an animal. For his part, Dabi is just desperately trying to find what he needs to ensure his next heat doesn't kill him.
Contents: Sci-fi bullshit, Alien!Dabi, Hermaphrodite!Dabi*, descriptions of violence and (brief) vomiting, non-human anatomy, mating cycles/heats, size difference, size kink, scent kink, cum inflation (brief), belly bulge, eggpreg, egg laying, infertility, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, courtship rituals, mating bonds.
*Author's note: I am using "Hermaphrodite" rather than intersex because Dabi is not human and his species is able to produce both male and female gametes throughout their entire lifecycles unless they use medicines to stop that process.
Word Count: 22,357
Days camping in the wilderness have never exactly been Tomura's idea of a good time, let alone the wilderness on foreign, barely settled planets looking for a creature that could very well already be captured or dead. But that is what he finds himself doing as he lands his ship and starts to make his way outside. Ipra 309T is a small earth-like planet, which is a stroke of luck for him because the last one he was on had dangerous amounts of sulfuric gas making up the atmosphere, and the one before that had dangerously high spikes of radiation. Ipra 309T is a hospitable planet that in all likelihood will see a settlement brought to its surface within the next few years once the current groups of scientists finish surveying the land. 
He makes sure that he has all of the gear he needs for his stay, however long that will end up being, and leaves his ship. The cloaking device only works when it's stationary, but after the past half an hour of scanning the area, it's taken in the environment and is able to mimic it effectively, turning all but invisible to the naked eye, certainly invisible to most animals that may come across it while he's gone. Camping. In a snow covered forest. Great. Tomura is already bundled as tight as he can be and he is already wishing that he hadn't taken on this job as he starts to walk away from his far more comfortable vessel. If he were a lazy poacher he would just send out drones to look for the creature and stay in his ship, but the effectiveness of that kind of behavior is always far below what he feels like he's able to achieve by using more traditional methods. And if he wants to bag this little beast then he is going to have to be as effective as possible. 
Tomura starts to hike towards the place where the animal-- if it is an animal at all-- was spotted last. Ipra 309T hasn't been fully surveyed yet, and the first reports that scientists had given were that there weren't any sapient species on the planet. Which would mean settlers would be welcome to come and stake their claim on the land as long as they did so within interplanetary immigration guidelines. And then someone came across a pack of eight small bipedal creatures. The early reports said that the creatures had white skin and hair with long pointed ears with tufts of fur sticking off the ends and thin tails with prominent tufts at the tip as well. Their sharp claws on the hands and feet, and the mouth full of jagged fangs were very effective against the skin of humans and Varquix, because the two scientists who had come across the pack had immediately been set upon with such viciousness the human had all but dragged their companion away while he held his intestines inside after being gutted. Not a particularly good first encounter, but not that unusual. The problem is that no one has been able to get close enough to the intensely violent and territorial creatures to actually determine if they're people or animals. The other problem is that someone from Proximacard, the company that sent the scientists here to study the planet, had also gotten away with an egg from these creatures, clearly classified as BMN-019, which had been broken at some point. The embryo had, of course, not been viable, but regardless of whatever could be discovered from that, the shell itself had been exquisite. The palest blue in color on the outside with irregular rippling patterns across the surface that flashed like mother of pearl and and inside that, as it oxidized, started to glow, making the ripples along the surface cast faint patterns of the shining rainbow that had been compared to the northern lights on Earth. And the shell had 'gone missing' only for new jewelry that was worth a fortune to crop up among the most elite in two star systems, only a few pieces, but enough to have made the theft more than worth it for the person who orchestrated it. 
And that person had reached out to see if he could find someone to get more of the eggs, if not the creature themselves, hoping they could induce the laying in a sterile environment. It was a job that no one was particularly eager to take up after the early reports on the viciousness of the creatures, but some leak in Proximacard's system made mention of one of the BMN-019s that was seen roaming alone, smaller than the others and with patches of dark blue fur and skin across its body. It was unclear if it was a juvenile or if it was exiled, but it would be worth finding out. He hadn't known if he would want to bother with this job either, given the cold, but the reward for bringing it in was enough to make him go to this planet to potentially freeze to death, especially since he was only four hours away from the location when the message came through. That would all but guarantee that he would be the first one here to try and capture the creature and he was hoping that would better his chances. 
He hikes for the better part of two hours to get to the area where the creature was spotted, the forest not unlike that of a pine forest on Earth, though these trees drop seed leaves year round, the pods pale and mingling with the snow. That only means that he has a better idea of how to survive the natural environment as he finds a place that has a good vantage point and starts to go about setting up his campgrounds. The goal, aside from not freezing to death, is to be as unobtrusive as possible and be able to get the creature to come close enough for him to subdue it and get a translation collar around its throat. If the creature can talk with it on, then he'll know its a person, not an animal, and that means he can warn it that slavers will be after it and that it should probably go with its pack to the surveying crew and try to be registered as a sapient creature and the dominant species on the planet to protect them from being hunted and sold. It's not much of a boundary given the other animals he's captured and sold throughout the years, but it is better than nothing. At least he doesn't trade in people. 
Tomura sets up his camp and scatters some sensors in a mile radius around his tent, cloaked just like his ship, so that he'll know if anything enters the area. And then he returns to sit and wait. Even with the best winter gear that he can buy, he is still loathing that he bothered to look into this job and subject himself to this awful cold. 
///
Dabi wakes just before dusk and stretches his tail flicking and his ears twitching as he listens to make sure nothing is out of place around his den. There shouldn't be any, not when he's made his home so far away from the village and anything else that might want to make a meal out of him now that he's alone, and he's pleased to not hear anything that might indicate an animal has found its way to his den. He stretches and looks down at the thin bedding that he's been able to gather so far and knows that it won't be nearly enough when his cycle hits in a few weeks time, not only that, but there is a hollow aching in his stomach from not eating the day before. Ten months since his exile and he still can hardly feed himself. If he doesn't manage to make his hunting and gathering pay off soon, he doesn't think he'll survive his next heat.
He slips out of the sparse scattering of leaves that have been serving as his nest and makes his way out of the cave he's been calling home, using his claws to grip onto the sheet of ice that reformed overnight. This section of the mountain doesn't have much in the form of readily available resources, but it is just outside of the place the hunters tend to venture, allowing him to sneak along the border taking whatever he can, as well as ensuring that he is far enough away to not be noticed. Maybe someday he'll have the energy to move further east where food is supposed to be more plentiful, but for now, this is all he can manage.
Dabi moves down the side of the mountain, swapping hopping from boulders and snow mounds, up into the trees and moving through those instead. His coloration makes this marginally safer than just darting over the ground, but the white patches of his skin and fur are certainly not the perfect camouflage. Still, he can't change that, and he has to hunt.
He doesn't like to fish the river. Zerads, reptilian semi-aquatic animals with powerful tails, taloned front legs, and sharp teeth, tend to swim in small packs through it, and being alone means that he's an easier target for them to pick off, especially since his shorter reach means that he can't scare them off with his claws when he needs to. But the fish are the most readily available source of food that he can get as it is, and he needs to eat something today and every day as he works his way towards his cycle. If he doesn't-- Dabi shudders to think of the horror stories he was told killed their layers during times of famine. Eggs not forming correctly, eggs shattering inside of the layer's bodies and piercing them with the sharp fragments of shells leaving them to die slow, agonizing deaths. He has managed to avoid those things so far, but he needs to make certain that he's getting the food he needs if he wants to keep avoiding that. If that means risking fishing the river and forcing himself to eat the fish, then he doesn't really have a choice but to try it.
Dabi is about to climb down from the trees to start his fishing, when he spots tracks in the snow. He frowns and slinks down a bit further to try and get a better look. His fur bristles. The rounded toe and strange regular, intricate patterns that are pressed into the ground are not the same as the other kinds of these prints they started finding around the village a year ago, not the shape of any creature's natural foot and that makes him bristle. His ears twitch, listening all the more carefully to hear anything moving around him, but only the light breeze through the trees and birdsong in the distance. He was already being cast away when the tall creatures came into their neighbor's territory and stole the eggs from their brood layer. But from what he heard along the edges of things were that they had strange flesh, and that they left tracks in the snow with no toes. Great. Just what he needs, another potential predator to deal with. Dabi hisses at the footprints as if that will make the frustration disappear, before he continues along the bank of the stream. He doesn't see any signs of Zerads for the moment and perches on the edge to watch and wait. 
It takes the better part of the night, but he manages to spear three large fish on his talons and that take is a relief. He carries them back to his den and tucks himself into the sparse nest. The fish taste foul, he has never liked fish at all, and their bones aren't going to offer as much nutrients as he is likely to need when it comes to being able to form a healthy eggshell, but he needs anything he can get and he forces himself to take large bites and only chew enough not to choke, swallowing the mess down as quickly as he can. The egg he managed to lay last cycle casts the images of his pack along the walls, but it doesn't really make him feel any less lonely as he sits in the thin layer of needles that is nothing like the nest that they used to make for his mother or Shoto. 
///
The next evening he wakes again, not ravenous thanks to his meal the night before, but with the knowledge that he has to go on a proper hunt today. He needs to eat real meat, he needs real bones, and he is so small. He slips from his den and goes through the trees again, this time moving away from the river to try and find something he can pounce on from up high. His people can climb, but they usually choose to hunt on foot, fanning out in a semi-circle and closing in on a target when one has been located. Dabi can't hunt like that, not only because he's alone, but because his strange coloration means that he isn't nearly invisible in the snow. He blends in better up in snowy branches and he only has a chance at catching something if he takes his prey by surprise. So he learned how to climb the trees better than any other Salkeh and now he can dart through the branches looking for his prey. 
He has to travel far from his den to find what he's looking for and it is a miserable realization when he finds a small herd of Vaak curled up and sleeping. There are three babies being guarded by their mother, the animal quadrupedal with thick gray-brown fur, large sharp antlers, sharp beak, and sensitive large ears. He knows if he moves any closer, if he tries to pounce with her around, she will wake and attempt to gore him. He doesn't know if he's fast enough to kill one of the babies and drag its body back up into the trees to feast on, especially not since the babies are nearly the same size as him and he really has no hope of carrying that corpse above ground all the way back home. 
Which means he has to stay until the mother leaves in the morning to go find food for her young. His instincts rebel at the thought of not being in his den for the entire day. But this could be a proper feast for him and the bones will help his egg form so much better. He fights his instincts, resigns himself, and stays where he is, curling up to sleep until the sun rises. Hopefully the mother will leave then and he'll be able to kill the babies before she can return. 
///
Tomura camps for two days, learning through his sensors that this quiet forest is teeming with life. There are a variety of small creatures that live in the trees, many more that roam the forest, but so far none of them have been the BMN-019 that he is looking for. He, thankfully, determines this from his tent where he is doing his best to try and convince himself he doesn't hate the cold more than he hates, well, anything else in the entire universe, but still. It's not until the third day that the sensor by the river goes off and as he checks the scan that it made of the creature's body, he finally gets the jolt of electricity that goes through him when he's found his target. The image the sensor is able to project is only of the creature's silhouette but it matches what he was told to expect for the most part, though seeing the creature in three dimensions shows him just how small it really is. It barely would reach his waist if he were standing beside it. He supposes that would put him right at disemboweling height the way the first scouts were. Still, that is good information to have.
The sensor indicates that the creature stays for a few hours, but it is pitch black outside. He is not about to go trekking through the snow in a dark forest, alone, on a foreign planet. That is a recipe for getting himself killed and losing his target forever. If the creature goes to the river to eat, then he can hike closer tomorrow when the sun is high and prepare to keep an eye on the area closely enough to actually act if it comes there again. It is another miserable night to sleep in the cold, but he will certainly need the rest for tomorrow, so Tomura forces himself to settle. 
In the morning, he gathers what he needs and then hikes out to where the sensor indicated. He stays down wind of the tracks and near the tree line, trying to ensure that the creature won't spot him as he waits and watches to see if the being will show itself. The day passes without the target showing its face, but as the sky grows dark and he feels the stirrings of his exhaustion starting to pull at his senses, Tomura gets his first glimpse of the creature. Through the night vision goggles, he can't tell the exact coloration of the creature, but it does have darker patches across its body that he was told to expect and it is very small as he watches it climb up into the trees instead of going to fish the river again. He tries to move through the forest beneath it at a safe distance. It is even harder to do when trying to keep from being smelled or spotted, but if the creature leaves the canopy, then he can use his tranquilizer gun to knock it out and restrain it. When it wakes he'll try speaking to it and determining if it's a person or an animal.
The creature moves through the trees gracefully, its long claws catching the bark as it jumps from tree to tree, its tail streaking behind him and lilting this way and that to help him keep his balance as it moves. Tomura watches closely and carefully, taking note of how it moves and how quickly a casual pace is for the nimble creature. He has no doubt that it will be much faster than him if it wanted to run. It searches the forest, hunting, Tomura thinks, as he recognizes the randomness of how it scans the environment. 
It finds what it's looking for after a few hours, and Tomura lingers a good way outside of the creature's range of hearing as he sees it settle into a tree above another small group of creatures. He tries to look up the designation of those, but Proximacard's public records for potential settlers are abysmal, and he can't get into the classified ones without his ship's computer. But the animals on the forest floor are sleeping in a tight bundle and his target watches them, pacing along a branch for a moment or two before he decides to settle into the bows of the tree, seemingly to sleep. Tomura can't allow himself that luxury, and he settles to watch the creature through the frigid night.
///
It takes until two hours after sunrise for the mother to leave her babies, and even then, Dabi waits another hour, his stomach hollow and gnawing again, before he thinks it will be safe for him to drop onto the nest. He can't eat all three of the Vaak in one sitting, but he will try to kill as many of them as possible. If he does then he can butcher them for the richest parts of their bodies, gorge himself on what he can eat, and then drag back whatever he can't. He moves along the branch until he is just above their nest bracing himself for the fall. The babies sleep soundly in the snow. 
He drops down, his weight, even so slight, from that distance is enough to crack the spine of the one he lands on top of which begins to scream its agony. But it doesn't manage to move, so Dabi ignores that and instead goes for the other two that are starting to thrash and try to gouge his flesh with their beaks. But his soft fur is much tougher than it looks and the attacks slash, but cannot pierce without them putting the force of a true bite behind it. He twists to find the throat of the second baby and sinks his teeth into the flesh, tearing out the throat and pulling away to find the third before it can even gurgle its last breath drowned in blood. He knows it will die, and he needs to ensure he takes the third as well. That one he throws his body on top of as it tries to flee the nest, stabbing his claws through its ribs and rending its insides into shreds. It collapses beneath him and the one that was screaming its pain only screams for a moment longer before he returns to it and snaps its neck completely. Dabi licks at the blood on his mouth, satisfaction humming through him, as he sees the feast he has made for himself. He listens carefully to ensure the mother isn't rushing back to her nest, and when he doesn't hear any movement but the breeze through the trees, he separates the bodies from each other so that he has room to work. 
If he were home, if he had a pack to keep him safe, he would be much more meticulous in skinning his kills. but right now he just wants to be certain that he eats his fill and has the best parts to bring home with him. He uses his claws to carve the muscular back legs off, the thick bones inside will be full of marrow and will make the consuming of those more pleasant. He opens the chest cavities to find the liver and takes the bulk of fat and meat from the abdominal section as well, getting many pounds of it that he knows will be very hard for him to take back home with him, so he eats that first. Dabi barely chews, knowing that will make it take longer to fill his stomach, and the meat is so slick with blood anyway that it goes down his throat easily enough. The more he can get inside before his body feels full, the less that he will have to waste or carry back with him. 
He is about halfway through the first body before there is a distant click and then a sudden, sharp thud against his thigh. Dabi yelps, startled, whipping around with his teeth bared to try and find whatever hit him. But there isn't anything that he can see. Still. He doesn't like that and quickly checks to ensure that his fur beneath his skin is unharmed before he pulls back and gulps down two more large fistfuls of meat before he grabs a section of one of the baby's intestines. He squeezes out as much filth from them as possible, and then he uses those to lash the legs together so that he will have an easier time of carrying them. He still doesn't hear anything, so he climbs back up into the tree with his spoils, and starts to make his way back home, hoping to get there before the fullness sets in and he's able to sleep for the rest of the day, knowing he won't be hungry for the next several. 
///
Tomura sits back in shock as he watches the tranq dart hit the creature's back flank and bounce off into the snow. He ducks lower in his cover as the creature, small and definitely his target with its patches of dark and light fur, whips around to see what hit it, but the dart is lost in the thick red-stained snow. When the target doesn't find an obvious source of the pain, it goes back to its food. From just watching the creature, Tomura can't determine if it is more or less animal than he was expecting. He only knows that it is particular about the sections that it eats. It's not until a few minutes later as he watches it use the innards of one of its kills to tie the limbs it selected to take with it in a bundle, that Tomura starts to lean towards this being a sapient species, and not an animal. Using tools is not always a clear indicator of a species having human-level or greater intelligence, but it certainly lends itself to that interpretation. The target goes back up into the trees and despite his exhaustion, Tomura follows after it again. He wants to know if this creature has a den, or a pack, or anything that could help him understand it better. 
They trek back through the forest, back to the river, and then he watches from the denser forest as the creature scales the side of the mountain, moving through snow and rock until it slips away into a little crevice in the stones and Tomura loses sight of it. Well, that is something, he supposes. He knows now, at least generally, where the creature is making its home. He goes back to his campsite so that he can sleep after such a long day and dreads his next steps. He may not be certain, but he is more suspicious of this creature being part of a people, not an animal , and that means that he not only won't get the payout for this job, but he will have to decide if he's going to risk trying to make contact with it, if only to tell the creature what danger it and its species are in if they don't get registered by someone as a sapient species. 
He would much rather go back to his tent to sleep, but instead he hikes all the way back to the carcasses that the creature left behind, the mother of them nowhere to be found. He goes to the bodies and carves out as much additional meat as he can, getting a few pounds of it that he knows will keep in the cold. Then he heads back to his campsite and packs that up as well before moving it much closer to the river and where the creature makes its den. It's only once he has all of that re-established that he makes himself sleep, already dreading the next few steps he has to deal with in this situation he's found himself in. 
///
Tomura ends up having to wait another day and a half before the creature comes out of its burrow again. It goes off into the trees and he slips out of his tent to leave some of the strips of meat near where it climbs down from the mountain. He also makes sure to leave a strip of cloth that has his scent on it. There's about a fifty-fifty chance that makes the creature start to associate him with food as a provider or as a potential target, but he would rather get the target to start smelling him a bit. Maybe it will make him less likely to tear out his entrails when he does end up having to approach the creature. 
After another hour or two, it comes back, hesitating in the canopy as it spots the meat. It watches and waits for forty-five minutes before it carefully moves down the tree and over to the pile, ears rotating as it listens for anything beyond the sound of the rushing water. But it investigates the meat, finds the cloth and gives it a sniff, and then takes that along with the large bundle of seed pods and pine needles back up to its lair. Tomura is starting to wonder what else he could leave there for it that might tempt it to stay longer, but after about five minutes, the creature comes back down the side of the mountain to retrieve the food. It snatches it up quickly and darts back up the side of the mountain and he's glad he has more of it. 
This routine continues for three more days. On the first he leaves another bit of the meat and another little piece of cloth for the creature before it leaves its burrow for the night, and when it comes down the side of the mountain it paces around for a long while before it takes a chunk of the meat to the river. It catches a fish with it and Tomura's stomach sinks as he realizes that it was testing it for poison, as it makes the fish eat the chunk and then keeps a hold of it in the water. It hangs on for half an hour before it seems to determine the fish is not going to die unless its claws sink in on accident, and it leaves the fish be before gathering the cloth and the food and going back up into its den. It doesn't come back out for the rest of the night. 
On the second he leaves what is left of the meat and a small sensor. He doesn't know if the creature will figure that out or not, but if it takes it into its burrow, then Tomura will be able to see if there is a whole pack waiting inside. He watches and the creature ignores the offerings tonight, instead going to the forest and gathering more plant matter before coming back and picking up the meat. It pauses as it finds the sensor, tapping at it, even biting on part of the edge and Tomura is mildly dismayed to see that corner shatter right off. The creature spits and sputters as it tastes the metal and plastic and lobs the whole thing into the river before it takes the meat and vegetation up to its den. 
The third day, though he loathes to do it, he gives up one of his thermal blankets. He has more than one, and he takes the one that he's been sleeping with and that has been saturated with his scent to where he has been leaving his offerings and then sits, just on the edge of the treeline, only hidden enough so that he doesn't think the other will spot him immediately when it comes down the slope. And he waits again. 
The creature comes down, investigating the blanket and not treating it as if it's food, thank god. Instead the creature starts to make small soft chirps and purrs as it picks up the fabric and bundles it to its chest. He can see the creature smelling it, its tail swaying softly over the snow as it closes its eyes and presses its face into the fabric. Tomura is struck with how cute the creature looks as it does so after seeing how vicious it was in its hunting before. He hesitates, but he shifts slightly, making himself a little more visible and the creature's head snaps up out of the fabric, its big, bright blue eyes scanning the area and locking onto him quickly. 
It bares its teeth and hisses, "Egg thief!" Short, sharp guttural sounds that Tomura can't understand before it drops the fabric like it's burned him before it darts back up the side of the mountain and disappears again. 
Well. He can't say that went exactly as planned. 
///
Dabi watches from the edge of his burrow as the egg thief waits about an hour before moving over to the bundle of soft, warm hide and begins to fold it. He doesn't know what animal it was made of, but it felt so good under his skin, smelled good and masculine the way the other little hide strips that had been left with the food from before did, and his stomach sinks. He had thought... he had thought, just for a moment, that he was being courted by someone. That some other exiled or lonely person had found him and was trying to give him food and materials to build his nest so he might be more inclined to let them join him when his heat comes. But instead the egg thief, one and a half of him tall and still would be towering at least two heads above even his father, with its thick blotchy skin and reflective insectoid eyes, had been trying to trick him. The thief makes the hide neat again and then goes back to the trees. Dabi watches him until he cannot see anymore, and even then, stays perched in the entryway for the rest of the night, ensuring that the thief does not come back. When the sun does finally rise he goes to his half-formed nest and starts to eat again. He got so much more food, both from his main kill and from the thief bringing everything he couldn't take as offering, but he will still need to go on another big hunt or another few smaller ones before his heat comes. He had been so excited about the hide, it would have easily filled out the rest of his nest, but now he will have to work twice as hard to get everything he needs so that he doesn't die during his heat. 
He eats and forces himself into a fitful sleep when the sun rises. Tonight, he decides, he will finish his nest, with or without that hide. 
///
When Dabi wakes again he pokes his head out of his burrow. The hide is where it was before and he scans the trees to try and find the thief for a few minutes before he darts back down and snatches it from the snow and brings it back up. He shakes the thing out, trying to find anything in it or on it that may be dangerous, but all that does is kick up the air around him and leave his burrow soaked in the scent of the thief. It's a shame that he smells so good, like crisp water and a musk that speaks of being a hunter that makes Dabi feel the first stirrings of arousal. He pushes that away and tucks the hide all around his nest, so big and soft that it fills it out perfectly and makes it much cozier. He wants nothing more than to get right back in, but if he wants to have his heat be perfect, to make it easy after the last one nearly killed him, he needs to do more. 
Dabi goes back out and spends the rest of the night gathering more and more of the seed pods to break, opening them letting piles and piles of white fluff come out that he can stuff under the hide to cushion him from the floor and keep him and his egg as warm as possible even as he will be sweating to cool off desperately. The one thing he will say for being on his own, is that no one seems to be hunting this narrow strip of territory, so finding places where piles and piles of them have gathered isn't very hard. 
He brings them back and growls when he sees the thief, a blotchy white and gray dot on the edge of the trees again, and it stays where it is, even lifting an arm to ensure that he has taken notice. 
"Leave!" Dabi snarls in the creature's direction, holding his pods tight, debating if he should attempt to kill the creature or if he should continue hiding in his burrow. He doesn't know if that thing can climb with its thick, nubbly fingers and feet with no toes or claws to grip the ice and stones, but the rumor had been they also travel in pairs. He doesn't know if he's seen one or two of the creatures, but the hide only smelled like one. 
"I don't mean any harm." The voice that comes out of the creature is even more unsettling because it doesn't have a mouth. It makes sounds that are too regular, that must be speech of some sort, but that Dabi cannot understand, and it does so without a mouth. He doesn't think that it’s an unfair reaction for that to frighten him enough to dart back up to his den as fast as he can possibly go. The thief doesn't chase after him, but he stays in the clearing for hours after Dabi has hidden himself away. 
///
The next day the thief is gone. Dabi combs the area, he smells around and finds the place where his scent goes strong enough that he thinks the other may have made its own den, but he doesn't venture too close, afraid of getting trapped on the ground. But the scent smells a little stale, and the day after that it is even fainter. Fine. Maybe he moved on. Dabi certainly has to if he wants to get the food he will need to push him into his heat that he can feel getting closer by the day. He tries to hunt, but he doesn't have the luck he did before, and before the night ends, he's back at the river, doing his best to snag a few disgusting fish to just ensure his stomach stays full.
When he wakes again, it's with him coming sharply out of sleep with panic roaring through his veins as the smell of burning fills his den. Oh stars, oh no, no, no. Dabi keens mournfully as he leaves his nest, his den, his eggs behind as he runs out of the cave, needing to get as far away from the forest fire as--
He bursts out into the sunlight, and there is smoke on the air, but the trees are not burning. Instead, down below, the egg thief has a small fire, contained in a circle of stones, and beside him is the carcass of a full-grown Vaak. The egg thief looks up at him as he bursts out into the sunlight and lifts its hand again. 
"Good morning." 
Dabi cannot understand the words any more than he can the sight laid out in front of him and he stares down at the egg thief. The creature has removed the outer layer of its face, and he distantly realizes that must have been a hide or something that he was wearing over his head. Because he does have a real face, eyes that remind Dabi of his own though they are smaller and the color of blood, his hair is long and white, but it has been tied back into a bundle at the back of his head, save for a few wavy sections that spill over his face. He has a nose and lips, but his ears are smaller and stuck to the sides of his head instead of the top, and they do not twitch or rotate the way that Dabi's can. He has markings, but they are smaller than Dabi's own, just some texture across his lips and around his eyes, and two short little stripes over the side of his mouth and one eye. 
The thief lowers his hand and pulls a stick out of the fire, then sets it to the side. Dabi watches as he moves over to the vaak's body and carves another section of meat from its corpse using a sharpened something that shines brighter than even Dabi's jet claws. He then pulls the chunk from the stick and the bloody piece and looks back up at him, offering both. He stares and after another second the creature speaks again, 
"I'm not going to hurt you. Come here and have some food." The words are foreign and confusing, but the tone he uses is low and soft, only just loud enough to carry to where he is perched, and he knows that tone from how his mother spoke to his younger siblings. Does he think that he is a child that he can steal away? 
Dabi hisses at him. "Go away!" 
The thief tosses the two pieces of meat up the side of the mountain, to on top of one of the boulders that make up the rocky face a few feet below him. "There's plenty for you to eat if you come down to see me." 
He's torn between hissing at the other again, possibly leaping from the stones and trying to get his claws and teeth into his throat and watch the blood gurgle there until he chokes on it, and... accepting the... courting presents. That must be what these are. Only a potential mate would bring things for his nest, would bring him food, would talk in that tone of voice? Did the thieves realize they couldn't steal away the eggs, so they decided that they would court a mate for them instead? Dabi hisses at him and stomps his way back into his burrow to go to sleep. 
Some thief. He curls up into a tight ball in his nest and tries to go back to sleep, his nose still filled with the scent of the strange creature. He clearly doesn't know that Dabi is alone because he's not worthy of having a mate in the first place. 
///
Tomura keeps the fire going and he slowly butchers the animal he caught the previous day into neat sections. He carves away the legs and breaks them down at the knee joint so that the thick flanks are separated from the thin ankles and hooves the way he had watched the target do with the babies. He takes out as much meat as he can and separates the liver as well. It's cold enough that the corpse will keep for days, and the smoke of the fire, rather than attracting any other creatures, seems to have very effectively scared them all off the way that his target had looked so frightened as it came barreling out of its den to the smell. 
Tomura has a miserable knot in his gut throughout the day. That creature made different sounds at him when he tried to coax it closer with the food. Not just hisses or growls, it had very clearly waited for him to finish speaking and then deliberately articulated, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared in a snarl. He can't pretend that this isn't a person anymore, but that just makes this all so much worse. Other people won't care, they'll do their very best to hide that fact for as long as possible, they might even try to figure out how to lobotomize the creatures when they get them into captivity so they'll just be egg producers for anyone who wants to indulge in the beautiful shells. He is a criminal on thirty planets for the animals he's hunted, but at least he knew those were animals. He hasn't ever done something so vile to a person, and the thought of leaving the strange, vicious, fluffy little creature to suffer whatever fate the next poacher inflicts on it is not something he can stomach either. 
It's a few hours after sundown when the creature reemerges from its den and it pokes its head out, sees him, and actually hisses this time, his ears pinned back and his tail whipping around behind him. Tomura wishes that he could just use the translator himself, but if this is a completely unregistered species, then it won't have the first clue how to translate his language for him, the model not nearly as advanced as others on the market because he hasn't ever needed a more sophisticated one. 
"I have more food." He offers calmly. The creature hasn't tried to attack him yet, and he moved into the center of the snowy field, far enough from the mountain and the trees so that he's certain it won't be able to pounce on him from above like he saw it do when it hunted before. 
"Go away! I'm not a mate!" The creature pairs the words with a big arm motion, trying to shoo him away. Tomura ignores that and gestures for him to come down, then picks up another piece of meat and offers that. The creature looks at him incredulously, stomps one of its feet and huffs before it moves parallel to him until it can jump from the edge of the stones into the nearest tree, then it disappears again. Tomura leaves the meat behind, puts on his goggles so he can see, and follows after it.
He doesn't bother to sneak this time, just staying a few yards behind and keeping one hand on the hilt of his knife just in case it lunges for him. But otherwise, when the creature carefully descends from the trees to start to gather even more of the seed pods, Tomura starts to do the same. Mirroring is something that many species do to show that they're not threatening, and he hopes that his mirroring will help to make the creature less frightened of him. The small creature spots him doing that and glares at him. 
He's much closer than he has been to his target before, and he can see human-like features in the set of its face. Its eyes are larger than a persons and its irises are such a bright blue that Tomura doesn't think he's ever seen that color occur naturally before. It has a small pointed nose and thin well-defined lips that cover the sharp teeth when it isn’t sneering at him, all of them sharp but its incisors are much larger on the tops and bottom of its jaw. The fine, tough fur that covers its body is littered with patches of dark blue under its bright eyes, across its cheeks and down the lower half of its jaw to his collarbone, along its arms, stomach, legs and chest, more dark patches than light and it sticks out fiercely among the snow. It has four fingers on each hand and three toes, long black talons curving off of each like a raptor, the back of its ankle even has a larger dew claw that he has seen the creature use to grip onto branches and stones. Its tail is long and thin, topped with a thicker tuft of longer fur, and its head has hair, not just fur, a shaggy mess of it that looks like it was hacked into the spiky shape around its head and spilling over its forehead and cheeks by the creature's claws. And it really is so small. Maybe four feet tall. Tomura is almost never the tallest human in a room, but he feels like a giant when he looks down at this creature. 
His target hisses at him again and makes a shooing motion and Tomura shakes his head and offers it more of the seed pods. It huffs, takes what it's gathered, and climbs back up into the tree instead. That's fine. For now, Tomura has the time to be patient. 
///
It takes another three days. Every evening when the creature emerges from its den, Tomura offers it bits of the frozen carcass, and he can see the creature's resolve starting to waver at the massive feast that is being offered to it. But it tries to tell him to leave anyway. He stays. He brings more of the seed pods too, he digs through his things until he finds another blanket, not a thermal one, just a thin, small scrap of fabric that he hasn't used in years, and he offers that as well. 
And it takes three days, but the creature finally huffs, paces around, and eventually descends. It still skirts around the edge of his little area and Tomura tries to seem calm and relaxed, very carefully gesturing for it to come closer as he offers some of the meat. The target stays back, darting in just close enough to grab one of the legs instead. It goes halfway up the mountain again as it starts to eat and Tomura lets it do so. He watches as it sets into the frozen flesh ravenously, crunching through the bone and swallowing the marrow and shards as easily as the meat. It manages to eat the entire thing, looking up at him constantly like it's waiting to be attacked, but Tomura just keeps trying to be calm and unthreatening. The creature eats the leg and then eyes the other butchered pile of meat. Tomura offers it again, 
"You can have as much as you want." 
The creature looks nervous and tired, but it comes a little closer again and takes the frozen liver. That was the only specific organ he noticed missing in the babies, and Tomura hoped that would be its favorite. It takes that and gobbles it up as well and Tomura waits. It slinks over to the river to drink, keeping one eye on him the entire time and Tomura watches quietly. There are another few minutes of time that pass, but the creature does eventually come a  little closer, keeping the fire between their bodies. 
He lifts a hand and presses it to his chest. "Tomura." 
The creature considers him for a long moment, then mirrors the motion, "Dabi." 
And Tomura is finally able to breathe a little easier as he offers the blanket too. 
///
He doesn't understand why the thief, Tomura, seems so bound and determined to court him, but after days of him sitting outside of his burrow and the feast he procured a constant offering promising Dabi that his heat will not be one of misery, he finally breaks and goes to actually get closer to the other creature. Tomura moves slowly and carefully, like he is trying very hard not to spook him, like he's a frightened animal, but he wonders if the size of him is what makes that a necessity. He's so large compared to others of his kind and he clearly is a skilled hunter to have taken a Vaak alone and without claws or sharp teeth. They sit together for a few hours and the thief periodically offers him more food. Dabi declines. He would love to gorge himself, but he can't let himself relax that much. 
About halfway through the night, Tomura very slowly reaches into a pouch on the side of the hide that he is wearing over his body and Dabi bristles, but he pulls out a strip of cloth that has a darker square of what looks like the same material as the hard puck that had been left with the second offering of the meat. It's not something that he recognizes and Tomura holds it between his strange hands. He lets Dabi examine the cloth from his side of the fire and then brings it up to his neck, miming adding it to what he is already wearing before pulling it away from his neck and pointing to him. 
For him. Something to wear. Dabi wonders if this is a courtship item from his culture, if the puck was too. He isn't certain that he should accept it when his eggs will never be fertile. If the creature wants to be his mate, then he should know that. Dabi shakes his head. He doesn't know how to tell the thief that he isn't worth the time and effort that he is putting into this courtship. He puts his hand low on his pelvis, where the pouch of his egg will form as he gets into his heat and he whines softly, shaking his head again. 
The thief frowns at him and puts the hide back into the pouch and then offers Dabi more food. It would be sweet if it weren't so sad. Dabi takes that offering and then leaves the fire, going back up to his den, but Tomura calls after him. He half turns to look and sees he's offering another hide, a bigger one like the one he's already added to his nest. Dabi's chest tightens so sharply. This creature is trying so hard to be a good mate. He carefully approaches, still worried that he might lunge for him. But Tomura offers him the hide, letting go of it when it's in Dabi's claws, and he pulls it to his chest. It doesn't smell as good as the other did, it's not as thick, but it's still too much to give someone like him. 
"You should leave." He tells the other, putting the hide back on the ground between them, and using his other hand to try and shoo him again. "I can't be your mate." 
Tomura very deliberately shakes his head. Dabi churrs, huffs, and goes back up to his den. 
But Tomura is still there and waiting for him the next morning. 
///
He offers the scrap of hide for the next day and a half, and no matter how often he rejects it, how frequently Dabi tries to tell him to leave, even resorting to throwing handfuls of snow at the other to try and chase him off, the thief doesn't waver. And the longer he lingers, the deeper that a warmth starts to bloom in his body, telling him again and again that he needs something, and that something should be a mate now that he has plenty of food and a warm, safe nest for his egg. It's those instincts he has been trying so hard to ignore that have him reaching for the hide. Tomura confuses him when he withdraws it, trying to get him to come closer. 
Dabi is still wary, but he moves so that he's within arm's reach of the other creature, his claws ready to go for his throat if he tries to harm him. Tomura mimes wrapping the hide strip around his own neck again and then gestures at Dabi. Oh. He hesitates, his ears pulling back and his tail flicking wildly, but he forces himself to tilt his head back and bare his throat. Tomura moves very slowly as he leans into his space and Dabi gets a stronger whiff of his scent, the warmth of his skin sending him purring softly even through his nervousness as he prepares himself to attack if this is a trick. The thief brings the hide around his neck, and the bit that was like the puck is heavier than the scratchy hide. He slots it into place and there's a soft whirring sound that comes from the thing that Dabi doesn't understand. Tomura leans back out of his space and smiles. 
"There, can you say something for me?" He can't understand the words, but the other mimics speech and Dabi frowns. 
"What is this?"
The whirring gets louder and then Dabi startles as there's a little shock against the side of his neck like when there is lightning in the air. 
"It's okay--" Tomura says in his language. Dabi's head whips back to him and he snarls. Tomura holds up his hands placatingly. "It's okay, it's not going to do that again. It just had to connect to you so that you will be able to understand me. You can understand me now, can't you?" He lowers one hand very slowly to one of his pouches and extracts a little... shell? Something hard and shiny black that opens. He takes a rigid larva out of it and raises it to one of his strange ears, slipping it inside. 
"I--I-- if you could speak all this time, why were you--" he gestures as if that can encapsulate all of the stranger's behaviors up to this point. 
"I can't speak your language." The other tells him, "And you can't speak mine. This earpiece," He points at the thing he stuck inside. "And that collar, connect us so we can understand each other now." He waits to see if Dabi has anything to say to that, but he is just stunned and quiet. He has never heard of such a thing. "My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I'm a human from the planet Earth." 
There's another long pause, but eventually he makes himself croak, "I don't have a pack name anymore." 
Tomura frowns slightly. "Is that different from 'Dabi'?" 
He barely manages to nod. "'Dabi' is my name in exile." His chest tightens, "I was expelled from my pack-- I'm broken, my coloration is wrong, I still lay even though my brother was chosen to be the nest barer--" he has to tell him these things, he has to get this... human to understand that he isn't worth all of this trouble, that he can't be a mate. "My eggs aren't--" 
"People, other species from places besides this one," Tomura cuts him off, his eyes intense, "Want to steal them from you. They think that your people are animals, and they want to steal you away so that you can lay the eggs for them to sell." 
His stomach lurches sharply. "...What?" 
Tomura takes a breath and starts to speak for a long time. 
///
It takes several hours, the sun rising on the clearing again, by the time Tomura has finished telling Dabi everything that he needs to. He doesn't have the training that planet surveyors do to tell a new native species that they are not alone in the universe, but he does what he can. Dabi listens to him, he only asks a few questions, and he can see the small creature grappling with everything he's been told. 
"...I can escort you to the Proximacard settlement where you can get your species registered as sapient and start negotiations with them--"
"They are the ones who told your people," he has never had a qualm about his profession before he hears how Dabi says that, "To steal our eggs." He whines low in his throat, "Would they even listen?" And there's a hopeless fear in his voice that scratches at that bare bit of conscious that has kept him here trying to figure out how to help Dabi and his people, Salkeh, instead of leaving when he realized that they weren't the animals he had thought he should expect. 
"I don't know." He admits and then, before he can use his better judgment and stop himself, he goes on, "I can also take you off planet to the nearest hub. I can bring you to a galactic outpost, and you can get registered directly with someone there who isn't associated with them. They'll work out what they can do to help make sure it is a lot harder for anyone to come here and try to hurt your people." 
Dabi looks so forlorn and helpless for a long moment. "How long would that take?" 
"The nearest planet," that he can go to and that doesn't have an outstanding warrant against him, "Is about a day and a half's flight. I don't know how long getting completely registered will take, but just going and telling them that your species is a people and not animals will make them send non-Proximacard people here to make certain that Proximacard isn't doing anything illegal-- like trying to take your eggs." 
"I... okay. They'll have to find someone else-- I'm an outcast. I can't speak for all Salkeh." 
"Now that I have a sample of your language, they will be able to reach out in your people's tongue. Hopefully that will be enough to keep anyone else from being disemboweled?" 
Dabi shrugs weakly, like he doesn't know and is too caught up in everything else that has already happened to make a decision now. 
"You can take some time if you need it," he offers reluctantly. He doesn't know what learning this kind of thing about the world would do to a species that is still in the hunter-gatherer stage of evolution. He's not even certain, as far as legality goes, if Proximacard would be allowed to set foot on this planet if they'd known about this. "But not too long. I'm not the only person who is interested in your species." 
"Okay." Dabi reaches for the collar. 
"You can leave that on, unless it's causing discomfort. I'll leave in my earpiece. If we are within ten yards of each other then we'll be able to talk." 
Dabi's hand drops away and he just nods, barely looking at him. 
"You can take as much of the meat as you want too." 
"...I'm not giving you my egg." 
"I don't want it. I just brought this because I was hoping that you would talk to me if I showed that I wasn't a threat." 
Dabi's ears pull back, not into sharp points, but almost flat down into his hair and his tail curls around one of his ankles. "...Right. Of course." He doesn't take anything else as he goes back up to his den. It's too far for him to hear the other's voice through the piece. 
///
The next time he sees Dabi is well through half of the night and he is going to have to tell the other man that he is diurnal, not nocturnal, because he is seriously starting to feel the lack of sleep he's been getting over since arriving here. Dabi slinks down the edge of the cliff and comes over to the carcass, picking up another leg before he drags it closer and starts to gnaw on it. 
Between bites he asks, "Do you not eat meat?" 
"I do, but I don't know what on your planet is safe for humans. We have people who determine that through different methods, but I don't have the equipment for that." He takes the water bottle from his belt, "If I didn't have this, I couldn't even safely drink the water on this planet. There are some planets where I can't even breathe because of the different environments. If you come with me, when we dock, I'll have to call the outpost and they'll send someone to see you to determine if you can leave the ship safely, if not, they'll probably come with us back here to fully register you." The only reason he's bothering to take Dabi instead of just going himself to tell them is because he doesn't want the guy to get captured or killed by any other poachers that may arrive while he's gone. He can't even just try to put a call through to the proper authorities because it will be filtered through to Proximacard because they have settling rights on the planet and they'll just report back that the Salkeh are not conclusively a people. Bringing Dabi somewhere it won't be possible for that information to be buried should help actually keep his people from being rounded up and sold to slavers. 
Dabi rolls those things around in his head for a minute and crunches into the bone of the leg again. 
"Can I ask you something?" 
"What?" 
"Do all of your people lay eggs?" The translator has assigned his speech the masculine forms of words, which is how Tomura has been able to guess his gender now, but he has no visible sex organs or any recognizable secondary sex characteristics that he would have expected from another creature. 
"...We're not supposed to." Dabi mumbles, hunching in on himself and making his already small body even tinier. "Packs are made of a mated pair and then whatever clutch they are able to raise over the years. The mates pick one of their children to be the one to continue the line and they are allowed to keep laying throughout their life and look for a mate, the other children become the hunters and guardians for the layer. My youngest brother was picked to do that for my family, my sister, second brother, and I were supposed to be hunters, but I kept laying anyway. I tried to stop it, but it only delays it, and it makes me sick." Dabi hesitates, but he keeps eating, and when he swallows again he mumbles, "They sent me away. We can't sustain a pack that has two layers, and my coloration isn't... right. I'm too noticeable when we hunt." 
"I had a hard time spotting you at night going through the trees." It's not much of a compliment, but the little creature looks so forlorn that Tomura wants to try to offer something comforting. 
"We normally hunt by foot, during the day. I'm... compensating for my shortcomings." 
"If you're surviving fine on your own then your differences aren't shortcomings." He says a little more firmly. That, at least, he can be genuine about. "None of the rest of your pack have survived alone, have they?" 
Dabi considers the words, considers him, and then shrugs slightly, his tail flicking a bit. "I don't know." He shifts, turning slightly away from him as he focuses on his meal, making it very clear he's finished with this line of conversation. 
Tomura doesn't push him on that. He's supposed to be building trust with the other man. He doubts he'll get him onto his ship otherwise. 
///
Dabi isn't sure about any of the things that Tomura tells him. He didn't know there were other people out in the sky, he didn't know there were worlds that were like his but not, that the creatures invading their forests and stealing their eggs were looking for something pretty rather than stealing them away to eat. What he knows most sharply from his conversations with Tomura is that... he isn't looking for a mate. He never was. He only gave him the things he did to try and get him close enough to put the collar on him so they could speak. Tomura brought him gifts to tell Dabi what danger he is in, and that is all he did it for. He never intended to do anything else. 
And Dabi is aching with his hurt every time he goes and curls into his big, warm, fluffy nest with his stomach full. His mother had never had such a lush nest, his father and all of them had never been able to provide her or Shoto such luxury when their heats came. But Tomura doesn't seem to know or even understand any of that. He only means to try to do right by his whole people. That shouldn't sting so badly, but as the smell of the human fades and fades from the blankets, it's the scent of his sorrow that replaces it. Not even the monster his people feared could want someone as broken as him. 
///
"Tomura?" Dabi asks as he comes to the fire. Tomura finishes adding the sections of wood that he gathered earlier in the day and looks up at him. The smaller man looks up at him, his ears pulled down again and his tail flicking by his ankles, like a guilty dog. 
"What is it? Did something happen?" 
Dabi shakes his head slightly, but his head is still down. "How long will it take?" 
"A day and a half to travel there, but they should send someone to the docking bay immediately when I tell them you're with me. I don't know how long they would make me confine you to my ship as they checked you out, but I don't think it would be more than a few days, otherwise they would probably just have me bring you back here so that you wouldn't be off your planet for too long. Maybe a week?" He hopes that it wouldn't be longer than that. He's already spent a lot of time on this job and he's sure the file is properly in circulation now. If they don't sort this out quickly, then the likelihood of other Salkeh getting taken away is absolutely going to go up. 
Dabi shifts on his feet. "I can't leave for two weeks," he says and Tomura wants to argue. "I need medicine if I'm going to try." 
"Medicine?" 
"It's almost time for me to lay my egg. I can hold it off, but I need the fruit from a special tree. If I have enough of the fruit I can push it back for a little while." 
Tomura would almost laugh if Dabi didn't sound so dire as he speaks. Every species on every planet has their own versions of birth control, it's just something that is slowly becoming apparent as a universal constant. "Okay, I can help you gather it if you want." 
"I need you to go get all of it." Dabi tells him. "We only plant the trees on the edge of a claimed territory, and I'm not allowed near any. If they smell I was by the tree, they may come to... hurt me." 
"Okay, where is the tree?"
Over the course of the next few minutes, Dabi gives him directions that Tomura maps out with the sensors that he's placed around the area, and he gets a detailed description of the tree, though it shouldn't be too hard to spot given that it is much smaller than the species that is dominant all throughout this area. The fruits themselves are the size of Dabi's fist, so around the size of an apple, but should be dark purple with a fuzzy white layer of hair along their skin to show they're ripe. 
He would rather not travel at night, but with time being so important, and now knowing the other Salkeh are diurnal, he would rather go to the edge of their territory under the cover of night. Just to lower his chances of getting disemboweled, if at all possible. So he gears up and heads out, Dabi staying behind and watching after him as he goes. 
///
The trek through the snowy forest is, thankfully, not as difficult as he feared it would be, though the cold and moving carefully through the snow does mean he's going much more slowly than he usually does. Still, it's worth it when he gets to the tree and finds that it is filled with the fruits exactly as described. He pulls a small folding bag out of one of his pockets and starts to pick the ones he can reach, going a bit higher than the ones he imagines will be easier for the Salkeh who live in this territory to get to. Dabi said to bring as many as he could, and he's guessing he'll need to eat them every day that they're gone, so he fills the bag with nearly three dozen and makes his way back to the campsite. 
Dabi is waiting for him, inspects the fruits and starts to take them up to his den. 
"Dabi, we should leave as soon as we can." He warns. 
"Tomorrow?" The creature asks, his shoulders hunching in on himself. "I... might be sick after eating some of these. I need a few hours to adjust." 
He doesn't really want to put the other man on his ship, on the first vehicle that he's ever been on, when he already might be at risk of throwing up, so he concedes to that. "Okay, I'm going to go back to my ship and sleep and in the morning I'll gather up my gear and then fly the ship back here. Do you need more food for the trip?" The Vaak that he hunted for the other is still only half eaten, though he supposes that's not really a surprise, the creature was the size of a moose. 
"No," Dabi mumbles, and Tomura isn't going to say that the creature has ever been jovial or even all that talkative, but he certainly seems more dower than he has been before. Part of him wants to ask if pausing his laying is painful or dangerous, but the fact of the matter is that him not doing it could be far, far worse. So he just says, 
"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?" 
"Yeah." He slinks back up to his den and Tomura extinguishes his fire thoroughly before going back to his ship. It's a lot of hiking on very little sleep, but he can sleep for a few hours in the ship, and the autopilot will be able to cover him on the way to the nearest settled planet. 
///
Dabi doesn't dare curl up in his nest as he eats the raca fruit. Tomura brought him plenty and he purged his stomach as much as he could while the other was gone in the hopes of getting their toxins into his system as quickly and thoroughly as possible, but he still will have to eat so many of them to try and stall the heat that he can feel sitting on the edge of his awareness. He waits until he can't hear Tomura crunching through the snow anymore and then he slips out of the den and takes the first fruit from the bag. The plump insides are bitter and sour as he eats it, the taste immediately making his stomach lurch, but he quickly tears the hard pit from the insides and gulps down the soft pulp of the rest of the fruit in a handful. It has barely hit his stomach before he is reaching for the next, and the next, and the next. He eats them until his whole body feels hot, the fur across his chin is sticky and wet, his claws are soaked, and he's sobbing softly as his body tries to revolt. 
He only manages to hang on for another two fruits before he can't any longer, shifting away to empty his stomach of the fruit that tastes the same crawling up his throat as it did going down. Dabi means to move back to the bag and continue the miserable feast, but the stress and pain in his body are too much, he was too close, and a cloying, sickly warmth starts to bloom through his veins. He stumbles as he tries to stand, dizzy and even weaker than he usually is as his heat swells through his body, barely managing to drag himself back into the safety of his den before his legs give out beneath him. 
///
Tomura lands his ship in the clearing the following afternoon and spends the next twenty minutes boxing up bits of the Vaak to bring along for Dabi to eat. He knows the other doesn't drink as much water as he does, but he also goes about ensuring that he takes several gallons of the water from the river for him. He makes sure that his ship has fully filtered through the air that was inside, runs a decontamination sweep on the thing, and then leaves the bay doors open to take in as much of the pollen, air, and anything else that the planet might have that will hopefully keep Dabi alive. He usually knows how to adjust his ship's environment for his cargo, but he also usually is going after a known species. He doesn't know if Dabi's race is so delicate that a change in humidity or slight fluctuation in pressure could kill him, so he does his best to calibrate all of his systems to keep him safe for the journey. He even lowers the heat so that it will maintain the temperature of the planet, even if that means he's going to be miserable for a few more days. 
And by the time he's done all of that, it's well after noon, and there is still no sign of Dabi. He waits another hour and the alien still doesn't appear. At the end of that hour he goes up to the base of the mountain and calls, 
"Dabi?" He knows the creature's name, and even if he's out of range for the translator, he should be able to hear him anyway. But he doesn't get a response. Tomura hesitates. He hasn't climbed up to the creature's den. At first it was out of fear that he was hiding a vicious pack inside that would tear him to pieces, but after that, it was entirely because he was worried that doing so would encroach on the other's territory and make him feel unsafe. He needs Dabi to trust him and to be able to trust the other if they're going to be in a confined space together for a few days. 
But he also said that the fruits could make him sick. He debates with himself for another twenty minutes, but then he goes back into the ship, gets his climbing gear. The distance from the place where he's seen Dabi disappeared and the ground isn't all that much, but given the icy surface of the stones and mountainside, he would rather be safe than sorry. It takes him another twenty minutes to climb up to the ledge he always sees the other duck into, and even just a cursory look around has him locating the narrow entrance to a cave along with the half-empty bag of fruits, the pits of them, and a pile of what he can only guess is frozen sick. Concern lances through him and he goes over to the mouth of the cave. 
"Dabi?" He calls softly. 
The earpiece crackles to life and he hears a soft, distinctive whimper from deep within the cave followed by a sound he can only describe as a sob. Tomura's stomach sinks. 
"Dabi, are you alright? Can I do anything to help?" 
"T-Tomura," He whines again at the end of the word, and he takes a tentative step into the cave, having to crouch down a fair bit to fit inside. 
"I'm going to come inside, okay?" The other just lets out another weak sob and Tomura doesn't know if he could feel worse about this situation. He's never thought he was a particularly good person, but the realization that he made a newly discovered species cry before he even found out if they could laugh is a truly miserable thing. The other doesn't protest, just giving a pained moan, and he moves through the narrow channel, his nose slowly starting to pick up on a sweet citrusy smell that vaguely resembles lemongrass. It also gets warmer, much, much warmer as he goes, the sunlight dimming behind him, but not going so dark that he can't see anything, because there is a faint blue-green light emanating from deeper in the cave. 
He finds out what that is at the same time as he finds the larger opening. He is on his knees, crouching low, as he sees four eggs, four of the sought-after shining eggs spilling the aurora borealis along the walls and ceiling... in the shape of four figures. They're crudely carved, but they're clearly shaped in a similar away to Dabi. Four Salkeh watching over Dabi who is curled up in what he can only describe as a large, fluffy, makeshift bed built around the blankets he gave the other. 
Dabi mewls at him, a sound that is distinctly cat-like, his bleary eyes blinking up at him, shiny and wet with his tears, his thicker fur pasted to his forehead from his sweat. And it is very warm in the den, Tomura realizes distantly as the small alien writhes in the nest, spreading his legs and showing the hard, flushed cock and dripping cunt, the lips nestled around his base like his dick has replaced where he would expect a clit to be. He feels his face heat and starts to move away. 
"Tomura," Dabi reaches towards him, milky tears slipping over his cheeks. "'M sorry," his voice is watery and thin and his gut sinks. 
"It's alright, I'll wait for you outside--" 
Dabi keens at him, trying to sit up, and when his hands can't reach him, his tail wraps around his wrist. He reaches for the appendage gently and even just the lightest touch has Dabi moaning so loudly, putting all of his sharp teeth on display. "N-need to lay--" He whines, his claws clenching around the blanket and twisting to press his face deeper into it. 
"Okay, that's fine, Dabi." Embarrassment is a heat tingling down his spine as he sees the alien in such an intimate moment. His first instinct is to extract himself to give the other some privacy, but that wars with what he knows about childbirth in his own species alongside the watchful figures that Dabi has made for himself crudely out of his eggs. "Do you want me here? Should I keep watch at the entrance to make sure no one else comes in?" 
Dabi whimpers and his tail pulls on him. "You'll stay?" 
His mouth is dry as he croaks, "If you need me." He's not expecting Dabi to start to purr. He's also not expecting the other to force himself to sit up, claws tangling on his sleeves as he tries to pull him weakly into the nest. 
"T-thought you weren't--" Dabi loses the words in another loud purr as he tries to get him even closer. "Mate, my mate?" 
"Mate?" He doesn't want to push the other away, worried about hurting him, or accidentally getting his gear shredded on those sharp claws, but Dabi is purring and pressing in even closer, shoving his face into his neck and breathing deeply to scent him. 
"Please, please, please. Such a good mate." The other tells him desperately, trying to hook a leg around his hips and pull him closer. "Bringing me food, protecting me, helping make my nest--" Dabi lets out a strange mixture of sounds that the translator can't make sense of. "Be good," he promises, "Be a good mate for you." 
"Dabi," he says as gently as he can, "I can't be your mate." He hates having to say the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, but, "I don't know if we're compatible." And then he wants to slap himself because that should not be the thing that he said. That shouldn't have even crossed his mind. He should have told the other he didn't know those things were-- oh, oh! Is that why he had been so despondent? He thought he was trying to... court him? Tomura's chest tightens as a few more milky tears slip over Dabi's cheeks, his face stricken. 
He's an idiot. He's beyond stupid and this is a terrible idea, but he can't stomach that look on Dabi's face. He can't bear the thought of hurting this creature like this any more than he could leaving him to get captured and abused by some other poacher. He whimpers softly and Tomura... settles more fully into the nest. Dabi's body feels like an inferno, the heat reflected and retained by the blanket he gave him. 
"How can I make this better?" Should he be helping to shift him into a different position? He looks down at the other's stomach and it doesn't seem to have any visible swelling, though he feels like it should given the eggs around the cavern are nearly the size of a pineapple. 
Dabi, maybe his brain cooked through with the heat of his body or the arousal that is making his pussy gush and his cock drip, pulls on him again, his tail shifting from his wrist to up between Tomura's legs. He nearly yelps at the touch, and Dabi chirps and purrs so loudly when he feels his cock beneath the thick fabric. "Mate, mate, mate," he can't tell if the word is a term of endearment or a demand, but Tomura supposes for a species that doesn't constantly have their genitals on display, his body must seem... eager to him. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he is. That despite everything else, all of the messy things that are happening, Dabi is cute. He's pretty so flushed and needy, his body desperate to be fucked full, and the purrs and moans, the pleading whimpers and whines, how needily he's pulling on him to get him close-- Tomura hasn't had a partner in ages now, and one so eager puts an ill-gotten heat under his skin. 
"Are you sure?" His voice is rough and desperate himself, almost wanting the alien to come to his senses and turn him away. 
"Please, Tomura, hurts," he whimpers, pulling again. 
"Tell me how to make you stop hurting, beautiful." He murmurs, reaching for his gloves. He's burning up, sweat already prickling at his skin beneath his gear, and as he sheds those, Dabi starts to pull more insistently at his jacket. That joins his gloves, his boots, his pants and the thermals beneath all of it, he strips away layer after layer of clothes, and Dabi watches with some fascination as he does. The heat in the cavern is enough for him to barely feel the chill of the outside air that's coming from the entrance. When he's naked too, his cock starts to harden as Dabi spreads his legs wider, letting go of him to keep his sharp claws away from his skin. The fur around his cock and cunt is matted down with how get he is, and Tomura gives into the urge he's had since he saw his dart bounce harmlessly off of his fur, and lets his fingers trace along the fur over the outside of his thigh. 
Dabi purrs again, and the fur, for as tough as it must be, is extremely soft, but dense. It's cloud-like in texture, but there seems to be so much of it, despite how short most of it appears. He tries to gently press his fingers into it, but no matter how warm it is, he doesn't feel the texture of skin beneath, too thick for his touch to sink in. His tail wraps around Tomura's wrist again, grip tight around him, and he brings his hand from the outside of his thigh, to over top of it and then, "Please," he pleads as his cock twitches, the skin there visible and flushed with the heat of his blood. Tomura's breathless as he very gently rubs his fingers along him. Dabi still moans so loudly, back bowing so sharply that he worries he might have hurt him. But he didn't, he's just breathlessly needy as he tries to get more. 
The slick along his cock isn't dissimilar to his own pre, to the vaginal fluid that leaks out of an eager cunt, and when Dabi doesn't growl, snarl, or try to twist away, he lets himself wrap his hand around his length. His cock is the right size for his body, but it's still so small compared to him. Everything about Dabi is small, and he is easily able to have his entire length smothered in his palm, feeling little regular bumps and ridges along his underside that he hadn't been able to see well, but that feel almost as solid as bone beneath his burning velvet skin. It could be bone, he considers distantly. Some species have bones there. It's hard to focus on any coherent thought when Dabi's pretty blue eyes are squeezed shut and he's writhing, his little hips fucking up into his fist and his pretty lips open on  every gasp and moan that he's letting out. 
"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura," the alien keens and he has to stroke him, has to twist his wrist and pump him, slowly increasing the pressure until he finds the things that make him feel good. He thinks he knows when a fresh pulse of slick streams out of his cunt, soaking the blanket beneath them and filling the air with more of that lemongrass scent. "Inside, please, please, need you, please--" 
It's perhaps the only time any human man has ever said, "I don't know if I'll fit, baby," and actually meant it, actually been uncertain. He doesn't know if Dabi can take his cock, certainly not without stretching him for it. But he does take his other hand and drag his fingers through the thick puddle of his slick. He makes sure his fingers are coated thoroughly before he brings them to the puffy lips of his cunt and starts to rub at that soft skin gently, watching with fascination as his anatomy opens for him. The lips spread wider, his cock gets a little longer as it pushes even further out of his body, and he can see the little hole between his legs more clearly. Tomura keeps his touch gentle as he circles him with a finger, and more slick rushes to meet him as Dabi moans and he hears his claws pierce through the blanket. Tomura circles and rubs, but the muscles are soft, giving, and just as eager as the rest of Dabi's body. 
His pussy squeezes around his digit deliciously as he pushes it inside. It's probably a miracle his slick isn't burning off his skin and that his vagina doesn't have teeth or spikes or something inside. It's just hot, wet, and tight, sucking at his finger as he presses it in all the way to the base as Dabi sobs his pleasure. He tries to go slowly, feeling half-crazed as he feels Dabi's body trying to suck at him to get more. He strokes along the soft muscles and feels them give and press back as they undulate against him and he is achingly hard himself as he imagines how tight they'll squeeze him if he can actually give Dabi his cock safely. 
Tomura can't help it, he doesn't know what the other man would want, he's not even certain how the Salkeh normally mate, but he is only human. He leans over the creature's much smaller body and he catches his panting mouth in a kiss. A mouth that is full of sharp teeth that are strong enough to rend bone, that he should be terrified of despite how small and sweet the other feels beneath his lips, but Dabi knows this. His people have a concept of kissing, because his mouth is messy and eager against him, kissing back as his arms wrap around his neck to keep him there and his legs try to wrap around his hips to bring those closer as well. He manages to hook his thighs around his hips, but he can't pull him all the way in, and Dabi lets out a frustrated chitter as he uses his tail to wrap around one of Tomura's thighs and try to pull him even closer. He can't help the breathless laugh he lets out against the other's mouth, and he starts to press in a second finger to try and quell some of his need, stroking his cock in time with the movements along his walls. 
That doesn't calm the creature at all, and he uses his sharp teeth to nip at Tomura's chin, the points dangerous, but not breaking his skin as he does. "Mate me, correctly." He demands, digging his dew claws into Tomura's back just hard enough to put a tantalizing sting of pain under his skin. 
"I'm opening you up, Dabi." He murmurs, drawing his fingers back and pumping them in more deliberately. Dabi keens, his back arching as his cunt gushes around him. "You're so small, little one," his own voice getting rougher as he feels the deceptively delicate body against him. "I don't want to break you." 
"Break me if it means I'll be full," he demands, pounding a fist weakly against the back of his neck. 
"Such a demanding little size queen." He can't keep the warmth out of his voice. 
Dabi curses. The translator knows it's a curse, but it doesn't know how to translate the saying, not having enough of a sample of things on Dabi's world to pull from as he does so. "You are a bad mate!" He snarls, but he's not pulling away, he's just whining and it should not be as endearing as it is, making Tomura's insides warmer as he presses a kiss to Dabi's cheek, 
"Let me give you one more and then you can try my cock, alright?" 
It seems to be enough for the other man because he angles his hips up into his touches again and Tomura presses in a third finger. It already feels like a tight squeeze, but even then the Salkeh doesn't seem satisfied, his cock dripping and such an angry red at his tip, his hips constantly rutting up to fuck himself harder on his digits. He presses more kisses to his cheek, down along his slender neck, chancing licking at his fur which is such a strange textural experience against his tongue, but the other's fur tastes the way it smells, with a strangely herbal tang coming through as well. He doesn't know if he should stop, if he's accidentally going to poison himself by licking at the other's flesh, but Dabi starts to purr even louder as he gets impossibly wetter and Tomura quickly dismisses any hang-ups about the texture. He'll hack up a hairball if it means that he can keep making Dabi feel good. 
He takes the third finger easily enough, and Tomura hopes that means that whatever this state is as he prepares to lay his egg means that his insides are as elastic as they must be for that task. He doesn't want to tear the other open around his cock that he guesses must be much larger than any that Dabi has had before just based on the size of his species. He withdraws his fingers and Dabi starts to purr even more loudly, the sound rumbling out of his chest like a warp engine switching gears, and sending vibrations across both of their skin. Tomura smears the fluid all over his hand along his cock, the touch there making his own need more than insistent as just the cursory strokes make him desperate for the release he was trying to ignore his body craving. 
When he lines up, Dabi pulls on him again. His head looks too big for him and as he does start to slowly press inside, the stretch of Dabi's cunt is deliciously obscene as it spreads so wide for him. The pressure and heat is blinding as he pops his head inside, Dabi's body convulsing around the intrusion and then tightening so much Tomura nearly sees stars as Dabi's cock twitches in his hand, his cunt gushing, his seed spilling thickly all over his hand and stomach as the other comes from that first stretch of him. A heady rush goes through his body as those muscles start to loosen again as Dabi writhes and moans against the nest, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight as pleasure seems to wrack his body. He pushes in a little harder, a little deeper, and the other keens, but his body opens for him. He sinks all the way inside and Tomura thinks he's going to lose his mind. He's so tight, so hot, so wet. Dabi's body clings to him, texture along his walls that isn't like any human or alien he's ever fucked before. 
And he's breathless when he sinks all the way inside and he can see the press of himself as a faint shadow along Dabi's stomach. He tries to roll his hips just a bit, and he can see the muscles in his abdomen flutter, can feel them, and he can see how the movement shifts inside. Fucking hell. He's not certain he's ever felt his arousal burn this hot beneath his skin and it's only made all the stronger when Dabi opens his eyes just a sliver so he can see that shining blue and his breath trembles as he demands, 
"More." 
He can't really stop himself from giving the other everything that he can. Tomura fucks into Dabi's body, starting slowly, but as the alien moans and squeezes around him, his cock still hard even after his orgasm, and makes it so abundantly clear that he wants every inch of him that his body can take, he can't hold back. Soon their movements are rough, shifting the blankets beneath them, his mouth dragging over wherever he can reach as he looks for places to make both of their pleasure burn hotter. Dabi doesn't have nipples or a belly button under his fur, but he does have a place on the side of his neck just under his jaw, where a sweeter scent is mingling with that of his slick, and his eyes roll back when he sinks his teeth in there at the same time as he thrusts as deeply as he can go into the other's body. He makes such a wonderful symphony of sounds as Tomura tries to write pleasure into both of their bodies, switching between moans, chitters, and purrs constantly. 
His breaths are growing heavier, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable as they move, and his pleasure starts to go so hot, tightening the muscles in his thighs and through his pelvis. His balls are drawing closer to his base as his orgasm pushes on his nerves. He doesn't know how Dabi knows that he's getting close, but he starts chirping, making short bright sounds as he tries to pull him closer, his tail wrapping tight around one of his thighs to try and drag him in deeper. He's not expecting his cock to hit something deep inside of the alien's body, something that twitches and flutters against his head before it latches on like there's a tiny mouth sucking at his tip deep inside of Dabi. The surprise, the sensation of that is what sends him over the edge. He lets out a rough groan as he is held deep in the other's body, cumming hard and shaking as his orgasm lasts much longer than it ever does normally. And he just keeps cumming. He's certain that it should be painful, that his body shouldn't be able to give the other so much, but there is a little bulge forming on his stomach where his tip sits, where he's filling the other's body. Tomura can't help the thin whine he lets out as Dabi purrs and purrs as that place inside of him pulls out every drop of cum that he thinks he's ever been able to produce in his life in, god, it must take at least a minute or two, and when he's finally finished, those internal muscles finally let go of him and Dabi slumps bonelessly to the nest, his cock softening and his body letting Tomura pull his out. There's an aching oversensitivity there and he ends up shifting so that he doesn't crush the other beneath him, laying back on the blanket and just trying to catch his fucking breath. 
And then Dabi shifts, half crawling on top of him, his face pressing tightly up into his neck, his tail tangled around one of his legs, and his arms back around him, clinging to his body, and he starts to purr and purr. And Tomura decides he doesn't give a single fuck, he's too busy petting at the soft fur all along the alien's body. 
///
Tomura, for as much as he seemed confused about the mating process at the start, is a good mate for him as his heat swells through his body. His cock is so much bigger than any Dabi has ever seen before, but he supposes that shouldn't be a surprise when he is a much bigger creature in general, and he feels so good inside of his body. Dabi doesn't know how he ever could have pretended to be satisfied with his own tail before when he fills every space of him and gives him so much seed that it leaves his breeding pouch distended with the fluid as his egg forms. And Tomura's body is different underneath his hides. His skin is warmer and more of one even color save for when he's flushed, and he isn't covered in fur elsewhere, which he supposes is why he needs all of the hides that he wears to stay warm. And he's... good. He's sweet. He brings him water, both warmed by a fire outside to help clean up the stickiness from his fur and cold from the river to drink. He brings him food when he's hungry, and he gives him his cock again and again whenever he craves that impossible, delicious fullness.
And being so full, getting so much from the other in such a short period of time means that it is barely three days before he feels that hardness forming low in his abdomen. It doesn't hurt, it's just a different kind of pressure and he is purring and purring as he feels the egg becoming more and more solid. He's never been able to form his egg so quickly and he immediately knows that this will be the shortest heat he's ever had. he's not certain if that's because Tomura was able to fill him so thoroughly, or if it's because he made sure he was so well-fed throughout his entire preparation period, but he doesn't care either way. Even if the egg won't be fertile, and none of his eggs ever are, it still puts something deep and satisfying in his body as he realizes that he will be able to lay so easily for once in his life. 
When his body finally starts to feel as though the pressure is getting too great he starts to nose at Tomura's neck, chittering and chirping to try and get him to wake from his sleep. The human pulls him closer, into his side and presses his face between his ears, nuzzling sweetly into his hair and making Dabi's whole body even warmer and softer. He's a good mate. He's warm and soft, and more affectionate than his father ever was with his mother during her heats. He hopes Shoto finds a mate this sweet someday. 
"What is it, little one? Do you need it again?" He murmurs, his other hand moving down Dabi's body, he touches his lower stomach, feeling the harder press of the egg beneath his skin and Dabi moans softly. His cock is starting to harden again, the pressure inside of him putting good pressure everywhere, just like the other's cock. 
He chitters, rolling onto his back and pulling at the human, being careful of his claws. For as strong as Tomura was to be able to hunt a Vaak so easily, without his hides on, his skin is soft and easy to break. He doesn't want to hurt the other. So he is careful as he gently pulls at him and gets him between his legs. He needs the other to fill him again, to make sure that his walls are already soft and gushing to make room for the press of the egg as it comes. 
Tomura doesn't hesitate to help him get out the egg. He presses inside as he kisses along his neck, licking at his mating gland. He's nibbled on it a few times throughout his heat and each time he does, Dabi only grows more and more desperate for him to bite at his properly. But Tomura doesn't have the same kind of bump on his neck and he worries that he won't be able to give him that. Maybe humans do something else to show that they have taken a mate. He doesn't know. He doesn't have the focus in him to bother to ask. All he cares about is how good it feels when Tomura rubs their cocks together, when he presses his length between his folds and moves against him to stimulate his nerves until his lips are puffy and his cunt is wet and dripping, making sure he coats himself in Dabi's fluids like he wants to soak his scent into his skin before he's even gotten inside. But then he does start to push in and he goes absolutely breathless. Stars dance behind his eyes as his body is made to stretch, and stretch, and stretch open as the other creature makes his insides part around his length. 
He can't be blamed for how good that feels, can't be shamed for how quickly just that entrance and the first few gentle rolling thrusts make him tremble through the heights of his pleasure as they come crashing through him. He certainly does not think he can be blamed for that feeling so perfect that Dabi feels his egg loosen itself from the walls of his breeding sack, and before his mate has even cum to slick his walls further, it is starting to shift slightly lower. Dabi keens, not having words for the feeling of that pressing against the inner muscles that are usually so tight to hold in his mate's seed inside, being stimulated at the same time as they press on his outsides as well on each deep, languid thrust from the human. Dabi can hardly breathe. Normally laying, even when he was allowed to do so, was painful. It was so much pressure and such sharp discomfort as the egg pressed out of his body, but now he is dizzy from how good it feels, the movement on each side of that ring coaxing it open more and more. He feels delirious as he realizes that he's opening up for it without the agonizing cramping that usually comes with this part of the process. 
Tomura mates him slow and deep, one hand, his hands are soft, his claws thin and trimmed back to the beds of his fingertips so that he can't rend flesh, moves to Dabi's cock. He's still hard from how his body is forcing more and more blood there to make laying easier, and that further spike of pleasure opens him enough for the muscles inside to latch onto Tomura's cock again. He's never been able to mount another, but it must feel as good for the human as that suction does for him, because each time his body is ready to receive his release and attaches to him, it hardly takes long for him to shudder through his own orgasm, the first pulse of his fluids sending Dabi into another of his own. 
And as soon as his insides tighten, his egg starts to move. he unlatches from Tomura's cock, and he lets out a soft sound of surprise before he pulls out, seeing the bulge in his stomach beginning to shift. 
"Oh," he breathes, bringing a hand to Dabi's stomach and pressing lightly. Dabi moans as his pelvis tingles with fresh pleasure as the egg moves. It feels heavier than it normally does, though he supposed that's because he hasn't been starving for two weeks before pressing out an egg with a shell barely thick enough to hold. He can feel the ridges and patterns of his shell moving along his walls this time, the sign of a well-formed egg that makes his whole body hum with pride. "Already?" Tomura asks, sounding awed as the bump disappears from the surface of his stomach, as the egg presses into his vaginal canal, and his hand moves lower too. He spreads Dabi's lips wider without even needing to be told, the mixture of his cum and Dabi's slick easing the way so that he can press out the egg. It's not an hours-long struggle that leaves him completely drained this time. It's an easy, gentle slide, his insides already so stretched and used to the delicious feeling of Tomura's cock pushing in so deep. Dabi purrs and purrs as the egg slips free of his body and settles gently into the soft nest beneath him. 
Tomura's hands leave his body and he reaches for the egg, and a flicker of fear goes through him. He said he wasn't a thief, that he didn't want his egg, but it could have been a lie. He could take it now, and Dabi isn't sure that he would have the strength to stand and chase after him to get it back. Even if it is empty, he doesn't want to give it up. Panic surges through his chest--
And Tomura lifts it and offers it to him. The egg has the shiny iridescent color that a strong shell should, the bones he'd eaten throughout the past few weeks imparting it with what it needed to form so well. And the swirls, they're more distinct, better formed than any other that he's ever seen, creating deep ridges and grooves that make it look like something truly unique and lovely. He's never seen another egg like this one, and he thinks that must be because no one else of his kind has ever had a mate like Tomura. He can't help it when he starts to purr and purr as he gently takes the egg from his hands, intending to lick it clean, but Tomura takes some of the cloth he first gave him, unsoiled from their mating, and begins to help him clean it off. He doesn't steal it, he doesn't take it to be crushed the way his father used to take his other eggs. He watches over Dabi, his expression warm, as he holds it. 
There isn't anything inside. He hadn't let himself even pretend that it would be different because he had Tomura. It's his body that is incapable of creating a viable seed, be it in his womb or otherwise, and he can't feel the pulse of warmth that would be inside if it were alive. He can't hear the shifting inside that would indicate that there was something inside. But it's easier not to care about that now. If there is no baby then he can hollow this egg like he has his others, he can keep it close forever, a little part of him and Tomura even if the human tells him he still never intended to take him as a proper mate. 
///
Tomura isn't expecting to get to see Dabi lay his egg, and he's a little stunned and dreading the eventual conversation about the egg itself. About... the child that they may have now after he made himself at home in Dabi's bed. He doesn't know what to think, what to do. He certainly wouldn't be the first human to go off-planet, meet a new species, and immediately copulate, potentially spawning hybrid children, but he didn't think he would actually be the type to do so. He also didn't think he would be the hind to see Dabi holding the egg, the shining, swirling shell nearly eight inches tall and six wide, and wonder how that could have not only gotten out of the little creature, but also to keep finding himself feeling a warmth in his chest as he sees Dabi curling around it, pressing his cheek to it to check its temperature, his ear to it to listen for whatever he expects to hear inside. He doesn't know how he's supposed to ask what this means going forward, but he has to know as the next day he finds Dabi without his genitals visible again, blinking and looking at his surroundings much more carefully, his blue eyes brighter and more aware than they have been for the past few days. 
Tomura has to ask-- and Dabi stands, egg in his arms, and goes outside. 
He immediately scrambles to put all of his clothes back on, having been in only his thermals from how hot the den was, but he knows that he can't let the other just wander around, not when it's been two days and he has no idea if there are other poachers that have already arrived in the area. The other man has been practically non-verbal for days, so he gets into his clothes as quickly as possible and stumbles out into the snow, 
"Dabi, wait--!" 
The other creature is already down by the river and only glances up at him before he crouches into the snow by the bank, waiting. Tomura does his best to get down onto the ground, though he doubts he is anywhere near as graceful or quick as the other man. Still, Dabi waits for him to get down and move up to the edge of the river with him. 
"What are you doing?" 
"Emptying the egg. It'll rot if I leave the stuff inside." His voice is a little scratchy from how much he's been purring and moaning, and he doesn't sound particularly happy about the prospect either. 
"...Rot?" 
Dabi doesn't look at him as he nods, turning the egg onto its tip so that he can use one of his sharp claws to scrape away gently at the surface until he scrapes through enough of the shell to pierce his claw inside. He tips it onto is side and lets the liquid drain out, a milky mixture that looks startlingly similar to their fluids as they gushed out of Dabi with the egg as it was laid, but no clear part, no yolk as he was taught to expect from an egg laid to carry a living creature of any kind. 
"I can't lay healthy eggs," his ears droop low and he won't look up at Tomura as he says that. "I'm sorry." He drains the rest of the fluid and rinses it out in the water until it passes his test, and even after just a minute or two open and not in the water, the inner shell begins to oxidize and it starts to glow a gentle blue. 
"You don't have to apologize, Dabi. I'm not sure I would have been ready to be any kind of parent to a child." He doesn't bother to say it's a relief the egg was infertile. "I don't know if I'm... a suitable mate either." He says more carefully. 
Dabi's shoulders hunch in on themselves. "Okay." He hugs his egg close to his chest, "We need to leave, don't we? I'm sorry for the delay. I should have had you get the fruit as soon as you told me it would be important for us to leave soon." 
Tomura wants to protest, wants to... he doesn't know, give the other some time? A minute alone, maybe, but Dabi is pushing up from the snow and starting towards his ship, still holding the egg carefully, but straightening his spine. Maybe the other doesn't want that though. He doesn't know, he just knows that they do need to make up for lost time. 
He gets the other situated into the ship, having someone in the seat beside his own for the first time, and he makes certain that everything is ready. Dabi still holds onto the hollowed egg, as his ears pitch forward with his interest as he starts up the engines. He keeps finding himself glancing over at Dabi as he starts the final checks, starts the take off procedures, the moment that the engines start and they begin to rise. He brings the ship up past the trees, ascending carefully, and Dabi's nose is all but pressed to the glass as he sees the forest from above. His pupils have blown wide, his tongue peeking out from between his lips like a cat excited to be given a new toy and Tomura feels helpless to the warmth in his chest. 
Space travel was something old and commonplace when he was born. He had been to Earth's moon for a field trip when he was only five. He knows he was impressed then, but since that point, he's spent most of his life in space ships or on other planets. He hasn't even been back to Earth in six years. But seeing the look of wonder on the other's face is... something else. 
"You're going to want to sit back," he instructs, not entirely sure why his throat feels tight. "We're going to go fast to get out of your atmosphere." 
Dabi sits back and wraps his tail around his egg for added security. 
He wonders what it says about him that he still can't help but feel a deep endearment for the creature when they enter hyperspace and the lurch of movement has Dabi throwing up on his floor.
///
The trip to Coth E1 is uneventful as far as the flight goes. The autopilot functions as it's supposed to, they don't get into any skirmishes or fly into an asteroid field, they just go from point A to point B. But the journey itself, having Dabi in the ship for a day and a half is different. About three hours after they left his planet, Dabi hadn't been so clingy and protective of his egg anymore, asking if there was somewhere he could put it where it wouldn't be broken, and Tomura had carefully shown him the smugglers hatch, using his coat to wrap it up in an extra layer of padding even before he put it in a secure box with a spare tarp. 
"My instincts are normalizing again." Is all Dabi had bothered to say when he'd asked if that would really be alright for the rest of the trip. 
He let it go then, and over the next hour he'd shown him around the rest of his small ship. But when that had been finished, Dabi had wanted to sit back at the front of the ship to look out the window. And Tomura had done his best to answer any and every question the Salkeh had about space and the things they passed as they flew. When Dabi had run out of questions, he had just looked out the window until his eyes grew too heavy and he let out a soft defeated coo before he had slumped low in the seat and fallen asleep. Tomura picked him up then, easily lifting the small creature, and carried him back to his cot. Dabi hadn't woken as he was moved, but he had immediately clutched onto his pillow and blanket, tucking his face in tight to the fabric and purring the same way he had when he had been tucked against his chest in their nest. 
He sat on the edge of the bed watching the other sleep for an agonizingly long time. 
///
Flying in the ship is fascinating. It's amazing to be able to travel through the night and see bursts of stars that are the suns of worlds so far away that even in a ship like Tomura's they wouldn't ever be able to reach them. Coming off of his cycle, out of the haze of desperation and longing he'd felt to be claimed by the other, his wonderment at being able to be in the sky is amazing. However, landing is horrible. 
He loses the little he managed to eat when he woke up again as the ship lurches as it comes down in the docking bay with many more ships, some much, much bigger that Tomura's, but the human anticipated his sickness this time and gave him a receptacle to be sick into, the mess being sealed away in seconds rather than spilling anywhere that will have to be cleaned. He also brings him a cup of water to drink to help clean out his mouth. 
"...Sorry." 
"It's fine, Dabi. Lots of species get motion sickness." He then turns his attention back to the panel of buttons in front of him. He hits a few and then a new thing opens across the window, partially blocking the view of the place they've landed in. "Shigaraki Tomura, docked in ship XR0U280. I'm calling to report I have an unregistered sapient species with me who would like to register with the Foundry." 
There's a slight pause and then more talking that Dabi can't understand despite the collar. 
"I'm a wildlife photographer," Tomura tells the other voice. "I came across him while visiting a nearby planet, I don't have access to that kind of equipment." 
There's another burst of speech from the other side, and it sounds calm. Tomura doesn't seem upset either. 
"Thank you, I'll have him put on a helmet before opening the doors." The little square goes away and Tomura turns to him. "Okay, they're going to send someone to check you over, alright? They're going to make sure you're healthy and that none of the things on this planet will make you sick." 
"Okay." 
Tomura brings him a dome to wear around his head and he hooks up a thing to it so that he can breathe, and in just a few minutes, he is opening the door to what looks like another human, and what looks like a reptile that walks on two legs. Tomura blinks when he sees the lizard-person. 
"Spinner? I didn't know you were out here." 
The lizard says something in turn, but Tomura is still calm and the other human, who is shorter than Tomura and that has lumps on their chest that Tomura doesn't produce something from inside of one of the pockets of the hide that they are wearing. They pass it off to Tomura and he turns back to him. 
"This is a universal translator, if you put it on, it will let you understand everyone who talks to you, not just me. It will also start to log your language so that anyone else who meets a Salkeh while wearing this, will be able to understand their speech and talk back to them." 
"Okay." 
"It's going to sting like the collar did." He warns and Dabi is not thrilled about that, but he allows the collar to be swapped for the new one. The sharp jolt that goes through him is easier to stomach this time because he was prepared for it, but Dabi can't say he enjoys it as it happens. 
"Hello," the other human says, "My name is Lilea Sylas, I work for the Foundry and am going to help you to register your species. This is my colleague Dr. Shuichi Iguchi. He's going to give you a check-up." 
"Okay." 
"If you have any questions or need anything explained, all you have to do is ask, we'll do our best to make sure that everything is as comfortable as possible." 
He turns back to Tomura, guilt twisting his stomach, "You'll stay, right?" He doesn't know if he can ask for that. They're not mates, after all. 
"Of course I will." He reassures without blinking. 
And he doesn't move an inch as the other two begin to ask him questions and check him over. 
///
It takes four days for them to do the full gamut of tests to make certain that Dabi isn't carrying any pathogens that he might give to others, and to determine that he isn't going to die to any of the natural ones here. He shouldn't go into weather exceeding twenty-one degrees Celsius for more than one hour without lots of fluids and even then he will have a risk of overheating if he stays in direct sunlight, he should limit his intake of grains to a maximum of five percent of his daily food, and he is deathly allergic to guava of all things. They also determine the dark spots and infertility are due to an autoimmune disease, not one that's transmittable, but that is hereditary, and likely something the rest of his former pack were also carriers of. 
He's not sure if finding out that information makes Dabi feel better or worse, but Tomura feels a hell of a lot better when the Foundry finds the file Proximacard made available for settlers going to Ipra 309T on the Salkeh and immediately send a cease and desist along with an order for immediate closure of the planet. The Foundry, or likely one of the exploration companies that work more closely with them like Exovin, is dispatched six hours after they arrived on day one to put a stop to it and make sure they all left. He's certain that when they find out, and he's sure they will, about Dabi's people being hunted for their eggs, they will put a blockade around the planet as well until they speak to the Salkeh. He doubts Dabi's people will trade away their young, but it will be up to them if they want any shell pieces after they've hatched to be illegal to be sold as well, if the rest of his people even want anything to do with the outside world. 
But at the end of the four days, Dabi is free to wander the planet, he is given a list of all the ones that he will also be able to travel to without having any adverse side-effects, or he can go home. The Foundry will offer transportation if Tomura has his own business to get back to. 
"Okay." Aside from answering questions, Dabi has been quiet for the past few days and it sinks his stomach to see him so despondent. Sylas leaves the ship, and Tomura promises to go out for drinks and to catch up with Spinner when he can, but he gets them out of the ship so it's just he and Dabi alone. When the others are gone Dabi turns to him, "Can I have my egg?" 
"Of course," he makes sure the bay windows are shuttered and then he goes down into the smuggler's hatch and retrieves the bundle. The full shell inside must have oxidized over the past few days of the trip, and he can see the lights dancing across the patterns that swirl over the shell. It feels much less fragile than a chicken egg, but he's still extremely careful with it as he brings it back up to Dabi. 
He takes it and holds it to his chest, "I can go back with the other ship." 
"You don't have to," he says immediately. It's stupid, he should really be distancing himself as much as possible from this situation before someone finds out what he normally does when he's going for wildlife 'shoots'. "I don't mind taking you home." 
Dabi's ears droop and he doesn't look up at him. "No. You've wasted enough time on me. You must have more important things to do."
Tomura isn't certain how he can tell Dabi that nothing he's ever done feels as important as this. Not when he can't really find words for it himself. "I really don't. If you want to go home, I'll be happy to take you." But he can't stop himself from adding, "but if you want to stay and explore, here or some of the other places you can visit, I'll go with you there too." 
That finally gets Dabi looking at him again. "...Why?" 
Why indeed. "Can't I just want to spend more time with you?" 
"No one else ever has." 
"I'll let you in on a universal secret," he tells the other. "Shitty families come from every planet. But they're not here now. You are the first of your kind to ever leave your planet, and you can go wherever you want and we can travel for as long as you want." He needs to stop his mouth from saying these things. He's not a child with some grand view of the galaxy who believes that every new world is an endless possibility. He's a criminal, traveling with him will be dangerous, Dabi will always be in danger until the fascination with the eggs dies. He has to be clear about that. "I would love to have you as a companion for as long as you'd like to stay." 
Dabi's bright blue eyes search his face for a long minute, and then he lets out a shaky breath. "I want to stay." 
Good. There's no other name for the lightness that fills his chest than relief as he realizes that he won't have to leave Dabi behind. "I need to tell you some other things about me. If you want to change your mind afterward, I'll still take you home if you want me to." 
///
Six Years Later
"Two of whatever you have with the domed ice, but absolutely no guava." The little bar that he's wandered into is off of the main thoroughfare, wide bay doors and a large u-shaped counter with several people sitting and sipping at drinks packed full of ice, waiting out the Vebbore heatwave that lasts about two hours as the planet's axis tilts them a little closer to the sun in this region. He sees a few Earth fruits on the counter and being mixed into drinks alcoholic and not, but no immediate signs of guava, still. Better safe than sorry. 
"Tomura Shigaraki." 
He tenses slightly and turns, hating that he has to look up at the middle-aged red-haired human that's speaking to him. He is even less thrilled to see a Constellation's Collective badge pinned to his chest. "Can I help you, officer?" 
"You have two outstanding--" 
"My outstanding warrants in this system were quashed two months ago." He says immediately, flicking open his wallet to pay for the two drinks that have been set in front of him. "Thank you," he acknowledges the bartender. He then lifts his ID for scanning, as is procedure in this system for any arrests. The officer grits his teeth as he does so, his device only taking a second to match his profile to the one in the system and confirm his statement. 
"You're under arrest." 
That... actually does surprise him. "You just saw my warrants--" 
"For the possession of illegal goods." 
"I can assure you I am of age to purchase a slushy, even an alcoholic one." He says flatly. 
The officer glares at him. "That," he says, gesturing to his neck, "Is Salkeh shell. Possession of which is illegal unless you can verify it was obtained ethically." 
Tomura nearly rolls his eyes. One of these kinds of cops. "It was obtained ethically--" he hears a distinctive chitter and braces himself. Sure enough, not three seconds later, a solid weight connects with his shoulders, Dabi's legs hooking quickly around his waist and his tail steadying them both as he reaches over his shoulder to take one of the cups. 
"You were supposed to wait in the ship, it's too warm out here for you." 
"You were taking too long." Dabi says in turn, taking a big bite out of the snow cone dome of ice over the cup. He purrs happily at the coolness and only then seems to take notice of the man still glaring at him. "Who's this?" 
"Pig." The cop's lip curls up into a sneer, and Dabi's tail flicks. 
"Oink. What's he want? I took care of your warrants." 
"He wants to know if my necklace was sourced ethically." 
Dabi snickers, shifting to press a kiss to the shell piece that he'd etched carefully and attached to his translator. The larger piece of the shell sits just under his jaw on the right side of his neck, a ring of Dabi's teeth casting little nebulas through where he thinned the sections for him, since he couldn't have survived taking a proper bite there. "Of course it was, you helped make it." He purrs, rubbing their necks together. His blunt human teeth couldn't have pierced his fur in turn, and instead they had found someone who could embroider with hair, and Tomura had given up a few locks so that he could have his teeth marks in his collar as well. "My mate is welcome to as much of our eggs as he wants." He turns his attention back to the cop, "If that's all?" 
The man clearly wants to argue, but they haven't broken any laws yet, and there are far too many people around who would likely take umbrage with him attempting to arrest Dabi at the very least. Afterall, when he's clinging to him like this, his dark talons disappear against Tomura's black clothes, making him look far smaller and more helpless than he would otherwise. The officer sneers at them one more time, pushing Tomura's wallet back into his hands before he turns and leaves the shop. He watches him go, making sure he actually leaves and isn't waiting outside to grab them as soon as they go, but Dabi is busy gobbling up the rest of the ice from the top of his drink and then quickly slurping down the contents, immediately reaching for Tomura's as well. 
He presses a kiss to the tip of his nose before he relinquishes it, knowing his mate is just not built for this kind of heat. "Did you decide what you want to do tonight?" 
"Yeah! I was talking to a Koquro woman at the bay and she said that there's a boat race after dark along the river, it's really dangerous because it's all in the dark except for the algae that glows as they stir it up." He nuzzles back against his cheek to whisper, "And I heard there's a lot of people trading things." 
"Hmm, we should probably make sure to refuel before we go then." Because Dabi has been having a very good time lately hunting down anyone who breaks the rules of going to his home planet and stealing their eggs. If he's planning on committing a few murders tonight, then they should be ready to leave as soon as possible. His mate starts to purr immediately at not being told no, as if Tomura can ever tell Dabi no over anything. But it does also earn him a kiss from his mate, so he's certainly not complaining. 
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Team 141/Reader - Gangbang TW: explicit consent given, polyamory, vaginal sex, anal sex, face-fucking, double penetration, spitting, come as lube, bulging, Ghoap sex, bukkake, degradation, orgasm control. Let me know if I missed one, I'm sorry. Proceed with caution, please.
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You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “...or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, and his cock was as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slag, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 
“He’s not allowed to come inside of you yet, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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