#injuries like that bleed like hell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i2sunric · 28 days ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (l.hs)

PAIRING: demon!heeseung x angel!reader (f)

SUMMARY: in a world where you either become angels or demons in the afterlife, heeseung and you were fates of high ranking. despite all the strict rules cast upon you, you two couldn't help but drown in the forbidden feeling of your love.

WARNINGS: kinktober. frforbidden love, mentions of blood and wounds, angels and demons, lucifer and God (i do not intend to offend anyone), sexual tension, smut, dry humping, making out, missionary, this is basically love making, cream pie, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fluff, pet names (angel, baby), bad jokes abt heaven and hell (lame ik), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 26th October 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lost-fantasy @annoyednblax @j1sb4e @eneiyri @strayy-kidz @victoriasvz @farashawhee @mheretoreadff @hazycottagedreams @kxppachu @rayofsunshineeee @moon368 @punchbug9-blog @strxwbloody @starggukies @wonbonie @304files @ethelia @moonpri @chuckychangmin @roslayy @cyjhhyj @iamliacamila @lanpanaz BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

NOW PLAYING: MATCH MADE IN HELL by Dutch Melrose and benny mayne

a/n: honestly (yet again) i don’t really like how it turned out, lol. the smut is mid and isn’t very filthy but hey, i tried. please lmk your thoughts and REBLOG to spread 🫶🩷. i’m not sure i’ll publish my other kinktober works (vampire sunghoon and werewolf jay), cause i won’t be able to finish them on time.

In a world where in the afterlife you become either angels and demons, based on the amount of sins one commits in their previous life, you were the wisest angel.

Of course, being God’s right arm didn’t always mean having cool jobs, like at that moment, while you were searching through all the death certificates of your chosen region to see who would become an angel and find him a place in heaven.

You remembered how it used to be overcrowded, but now it was almost empty.

After a certain amount of time, you stopped being someone’s guardian angel to either reincarnate or stay the eternity in heaven, helping newbie angels and making sure everything was at peace.

Demons would always try to bring chaos into the mundane world, throwing unlucky cards or haunting people’s dreams, trying to drive them insane or make them commit crimes, such as murder, mugging or even as cruel as suicide.

At least, you were given a room to rest for a couple of hours and to be able to do your job properly.

It was white, mostly, with a little bit of beige and pinkish tone. Glittery as well.

Sitting on your desk, you were scanning through the nth file of the night when you heard a loud cracking sound and a groan behind you.

You turned around just to see that Heeseung had teleported there, a deep frown on his face caused by the even deeper cut in his chest, where blood was spilling out.

“Heeseung!” You gasped, and he stumbled as you stood up.

He was the nastiest demon of hell, you two had arrived around at the same time and had always been in a fight since the beginning of your astral days.

Heeseung chuckled, his face paler than usual as he clutched the gash on his chest “It’s just a little cut.” He tried to brush it off, though you were sure if any human had that kind of injury, it would’ve been fatal.

He limped forward, leaning against the wall, giving you one of his usual cocky smirks “No need to worry.”

His smirk would’ve even been hot if he wasn’t bleeding out in the middle of your room, which happened to also be in heaven, a place he definitely shouldn’t be.

Heeseung couldn’t die because, well, he already did. But the healing process would’ve hurt as much as dying another time would.

You hurried towards him, forgetting the work on your desk as you helped him on the bed “What happened?”

He groaned loudly, lowering himself onto the bed and flopping onto it as he clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood from gushing out of his body.

Heeseung hissed, looking up at you with a frown. "Got into a little fight", He muttered, "Can't you just heal me up?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he smiled at your worried expression.

“With who?” You asked as you unbuttoned his mutilated black shirt and winced when you noticed in what state his skin was.

Dark blood spilled out of the gash, his veins had turned black from some kind of venom you couldn’t quite point out “Or what..?” You asked, knowing it wasn’t made from mere humans or other kinds of demons.

He knew it wasn't a pretty sight. The pain was bearable for him but seeing you so worried made him hate being injured.

Heeseung looked to the side, avoiding your gaze. "You know I can't tell you..." He murmured, his voice low with a hint of guilt.

You frowned, hating that he had to keep it a secret “I don’t care about this hell versus heaven issue,” You snapped, feeling highly frustrated in that situation, “I know you’re hiding your aura so that God won’t sense you here, but you must tell me what hurt you so badly.”

He knew you only wanted the truth, and he didn't like lying to you. “ I can't tell you what hurt me," He whispered, his voice filled with pain that he hid behind his stubborness.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading as he reached to cup your chin in his palm. "Please, stop asking me, angel."

You sighed softly. No pain was comparable to seeing him hurt, “Okay,” You breathed out “I’ll see if I have some healing potion, it should help you.”

He nodded his head slightly, giving you a weak smile “I’d appreciate that.”

Heeseung laid in the bed, his chest feeling heavy with the pain. He didn't dare move to watch you as you frantically searched the drawers, trying to find the potion that would help him.

You opened and reopened drawers in desperate search of the healing potion, but nothing seemed to come to you.

“I’m sure I put it here somewhere,” You murmured as you threw out of your drawers white clothings and other items.

The panicked look in your eyes made his heart ache. He didn't want you to worry so much about him.

Heeseung sat up slowly, wincing as he did so. He reached out towards you, his voice strained as he spoke. "Angel, come here."

“No,” You frowned, not even turning around to look at him “I have to find it- I must.”

He let out a small sigh when you refused to come towards him. He could sense your anxiety rising as you scoured the room for the potion.

“Y/N,," He said, his voice firm but laced with desperation. "Please. come here. You don't need to find it for me right now, just come here."

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you turned around. The blood dried a little, fortunately the flow had stopped completely.

You moved to the bed, sitting beside him as you adjusted the pillow behind his back.

“Don’t apologise,” His voice was a little too soft for a demon, “I just need you with me right now.”

You chuckled softly, “This looks like a bad joke. An angel worried about a demon.”

A light, amused smile appeared on his face. "It does sound quite ironic, doesn't it?"

He continued, “But I suppose it just shows the power of love, breaking boundaries even between heaven and hell."

You looked at him and nodded, intertwining your hands together, “It indeed is powerful.”

You looked at his gash again, it would take at least a whole day for it to fully close, and a week too for the scar to fade away.

At least, he was in your bed and not somewhere in hell-

bed. bed. under the bed you had some healing potion.

That’s where you had secured it. You jumped off the bed and quickly kneeled to rummage through the boxes.

He looked up in surprise at you when you jumped up so suddenly, his grip on your hand loosening as you rushed towards the bed.

He watched, a puzzled expression on his face, as you knelt down and started to rummage under the bed “What are you doing, angel?"

“Here it is!” You exclaimed, holding up a casket with bottles of healing cream.

He smiled faintly at your enthusiasm. "I can't believe it was right under the bed this whole time," He said, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

You helped him lay on the bed again, making sure he was comfortable. You opened the small bottle and poured some of its contents into your hand.

“This will help your healing process,” You informed as you opened his shirt better, “But it might hurt… a lot.”

Heeseung gave you a quick nod and you gently put the cream on his wound.

He hissed and gripped the sheet beneath him, trying to breath in as much air as he could as his skin burned.

“Shhh,” You soothed, putting the bottle on the ground and caressing his face “Don't fight it baby, it’ll be alright.”

“This ain’t got nothing on me,” He murmured, trying to be strong for the both of you.

The pain was just like dying another time, his skin was slowly healing, but by doing that his body would suffer.

Heeseung’s eyelids slowly grew heavy until they shut because of the pain.

You stayed with him the whole time, until his body stopped rocking in tremors and his skin stopped sweating cold.

He woke up just a couple of hours later, thanks to his high dark aura, making it easier for the healing cream to work.

His chest had been wrapped in a bandage, now being shirtless, just with his black jeans.

His eyes opened, taking in the light colours of your room. You sat beside him, continuing with your heavenly task, but also willing to stay by his side.

Heeseung groaned lowly, his body feeling heavy and sore from the intense pain he had undergone.

He looked around for you, his eyes landing on your figure sitting beside him.

“Angel.." he muttered, his voice weak and hoarse.

You widened your eyes at hearing his voice and quickly discarded the documents on the bed “Hey,” You whispered, turning toward him.

He could feel the effects of the potion, making his body stronger by the minutes “How long was I out for?” He asked.

“No more than a couple of hours,” You informed him, brushing his bangs away.

He nodded, wincing slightly as he moved to sit up in the bed.

Heeseung looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. "Still doing your work, huh?” He asked, gesturing at the closed documents and pen beside you.

“Angel duties.” You shrugged, giving him a small smile “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing okay,” You replied, sitting upright “The healing potion is working.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for healing me, angel.” He said, the look in his eyes full of love and devotion.

You smiled gently, “I’m glad you came to me.”

He took your hand in his, “Where else would I go, if not to you?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze “You’re my safe haven, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened at his words and something warm spread all over your chest. They then fell onto his lips, they looked so plump and soft. You had the urge to kiss him, but you couldn’t.

It was impossible for angels and demons to kiss due to the curse cast upon them, a curse that would make their lips burn as soon as they met.

He sighed softly, Heeseung knew exactly what you were thinking. He was thinking the same, “What would I give just to taste your lips, even just once.” He murmured.

“Me too,” You frowned. “This is so… unfair.”

He nodded in agreement, "It truly is unfair," He said, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"I wish I could pull you in my arms, hold you close, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. And most of all, I wish I could kiss you, feel the softness of your lips against mine."

You shivered at his words, each one igniting a fire inside of you that could no longer be contained. You needed him and you needed him to need you back.

Still, you joked, trying to lighten the mood “You seem a little too soft for a demon.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I know, I know," He replied, a small smile on his face. “I suppose you bring out the softer side in me, angel.”

You traced your fingers on the bandage you used to cover up his gash, for finally just a small amount of blood had dirtied it “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not anymore.” He gave you a reassuring smile “It’s just a little sore now, nothing I can’t handle.”

Even if his reply was really important, you couldn’t seem to hear it as your eyes settled on his lips.

You moved unconsciously closer to him, and he noticed, licking his lips.

Heeseung held his breath as you leaned closer to him, his heart fluttering in his chest. He could feel the warmth of your skin, the gentle scent of your hair, and the soft touch of your breath against his face.

In a moment of lucidity, you shook your head and moved away. You craved his kiss, but you couldn’t hurt him just because of your selfishness.

“Would it be worth it?” You asked, your voice soft “If we kissed?”

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours. He could see the determination in your eyes, the willingness to ignore the consequences.

“God help me," He muttered, his desire outweighing his caution.

He pulled you closer, his hands on your waist, and gently guided you onto his lap.

“Not the best thing to say in heaven.” You chuckled as you settled on his lap, holding yourself up on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmured, making sure not to add too much pressure on his aching body.

"Well, I'm not exactly welcome in heaven, aren’t I?" Heeseung shook his head slightly, his hands gentle on your waist. "Don't worry about me, angel," he whispered. "I can handle a little pain if it means I can hold you like this."

He moved your hair out of your eyes as you sighed at the contact “You’re so beautiful.” He stated. “You too,” You replied.

“You truly are an angel.” He caressed your cheek, tracing your featured “And you’re mine.”

You smiled back at him, and for a moment he didn’t even look like a demon. He looked like a human boy, holding his lover in his arms and not caring about anything in the world but for you.

And well, the worst part was that you loved him to the extreme as well.

You knew Heeseung was capable of breaking heaven and rule hell if he wanted, but he would never even consider it if it had the chance to hurt you.

He would set the world on fire to keep you warm, crave out his own wings to give them to you.

And you were no better, you thought you’d turn your back on heaven the second someone threatened to hurt him.

“What happens…” You murmured “If heaven or hell take me away from you?” You needed to hear his answer, to hear just how much he cared about you.

The thought of losing you, of heaven or hell separating you, was something he couldn't bear.

He looked into your eyes, his voice low and filled with determination. "I'll burn down heaven and hell themselves before I let them take you away from me," He said fiercely.

Heeseung pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Nothing, not heaven or hell, can keep me from you."

At his words, you moved your face closer to his, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours, the electricity between the two of you.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, his own parting slightly in anticipation. He ached to close the distance, to feel the softness of your mouth against his.

His voice a strained whisper. "Y/N."

“Heeseung,” You whispered back “Please— kiss me, even if it hurts.”

The thought of the pain they would endure paled in comparison to the aching emptiness of not kissing you.

He took a deep breath, his voice a hoarse murmur “Damn it, angel. you'll be the death of me."

“Too bad you’re already dead.” Since he wasn’t closing the distance, you did.

You crashed your lips together in a desperate kiss. But as you braced yourself for the stinging sensation, it didn't come.

You pulled away, a surprised frown forming on your face “W-what?”

Heeseung’s expression mirrored yours, stunned, coating his sharp features.

“Maybe the curse was a lie.” You exclaimed “Maybe—“

“I don’t care.” Heeseung breathed out as he pressed his lips against yours once again.

The only thing he wanted was to focus on the sweet taste of your lips against his, the sound of your moans being swallowed in the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed softly, drowning in the feeling of him.

His usual cold skin was now burning hot, even so the mere contact made you shiver.

“I love you,” He whispered on your lips, “Even if my heart can’t beat, I can feel it within me.”

You could feel his growing desire under you, making your body ache for him, “I can feel it too.” You whispered, taking one of his hands and guiding it to the middle of your chest “The pull.”

“Fuck,” He groaned and kissed you hard again.

“No curse words in heaven.” You murmured on his lips, making him smile.

The kiss was hot and anything but pure lust. “You drive me insane.” Heeseung murmured “Damn it, Y/N. The things I want to do to you.” You knew you shouldn’t feel that way, towards a demon. It was against every rule set in heaven.

But who cared? With every swipe of his tongue against yours, you couldn’t even remember what was your porpoise in there.

Unconsciously, you ground your hips on his, making him groan in your mouth.

One of his hands cradled your head, massaging your scalp and pulling your hair gently.

You hummed, loving the way he was so gentle with you.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, but gasped as you felt the bandage. He was still hurt, you couldn’t do it.

But Heeseung just smiled and held your body against his as he turned you around, so you were the one laying on the bed.

He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off, as well as his underwear.

You looked down at him and lord, if you didn’t need him. He wasn’t huge, but he was long and thick and eveything you ever wished for.

“I need in you so bad angel,” He murmured, prepping kisses down your neck “Can I have you, hm?”

Mindlessly, you nodded. You thought that if he even asked you to give everything up and run away, you’d agree right away.

His hands roamed your body, groping your breast, then down your stomach as he sucked on your skin, leaving reddish marks.

Not even caring about the consequences, your hands tangled in his locks, encouraging him to continue.

In just a matter of seconds, your clothes were forgotten on the floor as he took in the sight of you. So ethereal and so his.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip and leaned in to kiss you once more, “It might hurt.” He informed.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his chest flush to yours “I want the pain. I told you you’re worth it.”

His hips unconsciously bucked at your words, making his forehead press against your shoulder.

Heeseung took his length in his grasp and aligned with your entrance, “If you need me to stop or slow down, tell me.”

You nodded, breathing out a quick reply before he pushed himself in.

You had expected it to hurt, to burn the same way your kiss should’ve. But all you could feel was him and the sweet sensation it sent through your body.

Heeseung groaned, your walls hugging him so tightly. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to go at a slow pace.

“You’re so perfect.” He murmured, kissing your collarbone “You’re just so perfect, I don’t know how you ended up with someone like me.”

You shook your head, wanting to tell him he was wrong but his pace quickened and each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through your body.

“I love you too.” You replied to his previous confession “S’much.”

His hips stilled at your words, his breath hitching. And then, his pace resumed, quickened as he held himself up.

He rested one of your legs on his shoulder and lightly kissed your ankle.

“So good, angel.” Heeseung grunted, the sound of skin slapping filling the heavenly room.

“Ugh!” You exclaimed as he hit a certain spot that made your toe curl “There, Hee, there.”

“Got it.” He chuckled and deepened his thrust, repeatedly hitting that spot, “Found your sweet spot, mh?” He asked, his voice low and husky.

Heeseung looked so perfect, his muscled body on full display, the bandage wrapped around his torso and his bangs sticking to his forehead.

He bit his bottom lip as he tried not to release before you, one of his hands moving down to circle your clit, wanting to bring the both of you to the edge at the same time.

Your body shook in tremors as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

Your back arched as you breathed out his name, needing him to stop and continue at the same time.

“Just a little more, baby.” He snapped his hips faster, letting your ankle go and hovering over you.

Both of your breaths mended, just panting onto each others’ lips as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him hard, teeth clashing.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you reached the edge, your body shaking. Heeseung throbbed at each clench of your pussy around him, emptying his seed inside of you.

His hips slowed, but he didn’t pull out. He intended staying like that for as long as he could.

He laid beside you not to crash you, but not even having the energy anymore to hover your figure.

He wrapped his arms around your body and held you close to your chest, “I don’t ever want to let go.”

“Don’t.” You stated, holding onto him for dear life “Don’t ever let me go.”

“As long as you’ll let me.” He whispered and kissed you again, deeply and slowly. For all the times he had wanted to kiss you but couldn’t because of the nonexistent curse.

Oh, but if only you knew the curse existed, but didn’t work for those who were soulmates in their past lives.

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kateschi · 2 months ago

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after the dust settles

synopsis: after a tiring mission, your husband insists on treating your injuries.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: soft bakugou makes me wanna cry bro i love him

after the chaos of your latest mission, exhaustion hits you like a freight train. every bruise, every cut stings now that the adrenaline has worn off.

you and katsuki stumble into your apartment, both battered but too stubborn to acknowledge just how bad it really is. the silence is thick between you as you try to catch your breath.

without a word, katsuki heads straight for the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinets with the sound of clattering supplies echoing in the background.

before you can even think about patching yourself up, he returns with the first-aid kit and drops it onto the table with a thud.

you’re just about to reach for the antiseptic when katsuki swats your hand away, his scowl as fierce as ever.

"what do you think you’re doing?" his voice has that familiar gruffness, but there’s an edge of concern laced in there if you listen close enough.

“I’m handling it,” you reply, already dabbing at a cut on your arm.

“like hell you are,” he grumbles, snatching the wipe from your hand. "let me do it."

before you can argue, he crouches in front of you, wiping the blood off your skin with surprising gentleness. despite the scowl etched on his face, his touch is careful, almost delicate.

it’s in these quiet moments that you can feel how much he cares—hidden behind his bark and explosive temper.

“you were reckless out there,” he mutters, focusing on cleaning a particularly nasty scrape on your shoulder. “could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

you raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I wasn’t the only one being reckless, katsuki.”

he grunts but doesn’t argue, dabbing at your wound a little harder than necessary, though it’s clear he’s holding back. "I had it handled."

you can’t help but chuckle softly. “sure you did.”

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the intensity softening for just a moment. “you’re always getting yourself into stupid situations.”

you’re about to fire back when you notice the cut above his eyebrow, blood dripping down the side of his face. “look who’s talking. you’re bleeding too.”

katsuki scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine. just stay still so I can finish this.”

but even as he speaks, you catch the way his fingers linger a little longer on your skin, a rare moment of tenderness slipping through the cracks in his usual rough demeanor.

he’s trying to act tough—he always does—but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you that tells you more than his words ever could.

“let me help you now,” you insist, reaching for the first-aid kit once he’s done bandaging your arm.

“I don’t need it,” he snaps, but you’re already gently wiping the blood from his forehead.

“katsuki,” you say quietly, using his full name instead of the usual playful jabs. his eyes widen just a bit at the sound, and for a second, he doesn’t protest.

you’re close enough now to feel his breath hitch ever so slightly as your fingers brush his cheek, and you can see the way his scowl softens, if only for a moment.

you patch him up in silence, your movements careful as you tend to his wounds. he grumbles under his breath, but there’s no real fire behind his words.

when you’re done, you give his cheek a light pat, a teasing smile on your lips. “all patched up. see? not so bad.”

he huffs, leaning back into the couch. "you’re still a pain in the ass."

you chuckle, sinking down beside him, letting the comfortable silence settle in. but then, he surprises you.

“y/n,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual.

you turn to him, the use of your name catching you off guard. he’s still looking straight ahead, his eyes focused on nothing in particular, but there’s a softness in his tone that’s undeniable.

“I’m serious. you need to stop getting hurt like this.”

for a second, you’re speechless. katsuki isn’t the type to say things so openly, and while his words are gruff as always, you can hear the worry threaded between them.

“I’m a pro hero, katsuki,” you say softly. “it’s part of the job.”

he turns to look at you then, his red eyes meeting yours with a rare, intense sincerity. “yeah, well... you’re my wife, too.”

the words hang in the air for a moment, heavy with the weight of everything he’s not saying out loud. and in that moment, you feel the full force of his love—unspoken, but always there.

you smile softly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I know.”

he doesn’t say anything after that, just wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

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gothamite-rambler · 1 month ago

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How the Wayne family handles injuries sometimes

Bruce: My arm feels weird.

Clark: It's broken!

Bruce: Oh is it?

Clark (using x ray vision): I can see the bone snapped in half.

Bruce: Oh, that's why I winced earlier.

Clark: What the hell? Get up, I'm driving you to the hospital.

Bruce: Is the bone snapped in half or out of place?

Clark (sighing): Of course you'd ask that, it's snapped!

Bruce: Hm, I can pay the insurance, sure let's go.

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

Nightwing: Okay, are they gone?

Flash: Yep. If we go around-

Nightwing (exhausted): I'm going to rest on the concrete for a second.

Nightwing fell forward to the ground and moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain.

Flash (horrified): Oh my god!

Nightwing (unfazed): I'm fine... they didn't break my hip too bad... just won't be able to stand for an hour or two. I can, but I cry for like five minutes. Can you carry me?

Flash (smiling): This was in a dream I had.

Nightwing (annoyed): Don't make it weird.

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

Damian: Hello Jon.

Damian waved at Jon, a tiny drop of blood trickling down his arm.

Jon: Hey pal- Your hand is bleeding.

Damian: I got stabbed in the hand during patrol last night. I must've done the stitching wrong.

Jon: You sewed your wound?

Damian: Yes, probably missed a stitch.

Jon: ... Awesome! We should take you to the hospital though.

Damian: I'm under my father's insurance, but we don't have to rush. I'm going to buy us food first.

Jon: Your pain threshold is odd, but again awesome.

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

Tim: Hey, question is the wall over there purple or blue?

Bernard (deadpan): That wall is white.

Tim: I'm going color blind again, freaking Fear Toxin. I'll return in fifteen minutes. Oh and I was in town when Batman and Robin were fighting Scarecrow.

Tim left the apartment, relaxed since this had happened three times at this point.

Bernard (hasn't told Tim he knows he's Robin): I should check what he does but he fixed it last time.

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

Roy: There's an arrow in your arm!

Jason: Ah shit, there is.

Jason yanked it out with ease.

Jason: You can have this.

Roy (staring at the unbroken arrow): How strong... is your pain tolerance?

Jason: I died once so... super strong. I am numb to the pain... sometimes it feels good. Motto of my family.

Roy: Why have I heard... all of you say that?

How the Wayne family handles injuries sometimes pt 2

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dewwinchester · 4 months ago

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stitches | d.w.

synopsis: dean texts you for help, and you drop everything for him.

requested by: @dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy

pairing: pre-series!dean winchester x reader

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: fluff, some angst, john winchester, blood, wounds/injury, stitching up wounds, typical spn series warnings. no use of y/n, no pronouns used!

a/n: if john winchester has no haters, i'm dead <33 also, it's currently 12am, so if the editing is a little wonky, pls forgive me

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as you navigated through the torrential downpour hammering down around you and your car. The rain was relentless, blinding you as it pounded against the windshield. The smell of wet asphalt filled your car as the tires slipped on the rain-soaked road. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears – a mixture of adrenaline from trying to avoid a horrific car wreck and anxiety from the message still illuminating your car in a dim light.

I need your help.

It wasn’t a message you were expecting. Normally, in your line of work, pleas for help came in the form of a frantic phone call or a scream in the dark. They never came in the form of a random text message.

And they never came from Dean Winchester.

You were having a relatively normal night, working a case and staking out a couple of vamps, when your phone buzzed with several messages from Dean. First, he asked if you were busy. Then, he asked if you were nearby. Moments later, he sent you an address to a motel. Then, came the message that caused you to leave the stakeout completely and go frantically speeding down the road.

Your tires screeched as you rounded a corner. The neon light of the motel soon appeared ahead, its reflection dancing across the many puddles on the asphalt. You pulled into the first parking spot you saw and stepped out of your car. The rain immediately soaked you to the bone, wetting your hair and your clothes, sending a chill through you, but you couldn't find yourself caring as your eyes scanned for Dean's room number.

The motel was rather seedy-looking – more so than normal. The wooden palings were splitting, and the paint was chipping off the trimmings and walls. There wasn't any other car in sight. You wondered just how bad things were if Dean had found himself in a place like this.

Once you found his room, you practically ran over to the door and threw it open, not bothering to knock. Your eyes immediately landed on Dean, who sat on the edge of one of the beds, his back to you. A wave of relief washed over you – he was alive – but the sight of his tense shoulders and the untouched beer bottle in his hand kept your anxiety simmering.

You closed the door behind you and took off your saturated jacket, leaving it next to Dean's leather one.

"Hey," you said with a sigh, "You okay?"

Dean responded with a curt nod but said nothing more. You stepped closer to him and placed your hand gently on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, and you felt a pang in your chest. When you finally got close enough, you quickly scanned his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and his normally sharp gaze was clouded with exhaustion. HIs hair was wet and spiky, and his lip trembled from the cold.

Your eyes continued to trail down to his side, where his shirt clung to his skin, dark and wet with blood. Three jagged and deep gashes spread across Dean's side. His shirt was torn.

Your eyes widened as panic once again surged through you. You frantically looked around for anything you could use to stop the bleeding. You grabbed the first towel you could get your hands on and pressed it to his side, grimacing when Dean winced in pain.

"Jesus, Dean. What the hell happened?"

"Werewolf," he gritted out.

"I think you're gonna need stitches."

There was no first aid kit in sight, so your mind began running through alternatives. You could go to the front desk and ask if there were any supplies, but asking for anything more than a simple band-aid would cause suspicion, and the last thing you needed was someone knocking on the door asking too many questions.

You could use dental floss. You had known plenty of hunters that used it in the past and not had a problem, but you weren't sure there were any needles…

"There's a sewing kit in the bathroom."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You read my mind."

“One of my many talents.”

----

Needle, thread, dental floss, tissues, water. You looked over the supplies in front of you, mind racing at a million miles an hour. Despite being a hunter yourself, you weren’t exactly a natural when it came to stitching wounds and performing first aid. In fact, the sight of too much blood caused your head to throb and your legs to go numb.

Dean had already taken off his shirt, leaving you to see the full extent of his injuries. The gashes started at the top of his ribs and curled around to his left shoulder blade. Blood continued to trail down his back, causing your mouth to go dry. Pins and needles tingled your toes, and the room began to spin…

You shook off your thoughts and shifted your weight between your two feet, hoping to get some blood flow back there. You put your thoughts and discomfort behind you and prepared to begin.

“This isn’t gonna feel great,” you said, trying to control the shake in your voice.

“Not my first time,” he replied.

You grabbed the needle and thread, and – with shaky hands – tried your best to thread the cotton through the eye. You sat behind him, deciding to start around his shoulder. With a damp cloth, you tried your best to clean around the area, whispering apologies whenever Dean flinched.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, using your gentlest touch to guide the needle through.

“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth, “werewolf.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” you trailed off. “Where’s your dad?”

Dean clenched his jaw, and you immediately knew you had touched on a rough subject. Throughout the time that you had known Dean, you had learnt his relationship with his father was far from healthy. John Winchester was not your favourite person in the world. In fact, you and Dean had gotten into plenty of arguments about him in the past.

“He’s not here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, continuing your stitching. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Do we have to do this–?”

“--Yes.”

Dean sighed, scrubbing his hand down his face. The anger and tension radiating off him was palpable, his shoulders were tense and his breathing was heavy. You finished stitching the first gash, and tied the thread off with a neat little knot. Instead of immediately moving on to the next one, you moved around and knelt in front of Dean so you were eye level. You placed a hand on his right knee and traced gentle circles into his skin with your thumb. You raised your eyebrows, sending him a look that was simultaneously stern and empathetic.

You just wanted to know he was okay.

“We’d been stakin’ out the thing for weeks,” Dean began. “We finally pinpointed it to this boathouse. Dad was sure that it was in there, so he sent me in first to sweep the area.”

“And…?”

“Turns out it was a lot smarter than we thought,” Dean said, a dejected smile on his lips. “It was waitin’ there for us. Dad knew, but I didn’t.”

“Then why did he send you in there?”

Dean shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. But the thing had me on the ground before I even realized what was goin’ on. Put it’s claws in me and ran.”

You shuddered.

“Dad didn’t stay,” Dean continued. “The second he realised it jumped ship, he went too. Left me with my phone and wallet… I walked here.”

“What?”

If Dean’s anger was palpable, you were damn-near irate. You pressed your lips together, trying to control yourself from spewing all sorts of profanities. If you had it your way, you would have marched your way up to John Winchester and given him what for. You would have knocked his lights out if Dean had let you.

You stood and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

"He – you? God!"

"Alright hot-head, calm down."

"No, I will not calm down!" You spun on your heel, turning to face him again. "Your own father left you for dead!"

"He's done worse."

You laughed bitterly. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Alright," Dean sighed, raising a hand to stop your tirade. "I'm okay! I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Oh yeah, you're the pinnacle of okay."

"Your sarcasm isn't helping."

You shook your head. Angry tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them fall.

"I just wish you would understand that you deserve better," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You could leave his ass behind any time you like -"

"Oh yeah? And then what?"

You paused, and looked down to your feet.

"You could come with me?"

For half a second, Dean smiled. “You and I would kill each other in half an hour.”

He was right – but you’d never let him admit it.

“Why’d you text me then?” You asked. “If we’re just gonna kill one another–”

Dean shot you a pointed look.

“– I’m serious.” You said.

Dean stood up with a groan and walked over to you. You stood with your arms crossed, a slight frown creasing your brow. Nothing could be heard but the rain that battered against the windows and the thundering of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Dean tucked a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, “You’re the first one I thought of… The only one I wanted here.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks and you shook your head fondly. “You’re fantastic at changing the subject.”

Dean winked, but his smooth-talking was soon replaced by a painful scowl.

“Let’s finish this up later, shall we? I’d rather not bleed to death.”

You helped Dean back to the bed and prepared to finish stitching him up. You knew this was far from over – with Dean, it never was – but for now, you would focus on the rain that pattered against the roof and the relief that Dean was with you, safe.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader fluff #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean fluff #dean fic #supernatural fic #*my writing

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rainrot4me · 4 months ago

Text

Just Relax

Summary: You’re stressed. Jack knows how to fix that.

Characters: Eyeless Jack x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: First time, stress relief, using orgasms as a way to relieve stress, teaching, inexperience, virgin, cunnilingus, blowjob, bad blowjob, grinding, tip fucking, vaginal, kinda creampie, Jack's a gentle giant, service top, claws, mentions of blood, mentions of gunshots, bullet wounds (not smut related), injury

Words: 5.8k

Being the only other medically intelligent resident in the mansion intensified your job.

Slender partnered you with Jack, the tall brooding organ-eating demon that spent most of his time either in his medical lab in the basement or face-deep in someone’s intestines. It was charming, really.

Your jobs were to patch up the proxies and keep them running, their missions being insanely more dangerous than the average creep and constantly landing them on Jack’s workbench. You were tasked with helping the demon: holding wounds closed, getting his supplies, or even rounding some innocent bystander up for his dinner. You were always on the move, always completing some requests. And it was seriously taking a toll.

You were becoming restless, your body always aching and your mind never quiet from the constant stress you faced. You tried to hide it, but as the bags under your eyes grew from the lack of good sleep, it became harder to put on a good face. Especially around the demon who ordered your every move.

So when Jack occasionally got restless and left you in his lab to go hunt, you usually would spend the time tidying up or catching a quick nap. But when a bloodied Tim stumbled down the basement steps and through the door, heaving from exhaustion, you panicked.

The tall brunette stumbled into your arms, coughing loudly as you tugged him to the medical table and laid him down, his jacket dark with blood and dirt. He had been shot, twice in the gut, it looked like. You grit your teeth, tugging his jacket and shirt off as you carefully watch his face, his eyes already beginning to flutter shut. Shit. Where the hell was Jack?! It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do, it was just that Jack was more familiar with these things. You were just an assistant. But you had no choice, curse the demon and his greedy tongue.

You pulled the medical tray towards you, the metal pan littered with different tools you were familiar with. You grabbed a cloth, dousing it with sterile alcohol and wiping Tim’s gut, forcing his chest down as he hissed against the sting. You had to be quick, there was no telling how long the poor guy was hauling himself here and bleeding out quickly. After cleaning his skin, more blood gushed, but you were finally able to tell where the entrance holes were. “Just hold on.” You grit, grabbing the long tweezers from the tray and focusing, pressing your arm against Tim’s chest as you slowly sink the cold prongs into the wound. The large man cried out, fists clenching the soft padding of the table as you prodded for the bullet, pushing deeper until you felt an abnormality lodged deep into his skin. You were way too shaky for this, your unsteady hands likely to tear his wound further as you pinched the small bullet and unlodged it from his gut. You needed Jack, now.

And like a god-sent, you heard loud boots stomping down the wooden stairs, a tall figure emerging through the open door as you dropped the bloody bullet onto the tray. “[Y/N]? What’s all this blood- oh shit.” Jack’s monotone voice muffled behind his mask, his head instantly snapping to you as you turned to him, panicked and hands covered in Tim’s blood.

The demon was quick, grabbing the tweezers from your hand and pressing over the bleeding man, doing a much better job of retrieving the second bullet as you slid to his side, offering your help as always. He popped the tiny metal onto the tray, quickly grabbing disinfectant and eyeing you as he returned to the bloody scene, trying his best not to apologize right now.

Before you knew it Tim was back upstairs asleep in his bed, his torso wrapped in clean bandages and veins full of liquid painkillers. The procedure went by quickly after Jack arrived, making quick work of getting the man cleaned up after his latest mission. You sat at Jack’s desk, face hidden in your hands as you finally caught your breath, fingers still stained with his blood. The demon leaned awkwardly against the edge of the table, mask long discarded on the now clean table now that you were in the privacy of each other. Jack had stopped using his mask around you long ago when he realized you would be together every day, pushing past his instincts and accepting your presence wholeheartedly. He appreciated the help more than you knew.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched you, palms rubbing your tired eyes as you looked up, but not at him. “It’s fine.” You wanted to accept his apology, but your angry sleep-deprived brain wouldn’t let you, a snarky response being all that you could offer. Jack could hear your irritation, cringing to himself as crossed his arms, looking down to the floor. “Like, seriously. That was completely me. I sho-”

“I said it’s fine, Jack.” You cut him off, huffing as you pushed off the desk and began picking up random trash around the lab. You refused to look at him as you tried to occupy yourself, begging your angry tongue not to attack him further. But Jack, being himself, pushed further, begging for your forgiveness. “But it’s not. I mean, how can I make it up to you?” He pushed, circling in front of you and reaching for your shoulders, the demon easily towering over you as you strained your neck to look up at him. “You can’t, okay?” You snarled, pushing off of him and tossing random syringe packets into the trash, slipping away from him. You were fuming, unreasonably, but you couldn’t help it as you breathed quickly, face growing hot. You were becoming overstimulated, your hair pressing too close against your neck, this room suddenly becoming way too cramped, and your head just hurting, begging for you to just lay down.

Jack crossed his arms, sitting back against the medical table as he watched you stomp around, his knee tapping worriedly. “But-” Just hearing his voice was beginning to make you mad, his need to apologize becoming so whiney in your mind. “Listen, Jack. I don’t fuckin’ need your sorry, okay? What I need is to be left alone. I’m stressed out of my mind, alright?” You snapped, shoulders tense and hands flinging with every word. Jack just watched quietly, his dark sockets staring blankly at your red face. He knew you were stressed, how could he not? But he also knew this was the result of days of suppressing that stress, refusing to acknowledge just how overwhelmed you were until you got to this point, your words moving faster than your mind could stop. He didn’t take it to heart, it was all emotional and he knew that. But what he did do was push further, despite your anger.

“Then why don’t you rest? Like, take the day off or just take a minute. I don’t know, have a shot or something.” You leaned back against Jack’s desk, rubbing your face as you groaned, your head pounding. “You don’t think I’ve tried? Can’t catch a wink of sleep because my mind won’t just stop. I’ve been on a high drive all week.” You whined, tears pricking your eyes as the demon watched you, brows knitting as you wiped your eyelids. He thought quietly, sockets studying you annoyingly as you wiped your hair from your face, irritation growing when he wouldn’t look away.

“Have you tried masturbating?” For a second, you really couldn’t tell if your ears were working right, convinced you were still in shock as you glared at him. What the fuck kind of question was that? Thinking he was joking, you laughed dryly, rolling your eyes. “Very funny, Jack.” But he wasn’t laughing, his face dead serious as he arched a brow expectantly. That’s when your face grew hot, cheeks growing a darker tint until you forced yourself to look away, avoiding his piercing gaze. You screwed your eyes shut, embarrassed. You hadn’t, but you felt like he had already come to that conclusion as he pushed off of the table, stepping closer to you and making your breath hitch. He tilted his head, arms crossed tightly as he strained the answer out of you.

“No, okay? I don’t have time for that shit. And besides, I wouldn’t even know how.” Such trivial things had never crossed your list of wants when you were working under Slender. You had more important things to worry about like completing missions or saving someone’s life. Touching yourself hadn’t really crossed your mind.

Jack scoffed, his hands uncurling to rest against his hips. “What? You mean like, you don’t know how to jerk off?” It was embarrassing when the demon said it out loud, your eyes screwing shut and cheeks hot before him. But he only stepped closer, his tall stature suffocating you. You shook your head, refusing to look up. “Why would I need to? I’m not some dog in heat.”

That one struck harder than you meant for it to. You were all too familiar with Jack’s seasonal heat cycles, his demon instincts overriding his thoughts a couple of times a year and driving him to seclusion for a week or so. Those were the times you hated the most when he wasn’t around, wasn’t there to guide you during a procedure or appreciate your efforts. So when you looked up at him, fearful that he was going to go off on you for your careless insult, you were surprised to see his face so calm.

“Yeah, you need to jerk off.” He smiled, a little teasing in his voice as you scowled. “Listen, orgasms are good for relieving stress. So, if you’re going to keep working, you either need to learn how, or let me help you.” His words felt like a joke, but his face was so sincere you had to readjust, your stomach tightening with butterflies. He couldn’t be serious, help you?

But as his gray-blue claws rested on his hips, head tilted to stare at you below him, you couldn’t help but squirm. He was looming closer, his jagged smile teasing but earnest as your face became hot. This was embarrassing, letting practically your boss coerce you into letting him get you off. You wanted to say no, to fight him off and persevere by yourself. But when the flutters in your stomach turned to throbbing between your thighs, you groaned, giving up.

“Fine. But… I don’t know what I’m doing. Like, I’ve never done anything like this before.” You mumbled, pushing off the wall and standing inches from him, straining your neck to look at his toothy grin. “It’s okay, pet. I’ll be gentle.”

Pressing his claw behind your back, he guided you to the medical table, pushing you to the end. You panicked slightly when he scooped under your armpits and picked you up easily, setting you on the edge so you were level with his chest. You wanted to stop, the sudden closeness making you overwhelmed, but when his claws rested on your hips, you tensed. “Relax.” He cooed, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. You were speechless.

Your friendship with Jack was close, and your mutual understanding of how difficult both of your lives were plus the forced proximity made it easier to become quick friends. But as his warm lips pressed down your jaw to your neck so comfortably, you questioned everything you thought you knew about the two of you. He was eager, but soft, nipping against your skin as you tilted your neck, gasping softly as goosebumps ran over you. He was nudged between your legs, his short hair tickling your ear as his claws gripped you tight, holding your hips down. You couldn’t help but rest your hands on his shoulders, pushing back slightly as he moved to the other side of your neck, little red spots appearing everywhere he nipped with his fangs.

“Jack…” He smiled, letting off your neck and pecking your cheek again, leaning back to look at you. Your face was hot, cheeks dark and flustered, but he thought you looked cute. You, however, had your thoughts running a mile a minute, confused but oh so excited as his claws slipped under the hem of your shirt. Jack could smell your arousal and it made him hungry, so rarely, for something other than guts.

“Shh, lean back.” He hummed, slipping your shirt up and off your head and making you whine. Placing your hands behind you, you leaned back, stunned when he slipped his nails into your shorts and tugged them down your thighs, purring at the sight of your panties. You couldn’t believe he was actually serious, slipping the fabric off your ankles and tossing them to the ground, hands quick to reach your hips again. You placed your hands on his chest, holding him back from attacking your neck again. “You don't have to do this. I’ll be fine.” You grit, eyes nervously flickering between his face and his crotch pressed so closely between your legs. He just smiled, rubbing your waist. “This is for you. If you’re going to keep working, I need you in good condition. Just relax, pet.” He cooed, pushing back against your chest so you lay on the padded table, feet dangling. You were practically vibrating, unsure of exactly how to lay or move so you just gripped the leather awkwardly, watching the demon run his claws over your thighs.

“I need you to talk to me. Don’t let me overwhelm you.” He said sternly, hooking under your panties and tugging them down, your legs instinctively clutching together. “Too late.” You whined, pushing your hands down to cover yourself as you breathed heavily. Jack only chuckled, gripping your wrists gently and pulling them to your sides as he kneeled. You watched him nervously, his face now even with your closed thighs as he pushed your knees apart, checking your expressions. The demon knew you needed this, knew you were excited. He just needed to show you to let go.

Spreading your legs despite your protests, Jack scooped his arms under your thighs, tugging you closer to him until he was inches from your pretty cunt. He breathed deep, sighing at the sweet scent of your excitement that coaxed him closer. His dark sockets never moved from your panicked face, sitting up slightly as you watched his lips smile, your eyes wide. This was insane. But before another desperate attempt to get him to rethink this left your lips, one of Jack’s dark, long tongues licked a thick stripe between your folds. Your back hits the leather immediately, a shaken gasp slipping through as you tense your thighs closer. Jack’s strong arms held them apart just fine, chuckling to himself as he watched your pupils blow wide. His tongue was so warm and slick, his thick saliva running through your lips and making you shudder. “Jack-”

He was already back again, long tongue running flat up your cunt and flicking on your clit. Your gasp was ragged, fingernails digging into the padding underneath as you craned your neck to see the demon. Jack was staring at you, the corners of his open mouth twitched up to a smile as he flicked the tip of his tongue against your already twitching clit. The feeling was so unfamiliar, so odd but so heavenly. He seemed so skilled, so eager to tug the little sounds out of you as he dove deeper, your bottom lip slipping into your teeth.

“You alright, pet?” He mumbled, tongue quick to lick a thick stripe between your folds again, pressing a soft kiss against your soaked lips and giving you a moment to breathe. His claws were kneading the softness of your thighs, his thumb rubbing against your burning skin. Were you alright? Your breathing was heavy, quick and sharp as you stared at him, cheeks hot and flushed. You were nervous, your body unsure of what it was even feeling, but you knew you needed more. More of whatever his delicious tongue was offering.

So, you nodded, leaning back but keeping your head up, watching nervously as he kissed your inner thighs softly. He smiled again, kissing his way back down to your folds and sliding his tongue out again, spreading the lips around his warm tongue. You groaned, biting your lip as you tried to contain the noises that dared to get louder, unaware that you could even make sure vulgar sounds. Jack was back to flicking against your clit again, eyelids heavy as he relished in the way you fought yourself. You were so desperate to contain what he knew you needed to let out, so he slid deeper, his long tongue slipping against your tight entrance.

You panicked slightly, stomach clenching when you felt him press against your hole. He didn’t move, eyes trained as you gripped the leather, your face hot and heavy. Your thighs threatened to close, Jack’s claws digging slightly to keep them apart but not pulling farther. Your clit was throbbing, aching from the loss of the demon’s tongue but alive with the new sensation. He blinked at you, reading every expression as he dared further, the tip of his thick tongue slipping inside of your cunt. At the sensation, you didn’t expect your hips to jerk, legs tensing as he pressed inside, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Jack held you close, your tight entrance accepting the warm intrusion as you clenched and throbbed. It was so unfamiliar, but so warm, so filling.

The further his tongue pressed in the faster your hands slid down to run through his brown hair. You gripped tight, tugging lightly as his lips pressed flush against your folds, his eyelids fluttering shut as he soaked in your warmth. You tasted heavenly, your arousal thick around his tongue as he breathed deep, letting you adjust. His tongue contoured easily through your cunt, rubbing gently against your gummy walls until your hips were squirming, begging for movement. You couldn’t even explain your movements, your body taking control and guiding itself against him. But when Jack’s thick tongue eventually curled against your warmth, lapping at your ecstasy, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Jack!” It came out ragged, like you were gasping for air that was being stolen with every curl. You tugged against the demon’s hair, his groans vibrating against your cunt and making you whine louder. It was too much. The unfamiliar stretch, the warmth, and even his noises were making you lose yourself. “Ahn- Oh my… Oh my God-” You moaned loudly, your resistance thinning with every pull of his long tongue. Your body twitched against him, your hips stuttering and grinding uncontrollably. His thumb still brushed against your thigh, that one constant keeping you aware the deeper he probed his tongue. Your back arched off the table, unsure if you were trying to pull away from him or angle him deeper, but he moved with you.

The wet schlick of his tongue tugging in and out of your tight cunt made you groan, eyes screwed shut. You were so overwhelmed, but Jack was quick to read you, quick to adjust his speed the louder you got and bring you back down to a comfortable pace. Your lightheadedness appreciated that, your cunt slick and gummy as your arousal built, his lips becoming soaked. But Jack was in heaven. You tasted so good, so unexplainably good that he couldn’t dare remove his tongue. Your arousal was so sweet, but so sour in his mouth, his groans vibrating against your cunt. But it was pooling now, building heavily. He knew you were close, so he curled harder.

“Jack, I- Ah! I think I’m gonna- gonna cum…” You mewled, his grinding down against his mouth as you tugged his hair closer, pressing his head deeper between your thighs. You were so sweaty, so hot and overwhelmed, but you couldn’t stop. There was a thick knot in your abdomen, your arousal peaking louder. Jack grumbled, nodding his head lazily as his eyelids tightened, focused on reaching deeper and tasting more of you until your body couldn’t resist anymore.

You came hard. It was such an unfamiliar sensation, your entire body wracking and tensing itself, a sharp moan crying from your lips. You leaned forward, Jack quick to adjust and pull your hips up so he could drink up every inch of you that spilt onto his tongue nestled so deeply inside of you. You were crying out, your fingers gripping his hair so tightly you were afraid you’d rip it from his scalp, but Jack could only moan. “Fuck- Fuck!” Your thighs were shaking, the demon’s large claws gripping tighter so he could relish in the feeling of his tongue being squeezed by your throbbing cunt as you rode out your orgasm. Your breathing was loud, your cheeks hot as you panted and strained against the tongue still nestled inside. You waited for him to slip out, but he never did, his tongue still prodding against your soaked walls.

The demon’s eyelids eventually opened, his cheeks dark as he held you close, his lips swollen against your folds. You were so stunning, every inch of your burning skin glowing under your ecstasy as he slipped another tongue out of his mouth. It slid against your folds, just as thick and long as the first one but finding a new direction as you whined loudly. He wasn’t done with you yet, he couldn’t be, not when your body called to him so desperately. So his second tongue flicked against your clit the same way he did before, pitching the tiny cries and whines out of you he loved to hear. You were quick to react, your body still sensitive but desperate to chase that high again as you jerked against his tongue, hips stuttering even harder. Jack didn’t go too fast, pressing just hard enough and just quick enough to make your arousal build up, but watching you closely to make sure he didn’t press your sensitive body too far. He was careful, diligent with his every flick and curl. You were falling apart all over again.

“Jack, I’m- I can’t again-” You whined, legs heavy on his arms as he groaned, hugging them close to his head. The demon dug his knees into the ground, his cock pressing hard against his jeans but he ignored it, focused only on you and making you spill on his tongue again. “Yesh, yu can…” He lulled against your cunt, eyelids fluttering with every slick of his tongues. You wanted to resist, wanted to fight back against him, but he had pulled every ounce of your fight out. Jack was pushing you into some headspace you had never experienced before, your mind running on fumes and ecstasy. So you just let go.

It was no time before you were cumming again, your orgasm much quicker than the last. Jack didn’t hold your thighs apart this time, he slid his claws up your waist, letting your plush legs wrap around his head and squeeze tightly as he groaned. The demon was slowly cracking under you, his mind running rampant as he drank down more of your sweet arousal, pushing off of his knees and to his feet until your hips were completely off the table. Your shoulder blades pressed back against the padding, your loud moans echoing in his ears and making him grin. Your cunt was wrecked, sopping wet and swollen as his tongues finally slid back, tugging out of your stretched cunt and back into his mouth. You watched through heavy lids, sweat sticking to your forehead and making you feel all hot and exhausted.

But Jack was lost in your body, eyelids heavy over his sockets as he leaned over you, pressing wet kisses against your stomach and back up to your chest. You were heaving, goosebumps rushing along your warm skin as the demon reached under your back and unclipped your bra, sliding it off of your shoulders. “So pretty…” He mumbled, kissing along the skin around your nipples until you were hissing. He peered up at your red face, grinning as he slid his arms around your waist and tugged you up to his chest, pressing you close to him. “Did so good, huh? Don’t you feel better?” He cooed, rubbing your back with his nails gently, leaving goosebumps against your skin.

You did feel better. In fact, you didn’t feel anything but good. Your mind was blank, only the cool leather under your soaked cunt making you twitch, pleasure still coursing through your muscles. Jack was nestled between your legs, chin tucked over your head as he smiled, breathing in how amazing you smelt under him. But this close, you could feel his boner pressed tightly against your thigh, the large bulge making your eyes widen. The demon had done so much for you, it was only right you do something in return.

You slid your hand down between you, cupping his bulge and rubbing gently until Jack was groaning. You tried to unbutton his jeans, but he was quick to lean back, gripping your wrists. “There’s no need for that. You need to rest.” He grinned, pressing your hands back to your sides gently. You pouted, straining against his arms to reach back again. “You helped me. Now let me help you… Even if it won’t be very good, I can still try.” You peered up at him, eyes wide and pleading as you felt some sense of need wash over you. Jack watched you carefully, contemplating with himself before sighing and rubbing his neck. “Okay. But do not push yourself.” He warned, letting go of your wrists and helping you slide off the table.

The demon grunted when your hands found his bulge again, your heart pounding in your chest as you unbuttoned his jeans nervously. You had no fucking clue what you were doing, but you pushed his jeans back anyways, his boxers doing little to hide his girth. Jack’s claws rubbed your shoulder gently as you tugged his boxers down, gasping when his length bobbed out. He was… huge. You had never really seen a dick before, but you knew Jack was above average. The demon towered above you anyway, so it only made sense that his length would carry through. But even still, it was hard to focus as you watched the girth twitch in the air. Jack’s claw gripped your shoulder tighter now, watching you carefully.

Taking a deep breath, you kneeled, the demon taken back but quick to adjust. Your wide eyes flicked nervously between his face and the cock in front of you, hands nervously gripping his thighs as you pressed closer. Jack was nervous himself, studying your every move. Licking your lips, you pressed a kiss against the tip, shocked by how warm the flesh was as you lifted your hand to grip the base. Jack sighed, fisting his hands at his sides. You licked your lips again, the salty taste making you press further. You flattened your tongue, licking the head and slowly pumping the length in your hand, unsure if you were even doing this right. But when the demon groaned, pressing his hips closer, your stomach fluttered.

There was no way you were fitting that in your mouth. So instead you tugged his cock to the side, pressing your lips against the side and sucking gently, jerking your hand slowly. You mouthed against the base, slipping licks up the length until Jack’s claws were resting against your head, rubbing gently and gritting his fangs. It wasn’t good and you knew that, but Jack didn’t care, all he knew was that you were trying and that was all that mattered to him. “Yeah, doing so good pet… Keep moving your hand just like that…” The demon cooed, running his thumb against your cheek. Your stomach fluttered wildly, your mouth sliding to the tip and sucking at his slit. You could taste the bitterness as you run your tongue against the head, Jack's arousal pushing through his gritted teeth. “Fuck…”

You dared, pushing your jaw open and flattening your tongue as you took the tip inside. You tried to press further, but your throat constricting as you gagged pushing you back, tears pricking your eyes. “Ah, careful-” Jack hissed, pressing his hands against your cheeks and pushing you back, but you resisted. You took the head in your mouth again, tongue swirling as your screwed your eyes shut, pumping your hand along the rest of the length. The demon groaned, hands still pressing against your cheeks gently as he begged you to take it slow. His skin was hot, cock twitching in your mouth every time you sucked. “Easy, pet… Yeah, just like that…” He groaned, brushing the hair off of your forehead and admiring your flushed face. You tried to press further, but you would gag and force yourself back, head bobbing as far as you could go before slobber pooled on your lips. You pumped his length quickly, making up for the rest of the length you couldn’t get. Jack was vibrating under your mouth, claws gripping desperately in your hair and brushing the tears from your eyes. “Shit, [Y/N]...” Your jaw was becoming sore, but you pushed, begging your throat to take him.

Until Jack gripped your chin, tugging it down and pulling you off of his tip. You whined, pushing back against his hands but he was already pushing you to the floor, back pressed down against the cold concrete of the basement. Jack kneeled between your legs, spreading them wide as he tugged off his shirt, tossing it to the side. “You did so good, pet… So good… Let me…” He hissed, pumping his cock in his claws and pushing your knees apart. Your eyes widened, heart pounding underneath his hungry gaze. “Jack- I don’t know if I-” But he was already rubbing your thigh gently, pulling your hips to meet his. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He cooed, breathing heavily above you.

Jack pressed his cock down, angling your hips up against his thighs so your cunt laid flat in front of him, your hands gripping onto his knees. Your heart was pounding, eyes flicking nervously as you watched Jack press his cock down, sliding his wet length through your soaked folds and groaning loudly. His tip nudged against your clit, your hips jerking as you gasped, digging your nails into his jeans. “Feels good, yeah?” He purred, slowly grinding his cock down against your cunt, pressing his thumb against the length to keep himself between your folds. You were whining, pressing your hips up to grind against his length as he ground down into you. His tip nudged against your clit with every thrust, the nub twitching against the contact and making your abdomen tighten. “Just like that, Jack…” You whined, his left hand clamping around your hip and pulling you close to him, rubbing the skin gently.

The demon didn’t thrust fast, more concerned with pushing those beautiful moans from your lips rather than speeding you through an orgasm. He thought the buildup was better anyway. “I can feel your cunt clenching underneath me…” He mewled, pushing his head down with his thumb to grind against your clit, making you hiss. Jack could smell you even heavier now. Two orgasms deep you smelled even more delicious, your heart thudding in his ears as you stared at him through heavy, tired eyes.

That was all it took for him. Jack pressed forward, hands gripping to your waist and leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. Future consequences be fucked, all he cared about was how amazing you looked and felt gripping onto his shoulders as he ground down into you. You were crying out, hips thrusting up to meet his cock, your folds sliding around his girth and clit throbbing so perfectly. “I want you to cum against me, pet… Let me feel you fall apart under me…” Jack smiled, pressing his lips against your cheek and licking the sweat off your face. You moaned deeply, nails digging into his shoulders as you arched your hips up, angling just right.

Jack moaned out, claws sharp against your skin as the tip of his cock slipped into your entrance, the tight hole stretching around him snugly. “Do it- Do it inside, then…” You gasped, pushing past the sting of your cunt stretching around his head and grinding your hips up, your orgasm nipping at your abdomen. Jack hissed, his hips thrusting down shallowly and popping his tip in and out, stretching you just right. “So perfect… Cum on my cock then, pet… I’ve got you…” He grinned, sweat dripping off his nose as he nestled into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as he fucked you open.

The tip of his cock pushing just right against the entrance of your walls made you cry out, cunt clenching down tightly around his head before you were cumming around him. Jack growled, breathing deeply as he stalled his hips, his cock twitching against the sudden tightness, pushing him over. His warm seed spilt into your cunt, his cock pulsing as he leaned back and jerked himself off quickly, keeping the tip inside of you as he gripped your waist tight. “Such a good pet… Took me so well, yeah? Taking all my cum like a good girl…” He smiled, giving his hips one last jerk as pushing his tip deep into your entrance for good measure before pulling out. You huffed, cunt throbbing and pulsing as he pulled out, the demon’s warm seed quick to spill out of your entrance and down your cunt, seeping onto your skin. Jack couldn’t help but growl, pressing kisses along your hot skin as you caught your breath, clinging to the large demon.

When you eventually settled down, eyes heavy and head light, Jack scooped you up, leaning your head against his shoulder. He carried you through the mansion quickly, lucking no prying eyes around to see him carry you to his room and shut the door quickly. He cleaned you up, careful to be gentle against your sensitive folds as he ran a warm rag against you, your tired body clinging to him. “Just relax…” Jack smiled, pulling his sheets back and laying you down, quick to slip beside you and press his warm body against your side, scooping you against him. Your head was so light, your body so heavy and tired against him that you couldn’t resist. You were quick asleep, light snores making Jack chuckle as he breathed your scent deep, pressing his nose against your head and letting his own eyes shut.

Needless to say, you had never slept so well.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

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lqvesoph · 7 months ago

Text

Kingsday || LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: when celebrating kingsday with your boyfriend lando ends with a small injury, and a call from his boss

masterlist

Your boyfriend being friends with a dutch DJ, meant one thing: party, party and party. Especially on Kingsday, a day where the dutch people celebrated the King‘s birthday, or got drunk on random boats driving down the channel of Amsterdam.

You had arrived about two hours ago. Lando immediately joined Martin at the DJ desk whereas you went to get some drinks for the two of you.

Now two hours later, Lando was still with Martin, or so you hoped because you actually haven’t seen him in over 30 minutes.

"Y/n!! Y/n come here!", a voice that you recognized as Martin called. You whisked around to find the dutchman waving frantically.

You frowned and excused yourself from your conversation before making your way through the mass of people. "What’s wrong?", you shouted. "It’s Lando, come!", Martin yelled and reached a hand out for you to take.

You gladly accepted his help to guide you through the people and to your boyfriend. And lord, you almost dropped your glass when you saw Lando.

"Baby!", a drunken smile graced his face. But that wasn’t the only thing. Before there were glasses and a ribbon in the dutch colours but now there was a white bandage wrapped around his head.

"Lando, what the hell happened??", you called, hastily placing your glass on a table and rushing to your boyfriend.

"I’m so happy you’re here", he slurred, placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you into a messy kiss. You returned the kiss for a second before pulling back, holding him upright and steady.

"Baby, can you explain what happened?", you tried to again, pushing back his curls. "There were SO many people", he giggled and you tried your best to stay calm and let him finish talking. "And then I tripped and then there was an elbow and glass and suddenly ow…", his face dropped towards the end and his fingers reached up to his nose.

You held his hand back. "Don’t touch, let me see", you muttered and removed the very badly done bandage. You held his chin to move his head to the sides to get a good look at his bloody nose.

"Does it hurt?", you asked, carefully touching the brink of his nose. "Nope!", Lando grinned proudly, making you roll your eyes. "Of course not, you’re drunk", you mumbled.

"Martin, can you get my bag please? It’s with Lando’s jacket behind the DJ pult", you explained to Lando’s friend who nodded immediately and went to grab your bag.

When Martin came back you pulled tissue and sanitizer out of the black bag and cleaned up the blood around Lando’s nose. "Are you like a professional?", a guy asked, nodding at the things in your hand and your firm grip on Lando’s chin. "Almost", you chuckled. "I’m studying medicine."

"Yeah, she’s gonna be a doctor!", Lando called proudly. "Shh", you firmly said snd squeezed his chin. "It doesn’t look broken, maybe bruised but you‘ll be fine", you delivered the verdict. "You‘re the best, thank you. I love you", Lando mumbled, leaning forward to connect your lips again. A few "Aww"s were heard around you which made you smile just as Lando‘s phone started ringing.

The boy fumbled it out of his pocket, only to find his boss‘ name on the display. "Oh oh, that means trouble", Martin muttered. Seeing as you weren’t as drunk as the rest of the people around you, your reaction times were way faster. And so you reached forward to grab Lando‘s phone out of his hands to answer the call yourself.

"Lando Norris, what on earth are-", Zak‘s voice roared through the speakers. "Zak, hi, it’s me Y/n", you quickly interrupted the American who abruptly stopped talking.

"Y/n? I didn’t know you are with Lando", he sounded surprised.

"Martin invited us over-" "There’s a picture of Lando bleeding and with a bandage circulating around the internet, care to explain the situation?", Zak interrupted you, getting straight to the point.

"I wasn’t with him when it happened but according to him and various people around him, he tripped and cut his nose. Martin got me soon after and I already took a look at his nose and he‘s okay. A bit bruised, going to cause a bit of pain when putting a helmet on but he‘ll be fine. Nothing‘s broken or anything like that", you broke down the whole story to Lando‘s boss while pushing your fingers through Lando‘s curls.

He let out a sigh and you could imagine him sitting in his office chair, rubbing the side of his head. "Okay, can I talk to him for a second?", Zak said and you nodded, leaning down to Lando and handing him the phone.

"He wants to talk to you", you muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "Hiii", Lando called excitedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut with a chuckle. "Noo, I swear I‘m okay even better than okay!", he assured his boss. "Zak, I‘m fineee! Y/n is taking care of me."

"Hey Zak, did you know that dutch people-", you pulled the phone back from his ear before he could spill some stupid shit. "I‘ll get him back home in one piece, I promise", you said, ruffling his curls. "Thank you, Y/n", Zak replied before saying goodbye.

You took a deep breath and put Lando‘s phone in your back pocket. The Brit leaned his head against your stomach and closed his eyes with a content drunk smile.

"You okay?", you whispered with a smile and tapped the back of his head a few times. Lando nodded against your stomach and then looked up at you, pouting his lips to let you know he wanted a kiss. You smirked and leaned down to connect your lips.

"Okay let’s get back!", he called enthusiastically and got up, swaying a little when he stood. You wrapped an arm around his waist, doing your best to steady him. Lando naturally put his around your shoulders.

"Let‘s get you a glass of water and then we can go back, alright?", you compromised with him and dragged him over to the bar, telling the guy to hand you a glass of water.

You thanked him and turned your body to Lando, holding the cup close to his mouth. "Here you go."

Lando took a few sips and then leaned closer to your ear. "I love you", he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You giggled and pulled him into a hug. "I love you", you replied.

"Let’s go back to Martin", he then called, making you laugh. "Oh and can I please get another Vodka Lemon?", Lando turned to the barkeeper who looked at you for approval. "Okay sure", he said when you nodded.

"Drink up, come on, hop hop", you clapped his waist a few times and nodded to the cup of water. Lando nodded and down the liquid in a few seconds before grabbing the fresh cup and taking the two of you back to Martin.

"What do you think Zak would say if I get behind that DJ desk?", Lando asked you. You chuckled. "He already called you once today because he worried you broke your nose so I don’t think it can get much worse", you replied making Lando laugh. "I‘ll just say you forced me to", your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips and walking around the desk to join Martin.

"Joining in again?", the dutchman asked, putting his arm around Lando. He nodded and was quickly handed the headphones. You chuckled, pulling out your phone to take a video of Lando pressing random buttons on the DJ desk. He grinned broadly when he spotted your camera on him.

"Come here, baby!", he called you over, holding the hand that wasn’t holding his glass. You put your phone away and took your boyfriend‘s hand.

He turned you around in a swift motion, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing your body to his. You laughed out loud at the action but let him sway you from side to side.

Taking a sip from your glass you carefully pushed your hips back into his. When you didn’t get a reaction from him you did it again, this time a bit firmer. "Once is a mistake, two‘s a choice", he muttered in your ear, making you giggle.

Lando moved one of his hand down to your stomach, pressing you against him while he swayed your hips. His lips being so close to your ear meant the small breathy moan that left his lips was only for you to hear.

You turned your head so your nose was pressing against his jawline. A small kiss against his skin made him smile.

It wad Lando‘s turn to press himself closer to your back. "Okay, baby, no funny business until later", you chuckled, placing your fingers on his hands on your stomach.

"Oh, so you can tease but I can’t?", Lando chuckled teasingly and turned you around. "You can tease all you want, as soon as we’re inside our own four walls", you whispered, leaning closer to his ear.

"Promise?", Lando smirked.

"Promise!", you laughed, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss.

📍 Amsterdam, Netherlands

tagged: landonorris, martingarrix

yn: Kingsday well spent (+ Lando at the airport the next day🤭)

comments:

landonorris: Violation

> yn: U were the one who got injured…

> landonorris: U r the one who posted it

> yn: I was also the one who aided you

> landonorris: I- don’t have anything else to add🙃

martingarrix: Had the best time🧡

> yn: Thanks for having us!!

maxverstappen: Did my invite get lost orrr?

> yn: LETS GO OUT IN MIAMI!!

oscarpiastri: Mate, you looked DEAD

> landonorris: thanks a lot, MATE🙃

ybff: YOU LOOK GORGEOUS unlike a certain brit boy

> landonorris: hey!

fan: The way she still slayed at the club while Lando was wearing that neon ass hat😭

fan: All the Mclaren members laughing at sleeping Lando lmaoo

fan: Lando getting violated by his girlfriend and his girlfriend‘s best friend and his teammate😭

load more comments

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #ln4 #quadrant #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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charliemwrites · 7 months ago

Text

Guilty By Association Commission from the very sweet and patient @soleilak

You (Callsign: Giggles, Gigs for short) are a medic on temporary assignment with the 141. The only problem? You're a former member of Graves' Shadow Company.

Content: Injury, angst, power imbalance, fingering and oral (reader receiving)

“Get your arse in gear, Gigs!”

Already exhausted and aching, the rough bark of your temporary captain urges your heavy feet faster. Gunfire sprays all around – you’re so addled you can’t tell if it’s enemy or friendly. All you know are your orders, a cry of survival in the uneven pounding of your heart. A bullet plows into the ground dangerously close to your foot.

Just a few meters ahead, Gaz curses and tumbles to the ground, hat lost. It’s not even a decision to alter your course. You can’t tell instantly what the damage is; if he’s been hit or just tripped. So you tuck and dive, grabbing an arm and leg as your back rolls across his chest. The momentum gets the two of you up and moving again, adrenaline taking the edge off his weight.

“Get us to the trees and I can run again!” he shouts in your ear.

You settle your blurry vision on the forest line ahead. Blessed cover – and your extraction point just a mile further. Goal set, you push through the pain of bruised ribs, a wrenched arm, and the ricochet of a bullet across your thigh. You wheeze your way well past the tree line, weaving between trunks until Kyle’s palm smacks at your side.

“We’re good, we’re good,” he says.

You grunt as you set him down, give him the quickest onceover in the history of medics. His calf is bleeding, just above the tops of his boots. It’s an ugly wound; it’ll need packing – but he can survive until exfil.

“Where the fuck are you two?!” Price growls through your headset.

Kyle pats your shoulder and takes off again, only the slightest limp indicating his injury. You grit your teeth and try to follow his example.

No one helps you into the chopper when you’re the last on the ladder. You’re not surprised, but it still stings. Salt on the day’s wounds.

Once the heli is up in the air, you scoot over to help Kyle with the wound on his calf. It’s almost hypnotic, the press-wind-press-wind of packing the deep gouge. Almost like unspooling your own tension through the care of a teammate. Every inch of bandage seems to amplify your own pains, though, as the mission high ebbs.

You hurt.

When Kyle’s done, you sit back a bit to assess him for any other wounds. The twitch of his mouth and slight bob of his head tells you he’s sorted, though – and it’s more thanks than you usually get.

“Where the hell were you?” Price demands.

“I got held up, sir,” you admit. Had been ambushed by two men you thought were on another floor. Bad luck, that. Or just poor preparation on your part. Your side twinges as you ease yourself into a seat. “Won’t happen again.”

Price grunts, mollified. “See that it doesn’t.”

You get maybe thirty seconds of peace before Soap’s voice cuts through the tentative peace.

“Gonnae take care o’ that or keep bleedin’ all over Nik’s seat?” he teases. Or at least it would be, if not for the sharp glint in his eyes.

What’s that saying about sins of the father? Well, Phillip Graves was definitely not your father, nor was General Shepherd – though he was old enough to be. In their absence, it seems you’re paying for their crimes regardless.

“Right,” you sigh, tearing off the bottom of your shirt, “sorry, Nik.”

“Just stay alive to clean it up, eh?” he replies jovially.

It’s not much of a joke, but you laugh anyway. You don’t live up to your callsign much nowadays, so you’ll take the levity when you can.

You tie off the makeshift bandage with a grunt and lean your head back, too uncomfortable to doze off.

At least the infirmary is a friendly sight. The staff are always grateful for an extra set of hands – even if they once belonged to a Shadow. And you have a lot of time to help since you’re not encouraged (never mind invited) to any non-professional activities with the 141. Working with the nurses during all that extra time has gained you some friends at least.

Dana is on call when you limp in. She fusses about you looking like the walking dead – then goes on to tell regale you with details from her current first-time watch of the show. The stream of words soothes you in the quiet little treatment room.

“Think we need an x-ray, dove?” she asks, prodding at your already discolored ribs.

“Wouldn’t help,” you sigh, “we can just wrap ‘em and call it.”

“Alright, dear, but you know what to do if it gets worse.”

“’Course,” you answer, summoning a grin, “can’t be keelin’ over before your nephew leaves that tart.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started – you know what she said at Sunday dinner?”

You giggle through her undoubtedly embellished story until she gets to your thigh – and the terrible bandaging.

“A piece of your shirt,” she scolds.

“My bag was too far, and my ribs hurt,” you complain.

“And what are all those big burly men for then, eh?” she huffs.

You shake your head. “I can’t ask them to help.”

Dana scowls past your hip. “Just because you’re the medic—”

“Pardon.”

You jolt in surprise at Captain Price in the doorway. Christ, he takes up the breadth of it too, shoulders brushing the jamb on either side. Even mission-dirty and stern-looking, he’s a hell of a welcome sight – though an unexpected one.

You try to sit up at some semblance of attention, but he waves you off. Can’t say you’re not grateful, unable to help wincing as you lie back.

You don’t notice him pause as Dana washes the wound, too busy sucking air through your nose.

“What’s… the damage?” he asks carefully.

You open your mouth to answer, but Dana beats you to it.

“Contused ribs, sprained shoulder, and a bullet wound to the thigh,” she rattles off. You’re always impressed by the undercurrent of disapproval and accusation she manages to weave into each word. “Not to mention dehydration and sleep deprivation. You’ve been staying up again, haven’t you?”

You clear your throat and turn your eyes skywards. “Oh, look at the ceiling. What a lovely ceiling.”

She clicks her tongue and begins packing the wound as you had for Gaz.

“Bullet wound?” Price asks sharply. Your eyes flick guiltily to him. “Why the hell am I hearing about this now?”

“It’s just a graze, sir,” you reply. “Sergeant Garrick’s was worse.”

His jaw does that thing you secretly (ashamedly) drool over, where it tightens and jumps. You know it’s not good but hey, silver linings right?

He doesn’t ream you out though. Just crosses his burly arms and lets out a long, heavy breath. You’re… not really sure what that means.

“Debrief at 0700 tomorrow, Gigs,” he says, voice unusually subdued.

“Yessir,” you reply dutifully.

As always, a strange mix of relief and disappointment twists in your chest as he walks away. Talking to him is a bit like being under a microscope – if that microscope was ready to brand you a low-down, no-good, dirty, rotten traitor at the first hint of suspicious activity.

You get it, you do. Graves and Shadow Company tried to kill Soap and Ghost, Los Vaqueros, and committed unspeakable atrocities. As much history as you had with him, he deserved what came to him, and Shepherd will deserve the same when he’s found.

Not that your hands were clean before Las Almas, but you drew the line when the orders came. Couldn’t bear to detain or shoot the friends you’d made in Los Vaqueros, or join the hunting party for Soap and Ghost. You’d been labelled a turncoat by your own teammates, thrown into a cell to be “court-martialed.”

Kate Laswell coming to your rescue was a second chance, a small-time miracle that you’ve been determined to earn ever since. In your more pathetic moments, usually in the small, dark, lonely hours of sleepless nights, you wonder how much it will take. How long you’ll be guilty by association.

At least this isn’t shaping up to be one of those nights. You’re half asleep by the time Dana sends you off, arm chilly from the IV fluids she bullied you into. For once, you might get a few decent hours.

Your second surprise of the night comes just outside your barracks door. Soap is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, head back and eyes closed. Awake, though. His index finger is tapping a steady but rapid pace on his bicep.

“Soap?” you say, alerting him. “Did you… need me for something? You’re not injured, are you?”

He straightens up, drops his arms to his side. You pause a noticeable distance away, uncertainty leashing you to the safety of space. Not that you feel threatened. His posture is the loosest it’s been around you since… well, since before Las Almas went to hell.

“’Course no’, I woulda – tha’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh…” You process the strange wording. “Why are you here, then?”

He shifts his weight, a little line appearing between his brows as he seems to gather himself.

“I’m here to apologize.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Look, what I said during exfil – it was bang outta order. You’ve been nothin’ but good to us ‘n I’m still holdin’ on to old shite.”

You shift, adjust the stupid flimsy sling for your sore shoulder. “It’s… not that old,” you reason, “and I don’t blame you, either. Not after everything.”

“Still, ya did the right thing back then – and ya’ve proven yourself half a dozen times over, besides. I’ve got no reason to treat you like an enemy.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. It feels like you’ve swallowed a grenade; any moment the pin is going to come out and an explosion of gory emotion will splatter the walls.

“Thanks, Soap.”

He grunts something about “not thanking him” and ducks his head, shuffling past you.

“Seriously,” you say, voice strained from keeping it even. “I really appreciate it.”

He pauses, gives you a genuinely kind look. “Rest up, lass.”

It’s the best you’ve slept in a long while – after you cry into your pillow, that is.

At 0700 the next day, you’re in Price’s office, sore but in high spirits. Gaz sat next to you and Soap said good morning at breakfast. Even Ghost seemed less frosty than usual, grunting at you in acknowledgement when you’d sat down.

Of course, the good luck couldn’t last.

The debrief itself is fine. You speak when it’s your turn, listen when it isn’t. About as normal as it gets for a special ops squad.

It’s as the rest of the task force is filing out the door that the other shoe drops.

“Gigs, a word,” Price calls.

You freeze mid-step, shoot Gaz a panicky glance. He glances over your shoulder, snorts, and pats your arm in solidarity. Not as helpful as he thinks.

With a deep breath, you pivot back around. The door closes behind you with a damning click. You can’t even hide your hands behind your back to fidget at parade rest – your arm needs to stay in the sling for the rest of the day.

“We need to discuss yesterday,” Price says, palms flat on his desk.

You tilt your head. Wasn’t that what the debrief was for?

“Sir?” you ask. “If I – did I do something wrong?”

He deflates a bit, big shoulders dropping before he pushes himself up and rounds the desk.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” he explains, “but I have concerns.”

When he gestures for you to take one of the visitor seats, you do. You’re a bit surprised when he takes the other – though you can’t help an appreciative glance while his attention is elsewhere. He practically dwarfs the stupid little chair, and the way he spreads his thighs trying to get comfortable…

“Concerns, sir?” you parrot, trying to corral your scrambled braincells.

“What you said in the infirmary,” he begins, expression solemn, “is that really how you feel?”

“What I said…?” You try to recall anything of note from last night, but most of what came out of your mouth is a blur at best. “What did I say?”

He leans forward, lacing his scarred fingers together. You try not to stare, though the way he rubs at the knuckle of one thumb with the other is distracting. It’s an unusual gesture for the disciplined, determined man you’ve been honored to call captain for months now.

“That you can’t ask us to help you.”

A block of ice drops into your stomach.

“That’s not – I know you guys would help me if I needed it,” you hurry to say.

He gives you a long look. “Then why don’t you ever ask? You were shot and didn’t say a bloody thing.”

You shift, unable to meet his eyes. Can’t find the words to answer. It’s not that you didn’t think you could ask. It just didn’t feel right with the bad blood between you, Soap, and Ghost. Besides, you’re the medic, you’re supposed to be the one fixing everyone else – not the other way around. What use are you otherwise?

You try to explain this to Price, but you sense (from the grim set to his handsome features) that it’s not helping.

“I’ve been a shite captain to you, haven’t I?” he sighs.

You jump. “No, sir! You’re a great captain. I trust you with my life.”

He chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor. Sounds almost self-deprecating.

“I’ve not done a bloody thing to earn it.”

You shake your head. “Sir, you’ve kept me alive for months now. That’s plenty.”

Beyond that, he’s always been fair with you. Doesn’t give you shit assignments or the most dangerous roles in missions. Always makes sure you’re alive and accounted for. Calls you out for mistakes and faults, sure, but it’s for the sake of you and everyone else. He’s been just as ready to pat your shoulder for a clever maneuver or praise a good shot.

“You know damn well it’s not,” he scolds.

You huff, almost amused. “Sir, with all due respect, get off the cross we need the wood.”

His eyebrows jump up nearly to his hairline. Normally, you wouldn’t dream of being so cavalier with Price of all people. Soap’s truce last night gives you the confidence to continue.

“I know you didn’t trust me as a former Shadow at first,” you say, “but you looked out for me anyway. After the first few missions… it seemed like things evened out.”

He sighs and sits back, running a hand down his face.

“Laswell vouched for you – it’s the only reason I didn’t send you right back on that plane,” he admits. A small but genuine smile curls his mouth. “And then you put your life on the line for my boys time and time again.”

You mirror him, the tension in your shoulders easing away with each word.

“I knew things weren’t great with the others, but I thought it was best if I kept out of it. Let you lot sort it out so long as you all cooperated when it mattered,” he continues. “I didn’t realize how bad it got, and that’s on me. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and lightly tap your boot against his. “It wasn’t the wrong call, sir. I think things are going to get better from here on out.”

He hums, eyes searching your gentle smile for any hint of insincerity. But you believe it, and it must show, because his eyes crinkle as he smiles back.

“Speaking of better,” he says, clearing his throat. “Mind if I take a look at those ribs? Dana had some choice words for me this morning.”

You giggle and tug your shirt from your waistband, hiking the hem up high to show the reddish-purple mottling all over your left side. Price makes a noise of sympathy, easing out of his chair to the carpeted floor. On his knees, he inches closer, leaning in to inspect the damage.

“How’d this happen?” he asks, voice lowering.

His fingertips skim over the edges of the bruises, featherlight. Your voice gets strangled in your throat as tingles race across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Um, hostile kicked me. A lot.”

His eyes flick up to yours, hard as ice. “Dead?”

“Yessir.”

His gaze softens, a proud, smug quirk to his lips. “Atta girl.”

You can’t fully suppress a shiver. It’s not just the gentle, considerate touches. It’s the purring praise from a man you’ve admired and harbored a sizeable crush on.

“Cold?” he asks.

This is your chance to wave it off. To pretend you are not so inappropriately infatuated with a man you thought only tolerated you until a minute ago. A little white lie, you could smooth your shirt back down, and be on your way.

But you don’t want to do that. Not really.

And from the way his pupils are slowly, steadily subsuming his irises, neither does he.

“No, sir,” you whisper.

His slow exhale caresses across your tender ribs.

“Then would you be comfortable if I checked on your ‘little graze’ as well?” It’s a tease, but also a genuine check of your boundaries. Another out, freely and openly given, that only solidifies your resolve to see where he’s going with this.

“Yessir,” you answer, shifting to get at your belt.

Price tsks, though, big hands spreading across each thigh and urging you down again.

“Now, now, don’t aggravate that shoulder,” he murmurs. “Let me help like a good captain.”

You swallow back an embarrassing noise as deft hands unbuckle your belt, thumb the button of your pants open, and drag the zipper down tooth by tooth. His thick, warm forearms rest on your thighs the entire time, keep them spread to accommodate his wide shoulders. He’s in no rush to continue his “checkup,” toying along the length of your waistband before easing it down.

“Lift up for me, darling, there we are,” he murmurs. You gasp softly as his palms brush your ass while sliding your pants down. Then outright squeak as he squeezes a cheek in each hand, a low noise of admiration rumbling in his throat.

“Gorgeous girl,” he chuckles. “Gorgeous arse.”

Your face feels hot as he tugs your pants down to your ankles, though the square of gauze and tape on the back of your thigh is long revealed. It takes conscious effort not to squirm under his hot gaze, praying a wet spot isn’t already visible on your panties.

“Let’s just get this one free…” He works the pantleg over your boot, leaving the other pooled around the laces. “Now then.”

You bite into your lip as he hauls your calf up into his shoulder, propping your leg up to get a clear view of your thigh.

“Not bled through,” he notes, tracing the neat edges of the medical tape. “You’ve been taking good care of it. Well done.”

You can’t help the little twitch that evokes, your whole body reacting to the deep timbre of his voice. He’s not oblivious to his effect on you, a glint in his eye as his bristly jaw brushes the inside of your knee.

“T-told you, it wasn’t too bad,” you manage weakly.

He hums and your pussy clenches helplessly around nothing. His eyes flick down and you know it’s all over.

“And what about this, hm?” he asks. You whimper as his thumb skims the lace edge of your panties. “Have you been taking care of this?”

Flustered and yet so, so turned on, you can only shake your head. He coos in mock disappointment, rubbing slow circles across your labia, closer and closer to where you’re aching and needy.

“It’s alright sergeant,” he soothes, “your captain will take care of you.”

Except he only rubs you through your panties A maddening pressure back and forth along the wet seam of your cunt, never delving deeper. You break down in hardly any time at all.

“Sir, please,” you whine, wriggling. He’s quick to brace you still again, leisurely movements never faltering.

“Please what, darling?” he teases.

“I-I need…” You whimper with embarrassment, squeezing your eyes shut. “I need you to take care of me, please, captain.”

He practically growls as he tears through the hip of your panties, tossing them aside in a sodden heap on the ground. With two fingers, he parts your labia, eyes hungrily drinking in the cream shimmering between them.

“All this and I’ve barely touched you,” he rasps, awed.

You nearly sob with desperation for something, anything. He shushes your fussy little noises with his thumb, dipping into the pool of slick at your entrance. Gets the pad soaked before drawing a line up to your swollen, sensitive clit. Your mouth falls open as he starts drawing tight, firm circles over that bundle of nerves.

He treats your body and your pleasure with all the confidence and competence you’ve come to expect of John Price. It takes shockingly little time for him to learn just how to press, how fast to rub, the patterns and circuits that get your legs shaking. And that’s before he twists his wrist and sinks a finger inside you.

“Practically sucking me in, love,” he murmurs, petting at your walls. You shudder and wordlessly beg for more, rocking your hips. “Need another already, greedy girl?”

He doesn’t even wait for your nod before stuffing you with another, curling and scissoring, exploring. You keen as he finds a sweet, sensitive spot inside you and begins toying with it, his thumb still swiping relentlessly at your clit.

He settles into a rhythm that has you moaning and keening, the heel of your boot digging into his shoulder blade. All the while he showers you in praise and encouragement, the dirtiest compliments that make you clench down tightly on his hand. Your body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending lit up with pleasure.

It’s builds and builds and builds, never quite cresting. You’re near tears when you moan his name, trying to find some leverage or angle to finally tip you over the edge.

“Do you need to cum, doll?”

“Yes, yes,” you cry, “please, sir, I wanna cum for you. Please, I’m s-so close.”

He hums, bracing your thigh with his free hand as he leans in. Your foggy brain doesn’t have enough time to process before he latches onto your clit and a third finger bullies into you. You wail. Your thigh twinges from the dull pressure of his shoulder, but the slight pain only adds a delicious edge to the pleasure.

His tongue swipes across your puffy clit once, twice, three times and you’re gone. You gush all over his hand, his beard, onto the chair. Your hips jerk as he works you over, fingers abusing your g-spot relentlessly despite how tightly you clamp down. Your body feels nuclear, nerves popping like firecrackers.

He only relents when the waves of ecstasy threaten to drown you in overstimulation. He eases his fingers from your twitchy hole, making room for him to lick you clean. It’s loud and obscene, yet there’s no room left for embarrassment anymore. You shiver and pant in the aftermath, your body unravelling into a puddle.

“Wh-what about you?” you ask as he begins straightening out your clothes. There’s an absolutely delectable-looking bulge in his fatigues that you’re dying to get your tongue on.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “If you want more –” (“I do.”) “- then you’ll have to wait until you’re healed up. Non-negotiable.”

You try to pout, but the effort is thwarted when he chucks you gently under the chin.

“C’mon, let’s have a lie down.”

He steadies you as you wobble to the couch off to the side, lying down first and letting you cuddle up between his legs. It’s a comfort more than you would have expected from a clandestine little triste, but you should know better than to doubt your captain. Head resting on his chest, you let yourself drift for a while, lulled by his fingers carding through your hair.

“Price…?” you ask after a while.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t do this just to… I dunno, make up for something, right?”

He huffs. “No, sweetheart. I’ve been arse over teakettle for a while. Staring like a complete muppet when you train.”

You hide a grin against his collarbone. “Good. I thought I’d have to start making things up for you to owe me.”

His chuckle rocks through you, and for the first time in a while, it feels a bit like home.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #commissioned work #john price x reader #captain john price #tf 141 #medic reader #former shadow reader

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angelsforthenight · 1 month ago

Text

take care of me…

ellie williams x fem! reader

cw: mdni, modern AU, sub! ellie, dom! reader, loser!ellie, established relationship, use of vibrator, cunnilingus, slight degrading, overstimulation, bush! ellie 🤑, begging, crying, cursing, sub-space, aftercare + some fluff at the end :3

WHAT IS SUB-SPACE? sub-space is an altered state of consciousness that can happen during BDSM play. typically it’s when the bottom gets all high and floaty. subs in subspace may have a higher pain tolerance, have difficulty speaking, and lose all sense of time.

“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.

hold on, run that back. wanna know how you got here?

“babe, i’m not even kidding, i think i ripped out a tastebud.” ellie’s been complaining about this for the entire day, but doing nothing about it. to be frank, it’s been pissing you off a little. ellie could just as well get up and take a look in the mirror for herself, but for some reason she insists on you checking it out.

this isn’t the first time you’ve had to play doctor. don’t get it twisted, it’s cute! having to take care of your girlfriend is a gift you want to keep safe in an enclosed haven. but only when something has actually happened.

when false alarms happen one too many times, it’s only natural you get at least a little annoyed, and you’re very positive that this moment is another one of that case, yet you never seem to get enough. you set the book you were reading down, sitting up on your bed.

“let me see.” you sigh, placing your fingers on her chin, tilting her head up. ellie sticks her tongue out and to no surprise at all, there’s nothing.

“you’re kidding me, right?”

“what? no! i just hurt my tongue so bad trying to shred the guitar!” ellie says defensively.

“well then you’re stupid.” you laugh, “who the hell does that?”

“jimi hendrix does…” she mumbles sullenly, hanging her head low and so very clearly trying to make you pity her and give in. and alas, it’s working.

“stop pouting and come here.” you roll your eyes, even if there’s a hint of a smile on your lips. ellie lights up too, shuffling closer and opening her mouth again.

you scrutinise your stare. it’s a little red, yes, but that’s the entire tip of her tongue. if ellie ripped out a tastebud like she claims she did, she would have at least been bleeding a little bit.

meanwhile, ellie keeps her eyes trained on you. it’s so quiet in the room apart from the whirring fan noises and the sounds of cars driving past every now and then. she likes seeing you all focused, with your attention on nothing else but her. secretly, that’s why she’s always pestering you about meaningless injuries.

“you didn’t tell me where…” you murmur, but you leave no space for her to respond when you clamp her tongue down with your thumb and forefinger; pulling her tongue down a little further so you can get a closer look. the pad of your thumb drags across it to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is you’re really looking for. ellie’s caught off guard by this move. in fact, it projects her into this sudden state of being very aware of what you two are doing, the feel of your fingers in her mouth, on her tongue. she can’t help but fidget, getting distracted.

“don’t move.” you mutter, oblivious to the way ellie’s feeling. that firm command stirs her up even more, her breathing uncontrollably growing heavier. she tries to lock in, but with the way she’s suddenly conscious? horny? fuuuck, it’s difficult. you feel her hot breath fan against your knuckles.

“if you ripped out a tastebud then you would’ve been bleed—“ you trail off in the middle of your sentence when you glance up at ellie. her cheeks are a light shade of pink, prominent even under the warm amber glow of your bedroom lamp lights. her eyebrows are arched upwards, staring at you with this helpless look on her face. she looks so, undeniably pathetic. surprised, you let go of her tongue.

ellie looks away, wiping her mouth with her fist. you realise she’s very faintly trembling.

“ellie…” you murmur softly.

“what are we gonna have for dinner, by the way? you cooked yesterday but i’m very shit at cooking so we could order door-dash but at the same time we did door-dash the day before yesterday and the day before-before so..” she begins to ramble, clearly flustered and embarrassed. you smile.

“ellie.” you say again, taking her hands in yours. she pauses, staring at you. her chest heaves, eyes all big and yielding.

“let’s do this again, ‘kay? wanna tell me what you really want?” you say slowly, and the way your tone is soft makes ellie’s head feel foggy. she takes a deep breath, which almost sounds like a whine.

“i… um…” ellie’s always had trouble communicating what she wants. she avoids your gaze, trying to find the right words to say. she feels like a glop of slime, slowly melting. you give her an encouraging smile, brushing your thumb against the back of her palm in repeated back and forth motions.

“i want you… to, um— i need you to take care of me.” her voice crackles with neediness, urgency laced in her tone. her lips are quivering. you can tell how bad she wants this, but you can’t help but prod her some more.

“take care of you how? lots of ways i can do that.” your voice is consistently soft, almost cooing. ellie’s mind keeps on slipping into this hazy state, lips quivering and eyes half-slits.

“y-you know. i don’t have to tell you…”

“damn right you do.” you tut. “you’re gonna use your words and tell me what you want. i’m not inside your brain now, am i?” the slight change in tone makes ellie flinch, as she’d quite frankly die before disappointing you. you can literally see the cogs in her head moving, calculating what to say so that you’re able to give her what she wants and simultaneously not being bad.

her eyebrows arch again, subtly scooting even closer to you so that her knees are pressed directly against yours.

“can we… uh… like, have sex? like you touching me and stuff?” she whispers, as if somebody else could hear. you initially try to stifle in your laughter, but it slips out.

“oh yeah? how do you want it?” you giggle, amused by the way ellie’s fumbling over her words and constructing her sentences in this weird, adorable way. ellie scowls, not finding this the least bit funny.

“stop laughing at me.”

“how do you want it?” you repeat, grinning.

“i don’t know, you can do anything you want… just… please. i need to cum.” ellie groans, but it sounds more like a helpless mewl. you stare at her whilst ellie fidgets in her seat, eyes repeatedly flicking between your eyes, your lips and your lap. you can’t help but ‘awww’ in pity.

“anything, yeah? don’t hold your word against me, okay?” you raise your brows, expecting a response. ellie shudders in excitement.

“okay.”

so next thing you know, you two are kissing whilst ellie’s propped up on your lap. you’re aware of how she's grinding on you; trying to give herself flickers of stimulation. you let it happen, occasionally teasing her by bucking your own hips up. whenever you do so, ellie has a hard time kissing you back, losing composure and moaning in your mouth. it’s the hottest thing.

you pull away so you can marvel at the look on ellie’s face; quietly panting for breath whilst she stares at you with the most pliant look. so malleable it’s as if you could bend her into anything you wanted with just a command.

you smush your lips against hers again, only you’re more greedy this time: pushing forwards so you both drop onto the bed. you intertwine your fingers with hers, peppering wet kisses on her neck. the way your lips tug on her skin compiles ellie into mush, with no thoughts running through her head. she whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as her back arches, chest against chest. you continue to administer neck-kisses, leaving a few selfish marks whilst your free hand slowly inches it’s way towards ellie’s pants, tugging it down. ellie’s in her own world: wriggling free from the confines of her sweatpants as her head lolls against the pillow. next, your hand quietly reaches for the drawer. ellie’s eyes are closed, so she doesn’t realise when you pull out a vibrator with the head of a cute bear. you bite your lip, stifling in your amused excitement when you press the machine against ellie’s clothed cunt. ellie harshly gasps, eyes flying open before groaning.

“oh, i fucking hate you…” she laughs, head plopping back down, “you just had… to go for the— stupid bear one…” her words keep on getting broken up by moans slipping out.

“do you like this?” you grin. a wet spot slowly fades in the centre of ellie’s underwear. ellie whines when you heighten the setting. “yes or no?”

“yes….” ellie squeaks. “can we… t-take… aaah…” ellie’s having a hard time speaking with the vibrator flush against her. her underwear is growing wetter and wetter, outlining her vulva clearly. her stomach tightens.

“hmmmm?” ellie’s thighs twitch in delight at the sensation, back arching as she seeks out for more.

“my underwear… take it off, please.” she gasps out, her entire body buzzing. you turn the vibrator off so she has time to breathe, deciding to be nice for now: serving as a prior make-up for how much you’re going to ruin the poor girl. that’s why you do what she’s asked of you, slowly pulling off her undies. ellie shivers at the way it rolls down her legs, twitching at the air fanning her now bare cunt. your place your hand at the top of her mound, fingers spreading through her pubes as your thumb grazes against her folds, slightly opening it and watching as the juices eagerly flow out. you unconsciously lick your lips, pupils darkening. ellie watches you and blushes.

“you’re this needy? just ‘cuz of the tongue thing?” you taunt whilst ellie whines in response. you dip your head in between her legs, tongue flicking out to get a taste. “ohhhh my god, yesyesyesyes…” ellie whispers. you’re hungry, munching on her pussy like you’ve been starving for damn near weeks. ellie’s back flies off the bed, her hands desperately gripping the sheets.

“pathetic…” you mumble, and ellie moans at the way the word thrums against her pussy, sending vibrations in her entire body. her moans unabashedly rip out of her lips at the way you kiss and suck her heat. the frenzy consumes her, as her body jerks uncontrollably. to induce the cruelty, you suddenly pause: an idea flicking through your head like a light bulb.

“i’m really gonna mess you up. sorry, baby…” you murmur but ellie couldn’t care any less, so goddamn needy for release she’ll accept anything you give her. you grab the discarded bear-head and press down against her clit, the setting even higher than last time. it elicits loud reactions from ellie, helpless whimpers tumbling from her lips as she receives thrum after thrums of pleasure.

to make matters (better) worse, you resume your pussy-licking, so ellie can feel both the vibrator and your lips on her mound. ellie cries out, thighs instinctively trying to close themselves up. your hand firmly presses down on her thigh, keeping them open.

you’re putting the work in, going to town on her and really fucking her up. thick tears stream down her face from how insanely good it all feels, her entire body twitching and jolting. your tongue laps strongly, whilst the vibrator is on the highest setting it can be. ellie’s bordering on becoming animalistic, letting out grunts and loud moans.

“g-gonna cum.. —cumming, i’m cumming..” ellie babbles pathetically, seldom coherent. jolting sharply, she grips your hair tightly, in which you groan from the slight pain, as you feel her warm juices flowing in your mouth. ellie pants as you turn the bear-head off, lifting your head up to glance at ellie.

you did succeed in breaking the hell out of her. there’s a heavy, dazed look written across her face; eyes glazed-over and as if she’s not really here. she looks boneless yet plush. you lift yourself up, gazing at her softly. it’s understandable she’s entered into sub-space after what they’ve just done.

“oh, baby…” you whisper, lifting her up so you two are sitting. ellie complies silently, weakly wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in the crook of your neck. there is no train of thought running through her head, and it’s almost as if she’s unconscious whilst fully awake. you run your fingers through her hair, kissing her head.

“my sweet girl… you did so good. so proud of you.” you whisper in her ear. ellie hums in response, burying her face even more. she’s all blissed out, liking the way the tip of your nails dance across her scalp. it makes her feel safe, but most of all loved.

hours later, when you two do end up ordering door-dash for the third time this week, ellie ends up flatly denying the state she had been in earlier.

“nope. no idea what you’re talking about.” she says, yet unable to hide her sheepish smile.

a/n: my singular contribution to kinktober 🧎‍♀️also i am a suuuuucker for sub! ellie like i was so giggly writing this!!! lmk if u were too (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)!!

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