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shootybangbang · 3 years ago

Note

Can i request an Arthur/sadistic female reader please？i really want to see him all messed up because of...you know🥺

(btw, pls check out the requester's art. her arthur content is 😩👌)

[Oneshot]: In which you still don't know how to tie an overhand knot

[Rating]: Explicit

[Note]: this is so fucking horny that i feel i have to apologize in advance. unedited and a little rough around the edges, feel free to point out errors or give criticism

———

“Huh,” you muse aloud. “Looks like the gallery’s putting up a new exhibition this weekend.”

With one hand, you spread the newspaper across the bed and skip to page three. With the other, you continue to stroke Arthur’s cock, twisting your wrist a little to smooth your palm against its dripping tip. The man himself groans as you touch him, and the frame of his body trembles beneath where you’ve straddled yourself over his thighs.

His breaths are quickening again. “Please,” Arthur rasps, his voice hoarse with exertion and desperation alike. You indulge him with another slow, teasing pump of your fist as you continue to pick through the St Denis Tribune, humming thoughtfully as you peruse the newspaper’s Arts and Entertainment section.

“I’m beggin’ you, girl.” He sounds as though he’s teetering on the very edge of agony and ecstasy, and venturing perilously close to the latter. “C’mon. Please.”

“Looks like it’s mostly Impressionists this time. Let’s see here… a selection of Seurats and Monets… a couple Renoirs… oh, some Degas too?” With a mild expression that belies the depth of torture you’ve been putting him through, you slow your hand to a stop. He makes a choked, unhappy noise in the back of his throat that you heartily ignore. “That’s pretty bold of them, considering the reception they gave that Chatenay fellow you told me about.”

Growling, Arthur starts fumbling with the (admittedly badly tied) restraints securing his arms behind his back, twisting his wrists in an attempt to find a loose end.

“Easy there.” You run the pad of your thumb along the ridge delineating the head of his cock, slicking against the precum beaded at its tip. “I’ll give you what you want soon enough.”

“Been hearin’ you say that for almost half an hour now,” he replies, glaring. “You enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Immensely.”

“Better savor it while you can, because I promise you — I’m gonna remember this the next time I get you beneath me.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? What‘re you gonna do then?”

“Untie me and I’ll show you,” he says.

“No,” you reply with a beatific smile.

He narrows his eyes and lowers his voice to something smooth and dangerous: the sort of tone you’ve known him to use for threats he actually intends to follow through on. “When it’s my turn,” he says. “I ain’t gonna tie you up. Won’t need to. Because with you, all I need is my hands.”

A shiver runs down your spine. The man’s wrists may be bound, but you’re still very much at his mercy. In all actuality, your authority here amounts to only a length of rope and his own good humor.

You let out a soft, involuntary whimper at the very thought of it.

“Gonna pin you down when I fuck you,” he continues. He’s smirking now, clearly enjoying the demonstrable effect his words have on you. “Lay you down on your stomach and keep you under me, where you belong.”

You’re half-tempted to loose the rope and let him do just that. Instead, you grab the hem of your shift with both hands and pull the garment over your head in a single fluid motion. It’s 1899, after all. High time for a woman to take charge of her own pleasure.

The dim glow of the oil lamp bathes your bare skin in a wash of gold and amber as you settle yourself against him, pressing the wet line of your slit along the length of his cock. “Go on,” you tell him. “What else?”

Arthur swallows hard and licks his lips, then draws in a sharp intake of breath as you roll your hips forward — just a brief stir of movement, but more than enough to make him twitch beneath you. “Drive you to the brink the same way you’re doin’ to me now,” he says weakly. “Take my time with you, nice and slow. Make you really beg for it.”

“Mm-hmm.” Another roll of your hips, this time with just enough pressure to grant him a touch of warmth.

Finally, he breaks. And it’s truly a sight to behold: Arthur Morgan, a man who you’d thought would break your spine like a toothpick the first time you’d met, openly begging for the simple privilege of being allowed between your thighs.

“God, please,” he groans. “You can’t do this to me. Can’t let me feel how wet you are and just leave me like this.”

“Of course I can.” You relent. “But I won’t. So be a good boy and stay still for me, alright?”

His cock weighs heavy in your hand as you guide him between your thighs. Arthur lets out a harsh gasp and instinctively thrusts upwards — but you immediately withdraw, and he finds nothing but the cruel emptiness of absence waiting to receive him.

“Thought I told you to stay still,” you repeat sternly.

He nods with the frantic desperation of a badly-trained dog begging for a meal. Hungry and eager, but standing to attention with as much obedience he can muster. Which isn’t much, even on the best of days, but he is trying. And for that, he deserves something in return.

You take him in slowly, both out of principle and necessity. Just a taste of him first, then the gradual descent, a long and drawn out consumption that he has barely the means to endure.

His gaze still hasn’t left you. There is an intensity in it that once might have frightened you, an azure bright as broken glass and twice as sharp. The purity of emotion in them strikes you to the bone, makes your throat tighten and your dominance waver — there is a depth of devotion there that borders on the absolute.

When you move against him, he squeezes his eyes shut against the sheer force of sensation that floods through. Arthur makes a low, pained noise in the back of his throat and confesses, “I ain’t gonna last long.”

You lean forward and kiss him, then start a slow, rocking motion with your hips that spurs him to whimper your name against your lips, a small cry of warning before you feel the first twitches of his cock. Arthur bucks up once, twice, then shudders beneath you as his seed pulses deep, blooms hot and slick inside your core.

“Goddammit,” he hisses. “Didn’t think I’d— ah, fuck…”

You ride on, grinding through the last, weakening throbs of his orgasm and until he lets out a final, heavy sigh. Arthur regards you with loose-limbed exhaustion, lolling his head against your pillows as he flashes you a drained, weary grin. “Alright,” he says. “Untie me and get up here so I can—”

“No need,” you say brightly, then lift your hips in a brief mockery of release before sheathing him again and sending him reeling into oversensitivity.

Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasps, wincing. “What’re you—”

“Too much?”

“Didn’t say that,” he says. His jaw is clenched tight and his voice is faint, but the look on his face is one of stubborn determination.

You test him with another slow, sinuous slide of your hips. This time, he meets you with a shallow thrust of his own. He’s breathing hard, each exhale shivery with exertion. “Keep goin’,” he urges. “I can take it.”

The added lubrication of his come eases the friction of him, soothes the inevitable ache of penetration. You settle for an unhurried, leisurely rhythm that allows you to fully appreciate the slickness of each stroke, the accompanying warmth of his seed still spread through your core.

Arthur’s gaze darts downwards to the base of his shaft, where the drip of his come has begun to pool. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. “Just beautiful.”

He snakes his right arm free from his bonds and abruptly flips you onto your back with a well-timed shove.

“What— how did you…?”

“Sweetheart,” Arthur says, his voice warm and affectionately condescending. “You still can’t tie an overhand knot for shit.”

“But I double-checked this time!”

“Not very well, apparently.” He hitches your thighs around his waist and cages you in beneath him, then lowers his mouth to the slope of your neck. A brief, gentle nip — not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to convey his renewed authority. “God, but you’re a greedy little thing, ain’t you?” he growls against your skin. “Just one load of my spend ain’t enough?”

“Thought you’d appreciate the challenge, since you’re always so— oh, shit,” you gasp, clutching at his shoulders when he drives himself downwards with a sharp, savage thrust.

“Go on.” Arthur says. He’s panting now, his dark blond hair slicked against his forehead with sweat. “Weren’t you sayin’ somethin’ about me?”

You let out an indecipherable whine that bears only a passing resemblance to human language.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs, low and tender. Arthur cups the side of your face against his palm and traces his thumb over your cheekbone, then presses a chaste kiss to your brow. “Can’t even talk right when I’m fucking her proper.”

He’ll no doubt be insufferably smug about this later, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, distracted as you are by the view of him rutting against you, his shaft still streaked with his previous release. He’s fucking his own come back into me, you think to yourself, and that thought alone blinds out all else and leaves you blank with pleasure.

Arthur takes you hard and fast. Far rougher than his usual handling, which can sometimes be almost excruciatingly cautious. He kisses you clumsily, then lowers his mouth to the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting until the first, faint traces of tomorrow’s bruises begin to darken.

And with this, it’s not long before the first delirious ripples of your own orgasm begin to crest.

Every muscle drawn and tensed, dissolving into an inward ache of arousal that spurs you to grip him tight and whimper, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep his face in view. With a fierce satisfaction, you savor the sudden weakness in his expression when he feels you contract against him, then his harsh groan and the stutter of his hips as he follows, spilling what seed he has left.

Arthur keeps himself hilted until the very last shivers of exhilaration fade, then pulls away with a reluctance usually reserved for long farewells. The overflow of his come is thick and heavy as it drips from between your thighs, and the look on his face as he beholds it is one of tired appreciation.

Then he flops onto his side, totally spent. “You’re a real demon,” he sighs. “You know that?”

“A real demon would go for round three,” you reply faintly, staring dreamy-eyed up at the ceiling.

Arthur groans at the mere suggestion of it. “I think that’d actually kill me.”

When you curl up against him, he automatically throws an arm over your side, the action at this point an instinct secondary only to breathing, and brushes his mouth over the back of your neck.

As you ebb towards sleep, you murmur as an afterthought, “Didn’t you say you were gonna make me beg?”

He lets out a weary chuckle. “Well,” he says, “There’s always tomorrow.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan/oc #rdr2 #red dead redemption #fic #smut #my work #this makes my kinks so apparent that i want to crawl into a hole and die #sorry for being gross :’^)

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seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

Text

To the Limit

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Slight smut. Use of safeword. Language.

Request: Hi! Can u make Severus × Reader when the reader use the safe words for the first time because idk maybe it's too much for the reader that day or smth else you like..Thankyouu 💕💕 love ur writings btw ❤❤

A/N: Here we gooooooo. Reminder, everything is consensual.

Word Count: 2,947

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.”

Severus has always been flexible in the bedroom. Yes, Severus Snape is versatile in the sheets and has more love making skills than you originally would’ve given him credit for. Sex with Severus can range anywhere from slow and careful where praising your body is his main objective, to fucking you so mercilessly that stars are dotting the back of your eyelids with each hard thrust.

Sometimes, you don’t have to establish what kind of theme your sessions will take on. If Severus comes home angry from a long, obnoxious day then you very well know that a rough fucking will get it out of his system. When you’ve just watched one of your favorite romantic drama Muggle movies that have sent you into tears, he knows that something more unhurried is in order so you are reminded of how much he loves you.

Other times though, there isn’t really anything that determines the kind of sex you’ll be having. If the mood is right for both of you, then you often will just figure it out from there.

Severus’ return on Friday night from a long week of classes was coated with his desire for you. You could practically feel the hard sexual tension radiating off of his whole being. From the moment he walked in the door, you knew what tonight would hold for the both of you. More than likely, it’d be a whole lot of rutted fucking and orgasms until neither of you had any stamina left to give. Normally, a seed of excitement would be planted and begin to grow in your core at the thought of being touched by him, but you didn’t feel it this time.

It had been a bad week to put it simply. Work was weighing you down and you had taken more hits than you were used to in a five day time period. Exhaustion had riddled you, and stress has gotten the best of you. Emotional breakdown was the only way you could describe how you were feeling. You really weren’t feeling up to what Severus wanted to do. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him when his hands and lips were on you, moving to all his favorite places on you.

His voice was silky smooth in your ears as he uplifted you with how he had been thinking about you all day, and how he wanted to be with you when you weren’t around. It wasn’t Severus’ fault that you had a bad week, and it surely wasn’t all his fault that he was this turned on. The way he gripped your legs with his strong hands was an indicator that he wanted to go well into the night, which your tired state wasn’t a fan of. But you loved Severus, and you always wanted him to be happy and well pleased. So you figured you could handle a couple of coarse rounds to satisfy him.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Once access was granted, Severus leapt onto you without hesitation. A tornado of clothes being removed whirled around the room, your shirt and pants ended up on complete opposite sides of the room. Hot and unruly kisses were shared, marks were left on your necks, and no part of you went unattended.

Admittedly, the first orgasm was actually enjoyable. Severus’ fingers were knuckle deep in your needy cunt and pumping vigorously as he found all the best spots. The strenuous activity melted some of the week’s stress from your conscience, your mind being stripped of all your worry as it clouded with ecstasy. Severus thrived off of the moans and noises of delight that he was drawing out of your throat, perfecting his movements to give you an even stronger release. Severus worked you to your finish as you came around his fingers, slicking them with arousal and relief.

He left lazy kisses over your breasts while you took a moment to recover, preparing yourself for the next round that was undoubtedly on its way. Tiredness had plagued you long before Severus had even walked through the door, and you had suddenly been robbed of even more energy, so you were confident that you might not get a proper orgasm this second time. But the moment Severus slid you onto his dick and stretched your walls the way only he knew how to, you knew that you were going to cum whether you felt like you could handle it or not.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You loved seeing Severus so enraptured in waves of pleasure and gratification, but you were beyond fatigued. Still, you bounced up and down on his lap over and over again, your already sensitive clit throbbing with each rub of his fingers. Severus’ other hand guided your hip movements to meet the way he thrusted up into you, hitting your g-spot just right.

When you came this time, your sound of release was more of a strained cry than a content sound. Severus didn’t seem to notice, since he was too focused on the intoxicating feeling of filling you with his own finish. You popped off of him before he was even emptied out, the rest of his fluids landing on your inner thighs. You fell onto the bed next to him, your breathing much heavier than usual.

You were totally tuckered out with absolutely no hope of another round. Your muscles ached and your bones were wiped out. Although, you felt a queasy feeling of despair when you saw that familiar look of lust in Severus’ eyes. He spoke lowly, his voice echoing in your ringing ears.

“I’m not through with you yet, love.” He purred.

Usually that would’ve sent a whole mess of arousal through you, but you were too worn out. But Severus usually didn’t last more than three rounds, so this would for sure be the last one. You thought you could push through so he could at least get his release, but this third go round wasn’t a good feeling for you at all.

With your arms above your head and the pillowcase below your head in your fingers’ death grip, you turned your head to the side to fight through his persistent hard fucking into you. On a better day, you’d be all over this and relishing every moment. But now your eyes were screwed tightly shut in discomfort, for each time you opened them Severus would only be able to see the whites of your eyes. The thumping heartbeat in your ears was deafening and your entire body was stiff and rigid, but not in a good way. You wanted to tough it out so at least Severus could finish, but it was just too much for you tonight.

You had to tap out.

“Polyjuice!” You squeaked out, your voice raspy.

In an instant, you saw any expression of lust wiped straight from his face. He pulled out the millisecond that the word registered in his head, his face stricken with worry and concern at the first time use of your agreed safe word. Severus’ heart dropped at your whimpers of displeasure, his brain reeling and raking over what had gone wrong.

“[Y/N], what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked frantically.

“I-I just...”

Shaky breaths and uncomfortable whines were the only noises you could seem to make. You sat up from where you were laying down, bringing your knees to your chest and hiding your face as you began to cry. Your emotions were all over the place, and it didn’t help that you were overstimulated and overworked. Severus went to pull you to him, but withdrew his hand. Upsetting you further would absolutely crush him, but he needed to know that you were okay.

“Can I touch you, darling?” He whispered out.

The yowl of approval was enough for him to feel fine with carefully wrapping his hand under your arm and dragging you across the mattress to where he was kneeling on the middle of the bed. He pulled the covers over your skin to keep you from getting cold from the loss of heat from being active. You buried your head into his bare chest, your tears leaking and falling down his skin.

“I’m sorry, Sev. I’m really sorry.” You sobbed, your hair sticking to your sweaty skin.

“No, no, no. Don’t ever be sorry for telling me to stop when you’re not comfortable,” He reassured; “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

The shake of your head brought relief upon him, but he was still worried. He rocked you in his arms until your sobs died down enough to where you were coherent. Severus was getting ready to ask you once more what was wrong, shifting you so he could see your face. When moving you, his hand accidentally brushed against your swollen, sensitive clit and you wailed out pathetically. Severus’ pale face went even whiter.

“Oh, my love...I worked you too hard, didn’t I?” He queried.

Severus would always admit that sometimes he’d get into the zone and completely drown everything else out. He wouldn’t really be able to tell how hard he was pulling in and out. It was rare, but from time to time you’d have to ask him to soften his thrusts or slow his pace when he got too rowdy. But you had never asked him to stop completely until now. He feared that he had seriously pushed you over the edge this time.

“It’s not just that.” You confessed with a sniff.

Severus had drawn your head back to gaze into your bleary eyes. The tear tracks being swiped away with his thumbs as he cradled your face.

“What is it then, sweetheart?” He asked with wonder.

A fresh set of salty tears pooled and fell down your cheeks, but for a different reason.

“I’ve had a horrible week. Nothing has gone right,” You explained croakily; “I wanted to make you feel good and I thought it might make me feel better...but I’m just exhausted and I couldn’t handle it tonight.”

You fell apart into another set of choking sobs and gut wrenching cries, prompting Severus to bring you back into his chest. He stroked your skin and left kisses so light that they were ghostly.

“It’s alright, angel. I wish you had told me before that you weren’t feeling up to it,” He consoled; “You’re worth so much more than sex. I want you to tell me sooner next time if you’re uncomfortable.”

Your nod of understanding offered a wash of comfort over him that you were calming down steadily. He hated that this happened. He knew that was the whole reason for your established safe word for when things went south or things got dicey. He just never thought you’d ever have to use it. He felt absolutely terrible.

“I’m sorry, Sevvy. I really wanted you to get off, I just-”

“Please don’t apologize for this. This is my fault. I should’ve seen how tired you were and how I was being overly hard,” He said; “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

The sniffles from your nose had increased as you tried to flush down all the drainage from your crying. Your tears had stopped as you sat up from his body, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. The red blotches in your puffy eyes were pinging at Severus’ already guilty conscience. He saw the littered hickeys across your neck and breasts, and how your lips were swollen from his severe kisses. He had rocked your burnt out body to the max.

“I’ll tell you what. How about we go get cleaned up, and then we can get into bed. Then you can tell me about your week if so wish.” He suggested, cautiously guiding you off of the bed.

“I think I just want to get a bath and get some sleep.” You said, barely able to stand on your wobbly legs.

“Okay, darling. Whatever you want.” He smiled softly, hoping it’d offer you some kind of solace.

Severus ran you a hot bath, filling it with all of your favorite scents and smells. Your stance was still despite your shaking legs, and you seemed to be staring off into an endless trance. You slipped into the tub when it was ready, sinking down just below your nose under the bubbles. Normally, Severus would be sitting across from you or you’d be snuggled up on his lap, but he wanted you to have some space for a bit. You were honestly too tired to object.

He simply casted a charm to freshen himself up, finding and selecting his favorite pair of sweatpants and soft shirt for you to change into. Your eyes were closed, and you had just begun to drift off to sleep when he re-entered the bathroom, changed into some casual day time wear, despite how late it was.

“Here are some clean clothes for you, pretty girl.” He remarked, setting the folded sweats and shirt on the end of the tub for you to get when you got out.

You only gave a light nod as a response, your eyes following him as he stood awkwardly. He was unsure of what to do for you now. He thought that you might want the bedroom to yourself for the night, which was fine because he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he had pushed you so hard anyway. He placed himself on the floor by the tub, sitting with his legs criss crossed over one another. It was quiet in the room, the only sounds were the occasional gentle splash when you moved your leg or arm. His eyes were still full of worry, and he was kicking himself big time now.

“I’m so sorry...” He breathed out, running his fingertips dragging leisurely your damp arm that you had resting on the ledge of the bathtub; “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sev. I promise.” You responded, wishing he wouldn’t take this so hard.

When it came to you, Severus took everything to heart. There weren’t many things in the world that made his heart beat with a purpose. You were the single person that allowed him to want to get up in the mornings. The thought of hurting you was enough to break him down. If he could have it his way, you would be indescribably happy with every passing moment of every day. He never wanted you to feel anything other than joy.

But he knew that life would never allow it.

Your eyebrows dipped when you noticed his attire, wondering why he wasn’t in his own sleepwear. It was much too late for him to go anywhere.

“Where are you going?” You questioned, your voice thick with weary.

“I’m going to go back to the school. I have some grading to do.” He half-lied.

It was true that he did indeed have a stack of papers to be assessed, but that wasn’t the real reason why he felt like he wanted to leave. Severus Snape grading on a Friday night when he had the opportunity to be cuddled up with his lover? He’d choose you every time.

Now you felt bad for causing him to scurry off. You wanted him there with you regardless of what had happened.

“Severus,” You called out tenderly, reaching for his face; “I don’t want you to leave.”

A genuine look of doubt flashed over his features as his head lulled into your hand.

“I think it would be best if you got some good sleep tonight. I’ll just be in my office so if-”

“Stay with me. Please?” You requested, the thought of sleeping without him was disheartening.

A sigh of awe expelled from his chest. He couldn’t say no to your puppy eyes and slightly pouting lower lip.

“Okay, okay.” He agreed.

“I think that some boyfriend snuggles will make me feel a whole lot better.” You spoke rather cheekily.

He hummed affirmatively. The sound of nestling up with you was impossible to turn down. He took your hand from his face and kissed your palm gingerly, holding the warm skin to his lips for a brief moment. He eventually stood from the floor, but stopped when you held your arms up.

“Help me up?” You asked with the first genuine smile of the evening.

He chuckled, obliging and lifting you effortlessly from the tub. The warm towel was heavenly as you dried off, changing into the clothes that Severus had left for you. Severus went and changed as well, laughing to himself when he exited the closet to see you already curled up.

The sheets draped over him easily when he laid next to you, waiting for you to nuzzle up to him. He held you close and flush to him, thanking his lucky stars that you were okay.

“My sweet girl...” He hushed out, noting that you were just seconds away from falling asleep; “I love you.”

You mumbled out a sleepy “I love you” in return before drifting into a deep slumber to snooze off the night’s drama. Severus, as expected, didn’t sleep much that night to ensure that you were sleeping soundly and comfortably. He still felt dreadful, even after you had told him over and over that he didn’t hurt you. The weekend to follow was filled with Severus doting and cherishing over you every chance that he had, trying to make up for what had happened. You were the light of his life after all.

And he prayed that he’d never see that flame go out.

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x female reader #severus snape smut #harry potter #harry potter snape #harry potter fanfiction #alan rickman #seriouslysnape #anon request

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awanderingdeal · 3 years ago

Note

Hello there! Would you please consider writing a fic where maybe Leo or a fan wears a dress or paints his nails or something else feminine and gets bullied online so the entire team then starts wearing dresses out in retaliation? I think Leo is the perfect example of flipping the V to normative gender ideals

Hi! Thank you for this ask. I hope you don't mind, but I kind of took this as inspiration and ran with it. I used Finn just because it fits my own personal headcanons that he would be the one that would be a bit more adventurous fashion wise, although I definitely agree Leo is the nail painter in that relationship! I hope you like it!

Apologies for the excessive use of italics in this fic!

CW: food mentions, some swearing, implied Instagram bullying and a child with very mild illness (hay fever).

Rating: T

Let me know if you think I missed anything or need to change the rating.

All characters in this fic are from Sweater Weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

“Are you going to take that dress off?” June asked, blowing on the undercoat she’d just applied to her nails. Finn’s eyes dropped from the TV screen to the black fabric draping over his body. He brushed his fingers over the material, enjoying the texture of the sheer polka dots that decorated the dress. From afar, they were difficult to see, but at this distance they shined. His own little secret.

“No,” Finn replied, the word slipping from his mouth felt foreign, as if he hadn’t chosen to say it. “ Is that okay?”

“It’s generally considered polite to ask before you borrow people’s clothing, but sure, why not?” A loud cheer erupted from the TV notifying Finn the score on the basketball game he had been watching had changed. He desperately wanted to check it, but he continued to hold June’s gaze. “The Knicks,” June offered and Finn breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you going to wear it out later?” She didn’t wait for his reply, proffering two bottles of polish for Finn’s perusal, a redcurrant and a mauve.

“The red,” Finn decided after a beat. “No, I think I’ll get changed before we go to the theatre.”

“Alright then,” June hummed, glancing at her cell. “Logan is trying to call you, by the way.”

“Yes, my cell, I know exactly where that is,” Finn muttered to himself, stabbing at the remote to pause the TV. It took a few minutes of searching, the device hidden between the folds of the bean bag he was lounging on, but eventually Logan’s face was filling all 6.1 inches of the screen. “Lo!”

“Hey.”

Finn loved the greeting on Logan’s tongue, one of those that he never seemed to be able to stop his accent dripping through. Finn thought perhaps the sentiment was painted on his face, Logan peering at him curiously through the lens. “Isn’t that June’s dress?”

The dress. Finn had forgotten all about it. “Yes.”

He hadn’t meant for the reply to be said with such abruptness, but it felt good, all the tension coiling in his chest being released in the word.

Logan’s expression was challenging, similar to that June had given him earlier. “I was just going to say you look better in it.”

“Oh.”

June unfurled her legs from beneath her, throwing herself into view of the screen, her left hand held awkwardly in front of her. “I’m right here, Tremblay!”

***

“Love, you need to get out of the kitchen. You’re being very distracting.”

Finn frowned at Leo’s statement. “I’m not doing anything?” And for once, he wasn’t. He wasn’t trying to guess the weight of irrelevant objects. He wasn’t playing with the stray bits of dough Leo had left aside for decoration. He wasn’t even relaying facts about his current favourite interest. Finn was just watching.

Sometimes he liked to do that. He liked seeing Leo’s long fingers curled around the handle of the knife, his movements fluid and confident, his expression soft with quiet concentration. Occasionally, he’d cock his head, humming contemplatively and Finn could take the opportunity to offer his taste buds.

“It’s not a you problem, it’s a me problem,” Leo chuckled, setting the knife down on the chopping board. “I keep looking up and you’re just -” Finn followed Leo’s gaze as it wandered down to the exposed skin between Finn’s t-shirt and his skirt. “- I’m trying to meal prep and it’s going to take all week at this rate.”

The t-shirt had belonged to Logan, an old Harvard hockey throwback that had managed to make it through several wardrobe purges, so, whilst it was wide enough for Finn, the length was awkward. He hadn’t really considered his boyfriend’s reactions as he’d cut the item to fall several inches above his belly button, the crop looking far more purposeful than it previously had.

“Oh this old thing, I just threw it on,” Finn smirked, as he pushed off the counter he'd been leaning on. He rounded the island, stealing a carrot as he passed, until he planted himself in front of Leo. "Do you want help? It'd be quicker?"

"Now we both know neither of those things are true." Leo raised a critical eyebrow, his laughter smooth and sweet. He turned to face Finn more fully, his hand reaching to pass the forest green material of Finn's skirt through his fingers. "I like this colour on you."

"It has pockets! I totally get why Lily's always shouting about them. They're very convenient." Finn shoved his hands in the well-concealed pocket, pulling his cell from its depths. "See."

"Nice," Leo said, his smile making the edges of his face crinkle. "How about you let me finish up here and then we can find Lo and get his opinion on this outfit?"

"Fine," Finn groaned, resisting the temptation to draw Leo in a hug, and perhaps something more. "I'm gonna go and look over that report the accountant sent over. Do you want me to check yours over too?"

"Please," Leo nodded, his smile growing wider. "You're the best."

"You feed me, I make sure you don't get arrested, that's what relationships are all about, right?"

"Right," Leo ran his fingers over the skirt one last time and stepped back to put some space between them. Finn turned to leave, barely getting a few paces in before Leo called him. "Wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Just one kiss now would be okay."

Finn shook his head, letting Leo draw him back in with a chuckle. Leo's hands, always warm, settled on Finn's waist and he leaned down to press their lips together.

***

Finn winced as Aveline sneezed again, the forceful burst of air covering his sweater in droplets. He felt sorry for her; she was struggling with a bout of hay fever that was making her red-nosed and irritable, but the sweater was one of Finn’s favourites. A vintage, hand knitted blue thing he’d found in a thrift store in Cambridge for an absolute steal. Back then, it had been the scene of Bambi and his friends on it that had grasped Finn’s attention, however, he’d come to love it for its perfect fit and the fact it never failed to spark a conversation.

“Harzy, thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” Finn tried not to let his relief show too much seeing Kris’ approach, his arms outstretched to gather his daughter. “I can’t even put her down to go to the bathroom at the moment without her screaming.”

Finn chuckled, holding a wriggling Aveline tighter to stop her launching herself before her father was close enough. “Papa!” she cried, the exclamation melded neatly into a large yawn.

“Come, mon chou,” Kris soothed, letting Aveline bury her face into the crook of his neck and playing a gentle pattern with his fingers over her back. “Let’s go and see if Vroom-vroom has any magic up his sleeve, ey? He always knows what to do.”

“Vroom-vroom?” Finn whispered the question.

“Sergei,” Kris explained with a gleeful smile despite the tiredness etched into his face. He shifted Aveline into a more comfortable position. “Thanks again for holding her.”

“Anytime.”

Finn had barely been alone in the Dumais’ second living room for a minute when Katie came crashing in. He wondered briefly if he should redirect her back to the other room where everybody was gathered, the thought quickly interrupted by Katie tugging on the hem of his skirt. “Can you spin again? Please?”

Unable to resist her large doe eyes, Finn twirled for her, his skirt swirling and billowing around him until he began to go dizzy.

“Encore! Encore!”

Finn didn’t need Logan around to translate that for him, he’d seen enough Broadway shows to understand the request.

“No more, Katie Belle. I’m going to puke,” Finn laughed, lifting Katie into his arms. “You’re growing too quickly! I swear you were only this big the last time I saw you,” he teased, spreading the thumb and index finger of his free hand a few inches apart.

“I’ll be as tall as you soon!” Katie giggled, patting Finn on his head.

“Then you can carry me,” Finn teased. He was just reaching to bop Katie on the nose when the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter closing grabbed his attention.

“Logan!” Katie gasped, struggling in Finn’s arms for a second like little Aveline had done. “Put me down.”

Finn obliged, watching Katie run toward Logan with a fond smile.

“Did you fix it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Ouais,” Logan nodded, “I gave it back to Maja.”

“Merci, merci, merci!” Katie wrapped her arms around Logan’s hips in a hug before running off, presumably to find Maja.

Finn crossed the room, opening his arms for Logan to walk into. He rested his chin on Logan’s head, breathing in the familiar smell of his shampoo. “What were you up to?”

“Just taking a photo of two of my favourite people,” Logan mumbled into Finn’s chest.

“Can I see?”

“Oui, it’s very cute. ” Logan stepped back, pulling the photo up onto the screen. It was a nice one, both Finn and Katie’s head tipped back slightly with bright laughter. Finn tracked down the photo, Katie’s legs clinging to his waist where the faux leather skirt started. He breathed in, filling his lungs with air and then expelling it quickly.

“Post it.”

Logan looked at him, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Not really, but I’m fed up with changing my clothes all the time and I’m surprised I haven’t been papped anyway. I’d rather do this on my own terms. It’s a fucking skirt, it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Tell me to do it again,” Logan reached out a hand, squeezing gently as Finn took it.

“Post it.”

***

“Stop reading,” Leo sighed, plucking Finn’s cell from his hand.

Finn matched his sigh, burying his head into his hands. He didn’t need to look at the screen anyway, the words burned into his eyes. How anybody had looked at a photo of two people, one of whom was a child, laughing and had churned out hatred was mystifying to him. Finn had been expecting that though, he’d been around long enough to know there were some assholes out there. When he’d replied to one of the nicer ones he hadn’t really considered how he would feel about that going viral. About becoming the face of something he hadn’t really asked for.

Roaringlion17: Harzy! This fit is spectacular, I love the skirt <3 I just wanted to ask if you are trans and what pronouns you would like us to use?

OfficialFOHara: @roaringlion17 Thank you! He/him pronouns are great! I’m not trans. I just think it’s dumb that boys can’t wear skirts. Or dresses for that matter. I like clothes, not boxes.

The reply had now been featured on every gossip column possible and was beginning to filter into more esteemed news too. One of them had even called him, the face of a revolution, which had made Finn cringe. He supposed it was better than the hateful slurs his PR team were battling to keep off the photo.

“Hey,” Logan took the seat next to Finn where he’d slumped himself at the dining table. “Look at me.” Finn lifted his head, meeting Logan’s eyes, the deep green something he wanted to get lost in right now. He thought Logan was going to ask for the thousandth time if Finn wanted him to delete it, but all he got was the fierce, determined gaze Logan sported on the ice. “This is going to pass. Tomorrow, somebody will cheat on somebody and you will be old news. Do you want to see something?”

Finn nodded. He didn’t know what he was consenting to, but he trusted Logan to make it something that would make him smile. Leo dragged another of the chairs around to sit on Finn’s left hand side, setting his confiscated cell in front of him, the Instagram app open to Thomas’ profile. Logan leaned forward, tapping on the latest photo.

Thomas’ smile was wide as he sat on a window sill, kicking out the long zebra print skirt cloaking his legs. The caption underneath read ‘You’re just jealous that I wear it better than you! #boyswearskirtstoo’

“That’s -”

“Wait a second,” Logan reached for the phone again, setting it down with a picture of James’ visible. He was wearing an ochre coloured corduroy skirt that clearly belonged to Lily, the fabric straining on thighs. I’m feeling myself in this, tbh. Please hold whilst I order one in my size #boys wearskirtstoo.

Finn snorted, the sound wet with the tears he was struggling to hold back.

The hashtags kept coming.

Cap and Loops in their respective jersey’s tucked into pleated skirts. These Lions know fashion is not gendered #boyswearskirtstoo

Ollie in a shimmering gold knee length piece. Shine bright! #boyswearskirtstoo

Nado, Kuny, Smitty and Kane, arms slung around one another's shoulders, all wearing varying shades of pink. On Wednesdays, we wear pink #boyswearskirtstoo. Finn would bet good money that Kuny was behind that caption.

Dumo, Sergei and their wives, alongside their troupe of children, each one of them wearing a different coloured tutu. Dumo had opted to just include the hashtag, or rather his social media team had, because the man himself most definitely did not know how to upload the photo.

Kasey and Natalie looked effortlessly cool dressed in white tennis skirts and floral bomber jackets. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about? #boyswearskirtstoo

Alex was wearing a very similar black skirt to Finn's in his photo. Who wore it better? #boyswearskirtstoo #thatsmylittlebrother

“He’s an idiot, but I love him,” Finn laughed wetly.

“There’s more,” Logan smirked as he tapped at the screen again, almost brimming with an excited energy. He placed the cell back down, leaving his hand to block the next photo a little longer. Finn grabbed the device as soon as Logan revealed the image.

It was perfect.

Leo and Logan lounged on the sofa, a little further apart than they would normally sit. Leo clutching his favourite mug and Logan with sketchpad in hand. They both looked easy in their outfits, as if the skirts were a part of them. Leo’s was long, hitting just above his ankle, a navy lining coated in a tulle that was embellished with celestial bodies. Logan was looking at the camera, his eyes just visible under the brim of his cap. His skirt was shorter, the denim flaring over his thick thighs. In this house we respect people’s right to wear whatever the fuck they want #boyswearskirtstoo

Finn stopped trying to fight the tears, letting the moisture well in his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked out, pushing himself from his chair. Leo and Logan had their arms around him before he could ask. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” He couldn’t seem to make the words stop, his body shaking with sobs, his boyfriend’s arms remaining sure around him until Finn wiped at his face and muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Leo swept his thumb over Finn’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “What can we do? What do you need?”

Finn let out a heavy breath, leaning into Logan’s hold. “I think I want to send a thank you to the group chat and then snacks and cuddles? I can deal with the world tomorrow.”

“Okay then, snacks and cuddles. We deal with the world tomorrow.”

#finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #rating: t #cw: food #cw: implied bullying #cw: swearing #cw: minor illness #sweater weather #lumosinlove

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lovieebby · 4 years ago

Text

The Crying Game

Poly!Oscar Issac x Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Summary: On a cold winter night, when Oscar’s sleep comes and goes, him and Pedro find themselves thinking differently when you cry.

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+!!!! SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!! ddlg themes, crying kink, kinda dub con if you rlly squint, vaginal penetration, bodily fluids, oral/m receiving, heavy dirty talk, poly relationship

Note: Meda and I where talking about me touching base on how my theory of pedro (and oscar) having a crying kink, so here it is! Hope you love it from the depths of my horny corner! AND THANK YOU @pinksdaydream FOR HELPING ME THIS MADE IT 1000 TIMES BETTER!!!! 😩💞

In the large king bed with the heater ridding the cold breeze of the outside snow, Oscar awoke to the glowing moon. His arm was draped over your waist while your legs tangled with Pedro’s, comfortable and calm in the meer hours of the night. Oscar had been tossing and turning most of the night yet didn’t realize he fell asleep when he woke up with his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

He felt his lashes flutter against the whisps of stray hairs from your now loose bun that had held your hair before you fell in your own sleep. He kept quiet for some time, listening to yours and Pedro’s breathing in hopes it would lull him back to sleep, but his mind and body were wide awake. Nights like these usually consisted of him sneaking out of the warm bed and creeping down stairs to the at home gym in the garage, though something different stirred awake. A little voice chanting erotic words and thoughts as you shifted unknowingly into his hardened member.

With slow and gentle movements, Oscar rolled you completely to your belly and propped your hips up slightly as he crawled behind your sleeping form. You groaned softly, making Oscar grin lazily when your legs spread to brase yourself. Even in your sleep you know your daddy’s touch and the thought made Oscar’s chest swell with pride at his little princess getting ready for him in her sleep.

He brought the blanket down just a tad, letting it lay on the back of your knees and pulling your nightie up your back. Your body still breathed evenly, sleeping peacefully which brought Oscar to spit loudly on your winking lips, bending impossibly close to your pussy to do it once more. He licked his spit through your folds and gathered it at your clenching hole as you mewled brokenly in the fluffy pillows.

You tried to stretch as Oscar folded his pants down, lining his cock up quickly to your entrance before you awoke. The bed dipped with his knees, restling the placement of the blanket and waking Pedro up with a quick intake of air. It took him a moment to understand the situation, but soon aware of what Oscar was doing by the time his cock was seethed completely into your cunt. Pedro’s smile was small and pleasant, watching Oscar fuck you awake. His hand came to lay lazily ontop of your head and brushed the hairs covering your face as your brows furrowed in confusion.

Oscar was slow with his thrusts, but pushing deep within you, making your hips tilt upwards. He felt your walls constrict and relax in one flush movement, your cunt spooked at first but realizing who and what had entered, relaxing its velvet walls around Oscar’s thick cock.

You muttered something under your breath as your heavy eyes opened slowly, Pedro being the first person you see while your body jults and withers. You began to pant in pleasure when your mind caught up with the real world, Pedro’s warm palm pressing on your cheek as you moaned brokenly.

“Someone’s awake,” Pedro cooed, his voice thick with sleep, his eyes trailing to Oscar’s hands fisting your night dress.

“G’mornin’ baby girl,” Oscar grunted, his hips stilling to your ass only to pick up his pace.

You grunted lowly, pouting your lips as Oscar slid out then pushing deep in a slow thrust. His breath was hot and shallow on your overly warm skin, sending your senses haywire at the sudden pleasure.

“P-papa?” You mewled, nose scrunched as your palms came to rub your eyes though Oscar’s thrusts knocked your head closer to the bed, “Daddy!”

Pedro chuckled at your squeal as Oscar hummed in delight with a lazy smirk. You hiccuped with a cry, your arms pushing you up to see your lovers clearly but Oscar and Pedro both had the thought of keeping you down. Pedro’s hand holding your shoulder blades down while Oscar held your hips closer to his. You cried again, mumbling incoherent words as a plea.

“Up! Let me up!” You cried in the sheets, nuzzling your nose in them.

“Jus’ wait baby— Don’t this feel good?” Oscar grunted, thrusting his cock in and stilled to walk closer to you by his knees, making his presence known. The pressure made your eyes roll back with a short hitch of breath.

“S-so go-good daddy…” You panted as you looked at Pedro, your eyes gloomy and teary eyed.

Pedro’s gut dropped, and not the kind where he felt guilty or bad, it was a raw feeling that he’d do anything and everything to see you cry, whether it was for him or Oscar. Pedro released your shoulders and sat up quickly to grab Oscar’s attention.

“Look look look.” He whispered, pulling your hair away from your soft and drowsy face, “Look at that…”

You sniffled when Oscar peeked at your damp cheeks and heavy eyes, your pants deep and erratic as you blew them into the sheets. He groaned at the sight of you. Your hair messy and untamed with your cheeks pressed to the soft bed as your body slumped in relief when he ceased his thrusts. Oscar quickly pulled out and turned you around, your back thudding on the bed in a bounce as you squealed in surprise.

“God fucking damnit princess.” He said, perching your legs up to your chest as you looked down at his gleaming cock.

Pedro whistled lowly, drawing your attention to your Papa before Oscar plummeted back into you. This time he could see every inch of you perfectly, your pussy fluttering to be filled and the sheer fabric that covered your chest that did little to conceal anything. Pedro could see it too, itching to rip your nighty straight down your chest to fondle with them, pitching and pulling until you come on Oscar’s cock.

Before you could count to three, Daddy’s hands were wiping your tears with a teasing coo, while Papa stretched the fabric of your dress down your chest to make your breasts exposed to them. You gasped and whined at their pulling and pushing, feeling like a bone for two hungry dogs. You cried again while your Daddy’s cock relentlessly pounded into you with need as your Papa twisted and tugged on your peaked nipples.

The fingers, cock and dirty whispers were too much. It was a toe curling burn that crept up your spine and throughout your ligaments; a coil that was about to snap. You couldn’t help but to bend your back into a painful arch and beg loudly for your release.

“P-please!” You moaned, thrusting your hips up to meet Oscar as your body ached for anything. A shove, a touch, a smack. Anything would be perfect to your release. “Daddy please!”

You looked at Oscar as you pleaded, but before he could answer, you turned your head to Pedro, screaming his name without a care of how pathetic your voice sounded.

“What do you need sweetie?” Pedro asked, coming closer to pull your head in his lap while he sat up against the headboard, “Is daddy and papa not giving you everything you want?” Oscar chimed, his warm hand coming to rest on the base of your neck.

“N-no! I-I have to cum! Please let me cum Daddy!” You defended, tilting your head back and forth to beg to your lovers. “Papa!”

Oscar moaned as fresh tears fell down your puffy cheeks, his cock bouncing in the warm walls of your cunt as his bollocks tightened. He was ready to blow his release, but stopped his movements and pulled out, making you whine as you cried harder. He sat back on his heels with a groan, his hand running over your slickened folds and stretched cunt.

“What about Papa? Hmm baby? You gonna give him some love before you cum?” He cooed with a pout, his head tilting as you nodded your head fast.

It was a perfect way to prolong his release, and Pedro knew it too. An all knowing smirk graced Pedro’s lips as he bit his tongue. His cock was impossibly hard in his fleece pants, hanging heavy on his thick thighs, clenching every moment you moaned and mewled.

“You look so pretty on Papa’s cock princess. Go show me and Papa yeah?” Oscar’s words were hypnotic, dripping from his lips like honey as he persuaded you.

He gripped your chin gently, rubbing your rosey bottom lip with his thumb, entranced by the thought of you perfectly seated on Pedro’s cock. You moved your head quickly when Pedro’s hands came down to rub the rounds of your breasts, your cheek laying lazily on his bicep as you looked at his darkened eyes and crazed peppered hair swirled around his beautiful face.

“May I have your cock Papa?” You asked sweetly, jutting your lips as you rose your chest for him to grope you more.

“Ah, using your manners? Such a good little girl I see.” Pedro adored, your eyes watery and wide while your lips pouted, he couldn’t say no. He’d be a fool if he did.

He didn’t wait for you to respond, hooking his arms under yours and lifting you up to sit in his lap. His legs where spread out before your ass landed on his thighs. You wiggled back, cooing and mewling as your Papa fumbled to barely pull his pants down to forcefully place you on his cock. It was a different feeling than Oscar— uncut and thicker, fulfilling and smooth. Pedro’s manhood stretched you further and made you squeal and squirm, him jabbing and demanding at your cervix, unlike Daddy’s who sweetly kisses your endings.

“Show Papa what you can do, let Daddy see it.” Oscar grunted, laying on his elbows as he gripped his cock, letting you and Pedro watch him pleasure himself at the sight of you two.

Pedro was the first to move as you drooled over Oscar’s show, watching intently as his big hands covered his slippery cock. Your breath hitched with Pedro’s fast and deep thrusts, your hips working in speed to match your Papa’s momentum. This had to be one of the favored mornings, your cunt onto his cock while you watched Daddy fumble with his, it made you moan louder with your ass bouncing harder on Pedro. And the man loved every minute of it, watching your eyes gloss as you watched Oscar and your sweet juices coating yourself along with him. It made a lewd squelch, making Pedro pant his moans as he squeezed your waist to keep your bouncing hard and deep.

You were repeatedly being impaled upon Pedro’s cock, it tore you in two so deliciously. There was a burn from him stretching you but it added on to the pleasurable ache between your legs. You were starting to lose yourself in the pleasure, your hips starting to stutter. Whines starting leaving your mouth, you didn’t think you could handle it anymore. You were still reeling from Oscar, the way he pushed into your unguarded walls to right now with how tempting he looks. Your body was buzzing as Pedro started taking over.

“Can’t handle it, Peach?” Pedro mocked as he flipped you onto your back, your movements too slow for his liking. He slid back into you and started pounding hard and fast, making you yelp as you covered your mouth. You were scared of the sounds that would come out if you didn’t.

You used your other hand to press it against Pedro’s tummy, trying to get him to let up on his pace.

“Uh uh, baby. You can handle Papa, show me how much of a good girl you can be and take it.” Oscar said as Pedro pushed your hand away.

“No! It’s too big.” You whined, making both Oscar and Pedro laugh at you, though the laughter soon turned into guttural groans as more tears cascaded from your eyes. Both men didn’t think they would be able to last much longer.

From the side view of Oscar to the way Pedro pounded his cock, you could help but mewl and shake as you held your legs up to your chest. The tilt of your hips drove Pedro’s cock deeper as your fingernails created half moons on your soft skin. You clenched and pulsed around you Papa, your eyes becoming blurry with tears while your pretty little head fogged. You couldn’t hold your delayed release even if you wanted to, it came quick and hard, making your mouth drop open in a silent squeal. Your tongue jutted out slightly as your eyes crossed.

“Ooh yeah baby— Fuck! Su-ch a good girl!” Pedro gasped, smirking with an open mouth as he imprinted your fucked face in his memories.

Oscar released his hand from his own cock like it had burnt him, panting as his member flexed for more. The sight was beautiful; your curvy body bent deliciously, your face flushed as you looked at the beds canopy with your mouth wide. The veins in your neck protruding out, blood pumping quickly before you finally spoke out.

“Fuck!” You squealed brokenly, the tears finally falling down your sweet cheeks. “More more more!”

Your mumbled words were your lovers dream, a blissed demand that any man would oblige. Pedro groaned loudly, shifting his hips deeper into your milking walls as they enchanted him to stay put. Oscar watched with awe as he quickly moved to you, his knees quaking as he did. He placed his cock head close to your mouth and you didn’t think twice as you opened your mouth quickly to trap his head in your warm awaiting mouth.

“Is this what you want sweetheart? Huh?” Oscar asked, Daddy shuttered, his eyes fluttering closed as he smiled wide like a cat that got the cream, “Both of your pretty holes filled?”

“Look so pretty baby…” Pedro mumbled with a curt grunt, pulling and pushing slowly to keep himself from blowing his warm seed into your inviting canal.

You rose your neck, letting Daddy slide easily in your throat. Small mewls and moans were gurgled around him as your eyelids hooded over your blown out pupils, attempting to smile lazily around him. Oscar fucked your face, slow and agonizing at the first few thrusts, then became erratic and aggressive like he was claiming every inch of your mouth. The sight persuaded Pedro to move, captured by yours and Oscar’s grunts and muffled moans. The feeling of Pedro invading your warm walls and Oscar nudging the back of your throat had you close to a second orgasm.

Pedro could tell you were close by the way you were starting to close your thighs, a clear sign that you wanted more but didn’t know how to ask for it.

“Do you want another, peach? Is that what you’re asking for?” Pedro asked. He enunciated every word with a thrust, making you squeal.

“Ask nicely, you’re so good at using your manners peachy girl.” Oscar said, forcing himself deeper into your warm throat.

You loved hearing his grunts, sending your nerves closer and closer to another release, as did Pedro’s unrelenting pace. The pad of Pedro’s thumb found your swollen and puffed clit, the texture of his thumb made you jerk at the sudden contact. He started rubbing in a circular motion, the build up didn’t take long; stars bursting behind your eyes as your back arched off the bed. Oscar came with an erratic thrust of his hips just as Pedro did, filling your greedy holes with bliss.

You eagerly gulped down all that your Daddy had to offer with weak whimpers as your cunt filled to the brim with your Papa’s hot cum. You willingly and joyfully took every drop your lovers gave, filling you up sweetly and beautifully while you panted and moaned.

The moment Oscar released his grip from your tangled hair, you gasped loudly, your heart pounding in astonishment of the lewdness you succumbed to. You didn’t regret a minute of the rough and passionate fucking, you loved every single thing about and secretly hoped for more. But the flushed cheeks and heavy eyes of Oscar told you that the silver haired fox was done for the moment.

You panted with a soft smile as Oscar slumped back on his heels while Pedro’s soft hands caressed your soft tummy, pushing gently to watch his release seep out of your puffed folds. He groaned again, rough and loud, his cheeks puffing in a long exhale while his eyes locked on his cock leaving your body as well as his seed.

It was a dream come true before your friend the sun rose with its bright rays of life, warming the cold ground and awakening the winter birds. But little did the sun know, you danced with the full moon in the most luxurious way.

Taglist will be added in a reblog!!!

#poly!oscar x pedro fic #poly!oscar x pedro x reader fic #poly!oscar x pedro x reader smut #poly!oscar x pedro x reader fanfic #Oscar issac fanfic #oscar issac smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #poly!oscar x pedro x reader fanfiction #poly!oscar x pedro x reader smut fic

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octopodeez · 4 years ago

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The Devil in Your Bed Pt. 1 (NSFW Edward Kenway x Reader)

He fights like a devil dressed as a man, and fucks like one, too except not yet bc in this chapter he’s stressed af

WC: 2125

Edward looks at you as if he’s never seen a woman before, and you know immediately he’s married. His eyes never stay in one place. They dart around your body comparatively, and you can only imagine what’s going through his mind. The image of her is surely floating behind you as he takes note of a small scar she doesn’t have, a freckled shoulder where hers is bare, lashes that don’t curl quite as much. You’re different, and he’s trying so hard to pretend it doesn’t shake him.

He waits for you to undress, and while you consider making a sly remark, you decide this is not the time or place or man for any of that. Not if you want to fuck him, anyways, and Jaysus, you do. He’s a devastating specimen, with a thick Welsh accent and smile that could end you, and you’ll never forgive yourself if you scare him off. So, you bite your tongue and tug at the ribbons of your stays, working quickly in case he starts to lose his nerve.

As you’re busy shedding the layers of skirts and petticoats and everything that makes you a proper lady, he casts his tunic to the side. It’s a simple motion, albeit somewhat infuriating that he gets to use such little effort while you struggle in a sea of faded cotton, but the thought is quickly forgotten when you get a good look at him. Edward is a masterpiece, all tan and smooth, save for a tattoo of a woman on his bicep. The wife, most likely. Something he surprised her with before he left—a promise to stay true and come home once he had the means to give her a good life. Damn privateers are all the same.

Edward has never felt more exposed. God is watching him right now, he’s sure of it. Not even gone a month and already he’s laying with another woman. Or trying to, anyways. His guilt is crippling and the rum doesn’t help, but he’s determined to see this through. Johnson and Fletcher—or was it Williams and Smythe?—shoved him your way, and who is he to say no? He’s in desperate need of a little respect and they’re the type of men worth impressing. There are certainly worse ways to earn it than fucking a whore.

This is for his career, he reassures himself. This just brings him one step closer to the better life he promised Caroline—Caroline who isn’t even his anymore. But he’s not ready to admit that yet.

God continues to watch.

You’re naked and chilly and his hesitation is beginning to lose its charm. Edward still has his britches on, so you decide it’s time to move things along. Reaching for the candle by the bedside, you offer a coquettish smile, which he half-heartedly returns, and take a last look at his chiseled body. His sandy hair. His handsome face. Perhaps bedding him in the darkness isn’t such a bad thing after all. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s a quality about him that overwhelms you. It’s sexy, alluring, and driving you mad.

You lick your fingers and pinch the flame out. A silly parlor trick you learned ages ago that, for some reason, men found irresistible. Edward is no exception. His demeanor shifts now that he can hide behind the darkness. He’s more confident now and able to confirm your suspicions that yes, his hands are good for more than tying knots on a ship. Even so, the thought doesn’t escape you that maybe he’s simply having an easier time pretending you’re her. It’s not the best feeling in the world, but it’s one you’ve grown accustomed to—a hazard of sleeping with sailors. Their hearts always, always, always belong to someone else first.

His trousers drop unceremoniously, and he pushes you to the bed. It isn’t quite the reveal you would have hoped for, but the silhouette of his cock standing at attention is still something to behold. You bite your lip at the sight of it. It’s built like the rest of him, defined and perfect, with a slight curve. A familiar emptiness grows inside you; a ravenous hunger that can only be sated right here and now with that, so you reach for him, suddenly feeling more like a snake than a woman, sexy and slithering effortlessly towards a frightened little bilge rat.

A frightened little bilge rat. You purse your lips and sigh, choosing to rest your hand on his hip rather than his cock. Even the married ones have relaxed by now, but Edward remains tense. Snake or woman, it’s killing the mood. You need your men eager.

“Edward,” you say, “we don’t have to do this.”

“What?”

“We don’t have to do this,” you repeat gently. “We can just sit here for a while and I’ll make a big show of wobbling down the stairs to make it believable for your men.”

He looks offended.

“Is something not to your liking?” he asks, making a gesture to his nether region. You don’t miss the genuine surprise in his voice, and it occurs to you that this is perhaps the first time a woman has rejected him like this. He’s a handsome man from a small town with all his teeth intact, not to mention the ruggedness about him that especially must have attracted the wealthier girls, bitter in their arranged marriages.

“You seem hesitant, is all.”

“I’m no virgin if that’s what you’re getting at.”

He sounds like a pouting child, and you try your hardest not to giggle. God, he’s cute, which is starting to make things complicated.

“No, that’s not what I’m getting at. But even if you were—”

“I’m not.”

“—even if you were,” you say again, ignoring him, “there’s no shame in that. I wouldn’t mind getting first crack at a man looking the way you do.”

Edward blinks as he processes what you said, and then smiles. A genuine smile that makes his eyes twinkle, followed by a lighthearted chuckle, and then a kiss. It’s a fluid motion. He leans down and presses his rough lips to yours, tenderly, gently, softly—much softer than a man whose breath tastes so heavily of rum should be capable of. And then you remember: he’s married. He’s married and you don’t win a wife with harsh kisses. Edward hasn’t been at sea long enough to forget how to be…sweet.

He grazes his tongue along your jaw, all the way down to the crook of your neck and sucks at the skin. His arm shifts as he pumps at his cock in long, deliberate movements. You try to get a small peek at what could only be the most erotic sight you’d ever see, but he’s relentless in his sucking and keeps you pressed firmly to the mattress. You’re growing wetter and much more impatient.

“Edward,” you sigh. He makes a muffled noise of acknowledgement against your neck. “Fuck me.”

Edward freezes. To you, it’s brief. To him, it’s an eternity. His brain is overloaded with the breathy sound of your demand: fuck me. He can’t recall if he ever heard Caroline swear. She was smart as a whip and much too worldly to need words like those—it was what made him fall in love with her to begin with—but god, did he miss the dirt that came with girls who said things like fuck me while they spread their legs and beckoned him in.

Caroline is gone, and even though he still hasn’t fully accepted it, he knows it’s true. Caroline is gone, off to live the life her parents wanted, and though it hurts, Edward knows she deserves better than him, anyways. Caroline is gone, and so is the part of him who loved her—the part who wanted to have a wife and a family. Caroline is gone, and though she left a gaping hole, he’s more than happy to cauterize the wound with pretty girls like you who say fuck me.

And so he does.

Edward’s teeth sink into your neck and you gasp, surprised at the sudden change. There’s a beast inside him that you didn’t see before, and it’s all rabid fangs and claws that aim to mark every last inch of you. He’s the impatient one, now, and doing everything he can to be inside you, and Jaysus; you’re more than happy to oblige.

“Hands and knees,” he grunts, already gripping your waist to flip you over.

He’s radiating that special feral type of energy that builds within sailors when they’re out at sea. Adventure boils the blood and—smack. Edward slaps your rear with an open palm, leaving behind a wonderfully stinging sensation and (probably) a bright red mark. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling, and then you smile and make a show of arching your back more.

Edward exhales sharply through his nose as he admires you. Farmgirls and small-town heiresses were all so shy, many of them never doing more than lifting their petticoats—granted, that had its own appeal, especially behind taverns and barns when their husbands or fathers could round the corner at any moment—but never has he seen someone so on display. He spanks you again, harder this time, and bites his lip at the slickness of your sex.

“Ready?” He feels stupid asking. Your ass is in the air and your pussy is dripping—of course you are, but he was raised proper. He always asks.

“Yes,” you whine. You’re aching all over and if he doesn’t do something you might explode from the sheer frustration.

He rubs the tip of his cock over your opening, marveling at the feeling before pushing himself inwards. Edward lets out a long, breathy groan as he does, inhaling only when he reaches his hilt. Fuck.

“Fuck,” you hiss his thoughts out loud and drop your head. Your shoulder blades look so lovely from his perspective. They tense and then relax as you adjust to him; that slight curve of his cock already doing wonders to your body. Edward places his hand right where they meet, partly to steady himself as he begins to thrust, and partly out of admiration. You’re a stunning, sexual creature who could be with any of the other sailors who leered at you back at the pub, but you chose him. Sheep farmer, Edward Kenway, who had spent barely a month at sea.

He wants to be slow so he can enjoy this, but the way you shift and groan and whimper is too much—and frankly, its been far too long since he’s had someone. It’s a crying fucking shame that he’s a human man, but fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel incredible.

Edward moves his hand to the scruff of your neck and pushes you down further into submission, and Jaysus, you love it, you love it, you love it so much. Your head is smashed against the mattress and it feels so delightfully dirty, you don’t care that you can hardly breathe. He thrusts harder and you moan louder.

The pad of Edward’s finger finds your clit, and you cry out in surprise. It was so rare to find a man who actually knew where it was and what to do with it, but he knows what he’s doing. He knows what patterns to rub and what spots make your toes curl the most. You curse. You say every dirty word you know, and maybe invent a few, too, as he keeps thrusting and rubbing and—

He spanks you again. He fucking spanks you again, and you’re certain the force made your soul leave your body and ricochet against the walls. And then:

“You like that, eh? Such a dirty little thing.” You don’t have the breath to spare in order to ask him to keep talking, but did it matter? His voice is nowhere near as confident as his words. It shakes as he tries so hard to keep himself together, but you can feel the sweat on his hands and loss of rhythm in his thrust. He’s close.

Edward’s fingers abandon your clit as he scrambles to pull out of you. He nearly falls to the ground as he does, but manages to regain his balance just in time to spill all over your back—all over your shoulder blades that rise and fall so beautifully as you pant. He grunts as he does. It’s loud and guttural, and you’d do anything in the world to hear it again, but fuck. You’re nowhere close to climax.

And he’s already getting dressed.

Damn privateers really are all the same.

This can also be found on Ao3! Kudos are always appreciated (and if you MAYBE wanted to leave a comment, that’d be pretty cool too). Find it here: (x)

#edward kenway #assassin's creed #matt ryan #assassin's creed black flag #assassins creed #edward kenway x reader #reader insert #edward kenway imagine #assassins creed imagine #acbf #edward imagine

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danger-xylophones · 4 years ago

Text

Ice General Part 4 (Rex x reader)

{masterlist}

Warnings: my attempt at writing sparring, female pronouns...that should be it

<- Previous

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“Gentlemen, set your blasters to stun.”

Never before had such a command, given simply and without any emphasis, sent such unbridled bewilderment shooting down his spine. It caused the captain to freeze for a moment as his fellow clones wasted no time following the Ice general’s order before they collectively pulled on their helmets and took up their stance-aiming for the general. “Ready?” Came Y/n’s smooth voice once more, prompting Rex to jump into action and follow the lead of Commander Fritz who stood across the makeshift battlefield from him. His stance was wide, solid, evidence of the years of training he and his fellow clones had gone through-he seemed oddly calm for someone about to open fire on their own general. “Begin!” And all hell broke loose. Fritz, Empio, Jekyll, Hyde, and Codex opened fire immediately giving Y/n barely any time to react. But react she did, nonetheless. In one fluid movement, she snatched up her lightsabers and ignited the blades before flicking away the blaster bolts like it was nothing, and aiming them back at the soldiers who quickly dodged. Phantom, Boom, and Nexus took a second before catching on to add to the growing chaos. Rex was still lagging behind. This was...an unusual style of sparring for the man.

“Ay, Captain Rex, you might want to wake up!” Bolt’s perpetual sing-song voice called out to compel Rex to get his act together just in time to flinch out of the way of stun blast zooming towards him. With a readying shake of his head, Rex resolved to at least participate even if he thought this was borderline dangerous. He aimed and fired at the general’s exposed back. She reacted sharply, turning on a dime to slash at the ring formed by the stun shot and sending it into the dirt before whirling around to counter another one and another one. It was here that the circle formed by the clones began to morph and evolve-steadily increasing the pressure on the general. Ice reacted accordingly by growing more and more mobile which made it more difficult for the clone fence to take on a solid and maintainable shape. Without warning, Fritz, Jekyll, and Hyde dove for Ice-catching her, the shinies, and the captain off guard. Y/n was quick to deactivate her sabers so she could dive out of the way of them. Codex, who seemed to figure out what the three older clones were trying to set up, signaled to Nexus and began to fire on Y/n who was forced to twist impossibly to get out of the way of the onslaught of stun shots. Phantom and Boom moved in next but they were lacking coordination and their shots began getting in the way of each other. Rex was about to whistle to get their attention so he could help them with their sloppy form when Empio beat him to it.

“Phantom, Boom, aim for either side of her-it’ll keep her pinned so she can’t activate her sabers.” The quiet captain barked sharply through the comlink in Rex’s borrowed helmet which startled him given how he had never heard his fellow captain speak any louder than a whisper. He wasn’t able to dwell on it for too long though as Empio’s order came too late. Y/n managed to activate one of her sabers, the green blade returning to its duty of acting as a shield, and she had already begun sending the shots back. Codex didn’t have enough time to dodge. He was the first to go down-defeated by his own deflected stun clipping his calf. Empio let out a curse. Next went Nexus.

“E and Phantom-move to her six! Boom, Jekyll, with me. Rex with Hyde-he knows what to do.” Fritz’s voice cut through as he darted away. Hyde had just enough time to grumble under his breath before running in the opposite direction of Fritz. Hyde stopped firing and Rex was given the chance to make out Fritz’s plan-pull Y/n’s focus in different directions by splitting the clones into groups where they could bombard her with concentrated fire. Good, but the general had already shown that she could handle deflecting shots from all directions. What was different about this?

“Captain Rex,” Hyde’s voice crackled through the channel, “Fritz is going to begin by firing on Y/n, Boom and Jekyll have orders to delay their own shots by two seconds. Then E and Phantom will fire on a two-second delay and then us. Got it?” The sergeant’s voice was clipped, clearly portraying his distaste for being paired with Rex. “It’s a new strategy he’s testing out.” He huffed, unamused. Rex blinked. Ah. Great, testing out a new strategy at the moment it would be needed was always a good idea. “There he goes.”

Rex looked away from the sergeant in time to see Commander Fritz fire on the general, followed by Boom and Jekyll. Y/n deflected them well enough. With a pivot of her body that allowed her to keep most of the clones in her visible spectrum, she calmly flicked the shots away including Rex and Hyde’s and took down Boom. It was like she knew that Fritz would try this. Which might explain why Rex suddenly heard Fritz’s voice crackle to life inside the helmet. “Rex, Hyde, E, and Phantom, charge her.” Hyde, Fritz, and Phantom wasted no time and mimicked the early attempted tackle. Y/n, acting purely on instinct raised her hand with two fingers splayed and picked Hyde and Phantom up before pushing them away. The two soldiers skidded on the dirt out of the makeshift ring they had set up meaning they were out. Which meant that now it was down to Empio, Fritz, Jekyll, and Rex. Now that she didn’t have to compete with three soldiers trying to tackle her at the same time, Y/n had enough time to latch on to Empio’s fist. She spun the Captain around to effectively use him as a shield against the continuing bombardment from Fritz and Jekyll. Jekyll wasn’t fast enough in diverting his shot and ended up stunning Empio who crumpled to the ground. Rex heard Fritz grumble under his breath - it appeared as though his plan was falling apart in front of him. Once again, his borrowed helmet crackled to life. “Ok, new plan. Jekyll and I are going to try and pull her focus - Rex, keep your fire concentrated on Ice. Jekyll and I will keep her busy and try and to give you an opening.” Rex barely got a ‘yes, sir’ out before Fritz and Jekyll put the plan in motion. The three all kept their fire trained on the Ice general. Y/n kept up the fight, deflecting each blast as best she could but it was clear that she was getting tired - her strikes were getting sloppy, her turns not as sharp, and the deflections of the stun shots flew wherever they pleased.

Fritz and Jekyll, true to the commander’s plan, had succeeded in dividing Ice’s attention though by taking up positions on either side of her which forced the young Jedi to rapidly turn on her heel in order to deflect the shots. That left her back open. Rex seized his chance, raising his borrowed blaster he prepared to fire at the Jedi whose back was still turned towards him. The shot rang out. Y/n turned and deflected it. She was tackled to the ground. Fritz was on her back, trying to muscle the lightsabers out of her hands while Jekyll aimed his blaster off to the side of her head. Rex followed his lead. “Do you yield?” Fritz barked out when it became evident Ice couldn’t get out of the pin she was in.

“I...yield.” She sighed and whoops and hollers erupted from the gathered clones.

“Where does that put us Bolt?” Fritz yelled to the medic already making the rounds through his brothers that had been knocked back or stunned.

“Clones seven, General five.” Bolt hummed merrily as he helped Empio to his feet. The captain staggered a bit before brushing Bolt off to make him go help the others. Meanwhile, Jekyll and Fritz grabbed Ice’s arms and hauled her to her feet the same time a whispered ‘damnit’ slipped out.

“Drinks on me the next time we’re on Coruscant then.” She chirped in the monotone way she speaks despite the loss.

Hyde, who was still sat on the ground snorted inside his helmet. “Drinks are always on you, Ice.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Hyde took the helmet off just to retaliate. And a ghost of a smile slipped onto Ice’s face but it was gone in a flash.

Ice was looking at him. “That goes for you and your men too, Captain Rex.” Her face betrayed nothing, her tone even less. But before he could stutter out so much as a ‘thank you’, Bolt had intercepted by wrapping her cloak around her (Rex noted he took extra care to not touch her skin and even helped hide any that was exposed). Fritz led her away with a gentle tug on her cloak sleeve with the rest of the men following after. Bolt stayed behind with Rex, wordlessly standing next to him with hands clasped behind his back.

He didn’t say anything till Codex and Boom were out of earshot. “This was her idea, y’know.” Bolt’s voice cut through the silence. Rex turned to him to find the medic looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “To invite you to therapy.”

“Therapy?” The modulated sound of Rex’s own voice startled him and he remembered he still had Bolt’s helmet on. He snatched it off of his head. “How is this thera-”

“Course, I’m the one that told her you were awake.” The statement made Rex’s stomach plummet. Bolt turned to face him entirely. “I know you think we’re hiding something from you, Captain. But, believe me, we’re not.” His face fell and Rex was surprised by how small his brother looked in that moment. “We’re trying to forget.” His sing-song voice was quiet. “Will you let us?”

Bolt plucked his helmet from Rex’s hand and started to walk away and the captain was left wondering what his next move should be.

..........................................

Today was the last day. Tomorrow, the 205th were being shipped out to who knows where and the 501st were going back to Coruscant. Rex should feel excited. Coruscant meant he got the closest thing to a break he, as a captain in the GAR, would ever experience. But he wasn’t.

Maybe he should’ve felt sad to be parting with the 205th - he could see some of his brothers animatedly chatting with some of the the younger members of Glacier company - but he wasn’t close with anyone. He thought, starting this assignment, he might be close with Fritz but given his strained relationship with the general who seemed closest with Fritz that didn’t seem like an option in the near future. Maybe Jekyll or Hyde? But the same thing that applied to Fritz applied to them. The shinies seemed too scared to talk to him and those in between, neither the shinies or the Veterans, tended to keep a respectful distance. They befriended the other men of the 501st but stayed away from Rex. If he was honest, he felt like a hornet that attacked the queen bee.

He wanted to resent Ice. But Bolt’s words stopped him.

And made him want to apologize. So, he went looking for Ice. He didn’t care if they didn’t become friends, he’d be okay ignoring what he suspected was going on between Ice and Fritz, he’d eventually let Jannex 1 go. He would just apologize for making Ice and the Veterans feel uncomfortable and then forget he ever met them. A solid plan...if Ice had been alone.

As it was, she was with Skywalker and Fritz in the hastily resurrected tent that was serving as the center of operations for the whole mission looking up at the holographic forms of Mace Windu, Yoda, and Ahsoka. Something was happening and Rex immediately began to walk faster. He entered into the darkened tent trying to hide the silent shame clawing its way through him - why didn’t he know there was a meeting going on?

“Ah, Rex - just in time.” Skywalker greeted him.

“Sirs.” Rex greeted as professionally as he could with a bow of his head. Y/n turned to look at him but said nothing, just stepped to the side to create a gap between her and Anakin. Which allowed him to walk in a straight line right up to the com they were all gathered around.

“As I was saying-” Mace Windu picked up where he left off, “I’m sorry to have to do this to the both of you but the presence of the droid army on Elaroth highlighted that a sweep of the nearby Outer Rim planets would be well advised.”

“Accompany, Y/n L/n for the first few, you will, Skywalker.” Yoda added on upon noticing the growing confusion on the young knight’s face.

“With all due respect, masters, my battalion should be able to handle a sweep on our own. I know that the 501st is long overdue on leave.” Ice piped up without warning, admittedly startling Rex as he had quite forgotten that she was standing right next to him.

“Know this, we do, young L/n.” Yoda began in a gentle voice. “Suggested that Skywalker accompany you, it was, by Master Mundi.”

Something shifted and all present felt it. Rex chanced a glance at Ice’s face and it looked like she’d seen a ghost. Or been stabbed.

“M-” her voice cracked and Y/n cut herself off to clear her throat, “may I ask why my master would do such a thing?” Her voice was measured but even Rex could hear the underlying venom that dripped from each word. Wordlessly, Mace Windu and Yoda turned to Ahsoka whose hologram reached forward as if to press a button. A moment later, the image of a planet placidly spinning appeared before them.

Yoda looked right at Y/n. “To Jannex 1, you must go.”

Taglist:

@tararuthven / @questforgalas / @000ayfh / @pinkiemme / @obi-robi-kenobi / @apocalypticwafflekitten / @cherryxcyarika / @justalittlecloud

Notes:

Gasp :0, me, actually working on my multi-part fics?

Next -> (Coming at some point)

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex #captain rex x you #star wars: clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars x reader #star wars x reader #clone x reader

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karasimpno · 4 years ago

Text

Karasimpno Does FluffVember Day 1 - Akaashi

Karasimpno FluffVember Masterlist Sick Day (gn reader) 2.6k words | Warnings: a liiiitle spicy, sick reader, painkillers, so much fluff I can’t. This is so self-indulgent I’m so sorry

The first thing you became aware of was the sunlight streaming through the curtains in your bedroom. You inhaled deeply, sensation crawling into your fingers and toes as you turned your head on the pillow, breathing in the morning. You exhaled with a smile as your eyes landed on the beautiful man propped up against the headboard, brow furrowed over his sleek reading glasses as he typed sporadically at the computer on his lap. Too focused on his work, he hadn’t registered your movement as more than restless sleep, unaware that your eyes were raking over his relaxed form.

You took advantage of the opportunity just to watch him work. This was what you had always dreamed of - waking up on bright Sunday mornings to roll over and find your childhood-best-friend-turned-boyfriend in bed beside you. You unconsciously bit your lip, wondering how you got so lucky. This was bliss, you thought.

“Hey sexy,” your not-so-sexy morning voice croaked out - deeper than usual. Akaashi’s eyebrows shifted upwards in slight surprise as he inhaled, taking in your eyes on his. The corners of his lips barely tipped upwards and you recognized the beautiful smile for what it was, returning it in full force with one of your own. His hand, slender and angular, slipped off the keyboard and found its way into yours under the blanket. Just watching the ocean of his eyes was all the joy you ever needed. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

“Good morning,” he breathed, that barely-there smile still on his lips. You fluttered your tired eyes to clear the sleep from them and wormed your head onto his lap so you could see what he was working on. Wordlessly skimming your eyes over the document, the time in the corner of the screen caught your eye - 11:37. You sat bolt upright, which you instantly regretted as a splitting pain shot through your head, causing you to hunch over, fingertips pressing to your forehead.

Light fingers found your back. “Hey...” Akaashi started, the unvoiced question clear.

“Yeah, no, just...headache,” you explained disjointedly. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Yeah it was later than you usually sleep but you hardly ever get to rest so I didn’t want to wake you,” Akaashi said in an even tone - though the deep care in his words wasn’t lost on you. He pulled a few fingers through your hair. “Maybe too much wine last night?” he teased, the slightest hint of a glimmer in his eye. You groaned. “Maybe,” you admitted. You laid back down on the pillows.

“Can we just watch Netflix today?” you asked, a little pitifully. That familiar twitch of the corner of his lips. “Sure,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Do you want me to make breakfast or anything?” Akaashi asked. You frowned, the thought of food, for once, not very appetizing.

“Nah, I’m not really that hungry,” you answered, fumbling in the drawer of your bedside table for some painkillers. “Where did I...” you muttered, then felt a touch on your arm. You looked over. Akaashi had the pills you sought cupped in his fingers as he held them out to you. You shot him a playfully annoyed smirk. You were always looking for things that he happened to produce in the blink of an eye. “Stop being so perfect,” you teased, grabbing the water bottle from your night stand as you took the pills from him.

“I can’t help it, I love you too much,” he said, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. You couldn’t help your smile either and pecked him quickly on the lips after swallowing the pills. “I love you too, Keiji.” His deep eyes were dark with warmth. You grabbed the remote and flicked on Netflix, sinking further into the pillows as Keiji’s light keystrokes filled the silence before you picked something to watch.

It was a perfect Sunday afternoon, not even leaving the bed yet as show after show began and ended, your quiet lover’s presence all you needed. Before you knew it, it was a little after 2pm and you were stretching your limbs after having been in the same position for so long. Your left toes accidentally brushed against Akaashi’s calf and you didn’t miss the flick of teal that darted to your face. Your eyebrows raised a bit, meeting the glance. His right hand came up and affectionately moved through your hair a few times, making your scalp tingle. You felt yourself melting a little under his touch, your eyelids fighting a flutter as you bit gingerly on your lower lip.

Without looking, Keiji used his other hand to shift his laptop to his bedside table, moving forward to plant a tender kiss to your expectant lips. You would never get tired of those lips, soft and gentle between yours. You sighed into him, raising your hand to cup his cheek and letting it rest there as he deepened the kiss, his nose lovingly nudging against yours. For lack of a better expression, your eyes felt like they were floating in your skull. There was an enticing rustle of sheets as Akaashi shifted his weight until he was over you, beginning to suck at your lower lip. You inhaled deeply through your nose and your breath caught at the back of your throat, tickling a bit. You cleared your throat but otherwise ignored the feeling and focused your attentions on the deft tongue beginning to lightly taste you, making your brain a little fuzzy. You reveled in the deliciously soft sounds of your lips dancing with each other, sighing again in contentment.

Abruptly, you’re forced to flex the hand resting on Akaashi’s cheek to push him off your lips and past your shoulder as an involuntary cough escapes your throat. You barely heard his exhale of surprise at parting with you but he hovers and waits carefully as you cough once, twice, wait a moment, then cough again. You clear you throat and shake your head a little, blinking. “Sorry,” you whisper, the sound getting caught in your chest. It’s okay he assures you with the way his lips find yours.

He is gentle again, and you wrap your other hand around the back of his neck, encouraging him to keep touching you. Answering your unspoken desires, you find his careful tongue caressing the insides of your mouth. You tilt your head, needing more, more of him. The hand on his cheek makes its way slowly down his toned chest, finding the hem of his pajama shirt and landing on his hip, just beneath the shirt. You are grateful for every brush of skin you share with him, relishing the beautiful, smooth skin of the muscles taut at his waist where he presses against your pelvis. He pulls an inch away from you, looking down into your eyes, his dark teal orbs your entire world.

“Akaashi...” you whisper, and in a fluid motion he pulls his shirt over his head, kissing with more fervor - your lips, under your chin, at your collarbone, then taking his time to plant a loving kiss at the center of your clothed chest. He crawls back, his lips tracing lower down your torso. Your diaphragm contracts as he does so and you successfully stifle another cough. He pushes your shirt up ever so slowly, eyes not leaving your face. The care in his eyes - the way he wants to watch you as he cherishes you - is enough to leave you breathless, and it nearly does as you tangle your fingers in his gorgeous locks. You lick your lips as he uses his nose to trace sweet swirls up your exposed stomach until his tongue grazes past your bare nipple, almost light enough to seem accidental - though you knew better than that. Your head falls to the side and you allow yourself an audible sigh of pleasure as his soft lips close around one of the buds. Your chest rises and falls a little faster at his attentions, feeling your sensitive peak growing wetter at a swipe of his tongue. You know it’s coming and yet a sudden flash of his teeth across the tender flesh elicits a sharp inhale of pleasure from you.

The quick work of your diaphragm from your gasp sends your esophagus spluttering and seizing and you hack out a few chesty coughs. Akaashi swiftly shifts away from your chest, giving you room to breathe and stroking your hand to let you know he was still there - as if you’d ever forget.

You smile weakly at him and apologize. You find comfort in his lips again, but this time only from their half-smile as he lovingly looks down at you. He pushes forward and pulls your shirt back down over your chest.

“Ah, babe - ” you begin to protest, down but not out for this round. He’s moving in to plant a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, love,” he breathes, a whisper above your skin, your pulse still racing. His lips are so gentle against your forehead and you close your eyes at the feeling in spite of yourself. You hear him inhale and feel him pull back. When you open your eyes, he’s sitting back on his heels, looking at you.

“You’re burning up,” he states simply. You half-laugh and begin sitting up, handing his shirt back to him.

“Well I’m sure I have you to thank for that,” you say with a wink.

“No, sweetheart, I mean I think you’re running a fever. I’ll be back,” and before you can even say anything, he’s off the bed and rummaging through a drawer in the bathroom. You exhale dramatically and pull yourself up to rest against the headboard before he comes back. You pout a little like a sick kid when his featherlight fingertips hold your chin to press a thermometer under your tongue.

“No talking for a minute,” he orders, a playful smirk playing at his features. You miss his touch as he throws his shirt back on and reaches across you to grab your water bottle.

“Km-mhi!” you protest, keeping your mouth clamped around the thermometer, but he’s already gone and filling the bottle with fresh water from the kitchen. When he comes back, he takes the thermometer from your mouth and checks the gauge. You realize begrudgingly that you are in fact a bit cold and pull the covers closer around you. You rest your head on his shoulder, peering over at the thermometer. He instinctually rubs your back. 100.4, the thermometer reads. Akaashi sweeps a hand through your hair and down the side of your face. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” Pulling away from him, you smile lightly, knowing there’s no arguing with Nurse Keiji. You love him so damn much but you do feel a little puny.

“You need to eat,” is all he says. He looks a little reluctant to leave you, but squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your hairline before pushing off the bed and walking back to the kitchen.

Sighing, you sink back down into the pillows and hit play on the TV again. Your head doesn’t hurt so much anymore but you can feel your pulse in your skull. You gratefully drink some of the water Akaashi brought you and let your eyes rest a bit. The noise of the TV and the distant sound of chopping begins to get far-away, as though you’re sinking beneath water. At some point, without opening your eyes, you feel a warm cloth pressed to your forehead and behind your ears a few times. You smile lightly, still letting your body rest. Akaashi is being overly helpful but you have to admit it’s nice to know someone’s taking care of you.

Eventually, the smell of your favorite soup wafts into the room. You take a deep inhale, which results in a small cough leaving your chest. Clearing your throat, you groggily gather the covers around you and pull them off the bed as you wander into the kitchen.

“Hey,” you say with a smile, feeling like a walking burrito. Akaashi’s eyes are on your face, and you can practically see him fighting the urge to hold you.

“Go back to bed,” he says softly. “Drink some water and lie down.” You pout a little. “Do you need more water?” he asks. You reach out from the draped covers and squeeze his hand. “No, baby. Thank you for doing this for me.” You’re not sure whether it’s the pressure in your head or how your body just seems to stay tired today, but you suddenly feel a wave of strong emotion wash over you as you think about how grateful you are for this man in your life. You blink at wetness in your eyes and, Akaashi, always keyed in to your heart, has his arms around you in an instant, gently rocking you.

“You’re okay, I love you,” he whispers. A few moments in his arms and you’re slightly surprised as you feel one of his hands lower and grab you behind the knees, sweeping you off your feet and pulling you into his chest. You always forget how well his strength is hidden in his lithe figure, but you give in and let yourself be completely supported by him as he carries you back to your bedroom where he carefully re-settles you onto the bed, kissing your forehead before he stands back up.

“Drink some water, okay? Soup’s almost ready,” his voice is firm, but you know he’s only worried about you. He returns to the kitchen. Your breath catches in your chest a bit and you cough it out for a minute, reaching for your water bottle again.

Soon enough, Akaashi’s standing in the doorway and your heart nearly melts all over again. He’s holding a tray which he brings to your lap, holding your favorite soup, napkins, and a spoon. You sigh with gratitude and you share a look with him, no words necessary. You can still feel your pulse thrumming through your body, but with the first few sips of the soup, the warm liquid settles your chest a bit. Akaashi has crawled into bed beside you and turned the tv back on.

“Should I sleep on the couch or something tonight?” you ask weakly, looking at him and playing up the pathetic-ness a bit. His eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“What? Of course not, why?”

“I’ll get you sick if-” He shushes you almost immediately.

“No, no, no, don’t worry about that. Besides if you were going to, you probably did already,” he teased with one of his signature small smiles. When the soup was finished and the tray taken from you, he pulled you in close to him and spent the rest of the day by your side, hands running through your hair, or grabbing you anything you needed.

He did, in fact, come down with the exact same cold days later as you were getting over your own. While you hated seeing him all groggy and miserable, you did enjoy the tables flipping and chance to take care of him for once.

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trashogram · 4 years ago

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Smut I’ll probably never finish; we’ll call it practice: Killer Croc/Reader

Edit: Warnings for painful sex, slight gore/blood, and violence

I didn’t expect people outside of those who humor me on this blog to actually read this, but I appreciate everyone who did! I’m putting up a few warnings by request if anyone else is interested.

“You really meant it, huh?” He asked.

The guttural voice gave you shivers, up and down your spine. Your legs tightened around his waist, bare skin rubbing over the scaly texture assuredly.

“Yes.” You confirmed, knowing that you had to choose your words carefully, otherwise you’d offend him. At least, that was how you thought you would react if you were a killer crocodile man getting a taste of intimacy after God knows how long.

Your slight movements actually managed to push him forward slightly, more out of surprise than your own strength. Again, you weren’t some super-strong mutant, able to lift cars and topple buildings.

He grunted, leaning down until his upper body was atop yours and his enormous hands were on either of you. He stared down at you with yellow eyes that mezmerised; they were unnatural looking and yet still so human - full of little flickers of emotions. The lust was obvious and it made the heat between your thighs that much more intense, but Croc was also questioning. His hesitance shouldn’t have surprised you, but you found yourself melting just a little at the fact that he was waiting for you to change your mind.

Your hand rose, reaching out toward his chest and sliding up from his pectorals all the way to his jaw. He was scaly from head to toe, but there were parts of him that were softer than others. His neck was strangely fragile, like the underbelly of a reptile rather than their hide.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered, swallowing at the way his brow arched.

“Kiss?” He said, tone slightly incredulous. “You wanna… kiss me…?”

“Oh, do you not want… do you not like them?” The statement didn’t take into account that Croc had possibly never been kissed in his entire life, and you’d put it like that on purpose. He didn’t exude any kind of touchy-feely behavior to suggest he’d been given the chance to decide if he liked physical touch like that at all.

His mouth closed, teeth hidden behind a set jaw. “If it’s what you want, lady. Go for it.”

You smiled softly, and raised yourself up just enough to be within kissing distance. Your lips puckered and you pressed them against his straight as a line mouth, noting that this area was hard but not rough. There was give to it, reminding you more of human flesh as his lips parted slightly.

You moaned, accepting the quick draw and release of his breath into you. You could feel his coarse chest against yours, and the heart inside beating quickly as he let himself relax. He groaned into your mouth finally, humming as if he were tasting something particularly delicious while you coaxed his tongue into your mouth.

You pressed your forehead against his before breaking away for air, letting him know without explicitly saying it that you just needed to breathe and weren’t trying to escape. Not that you could from underneath him.

Croc panted with you. “You sure you ain’t never killed a man before? Probably could, if you kissed ‘em like that.”

You closed your eyes and laughed, feeling lightheaded. Your fingers stroked over his cheek and along his jawline as you felt his grip around you tighten up. He squeezed you, carefully but with purpose, holding you firmly.

+++

Leaning down, you kissed the criminal again while balancing yourself with your hands pressed down over his ribcage. Pushing the hair away from your face before rising again, you reached back and easily found his cock and aligned yourself with it.

You inhaled slowly, determination strengthening your resolve as you continued to sink down onto him. The head was fully inside, but you were still far and away from taking all of his length.

He growled, claws tensed around your waist. It was enough to make you brace yourself with a hand on his forearm.

You grunted. “Tell me how it feels, big guy. Please. I wanna know.”

The sweet request took a while to get through to his brain, but Killer Croc eventually came back to reality. His eyes were glazed over, but you could still see your reflection. You were the only thing in his world.

“‘S like heaven.” He murmured.

The praise made you blush. Your stomach unclenched as a new sense of confidence flooded your senses, and you went back to working your way down so that he could have more. It was very much work, even as the crocodilian man helped by taking some of your weight. He held you up when you needed to pause, though it became evident that he’d started shaking.

You dragged one hand from his abdomen to your center, circling your clit. It sent a jolt of electricity through your body, reminding you to let yourself feel this experience.

Your walls clenched around Croc, and you whimpered. It was completely drowned out as the beast under you snarled at the sudden vice. You jerked back as his hips moved upward in a shallow thrust and suddenly you were there. Your ass was seated firmly on his hips.

He was in bliss, head tossed back against the cell floor. “Ahh, that’s … uuugh, real good.”

You giggled affirmatively, allowing yourself a moment to bask in the triumph of taking all of him. You felt beyond full, stretched to a limit many women couldn’t likely accommodate lest they risk injuring themselves.

You were nice and durable, though. Even as you pressed back down on his chest for leverage and began to lift yourself halfway up again. You looked down between your legs and saw how shiny the base of his cock was already, then lowered back down. Again, and then again.

The wetness was a blessing. You were sliding up and down within a minute, unending fullness that kept you walking the line between pleasure and pain.

You cried out as Killer Croc made another attempt at thrusting. It was still slight, but there was no way for it to go unnoticed. He continued to growl, letting one claw grip onto your thigh while the other left you entirely to dig into the floor.

It was so easy to get overwhelmed, and yet the noises you made seemed to egg him on. He got into a disjointed rhythm, really trying to fuck you in earnest.

He was too big. The thrusts felt like being shivved in the pelvis while he hit the farthest he could go inside of you. Yet, you couldn’t do more than squeal and shriek as you bounced violently.

The nails on your thigh dug in and pierced your flesh. You covered your mouth to muffle a scream at the pain, but Croc took advantage. He pulled you forward, squeezing you to him and thrusting faster.

The danger of this getting out of hand had been reached and you felt dizzy and helpless. You couldn’t focus on any one thing whether it be the blood sliding down your leg or the stab of him against your cervix. You sobbed, eternally grateful for your bodily resilience as you were split apart.

This wasn’t going to kill you, even if it felt exactly like that.

“Fuck! I’m, ugh!” His words were punctuated with fast, shallow thrusts. Howling out, he completely immobilized you and buried himself to the hilt before you realized that he’d cum.

Heat filled you, stinging as it joined the static sensation of hurt and tingling inside. You could barely feel the rest of your body, only noting that the base of your spine felt like it was being shocked.

Croc’s relief sounded like a combination of deep growl and a nasal grunting. His hold on you went lax as soon as he had emptied everything inside you.

—-

The sound was distant, faraway thunder that still shook the ground beneath. It was simultaneously comforting and bizarre feeling the earth beneath you giving and taking. Not to mention the strange texture - inconsistently smooth until your arms lowered over its slope and you touched a much harder surface underneath.

Were you lying in some kind of plateau? Or a strange rock that was smooth at its peak and jagged at the base?

Eyelids fluttering, you squinted. There was harsh, ugly light above you, casting a glare against the thick glass before your eyes. It was a wall of glass, thicker than the thickest plaster wall you could find in an apartment in the Narrows.

You connected the dots then, and your head rose with a bit of effort so that you could confirm that you were still laying on Killer Croc.

Yes, he was still there and still breathing. And so were you.

Thank god.

Your lower half felt numb, except for the thick object still lodged inside of you. You grimaced a bit trying to pick yourself up with the added weight of his arms still embracing you, but his softening cock eventually slipped out of you.

The cum was thick and white, no different from a completely human man’s. The feel of it dripping out of your core was just as satisfying while you struggled to catch your breath.

You were quivering when you felt Croc’s arms drag over your back, pleasantly scraping over your soft skin as he kept your body atop his own securely. He clearly didn’t give a shit about being covered in your combined fluids.

#killer croc #waylon jones #killer croc x reader #for funsies i guess #btas

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

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ummmmm i got in a random mood to write some gratuitous bryce smut so !! i’m sorry !! but enjoy !!

he’s halfway through an adrenaline high that’s spiraling out of control when he spots her.

casey’s off in her own world, seemingly oblivious to the hospital around her, her nose buried in one of her charts. her hair falls loose around her face, a lock of it flopping into her eyes over and over again each time she pushes it back out of her way.

before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s jogging up to her, closing his fingers around her wrist and stopping her progress down the hall.

casey’s footsteps halt, and then she looks up, her confusion giving way to a grin when she sees it’s him who’s bothering her. “bryce!” she exclaims, voice warm despite how surprised she obviously is, “hi, what’s up? i thought you got called into that emergency surgery?”

“i did.” he shifts on his feet before her, his restless energy starting to pile up. “i finished early.”

casey’s eyebrows arch high, her pretty lips twisting with confusion. “you... finished a thoracic aortic dissection repair... early?”

well, if he wasn’t feeling pretty fucking pleased with himself before, he sure is now. “uh huh.” pride puffs out his chest in a noticeable way.

“jeez.” she laughs, though it’s clear she’s impressed. she tucks her chart in close to her chest, then shoots him a look from underneath her eyelashes. “that’s a really complicated procedure. you must be feeling on top of the world.”

oh, he is, but it’s not only because of his success in surgery. earning the respect and kudos of his mentors and peers is one thing, but knowing that he’s impressed casey -- seeing her face contort into that wide-eyed look of dazzled excitement -- is something else entirely.

he swallows, holding her gaze. “do you have a few minutes to take a break with me?” it’s not exactly an answer to her non-question.

casey’s teeth sink into her bottom lip. her gaze darts around the hallway, and then she nods, slowly, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

bryce pulls her into the first supply closet he can find, shutting the door behind them and thumbing the lock in one fluid movement, already shrugging out of his coat. from behind a rack of extra gloves and scrubs, casey’s doing the same, hurriedly unbuttoning her pants.

“c’mere,” he demands, extending an arm for her and yanking her in towards his chest as soon as she’s within grabbing distance.

casey makes a noise that’s half-laughter, half a yelp of surprise. she steadies her hands on his shoulders and smiles at him, stupidly pretty in the dark closet she’s actually let him pull her into.

at work. in the middle of the day. she must really like him.

bryce surges forward and kisses her eagerly, all traces of gentleness gone from his movements. the moment their lips touch he’s already groaning, sinking into the lush warmth of her mouth and savoring the way she feels against him, one broad palm slowly mapping the curve of her body as his hand wanders down her side.

he feels like he could run a marathon. he feels like a god.

casey’s own fingertips are slowly crawling under his shirt, gripping his muscles where they flex when he holds her tighter, pushing a knee between her legs.

she sounds delighted when he backs her into the wall, ominously rattling a rack of supplies somewhere to their left. casey only forces their lips apart long enough to wrench his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor, grinning brightly at him once it’s gone and he’s shaking his messed up hair back out of his face, mind already on the next way he can get her to make that noise she’d just hummed again.

“you’re way too hot to be street legal,” she murmurs, eyes fixated on his chest. it only adds fuel to the fire of his already raging ego, making him feel practically untouchable -- like it wouldn’t even matter if someone rattled the doorknob to the supply closet loose and caught them right now.

like he almost wants them to.

“please,” bryce returns, breath labored when her fingertips start to dance beneath the waistband of his scrubs, “like you’re not the sexiest girl in the whole city.”

casey scoffs, leaning in to drag her lips along his jaw. “the sexiest girl in the state,” she corrects, lingering behind his ear momentarily before dipping down his neck, “thankyouverymuch.”

he laughs, rocking his hips forward. the movement slips casey’s hand fully into his boxers, and transforms the sound he’s making into a low groan, his grip on her tightening where his hands are spread out over her ass.

“sexiest on the east coast,” he says, voice lowered to a whisper, like they’re alone in her bedroom instead of, arguably, in the middle of the hospital. “no contest.”

casey swings her head back enough for them to look at each other, and the gentle, amused expression on her face would be enough to make his heart skip on its own -- her hair’s already messed up and hanging in her sparkling eyes, her lips curved up into a sweet smile -- but the words it’s combined with do him in entirely. “sweet talker. are you going to fuck me, or what?”

he is, of course, even though they’re running on limited time and every minute they spend in here together makes it more likely that someone will overhear something they’re not supposed to.

they help each other out of the rest of their clothes without talking, though bryce can’t stop himself from lowering his head to kiss every bare patch of skin she reveals to him, his boundless energy manifesting itself in the form of doting adoration left on her shoulders, her chest and the curve of her waist when he kneels down to the floor to help slide her pants to her ankles.

then, in a move that proves she’s much too good for him, casey spins around and holds onto one of the shelving units, glancing at him back over her shoulder with an almost challenging grin.

bryce moves in behind her with barely a moment’s hesitation, vacillating back and forth between trying to remind himself to be gentle and wondering if she even wants him to, burying his face in her hair to kiss the side of her neck.

casey moans, not so loudly someone passing by in the hall would hear, but loud enough to send a shiver down his spine, making him pant into the back of her neck where he’s lining up behind her.

they’ve admittedly pushed the boundaries before -- plenty of times. they’ve messed around at work often and especially when they weren’t supposed to, in the on-call room, by the lockers, at the gym and even in the showers, but this is the first time she’s let him get as far as he is now, knuckle deep in her cunt to make sure she’s ready for him and groaning when he finds her wet, wiggling back against him alluringly.

“shit, case. you’d think you were the one with the groundbreaking medical achievement.”

her laugh is breathless, more of a moan than a genuine sound of amusement. “i mean -- i don’t love work that much.”

“debatable,” he sighs, rocking his hips forward experimentally. casey makes a sound of encouragement, and he does it again, a little more deliberately. “fuck, you feel good.”

“shhhh,” casey instructs, squeezing his forearm where it’s wrapped around her torso, “you’ll get us caught.”

“you’ll get us caught,” bryce corrects, bucking his hips harder, “you’re the loud one.”

“i am -- not,” she gasps, proving his point nicely. he smirks into her hair, ducking his head to bite her shoulder. “you are.”

“can you blame me?” he mutters, tipping his head back in the supply closet, squinting hard at the ceiling in a futile attempt to distract himself. this is going to be (what would be embarrassingly, with anybody but her) quick regardless. surgery had left him needy. “if you could feel you --”

“bryce,” casey sighs, the way she’s squeezing around him drawing his attention from the ceiling back to her bare shoulders, his hands aimlessly wandering along the front of her body while he builds up a rhythm. “i feel you, and you feel -- you feel amazing.”

amazing is an understatement for how she looks in front of him, the shelving unit she’s holding onto squeaking under the movement of their bodies, which builds in speed until the pressure’s almost too much, until his brain is short-circuiting with how good it is.

thankfully, he won’t need to use it for what’s left of today. hopefully casey’s almost about to clock out, too, and then -- maybe there’ll be dinner in their future, for once -- something quiet on his couch with no roommates, no siblings and, most importantly, no interruptions -- something that leads to her falling asleep in his arms and maybe even a lie-in, in the morning...

her broken groan startles him from the domestic fantasy he’s lost himself in, and bryce comes back to himself just in time to clamp a hand over her mouth, grunting into her neck when she wedges his palm between her teeth and bites.

the sharp prick of pain feels almost too good -- like what’s happening to him now is really meant for someone else. his life isn’t actually supposed to be going this well.

it is, though, and casey’s living proof of that.

the way she comes apart against him, shaking in his hold and panting against his hand is like poetry, making his head swim dizzyingly in the space that suddenly feels too small and too warm, his face flushed when he buries it back in the sweet-smelling curtain of her hair.

if he closes his eyes, the smell reminds him of her bedsheets, and all the times he’s fallen asleep with his head on the same pillow hers is resting on, her heartbeat a comforting rhythm in his ears.

in the end, it’s him who makes the loudest noise, because she has the safety net of his hand over her mouth, but that doesn’t stop casey from grinning smugly at him when she shimmies back into her clothes, though she winces a little when her hips tilt to get her pants on and that makes him beam obnoxiously at her, and then they’re just two idiots staring at each other through the dark, overly pleased with themselves for no real reason at all.

he steps forward to smooth his hands over casey’s hair while she fixes her coat, helping the messy strands back into place. something about the dark shadows on the planes of her face makes his breath catch; she’d been stunning out of her clothes, of course, but she’s weirdly even more beautiful now, something almost shy in her eyes when she looks up at him from under her lashes.

“come home with me tonight?” bryce asks, nervous even though he knows what she’s (probably, hopefully) going to say.

the corners of her mouth quirk upwards into a grin, and the vulnerability she’d been wearing fades away. god, but he fucking loves her. “sure,” she hums agreeably, bouncing up onto her toes to press one last smiling kiss to his mouth, already reaching around him for the doorknob at his back, “someone has a successful surgery to celebrate.”

#ns*w #can't stress that enough lol #open heart #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #casey valentine #bryce lahela x casey valentine #bryce x mc #bryce x casey #myfic #long post #idk i just FELT LIKE IT OKAY #it's short and not proofread take it anyway ❤️

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brokenkingdom-forgottenempire · 3 years ago

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It Was A Good Night (Edge/Roman)

Okay....so..... it took me days to actually write this because my brain was not helping and I kept on deleting the plot. Im not happy with this but it is all I have for now. Imma try and write more next time. Rare pair but we love it.

Edge with top!Roman for @reignsfx it’s not the best but I hope it’s okay? :’)

It was a crazy night. The crowd was loud. The arena was filled with fans. Their match was probably one of the best matches in history. The audience could not sit still, and Edge was loving it. He loved every second of it. From the punches he threw at Roman Reigns and Daniel Bryan, to spearing both men down to the mat. The painful groans and hitched breaths were music to his ears.

He loved it.

He did not win, he got stacked and pinned by Roman Reigns. He lost but it was a good match. It was a good night.

After the curtains were down, the show ended, the fans were gone, Edge was still in the mood for something else. Something that involved a Samoan man. Edge walked back into the locker room expecting to meet anyone inside, but it was empty. He began to slowly pack his things and gears. Before heading back to the hotel, he decided to shower at the arena so he could just change into more comfortable shirts.

It was as if everyone had just left, even the shower stalls were empty, but it did not bother him. Edge went into one of the stalls, took off his t-shirt and shorts, drew the curtain closed and turned on the water. Warm water felt like heaven on his tense muscles. Edge washed himself clean, shampooing away his sweat away. Once he was done, he turned off the water sprayed at stepped out of the stall, toweling his damp hair. The silence was all he needed after his match tonight, he needed peace.

Edge was too deep in thoughts to notice there was someone else inside the shower room with him. When the older man moved to grab his fresh t-shirt out of his bag, big hand wrapped around his mouth, gagging and muffling his surprised yelp, his right arm was twisted back and held there. He tried to claw at the hand, but the drip tightened.

“I’d be quiet if I were you,” deep and smooth voice made him stop struggling. Edge did not have to turn around to know who was manhandling him. Roman chuckled darkly when the old man suddenly just stood still and panted heavily. “Took you long enough to back to your locker room. The chief shouldn’t be waiting for his servant,”

Edge managed to muffle out what sounded like a ‘fuck you’ before he struggled to escape from the Samoan’s grip. What was this man thinking? What if someone walked in on them? This fucker was going to get an earful of-

“Ah-!” Edge cried out when Roman suddenly grabbed at his hair and yanked back.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” Roman whispered at his ear.

“Fuck off-“ before the older man could say anything else, a hard slap landed on his bare ass, making him realized that his towel had fallen off and he was standing there…naked. “Reigns! What the fuck someone is going to-“

“I’ve locked the door. The hallway is empty, I checked. The others had gone back early. You’d know that if it didn’t take you hours to come back, “ Roman released Edge’s hair and not so sneakily moved to fondle the older man’s balls instead. The Samoan smirked when he felt Edge flinched and his touch.

“I-I was talking to Vince, you little fuck,” even with the little insult at the end of his sentence, Edge’s voice softened. He knew Roman was a gentleman, but he also knew that the younger man could be a beast when he wanted something. “Can’t we do this somewhere else, Reigns?” Edge was not complaining but he rather not got fucked in the shower room. It would be hot, but he wanted to lay down and Roman could use him however he wished.

Roman hummed, probably thinking and considering. The Samoan gently wrapped his big hand around Edge’s cock, slowly stroking and massaging it to life. Edge’s soft ‘fuck’ was almost a whisper, but Roman heard it and the younger man knew Edge was in the mood tonight.

The older man had been busy working out to get back in shape, and he had been distant weeks before their match tonight, Roman thought Edge had forgotten about him. The twins had to coax him that Edge was probably too nervous to get back in the ring and face him again since their storyline would be bigger and longer than before.

“Thought you didn’t want to do this anymore,” Roman suddenly muttered out and it got Edge turning his head around to look at the Samoan dead in the eyes. The Rated R superstar had a confused look on his face.

“Are you fucking serious right now, Reigns? You thought I wanted out of this and missed that good dick?” Roman shrugged and released all his grips on the older man.

“You were busy-“

“-Preparing for our match tonight, yes, so you don’t have to carry my ass during the entire show. You had me and Bryan out there. Sure, crowds love to see two old golds in ring again but a bad match is a bad match, doesn’t matter who is inside that damn ring,” Edge had turned around to face Roman completely before he reached up and cupped his lover’s face with both of his hands. “Besides, the longer we’re away, the better the sex,” Edge leaned in and crashed his lips against Roman’s. The Samoan naturally rested his hands on the older man’s waist, holding him close.

“You know, I wanted to wait for us to get back to my hotel room so you can fuck me silly, but I need you in me. Now.” Edge roughly yanked Roman’s shorts down along, letting it drop to his ankles. The older man kneeled in front of the Tribal Chief and began to stroke the semi-hard cock in his hand. The action was enough to make Roman threw his head back and groaned in pleasure.

Edge wasted no time as he took the hot flesh in his mouth. Roman’s hands found its way back to Edge’s hair and had a good grip on it, controlling Edge’s movement. Meanwhile the older man grabbed both of Roman’s muscular thighs to balance himself, his head bobbing back and forth. A choking noise echoed inside the empty shower room when Roman forcefully pushed his head down all the way to the base, Roman’s balls resting on his chin, the tip of the Samoan cock hit his throat. Edge tapped at the younger man’s thigh when he felt the need to breathe, and Roman released his grip almost instantly, letting his older lover breathe in as much air as he needed.

“You tapped out,” Roman pointed out playfully, a smirk, and Edge wanted to yank him down to his knees by the balls. The older man scoffed and reached up to wrap his hand around Roman’s ball sacs warningly.

“Oh, and I know exactly what will make you tap out, but this time I won’t let go,” Edge smirked when Roman raised his arms up in surrender. The Samoan knew one should never try and push the older man’s button. “I can’t wait any longer. I need you now,” Edge suddenly stood up and gently pushed Roman down to lie on his back on the wooden bench where Edge had placed all of his other things.

Edge spat in his hand and pushed two fingers in his hole, trying to stretch himself before he let Roman’s big dick rail him. The blonde moved to straddle the younger man, and Roman helpfully aligned his cock with Edge’s twitching hole. The older man did not wait for his own hole to adjust to the grith and just slammed his ass down to the base, causing both men to gasp and moan out loudly. The sound of skin slapping skin filled in the space as Edge rode Roman hard. His knees were going to kill him in the morning but he did not care. Roman had his hands gripping at the side of Edge’s slender waist.

“Fuck, Roman. You’re so deep, babe,” The older man breathlessly said. The Samoan replied with a low growl as he continued to thrust his hips upwards; he watched as Edge’s eyes rolled back from the constant assaults at his spot.

“You’re so damn sexy, babe,” Roman grabbed Edge by the nape and pulled him down for a kiss. The blonde’s whines and moans were muffled by Roman’s lips as the Samoan purposely rolled his hips and shoved deeper into the other man’s tight hole.

“FUCK! I’m going to come,” Edge began to stroke his own dick but Roman slapped his hand away.

“Not yet. Get on your knees, baby,” Edge complied almost immediately. He winced when he felt Roman’s cock slipped out of his hole. Edge got on his knees and elbows, waiting for Roman to get back in him. He almost turned to ask what was taking the younger man so long when a black metal rod was suddenly placed in between his lips. He did not even realize Roman brought that piece of metal with him.

Roman carefully tugged at the metal rod, causing Edge to raise his head and arch his back. Oh God. Edge whined as he tasted the metal on his tongue. The younger man did not say a word as he shoved his cock back into Edge’s hole; making the other man cried out loudly. The metal rod gag muffled nothing at all. It was hurting the corner of his lips since Roman was tugging at it quite roughly.

“You like that, baby? You love gagging me in front of thousands of people? How about I gag you in front of them in the ring for next match, huh? Imagine how sexy you’ll look,” Roman thrust harder to emphasize his words. Edge whimpered at the image in his mind. He would not last if Roman decided to pull this move on him the next time their paths crossed in that ring.

“Oh God. Oh God. Oh fuck I’m going to come!” Edge whined when Roman began to jerk his cock.

“Come, babe,” The older man cried out as he shot out strings of cum, spraying the wooden bench below him. Edge shuddered at the pleasure that coursed through his body. Roman thrust few more times before he shot his come inside of the older man. Warm fluid painting his wall white, and he even felt some was starting to leak as Roman slipped his cock out.

The Samoan threw the metal rod back inside Edge’s bag, the older man gapped at him. It was as if Roman could read his mind, the Samoan answered it for him.

“I put it inside your bag when you were busy chit chatting with the others earlier. I thought you would have noticed but hey, it’s your lucky day. I’ve always wanted to try it on you,”

“You’re an asshole,” Edge muttered as he gathered his things and continued to pack. Then he realized that he was still naked and his fresh clothes were still neatly folded next to his bag pack. “I’m going to take another shower,” Edge sighed.

“I’ll come with it you. I haven’t taken mine, and I wanted to join you earlier, but you went in first,” Roman invited himself. Before Edge could even say anything about it, the younger man rested his hand on the blonde’s face, his thumb carefully traced the corner of his lips.

“Did it hurt? Are you okay? Sorry, I should have asked-“ The Tribal Chief did not get to finish his sentence before his lover moved in for a longer and passionate kiss. Edge pulled away first. He had a smile on his handsome face.

“I’m okay. It didn’t hurt. It was hot, and we should it again sometimes. Not in front of the crowd, no. I want this moment to be ours,” The older man kissed his lover’s cheek before he walked into one of the stalls he had used to shower earlier, pulling Roman with him.

Of course, they decided to have a shower fuck. This time with Edge’s back resting against the wall, and his legs wrapped around Roman’s waist. The chief’s cock sliding in and out of him easily. When they came out of the shower room, the janitors were waiting for them outside. They did not say anything but both men were damn sure one of them had heard everything.

When they both finally reached Edge’s hotel room, Roman broke the silence.

“Do you think they heard your slutty moan?”

“Fuck off, you bitch,” Edge threw his bag at the younger man but he easily dodged it. Roman’s laughter caused him to laugh too. It was a good night.

#Edge/Roman #Y's Fic #ugh I didnt even read through this again #hope it doesnt suck too badly

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fvrxdrm · 4 years ago

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A Million Nightmares and One Dream (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

RE2make!Leon Warning: Smut, Dry-humping, oral sex

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Have you ever had a nightmare? One that feels real? So real that you couldn’t figure out what was reality and what was not? Well, I have. I still am, actually.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve started running away from whatever the hell those things were. Two weeks trying to survive this hellhole of a place called Raccoon City, and two weeks praying that I would wake up from this nightmare...but I’m still not awake.

It made me question if I’m even asleep or not. Maybe I’m dead? Maybe I’m in another universe? Maybe my mind’s just going crazy? The answer I don’t know and I don’t think I’m going to get that answer anytime soon.

It’s never-ending. Whenever I close my eyes and open them again, I still see the same incubus in front of me: lifeless eyes that would stare back at me, pale and cold skin that would touch me every now and then, thick red liquid that would gush out from every part of their bodies, their growls that would destroy the eerie silence of the cold, dark night, their teeth digging into another person’s flesh as they mindlessly enjoy their gruesome meal, puddles and marks of blood that were scattered and smeared all over the city, the growing flames from vehicles that were crashed in every structure and fellow car, and the lack of light that made it a tad bit difficult to move around without being grabbed by any of those undead.

This had to be a nightmare, right? I had to be asleep. This isn’t possible...or is it?

It was hard running around, desperate to save my own life that’s at stake with barely anything to defend myself with. But despite that, there was this one thing, a person, perhaps, that came out of nowhere, just like those hellish monsters just roaming around, finding their next dinner, except this person wasn’t someone I was scared of, I was in love with him.

Leon Scott Kennedy, a rookie cop who was supposed to start his first day a week ago. He got a call from the police station to stay away from the city but his curiosity got the better of him and that curiosity got him involved in this nightmare.

During that shit-show we were in, we had been chased around by a fucking giant in a trench coat and fedora, met a woman who broke my heart by kissing the man I’ve caught feelings for and then betrayed us, almost got killed by a beast with a huge-ass eye on its right arm, and then we escaped the city using a train together with a little girl named Sherry and a college gal named Claire.

We found ourselves inside two hotel rooms with Claire and Sherry sharing one and Leon and I sharing the other. It felt kind of weird to me for some reason. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I have feelings for and we’re literally in the same room. With one bed. We’re going to be sleeping next to each other!

Calm down, Y/N. You’re just going to sleep, nothing else.

It’s just...it doesn’t help that I’m in a tank top and underwear only with no pants or bra on while Leon was wearing a sweatpants with no shirt on and just went commando.

Get your shit together, Y/N! Tomorrow you’ll have a new set of clothes.

“Y/N?” Leon called mumbled my name beside me in a sleepy voice.

It’s been an hour I think since we got in bed and Leon immediately fell asleep in exhaustion as soon as his body flopped on the soft mattress while I didn’t...I couldn’t for some reason even though I’m very tired myself.

I turned my head around to look at the young man beside me who propped himself up before laying his upper body on my chest.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered in my ear, his hot breath fanning against my skin causing shivers to run down my spine and the little hairs on my neck to stand up. I let out a shaky sigh.

“Nothing. Just thinking”, I managed to breathe out after a few seconds of thinking about my response.

“About?”

You?

“Nothing you should be concerned about”, Leon lifted his head up and looked down at me with his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Now I’m more concerned”

“Leon”

“Y/N”, My E/C orbs began staring at his blue ones with the same intensity as the man on top of me, keeping myself from averting my gaze towards his plump lips that looked so soft.

Ada got lucky, huh?

Alas, my brain couldn’t take it anymore and just commanded my optics to shift my gaze towards his lips that were being moisturized by his saliva-covered tongue. I continued to stare at it for a few more seconds, admiring the art that I don’t know if I would be seeing again in front of me, before looking at Leon’s eyes again. They were half-lidded now, his orbs now focused on my own parted lips, just like what I did before.

Is he copying me?

Slowly, he began leaning down, his eyes still fixated on my mouth that began releasing more and more air as his head lowered itself more. My heartbeat was raising each millisecond and his hot breath was tickling my face.

Closer and closer...and then...

Our lips touched. It was like what I expected it to be: smooth and soft like a baby’s butt.

My hand found its way towards the nape of his neck before pulling him closer as I was enjoying the feeling of his lips moving against mine, his tongue dancing with my own in a smooth tango, and the sound of what we were doing bouncing off the walls surrounding us.

All of the horrors that’s been glued to our heads were gone in that moment. Vanished. Now we were in a dream, a dream we never wanted to escape from. A dream we wished was forever. But that’s impossible, just like how a nightmare always ends, and that’s why we made this dream the best we’ve ever had so far.

Leon pulled away and spread my legs before making himself comfortable in between them, his warms hands still planted on my knees.

“Is it okay if I do this?” Leon rolled his hips against mine, his cock that was covered by the slightly thick fabric of his sweatpants gliding smoothly against my my thin fabric-covered clit, the pleasing sensation causing me to close my eyes and bite my lip as a small gasp left my mouth. I nodded my head a few times until I heard Leon chuckle above me and roll his hips against mine again.

Leon leaned down again, not stopping his hip movements, before his lips flattened against my neck, lightly pressing kisses on every patch of skin that was exposed to him while my hands found its way on the back of his neck once more, this time, my fingers combed through his soft blonde hair and my hand lightly balled itself into a fist as his movements became faster and faster, causing a loud creaking sound to resonate throughout the small room as the bed below us began moving with Leon.

Leon groaned from above me, his lust-filled voice muffled by my skin as he proceeded to leave some love bites on my neck.

“I’m close, Y/N”

As soon as he said that, his actions grew quicker than before, his desperation to come undone flooding his head as he did so.

The pleased sounds coming from our mouths increased their volume with us not caring if there were other people hearing us from the other side of these thin walls. Leon’s groans became animalistic growls and my pitch became higher. My grip on Leon’s locks became tighter which only added to the hedonism he felt, the bittersweet sensation causing him to come fast and hard, his white fluids staining his grey pants.

When he noticed that I hadn’t come yet, he lowered himself down to where his head was peaking through the valley between my legs before looking at me softly.

“May I?”

I nodded my head as I bit my bottom lip that was bruise with all the kissing and biting we were doing, the anticipation rising as my thoughts scrambled inside my head, knowing what was bound to happen next.

Leon placed a sole kiss on the skin just above the brim of my underwear, his eyes still trained on me, before letting his teeth pin the thin cotton fabric between them and winked at me as he began sliding the material down my legs in an antagonizing pace.

“Leon”, I whispered sensually and hungrily, my tone reflecting on the need I was feeling.

Once the nether garments were off and were thrown out of the way, Leon shifted his focus towards the glistening wet lips just below my hips, his eyes slightly widened as he saw how wet I was but his astonished and amused look soon changed into something more lustful and concupiscent, his once blue orbs that were now mostly covered black indicating his own hunger.

The tip of his tongue finally touched my sensitive nub, my body jolting a little bit at the sudden action but nevertheless, it felt good, great even. He licked a long stripe from the bottom up until the tumescent pearl that’s been begging to be touched by the man between my legs.

My fingers found their way through Leon’s hair again, tugging it more and more as the sexual gratification grew more and more intense the closer I got to my high.

“Leon”

And now, it’s been nineteen years since that incident. Leon and I thought after escaping that hellhole that that was the end of it but nope. The government forced us to work for the USSTRATCOM and then after a few more years the new president recruited us to the new organization he found called the DSO and we’ve been sent to missions after missions involving B.O.W.s and the like.

The only good thing that happened throughout the years of fighting this bullshit was Leon and I got married! He proposed to me after finishing our mission in the Eastern Slav Republic and eventually got married a year later. Crazy, right? We didn’t have a kid though as we would only put him/her in danger but sex was still there, only had to take my pills regularly AND we actually adopted Sherry after getting out of Raccoon so that’s a plus.

“Hey, Chris!” Leon called the BSAA Silver Daggers’ captain’s name and watched as he turned his head around to face him.

“Yeah?”

“How long can we keep going on like this?”

“I don’t know. I never make plans that far ahead”, Chris replied as a soft smile tugged on his lips.

Leon just chuckled in response before looking at me and taking my hand, his fingers lacing with mine as he did so.

Yep. A million nightmares and one dream.

#leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leonxreader #leon kennedy x you #leon #leon+kennedy+fanfic #leon+kennedy+imagine

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kamikothe1and0nly · 3 years ago

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A Price We Pay (OC Story)

Over on Instagram, I'm sharing some characters I made. A lot of people seemed to like my OC Scarlet so I asked if people wanted to read the story I wort over the summer. Some said yes so I'm just going to post it here.

This has nothing to do with Kotlc. You can just ingore this. My writing is awful anyway :).

Warning: mention of death and blood.

Scarlet’s midnight blue hair fell over her light chocolate-colored eyes. She stared at her hands, not knowing what to do. Maxseen was everything to her. She was Scarlet’s world.

Max has been there for Scarlet through her ups and downs. She always did everything in her power to make Scarlet smile. No matter the problem, Max was there for Scarlet. She just wished she could do the same for her.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Heart, there’s nothing else I can do for her.” The doctor looked at her with saddened eyes. From the sidelines, you’d think the emotions in his eyes were real, but Scarlet could look deep into the dark forest green and see nothing but cold stone. He wasn’t sad about Max; She was just another one of his patients. It was just his job. He didn’t care about Max. “Our best bet is that Miss. Willow will pass by the end of the week.”

“Liar!” Scarlet snapped; she gripped her hands into fists, trying to keep from fully lashing out at the doctor. “There’s something you haven’t done yet!”

“Miss-”

“Your job is supposed to be keeping people alive!” She cut him off. “So do your job!”

“We’ve done all we could to help Miss. Willow, but her health is falling faster every day.”

Tears pricked the corners of Scarlet’s eyes.

The silence was deafening., it rang in her ears, leaving her stuck in her thoughts. The soft beep of the machines was starting to irritate Scarlet as it added to the ringing. From time to time, she could hear a whisper behind the door, though she could never make out any words.

The off-white room felt too bright agest Scarlet’s eyes. The walls threatened to close in on her if she made any movement. The light blue curtains waved softly in the air as the breeze swept by the open window. There was one annoying light that would slightly flicker every 30 seconds. Through her tear-blurred vision, she could see Max’s chest gently rise and fall under the thin white sheets.

Her chair was uncomfortable, despite the soft cushion. Cold wrapped itself around Scarlet, reaching deep under her skin and clutching her heart in a frozen fist. It sent tiny, thin shards of ice into it for every beet. Her light, gray jacket no longer felt soft on her shoulders. Instead, it had turned into a ruff, heavy stone, pulling her down.

The burning smell of medicine, bleach, and too much hand sanitizer put a metallic bio taste on Scarlet’s tongue, leaving her stomach to turn.

Max’s amber-brown hair pooled around her ever-growing pale cheeks. Her blue hospital gown against the white bedsheets was starting to become offensive to Scarlet. She uses to love the color blue. Max’s eyes were a bright shade of ocean blue that was a deep swell of emotions. But now Scarlet could no longer see the blue she had fallen for, and she feared she might never see them again.

Max laid still, her eyes closed and breathing hard to notice unless you looked long enough. Tubes ran along her skin, each having a different job to play. One keeps oxygen moving in and out of her lungs. One slowly dripping random fluids into her body. The rest of the tubes did something that Scarlet didn’t quite know what.

Maxseen was a husk of what she used to be. She no longer ran around pulling pranks and laughing with her friends. She no longer told Scarlet of her daydreams or her plans for her future. She no longer pulled funny faces with her little brother and mom. Max no longer hugged Scarlet tight.

A tear landed on Scarlet’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. She was going to lose Max; she was going to be alone again. Her dad was right; she’ll never have someone to love.

“Shhh,” A woman gently stroked a young Scarlets hair. “It’s ok; you’re safe. Nothing can hurt you,” she whispered. Her voice was sweet like honey and smooth as glass. It held so much love and kindness with every syllable.

Scarlet sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, “It was horrible, mom. It was dark and scary. I couldn’t find you… I was alone.”

“Oh my sweet child, you are never alone, and it was only a bad dream.” She started to braid Scarlet’s hair, something that always calmed her down. “Do you remember that story I told you when you were a little older than a baby?”

“The one about the dragon that can grant you a wish? I remember a little.”

The woman hummed in thought, “She lives in a cave lined with glowing crystals, found beep in the Forbidden Forest. Her short fur is a shining black that sparkles in the faint light of the crystals. Her eyes are bright firey-orange. When she looks at you, she looks deep into your eyes.”

“The eyes are the gateway to the soul,” Scarlet whispered. Her mom tickled Scarlet, causing her to giggle.

“Correct.” She poked Scarlet’s nose with a light feathery touch. “She looks into your soul.” She leaned back against the bed and looked thoughtfully at the shadowy ceiling. “Her claws are said to be so sharp they can cut through the toughest stone with ease. Her fires-breath is hotter than a hundred suns; you can feel the warmth of her firey heart when standing in the cave.

“Deep in her cave where the light can’t reach is where she sleeps with all her treasures; the crystals fill her dreams of young children’s wishes.”

“Everyone says dragons aren’t real.”

“Our world has grown disconnected from dragons. It’s been thousands of years since people have seen one. The stories we hear about the giant creatures have grown old and thrown around with fake stories. It had become difficult for people to tell which stories are true, so we labeled all their stories as myths and legends.

“People stopped believing.”

“Is your story true?” Scarlet looked up at her mother.

“Of course, my dear. Every word is true.”

“Really?” Scarlet’s eyes light up with wonder. “If it’s true, why don’t people try and find the dragon?”

“The forest is a dangerous place. It’s full of creatures that can kill in a heartbeat. The tall twisting trees block out all the sun’s light and warmth, leaving it in cold darkness that is more shaded than night. The trees shift and change, turning the forest into an endless maze. No one dares to step foot into the forest.”

“Then how does the dragon have people’s wishes come true.”

“Only the bravest can make it through the twisting maze of trees and make it through the dangers that lay deep inside. But be warned; the dragon doesn’t take kindly to strangers. She’ll searcher your heart to find if your intentions for her magic are good or bad. If she finds your heart is black and bitter, she’ll not hesitate to kill you.”

“How do you know all of this, mom?”

“I’ve seen her.”

Scarlet’s eyes opened as the sun reached through the half-closed blinds. The sun’s golden rays illuminate the small room in an orange-yellow glow.

Another one of those dreams. Scarlet has had them a lot since Maxseen got sick.

Just another reminder that Scarlet loses everyone that comes into her life.

Her dad left when she was four, her mom went missing when she was 16, and now Max would most likely leave her too.

But this dream wasn’t like the others. They always had Scarlet’s mom in them, happy memories of the two laughing with each other, cooking, playing some kind of game, just her and her mom when times were easy when she wasn't afraid of what could happen tomorrow.

She’s never had a dream about her mom telling her the story about the dragon. Her mother used to tell Scarlet that story when she was afraid of what was in the shadows or under her bed.

“Maybe if you wish hard enough, the crystals will fill her dreams of your wishes. Maybe she’ll hear it and help you make them come true.” her mother brushed a strand of hair behind Scarlet’s ear.

“You think so?”

“Wish with all your heart, my dear, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll give you your wish.”

After losing her mother and everyone saying she wasn’t going to come back, Scarlet had given up on believing and wishing. She didn’t have a reason to. Her wishes would never come true; there was no point in believing stories her mother would tell her. Scarlet just went on with life, trying to survive, making it to another day.

And then she met Maxseen. Her kind blue eyes warmed Scarlet’s heart. Max’s smile filled her life with color again. Max gave Scarlet a reason to wish, a reason to believe. She became the reason Scarlet lived more than to survive. Max was the reason that Scarlet laugh, smiled, cried. She was the reason she loved.

Scarlet can’t lose that.

Max can’t lose her chance to do all she wanted to do in her life.

Scarlet sat up with a jolt. The dragon could be what saves Max.

It was a far-fetched chance that Scarlet could even find a dragon, and it was an even farther-fetched chance that her mother’s story could be true. But this could be the last thing that could help save Maxseen.

And Scarlet was going to take that chance.

So there Scarlet stood, at the edge of the blackened forest. The sun was at its highest peak. Warmth hugged the land the sun’s light landed upon.

But the light and warmth seemed to fear away from the old creaking trees. Not even a foot deep into the forest, the light thinned, leaving barely enough light to see what was in front of you.

Do not enter.

Warning dangers.

Those who go in don’t come out.

Bright, eye-catching, yellow signs hung on the spiked, bobwire fence, warning people to stay away. The thick wire reached high into the vast blue heavens, keeping people out and keep in whatever lay among the shadows.

Scarlet breathed in deeply, trying to steady her fear-struck heart. The warning of what laid in the Forbidden Forest raced through Scarlet’s mind. She stepped back when a low howl sounded through the alley of trees.

Finding the dragon, going into the forest, is the last chance to keep Maxseen alive.

She clasped her hands into tight fists and pushed the fear down. If she was going to do this, she had to do it now. Max didn’t have very long. Scarlet can’t keep wasting time on her fears.

The wires snapped as Scarlet cut a hole in the fence, just big enough for her to slip in. Once she had worked up the courage to move past the wires, she could feel a freezing wind sink deep into her skin, putting the uneasy feeling back in the pit of Scarlet’s stomach.

The trees groaned and creaked as they stretched up to the sun. They used their leaves to block out the earth’s closest star’s warmth and comforting light. All the colors the world should have painted the earth were dull, dark, and dead. The trees weren’t like the one Scarlet would sit under on a warm summer day with all her friends. Instead, the tree’s bark was a muddy grey-brown, and their leaves were far from the vibrant green, but instead, were a nightmarish black.

With the sun blocked, Scarlet had lost track of how long she had been walking. The fear and the feeling of eyes following her grew with each step.

From time to time, she could hear a faint growl of a wolf or a twig snapping in the distance. The trees sounded like they were crying and screaming, their branches reaching out to Scarlet, begging for help. No birds sang their cheerful songs among the trees. The eerie atmosphere began to play tricks on Scarlet’s mind, leaving her to wonder what sounds were real.

She started to smell blood and rotting flesh the farther she ventured into the twisting ocean of trees. She wrinkled her nose, the smell only getting stronger every second. Awful odor after odor filled her senses, making her skull start to drum against her head.

Her mouth had gone dry minutes ago—a disgusting bio taste laid on her tongue. The taste and smell made her gag as her stomach spun.

Finding the dragon, going through this forest, is the last chance to keep Maxseen alive.

She remembers when she had asked her mother about the forest. Her mom had gone mute; her soft gray eye’s sad as they watch Scarlet. She had used only a few words before ushering her daughter outside to play.

Dark,

Paranormal,

Dangerous,

Timeless.

Scarlet didn’t know what her mother had meant by timeless. How could something be timeless?

She understood what she meant now.

Everything in the forest seemed frozen in time when you looked straight at it. But out of the corner of your eye, you could spot something move among the trees. You could feel something reach out to you. When you spin around to see what was following you, everything will go still like an old photograph.

You’ll lose track of how long you’ve been in the twist. Your mind would start to panic as it tried to decide if it’s been a second, minutes, hours, or days. Light didn’t move in the forest, leaving it to feel like you’re stuck in an infinite night of nightmares.

Scarlet jumped and yelped as a strong howl of a nearby wolf echoed through the trees. Her fight or flite kicked in, sending her running in the opposite directions of the cry.

As much as she wished she’d jump into a fighting stance when things got too much, she had always been one to run from her problems and fears.

The pounding of her feet against the ground woke bats that hid among the dead leaves. They sprung from their branches, startling Scarlet to run faster.

Her heart crashed against her rib cage as the fears following her shaded her sight. The world became a blur; the trees blended, blurring the narrow view she had. Barking rang in her ears as the crunching of fallen leaves stalked close behind her.

Scarlet peeped back; the silhouettes of monstrous wolves trailed only a foot away. They snarled, snapped, and barked, moving closer.

Scarlet tripped.

A tree branch reached out and wrapped its self around her leg. She slammed into the ground with a firm thud. Pain ricocheted through her head as it hit a rock. Her vision blanked as ringing washed over her. She tensed her muscles and curled in on herself.

An earth ratting roar filled the air. Scarlet had snapped her eyes open, seeing the wolf-shaped shadows whimper and scurry off.

Scarlet looked behind her to see what had terrified the pack. A mysterious void was all Scarlet met with; pain set back into her skull, causing her to wince. Slowly she reached up and pressed her hand against the side of her head. Her shivering hand was meet with something warm and sticky. She pulled her hand away, finding it covered in dark red.

“Aw.” She hissed.

The branch that wrapped around her leg started to wind itself up her thigh. Scarlet yelled, kicking at it. “Get off! Get off!” The branched snapped, it recoiled back to its spot at the tree’s side. The dead oak let out a screeching cry.

Scarlet backed aways as the forest joined the tree’s ear-piercing wells. They grew louder with every new cry. She covered her ears as the screams added to her growing headache.

A glow filled her vision. All at once, the trees went quiet. Slowly Scarlet turned towards the source of the light. The deep black void now was bright with crystals that glittered with a soft, comforting cold-purple. Scarlet’s breath caught in her throat.

“She lives in a cave lined with glowing crystals.”

She tensed and relaxed her hands in a fist, a weak attempt to slow her racing heart.

The jewels filled the gray-stone wall. Their light reached out, pulling Scarlet closer to the cave. The closer she got, the brighter the crystals shone, beckoning for her to go deeper.

Her legs moved on their own, steering her into the cave. The glowing of the crystals followed her deep into the hole. The light jumped from crystals to crystals, leaving the entrance of the cave dark and secretive.

The jewels flickered as they whispered into the cave’s thin air. If Scarlet listened to one closely, she could faintly hear laughter and wishes from little children, warming Scarlet’s heart. But there also was the feeling of sorrow.

She couldn’t help but think that those kids would lose their hope, their laughter, and their wishes as they grew older and the faults of the world sunk in. They’d grow up and find that the world wasn’t all the wonders they see it as. They’d get older and stop believing in fairy tales and wishes coming true.

Just like Scarlet.

Those thoughts filled her heart with aching pain.

Her mother and Maxseen have grown up to still believe in those stories, believe that wishes

could come true. They have still seen the world in its magic and color as they got older, as time started to settle on them and show that things where’t like they always seemed. But they had

chosen to believe, to see the good and beauty in everything around them.

Scarlet’s mother had lost that the last time she’d looked into her gray eyes. They had seemed lifeless. They had no longer had the shimmer of love in them; they were dull, like the Forbidden Forest. She kissed Scarlet’s forehead with a light touch, lingering there for longer than her soft kisses would. She said she loves Scarlet more than anything and then left, taking Scarlet’s wonder for the world with her.

Maxseen still had that sparkle in her eyes. She had given a little bit of her wonder and love to Scarlet, helping her see the world as Max did.

Scarlet wasn’t going to let another person lose that.

She pushed herself to keep going deeper into the dark. The crystals lighting the path with every step she made.

A comforting warmth like a summer sun pushed the icy cold from the forest away, hugging Scarlet gently, putting her fears to rest, and letting a hopeful feeling run through her veins.

The ground began to shake, and the crystals went black; the whispers of wishes and glimmer of hope gone. A low growl shook the pit of Scarlet’s stomach. She stepped back when the earth shook. A pair of red-orange cat-like eyes shone in the pitch-black.

They looked into Scarlet’s heart. They didn’t have the same comforting feeling as the crystals. They felt like a stone, cold and hard. The eyes narrowed as they studied Scarlet. The sense of burning shards stabbed into her chest.

Her mind began to tell her to run, that it was dangerous. The fear returned, and her legs begged to leave, but the sharp eyes kept her glued to the ground.

Her breathing picked up, leaving her to shake. She couldn’t hear anything but the beating of her panicked heart. Her throat clogged with screams that never made it past her lips.

The smell of burning fire filled the cave as smoke emerged from the darkness.

A taste of ash lingered on her tongue.

The eyes shifted higher. The crystals snapped back to life, allowing Scarlet to see the owner of the eyes.

Fur darker than the deepest parts of space sparkled like the jewels lining the walls cast their light, making it feel like Scarlet was gazing into space and seeing countless stars dance, laugh, and sing. Wings stretched out and beat; they sent a cool breeze through Scarlet’s hair, and she could hear the strength they held. The underside of the wings’ spikes, horns, and claws were a blend of a sunset. Her talons looked sharper than a sword as they dug into the ground, leaving a scar in the hard stone. Scarlet fell back, her voice trapped in her throat as she stared dumbfounded at the creature before her. Her mind raced with questions trying to find an explanation for what she was seeing.

Part of her was relieved she had found what she had been looking for, but the other haft couldn’t help but think that this was a dream. That when she had hit her head, she passed out.

Her mind raced, trying to find a reason for the thing in front of her. Dragons aren’t real. The stories about the giant fantasy creatures were nothing more than, well, fantasy.

Right?

But this couldn’t be a dream. Scarlet felt the heat from the dragon’s heart, hidden in her chest. Scarlet could feel the slight pinch in her palm as she tightened her hands into a tight grip, digging her nails into her skin. Scarlet could smell the strong scent of smoke that emerged from the dragon’s breath. She could still feel the pounding from when she hit her head outside the cave.

Everything felt too real to be a dream.

She knows how to tell if it was a dream. Before Scarlet met Maxseen, she studied and learned how to lucid dream. She liked the feeling of having control of her fears. Going her whole life, having things go south out of nowhere took its toll on her. So being able to go into a world where she could control her surroundings was something she craved.

Everything about the cave, the crystals, the dragon were too real to be a dream.

A roar raddled the floor, dragging Scarlet out of her thoughts. She looked up, meeting the dragon’s eyes, the cold feeling setting in her chest again. The creature lowered her head closer to Scarlet, giving her a better view of her eyes.

They held power and strength that left them feeling frozen and blocked off, unlike the warm fire the iris’ held. Just a bit farther into the eyes was strength and wisdom; They held more than a thousand years of living. The sparkes of knowledge showed how much the dragon had seen and learned over her long years. Showen all the good and evil she had witnessed through the ages. Battles after battles, the carefree laughter of little kids that explored the world shown as nothing but a bright candy land of wonder and the pain of loss.

Hidden in the deeps corners of her eyes, Scarlet could see the caring, kind, loving gaze of a mother, close to the same soft look that Scarlet’s mom had. In the mix of love, there was the sadness of someone who had lost so much. Her eyes looked exhausted from her long life.

The stern look on the surface shielded the raw emotions that the monster’s eyes carried. It acted as a wall, blocking out the world to keep her safe.

A similar wall Scarlet had.

She growled again, quieter than the others. It rumbled out of the dragon’s throat, giving the sign that she was waiting for Scarlet to speak. To tell her reasoning for being in the cave.

She had been quiet for too long. She had stared at the beast longer than she should have, and she could see the inpatient manner growing in the dragon’s body language.

Scarlet moved her weight from one foot to the other and forced herself to stand taller. Forced the fear in her mind to fall into the dark. She cleared her throat and willed it to be strong; she took a deep breath, “My name is Scarlet Heart; I’m trying to find the dragon that can grant my wish.”

The dragon narrowed her eyes. Her wings shifted against her back. “It’s been a while since someone has found this cave.”

Scarlet expected her voice to be clear and powerful, able to crack the ground if she’d so wished. But the dragon’s voice was soft and sweet, a honeysuckle sort of sound.

She moved to lay down. The sparkles in her fur stirred and shimmered with the movement. She crossed her front paws in a regal-type manner. “I thought humans stopped believing in wishes and creatures like me. I’m curious, how did you find my cave?”

“My mother.” Scarlet’s voice turned quiet. The years of living without her mother, Scarlet hadn’t honestly talked of the woman that raised her. She tended to keep withdrawn about her memories of her mom. “She’d tell me stories about you.”

The dragon tilted her head to the side like a curious puppy. “Your mother told you stories?”

Scarlet nodded, her nerves increasing. She spun a thin strand of hair around her finger needing something to do other than stand there. “You,” she paused when her voice quivered, “you are the dragon that can help me, right?”

“I can help give you your wish.” the dragon nodded in the reassurance that Scarlet had found what she had been seeking. “But for you get your wish, there will be a price.”

Scarlet felt her heart sink. “I didn’t bring anything to trade.” she held her hands out at her side, a gesture that she had come to the cave empty-handed. Her mother didn’t tell her the dragon would want something in return.

She should have known that. Asking for something from a creature the world viewed as myth and fantasy was bound to ask for something in return.

But what would a being as old as this dragon want? The dragon’s cave went deep into the earth, where the light didn’t travel, where she hid her jewels, golds, and silvers she had collected over her eternal life. Even if Scarlet had brought something, it would most likely be nothing but a scrap of junk to the shining beast. Nothing of good trade.

Had she wasted her time? Wasted the time she could have spent with Max? Risked her life in the dangerous forest for nothing?

“Oh no,” the dragon shook her head, the bright sunset colors of her horns and the sparkles in her fur shifting into a dance of magic from the single movement. “The payment isn’t for me. I don’t give any wishes. I help the magic that makes it come true. The crystals that line my cave hold power to give people what they desire most. They choose the price.

“I move that magic held in crystals out into the world where they’re able to give you what you want.

“If the crystals decide that your wish is worth giving, then they provide me the ability to help you. They’ll let me know what the price of your wish is.”

“So, what would it take for me to have my wish come true?” Scarlet pulled at the sleeve of her shirt.

“It depends on your wish.” She stretched out a paw and tapped one of the jewels lining the walls with a delicate touch. “I don’t know for sure what any of the prices will be. A wish someone asked for was for her to have a child. Her price; she’d live for a hundred years, longer than a human life span, before she could bear a child. Once the kid turned 16, she’d have to return to the forest and pass away alone.”

Scarlet listened silently to the dragon’s story as she viewed the crystal’s whispers of secrets.

“What would your wish be?” She turned to face Scarlet again and waited for her to speak with a look daring Scarlet to request her wish.

The attention made Scarlet feel small, making her pull tighter on her sleeve. She shut her eyes as she gathered her thoughts. “It’s my-,” she bit her lower lip out of fear. Would this be worth it? If that mother didn’t get the chance to watch her child fully mature, would the price for Scarlet’s wish be worth the risk?

She shook her head. What was she thinking? Max did everything she could for Scarlet, for anyone that entered the girl’s life. Max would make people smile. She’d sit with strangers if she saw they were having a bad day. Maxseen was the most caring person Scarlet knew. Whatever the price was, it would be worth it. It was worth it for Maxseen.

So she opened her eyes, a new spark of determination giving her the strength to look the dragon in the eye. “It’s my friend. She’s sick, has been for a long time. The doctors say she only has a few days left to live. I want to wish her better. I want,” she stopped to think over her words, “I need her to get better. To live a full, healthy life.”

The dragon shut her eyes, covering the glowing orange from the world, “You’re asking for a wish that changes someone’s fate, Scarlet.” She shifted down to her eye level. “Do you know how much that’s going to cost you?

“Changing the fate of someone is a big deal. What the crystals want in return for your wish; You’ll have to give away part of your human form. They’re asking you to become a dragon-spawn; haft human haft dragon. Meaning you’ll become part of the forest. You’ll never be allowed to leave this place. Never be allowed to see your friend again.”

Her shoulders sagged as the dragon’s information filled the cave’s walls. The whole point of this was so she wouldn’t lose Max. If she agreed to the terms of the wish, Scarlet would become stuck in the frightful forest.

Tears weld up in the corners of her light chocolate eyes. Her father’s words overflowing in her thoughts. “You’ll always be alone. You’ll never have anyone to love you.”

But the thought of Maxseen’s family finding her alive and well. The image of people’s worlds becoming brighter just from a small smile from Max, the same way Scarlet’s world becomes brighter when she was around her closest friend. The feeling that Max would fulfill all the goals she held close to her heart was enough for Scarlet to make up her mind.

Paying that cost is the least she can do for the girl that took her in when she was at her lowest. The least she could do for the girl that made it worth smiling, worth laughing, worth loving.

She owed this to Maxseen.

So Scarlet took a long breath, and held her fists at her side, and nodded. “Please, save Maxseen.”

The dragon sighed, “Ok, if that’s what you want.”

She blew a cloud of smoke around Scarlet. It turned and spun around her, shifting from a dark mist-gray to the cold-purple of the crystals. It drifted closer, bounding itself around Scarlet, shielding her vision and cutting her off from the world.

The smoke clung to her skin, making it itch. She sucked in a cry when a stinging pain rapidly spread within her body—the feeling of fire bit into her upper and lower back. A piercing headache caused her to fall in on herself.

She screamed out.

It was hard to tell how long the pain clasped to Scarlet. Her mind had gone blank, leaving her stuck in the repeating spiral of what felt like flesh burning away and regrowing a second later.

Her sight cleared when the pain eased a little, letting Scarlet find herself lying on the stone floor. She glanced up at the dragon, her orange-fire eyes watching her every move.

Scarlet wiped the fallen tears away from her cheeks; she winced when a minor burn brushed the skin her hand touched. She pulled her fingers away, finding them painted with dark, sticky blood. “What-” her voice cracked and shook.

She struggled to push herself up. Her limbs screamed that they were hurting and exhausted. Breathing in gently, she caught sight of her reflection in the crystals; pearl white horns sat atop her head. A long midnight blue scaled tail lay on her lower back. Her shoulders now covered with white scales and the freckles she used to have, replaced with the same white scale stones. Blood dripped down her head and back at the foot of the horns and tail. A scar, the shape of a pair of dragon wings, had burned into her back.

Instead of her iris’ light chocolate brown, they now were the same color as the glowing crystals. Her pupils became slits similar to a cat’s. Her eyes now a constant reminder of her wish and the price she had to pay for it.

The tail and horns warned that Scarlet couldn’t leave the Forbidden Forest and that she couldn’t see Max.

“Wait.” Scarlet’s voice was raw as she cried out. “What about Max? How do I know my wish came true?”

The dragon tilted her head to the crystals. The reflections in the purple shifted, showing the familiar off-white room Scarlet spent hours of her past months in; a woman with long dark brown hair sat in a chair staring quietly down at her warm, golden-toned hands.

A young boy, no older than 12, with golden blond hair, and jade-green eyes, stood next to the woman staring anywhere except the bed that held a fragile girl.

Max’s cheeks had grown rosy, giving her the color she was missing for so long, giving her more life, less like a ghost. She was no longer thin and frail.

The slow movement of her raising her hand to rub tiredly at her eyes grabbed the attention of the young boy and woman. Max cracked her eyes open, letting the world see the warm blues that had been missing for so long. Looking over at the two visitors, she smiled, “Mom, Jade?” Her voice was quiet and weak from the months of not being using.

The mother cried out in joy, dragging her daughter into a firm embrace. Afraid that if she let go of Max, she’d lose her.

Her brother stared at Max in disbelief. Tears began making their way down his pale cheeks.

Max, a look of confusion written on her face, gave her usual worried grin at the sight of her Family’s behaver as the little boy joined the hug. The family held each other, not daring to let go.

Something tugged at the back of Scarlet’s shirt, raising her off the ground. The dragon turned and moved deep into the shadows of her cave, taking Scarlet with her.

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