#its why his gloves cover his two fingers but not his thumbs

[poxy-domain]

ok ok 1 more. my mikester. hes a pink bellied sideneck turtle!!

[lacroixqueen]

you're too pretty to kill (18+, noncon)

deadpool x fem!reader

Summary: deadpool was hired to kidnap and kill reader but reader is just too cute so it puts him in a moral dilemma

Pairing: fem!reader x deadpool

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/Tags: bondage, brat, gun kink, gun play, praise kink

You loved days when you could just rollerblade around the city without so much as a care in the world. The feeling of the warm summer breeze running through your hair. Watching as the lights zipped by like dust lost in the wind. You wish you could do this forever. After all, it was your peace, your one true happy place. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Out of nowhere, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and a leather glove holding a handkerchief cover your nose and mouth. 

You tried your best to fight whoever your assailant was back, pulling on his wrist in a desperate attempt to rip it off your face. But before you knew it, you felt your vision blur and your head begin to spin. It felt like the world was melting right before your very eyes. 

Next thing you knew, you woke up to a sea of black. You could feel a piece of fabric cloaking your vision and tied securely behind your head. You tried to move your hand to hoist yourself up, only to find that both your hands were roped together behind your back. You tried to scream into the void, only to find that your mouth was sealed with a piece of tape.

“Mmfffhn!” you managed to sputter out, leaning against what felt like a cold, concrete wall. In fact, it was quite chilly wherever you were. Was it a basement? Warehouse? Regardless, you were shivering from head to toe. The tiny crop top and mini skirt you threw on this morning before going rollerblading was just not cutting it, unfortunately. 

You quickly snapped your head in the direction of what sounded like heavy footsteps and… clapping?

“Well, well, well,” a sly voice rumbled from the opposite end of the room. “Now what do we have here?” 

The unknown person gradually made his way over toward you, knelt before you, and removed your blindfold and gag. 

You looked up, only to lock eyes with what you could only describe as two white ellipses, narrowing ever so slightly amidst the shadows. Your eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. 

“Such a shame,” your captor sighed to himself. “You’re so pretty too. As in, way prettier than most of my other victims. Normally my clients pay me big bucks to knock out assholes with beer bellies, bad breath, and a name on the registry but you.” He made a rectangle with his thumbs and index fingers as if to take your photograph. “You are perfect.”

“Wh-what are you going to do with me..?” you stammered, almost too afraid to ask. You never took your eyes off of him. He was tall, lanky, even. Dressed in all red and black. You took note of the gun in his holster and the two massive swords strapped behind his back.

“Oh, nothing to write home about,” he assured, ruffling up your hair like you two were childhood best friends. “Well, I guess if you are really dying to know. Someone important wants you dead. So I guess you could say, I, being one of if not the most popular hitmen on the black market, was hired to.. Uh, what’s the word, kill you! Yeahhhh, that sounds about right.”

“I don’t understand,” you muttered to yourself. “All my life, I can’t think of a single thing I did that could possibly warrant this, I mean.. why me?”

“Oh how tragic,” Wade remarked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while a tear slowly rolled down your cheek. “I mean, who in their right mind would want to kill someone like you? You are the literal picture perfect definition of the girl next door who wouldn’t hurt a flea. It would take a psychopath to even dream of such a thing!”

You glared at him while he carried on his little performance. “Don’t mock me.”

“Oh.” Deadpool stopped mid-sentence as he lifted up your chin with the tip of his index finger. “So it’s going to be like that, then.”

He leaned back slowly, only to gingerly remove his pistol from its holster. 

“Tell me, Y/N..” he whispered softly. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

“I.. no..” you replied, gasping as he pressed the cold barrel against your cheek. 

“Would you say you’ve ever, oh I don’t know, felt it on your skin?” he teased, dragging it across your neck and collarbone. He took notice of how you swallowed the lump in your throat nervously, and the way your lip quivered ever so slightly. 

“Or what about in your mouth..” his voice suddenly took a dark turn as he shoved the front of the handgun in between your lips, forcing it into the back of your throat. 

You felt your blood run cold. At first, it all felt like some sort of a game. Like one sick, twisted joke. But now, it suddenly became real. 

Wade was absolutely giddy, watching your soft, plump lips part open and accept the icy metal. He liked seeing how your pink tongue was forced still and how you squirmed like a helpless animal he had total control over. And the adorable little noises you made when your mouth was full. It delighted him in a way even he couldn’t explain. 

“Would you say you’ve ever.. choked on one?” he said, barely being able to contain his laughter. Without another word, he pushed the pistol even deeper, causing it to squeeze against your uvula, eliciting your gag reflex. 

“Whghnnn..” you muffled out, trying your best to mentally distance yourself as far away from this entire ordeal as possible. Your mind was racing at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. You were trying to formulate a plan, something, anything to have him show you mercy. 

“Wow, you really are so good at this,” Wade mumbled, not relenting at all as he continued to shove the gun further down your throat. “Definitely better than I thought. Hey, do you like practice or something? Because God, you are a natural! If I weren’t about to kill you right now, I’d hire you on the spot.”

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo. 

Realizing he wasn’t getting any further reaction from you, Deadpool slowly removed the pistol from your lips, watching with glee as a string of saliva connected your tongue from the tip of the barrel. 

He then proceeded to drag the side of the handgun across your chest, over your bare stomach, and finally, resting on the waistband of your skirt. 

“So.. Y/N was it?” Deadpool rambled on, as he played with the pleats of your skirt with his free hand. “Right. You know, I would say I don’t have a lot of weaknesses in this world, wouldn’t you agree? So anyways, after I got mutated and all fucked up from that bastard Francis and became who I am now, there’s very little out there that truly phases me these days. But this..”

He gestured towards your pastel pink miniskirt. “This is something else.” 

And with that, he gently lifted up the cloth with the front of his gun to reveal your lacy magenta underwear.

“A thong! Boooold,” he commented, pressing the cold metal of the barrel right up against your labia. “I was wondering if you were wearing something underneath, and this answers the question. God, that’s hot. You know what’s hotter, though? One of my best friends, Logan. There’s just something so je ne sais quoi about that beautiful man. Anyways.”

Your breath hitched. Suddenly, a wave of goosebumps cascaded over your skin, and it was like the world just stopped making sense. Why did this suddenly feel sort of.. good? Minus the incessant yapping and endless sidetracked one-sided conversation, you wanted more. More of whatever this was. 

And Wade granted your wish. He pulled the fabric of your thong to the side with his other hand and gently prodded your clit with the tip of his pistol. 

He was taken aback when you moaned softly at the sensation. 

“Oh?” he said as he raised an eyebrow.

He pressed the gun even harder onto your pink pearl, eliciting another sigh. 

“Huh. Color me impressed,” he muttered. “This entire time I thought you were fighting for your life but you are actually enjoying this? You dirty little slut! And here I thought you were prim proper little miss perfect..”

“Why.. why are you stopping?” you breathed, a splash of pink brightening up your cheeks, causing him even more of a surprise. “Just keep.. Keep going.”

And to his own dismay, he obliged. 

“How would you feel if I did this?” Wade asked, but before you could even react, he had already shoved the barrel of the gun deep into your cunt. 

You tossed your head back in response, moaning helplessly as he pushed the pistol in and out of your swollen pussy.

“Ah, ah~” you cried out, instinctively spreading your legs open to allow him even more access.

“Now that’s a good girl!” he encouraged, taking note of your subtle invitation and pushing it even harder and deeper than he did before. “Wow. You know, this has been truly enlightening, Y/N. I never in a million years would have guessed you of all people would turn out to be a freak! And you, my friend, are the freakiest of the freaks.”

“I-I am not!” you protested, gasping as you felt the cold steel pushing heartlessly against your walls. “I like normal things too.”

“Uh huh,” Wade said as he continued to fuck your insides relentlessly with his gun. “And I am a three-headed sabertooth tiger named Richard. See? We can all tell lies to ourselves! It’s fun.” 

You could feel yourself practically melting into his hands, your soul floating into the ceiling until you heard it. The click. 

“Well, it has been real Y/N,” Deadpool sighed, his index finger resting comfortably on the trigger. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell had the time of my life! Shit, if we didn’t meet under these circumstances, we absolutely would have hit it off in another reality. As in, I would have fucked you in a multitude of positions in a variety of exotic outdoor locations! Unfortunately, however, the fun and games have to come to an end somehow. I mean, wouldn’t you agree?”

You felt as if your heart was about to both break and jump out of your chest simultaneously. 

“B-but..” you tried to reason with him. Not that it was any use, of course. “I really liked this..”

“I know, babe,” Wade cooed, his free hand snaking up and gripping around your throat tightly. “But if I don’t kill you now, I probably never will because you are just too cute. And sometimes I just can’t help myself but make stupid decisions.”

“Please don’t kill me,” you begged, looking up at him. 

Wade was just about to pull the trigger until you caught his eye.

“Aw, FUCK!” he shouted, immediately removing the gun from your dripping snatch. “Don’t.. don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you inquired innocently, tilting your head to the side. 

“That!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards your face. “Looking up at me with those big, stupid adorable eyes. You know I can’t help myself when you do that.” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you shrugged. “Besides, I thought you had already made up your mind. You sounded pretty sure of yourself after all.”

“You know, you really are a little shit, you know that?” Deadpool fired back, placing his hands on his hips. “God, and this was supposed to be sexy and dangerous, but you totally ruined the atmosphere.”

You smiled to yourself, self-assured in your victory. “Well, does that mean you are going to let me go?”

“Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself,” Wade responded, untying your ropes and smacking you on the ass as you stood up. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Before you walked out of the warehouse, you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek over his mask. “Thank you.”

“Go, GO!” he yelled, pushing you towards the exit of the dingy building. “And don’t come back.”

And as soon as you came, you were free. The moonlight poured through the cracks of the tree branches outside and lit up your face. The door slammed behind you in a dramatic fashion. And with that, you finally felt yourself settling into another moment of peace. 

[maldaptivedreamer]

...Ride A Cowboy - Arcane

It’s been quiet, suspiciously quiet, since John skipped town. His presence lingers in your mind, haunts your home. And despite the time that has passed, the strain between you and your mother remains. It may have eased slightly, but it's still there, hiding in every word and whispered with every civil greeting.

And then there's Sevika.

A new kind of tension manifests itself between the two of you. You find yourself stealing glances at Sevika more often than you'd like to admit. Her presence on the ranch has become a constant, almost comforting in its familiarity. Yet there's an undercurrent of something else, a spark that ignites whenever your eyes meet or your hands accidentally brush.

content: Sevika x fem reader, errors/mistakes, wild west au, outlaw/cowboy sevika, young adult sevika, strained mother/daughter relationship, homophobia, fighting/violence, death/murder, blood, gun/knife, name calling, canon character cameos, wlw smut, choking kink cameo, spitting kink, praise kink, pain kink, spanking, grinding, fingering, cunnilingus, tribbing, angsty ending, slow burn where??

wc: ~14.2k

a/n: What’s up gang, this part is gonna end pretty angsty so beware of that. Ignore the song choice being totally inaccurate to whatever time this is placed in. I couldn't not pick the "Save A Horse, Ride A Cowgirl" cover by Chloe Breez and Annapantsu for this story. Not really significant in the story tho. Hope to have the 3rd part done and finished soon. Taglist open, just lmk!!

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

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Wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, you glance back at her. “You done already?”

She lets out a soft hum of affirmation and leans against the door, her silver eyes following your every move as you strain to lift a large bundle of hay into a wheelbarrow.

Her gaze lingers on you, admiring you. The corners of her mouth curl up in a mischievous smirk as she speaks up. “You know when I met you, you were wearin’ a skirt. You only save them for special occasions?”

You grunt as you hoist the large bundle onto the wheelbarrow, panting. “I wear ‘em when I can.” You reply with a shrug, shooting her a smile as you adjust the gloves on your clammy hands. “What can I say?… I like my skirts and I like my pants.”

As you push the wheelbarrow out to the horse pasture, Sevika trails behind you. Her slow, admiring gaze travels from your hat down to your booted feet. You feel heat rise to your cheeks under her intense gaze.

"I really do like your skirts." She says, her voice low and husky. She glances down at you, licking her lips. "And I like your pants too, angel." The intensity of her stare makes your core ache with desire.

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your bashful smile as Sevika steps closer to you. The heat of her breath dances across your tingling skin as she grasps your face in her hand, the roughness of her callused fingers pressing into your cheeks as she squeezes them.

A teasing glint sparkles in her eye as she scolds you. "You seem to do that a lot, sweetheart." She says, her voice laced with amusement. “That rollin’ your eyes nonsense may get you into trouble one day.”

Chewing on your lip, you look at her through a veil of heavy eyelashes. “Maybe I like trouble, Sev.” You reply coyly.

A smirk curls on Sevika's lips as she rubs her thumb just beneath your bottom lip and you shiver. “Sev huh?” She says with amusement.

“Mhmm.” You hum, unable to suppress a smile.

Sevika's large stallion nudges between you, interrupting the moment and causing both of you to break away with a laugh. You send her an amused glance before turning your attention to the horse, petting him affectionately. “Yah know, you never told me what his name was.”

She takes a step back, her eyes flicking over to you with a questioning glance. “He doesn’t have one. Why would I need to give him one?”

Your eyes widen in shock as you gape at her. Blinking rapidly, you wave your hands at him. “Why wouldn’t you give him a name!? He deserves one!” 

“What like Honey?” She sends you a look and you glare at her. “He's a horse. He doesn't need a name."

Your glare falls as you gasp dramatically, placing your hands over his ears. "Don't listen to her, boy. She doesn't know what she's talkin’ about." You coo at the horse, stroking his mane.

Sevika watches you with amusement, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Fine… What do you think?"

You pause, studying the stallion intently. You shrug. "You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

Sevika snorts, her nostrils flaring in exasperation. "I don’t know. Stubborn shit."

Sending her a smirk, you laugh. "Must take after his rider." Sevika rolls her eyes in response, and you give the horse’s cheek another soft pat. “Maybe just take some time to think on it.”

Sevika silently watches as you hum in the silence, spoiling the large horse with attention. 

Suddenly, her stance changes. Glaring at the sky, Sevika sets her hands on her hips, her frustration palpable. “Why’d your mom keep him ‘round for so long?” She asks bluntly.

You briefly pause before continuing to brush your hand over the stallion’s nose, lost in thought. Sighing through your nose, your voice is quiet and contemplative. “She wanted me to marry him.” Your hand falls from the stallion.

Feeling the need to distract yourself, you move to the wheelbarrow and attempt to lift a bundle of hay above your head and into the feeder. Your arms tremble with effort. “But we got plenty a’ ranch hands, so I don’t mind runnin’ everythin’ myself.” You grit out with a grunt.

Sevika's lips curl up as she watches you struggle. She slowly shifts closer, her silver eyes sparkling.

Seeing her move to help you, you frantically shake your head. “Hey! I can-”

Ignoring your protests, she gently pushes you aside and effortlessly tosses the hay into the feeder. Giving you a cocky smirk, she silently returns to her spot and you gape at her. 

Her smirk widens as she leans back, looking down her nose at you. "Careful, angel." She taunts playfully. “You might catch somethin’ with your mouth wide open like that.”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you give her an indignant shout, quickly turning to cover your face. Your voice trembles with flustered frustration as you continue. “As I was sayin’… I don’t need a husband to take care of. Mama’s just worried I’ll be lonely, I guess.” Your words become quieter and more guarded.

“No one in town good enough for you?” She pries.

Avoiding her gaze, you scratch at your neck nervously. “I-I don’t think so, no… Plus they don’t really like me, so…” You trail off.

Scoffing in disbelief, Sevika's voice grows indignant. “Why wouldn’t they like you?”

Rolling your eyes, you groan. “Well, it doesn’t matter. There’s not really anyone who’s uhh- my type. Yah know?” You finish with an awkward shrug, feeling self-conscious under her intense gaze.

With a playful nudge, she raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s your type, angel?”

Avoiding the question, you forcefully fling off your gloves and toss them into the wheelbarrow. Rubbing your hands over your face in frustration, you begin to pace back and forth.

“Well they don’t like me, cause of this dumb rumor. Somebody started goin’ round town spreadin’ this rumor that I like women. Which means that people keep their distance from me.” You confess, angrily etching a path in the dirt with your steps. “I mean, some of them are nice to my face, but-”

“Do you?” She interrupts, her voice intense but devoid of judgement.

You chew your lip nervously, studying her features for any sign of disapproval. Releasing a shaky breath, you shrug helplessly as your arms flop down by your sides. “I- I think I do… I- I like women.” You finally confess, stuttering over your words. “Have for a- a long time, I guess.”

Her voice is husky and alluring as she gazes at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Come here.” She commands.

Your heart flutters in your chest at her tone, your breath catching in your throat as you take hesitant steps towards Sevika. 

She reaches out and hooks a finger into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you closer until your bodies are pressed together. Your pulse races as she looks down at you, her silver eyes darkening with desire.

"There's nothin' wrong with likin' women." Sevika purrs, her thumb tracing small circles on the skin of your hip. "Nothin' at all."

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't think it's�� wrong?"

Sevika shakes her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "No, angel. I think it's just fine."

Her hand glides up your arm, leaving a trail of raised hairs and goosebumps in its wake. Her hand lingers at your throat, fingers wrapping around the base with a light but firm squeeze. A gasp escapes your lips as you lean into her touch; her chest rumbles against you as she chuckles.

With a gentle lift of her hand under your chin, she tilts your head upwards. She drags her thumb over your bottom lip, tracing the curve in tantalizing slow motion.

Flicking your tongue out, you stare at her beneath your eyelashes as you nip at the tip of her thumb. She releases your lip with a grunt and your eyes drift closed as you feather your lips against hers in a tentative peck. Your lips barely touch and Sevika resists the urge to smile at your timidness.

Swallowing nervously, you grow more desperate for her you kiss her again, deepening the kiss. 

Her lips are like velvet against yours, moving with a practiced ease. You let out a small moan as she guides your movements, her hand threading through your hair, the other squeezing the plushness of your hip. Your body responds eagerly, melting into her touch as your hands find their way to rest on her cheeks.

A small whimper escapes you as Sevika's tongue traces your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You part your lips, and her tongue slides against yours. The taste of her overwhelms your senses - a hint of mint and tobacco, mixed with something uniquely Sevika.

Your inexperience shows in the slight awkwardness of your movements, but Sevika doesn't seem to mind. She pulls you closer, bending her knee and grinding you onto her thigh.

Your legs tremble beneath you at the sensation and your hands fly to her shoulders for support. She consumes the moan that escapes your lips as she rubs your core against the muscle of her thigh.

Sevika breaks the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. As you look up at her, you notice a dark wave of arousal hiding the grey of her eyes. "You okay, angel?"

You can only nod, unable to form words as your lips tingle. Every nerve in your body hums with a desperate hunger for more.

Sevika's thumb traces your swollen bottom lip, forehead resting on yours. "Been wantin' to do that for a while now." She admits with a raspy chuckle.

Your heart races at her words, a mix of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. "Me too." You reply breathily, your fingers clenching the fabric of her shirt as you grind against her thigh. “I- Can we do more?” You plead.

She nods, her intense gaze locked on yours as her hands find their way to your hips, grinding you down onto her knee. "Like what, angel?" She teases, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Leaning in closer, your lips brush against Sevika's ear as you whisper desperately. "Everything. I want to feel you." You whimper.

A low growl rumbles in Sevika's chest at your words, a primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. In one fluid and powerful motion, she grasps the back of your thighs and effortlessly lifts you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around her waist as she carries you to her horse, your heart racing with excitement.

"Where are we going?" You ask, trying to steady your voice but failing as it trembles with anticipation.

"Somewhere more private." Sevika murmurs.

She carefully places you onto the horse's back before swinging on behind you. The saddle is a tight fit with both of you on it, but you hardly notice as Sevika's hand falls to the horn of the saddle. You gasp as her other hand moves under your shirt and fans over your stomach. Bending to your ear, she hoarsely mumbles into your skin. “Found a spot that I think you’ll like, angel.” 

Your cheeks flush as heat spreads down to your chest and further to fill your core. You can feel the muscles in Sevika's thighs clench as she urges the horse forward.

With each trot, Sevika's hand on the saddle grinds into you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “Sevika, how far is it?” You whine, desperate for release.

Pecking your cheek, she hums. “It’s not far, angel. Surely you can be patient for me, can’t you?”

With tears in your eyes and a pleading grip on her hand, you guide it further down to your stomach. “Can’t. I need you, please.”

Biting at your jaw, she cups your core and grinds her palm against you. “Look at you angel, so desperate.” Sevika mocks.

Your hand grips tightly onto her thigh as the other holds her hand against the heated pool between your legs. Your hips buck eagerly into her palm as breathy moans escape your lips.

"That's it, angel. Let me hear those pretty sounds." Sevika purrs into your neck, sucking on a spot below your ear.

You whimper as her fingers increase the pressure against you through the denim. The roughness of the material combined with the rhythmic movement of the horse beneath you creates an intoxicating sensation that has you squirming in the saddle with pleasure.

Sevika's arm wraps tightly around your waist, steadying you. "Easy there, angel." Her warm breath tickles your ear as she whispers softly. "Don't want you fallin' off now."

"Sev, please." Your words come out in gasps, your head falling back against her broad shoulder.

Her words are teasing, taunting. ”What would you have me do, angel? Stuff you full of my fingers where anyone can see?” She pauses, letting out a degrading laugh. “But maybe you would like that, wouldn’t you? If I shoved my fingers knuckle-deep inside of you and showed everyone that you were mine to touch.”

Her lips brush against your skin as she drags her nose up your cheek.

“Oh, but I could never do that to you, sweet girl. I’m greedy.” She growls, her teeth possessively sinking into the skin between your neck and shoulder. “I don’t wanna bless anyone with the noises that fall from your pretty lips. Those are only mine to hear.”

A low growl rumbles in her chest as she nuzzles closer to you, her hand trailing down your side. Your fingers tangle in her hair as she soothes the bite mark with her tongue. "We're almost there." She murmurs reassuringly against your skin.

True to her word, Sevika soon guides the horse off the path and through a small gap between the trees.

You gasp as it comes into view. Surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers, is a beautiful garden. The colors of the flowers range from vibrant pinks to soft oranges, creating a peaceful and enchanting atmosphere.

Carefully dismounting from the horse and leading it further into the lush foliage, she guides you off of the stallion with a gentle touch.

Lowering you down onto the soft grass, her body hovers above yours. Sevika's eyes roam over your face, searching for any flicker of hesitation. "You sure about this, angel?" She asks, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and anticipation.

Wordlessly, you grip her shirt and guide her onto your body. Your hands tremble as you press a desperate kiss to her lips, craving the taste of her. As you roll on top of her, straddling her toned frame, a low whimper escapes your throat. You instinctively move your hips, seeking relief for the intense ache between your legs. She sits up, her body moving in perfect sync with your thrusts.

With a sharp intake of breath, you release a guttural moan that echoes through the air as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Her lips travel down your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. Her hand fans against your back while the other squeezes your ass, rolling your hips into her.

Her name escapes your lips in a breathless gasp. You look at her with desire-filled eyes, drinking in the sight of her heaving chest and tangled hair. Stray blades of grass cling to her disheveled strands. With a burst of energy, you push yourself off of her and hold out your hands. “I’ll be right back!” You promise hoarsely before rushing off towards the stallion.

Your heart races with adrenaline, your fingers fumbling with the saddle buckles in your haste. Tossing off the saddle, you snatch the blanket from the horse's back.

As you approach her, panting and flushed with arousal, her expression transforms from confusion to delight as she watches you spread out the blanket on the ground. Sevika's eyes soften as you carefully smooth out the corners, her heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth at your thoughtfulness.

Shifting onto the blanket, she reaches for you, pulling you back into her arms. “Well don’t you know how to treat a lady, angel.” She teases, brushing a stray hair from your face and admiring you. "You're somethin' else, you know that?"

You blush under her intense gaze, suddenly feeling shy. "I just… I want this to be special." You tell her earnestly.

Sevika cups your face in her hands, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. "It already is, angel." She reassures you with a soft smile.

Her tenderness catches you off guard, making your heart flutter. You look up at her, searching her silver eyes. For what exactly, you’re not sure. "Did you mean what you said… before? About being yours?" You ask hesitantly.

Sevika nods without hesitation, her silver eyes only growing softer as she gazes at you. "I did. Do." Leaning in, you capture her lips in a clumsy kiss.

Sevika gently rolls you onto the blanket, not separating from your lips. You arch into Sevika's touch as she slowly lifts your shirt, her calloused hands caressing your bare skin. A shiver runs through your body, echoed by the flutter in your core. Sevika breaks the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

You whimper softly as Sevika trails kisses along your collarbone and down towards your breasts. Your hands tangle in her hair as she moves lower, teasing you through the thin fabric of your bra. With deft fingers, she stretches it over your head, leaving you exposed.

Sevika takes a moment to admire you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're perfect, angel." She says before slowly, torturously slowly, leaning in to capture one of your nipples between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it teasingly.

A guttural moan escapes your lips and your hands eagerly push underneath her shirt, nails raking over her back. She responds with a low moan and a shiver.

Her fingers, skilled and experienced, unbutton your pants effortlessly. As she slips her thick, warm fingers into your panties, she growls in approval at the wetness that greets her.

She gives your nipple a tantalizing roll between her teeth before releasing it with a wet pop.

As Sevika's thick finger dips into you, coated in your slick arousal, you gasp and spread your legs wider around her. Her intense gaze never falters as she watches your face intently. Her other hand soothingly rubs your thigh as she whispers in your ear. "You’re gorgeous, angel." She whispers, planting a series of soft kisses along your jaw. "So pretty spread out for me."

Every touch and whisper from Sevika's lips sends a shiver down your spine. You force yourself to relax into her ministrations, letting go as she circles your clit with her thumb. The rough pad leaves you moaning and clawing at her shirt.

"That's it, angel." Sevika encourages, adding another finger and curling them both inside you. "You sound so pretty and I wanna hear more. Will you give me more?" Her husky voice rumbles through your chest and you nod eagerly.

Speaking past a pleasured cry, your voice warbles with need. “Need more Vika. Wanna see you.” With shaky fingers, you reach for the hem of her shirt and lift it.

Sevika chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that sends another wave of heat through you. She withdraws her fingers, eliciting a whine from you. But your disappointment is short-lived as she swiftly rips her shirt open, revealing taut muscles and her soft breasts. A white bandage wraps around her stomach and some of your lust fades as you stare at it.

"Better?" She purrs, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You feel her hands pulling your pants down your legs, the cool air hitting your skin as your panties fall with them.

Pausing, you press your hands to her chest. “Wait, Sevika. Your stomach. Should we be doing this?” You ask, concerned.

Bending to leave wet kisses on your neck, she mumbles. “I’m fine, angel. Don’t worry about me.”

Sevika’s fingers return to their place in your warmth while her lips find yours. She inhales the surprised gasp that falls from your tongue. She consumes every muffled gasp, every desperate moan.

Your hands roam over her skin, careful of her wound, tracing the lines of her muscles and the curves of her body. She shivers under your touch, breaking the kiss to let out a soft moan as your breasts rub against hers.

With a wet peck to your cheek, Sevika lowers herself between your legs and your hands reluctantly fall from her skin. Rising on your elbows, you watch as she trails kisses down your stomach before her mouth reaches your core. Her eyes darken at the sight and scent of you, and she growls softly before delving into you with her tongue. The sound reverberates through you, and she groans.

Your head rolls back, mouth falling open in a silent plea as you grind against Sevika. Your core clenches at the wet sounds of Sevika's fingers moving inside you.

A sharp intake of breath escapes your lips as she roughly shoves her fingers into you, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your head whips towards her, eyes wide and pleading as she stills. With a harsh suck, she parts from your throbbing clit, her voice a breathy rasp. “Watch.” She demands.

Tears cloud your eyes as you nod, your arms trembling. Her dark eyes gleam with satisfaction as she flicks her tongue out with a harsh lick and a smirk playing on her lips. “Good girl."

“Please, Sevika.” You shakily beg.

Sevika pulls you closer, her arm wrapping around your thigh as she brings you deeper into her mouth. Her warm tongue flattens against your clit as her thick fingers curl inside you with each thrust. Your moans blend with her satisfied groans and skin slapping against skin.

“You taste heavenly, angel.” She praises before diving back into you.

Your hand tightens around hers on your thigh, while the other twists and pulls at her hair. Your body curls, every muscle tensing as a deep, guttural moan escapes your lips. “S’vika!”

As you approach your peak, drool trails down the corner of your lips. Your eyes water as you struggle to keep them open, finding yourself powerless against Sevika's intense grey gaze that holds you hostage as she watches you.

With one hand clenched tightly around both of your fumbling hands, Sevika's fingers continue to twist inside you. Her tongue continues its relentless movements without faltering or slowing down at your cries.

Overwhelmed, you whine. “Vika, I can’t.”

Your trembling thighs tighten around her head as she pulls her slick fingers from your body. Her glistening fingers fall to your thigh as she hungrily devours you, running her tongue up your slit before filling you. Sevika eagerly drinks every drop you have to offer, her mouth a wet and sloppy mess on your core. You can feel the pressure mounting within you again.

Sevika's mouth licks and sucks at your pussy, pushing you towards a second climax. You're teetering on the edge, your hands clawing against her restrictive hand as your breasts heave with each panting breath.

"Sevika, please." You gasp, your voice hoarse and desperate. "I can't take anymore." You sob.

But she doesn't let up, her gaze ravenous as she continues her ministrations. You feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your muscles tensing as the pressure builds.

With a light drag of her teeth on your sensitive nub, you're sent hurtling over the edge. A strangled cry tears from your throat as your back arches off the blanket. Your vision goes white as waves of pleasure crash over you, more intense than before.

Sevika works you through your orgasm, her movements gentler now as she eases you down from your high.

With one final swallow, she rises up and licks her shimmering lips, a satisfied smile on her face. Your entire body is still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasms and your eyes dilate as she thrusts her fingers into her mouth. Letting out a deep groan, her eyelids flutter as she savors the taste of you on her tongue.

Reaching for your chin, she grasps your cheeks tightly and pulls your mouth open. You instinctively outstretch your tongue.

She drops a mixture of your essence and her saliva onto your waiting tongue, watching intently as it gathers on the pink of your tongue. With a rough shake of your chin, she mumbles darkly. “Swallow, angel.”

The feeling of her touch sends shivers down your spine as you comply with her demand. She grunts, eyes falling down to your throat as you swallow, rubbing her slick thumb over your lips roughly before withdrawing her hand.

Sevika collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms. You curl into her warmth, your body still trembling slightly. She presses soft kisses to your forehead, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"You okay, angel?" She murmurs, her voice tender.

You nod, nuzzling into her neck. "More than okay." You whisper. "That was… Thank you."

"You did so well, angel." She says, tilting your chin up to look at her. Her silver eyes are soft as they roam your face. "So perfect for me."

A blush creeps up your cheeks at her words. You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “You’re awful good with your hands, cowboy.” You murmur against her mouth.

Sevika chuckles, her body shaking beneath you as looks at you in amusement. "Just my hands?" She smirks, a teasing glint in her eyes.

A playful glint sparks in your eyes as you roll them, but your grin only grows wider. Your thumb traces over her plump lips, eliciting a flicker of her tongue against the soft pad. “Maybe your mouth has its uses too.” You purr, teasingly.

"Well, I’m yours to use and put to work, angel." She winks before capturing your lips again, claiming your mouth as sloppily as she did your pussy.

Brushing a thumb over her pebbled nipple, you slowly draw a line down her stomach, tracing the curve of her body. As you reach for the button of her pants, her hand stops you, halting your movements.You feel a twinge of embarrassment, thinking that maybe she doesn't want you to pleasure her in return.

Sensing your embarrassment, she gently lifts your face by your chin and meets your eyes with a soft smile. “As much as I want you angel, this was about you. You can take care of me some other time, hmm?”

You bite down a giddy smile. “Another time?” You say shyly.

She lets out a scoff and leans back, tugging you with her until you're lying on top of her. Her hand rests on the small of your back, pulling you closer to her body.

“Yeah, another time… What? Did you think that once was good enough for me angel?” Her chest puffs underneath you. “Told you, angel. You’re mine. You taste heavenly. And I don’t plan on giving that up anytime soon.”

You press a kiss to her neck with a pleased grin. Snuggling even closer to her, your fingers trace delicate patterns on the soft skin just below her breast.

Her grip tightens and she gives you a light squeeze. “You effectively reassured now, angel, or do I need to whisper some more sweet nothin’s?” She sounds equally condescending and caring.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, followed by a cocky shrug. “Wouldn’t hurt to hear how sweet and perfect and heavenly I am.” You mumble with a smirk that more closely resembles a gleeful beam.

Sevika's lips curl up into an amused simper. “Oh, it’d hurt plenty. As sweet as you are, seems the more I tell you, the brattier you get. Wouldn’t want to spoil you.” 

With an incredulous gasp, you lift your head. “Bratty? I am not bratty nor spoiled cowboy.” You protest, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. “I am perfectly humble and grounded.”

Before you can argue further, her hand comes down with a sharp smack on your bare ass. A yelp escapes your lips as a flush creeps over your skin.

“Maybe you’re just perfect for everyone else, angel, but on our way over here, you were anything but. Used my hand to get off, angel, right out in the open.” She rasps out teasingly.

With a playful tap on your backside, she begins to knead it beneath her palm. “But we can do that later, right, angel? We have plenty of time to work on your manners.” Your body shivers in response and you nervously lick your lips before nodding. “Good girl.” She mumbles against the crown of your head.

As you both lay in each other's embrace, the outside world begins to invade your peaceful bubble.

Fiddling with her finger, you frown as you look up at her. “I- I don’t wanna hide this but my mama…” Your voice trails off as you swallow the lump in your throat, speaking in a whisper. “I think she knows, but she’s ignorin’ it. Just hopin’ that it’ll go away.” You say stiffly.

Pressing your face into Sevika’s skin, you let her scent, her touch, comfort you. “That’s- that’s one of the reasons I’ve been such a cunt to her. Cause it feels like she wants me to be different. Like she’ll only love me until she can’t ignore it anymore. Until I don’t let her ignore it.”

Smoothing a hand over your back, her voice is steady in promise. “Well, I’ll be here with you either way.”

You nod against Sevika's skin, comforted by her words but still anxious. "Thank you." You murmur softly. "I just… I don't know how to tell her."

Sevika's hand continues its soothing motions. "We'll figure it out together, angel. There's no rush. We can take it slow, tell her when you're ready."

You lift your head to meet her eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Together, huh?"

She nods, her silver eyes soft but determined. "Together."

As the sun dips lower in the sky, you snuggle closer to Sevika's body heat. "We should probably start headin’ back." You say reluctantly with a sigh, pushing yourself to your feet.

Sevika watches you slowly dress, her hand propped up behind her head. A smile tugs at her lips as she sends you small glances and laughs when you roll your eyes while pulling on your shirt. 

“You know, you’re a real bad influence.” You playfully scold her. “Made me miss a whole day of work.”

Chuckling, she sits up and puts on her own shirt. “A bad influence, huh? Didn’t hear you complainin’ much when you were cummin’ on my fingers, angel.”

With a gentle hand on your calf, she pulls you towards her. Lifting the hem of your shirt, she trails kisses along your navel. You resist the growing hunger inside of you and instead press your hands to her cheeks. Tipping her face up, you give her a pointed look at her roguish smirk.

Licking your lips, you place a chaste kiss on her nose. “Easy cowboy. Wasn’t complainin’. I like your influence on me… Can’t wait to return the favor.”

Pressing a thumb to her bottom lip, you give her a light peck. “Can’t wait to taste you. To hear your pretty sounds while you ride my tongue.” Pulling away, you send her a heated smirk as you turn. “How’s that phrase go, ‘Save A Horse’…”

Your teasing words leave Sevika momentarily speechless, her eyes darkening with desire. She quickly recovers, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest as she stands and pulls you back against her.

"Careful, angel." She murmurs in your ear, her hands roaming your sides. "Keep talkin' like that and we might not make it back to the ranch."

You lean into her touch, tempted to give in to the heat building between you once again. But the fading light reminds you of your responsibilities back home.

With a tempted grunt, you turn in Sevika's arms and press a soft kiss to her lips. "As much as I'd love to stay out here with you all night, we better head back before my mama sends out a search party."

Sevika chuckles, snatching up the blanket and intertwining her fingers with yours as you walk back to the horse. "Wouldn't want that. Though I'm not sure how we'll explain why we were gone so long."

You bite your lip. "We'll think of something. Maybe we can say we were… exploring new grazing land for the animals?"

Sevika raises an eyebrow, smirking as she drops your hand. "Exploring, huh? That's one way to put it."

You playfully swat her arm, but can't help your giggle. "You’re right. I’ll just tell her that we were exploring each other’s supple and womanly bodies." Your sarcastically retort, helping her resecure the saddle.

As you both mount her stallion, you sigh leaning back into her. “I won’t tell her what we were doin’, but if she directly asks, I won’t deny it. I meant it when I said I don’t wanna hide this, hide you.”

Wrapping her arms around you, she grips the lead and presses her nose into the skin of your shoulder. She tries to disguise the emotion in her voice as you caress her forearms. “That’s good, angel, cause you look thoroughly fucked and I’m not sure how you’ll be able to hide it.”

A burst of laughter escapes your chest and you roll your head back on her shoulder. “Well can’t say I much mind looking ‘thoroughly fucked’ as you so eloquently put it.” Lowering your hand, you thread your fingers through hers.

As you approach the ranch, the sun has nearly set, casting long shadows across the fields. Your heart races with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Sevika's presence behind you is comforting, her arms wrapped securely around your waist.

Slowly, your mother comes into view. Just a small blurred figure on the porch, but you can already feel the infuriated aura radiating off of her.

Releasing a breath of air in resignation, you mutter. “If you don’t wanna deal with her, then I’m fine bein’ dropped off here.”

Sevika scoffs and your head moves with the motion. “M’ not gonna make you walk.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t nee-”

“‘Specially with the way your legs shook around me earlier.” She interrupts, rubbing her hands over the top of your thighs.

Sevika's teasing words make you flush with heat and you elbow her in the ribs, with a small smile.

"Go fuck yourself." You mutter, though there's no real bite to your words.

“Why do that when I have you to do it for me?” She retorts immediately. Shaking your head, you ignore her as you approach the house.

You can see your mother's figure more clearly on the porch. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, her foot tapping impatiently. The sight makes your stomach clench with anxiety.

Sevika must sense your tension because she gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be alright, angel." She murmurs, her breath warm against your ear. "I'm right here with you."

You nod, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as Sevika brings the horse to a stop in front of the house. Sevika dismounts and you quickly do the same.

Your mother’s gaze follows every movement. Lingering on the way Sevika’s hands gently steady you as you step down, hovering around your waist before falling away. Her eyes narrow on the soft smile that you send the taller woman. Sharpen into a glare as you step into the light, revealing your disheveled appearance. 

"Where have you two been?" She demands, her voice sharp with worry and anger.

Already exhausted, you sigh out. “Why? Did you need me here to run your ranch?”

Ignoring your thinly veiled jab, she continues. "I almost sent someone out lookin’ for you!"

A soothing warmth radiates from Sevika's presence behind you, dispelling the lingering anxieties and fears within. “Well I’m glad you didn’t mama.” You sigh out. Turning to face Sevika, you chew on your lip.

Sevika observes you in silence, her expression growing pleasantly surprised as your hands gently frame her face.

With a sudden burst of courage, you rise on your toes and plant a short but sweet kiss on her lips. The radiant glow on your face is almost blinding as you smile, whispering to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Sevika's eyes search your face for any signs of hesitation, but finding none, she nods, sending your mother a glare. Slowly, she makes her way towards her stallion and begins walking towards the stables.

Inhaling deeply, you face your mother with a mix of determination and nervousness. Your mother's face cycles through a range of emotions - shock, confusion, and finally, a flicker of understanding. Her eyes dart between you and the stables, her brow furrowed.

"Mama." You begin, your voice steady despite the trembling in your hands. "I know this isn't what you wanted for me. But, quite frankly, I don’t give a shit.”

You wave your hands in emphasis. “Sevika… she makes me happy. Happier than I've ever been."

Your mother's mouth opens and closes, no words coming out. You take advantage of her silence to continue. "I'm not askin' for your approval. I'm just askin'- tellin’ you to stop ignorin’ it. To see me for who I am, not who you want me to be."

Your mother's lips press into a thin line, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How long?" She finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's new. Like today new." You admit. "But my feelings… they've always been there. Not just for Sevika, but for women in general…"

You lean onto the porch railing, your eyes searching hers. “And I think you’ve known that for a while.”

A heavy silence falls over the porch. You can hear the distant sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking fills the air. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to be consumed by the calmness of the night.

Her voice breaks the stillness, raw with emotion. “I want grandkids.” She croaks.

Dropping your head, a shaky laugh escapes your lips. “And I want kids. But it’s too soon to know if it’d be with Sevika.”

She covers her mouth with trembling hands as she stifles a sob. “I-I love you.” She chokes out between tears. “And I’m gonna try. I want to try.”

She shakes as she wraps her arms tighter around herself. “I’m so sorry.”

You silently watch her curl into herself, not reaching out a comforting hand. The softness in your voice matches the firmness of your words. “I love you too… And while I really wish it wasn’t this hard for you, wish that you didn’t feel sorry for who I am attracted to… I appreciate you trying.” Releasing a heavy breath, you tap the wooden rail and turn to walk away.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. For-for not being there, for not being a mom.” Her voice cracks and you pause, your hand resting on the doorknob.

You don't turn back, but nod in acknowledgement, eyes briefly glancing down at the ground. Letting out a sigh, you twist the doorknob and leave her with her thoughts.

The early morning sun filters through your bedroom window, casting a warm glow across your face. You stretch lazily, a content smile spreading on your face. 

You’re fucking gay.

It feels freeing to admit it. The weight that had been pressing on your chest for so long has finally lifted. The past week with Sevika has filled you with a newfound sense of freedom and joy.

As you dress, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. There's a brightness in your eyes that wasn't there before, a confidence in the way you carry yourself.

Heading downstairs, you find your mother already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. There's still a tension in the air between you, but it's different now - less suffocating, more like the growing pains of a relationship in transition.

"Mornin', mama." You greet steadily.

As you look up at her, you notice the redness in her eyes. She responds softly, with a hint of strain in her voice. “Mornin’.”

Your stomach grumbles as you eye the toast and strips of bacon on the table. You can't help but sneak a slice and a few strips before she swats at your hand. With a grunt, you shovel the food into your mouth.

“See y’later.” You manage to muffle through a mouthful of food.

You hear her grumble in disgust as you rush out the front door. Excitedly making your way to the stables, you begin unlocking the stall doors connected to the horse pasture. Each lock softly clicks open and the horses trot out of their stalls.

Honey is waiting patiently in her stall, her soft brown eyes watching you with anticipation. You press your forehead against hers, enjoying the tickle of her mane against your nose.

“How you feelin’ girl?” She responds with a huff and nudges you affectionately. “Alright, you wanna go for a ride?” Laughing, you take a step back from her.

Strong arms envelop you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Startled, you let out a yelp as you're twirled around in a circle. Finally coming to a stop, you lean back into the warmth behind you and catch your breath. “I’d love to go for a ride too, angel.” She whispers in your ear, voice still gravelly with sleep.

Giggling, you swat at her before spinning around to face her. You quickly press a kiss to her plush lips and she follows as you lean back, readjusting your hat. Her arms tighten around your body, pulling you closer to her chest while her own hat sits loosely on top of her head.

“Good mornin’ gorgeous.” You greet her with a grin.

Sevika’s eyes narrow on you. “Mornin’.” Drawing a line on your face with the tip of her nose, she huffs. “What kinda kiss was that angel?” She mumbles discontentedly into your cheek.

Removing your hat, you wrap your arms around Sevika's neck and cover her lips with your own. She lets out a satisfied grunt as her hands wander down to squeeze your rear. Tracing her bottom lip with your tongue, you tilt your head to deepen the kiss.

Sevika lifts you effortlessly, her strong arms gripping your thighs as she presses your back against the wall. You moan as her big hands engulf and knead your ass. Your hats float to the ground, forgotten, as you run your fingers through her silky hair.

You gasp for air as she breaks away from you, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your throat until she reaches your chest. Her hips grind into yours, and your thighs tighten around her. Pulling her hair and she separated from your skin with a wet smack. Moaning, you flatten your tongue on her neck. She groans as you nibble and suck on the sensitive skin.

The sound of awkward shuffling feet and throat clearing breaks through the passionate haze. Both of you turn to see a group of ranch hands standing at the entrance to the stables, their eyes wide and faces flushed with embarrassment. Each one looks anywhere but directly at you two entangled in each other.

With a soft sigh, Sevika slowly releases her hold on you and takes a step back. You linger on the wall and roll your eyes at the unmoving ranch hands nearby. Dusting off your hats, Sevika gently places your hat on your head before adjusting her own.

Resuming your task of saddling Honey, you playfully tap Sevika's ass as you pass her. “Ready to ride, cowboy?”

She returns your mischievous grin with a sly wink. “I’m always ready for a ride, angel.”

Saddling your horses side by side, you exchange flirty glances. With a click of your tongue, you hop onto Honey's back.

“C’mon slowpoke.” You tease. “Would hate for your old ass to get left behind.”

Sevika rolls her eyes with a scoff. “My old ass?”

You give her a firm nod. “Remember when you passed out in my arms cause you were tired.”

Narrowing her eyes at you as she swings her leg over the saddle. “Do you mean when I was bleeding out?”

You shrug nonchalantly and scrunch your nose at her as you ride by. “Eh, same difference, cowboy.”

Shaking her head, she follows. “I was right. You’re a real brat, angel.”

“Easy, handsome.” You chuckle out. “Else I’d think you were startin’ to really like me.” With a smirk, you urge Honey faster and take off.

The wind rushes past you as you gallop ahead, Sevika hot on your heels. There’s a playful competitiveness between the two of you as you race down the dusty path.

Giggling, you slow your pace as a familiar set of trees comes into view.

Falling into place beside you, she leans toward you with a playful grin. Her vibrant silver eyes sparkle in the sunlight as she teases. “For the record, I more than just like you, angel.”

As a fuzzy feeling spreads through your stomach, you both move through the trees. The hidden garden is just as enchanting as it was the first time. Budding tulip flowers have begun sprouting among the bouquet of pink and orange wildflowers.

Swinging your leg around, your boots sink into the soft grass. As you reach for the extra blanket you brought, she watches you intently with a hunger in her eyes. You spread out the blanket and turn to face her, slowly starting to undress with a cocky brow.

Her gaze traces over your exposed skin hungrily as she leans forward on her saddle. “Y’know, I’m startin’ to think you just want me for my body, angel.”

Your smile grows wider at her words and you raise a skeptical brow. “And would that be so bad, cowboy?”

Sevika dismounts her horse in one fluid motion, her eyes never leaving yours. She stalks towards you with predatory grace, smirking. "Not bad at all, angel. But I think we both know it's more than that."

She pulls you flush against her body, her hands roaming over your exposed skin. You shiver at her touch, heat pooling in your core. You wrap your arms around her neck, fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape.

"Maybe." You tease, your lips brushing against hers as you speak. "But right now, I just wanna feel you."

Pressing a soft kiss on her bottom lip, your fingers work at the buttons of her shirt. “Taste you.“ You breathe.

Sevika chuckles, the sound low and husky. "Is that so?" Her hands slide down to your hips, squeezing the plush flesh.

Humming your affirmation, you trail kisses down her chest as you gently push her shirt down her shoulders. Sevika's breath catches in her throat and she smooths a hand over your hair as you lower to your knees, gazing at her beneath heavy eyelashes. Unbuttoning her pants, you pull them down with her underwear.

You take a moment to admire her, drinking in the sight of her toned legs and the neat patch of dark hair between her thighs. Licking your lips, you glance up at her with a mischievous smile. "Mind layin’ down for me, cowboy?"

Sevika's silver eyes darken as she nods, her voice husky with arousal. "Sure thing, angel."

She lowers herself onto the blanket. You eagerly move over her, your lips hungrily seeking hers. As your mouths meet, you can feel the quickening of her breath and the tremble of excitement in her lips. Deepening the kiss, you brush your nails through the soft curls between her legs.

Sevika gasps into your mouth as your fingers tease over her. You trail kisses down her neck, savoring the salty taste of her skin. Her hands tangle in your hair as you move lower, lavishing her breasts with attention. You swirl your tongue around a hardened nipple before taking it between your teeth.

A low moan escapes Sevika's throat. Her hips buck up, seeking friction. "Angel." She warns, her voice husky with need.

You smile against her skin, continuing your teasing descent. Pressing a soft kiss to her bandaged stomach, you settle between her legs. The scent of her arousal makes your mouth water.

You press soft kisses along her inner thighs, relishing in the way her muscles twitch beneath your lips. Her hand tangles in your hair, not forceful, just enough pressure to encourage you.

"You look so pretty, Sev." You purr, leaning in close enough that she can feel your warm breath against her sensitive flesh. "So perfect."

With a soft kiss to her mound, you spread her lips open and run your tongue along her slit. Sevika's breath hitches, her fingers tightening in your hair. You moan at the taste of her, your tongue messily exploring her folds.

Sevika's hips buck up against your mouth as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue. Her thighs tremble on either side of your head. You look up at her through your lashes, drinking in the sight of her chest heaving with each panting breath.

"Fuck, angel." Sevika groans, her voice husky with need. "Just like that." Sevika encourages breathlessly, her hand gently guiding your movements.

Encouraged by her words, you increase the pressure of your tongue, alternating between broad strokes and quick flicks across her sensitive bud. You slip two fingers inside her wet heat, curling them in her like she did you. Your other hand falls to her thigh, holding her steady as you devour her.

Sevika lets out a low groan, her back arching off the blanket. Sevika's breathing grows more ragged, her moans increasing in volume. You can feel her muscles tensing beneath your touch.

"Can you show me those pretty eyes, Sev?" You ask, breaking away for just a moment. Sevika's silver eyes snap open, locking onto yours. The intensity of her gaze sends your own core flooding with need.

You maintain eye contact as you lower your mouth back to her core. You suck her clit between your lips, accidentally brushing the swollen bud with your teeth. She cries out in pleasure, her legs convulsing around you and her hand fisting your hair tightly.

You hum in understanding, the vibrations traveling through her body. You gently press your teeth into the sensitive bundle before soothing it with long, slow licks of your tongue. Adding another finger, you roughly thrust into her.

With a strangled cry, Sevika comes undone, tightening her legs and locking you in place. Her back arches off the blanket, her hand forcefully guiding your head into her core as she grinds herself against your face.

You continue your rough ministrations, teasing her until her grip begins to loosen. Her legs twitch open, releasing you. You press a soft kiss on her inner thigh before crawling up her body, savoring the feel of her skin against your own.

Sevika pulls you into a deep, languid kiss, her tongue tangling with yours. When you part, she's looking at you with a mixture of awe and affection.

"Fuck, angel…" Sevika trails off, still catching her breath.

A surge of pride swells within you at the sight of her trembling thighs. You can't help but grin in satisfaction. "So you like it a little rough, cowboy?”

Sevika chuckles, her chest still heaving slightly. "Seems like you do too, angel." Her hand trails down your skin, brushing her fingers through your soaked folds. "Don't think I didn't notice how loud, how wet,  you got."

A blush creeps up your cheeks at her words, but you don't deny it. Instead, you press a soft kiss to her jaw. "Can you blame me? You taste so good, Sev."

Her silver eyes darken at your words. In one swift motion, she flips you onto your back, hovering over you. "My turn, angel." She growls, her voice husky with renewed desire.

Your breath catches in your throat as Sevika forcefully spreads your legs apart. She crosses her leg over yours, the heat of her skin radiating into yours. Her hand tightens around your leg, holding it in place as she lowers herself onto you. The sensation of her against you is like pure silk as she grinds your clits together.

A loud cry erupts from your throat as you throw your hands out to brace yourself, one hand landing on her bandaged stomach. Whimpering with pleasure, you bite down on your lip and glance between her dilated eyes. Swallowing down a moan, you apply slight pressure to the wound.

Her hips stutter above you and her movements become more erratic and urgent, her grip on your leg tightening to the point of bruising.

"Fuck, angel." She growls, her voice husky and strained. "You're playing with fire."

Sevika's eyes are dark and dilated with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her lips parted in a pant as she glances down at you. Her tousled hair falls around her face as she moves above you, her skin glistening with sweat.

“Maybe I like fire, Sev.” You whimper, your hips bucking up to meet hers. Your hand moves from her stomach to her hip, pulling her closer.

A predatory grin spreads across Sevika's face. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers. "Oh, I'm sure you do."

Her teeth graze your earlobe as she leans back. Her palm glides over your thigh, massaging the flesh before striking it.

A cry falls from your mouth as your nails dig into the skin of her hip. With a cocky smirk, she roughly grinds against you. You let out another sharp cry as she delivers another firm hit to your thigh.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as your core clenches. But just as quickly as the stinging sensation on your thigh appears, it’s soothed by her calloused palm, leaving behind a warm and tingly feeling. Struggling to maintain control, you grip the blanket beneath you tightly with your free hand while your hips continue to buck and writhe against hers.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps. The pressure builds within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each roll of her hips. She drags her nails over the throbbing skin on your thigh.

"Sev, I'm so close." You whimper, your voice high and needy.

"You need my permission, baby?" She mocks arrogantly. Grinning sharpy at you, she growls. “Cum for me, angel.”

Despite her teasing, her words push you over the edge. Your hands claw at her thigh and your vision blurs in a haze of tears as waves of pleasure crash over you. Sevika follows shortly after, her body shuddering above you, grunting out your name.

She collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavily. You wrap your arms around her, relishing in the weight of her body against yours. For a moment, you just lay there, heads pressed together, basking in the afterglow.

The humid air is thick with the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat, a heady combination that mixes with the sweet, floral aroma of the surrounding flowers.

Swallowing, you perk up. “Come to the Saloon with me tomorrow.” You pant out.

Your breath stutters in your chest as you bite your lip. She looks beautiful, in her element. Her usually tense muscles are relaxed as she leans back against the seat, one toned arm casually resting on the back of it. The other hand hovers over her cards.

Your eyes follow the slender cigar pressed between her lips, smoke billowing from the corners of her mouth with each exhale. She inhales, her chest puffing out slightly with a small scoff.

The sight of her bare stomach peeking out from under her shirt makes your teeth clench over your lip even harder as you lean back against the rough wooden texture of the bar.

“You’re droolin’.” A deep voice interrupts your thoughts with a chuckle, followed by the sound of liquid pouring into a glass.

“Got a problem with that, Van?” You mumble tensely, still unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Sliding two glasses towards you, he scoffs. “Not at all, kid. Watchin’ you chase after that woman is entertaining.”

You turn to him and press your elbows into the worn wood of the bar. “I’ve done more than chase, old man.” You retort with a playful smirk, the tension in your body slowly easing.

Your smirk fades into a more genuine expression. You trace the grain of the counter with your fingertips as you continue in a whisper. “Thank you… For never treatin’ me differently.”

Vander's thick eyebrows knit together, creating a deep crease on his scruffy face as he lowers his gaze. A flash of sorrow flickers across his features before he quickly hides it and starts drying a glass. “You don’t need to thank me for that, kid… M’ not doin’ anything special.”

Exhaling a disappointed breath, you speak softly. “Wish that was true, Van. I really, really wish that was true.��

Downing the amber liquid in your glass, you carefully slide it back towards Vander with a light tap. He slowly pours more into the glass, clearing his throat and avoiding direct eye contact with you.

“You’re mum’s not talked to you then? I mean, you’ve uh- you’re bein’ safe, right?” He asks awkwardly, his voice filled with concern. He flashes you an uncomfortable, almost fatherly smile. “Diseases are-”

“Oh my god.” You gasp, your eyes bulging in shock. “Please don’t do this. The last thing I wanna talk about right now are sexual diseases before I have sex.” Your heart races and your stomach churns as you stare at him in disbelief.

He lets out a snort, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing. "Fine. I’ll leave you be, kid." He says, almost sounding relieved. “Just be safe.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a glass in each hand. “I hope Felicia’s the one to give the kids the ‘talk’.” You pause, chuckling. “Cause whatever the start of that was, was fucking awful.” With an amused smile, you raise a glass in farewell before walking away. You can hear his deep chuckle following you.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you take slow steps towards Sevika's table. 

“-cures all kinds of pain. Bruises. Sore throat. Animal bites. The poss-” Wincing, you tip-toe around Singed as he pulls another patron into his oil sales pitch.

The noise of the crowded bar surrounds you as you weave between tables, trying to keep your balance on the uneven floor. As you step closer, you find yourself pausing.

Your eyes trail over her toned legs, perfectly displayed under the table, until they land on her core - hidden beneath the fabric of her tight jeans. A rush of desire floods through you and your mouth waters, you tilt your head letting out a heavy breath.

But before you can fully lose yourself, Sevika's amused and cocky voice breaks your daze. “Plannin’ on standin’ there all day, angel?”

Darting your eyes to her competitors, you send her an innocent smile and shrug. “Can’t help the way you stop me in my boots, cowboy.” You gently set the glasses on the table.

She reaches out and her fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt, pulling you onto her lap. “Aww, you just might make me blush angel.”

The two men sitting across the table from her are tense, their bodies rigid and their eyes fixated on the cards in front of them. You observe them with a sense of detached amusement, tilting your head in faux confusion.

“Tell me Sevika.” You begin casually. “I don’t really play poker, but isn’t part of the game observin’ your opponents? Callin’ their bluffs?”

Sevika, with her thick brows raised, glances between the men and then back to you with her silver eyes. “It is.” Staging a whisper, she nips at your chin. “But they aren’t very good, angel.”

You cast a quick glance at the cards and the table before turning back to Sevika with a smirk of your own. “Yah know?” You muse. “When I asked you to come with me to the bar, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

A plume of smoke escapes Sevika's lips as she blows out a cloud of it, her expression teasing. “And what did you mean, angel?” She mumbles, her tone suggestive and playful.

You shrug, leaning back into her. "I dunno." You say with a twinkle in your eye. "Maybe dancin’."

With a casual flick of her wrist, she tosses a few chips onto the pile. Her movements are smooth and confident, exuding a sense of self-assurance. “I don’t do much dancin’, darlin’.” She remarks nonchalantly.

Lowering your lashes and giving her your best smile, you reply in a sugary-sweet tone. “Not even for little ol’ me, cowboy?”

A devilish glint flashes in her eyes as she shakes her head. "Not even for you." She confirms, turning her attention back to the game at hand.

Groaning, you fiddle with her free hand, quickly growing bored. The game drags on, and you find your attention wandering. Your eyes roam the crowded bar, taking in the lively atmosphere.

Suddenly, an idea strikes you. With a mischievous grin, you lean in close to Sevika's ear. "Fine, if you won't dance with me, maybe I'll find someone else who will." You whisper teasingly.

Sevika's hand tightens on your hip, her silver eyes flashing with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness. "Is that so, angel?" She murmurs, her voice low and husky.

You nod, your smile widening. "Mhmm. I'm sure there's plenty of folks here who'd love to dance with me." You make a show of looking around the room, as if searching for a potential dance partner.

Feigning a noise of interest, you nod lazily into the distance. With delicate fingers, you pluck the cigar from Sevika's lips and place it between your own, taking a slow drag. Giving her a quick peck on the lips, you gently return the cigar to its rightful place and slide off of her lap.

“Looks like I found someone, so don’t wait up, cowboy.” You tease, patting her shoulder in goodbye. She snatches your hand and pulls you back into her lap.

Sevika's piercing eyes narrow on you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she absentmindedly throws her cards down onto the table. The sound of groans and curses fills the air.

Rolling her eyes with a sigh, Sevika stubs out her cigar and gestures towards the jukebox. “Find a good song, angel.” She says in a defeated husk.

With an satisfied giggle, you wrap your arms around Sevika's neck and press a soft kiss to her cheek. The worn floorboards creak under your feet as you skip over to the jukebox, excitement bubbling in your chest.

Your fingers trail over the selection of songs, searching for the perfect one. A slow smile spreads across your face as you spot a familiar title.

The opening notes of "Save A Horse, Ride A Cowgirl" fill the air as you turn back to Sevika. She's watching you with a mixture of amusement and affection, her silver eyes soft in the dim light of the bar.

You extend your hand to her, wiggling your fingers with a grin on your face. "May I have this dance, cowboy?"

Sevika rolls her eyes, but there's no real annoyance behind it. She takes your hand, her grip firm and warm. "I suppose, angel." She drawls, letting you lead her to a small clear space near the jukebox.

As you step onto the makeshift dance floor, Sevika's arm wraps around your waist, holding you close. Her other hand intertwines with yours.

She twirls you around, and the flowy skirts of your dress billow out like wings. Your laughter rings through the air as you both move to your own rhythm. Sevika's grin widens as she looks down at you, her eyes shining.

As you and Sevika sway together, lost in your own world, the atmosphere in the bar begins to shift. The music fades into the background as hushed whispers and pointed stares fill the air.

You're vaguely aware of the change, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when Sevika is looking at you like that, her silver eyes soft and veiled in something all-consuming. Her hand is warm and solid on your waist.

"See? Dancing isn't so bad." You tease, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sevika chuckles, the sound rumbling through her chest. "I suppose not, angel. Not with you, at least."

The song comes to an end, but neither of you make a move to separate. Instead, Sevika pulls you closer, her forehead resting against yours. Your hand gently sweeps across her collarbone, tracing the delicate curve of her neck. Your fingers linger on the leather around her neck.

Your hand flattens on her collarbone and you finger at the leather around her neck. “I really like this. Looks good on you.” You mumble.

Sevika's eyes meet yours, and she pecks your nose before pressing her lips against your forehead. She hums, her breath warm against your skin.

Nestled against her warm body, you gently lay your head on her chest and hook your arms around her back. She does the same, holding you close and resting her cheek on your head.

With each gentle rock, a powerful emotion begins to swell in your chest, making it hard to swallow. It's a feeling that you can't quite put into words yet, but it feels overwhelming and intense. Considering the short amount of time you have spent together, it seems almost impossible for this emotion to be so strong.

But as she holds you tight and you feel her warmth seeping into your bones, you know that it doesn't matter how much time has passed. 

You lo-

The heavy wooden doors of the Saloon slam closed with a resounding thud, causing heads to turn towards the entrance. A hush falls over the crowd as they stare at the unexpected intruder.

John.

He saunters in with a casual confidence, his sharp smile oozing with malice as he glances at you and Sevika. His disfigured face, still marred with shades of yellow and green and covered in grime, is repulsive.

Sevika tenses under your palms and you smooth your hands over her shoulders as your eyes cautiously follow John. Seething rage bubbles under your skin at the audacity of the man.

Vander stands stiffly behind the bar, his features hardening as John slowly approaches and takes a seat on a bar stool. Everyone watches, holding their breath as John silently taps his fingers on the counter in front of him.

Vander straightens, his muscles flexing as he wipes his hands on a towel and flings it over his shoulder. His voice is cold as he speaks. “You’re not welcome here.”

John's lips curl into a sneer as he leans forward, his voice dripping with disdain. "That's not very kind of you, Vander. I'm just here for a drink."

The tension in the room is palpable as Vander's jaw clenches. His eyes flick briefly to you and Sevika before returning to John. "I said, you're not welcome. Leave. Now."

John's gaze follows Vander's, landing on you and Sevika. His eyes narrow on your close proximity. "Well, well. Looks like the rumors are true after all." He drawls, his voice laced with disgust.

Sevika's arm tightens around you protectively as she turns to face John, her body partially shielding you. "You got a problem?" She growls, her voice low and threatening. “I’m not sure you’re in the kinda state to be pickin’ fights, boy.”

John stands. The remnants of spit cling to the corners of his cracked lips as he cackles, his laughter echoing off the walls. With a gnarled hand, he wipes away a tear from his crusted face, revealing beady eyes that sparkle with madness. As he stares at you, a twisted grin spreads across his face.

His voice drips with false sweetness, like honey laced with poison. “How’s the ranch doin’?” He pauses, feigning a look of concern.

His gaze moves around the room, taking in every anxious face. "No disasters while I was away, I hope?" A sinister undertone seeps into his words as his leer returns to you. “I’d hate it if somethin’ happened to you.”

Your blood runs cold at John's thinly veiled threat. You feel Sevika's muscles tense beneath your hands as she moves you behind her.

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat." Sevika growls, her voice low and dangerous. Her grey eyes flash with anger as she stares John down.

John holds up his hands in mock innocence, that cruel smile still lingering on his lips. "Just expressing concern for an old friend. No threat intended."

You place a steadying hand on Sevika's arm, feeling the trembling rage in her body.

"The ranch is just fine." You say, your voice cold but steady. "No thanks to you."

John's eyes narrow dangerously, darting between you and Sevika. "Is that so?" He snickers. "Well, accidents can happen so easily on a ranch. Animals die, fences break, fires start…"

"That's enough." Vander's deep voice booms through the room. He steps out from behind the bar, his imposing figure radiating authority. "I won't ask again. Leave."

John's eyes dart between you, Sevika, and Vander. For a moment, it seems like he might back down. But then his face twists into an ugly sneer.

"Or what?" he spits. "You gonna throw me out, old man?"

In a flash, Sevika moves. Before you can even blink, she's across the room, her hand wrapped around John's hair. She slams his cheek into the bar, glasses clinking as she leans into his ear.

You purse your lips in confusion as you glance between her and Vander's face. She leans in, whispering something into John's ear. Seemingly finished, Sevika turns her attention to Vander. They exchange hushed words, their eyes flickering towards you before Vander nods.

Sevika's features contort into a look of disgust as she glances down at the crumpled man on the ground. She turns and extends her hand towards you. Without hesitation, you grab it and she leads you out of the Saloon and into the cool night air.

Untying the reins with steady hands, she carefully mounts her horse. The leather of the saddle creaks as she leans down to you, extending a hand to lift you up. She secures her arms around you as you sit sideways in her lap.

As the horse carries you both through the dark night, the only sounds are the steady beat of hooves on dirt and the occasional whisper of wind through the trees. She leans forward, softly rubbing her hand along your back, offering comfort and reassurance.

The porch light comes into view, the dim glow fighting against the darkness of the night. As Sevika slows the horse to a stop, she gently lowers you to the ground. “Head inside, I’ll be right behind you angel.”

A heavy lump forms in your throat as you stumble through the house, barely registering the familiar creaks and sighs of the old wooden floors. With each step, it feels like your feet are weighed down, dragging on the floor as you trudge up the stairs and into your room. The walls seem to blur as tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision and making you feel like you're walking through a dream. Finally, you reach your room, collapsing onto your bed with a heavy thud.

As you lay down on your side, Sevika joins you a minute later. Slowly toeing off her boots, she lays back, turning to face you, her body mirroring yours as she rests on her side.

Your eyes meet Sevika's, searching her face for answers. Her silver gaze is soft but concerned as she reaches out to brush a stray hair from your cheek.

"You okay, angel?" She asks gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "I… I don't know." You admit, your words shaky. "I'm scared, Sev. What if he… I- what if something happens to the ranch? To you or mama?"

Sevika pulls you closer and you bury your face in her chest, inhaling her comforting scent. "Nothing's gonna happen." She murmurs, her voice low and soothing.

You look up at her, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "How can you be sure?"

Sevika's jaw clenches, a determined look in her eyes. "Because I won’t let it. I’ll be here with you.”

“Promise?” Glancing through the window, you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion as you grasp her hand tightly, afraid to let go.

She meets your gaze and nods, her eyes shining with sincerity. “I promise, angel.”

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? Just- just to sleep.” You ask tentatively.

She lifts your intertwined hands, kissing your palm softly. “Of course, angel. It’d be my pleasure.”

You send her a grateful smile, sinking deeper into her in relief.

With a groan, Sevika blinks away the hazy remnants of sleep. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as she shivers. Every hair on her body stands at attention, her senses alerting her to some sort of danger. Glancing around in the dark, she slowly moves out of bed, adjusting her pillow underneath your head.

Glancing back at you, she cautiously makes her way to the window and gingerly pulls back the curtain with a single finger, peering out. Sevika's eyes narrow as she scans the darkened landscape outside. The moon casts an eerie glow over the fields, creating long shadows that dance in the gentle breeze. At first, nothing seems out of place. But then, there’s a rustle in the trees.

A figure, barely visible in the dim light, darts between the shadows of the fence and the nearby trees. Sevika's jaw clenches as she watches the intruder creep closer.

Without hesitation, she moves swiftly and silently across the room. She pauses at the bedside, her eyes softening as they land on your sleeping form. Leaning down, she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before straightening up. Her expression hardens with determination and she checks the rounds in her revolver.

The chamber clicks closed as she makes her way downstairs, her footsteps silent on the old wooden floors.

Sevika doesn't bother disguising herself amongst the shadows. She wants him to see her coming. She wants him to run.

And run he does.

His beady eyes bulge and his squirrely face contorts with terror as he scurries into the dense forest. Decaying leaves crackle under his feet, branches reaching out and clawing at his face as he runs.

Sevika effortlessly chases after him, her long strides closing the distance between them in no time.

Grabbing a hold of his shirt, she violently yanks him back and throws him to the ground. Scratching her nose, she chuckles darkly. “I told you to stay away. To leave.”

He struggles to get up on all fours, but Sevika forcefully kicks him in the side. He rolls over from the impact and she digs her boot into his stomach. He gasps for air, wheezes whistling past his gritted teeth. “But I’m real fuckin’ glad you didn’t.”

She rolls her neck, savoring the satisfying crackle as she watches him struggle to speak between choked breaths. A sardonic smirk crosses her lips as she watches him glance at the gun holstered on her hip. “You gonna shoot me?” He croaks.

With a scoff, she shakes her head mockingly. “No… That would be too easy.” Slowly advancing on him, she lets her words hang in the air for a moment. “You don’t deserve easy.” She grits out, pressing the weight of her boot into his throat.

Her eyes gleam with a cold intensity as she revels in his desperation and fear. Just as his face grows purple, she relieves the pressure.

John gasps and coughs, desperately sucking in air. Sevika watches him dispassionately.

"You really thought you could come here and threaten them?" Sevika's voice is low and dangerous. "Thought you could scare them?"

John's attempts to speak are cut short as Sevika leans down, her fingers digging into his shirt. Her other hand curls into a fist, and meets his mouth in a punch that rattles his teeth.

"Did you think I lied when I told you I’d kill you if you came back?" She spits. "I know you’re a fucking idiot, but did you think that tryin’ to call my bluff was a good idea?"

Another blow lands on John's cheek.

“They’re coming.” He manages to gargle through a mouthful of blood.

Sevika pauses, her fist hovering in the air. “What?” She pants.

John coughs out a laugh, blood bubbling and dripping down his chin. Sevika releases her grip on his shirt in disgust, watching him writhe on the ground.

Flashing her a red stained smile, his swollen eyes fill with satisfaction as he glances down at her hands. “Seems like you’ve got more than just my blood on your hands… and a lotta people want you for it.”

Her nose flares and she licks her teeth in anger. Her fist clenches at her side, knuckles white with tension.

In a flash, Sevika's hand is around his throat, lifting him slightly off the ground. Her silver eyes blaze with a cold fury as she leans in close, her grip unyielding. “You’re pathetic. Can’t fight your own battles, so you have to tattle to someone who can.” She hisses, her voice like ice. “If they’re already on the way, what’s the harm in killing you?” She snickers.

He struggles to speak against Sevika's iron grip. "Go to hell." He chokes out, a flash of silver glinting in his hand.

But before he can strike, Sevika raises her arm and effortlessly redirects the knife, its sharp edge burying itself in his throat. She steps back, observing the blood splattered on her shirt with detached annoyance.

John gurgles and writhes on the ground, his hands futilely trying to contain the torrent of blood draining from his throat. The metallic scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the earthy undertones of the forest.

Sevika watches in silence as John's desperate hand reaches out towards her before falling limply to the ground.

Her throat constricts as she takes in the overwhelming sight of crimson pooling around her feet, her mind flashing back to the image of you, patiently waiting for her in bed.

…

Her mind races as she heads back to the house. She can't stay here, that much is clear. But leaving you behind…

As she enters the dimly lit bedroom, she finds you still curled up in bed, your messy hair framing your face. You’re awake, a patient smile on your lips as you wait for her. “Hey, cowboy. Where’d yah go?” You raise a lazy hand toward her, beckoning her to join you.

She slowly crawls into bed next to you, she pulls you into her side. Curling under her chin, you cross your leg over her.

Sevika swallows hard, her breath quickening. She holds your hand over her chest. “You make me happy, angel… And I…” Her voice trails off into a whisper, her grip tightening.

You furrow your brows, trying to turn and look at her, but her embrace prevents you from doing so. Uneasiness gnaws at your stomach as you hold her closer. “You make me really happy too… You okay, Sev? Somethin’ happen?” You ask, worry lacing your words.

She draws your fingers to her lips, pressing gentle kisses to each one before placing your hand over her chest. “I just wanna hold you. Can I hold you, angel?”

You nod wordlessly, holding her even tighter. Something feels wrong, a foreboding shadow devouring all of the warmth in the room.

But you ignore it. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

You slowly relax into her. Blinking heavily, you lazily turn your head and peck her throat.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

The steady, rhythmic thump of Sevika's heart lulls you to sleep.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

Hazily, you feel the soft caress of her lips on your forehead. They linger and her chest rumbles with unheard words beneath your cheek.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

Groaning, you grope blindly at the cold sheets, your fingers searching for any sign of warmth. Grunting, you raise your head blearily, squinting against the harsh brightness of the room. “Sevika?” You mumble, your voice thick with sleep and confusion.

With a loud thud, you flop your head back into the pillow.

Sitting up with a pout, you push yourself out of bed and fumble around for some underwear and your nightdress. As you blink away the remnants of sleep, your gaze falls on a familiar strip of leather lying innocently on your dresser. Your heart pounds in your chest as that feeling of unease returns.

You stare at the necklace, your heart in your throat. Approaching it with cautious steps, your shaky fingers brush against its smooth surface.

Why would-

A jolt of recognition and fear shoots through you. You jump back with a gasp and spin around the room in a panic. Your heart pounds in your throat as you frantically search for any sign of her - but it's all gone.

The stable. She wouldn’t leave without-

You jump down the stairs, twisting your ankle in your haste. “Sevika!?!” You call out, desperation lacing your voice.

Ignoring the pain, you run to the stables. Your thin dress ripples around you as you sprint down the path.

Your mom's hand rests gently on your arm, but you barely feel it as you rush forward. "Sevika!"

Your mom follows close behind, speaking softly in a sympathetic tone. “Baby, she’s-“

Tears spill down your cheeks. “She wouldn’t. Not like this.” You insist through trembling breaths. “Sevika!!”

There’s no answer. 

A warm hand brushes your back trying to offer comfort, but you shrug it off. Your mom’s voice is low and soothing as you stalk toward the stall where her horse should be. “John’s dead. Some of the workers found him in-”

Her voice muffles, growing distant, as static fills your ears. The stall is empty.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you mumble. “I’m goin’ for a ride.”

Your mom's voice pierces the air, shouting and screaming pleas in a desperate attempt to stop you. But you ignore her, jumping onto Honey.

Digging the heels of your feet into her fur, she flies out of the stables, matching your urgency.

A frantic drumbeat echoes in your chest as you jump from Honey’s back and sprint into the garden. Your garden.

The trees blur past as you leap through the gap, scanning the surroundings for any sign of her. Honey picks up on your anxious energy and mimics it, trotting restlessly in circles beside you.

Brittle, browning pink and orange flowers flatten under her hooves. Swallowing down a feeling of nausea, you frantically search for her among the sea of red tulips that cover the ground.

Each delicate petal seems to mock you as your heart aches with longing. With anger and confusion.

Your whole body trembles as the reality of her absence hits you. Your hair raises as the sensation of cold numbness spreads through you. Turning away, you run.

You run away from the house. You run away from the stables. Away from the Saloon. Away from the garden. You run away from every blurred face in town.

…

White hot pain blurs your vision. Your breath comes out in ragged gasps as you slowly pull Honey to a stop. Her sleek fur has grown sticky and matted under your legs.

Nausea rolls in your stomach as you peel your legs from her back. Gritting your teeth, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Your swollen ankle buckles, your hands flailing to find purchase on the slick fur. Collapsing into the ground, you scream, grasping your foot.

A throbbing burn pulses down your legs and you release your foot with a whimper. With trembling hands, you raise your skirts to examine the source of the pain and are met with raw, shredded skin along your thighs. The pain in your body is excruciating, a constant pulsating that hums through your body.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you resist the urge to scream. Honey nudges you with her nose and you push her away.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

She chews on the cotton material of your dress. You cringe away from her. "Please." You plead weakly. "You're makin’ it worse."

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Ignoring your pleas, Honey continues to gnaw on the fabric while you try to hold yourself. Sniffling, you lift your head and are met with a familiar sight - a stain on a nearby rock. It’s now faded into a rusty grey color. A smeared handprint above a large blood stain.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The piercing shriek that reverberates from your lips is raw and guttural, animalistic. 

Taglist: @lez-zuha

[peaches2217]

A little-known fact about power-ups: their effects never disappear completely. Even when the magic runs its course or is forcibly cut short, there will always be some physical imperfection that remains with you as a reminder of the power you held. That said, imperfections are so miniscule that it takes years of regular power-up usage — or several months of intensive daily usage — for any such effects to manifest to more heavily obvious levels. As most people don't use power-ups more than a handful of times in their lives, it's only natural that this fact remains obscure.

Even Peach spent most of her life oblivious to this (which makes her feel quite silly, because not only has she used power-ups plenty of times before, power-ups are the Mushroom Kingdom's main exports). Her first exposure to this concept came from — where else? — Mario.

She had already called Mario her dearest friend for the better part of two years when she first saw his hands up close. She'd noticed before that he rarely removed his gloves in her presence, and when he did, he would immediately stuff his hands into his overall pockets, but she'd never thought anything of it. The first time she asks him to remove the gloves for her (he fell from a tree because it's Mario, of course he'd fall from a tree, and she wants to make sure he didn't sprain anything breaking his fall), he's hesitant to comply, but ultimately relents.

She quickly sees why: there's patches of red on the backs of his hands, devoid of hair and pulling lightly at the surrounding unaffected skin. His fingers and palms are calloused, which she already expected, but they're discolored as well, darker in some spots and lighter in others. He must have been in some terrible accident, she theorizes. It looks painful.

It's not that bad, he assures her! He's just used one too many Fire Flowers over the years. He hasn’t gained any new burns since attaining Firebrand, which grants him heavier resistance to fire, so what he’s got isn’t all that difficult to deal with. It’s just… unsightly. Luigi’s hands are similarly marred from abundant Ice Flower usage, he reveals: his fingers are permanently pale and the rest of the skin is varying shades of purple and red, remnants of frostnip. Mismatched hands for mismatched twins!

Peach spends several minutes tracing Mario’s burns with delicate fingers. It’s not at all unsightly, in her eyes, just fascinating and honestly even a bit beautiful.

The closer they become, and the more she sees of him, the more she sees those remnants of the innumerable power-ups he’s used. His hair seems to grow faster for a few weeks after using a Super Leaf or Super Bell, especially his facial and body hair. He’ll shave thoroughly and an hour later he’s already got a five o’clock shadow. Sometimes he just gives up and decides to live with a beard for a little while. He’s not too fond of the Metal Cap or Gold Flower because he feels stiff for days after using either. He’s paranoid that his joints will eventually turn to solid gold if he uses those powers too much, which would be super duper cool if only it wasn’t also super duper painful.

His entire body is covered in stretch marks. He already had some on his stomach and thighs since he’s so heavyset, but all the growing and shrinking and restabilizing he’s subjected himself to via size-changing Mushrooms has left blanching trails embedded into him from his neck to his knees. Using an Elephant Fruit will usually net him a few more, and he swears up and down that his skin gets a little thicker with each usage as well. That one’s purely theoretical on his part, but lotions and hand cream don’t seem to absorb as well as they once did.

Peach could spend hours marveling at his body. She loves trailing his stretch marks with her fingertips, or rubbing her thumb in tiny circles over patches of burnt and rehealed skin, or combing her nails through the hair on his head and his body and his face. Some people earn medals or badges when they perform heroic feats, but Mario earns something that Peach finds much more precious: “imperfections” that make him all the more unique and all the more lovely. All the more him.

[sehtoast]

A Good Punishment is its Own Reward (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+

Word count: 2k

Fic Directory

Summary: Homelander doesn't take too kindly to being smacked on the ass- in public, at least.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, semi-public sex, getting weird with the web holes again, spit

Reader is written as a trans man but is kept gender neutral save for two or so gendered terms. Reader is written in the spirit of my spidersona oc

You knew not to tease.

After all, it was like dangling meat in front of a tiger that’d been starved. But, in the end, could you really complain? Once the aches had faded and he settled against you, could you really complain?

Not at all.

That’s why, as the meeting of The Seven adjourned and Homelander walked past, you took a quick swat at his ass.

The look he gave you sent a chill down your spine, tingling in your core. It wasn’t like you did it when the team would see.

“Hehe,” you chuckle. “Sorry babe, it’s just looking extra smackable today.”

He approaches you in a slow gait, hands behind his back, leather gloves creaking with the restraint he was so carefully exercising. Despite your own superpowered strength, he has you at his mercy in a fraction of a moment. A gloved hand gripping your neck, tilting your gaze up to meet his.

Those beautiful blue eyes that took you back to the clear, summer skies of your youth– that warmed you all the same.

“What, exactly, made you so bold today, hm?” John purrs, teeth bared as though he meant to threaten his prey.

You’ve nothing to say as his free hand snakes down the length of your spandex covered body, moving to press his palm against your heat.

“I could smell how fucking wet you were during the entire meeting…” Homelander murmurs in your ear, breath hot against your flesh as he blows on it. His hand remains at your neck, squeezing to punctuate his words. “Do I really work you up so much? You want me so badly that even corporate bullshit gets you soaked? So long as it’s coming out of my mouth?”

He relishes the way the emotive lenses of your mask mimic the way your eyes widen, though he finds it infinitely more delightful to utilize his x-ray vision to peer through to your reddened cheeks, the way you bite your lower lip in anticipation. You nod breathlessly, and he’s upon you immediately, tearing the mask from your head, tongue parting your lips, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit through your suit.

You moan into his mouth, hips bucking toward him for more.

“John…” you whine, and you feel his lips curl into a devilish grin.

He nibbles at your lip, and suddenly you’re being manhandled onto the conference table, his hands splaying across your upper body, thumbing at the spider emblem on your chest.

“I think you owe me, now…” He growls. “For taking without asking.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You bite your lip, cunt clenching around nothing as his words settle deep in your core.

He stands expectantly, hands on his hips as he waits for you to pay what you owe.

Your hands are at his belt immediately, dropping the metallic article to the floor without care– for you’re far more invested in stripping his pants away. You slip your hand between the band of his red briefs, simply taking him in a hold for a moment as you wrap your arm around his neck to tug him in for a kiss.

Your tongues dance as you begin to stroke, his cock twitching in tandem with his little moans. It’s enough to drive you insane, but you’ll find your sanity once more when he’s had you in every way he wants– every way you want.

"You like that, don't you baby?" You whisper in his ear teasingly.

His hand is at your neck again, and your breath catches.

“Maybe we should put your mouth to good use,” he rasps, tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear. “On your knees, little spider…”

You obey, hopping off the table to kneel before him as he shimmies his pants and underwear to his ankles.

“That’s it…” he groans as you grasp him, tongue darting out to swirl the bead of moisture from the head of his cock.

Your free hand strokes at his thigh, the softness of your touch mixing with the heat of your mouth as you take him in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you swallow every inch of him. He hisses, and your pride swells.

As does your audacity.

You trail your hand along the curve of his ass, then swat it down in a sharp smack, gripping a handful of the soft flesh to knead.

Your hands are trapped in his grip in seconds, and a leather glove has you snatched by the hair, pulling your head impossibly closer until your nose is buried in the thatch of hair at the base of his cock and you’re gagging around him.

“Thought you’d be fucking cute with that, huh?” He snarls, hips snapping forward to fuck your throat. The hand in your hair jerks your head back and forth, using you to his heart’s content, groaning with each deep stroke.

“Gonna make you regret it,” he promises with a sly smile, ripping you off his cock to stare at him with your lidded eyes, drool dripping off your chin. “Look how fucking messy you are for me. Can’t get enough, can you?”

He grips his cock with the hand that previously held yours captive, and he smacks the length of it on your cheek, dragging it across your lips to paint your face with your own spit.

Your tongue darts out, desperate for his taste once more, but he pulls your head back, cock just out of reach of your wet muscle.

“Bad boys don’t get what they want. Only I get what I want.”

Suddenly, he’s dragging you up from where you knelt, hands seeking out the zippers to your suit– somehow patient enough to strip you properly. He took you in another kiss, strings of your saliva connecting you as you parted.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he commands.

So you do, and he’s using his grip in your hair to tilt your head back to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

You obey, gulping loudly, and the devious look on his face only becomes more wicked.

“Such a fucking slut,” he praises as he works your suit down your body. “Look how fucking wet you are.”

He’s right, too. As he pulls your underwear down, your arousal clings to your clothes.

You want to say something quippy, to tease him, but your thoughts melt away as his leather clad fingers swipe through your folds, dragging your wetness up to your engorged clit. Your head falls back, and he’s nibbling at your neck, licking and sucking marks onto you– claiming you.

“All for me,” he lilts, tongue dragging up the column of your neck. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, hands gripping in his hair, tongue painting your flesh like a brush on canvas. “Yours…”

As the word leaves your mouth, his fingers sink into you, curving right away to find that spot that drives you fucking wild. His fingers squelch each time he drags them out and slams them back in, fingerfucking you with delight as he watches how your face contorts in bliss.

“Johnny!” You cry out as the pressure builds, hips bucking to chase the sensation, almost there, almost–

“N-No!” You whimper as his fingers leave you, and he’s chuckling.

“Didn’t I tell you? Bad boys don’t get what they want.” He shoves you back to lay on the table, hands gripping your wrists to thumb at your spinnerets.

You yelp at the sensation, still infinitely grateful for his fascination with your previously undiscovered erogenous zone.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Homelander asks, leaning over you with predatory eyes and mussed hair. You swear you see a flash of red in his pupils as he licks the tip of one of his sharp teeth. “Do you deserve to have me fuck you?”

You nod furiously, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in against his own strength.

“Please…”

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, dipping the tip of his tongue into your widened spinneret, making you howl, your back arching as the sensation shot straight down to your cunt.

“I could take you apart so fucking easily,” he proclaims proudly. “I could have you any way I want.”

Homelander rocks his hips, sliding the length of his cock up and down your slit. You can see the way his control falters for a moment, pleasure clouding his focus. His brow furrows and his expression softens, and you seize your chance.

“C'mere…” You coo.

As he leans down, you nudge your forehead against his.

“I love you so much, y’know…” Your eyes shut, and you plead through your needy haze. “I need you, baby. I need to feel you in me."

Always so brittle when it comes to affirmations of love, Homelander presses a kiss to your forehead and grips himself, the head of his cock nudging at your sopping entrance.

"Mm," you hum, leaning up to kiss him properly. "Please, Johnny. Please take care of me…"

You can practically see the nickname push him over the edge, and he sinks inside in one push. You swear you can feel him throbbing between your walls, his little moans quivering in the air.

"Damnit," he groans as he bottoms out, gritting his teeth to stave off his release. As he takes a moment, you reach for his hands, slipping the gloves off, exposing him to the world.

To you.

He moves to lean over you, peering down with something utterly carnal in his eyes as he starts to move.

His thrusts start slow, mind still addled from your declaration of love. It always was the most perfect way to pull him back to earth.

You grip at his forearms, his hands grabbing you firmly by the waist as he lets loose, pace increasing by the second until he's driving into you like a madman.

"Fuck!" you hiss, your body jostling with every thrust. Your mind hazes, and you submit to however he wants to use you– pleased that you got what you wanted.

His grip leaves your waist, slender fingers wrapping around your throat, a palm over your mouth to quiet you.

He doesn’t quite know why he stifled your noises, only that the sick sense of control he got from it brought him to the brink. To know he could control you, down to even the sounds you made, was nothing short of fucking ecstacy.

“The only thing,” he pants, “I want to hear out of that fucking mouth is my name. Do you hear me?”

You nod, eager to please him. As he lets go, you make sure the first thing you do is moan his name into the air like a prayer.

“Mmm, fuck!” He pounds into you, fingers traveling down to toy with your clit. He spits on it, using his saliva as lube to glide across that tender bud, relief coming to him as you throw your head back.

“John, oh f– I’m gonna–”

You clench around him, vision tunneling as he keeps the pace with both his hips and fingers. You cry out, each breath spent on his name as you crest higher and higher, bliss overtaking every molecule of your body.

You feel him coming deep inside of you before anything else. Before the whimpers of your own name meet your ears, before his head falls down to rest in the crook of your neck as he ruts through the waves of his orgasm. He’s warm, his breath is hot, and the cock twitching and spurting inside you is delicious.

You come down from your haze first, and you take the time to press a kiss to the side of his head.

“Heh,” you breathe a laugh. “Maybe I should smack your ass more often…”

Despite his groan, you feel him smile against your neck. “Keep it up, and you’ll get much worse.”

You pull him impossibly closer, limbs wrapped around him as his body lays limp against you. Above, Homelander finally cracks, and a lighthearted laugh leaves him. His fingers card through your hair, and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Babe, if that’s your threat, I’m gonna do it as soon as we stand up!”

He can hardly wait until you get the bright idea to spank him again.

[k0yaz]

Diluc x femreader

breeding kink , biting kink, diluc is overprotective, smut VERY smutty 😘

Undo it yourself

Pairing(s): diluc ragnivindr x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, dom!diluc, sub!reader, breeding kink, biting, overprotective themes, marking, light fingering, mention of alcohol (but no drunk sex we don’t do that here), palming, handjob, tit fondling, a little bit of begging, back scratching,

A/N: again, no specification of what type of fic you wanted but it sounded like a oneshot so I’ll go ahead and do that <3

Diluc’s fingers dug into the supple flesh of your thighs, his still gloved hands making the bruises on your thighs turn a deep purple from how hard he was gripping them. You were only able to whimper in response as you caught a glimpse of his crimson, lust fillled eyes, which were staring at the wet spot on your panties as if he was about to dive in any moment.

“D-Diluc…slow down- ah-!” You gasped out as Diluc’s lips wrapped around your shoulder, sinking his teeth into you as his grip tightened on your thigh. He sucked on your shoulder intently, dragging the skin of your shoulder in between his teeth to bite down lightly each time.

He detached his lips from your shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the reddish bite mark he engraved onto you. You felt his grip loosen on your thigh as well, revealing a few marks from where his fingers once were.

“Tell me, when I had to go run errands and wasn’t there to look after you at the tavern, why were you slutting yourself out for some fucking alcohol?” Diluc growled as he removed his gloves, tossing them to god knows where in the bedroom.

“‘m’sorry-! I was drunk, I- mmph-!” your whine was hushed by Diluc slipping his thumb into your mouth.

“Nevermind. I don’t want to hear it.” He breathed out as his now ungloved hand dived into your panties, his middle finger tracing up your drenched slit. You felt his rough fingers against your core, causing you to let out a strained moan against his thumb, which was still pressed against your tongue.

Diluc pulled his hand out of your panties, licking off the slick that coated his finger. He peeled off your soaked undergarments, tossing them aside as he towered over you, his hands planted on either side of your head, and his face level with yours. His lips were perfectly in position to kiss you at that moment as well.

He got up for a moment, removing his coat and shirt and discarding them to the side. Your gaze flickered onto Diluc’s belt, wanting to reach your hands out to strip him down yourself. Diluc noticed your gaze, mixed with your retracting hands, causing his lips to crawl upwards into an ever so slight smirk.

“If you want to undo it yourself, then I’m not stopping you, darling.”

Your eyes widened, you felt your heart racing at his words and a smile to make its way onto your face as you crawled towards him, slipping your fingers under his belt buckle and unfastening it, letting it fall to the ground. His pants slid down his legs and joined his belt on the ground not too long after, the only piece of clothing constricting you two being his underwear.

You shifted your hand to hover over the enticing black fabric, pressing your palm against his crotch as Diluc stared down at you with a sensual glint shining in his usually dead eyes. You palmed his dick through his underwear, feeling a certain spot dampen from the precum leaking out of his tip.

You couldn’t take just doing this anymore, you wrapped your fingers around the waistband of his underwear, yanking it down. Diluc’s hardened cock sprung out, nearly slapping you across the face as it was freed from its restraints. You looked up at him to be met with a surprise…

Was Diluc blushing-?

Yup. His face was tinted a deep red as he covered his face with his hand, clearly embarrassed.

“S-sorry…” he murmured, his voice unusually soft for once.

“Sorry for what?” You remarked as you smiled up at him. You swiped your thumb across his tip, coated in precum, collecting it on your thumb and pressing it against your tongue. As you wrapped your hand around his cock, Diluc seemed to snap out of his blissful trance, and placed his hand onto your chest, pushing you back down onto the soft mattress beneath you two.

He positioned himself above you, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit and rubbing it in small, circular motions. His precum mixed with your slick served as the perfect lubricant as a loud moan escaped your lips.

“D-Diluc…please…just do it already.” You whispered, whining out as Diluc placed his hand below your breast, his lips trailing up your skin as he finally pressed them against your tits. His teeth grazed your skin as he rubbed himself harder against your clit, causing a string of high pitched moans from you as Diluc moved up and bit your neck gently.

Your arms found their way around Diluc’s torso, hands grabbing onto his back lustfully. Diluc couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he groaned out and lowered his lower body, sliding his tip down your slit and pushing himself inside you in one go, causing him to exhale loudly against your neck and dig his teeth in slightly deeper. Without warning he began moving at a delicious pace, his cock slamming inside you as you clenched around him. Your spongy walls stretched out from the way Diluc shoved his girthy cock inside you, his tip hitting your g-spot flawlessly, massaging it effectively as he buried himself inside you.

The way Diluc was ramming inside you felt incredible, you didn’t fucking want him to stop, you needed him to fill you up.

“Diluc…fill me up…please..” you blurted out, causing his eyes to widen at your erotic request. “Will do.” He asserted, placing his hand on your right thigh and alllowing it to settle on his shoulder, giving him a better angle to fuck you. His breathing became heavier the more he pounded into you, both of your moans filled the air, mixed with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room as Diluc let your thigh down gently, placing his hands onto your hips for support.

You looked at him with a confused expression, which was immediately replaced with a throaty moan and your eyes rolling back into your head as Diluc thrusted into you at a faster pace. Your nails dug into his muscular back, dragging down and leaving scratches along his back.

“I’m…I’m gonna…” Diluc groaned out, his face blown a bright red and sweat dripping down his whole body.

“Do it. Cum inside me.” You whined out, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts.

Diluc raised his head up to yours, pressing his lips against yours and locking them, his hand trailing up to your cheek to deepen the kiss. Your tongues danced against each other’s in your mouth as Diluc’s thrusts came to a halt, his cock twitching inside you. Your moans vibrated against each other’s lips as Diluc’s cum shot out inside you, painting your velvety walls with his seed. You came along with him, your cum coating his shaft and flowing down onto the sheets.

Diluc pulled away from the kiss, wiping the saliva off your bottom lip. He wrapped his arms around you, digging his face deep into your neck as he panted against your skin heavily, your erratic breaths also ruffling his hair slightly.

“I love you, Y/N.” Diluc breathed out as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, earning a satisfied hum from you.

A/N: omg I will never understand y’all’s obsession w/ overprotective mfs but you do you-

I’m a ge-ge-ge-ge-ge-genius (it’s Spotify’s fault)

ok bye love y’all <33

[femmepeterparker]

pittwins fic snippet NEOW‼️‼️

okay okay okay but only because i love them

they make me feel so so sick /pos

She watched as Luz, who was sitting next to him on the floor, took his hand and walked them into the kitchen. The other kids looked up momentarily before averting their gazes to the TV again.

She got up and followed them, standing by the entrance of the room.

"-it's okay," Luz was saying quietly. "He's not here. We can- we can turn the movie off."

There was a low whine that Camila didn't register as coming from Hunter until Luz spoke again.

"No, no, I know. I know." She sighed. "It's just- it's bothering me, too. Not- not you! The movie."

More silence. She risked peeking inside at the two of them.

Luz and Hunter were sitting on the floor, Hunter's back to the sink cabinet and Luz kneeling in front of him. They were holding hands, Luz's thumb slowly rubbing circles into Hunter's hand.

Hunter's bare hands.

Belatedly, Camila realized she'd never seen him without gloves. She understood why he wore them now. Dark, thick scars covered almost every inch of skin, and- oh, Camila's heart ached tenfold- thin, silver lines carved their way up his wrist, stopping just above where his gloves usually ended. She wondered if Hunter could even feel the soft pressure Luz was applying.

"I just..." She sighed again, looking down at their interlocked fingers. "Sometimes, when I see sand like that, and it shifts, all I can see is you sinking down, and I wonder what would have happened if-"

She broke off with a sniff, and Hunter leaned forward, laying his head on her shoulder.

"Me... too..." he whined. "Think about... if I... the glyphs... too late..."

Camila didn't understand it, really, but Luz definitely did. Her other hand found its way into Hunter's hair and she let out a sob.

"I don't know what I would've done- how I would've lived with myself if he had killed you-"

He turned his head into her neck, another quiet whine escaping him.

[your-oddities]

╭─────────.★..─╮

Detour

╰─..★.─────────╯

Caution: Spoilers for Entry #61, violence (no stabbing or gun wounds), language, and uhhh that’s basically it. :3 !!

Word count: ~1.3k

• — — • — — • — — • — — • — — • — — • — — •

His gloved hand reaches for the bottom of the window and slowly, cautiously lifts up. It slides open with little to no resistance. He feels slightly confused as to why Tim didn’t bother lock his window, but with how his life is being flipped upside down, a small latch might be easy to overlook. Either way this bodes well for Hoody. He pushes the blinds out of the way just enough to set his camcorder down on the carpeted floor of Tim’s room. As much as he’d like to collect his loot and hide as quickly as possible, Hoody also recognizes that he must be quiet in order for this to pay off. So going slow would be in his best interest.

He slips into the room ever so carefully, picking up his camcorder as he steps inside. Tim’s room is quite the eyesore. The bed is messy and unmade. If Hoody hadn’t been keeping a close eye on Tim, he’d assume he just woke up from a night of heavy drinking. The unnecessarily high pitched buzzing of the overhead light adds a layer to the depressing feel in here. He holds the camera to catch every detail of Tim’s sad excuse of a bedroom. His gaze travels to his floor, where the beige carpet is decorated with miscellaneous colors thanks to the surprising amount of shirts and pants Tim never seemed to bother to put away. Or he just never had the motivation to. Tim’s never been a particularly organized man, though this place looks like it’s been robbed. Which is somewhat humorous to Hoody considering why he’s there. He didn’t come over just to pay his old friend a visit.

He treads quietly as he checks out the layout of Tim’s room. He first inspects the closet. He pushes some clothes aside to see just how much free space is in there. Seems to be just enough for Hoody to squeeze his way in if and when Tim makes his way back towards his room. Hoody makes sure to listen out for footsteps other than his own. He’d be royally screwed if he were caught.

Next Hoody creeps over to the nightstand beside the bed. On top sits a small, rectangular wooden box that looks to be conveniently out of place. The top comes off nice and easy, setting it down beside the container. He takes a look inside and near immediately snatches the orange tinted bottle. But his excitement quickly turns into disappointment as he realizes the small problem: it’s completely empty. Tossing the bottle back into its container out of pure anger, he looks around the room once more. Hoody knows Tim better than anyone. Surely he can find where he keeps his goddamn pills. It’s not like he hasn’t before.

He pans the camera around the room as his eyes look for every possibility as to what crevice a small orange bottle could possibly fit in. It’s not two seconds later he spots a tan wicker basket on top of the dark dresser in the corner of his room. The white of the bottle cap sticks out like a sore thumb against the muted color of the wall. Calling that hiding would be a stretch. They’ve both been in this same situation countless times. Hoody has managed to scout out his bottles in far more unusual places. But he doesn’t linger on the thought. All he needs is the pills and then leaving. So he trudges over to the basket and there they are. The white pills seem to have a warm hue to them due to the transparent color of the bottle itself. Now with the pills in sight, all he has to do is pocket it and hide. Holding the camera steady as possible, he films everything as his other hand grabs the pill bottle. It’s about half empty, though something is better than nothing. The rattling of the bottle is just enough to cover up the sound of a door creaking open behind him.

Hoody can’t help but feel satisfied while looking at the bottle in his hand. Though he doesn’t really have the time to relish in his pride. His fingers fiddle with the pocket of his jeans as he attempts to put the pills away. Though he’s soon cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him. He whips his head around, though it’s all a blur. Not a second later does a fist swiftly meet his cheek. His body follows his head and he stumbles to the side. He’s in so much shock he doesn’t react quite yet. Leaving Tim an open opportunity to have at it again.

A hand grasps at his mustard yellow hoodie and he’s yanked backwards, the pills and camcorder flying from his hands. He guesses Tim moved out of the way because next thing he knows his back meets the floor, knocking the air out of his lungs. He feels Tim getting on top of his body and holding him down with his weight. The combination of both leaves Hoody desperate for a breath. His hand flies to Tim’s neck while managing to only catch a shallow breath of air. He squeezes harder and harder until Tim can only let out a few pathetic gasps as he struggles to breathe. Tim’s own hands meet Hoody’s as he claws at the material of the glove. Though it’s in vain.

Hoody watches as Tim squirms with his hands around his neck. The sound of his own quickening heartbeat fills his ears, though it does little to cover his ragged breathing. Tim’s hand slips off only for his to ball it in a fist and his hand to collide with Hoody’s face, yelling weakly “Bastard!” he shouts as he, too, attempts to breathe again, drawing in quick gulps of air as he begs for oxygen.

Hoody’s quick to release Tim and lets out a pained groan. His free hand holds his nose due to the sharp burn. His mask starts to wet from the tears forming in his eyes. His vision blurs as he blinks away the tears. Soon the taste of copper covers his tastebuds. Hoody can feel his nose start to drip like a faucet.

Hoody can feel hands grab at his collar, glaring into his red, poorly bleached eyes. Hoody’s never considered him to be a violent man. But this scares the hell out of him. “Who the hell are you?” Tim yells — louder this time — at the man underneath him. All Hoody can do is muster some more strained groans.

Though not for long. Hoody’s other hand grasps Tim’s shirt and tugs him roughly to the side. Tim lands on the ground beside Hoody, a huff of air leaving him. Hoody scrambles to his feet as he tries to find the quickest way out of here. One that involves getting away from Tim. But Tim swiftly grabs his sleeve and tries to tug him back. However he’s cut off by coughs.

Loud, obnoxious coughs.

His grip loosens on Hoody’s sleeve as he covers his mouth, coughing like he’s on his death bed.

Hoody freezes for a moment. But just a moment. He’s left breathing heavily as Tim coughs like a chain smoker. Tim’s hand falls to the floor and his curls into a ball as the coughing becomes rougher. Like he’ll cough up a hairball. It doesn’t take half a second for the situation to click in Hoody’s head. Hoody frantically looks around before finding the pills lying a few feet away from him. He reaches out and pockets them. Glancing to Tim one last time, he just about books it to the window. He snags the camcorder that’s lying on the ground, catching one last shot of Tim as he writhes in pure agony. Hastily Hoody pushes the blinds out of his way. Near stumbling out of the room, he leaves Tim to deal with this himself. For now.

• . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . •

Thank you for reading! ヾ(^_^)

Is it obvious I’ve never written a fighting scene before? lol

[mandiemon3]

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 5

Mo jolted awake to find a gloved hand covering their mouth. Instinctively, they bit down as hard as they could, desperately searching the dark room for their attacker. A low groan of pain gave away their position, the dim light of the moon shining through the few windows of the room illuminating the edges of the stocky man crouched above Mo.

Mo’s eyebrows furrowed and they stopped struggling, finally recognizing the man. The gloved hand was removed from their mouth once they calmed.

“Izzy? What the hell are you doing in here?” Mo whispered.

“Other than getting mauled?” he hissed, rubbing his hand. “I came to get you. Come on, we need to talk.”

Mo unwrapped Frenchie’s arm from around their chest and removed Roach’s leg that found its way hooked over theirs. They peeled back the blanket slowly, not wanting to wake up their friends, and were about to clamber to their feet when they were offered a hand. They gladly accepted it, allowing Izzy to pull them to their feet.

Once standing, he grabbed Mo’s forearm and guided them through the dark room. He didn’t let go as he led them out of the room and through the ship, down winding hallways until they came to a stop outside his cabin. He finally released them after opening the door for them, waving them into the room.

Izzy’s cabin wasn’t much, but it was what Mo would have expected if someone had asked them to imagine Izzy’s living quarters. There was a bed along one wall with a small desk pushed up next to it, acting as a nightstand. There was a small table and set of two chairs next to a small trunk by the foot of the bed. It was effective, and nothing more, just the way Izzy liked it. Or at least the way he said he liked it.

Izzy entered the room after Mo, closing the door behind him. He motioned for his guest to sit in one of the chairs at the small table, reluctantly taking the seat opposite them once they sat down.

It was clear that Izzy was anxious. His usually neat hair was disheveled, and his hands couldn’t stay still. His expression was unreadable, eyes unable to stay on one thing for long. Mo wondered how long he had been awake. He had removed his leather vest and the belt that was usually slung across his chest, holding his sword, but the rest of his daytime outfit was still in place, down to his tie and his single leather glove.

“Let me see your hand.” Mo’s voice made Izzy jump. He glanced at them, and Mo thought for a moment they saw fear flash across his eyes. “Please, Izzy. Just let me make sure you’re okay,” they asked, holding a hand out to take his. “I did bite you pretty hard. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Izzy shook his head absentmindedly. “It’s alright. You did well, actually. Always safest to assume the worst.” Mo rolled their eyes. “Yeah, well that’s the kind of mindset that lets you bite your friends. Now, hand please.” They held their hand out more insistently, giving him a pointed look.

Izzy reluctantly slid his hand across the table. Thankfully, his leather glove took a lot of the edge out of the bite, but Mo was still concerned about having possibly broken or fractured a bone. They slowly started undoing the fastening on the glove, glancing up at him frequently to make sure he wasn’t uncomfortable. When the last fastening was done, they began to slide it off his hand. Once off, they turned his hand over, examining it from every angle. It would definitely bruise, and it was noticeably paler than his other hand, but there didn’t seem to be any major damage. They were surprised to see a small heart tattooed over his thumb, smiling softly as they let their finger drift over it.

Mo blinked hard. Still holding his hand, they looked up. “You’ll live,” they declared, looking over him, trying to figure out why he woke them up. “Alright, Izzy. What am I doing here?”

Izzy cleared his throat, readjusting in his seat. “It’s about what you said. About having…feelings for me.” He spoke slowly, as though he expected them to stop him, to explain that he had misunderstood something.

Mo raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

“I should have said something when it happened. I was just…caught off guard.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m…sorry…if I hurt you. That wasn’t my intention.” Mo’s eyes began to burn again, still sore from all the crying they had already done that night.

“It’s okay,” they said, giving him a sad smile. “Like I said, or yelled, I guess,” they corrected with a weak chuckle, “I was trying to think of a way to tell you that wouldn’t knock you off your balance. But, obviously, I failed at that.” Mo looked into his eyes, two dark pits of emotion. He seemed scared. “It really is okay that you don’t feel the same way. I mean, I’m upset, clearly, but I’ll recover.”

Izzy broke their gaze, looking down to their entwined hands. “No,” he whispered. “I-“ he stopped himself, looking around as he swallowed thickly. “I don’t have any experience with things like this.” He frowned, his brow furrowing as he spoke. “I-I’ve never…”

“What, Iz?” Mo asked gently, leaning closer to him. “You’ve never…had a relationship?” they suggested tentatively.

Izzy sighed, nodding slowly, still unable to meet their gaze. “Yeah,” he rasped, glancing up at them anxiously to gauge their reaction. He seemed surprised that they only gave him a small smile, nodding slightly. “Don’t think I’d be any good at one,” he continued, his voice low. He cleared his throat, fixing his gaze on the table between them. “Don’t have much experience. Don’t even know how that would work. And you,” he looked up at them, Mo’s heart clenching as they saw the gentle tremble of his eyebrows, “you’re different. You’re…soft…gentle.” For once he didn’t spit out the words, speaking softly. His voice dropped down to a whisper as he continued. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mo sighed. “Iz, I’m used to your rough edges,” they said softly, placing their free hand on top of Izzy’s, holding it with both of their hands. “I know sometimes you’re quick to anger, and sometimes you let that anger get the best of you.” They gave him a small smile. “I’m pretty sure everyone on this ship knows that. But I also know a good amount of that anger comes from fear, and just generally being overwhelmed. Izzy, there’s few things you could do to drive me away.” They laughed weakly. “I mean, you’ve already beaten me up, and I still like you. No matter what, I’m always going to be here for you. I’ll always be your friend, as long as you let me.”

Izzy grimaced. “I don’t want to put you at risk,” he said quietly. He fixed his gaze on their intertwined hands, his eyes softer than they’d even seen them. “This job, it’s not a safe one. Not many people walk out of it with their loved ones. And I…I don’t want something to happen to you.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “I have…an appreciation for you, Mo. And I don’t want the crew of this ship to think you get special treatment just because of it. I don’t want them to treat you worse, or think less of you.”

Mo frowned, trying to catch his eye as they squeezed his hand. “Izzy, this isn’t that kind of a crew. I think you know that,” they added with a humorous lilt. “Everyone already knows I’m fond of you, anyway. It’s not like I’ve tried to hide it, and I’ve stuck up for you before, when their teasing has gone too far. Just, don’t worry about me, Iz. And even if they were raging assholes about it, I can handle myself.”

They grinned, feeling a light blush rise to their cheeks. “I am glad to know you have an appreciation for me, though,” they said cheekily. Their grin widened as Izzy ducked his head, his cheeks dusted with pink. “I have an appreciation for you too. I appreciate you keeping us all alive and safe, and that you’ve been willing to take the time to teach me everything that I realistically should have known a long time ago. And,” they added, looking down as their blush deepened, “I appreciate you worrying about me, and what the crew could think. You don’t need to, but it’s kind of nice, that you thought about that. That you thought about me,” they finished, their voice barely more than a whisper.

Izzy nodded, clearing his throat as he frowned. “’Course,” he said, looking down at the table. “Don’t want to lose the only competent sailor on this ship.” He swallowed thickly, ignoring the way Mo smiled at him. “Especially, not if it’s you,” he said quietly. He shifted in his seat, slowly turning his hand over on the table, holding onto one of theirs. “Truth is, I-I have more than an appreciation for you. I…I like spending time with you. I like seeing you on the ship and hearing your laugh, and seeing you learn new things, always so fucking happy.” He chuckled, glancing up at them with a small smile gracing his lips. “I even like it when you call me on my shit and curse me out. I…I-I like you, Mo,” he finished awkwardly.

Mo’s face burned with blush. Izzy continued, being nice enough not to point it out, his own blush coloring his face across his cheeks and around his ears.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I wouldn’t want a one night thing either.”

Mo stood up from the table, pulling Izzy up by his hands to stand with them. They slowly wrapped their arms around him.

“Good,” they mumbled into his neck.

Izzy laughed, wrapping his arms tightly around Mo, bringing them closer. Mo pulled back slightly, just enough to see Izzy’s face. He was grinning, a proper smile, not the half smiles he usually gave. Mo pushed some of his hair away from his eyes, their heart pounding heavily. Mo examined his handsome face, worn with age and years of life at sea. They ran their fingers along the creases in his forehead, through his thick sideburns, and finally down to his jaw line. It seemed crazy that after all this time, they could touch him like this.

Mo chuckled.

“What?” Izzy asked. “What’s funny? They grinned widely, shrugging. “Just that a few hours ago I was crying in bed, thinking I’d ruined everything, that I’d lost you. And now here we are, closer than ever.” They paused, losing themselves in their wonder. “I genuinely never thought this could happen,” they admitted. “But now, I get to do this.” They grinned up at Izzy, standing up on their toes to kiss him.

It was soft and slow, nothing like their kiss before. Mo worked their hands up to the back of his neck, one hand tangling into his soft hair, while Izzy’s arms snaked up their back, bringing them even closer to deepen the kiss. They broke apart after a few seconds, but neither went far.

Mo peppered kissed across Izzy’s face, making the pirate laugh and feign struggle. He finally stopped them by kissing them again, short and sweet, before resting his chin on top of Mo’s head.

Mo held on to the soft, worn fabric of Izzy’s shirt. Everything about the situation seemed both familiar and thrilling. It was comforting to be in Izzy’s arms, feeling his shirt on their face, and smelling the scent of him. It was hard to imagine that they had ever been anywhere else, even as every rub of his rough hand along their back or up their arm sent shivers along their spine.

Mo frowned as they had a thought. They tipped their head up to look at Izzy, leaning their cheek on his shoulder.

“Izzy?” He hummed, cupping their face with one hand. “What are we going to tell the crew?”

Izzy sighed, his face creasing again as the weight of the world came back to him.

“Don’t know,” he said roughly. “I don’t think we can tell them anything.” Mo frowned. “Why not? There aren’t any rules against fraternizing, at least not from Stede. Does Ed have rules against it?”

Izzy grimaced. “He used to,” he said, “back when he was truly Blackbeard. Bonnet’s influence might have changed that, I’m not sure. Either way, this might be different.” He brushed a lock of hair behind their ear. “I’m first mate. It doesn’t matter as much what anyone else does because they all have the same level of authority.” “If it helps at all, we’re technically on different crews. Buttons is my first mate,” Mo pointed out. Izzy frowned further.

“I think that just makes it worse. Consorting with the enemy, and all that.”

Mo laughed. “Yeah, consorting, that’s what we’re doing. Plotting evilly against our captains by holding each other and kissing. How dastardly of us.” Their smile soon fell, frowning as they turned serious. “If it is against the rules, what do we do?”

Izzy sighed, tightening his grip, pulling them closer to his chest. “How about we just don’t tell them? That way we never have to worry about it.”

Mo chuckled, holding onto the loose fabric at the back of his billowy shirt. “Alright. You do know that Lucius and Frenchie are going to know immediately, though, right?” They rested their cheek on his shoulder. “Frenchie will actually have a lot of questions when I go back to bed, and I can’t lie to him, he’s my best friend. And Lucius just has a sixth sense for these kinds of things.” They tilted their head up to look at Izzy. “Did you know he actually asked me a week ago about our relationship? He thought you liked me the day after our first lesson.”

Izzy tensed slightly. “That twat can’t keep his mouth shut,” he said lowly. “We might have to do something about that.” “Please don’t tell me you mean violence.” Izzy didn’t respond. “Let me talk to him, love. He might be nosey, and a bit annoying sometimes, but he’s my friend. Even if he’s not your number one fan, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. Even if it did mean passing up on a chance to throw you under the bus and get you in trouble with Blackbeard.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he grumbled, clearly reluctant. “You can try to talk to him. But if he even thinks about letting things slip, his time on this ship might be cut short. As for Frenchie,” he brushed a lock of hair out of Mo’s face before pressing an uncertain kiss to their forehead, “I guess I’ll live if you tell him, but only him, understand?” Mo nodded emphatically, grinning up at the first mate. “And he has to be sworn to secrecy, on his life.”

“Frenchie won’t tell a soul, I swear. We’re each other’s only family,” Mo said. “He’d never do anything to hurt me. And, thank you, by the way, Izzy. I know this has to be a lot for you, and I appreciate your willingness to compromise.” They gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, enjoying the blush that crept over his face.

Izzy huffed, almost a chuckle. “I don’t see what choice I have.”

“Still. I appreciate you.” Mo nuzzled their face into his neck, wanting to commit every detail of this moment to memory. “I really don’t want to go back to bed,” they mumbled, their voice muffled by his shirt collar.

Izzy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. “I-if you’d like,” he stammered, clearly choosing his words carefully, “you could stay here for the night.”

Mo raised their head, taken aback by the offer. “Really?” they asked, searching his face for any sign of hesitation.

He nodded, doing his best to look casual, even as he avoided their eyes. “Yeah. You’re already here, and it’s probably less suspicious than sneaking back into that room with the rest of Bonnet’s crew.”

Mo raised an eyebrow, a small smirk pulling at their lips. “No ulterior motive, right Izzy?” they asked quietly.

Izzy turned a bright shade of red, shaking his head. “No,” he answered, his voice thick. “No ulterior motive. Thought it was worth offering, is all.”

They grinned. “Then I would love to. It helps that I’m already dressed for bed,” they added. “Do you have pajamas, or night clothes?”

“Uh, no.” The red of his face darkened, and his gaze faltered. “I usually don’t wear anything but my smalls, but I-I could just keep this on, if that’s alright.” Mo ignored the burning of their own face.

“I mean, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” they started to say, but Izzy quickly cut them off.

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind.”

Mo hesitated, not wanting to push any boundaries.

“What if,” they suggested cautiously, “you keep you pants on, but take off your shirt? It doesn’t look like it would be very comfortable to sleep in, and gods know you probably already don’t get enough sleep.”

Izzy nodded slowly, meeting their eyes. “Y-yeah, that works.” He seemed hesitant to look at them too long, his eyes flitting away every few seconds.

Mo stepped towards him, hands moving to loosen his tie.

“Here,” they said softly, “let me help.” They gently loosened the knot, careful of the ring he had the material looped through. They slid it over his head, gently ruffling his already scruffy looking hair. Mo smiled and smoothed it back down, pushing it away from his eyes. “You’re so handsome,” they said, almost under their breath.

Izzy blushed, looking down at his boots.

“What?” Mo continued, setting his tie down neatly on the desk next to his bed. “You are, Izzy. And you’ve clearly not been told it enough,” they added with a grin. “Guess it’s my job to remind you now.” They pressed a kiss to his lips, hands moving to undo the buttons at his collar. They slowly unbuttoned the worn black shirt, taking a moment to undo the ties Izzy had securing the oversized sleeves at his elbows as well. They began to push it off his shoulders, giving a kiss to his shoulder as it became available. Izzy shrugged off the shirt, folding it up and placing it gently on the desk alongside his tie.

Mo took a moment to look at him, the scars etched into his body, the way they could tell that years of life at sea had built strong muscles under a thin layer of cushioning. They cupped Izzy’s face with their hand, turning him to look at them.

“You are gorgeous, Izzy,” they said sincerely. They could tell from the flash of doubt in Izzy’s eyes that he didn’t believe them, but they knew that they would never stop trying to make him believe it. Deciding not to push the subject, Mo pulled him down into a kiss. They could feel goosebumps rising as their bare arms rested on Izzy’s exposed shoulders, one hand curled into his hair and the other resting on his muscled back. They could feel the heat coming off of him through their thin undershirt as he wrapped his arms around them, holding them tightly.

The two broke apart, resting their foreheads against each other’s.

“Come on,” Mo whispered, giving him a small smile. “Let’s get you to bed.”

They reluctantly removed their hands from Izzy’s body, picking up one of his hands instead. They let him lead them to the bed, sitting down and scootching to the far end after he lifted the blankets up for them. Izzy sat on the edge of the bed and undid the laces on his boots, kicking them off and setting them to the side near the desk. He leaned over to extinguish the lantern sitting on the desk, then tucked his legs under the blanket, settling down for the night. Once their eyes adjusted to the dark, Izzy wrapped an arm around Mo and pulled them over to lay on his chest.

Mo reached out to run their thumb along his jaw, smiling as they felt his stubble. Izzy gently took their roaming hand, toying with their fingers as he sighed gently. After a moment, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to their knuckles.

“Are you going to be here when I wake up?” Mo asked. “Or will you be off doing your first mate duties?”

“I’ll probably be up before you, but I’ll try not to wake you.” They grinned. “That’s not why I was asking, but thank you. I was just thinking about how nice it would be to spend the morning together, but I get it.” They snuggled closer to him, smiling to themselves. “You’re a busy man. I’ll just take the time I can get.”

Izzy sighed. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay, but Bonnet’s crew could get themselves killed by noon without guidance.”

Mo giggled, propping their chin up on his chest to look up at him. “You do remember that I’m a part of that crew, right?”

He frowned. “Well, present company excluded, of course.”

“Alright, well I appreciate you heroically saving the lives of my friends,” Mo said sarcastically, tracing a scar on Izzy’s chest with their finger. They sighed happily as they settled back down, relishing the feel of the gentle rise and fall of his breathing under their head. “Guess we should get some sleep,” they said reluctantly. “Goodnight, Izzy.”

A rough hand ran up their arm, making them feel warm and fuzzy inside. They let the repetitive motion lull them into drowsiness, knowing they were safe in Izzy’s arms.

“Goodnight, love.”

[dapurinthos]

on kohlma: dooku: i am taking advantage of the memory holes that episodes of mental illness leave behind to perform nefarious deeds before i need to take this child to the bogg-3 jedi outpost for a check-up. ari: oh so this is the bad place. meanwhile, on coruscant: mace: teach that boy you found to keep his thoughts to himself so i don't get more headaches, qui-gon. qui-gon: *opens mouth* ki-adi-mundi: say 'chosen one' one more time. i fucking dare you. lene: hey where's my padawan's padawan. yoda: sent away for their own health they were. lene: ... where. yoda: in the presence of one with whom they share a first-contact bond they are. lene: this is the bad place.

aka 'hey there's a jedi chapterhouse on one of the moons of bogden. u kno who's also on one of the moons of bogden. the same one as one of dooku's castles?'

subtitled: @bolithesenate i blame you.

Someone is tapping their fingers against their thumb. A nervous tick, silenced. The index finger taps first, and then again, followed by the second. A third rendition consists of the index, second, and third tapping in quick succession. The fourth incorporates its numerical equal. There is no fifth version. It begins again, with a single tap of the index finger. It’s not nails against skin. It’s a bloodier taste than that. Where there should exist fingerprints, there is nothing but icy smoothness. There are conductive patches there, like winter gloves with the ability to facilitate the use of touchscreens. No fingernails moulded into the prosthetic to scratch with. Why is that the first use for fingernails? I twitch my own fingers, matching the rhythm. One. One-two, one-two-three, one-two-three-four. It matches to the other hand, the one that’s not my own, the one that has hinges instead of articular cartilage. I’ve caught myself up on another person, loose threads hooked by a prickle-bush. By a broken fingernail. Tap. Tap, tap. Broken fingers, shattered fingers. My hand doesn’t feel right, with its flesh and sinew and fascia and — “Stop.” Dooku’s voice cuts through the twisting thoughts unravelling me. The metal fingers still, then form a fist. Rage flares out like the first stage of a nuclear explosion, knife-edged delirium dissipating into a snaggle of hatred-agitation-panic-indignant-furious-how-dare mounting into absolute apoplexy that slaps me in the face with a skirling high-pitched enough to make my blood run cold. I stumble back inside myself, pulling the curtains shut to block out the noise. I have covers to hide under, but I need more than that. “Where did you learn that?”

[dobadoo]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ OH MY SWEET GIRL..꒱ ˎˊ˗ wanderer

Wanderer never thought about people in such a vicious and obscene aspect… but as for you, everything is completely different.

✧ warnings — NSFW. fem ! virgin ! reader, cuniculingus, fingering, xenophilia (reader) , gentle sex, just fluff at the end, minors do not interact. !! ✧ a/n — my dears, sorry in advance for my English, I wrote everything in my native language and translated. enjoy!

must listen with .. Nessa Barrett - dirty little secret

Hah.. Wanderer for all 500 years of life, full of resentment, anger at the whole world and people, I can't even think that he will look with such adoration at a simple mortal girl like you.. so worried about your pleasure, so tenderly stroke and cherish, all this was so vicious.. But so nice, damn nice.

But now, you are awkwardly lying on your small bed, in only stockings with a belt, and the wanderer is hanging over you, without the usual white haori, in only black gloves and a thin turtleneck, a tight-fitting structurally puppet body. So pleasant for your eyes. The wanderer made a cheerful hum when he noticed how you embarrassedly covered your chest with both hands, what a ridiculous innocent gesture.. He thought, grinning, intercepts your thin wrists, lowering your hands to the sides.

"It took me just one second to get a good look at you", - He whispers and you blush again.

"So why be shy when it's pointless?"

You nod hesitantly. The Wanderer closes his eyes, listening to the sensations, and carefully pulls back the fabric of your panties, running his finger along your hot, wet folds. You exhale loudly, digging your nails into his shoulder and barely holding back an intermittent moan when he presses his fingertips onto your most sensitive spots.

"We haven't even started yet, and you're already at your peak."

The Wanderer speaks up again, penetrating you with two fingers, lightly massaging your excited clitoris with his thumb. You moan muffledly, willingly responding to his actions, and try to press as close as possible in order to fully enjoy the moment. Archons…his fingers, how long have you been waiting for this, these fingers are so thin and long, moving so quickly but gently inside you that you want to choke!

"Its just…You…" - You answer on an exhale and scream when he reaches the sweetest point inside you with one sharp movement.

"..The first one who makes you embarrassed literally every minute?"

Not wanting to hear your obvious answer, the puppet pulled you into a short kiss on the lips.

Unexpectedly for himself, the Wanderer gently tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear, pulling wet fingers out of you, You whined resentfully when you felt emptiness inside. You let out a light sigh when the Wanderer left an air kiss between your breasts, going down, leading the road of kisses. You nervously watched him, breathing heavily.

"Mhm.."

He left a soft kiss on your pubis, and settled between your spread thighs, looking into your eyes, peering into your face with his indigo eyes that shone under the moonlight, he looked at your face, every hollow to the smallest detail, as if he was seeing it for the last time.. The puppet slightly spread your thighs with two hands in black gloves, his gaze went lower, looking at your warmth, without lust, without any rudeness.

Wanderer let out a raspy sigh, giving you the cold touch of his lips over your stomach and lower, he stopped to kiss your groin before moving lower.

"Haha..So fragile...Adorable"

A soft smile appeared on your flushed face, hearing such words from someone like him was so strange and so foreign, these words and touch.. like a soft breeze enveloping you. The wanderer, staring into your eyes, drinking in your adoration, his tongue darted out, tracing the delicate line of your slit. A soft moan escaped your trembling lips. Emboldened by these sounds, he plunged deeper, swirling around your sensitive clit before exploring the depths of your warmth inside.

He savored every reaction, every shudder and gasp, marveling at your trust. Time seemed to blur as he continued his caresses, alternating gentle circles and firmer strokes. To be honest, the wanderer had never experienced such an intimate feeling for mortals, and now, he did not feel such "arousal". But he did not deny at all that he knew perfectly well how everything was arranged, do you think this puppet does not know how to properly satisfy his woman?..

Lost in the throes of love, he admired the trust and vulnerability imprinted on your face. Never did he imagine that his hands, which were elbow-deep in the blood of innocent and not only people, could bring such delight to someone as refined as you. he gently stroked your sides, devouring you with tenderness and passion. Undoubtedly, his love for you was deeper than the bottomless oceans.

The Wanderer buried his face even deeper in your warmth as if he had devoured the most delicious food (even if he didn't feel hungry), slightly squelching and wet sounds filled your small room, but apparently, this didn't bother the Puppet at all, on the contrary.. He stopped the movement of the tongue and look at you with cloudy indigo eyes, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb.

"Tell me, my Heart, are you close?"

"Yes..please don't stop.."

"Oh my sweet girl.."

You rolled your eyes, everything around you became cloudy and dizzy, you threw your head back, allowing yourself the audacity to press your hand to his indigo hair, when the Wanderer settled down again between your spread legs. Your languid sighs changed to loud moans, or rather, even screams?

The puppet slowed down for a moment, hearing such sounds from you, he smiled slightly.. He was used to hearing screams of horror and despair, but hearing screams of pleasure and admiration from you is something completely different. The wanderer immediately increased the intensity of his caresses with his tongue, pushing you closer to the cherished edge.

"Im gonna..O-Ohh"

"Mfhh.."

The quiet creak of your old bed rushes through the room, mixing with muffled splashing sounds, smacking and intermittent moans, squeezing all the space into a vacuum, leaving only the two of you and nothing else. As if the world around does not exist at all, only his icy skin in contrast to yours, wet and hot.

You press your hips closer to his tongue, hold his hair, and scream loudly. How good it is that the wanderer does not need to breathe.

Feeling your fingers unconsciously tighten from the approaching orgasm, you let out a loud, slightly painful cry. The muscles inside you contract, pulsating noticeably, and you throw your head back onto the pillow, trying to catch your breath. The wanderer leaves his tongue on your crotch a little longer, and growls muffled, burying his nose in your pubis. You laugh quietly when he crawls up to you, ruffling your hair and he softly kisses your swollen lips, intertwining your fingers

Wanderer himself, slowly lay down on your chest, right where the youe heart is, which, by the way, is beating very fast. He heard this sound for the first time, before that he could only fantasize about how a human heart beats, so he was in no hurry to get up or disturb this rare idyll for both of you.

"You so loud, it's ringing in my ears..and how are you not ashamed..mm?."

Puppet raised his head and slyly looked into your eyes. You understood perfectly well that you were all disheveled, red, and the puppet felt great and after a while was ready for the second round. Wanderer lightly flicked you on the nose, then laying down on your chest.

"And now let me lie down for a bit. Your heart is about to give away all your secrets, beauty.."

i love him

[niphredil-14]

From Dying to Dyeing (Jason Todd/GN!Reader)

He stood in front of the bathroom sink, staring at his reflection, unmoving for what was mere seconds to him, though to the world had been several minutes. They took notice, they always did, almost as if they had some sixth sense for when their lover boy was feeling less than his worth. And so, they went to him, steps and movements loud enough to alert, but not to startle, and wrapped their arms around his waist.

“’m okay.” But his voice was tight, and the body doesn’t lie. They could feel him tense, his pulse picking up speed just a bit, the corners of his lips pulled taut, and his irises shaking ever so slightly. They knew it was a lie, though more intended for himself than for them, and responded by squeezing his torse in a quick, one-two fashion, and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his shoulder. He sighed and lifted a hand to the white streak at the front of his dark curls, twirling the strands around his index finger in slow counterclockwise circles. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, voice rumbling through his chest and back, reverberating into theirs. “I fuckin’ hate this thing. ‘S like a constant reminder that I wasn’t strong enough.”

“You were a child, Jay. A child that was seriously wronged. None of it was your fault, baby.” His hand left the colorless streak, and moved to rest atop theirs, his eyes downcast.

“Maybe.” He was clearly in one of his rare, non-argumentative moods.

---

Morning light streamed through the windows, gracing the two figures perched on the worn, dark green sofa with warmth. He sat on one end, legs spread out, reaching to the other end and then some, resting on top of theirs. He held a book, some old copy of an Austen novel that he’d read many a time. They sat on the opposite end of the couch, thoughts swimming and swirling in their mind like the coffee in their mug. Their voice broke him from his focus on the ink filled pages.

“Jay Love? Do you think I’m good-looking?” The question was spoken quietly, but against the silence of their shared living space, it felt as though its volume could rival that of a mosh pit. He looked up at them, placing a bookmark between the pages, and softly pressed the covers together, placing the tome on the coffee table. 

“Of course, sweetheart, I’ve never seen anybody that looks better than you.” He looked at them softly, questions swirling like a storm in the waters of his eyes. “The most beautiful, the most handsome, the most attractive person I’ve ever had the honor of knowing.” 

“What if I had features that you didn’t like though?”

“You don’t. I love all of you, and there isn’t one part of you that I don’t find absolutely radiant, doll.” They sighed and twitched and pursed their lip from side to side.

“But for argument’s sake, Jason. What if I changed my appearance to something you didn’t find attractive? What then?” He leaned forward and grabbed their chin between his index and thumb, turning them to face him. 

“Y/n, no matter how you changed, no matter what you lost or gained, no matter what you did, there is no aspect of you that I couldn’t love, that I wouldn’t learn to love.”

“You mean that, Jay?”

“Of course, baby, why do you ask?” They smiled softly.

“No real reason, I’ve just been considering dyeing my hair.”

---

The apartment was quiet, except for the soft electric buzzing of the yellow light, flickering above their head. He had gone out on patrol that night, and it was their turn to stand before the bathroom mirror, fiddling with their hair. A bottle of hair bleach sat on the counter, and a brush rested in their gloved hands. It was a risky move, but if it went well, then it might just help Jay, and that was worth any risk they could take. They went through the motions, and before long, they had a thin white streak at the forefront of their hair. Not long after they finished cleaning up did he arrive home, wearing his full Red Hood save for the helmet, which was slung under his arm. Immediately, he took notice of their hair and stopped to gape at them. 

“Whaddya think?” They smiled at him.

“Why?” he said back, dumbfounded, walking over to them and rubbing the white strands between his fingers.

“You said you’d learn to love any of my features, didn’t you?” He gave a small nod and hum in response. “Well, now you’ll be learning to love yours too.” 

He paused for a moment, and then leaned down to kiss them, a small smile pressed against their mouth. 

“Thanks, doll.” he murmured against their lips, breath fanning across their face.

“Anything for you, darling.” they replied.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Coffee Run - Hawks x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Hawks simply wanted to enjoy his coffee in peace, but you had needs of your own, especially knowing he was entering his rut. You know what they say... be careful with what you wish for, because you just might get it.

Warnings: NSFW. Rut!Hawks. Feral Hawks. Public sex. Breeding kink. Pregnancy kink. Lactation kink (brief mention). Featherplay. Slight overstimulation.

Word count: 3.7k

Hawks was nearing his rut. That much was clear. Keeping up an easy going appearance was what he excelled at, until he hit that particular time of the year. Until he was forced to take that medication that would suppress his primal instinct to breed.

But rarely anything in this world came without bearing unpleasant consequences.

“I’ll just have the usual. Thanks.”

The young waitress then turned to you expectantly. “And you, miss?”

You pondered for a second as you eyed the pro hero sitting in front of you. To anyone oblivious to the changes occurring in his body they might think he was just not a morning person.

An idea popped in your mind all of a sudden.

“I’ll have a strawberry lollipop,” you finally said, causing Hawks to briefly lift his eyes from the phone in his hand. “What? I have a sweet tooth.”

The waitress nodded and walked away. He was still glaring at you, one fuzzy eyebrow slightly arched.

“Just that? It’s not a proper breakfast.”

“Neither is coffee, yet here we are.”

He shrugged at your response, shifting his attention back to his phone.

Coffee was his personal mood booster. It was dangerous to demand anything from a rutting Hawks until he had drunk an unhealthy amount of it.

The sun was barely out, and that was exactly why he’d choose this café. Only a few people would be there, which meant he wouldn’t have to deal with loud fans walking up to him and asking for selfies or autographs... or even hugs. It was perfect to hide from everyone how moody and snappy he could get in times like these.

But you figured he still wasn’t taking the medication. He always dreaded it because of how groggy and lethargic it’d leave him.

“You okay?”

He had his index finger flicking up and down on the screen. “Sure.”

But what Hawks didn’t know was that... well... you knew what why he was acting so unlike him.

Soon after, the waitress came back with a large cup of coffee and your lollipop that you promptly snatched from the tray with a smile.

Hawks mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ and you watched him take a few gulps of the hot beverage, while you removed the wrapping.

He sighed in pure relief as his huge wings vibrated from the instant pleasure. “I really needed this.”

You also reckoned he needed something else.

Sliding the round candy in your mouth, you propped your chin on interlaced fingers, regarding him quizzically.

“Is that all you need?”

The apparent innocent question had his golden eyes meet yours. However, you needed them to travel south, so you parted your lips seductively and dangled the lollipop from one corner of your mouth to the other with your tongue.

Bingo.

Hawks’ eyes dropped to your mouth in an instant, taking in the sight of you skilfully twirling the stick while letting out some lewd wet sounds.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? I love sucking...” you said innocently.

The cup in his hand cracked lightly from his tight grip, and a faint frown settled on his beautiful face.

“You sure you okay?”

For someone who was able to maintain an wavering smile not matter the circumstances, Hawks really was falling behind his reputation. Maybe it wasn’t wise for you to keep pushing him like this. All the innuendos and teasing would eventually get him to snap.

You kept on sucking and licking the hard candy happily, eyeing your boyfriend with utmost interest.

He took another sip of his hot coffee, and you noticed his pupils were slightly dilated. Undoubtedly, the visual of you sucking on something was a enough to spark his arousal.

“Hmm... this tastes so good...” you moaned softly, fluttering your eyes shut for a brief moment. “Want to taste it?”

When he didn’t reply, you decided to take it up a notch. You kicked off your shoe and moved it to touch his leg.

He arched an eyebrow.

Slowly, you began sliding it up his leg and only stopped once you’d reached his inner thigh.

“Stop...”

You let the round candy caress your bottom lip, making sure he could see strings of your saliva sliding down to coat your tongue. Mustering a bit more courage, you dragged your feet until it reached his crotch.

Hawks was hard as a rock.

“You’re so warm...” you whispered, rubbing your foot against his cock.

You could tell he was about to snap.

“Hawks? Honey, look! It’s Hawks!”

You quickly turned your head to look at a young couple that was approaching your table. It couldn’t be avoided. Even in the early hours there would always be someone who was a fan of Hawks.

Hawks was forced to regain his composure, and you figure it was taking every single fibre in his body to produce his trademark unwavering grin.

The woman seemed a little hesitant at first. “Are we interrupting something? I’m so sorry... we are big fans.”

“You are such an inspiration to us,” the man added with excitement.

“Thank you!” Hawks beamed, his beautiful features never betraying what was going on under the table. “Want an autograph?”

She quickly nodded, rummaging through her purse to get a pen. “Our baby will love you, too. We’ll make sure of that.”

Hawks visibly swallowed. “Baby?”

“Yes! We found out we’re going to be parents last week.”

You side-eyed him closely. Inwardly, you started cackling in delight, knowing far too well this was one of Hawks’ most intimate triggers. It was far too obvious that being in his rut made it all much worse for him

“Congratulations! How is everything going?” you inquired sweetly, applying gentle pressure on his covered erection with your toes.

He shifted in his seat, doing his best to cope with the sudden stimulation coming from you.

The woman seemed taken aback by your kindness and quickly bowed her head while handing the pen to Hawks.

“Oh, the morning sickness can be quite draining, but otherwise I can’t complain.”

Her partner handed Hawks a copy of a magazine that had him on the cover. He blushed awkwardly. “She keeps it in her purse in case we run into you so we can get an autograph.”

“That’s awesome,” he said genuinely, his voice slightly strained as he drew his signature on it. “Thanks for the support.”

The couple retrieved the magazine and bowed to both of you before walking away.

“That is so cool...” you said, twirling the lollipop stick in between your thumb and index finger. “I wonder what it feels like being pregnant.”

Hawks moved your foot away from his crotch. “Bathroom. Now.”

Your mouth fell open at his sudden outburst, sliding your foot back into your shoe. “Why?”

He rose to his full height as his red wings quivered slightly. “I’m done with you.”

Placing the hard candy back on its wrapping, you gulped as you followed his lead. The café had started to get more clients, and some of them shot a few glares at the winged hero.

The waitress was eyeing both of you. “Is everything okay?”

Hawks shot a brief smile. “She’s not feeling well.”

He certainly had a way to have things go his way.

She looked at yo worriedly. “Should I get help?”

Hawks hurried you into the bathroom, before adding. “She’s with the number two pro hero. I’m all the help she needs.”

Point taken.

Hawks pulled you into a small cubicle, shutting the door with a kick. You heard the lock rattle and you took the opportunity turn around to face him. His massive wings struggled to fit inside the confined space, which caused him to look more menacing as they coiled up against his body.

“You’re rutting.”

His pupils were fully blown and you briefly saw something flash in his eyes. “Of course you know.”

“I know a lot of things,” you cooed, dragging down one hand to squeeze him through his pants. “You’re not taking your medication.”

You’d been dating Hawks for a few months now, and you found out that he went through a rut every year by mere chance. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots after hearing a phone conversation between him and someone from the commission — you assumed it was a doctor —, who insisted that Hawks had to take the hormonal suppressant medication to lessen the effects, allowing him to function properly.

“I don’t fucking need it,” he snarled at you through gritted teeth.

“I think you do... if you’re so willing to fuck me in a public bathroom,” you whispered seductively, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “I wonder what made you snap... was it the conversation about pregnancy... or—“

Hawks had had enough of your running your mouth, and with little effort on his part, he flipped you over so that you were now pressed against the bathroom sink, a tall mirror capturing your surprised expression along with his feral one.

“No, little bird...” he growled, hooking his gloved fingers in the belt loops of your pants. “I am not gonna fuck you. I’m gonna breed you.”

It was a dark promise, and one you knew he could keep. After all, that was the purpose of a rut: to breed. Every single cell in his body was prepared for this, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pretend this sudden shift in Hawks’ demeanor didn’t make your pussy clench.

Your hands were supporting your weight by gripping the edge of the cold material of the sink, and you tentatively leaned forward in an attempt to brush against his crotch.

Hawks slid one hand to your front, effectively undoing your pants. “You’re ovulating... fuck...”

That caught by surprise. “What...”

He shifted his body on top of yours, so he could nuzzle your neck, capturing your scent.

“I can smell it... fuck...fuck... you need to be bred...”

In one swift motion, he yanked your pants down. Hawks was usually so much more gentle with you during sex; this was definitely something unexpected, but that you couldn’t stop yourself from yearning.

On the other hand, you considered his words for a moment. Did he really mean it? Did he really want to knock you up, or was this just his hormones talking?

Either way, this was turning you on beyond belief, and you decided to egg him on.

“You want to breed me?”

He was nipping at your neck, causing a few of his moans to be heard. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.

“I need to knock you up... I need you tummy all swollen with my baby,” the young man kept mumbling more to himself than to you, but you couldn’t get enough of it. “I need your... your...”

A gush of wetness leaked out of your pussy as you felt him fumbling with his belt. Through the reflection in the mirror, you could see a faint blush settling on his face, increasing his handsomeness by a tenfold — you didn’t even know how that was possible.

“My what...” your voice came out in a low mewl, keeping your hips swaying at a steady pace.

Hawks undid his pants at once, and gave your ass cheeks a few slaps with his leaking cock.

He gripped your hip tightly. “Let me see your tits...”

You kept yourself balance on one hand as the other dragged the fabric of your shirt up, rolling it just above your breasts. Hawks released his cock, bringing his hips forward to have it slide between your round cheeks; you could start to feel the wetness coating your skin and standing your panties as he kept humping you. His free hand moved to grasp your bra, jerking the material down and finally exposing your hardening nipples.

Hawks heaved a deep breath, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your body through the mirror.

“Can’t wait until they get bigger... full of milk... leaking for me...” he brushed his gloved thumb across your sensitive nipple, causing it to harden even more. “I bet it will taste so good... so sweet... you know I love sweet things.”

Your mind was going blank from all the pleasure being delivered to you at once. From his cock slowly fucking your ass cheeks all the way to the way he was glaring at you through some public bathroom mirror while spitting out the filthiest things you had ever heard him utter.

He snapped his hips hard for a split second, almost causing you to lose balance, forcing you to grip the sink with both hands, eyes still fixed on the way your breasts bounced softly along with each shove from him.

Slowly, he dragged his hand to your lower abdomen, massaging it with spread fingers. “Fuck... I need to feel it getting swollen... gonna knock you up so good.”

Streaks of precum were sliding down your cheeks, leaving wet trails behind and sending jolts of pleasure running down your spine.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna make you cum fast,” he suddenly said.

You weren’t really sure why he was apologizing for that, or even how he intended to achieve such feat. Hawks was more than capable of pleasuring women, but even the most skilled man certainly had his limitations when it came to how fast they could make a woman reach her high.

Even so, apologizing for giving someone an orgasm probably ranked up high with the likes of “Sorry, but I’m going to give you a new house” or “Sorry, but I’m going to give you an unlimited supply of money”. Out of all the things he could feel sorry for — like desperately banging you in some public bathroom, for example—, that one should be the least of his concerns.

As if reading the skepticism splattered across your face, he gave you a knowing smile, and before you could even wonder what he meant by that you felt something poking your covered clit.

What the...

“Hawks!”

You didn’t expect desperate Hawks to play fair, but this was on another level. The fabric covering your soaked pussy was being pulled to the side, and in no time a velvety object started proving your pulsing clit.

He was using his feathers.

Now you knew what he meant by making you cum fast, the bastard. The sensation was overwhelming, and you vaguely wondered why he had never tried this before.

“Shh... I need you to cum first, so I can have your pussy milking my cock,” he pressed a kiss on your neck. “Be a good girl and keep your voice down.”

With one hand still caressing your tummy and the other squeezing one breasts softly, you tried hard to bite back your moans as his feather kept stroking your clit as he commanded.

You started panting heavily, drunk in pleasure. “I... I... Hawks...”

Seeing that you weren’t going to be able to keep quiet, he brought the hand on your breast to clamp it over your mouth.

“You’re so ready for me... I can feel the vibrations through my feather... you’re throbbing so much for me, baby...”

And it was the absolute truth. Your were absolutely sure his feather was already drenched in your juices, but you didn’t care at all. A few more flicks and strokes sent your hips into auto-pilot, trying to get more friction.

Long and drawn out moans erupted from your throat only to be muffled by his gloved hand.

You could feel something in your core swirling and shifting and through the haze of passion, you could tell it was the tension building up inside you that was reaching a dangerous peak.

“Good girl... t-that’s my girl... getting ready for me to breed her...”

His dirty talk served as the perfect incentive for you to get closer and closer to the edge. You saw your vision begin to tunnel and suddenly you fell headfirst into the explosion of pleasure that had your arms and legs shake violently, and you thanked the heavens that Hawks’ body was pressed against yours, or you’d have sunk to your feet.

But before your pussy could stop contracting around nothing, you felt your body being pushed forward and in one quick slide, his cock was buried deep inside you.

Hawks’ hips faltered for a second as he adjusted to your tightness. “Fuck!”

The feather brushing your clit stopped its ministrations, and as your field of vision started clearing, you saw it hovering in front of your face. It was completely covered in your juices and a few droplets dripped onto the sink. His hand fell to grip your hip, and your lips immediately parted in a silent scream as overstimulation took over.

“Keep it open... lick... lick it...” he groaned, his voice strained and shaky as his cock endured your contractions.

You extended your tongue out, allowing is feather to drag along it, pooling your wetness on your tongue.

Hawks’ reflection shivered before your eyes at the newfound source of pleasure. “F-fuuuck... just like that...”

His wings fluttered as so did the feather stroking your muscle, and even though your orgasm had already subsided, the never ending stimulation from his thick cock hitting deep inside you was just too much.

“I’m gonna lose it! Fuck!” he nearly cried out, ad you could only pray that no one could hear him outside.

Your knees bucked weakly as he snapped his hips into you once, twice and again closing in on his own release, but the moment you ran your tongue over the sensitive extension of his body you knew he was done for. He bucked up to meet your hips in an especially sharp thrust and you could feel the hot gush of his cum deep inside you, coating your trembling walls, mixing with your own juices.

He hadn’t lasted long, but you weren’t at all surprised, considering how much the vast array of different stimuli that he was subjected to in such a sort amount of time.

A few seconds ticked by, and he finally began pulling out, you pussy reflexively clamping around him as if to make him stay.

“Stop clenching like that before I get hard again...” he warned, giving your ass a soft smack as he slid out completely with a loud slurping sound.

You whimpered softly as emptiness filled you instead. As you were about to straighten yourself, you felt a blob of cum threading to spill, and Hawks promptly kept you leaning forward.

“I didn’t just fill you with a big load for you to waste it all,” and with that, he dragged the tip of his cock along your leaking pussy and pushed it back inside. “There you go... all stuffed again.”

The head of his cock didn’t stay inside you for long, and once he slid out you reached for paper from the dispenser hanging on the wall.

He grabbed your arm. “No.”

“I need to clean myself...”

“No, you don’t,” Hawks whispered sweetly into your ear, and you felt him tug at your panties before letting the fabric slap your over sensitive clit. “You’re gonna be a good girl and keep it all in.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Certainly, he didn’t mean that....

“Hawks... I can’t walk around with your cum dripping from me,” you stated as a matter of fact.

You saw his reflection in the mirror; he had a devious smile dancing on his lips, making your insides coil in sudden realization.

“Didn’t you want me to breed you? Then keep my cum inside your tight pussy,” he began, planting soft caring kisses on the side of your neck in between. “Think you can do that for me, beautiful?”

Feeling your panties sticking to your swollen lips with the aftermath of both your juices and drops of his cum made a shiver run down you entire body.

You nodded once.

Suddenly, he bent over slightly to grasp the waistband of your pants, quickly dragging them up your thighs.

“Time to go,” he huffed as one of his gloved hands brushed along his unruly golden locks of hair. “This was just meant to be a quick coffee run.”

There was a faint smudge of pink crossing his nose and resting on both his cheeks. He looked positively less tense, with his blush being the only indicator that he had just emptied his balls deep inside you.

He unlocked the door and exited first, but not before shooting his Hawks-like smile at you. “I’ll be going ahead to pay and deal with the fans.”

You chuckled as the door closed, and turned to look at your reflection in the mirror while adjusting your clothes. “Well... don’t look at me like that. He’s impossible to resist, especially like this...”

After you were done washing your hands, you took a few steps immediately feeling a few drops of cum dripping onto your panties. You clenched your pussy hard in the hopes of preventing more from spilling.

This was not going to end well.

Taking a deep breath, you walked out and were met with the waitress. “Oh! Are you alright now?”

Yeah, I just got fucked hard and I have cum leaking from me. “Yes! Thank you, and sorry for leaving like that... I really wasn’t feeling well.”

She nodded in understanding, stepping aside to let you walk into the lobby only to see a loud commotion of people piling up around something. Big massive turfs of scarlet feathers quickly gave it away and you smiled fondly.

Hawks.

A few girls standing nearby were giggling to each other, catching your attention.

“Oh my... he’s so much more handsome up close,” one said with a dreamy sigh.

“His wings are so pretty...” the other murmured.

Yes. Hawks had that effect on nearly everyone he crossed paths with. In one way or another, people had the tendency to fall fo him and be drawn by his quirky personality. Even if at the end of the day, once he got home, you could see the wearing effects of having to keep up with this society’s standards.

As the crowd began to disperse, he waved a hand at you.

“It was so nice to have you here, Hawks,” the young waitress blurted out as you two made your exit. “Please come again!”

The number two pro hero bowed his head and gave her a thumbs up. “I’m sure I will. Very soon,” he winked at you.

Very poor choice of words.

-

Masterlist

[plush-rabbit]

Aphrodisiac Induced Angel and Sorcerer

Word Count: 1K Each

A/N: i have nothing to say except that grass can’t fix my thristing. i also like to think that solomon would be a complete mess if given the chance to be with mc in an intimate way

-

Intro:

The angel can’t help but bounce in his steps as he walks up the steps of the House of Lamentation. You invited him over for help on a project. Simeon would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a twinge of pride at you coming to him for help. Surely, you could have gone to the brothers or anyone else, but you chose him. He smiles at the thought, grabbing the handle of the front door and letting himself in. The cold air of the house stings against his skin, warm from his own internal heat but also from the walk. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to spend time afterwards with you where studying won’t be the thing that keeps you two together but rather you wanting him to be there. For now, the time that he has with you will remain uninterrupted and while that may not last long, he only pleads with himself that perhaps you’ll become distracted and in turn you’ll lose focus and beg for him to pay attention to you, textbooks forgotten and only the sound of your laughter filling his ears.

It’s wishful thinking, thinking that has his face burn in fear that somehow Father is listening to his every thought and watching him with unblinking and judgemental eyes. His breath catches in his throat, suffocating him and he has to remind himself, mumbling under his breath that as long as he’s in Devildom, he remains unseen. He walks into the kitchen, opting to calm himself before he accompanies you- he doesn’t want the time that he spends with you to be sullied by something frivolous as thinking. At the kitchen table sits a plate of baked goods, a lovely handwritten note creeping from under it, warning the reader to not eat any of the treats.

The time that he spends in Devildom must be corrupting him. He’s sure of it. His glove is dotted with crumbs, his eyes glancing towards the entryway grateful that no one is there to watch as he takes a bite out of something that he was warned not to. It’s not as if there should be much harm to it, there were plenty on the plate and there still are. The treat melts in his mouth, burning his tongue and making his eyes water. It burns him and he takes more, scarfing down the treat and leaning over the counter, his eyes wide and body now aflame. It tastes so familiar, the way that the treat melts in his mouth and weighs heavy on his tongue, so sweet that it must be a crime.

His chest is tight, his hand scratching down the counter and his head grows foggy. Simeon walks towards you, knocking gingerly at the door, his chest still and lungs burning with the desire to breathe- to breathe in something, anything, your own scent, something so intoxicating that it fills his lungs with the sweet relief of air. Looking at you, he wonders if this is what it feels like to be human, to want and have your own body constrict around itself despite knowing its sin.

Simeon:

Simeon doesn’t know why he goes to you. He’s aware of what’s happening to him- the burning desire deep in him, the way that the thought of you makes his heart beat against his chest in a way that makes him scared it’ll actually rupture past his ribs and spill his blood on the floor beneath him. He can hear you come to the door, the shadow under the small space and the twisting of the knob. His breath hitches in his throat when he looks at you, his mind swirling with thoughts of you- wanting to hold you, wanting to kiss you, wanting to pin you against your bed and kiss your neck. You call his name and he collapses into your arms, his hands grasping fitsfuls of your shirt in his hand. His breath is ragged, heavy and puffing against your bare neck and you stumble when he walks forward, out of the way from the doorframe, far enough to kick the door close. He isn’t sure what he is doing, but he knows that when he’s beside you, he’s breathing in your scent and that only makes him want to pull you closer.

You’re the only thought he has in his mind- the only one that he is able to make sense of. He leans against you, his eyes closing and his grip on you tightening. He whispers an apology, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, his voice sweet as he lets his lips graze against your earlobe and rest on your neck. His apologies are slurred, his weight leaning against you as he clings to you tightly. He confesses that he had eaten something he shouldn’t have and now he stands in your arms with a cock that throbs in the confines of his pants. He flinches at your touch, burying his head into the crook of your neck, whining when your hand parts through his hair and your fingertips lay at the base of his neck. If he had known what the effects of the sweet would have been he would have never taken it, he promises with a shaky breath.

It’s hard to think when you’re so close to him. His mind is foggy and the only thing he can think about is how sweet you smell, how earthly and the scent of your cream faint against his nose. He’s desperate, gingerly pressing himself close to your thigh only to flinch when he makes contact. Your heart beats, pulsing against his lips and he wonders what you’d taste like, how you’d feel under his lips and before he’s even able to think about that, he starts to cry, clinging close to you with tears that glisten down the curve of his face. His eyes are brimmed with tears, begging for you to take care of him. The pulsing is too much, he can’t think and the only thing that can even come close to a thought is you. He falls to his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him, his face pressed against your plump stomach. He begs for your forgiveness- his straight up perversion as he cries against you, unable to take the growing ache in his pants.

Sin starts to overtake him, pulling him close and leading him to the bed where he lies above your comforter, his hands covering his face and his legs shaking. He can already feel semen leak past his briefs and stain the inside of his pants from just the simple guidance to your bed. Despite the sin that he commits, you treat him with kindness, cupping his face and shushing him when his sob catches in his throat. Your hands flutter to his thighs, squeezing the muscle and he can hear your breathless laugh when he jerks in response. He begs for no more teasing, he doesn’t think he can handle it when he’s already in such a vulnerable position. As pitiful as it is, he lets out a whine when you unzip his pants but you don’t laugh and through the gaps between his fingers, he can see you smile softly down at him. You pet his cock between the briefs, his breath catching is his throat as he watches you toy with the outline of his cock. More semen leaks, staining his briefs in a darker color.

His breath is still sweet, his heart beating against his chest and his eyes filled with tears, as he shuts his eyes when his cock meets the cool air of your room. Your hand wraps around his cock, and arches his back into your loose fist. His bulging base is firm as it throbs in your hand, small ripples that form underneath your palm as you give a tentative squeeze. The angel beside you is adorned with a flushed face, his eyes shining with unshed tears and your name on his lips. Your hands leave his cock and he shakes his head, muttering “no” under his breath. He’s already felt you and he’s so drunk off of love and want, that he can’t bear for you to move away from him. Not when you’re so close. You pull him upwards, letting him rest beside you, your body close to his as your hand wraps around his cock, lazily pumping him. He hides his face, panting and thrusting his hips in a sloppy fashion to meet your hand. Simeon is under the light of your room, the pale orange glow and the stars that peek between your curtain, his cock twitching and spilling in a pearly white onto your hand that cradles him gently. There’s a building pressure in his stomach, one that makes him eager to kiss you and touch you despite everything in him screaming that this action is already too far. As if you could read his distressed thoughts, your hand flutters to his face, lifting him upwards to kiss at the corner of his lips. His tongue lolls out, gasping for breath and your thumb runs over his ridges. Your name is repeated, sullied by the angel’s lustful nature as he spills his seed in your hands, and he reaches out, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss that only makes his leg shake in ecstasy.

Intro:

Solomon walks into the House of Lamentation, taking great glee that everyone else happens to be busy with some task that pertains to their specific realm. While he, however, gets to indulge in some quality alone time with you. He walks into the house, his smile creeping as the house is silent. He really does have you all to himself- he gets to just sit around and talk to you without disturbance. His tongue peeks to wet his lips, his mouth dry and thirst lingers to linger. You already know that he’s here, having messaged you early, he calls your name, letting you know that he’s in the kitchen. He can hear a muffled reply, one that he can’t quite make out due to the thick walls. Assuming that you might have asked for a drink, he pulls two out of the fridge, setting them down on the counter.

In the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of something shining under the light, his attention now turned to it. On the counter sits a glass covered plate with neatly arranged baked sweets inside of it. There’s a sticky note attached- elegant handwriting that tells the reader not to take one without permission. There’s plenty of them, and finding no harm in taking just one, he does a quick glance around the room to make sure it is empty. With delicate hands, he lifts the glass cover, grabbing a sweet and taking a bite. It’s sweet, overly so, filling his mouth and yet, in the next bite, it’s perfect- soft and sweet, the sweet melting in his mouth. He eats the remainder, licking his lips, taking another quick glance to the entrance of the kitchen, he reaches for another. As he does so, you call his name, his body turning towards your voice and walking towards you as if he were in a trance.

Being around the Avatar of Lust should have prepared Solomon for any hints of aphrodisiacs. It wouldn’t be his time that he’s been engulfed with the sweet scent of one, nor the lingering taste that sits heavy on his tongue and makes his teeth ache with sweetness. And yet, he doesn’t notice the fogginess in his mind until he stands at your door. His mouth is filled with cotton, his chest tight with labored breathing that puffs past his lips, and he can hardly think straight. All that Solomon knows is that he wants to be near you and not in the way that he usually wants- to hold your hand and be seated by you, but in a way much more intimate that makes his face flush and skin burn. His feet drag against the floor, his eyes heavy and he can feel the pulsing of his cock, and the beating of his heart that beats in his rib cage. Your voice sounds closer, still muffled by the door, but he can hear you, he can hear your bed creak and the sound of your footsteps walking towards the door.

Solomon:

The few seconds that it takes you to arrive at your door are the longest that the sorcerer has ever gone through. He can hear your steps, he can feel the air shaft and his mouth is filled with drool. He wonders if his face is still flushed, blood pooling in his cheeks or he’s finally returned to a normal color. Despite the twisting in his stomach and the familiar pang of want, Solomon greets you at your door, smiling cheerfully and teasing at how fast you came rushing to the door. He’s quick to rush to your bed, sitting cross legged and trying to ignore the wave of pleasure that sends a chill down his spine. He lets out a shaky breath, masking it as a breathless laugh when you give him an odd look. He only shakes his head and asks for you to sit beside him, patting the bed as he smiles. He knows what courses through his veins, he’s felt this effect multiple times in his life, and while he’s dealt with them before, he doesn’t want you to see him in such a vulnerable state, not when he’d be so fixated on his own pleasure that he’d deprive you of your own. He bites at the inside of his cheek and chastises himself for thinking that you’d even help him with his issue. He got himself into this mess, and he won’t drag you into it.

He can’t stand the look in your eyes- the confusion mixed with concern as your brows furrow and your lips pout. Yet, he continues to smile, asking for you to join him on the bed, color returning to his face when his mind wanders at the sound of his sentence. You walk quickly to him and he looks down, staring at the floorboards and gulping the salvia that has pooled in his mouth. His name is called and the sweet sound of it leaving your lips makes his heart ache- a soft whisper, his name cooed and your hands resting over his shoulders. He hums in response, keeping his head down. Your hands are soft compared to his, calluses that have formed over the ages while yours remain soft, a gentle touch that has long been forgotten. He peers upwards, letting his chin rest against your palm and the look you give him makes his lungs deflate, his heart pounding reactivity against his chest and face going red once more. You ask him if he’s all right, and he wishes that he could say yes. He wishes that he could remember the spell it was to wash away the effects of the aphrodisiac. All he wanted to do was spend the day with you. He is unable to lie to you, chuckling nervously with his hand scratching at the back of his head.

It’s much easier to stare at your closet as he explains. After all, it sounds so silly to tell you that he had eaten something that he was warned to not have eaten. He tells you how he had consumed something, an aphrodisiac that makes him unable to think properly. He’s lucky enough that he can explain it but even so, the ache in his stomach won’t lessen, his chest deflates, his voice going hoarse as he apologizes to you. He really had meant to spend the day with you, but now, he sits on your bed, defiling the very place you rest, with himself. Your hand falls from his face and for that short second where you aren’t touching him, makes his heart drop. But then, you cup his face and sit on his lap and it’s enough for his mind to spiral, his hands catching himself as he leans backwards,a heavy flush crossing over his nose and filling his face. Your hands cup his face and he can only stare at you with his mouth parted, his eyes glancing to your lips that smile at him. The aphrodisiac hits him hard when you touch him, his cock throbbing and pressing against the side of our thigh. He doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or if he’s allowed to lean into your touch. His body is on fire, his eyes widening and your lips ghost over his. You call his name and he nods his head, whispering a feeble plea for you to kiss him.

The kiss is soft, a gentle press against his lips but he wants more. He needs more. He feels as if he’s about to die if he doesn’t get more. He whines against your lips, grasping onto your shirt with shaky hands and pulling you closer to him, shifting to let the tent in his pants rub against your thigh. The tight friction makes him deepen the kiss, his tongue running over your bottom lip as his hands twist your shirt in his hands. He’s flustered, whining and breaking the kiss to whisper who he needs more, how he’s aching for your touch. Your hand rests over his thigh, his muscles twitching in response to you being there, to you even touching him. Slowly, you move upwards, every inch leaving him shaking. Finally, your hands reach over his cock, cupping the tent and palming it gently. He moans into your mouth, pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily as you undo his zipper, and pull away at his briefs, letting his cock spring free, an opaque white dotting at his cock and slipping down his head.

Every feeling in his body is intensified, the blood that rushes throughout his body, the way that his saliva is heavy on his tongue, the vein on his cock that sends a pins and needles throughout his body when you rub your thumb over it- he’s breathing heavily, his hands loosening around you, only to tighten and grip at your shirt, pulling you close and telling you to continue, begging for more. His cock throbs in your hand, creamy discharge spilling over and staining himself. He lets out a moan, broken and rippled with gasps as he begs for you to continue, his cock still so sensitive and spurting out his seed. You continue on, leaving him with tears racing down his face, his voice cracking as he speaks, his cock still erect with your hand over it. You slowly lead him down, letting him lay above you, your legs spread and the shorts that you wear riding up, revealing your plump thighs. Solomon is above you, his lips pressing against yours, lining his cock between your thighs as he humps you, holding you close with tears in his eyes as he thanks you, letting his semen taint your covers.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Could you please do 🩸with Barbatos and MC

"What kind of blood will you bleed?" - Barbatos/MC

content warnings: blood (lol), gore/violence, suggestive

Since first arriving in the Devildom, there is one thing that has been made very clear -- you are living in a world far different from your own. You have noticed how at times you have two shadows instead of one, how the moon would glow brilliantly though there was no sun to give it its light, how whispers seemed to fill the air although there was no one there. Even when in the middle of the bustling capital city, something always seems to be … off.

The Demon Lord’s castle is no different -- painted eyes always watching you, flickers of light that cast silhouettes that shouldn’t be there, slight rumbles as if the very walls were alive -- and the ones that made up the underground labyrinth very much were. Even tonight, as you attend another one of Diavolo’s many grand parties, you know that you must always stay close to one of those you trust.

So how did things end up like this?

Your memory is hazy, unsure of what steps led you now to be in a dark corridor with sharp teeth ready at your throat, prepared to eat whatever scream you could let out before it leaves your lips. Abruptly, the heat at your neck is gone and replaced with empty cold air, and a voice you know well brings a calm to all of your senses.

“Well, well, Karelesa, to think you would pull such a trick under His Highness’ very nose.”

Your sight refocuses, and you see that Barbatos has tightly wound his tail around the body of the demon who had sought to make you her prey. He thrusts the demon against the opposing wall, and a sharp knife seems to appear from his sleeve with a flourish as if he was performing a human magic trick.

“I wonder,” Barbatos wears a sadistic smile, blade pressed against the lesser demon’s flesh. “What kind of blood will you bleed, hm?”

“I know deep down you desire to devour humans as well, Lord Barbatos.” Karelesa spits out, trying to mask her utter fear. “Wh-why don’t you ask that of the human?”

“Oh, I know what they bleed.” Barbatos’ eyes flicker to you, and something in his gaze causes warmth to spread through your very core. “Humans only bleed one color, one type, after all. You, however, are far more interesting of a specimen.” A gloved hand goes to cover her mouth to muffle her screams, his other hand skillfully slicing through her skin and peeling it from her bones. “Ah, a wonderfully vibrant and viscous chartreuse. A beautiful color, one fitting to paint the walls with.”

He makes quick work of Karelesa -- horrifyingly quick, you think. Two ghostly attendants appear out of thin air, carting off what is left of her down into the depths of the dark passage and out of sight. Slowly, Barbatos turns to you as he wipes the knife clean on a handkerchief.

“Are you alright, my dear? I’m terribly sorry you had to deal with that, and … to witness such a gruesome act.”

“It’s okay,” You quickly assure him, forcing your legs to move to approach him. You’re safe now, and yet you find your heart still beating quickly. “Thank you, Barbatos.” A pause, and you attempt to lighten the mood, “You really are skilled with a knife.”

“Oh?” There is amusement in his dark eyes. Suddenly, you feel the cool of metal on your cheek, carefully placed so that it does not cut skin as gloved fingers firmly grip your jaw, thumb pressed against your lower lip. “I can show you just how skilled I am, if you’d like.”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

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