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rafeyscurtainbangs · 3 months ago

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Sorry, Top… Again - Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 Minor

CollegeStudent!Rafe x Topper'sGF!Reader

⭐️ NEW DROP ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

2k - lightly edited

🪄 warnings: cheating, name-calling, degradation, fingering, cum tasting, male masturbation, female masturbation, teasing, unprotected sex, hair pulling, rough sex, spanking, creampie, ownership kink.

Based off of this ask. Also, thank you for this ask as well, nonnie! 🌺

Part 1

📖 Topper's GF (reader) can't stop thinking about Rafe and the feeling is mutual. When Topper tells Rafe that he's finally going to take your relationship farther than kissing, Rafe knows he has to ruin you first.

✨"Mmm… Mhmm – Where did Topper’s perfect little girlfriend go? Huh? I know she's in there somewhere?" He mocks. “Aren’t you gonna tell me to stop?” He mumbles as his hands trace up your inner thigh. “Aren’t you gonna tell me you don’t want this?”✨

Readers POV:

“Fuck, you are a pussy, Top. Take another,” Rafe smirks, his lust-filled eyes trailing down to yours.

“M’Done. I - I… Damn,” Topper stutters and laughs, waving the blonde off.

“Bitch,” Rafe clips, giving you a little wink before downing his second or third of the night, perfectly sober as he continues to feed your boyfriend alcohol.

“M’gonna black the fuck out before we even get back from the barrr,” Topper draws out the word as he lifts the tequila shot to his lips, swallowing fast.

“Rafe…” You caution him, but he looks down at you and scoffs, rolling his eyes away.

“Your boy can hang,” Rafe teases, punching Topper playfully, still rough enough to make him stumble back. “Right, buddy?” He asks your shit-faced boyfriend who answers with a hiccup.

“M’sorry, baby,” Topper slurs as he turns into your neck, mumbling against your skin, his hot, thick breath reeking of booze. Tonight was the night the two of you were going to go farther than kissing. Poor Topper. The man is utterly ignorant to the reality of the situation, his best friend and roommate, all but clearing all the bases more times than your guilty conscience would like to admit.

The twinkle in Rafe’s eyes and the satisfied smile on his lips tells you that his plan is falling into place. Topper must have said something. There’s no way Rafe’s gonna let him do more than kiss you unless he ruins you first. To Top, you were his sweet, innocent girlfriend, as pure as the freshly fallen snow, so far from the truth.

Rafe always left you wanting more, pushing it further each time. Last night was the farthest you had ever gone, Rafe getting the both of you off just sliding through your slick folds alone, pressing his fat tip in your drooling hole enough to fill you with his sticky load.

I can't stop thinking about it. The feeling, the pleasure, the way my body pulled him in, and I know he felt the same way. The moan that left his lips was deep, guttural, thirsty for more. His eyes rolled back in his skull, goosebumps flaring across his toned, tanned skin. We both wanted to finish what we started.

The PornHub intro plays softly, barely heard over the whooshing of the ceiling fan and Topper’s obnoxious snoring. Rafe lets out a deep, drawn-out moan, letting his head fall back on the cool brick wall as he continues to stroke his thick dick.

“Fuckkk,” Rafe grunts, his husky voice, and deep moans filling the room, as well as the sounds of his fist slopping wetly through lube as he rubs it out. Rafe’s head rolls to the side, catching you staring, making your head snap to the ceiling. He laughs breathily as you watch him out of the corner of your eye, shaking his head in faux disappointment for you being such a slut for him, as he loves to say. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave those words from him too. Your hand slips down your body, pushing past the elastic band of your silky pajama shorts, trying to mimic how he moves when his hands are on you.

“So…” Rafe breaks the silence, the depth of his voice making you throb, knees drawing in with want. “Top’s gonna finally do it. Huh? Gonna have to share that greedy little hole with him? Maybe you’ll finally be satisfied? Won’t be fingering yourself right next to your boyfriend just dreamin’ about my dick,” Rafe chuckles cruelly. You stop your movements, looking over at him with innocent eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper as you slide your panties back in place, feeling the chill of the arousal-soaked lace.

“Your panties are wet. Huh?” He asks. You shake your head ‘no’, your eyes unable to look away as he continues to fist his dick. “Now, princess…” He chides condescendingly. “I’ve had that whore pussy enough to know that isn’t true. Just say the word. I’ll let you choke on my dick just like you like, I’ll play with your pussy like only I can, and then I’ll fuck you in front of your boyfriend; stuff those filthy little panties in your mouth so you won't make a sound.” You breathe deeply, letting out a frustrated breath, making Topper stir on the bed. Rafe releases a teasing gasp. “Uh oh, baby. You better get off that high horse of yours before your saint of a boyfriend wakes up-”

"Shut up, Rafe."

Rafe lifts his hands, surrendering to your wishes. "Whatever you say, angel," he bullies, his thick cock standing straight.

“You’re an asshole-”

“Yeah? No shit.”

“Goodnight.” You close your eyes, accepting defeat almost instantly, opening them once more.

You lick your bottom lip, watching the way the lube sheens his hard skin, imagining him filling you up. Would you be able to take it all? Rafe's large ringed hand wraps around the base, making a show of it. "You know... I saw you pass him those two shots, princess."

"I didn't know he was drunk-"

"Bull... mmpfh," he moans, his ab muscles flexing, his words getting caught on his lips as he rubs his rough palm over his tip. "Bull-fuckin'-shit, princess. Now get over here and suck my fuckin' cock."

You shake your head ‘no’, turning away from Rafe toward your boyfriend, snuggling into the covers, trying to concentrate on Topper's shallow breaths, the delicate features of his sleeping face, and the way that even when he's asleep, he finds a way to be close as the tips of his fingers skim your bare thigh.

"Rafe!" You yelp as you feel your body yanked from the bed; his bare frame presses up against yours. "Stop."

"Do you really want me to stop, princess. I swear to Christ we do this every fuckin' time and every time you're lyin'. You're a bad fuckin' liar. You know that? N'if you think for a second you're not gonna be fakin' every orgasm you have with Thornton, you're deeply, deeply mistaken," he mumbles against your lips as his large fingers press against your cunt, quickly circling your clit like you wish you could. "I want you so bad. Been thinkin' about it since last night. I can't get you out of my head, and I think," he snickers as he lifts his dripping fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. "The feelin' is mutual. So... I'm only gonna ask you this one more time. Are you lyin'?" He asks as he cups his cheeks in your hands, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

"What am I to you?" You ask gently, your voice shaky with need.

"You're somethin' else. You know that?" He laughs.

"What am I to you?" You ask with a little more conviction, Rafe responding with a deep groan and a devilish smile.

"You're a slut. That's all you are to me. My filthy fuckin' slut who lets me use you in front of your boyfriend. My pretty little cock sleeve," he whirrs, brushing his lips against yours as you melt at his words. You loop your fingers around your shorts and panties, pulling them to the floor. "Atta girl." Rafe lifts you into his arms before taking a seat on the bed next to Topper. You look down at your boyfriend and back at Rafe. “His bed or mine, baby,” he sneers as he unfastens the buttons of your shirt, already knowing what you desire. “Tell me.”

“Right here,” you breathe as he pulls your shirt off your body, flinging it to the side, the two of you watching as it lands on Top. His hands drift up your body, threading into your hair, making you shut your eyes. “Fuck,” you whimper as he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back, making your back arch before his lips meet your neck, kissing your hot skin. Rafe sinks his teeth into you, making tears prick in your eyes as you try your best to stay quiet.

“Tough girl,” he murmurs, gliding his tongue along the bite marks. His hands move down your body, tracing the sway of your spine. You bang your fists against his chest, gritting your teeth to hold back your cries as he slaps your ass, your eyes quickly flashing to Topper.

“Do you wanna get us caught, Rafe? Stop,” you whimper.

He gives you a challenging smile, doing it again; tears of pleasure and pain slip down your cheeks. “I haven’t decided what I want. Maybe I’ll keep this pretty pussy all for myself. What would he think if he knew what a dirty whore you really are? You got him fooled, princess. Good thing I fuckin’ love it,” he smiles as he snags your wrists off his chest, overpowering you before slamming you against the mattress. Topper’s limp body bounces slightly, blissfully unaware, letting out a yawn.

“Can’t believe you like this shit,” Rafe teases, catching the high you're getting from it. "Tell me."

"I fucking love it, Rafe," you blurt, "I love it. Please, just don't stop." "Mmm… Mhmm – Where did Top’s perfect little girlfriend go? Huh? I know she's in there somewhere?" He mocks. “Aren’t you gonna tell me to stop?” He mumbles as his hands trace up your inner thigh. “Aren’t you gonna tell me you don’t want this?”

You quickly shake your head ‘no’, pushing your last shred of dignity aside as his lips kiss down your chest, tongue flicking across your nipple as he pinches and twists the other side, making you buck your hips into him for more.

"Fuck my pussy, Rafe. Please," you pant.

"Begging for my cock… So… Fucking…. Needy…” He digs as he grips your hips, giving you a few experimental thrusts. You look down, watching as his cock rests against your lower stomach, eyes rolling back as you see just how deep he’ll go.

"You know, angel. My cock's bigger than his…” Rafe smirks as his fingers meet your heat, trailing slowly through your glistening cunt, teasing your entrance. “I’m gonna ruin you for him, baby,” he sighs as he pushes his fingers deep. Rafe’s cock is aching at this point, precum leaking from the tip as he watches you plead for your pleasure underneath him. He can feel how soaked you are when his head meets your warmth, teasing not only you but himself as he presses the tip in.

A deep growl leaves his chest as he thrusts deeply, robbing you of your breath. You clamp your hands over your mouth to cover your cry with one hand, your nails digging into his muscular shoulder blades with the other. "Fuck. You're so tight, y/n," he moans lowly. You can feel him stretching you out as he pounds you into the bed, the mattress responding with creaks and squeaks. Rafe glides his dick in and out, over and over again. Your moaning and panting mixes with his.

Rafe slips his hands under your neck, propping your head up so you can watch. "Fuck, princess. Such a good fucking girl. Look at you taking me so well," he burns, his forehead pressed against yours. You watch his thick cock plunge deep, a familiar heat building inside you. You close your walls around him, squeezing him harder. His lip tucks between his teeth, brows knitting tightly. "This pussy. Fuckkk,” he groans as he grabs your leg, hooking it over his massive shoulder, somehow driving even deeper. His lips crash into yours, messy kisses between gasping breaths.

"I'm going to cum, Rafe," you weep.

"No, you're not," he scoffs as he swings his hips a little more; body clapping against your clit.

"Rafe, please let me cum," you beg.

"What was that? You're not going to cum. Are you, baby?" He pouts mockingly, punctuating every word with a rough thrust. “Can’t believe you're tappin’ out already?” You slam your eyes shut, trying your best to fight back your climax. Rafe flips you to your stomach, raising you to your knees; you scramble to grab the sheets as he stuffs himself back in, gripping your ass tightly.

He hits a new angle, tip prodding your g-spot; heat rippling across your skin. His hand comes down against your ass again, the cracking of skin blending with the clapping of his thighs against your own. You drop to your elbows, burying your face in Topper’s pillow. Rafe hand comes down, grabbing your hair again, pulling you back, using the other hand to cram your wet panties in your mouth. "Cum.” Your jaw falls slack as Rafe fucks deep, flooding you with his climax, his fingers dig into your ass as you cum on his cock.

Rafe keeps his grip on your hair and ass, pulling you up on your knees and letting your back rest against his chest, the two of you coming down from your highs. His heart bangs against you as he nuzzles into your neck, pressing wet kisses against your dewy skin . You whimper around your panties, turning your cheek into him as he lowers his hand, circling your clit nice and slow.

“I know your Top’s girl, princess, but this pussy is mine. You understand?” He asks as he pulls the lace from your mouth.

“I understand.”

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the-californicationist · 6 months ago

Note

Hello Cali ❤️. Por alguna razón no te había visto más en mi muro de tumblr y me preguntaba si no estabas aquí, por eso busqué tu perfil y me di cuenta que tumblr me estaba jugando una mala pasada.

How are you??? I'm so busy because I have a loooot of work, pero me tomaré el tiempo de leer todo lo que me perdí de ti ✨✨✨

YOU ARE THE BEST, OK? I LOVE YOU ❤️💍

Quisiera que escribieras un smut de John Price CEO/Mafia con un Reader inteligente y astuto, que queda cautivado cuando John comienza a seducirla, porfis ✨

Anything for you, my friend!! I love you so much <3 <3

Wonderland

John Price is a famous mob boss... but you don't know that. All you know is that you've got a crush on a mysterious, handsome man, and you're willing to go all the way to find out if his bite is as bad as his bark.

The parking garage was dark, and the concrete seemed to hold in the cold like a freezer. It felt like ice on his cheekbone, and not even the blood from his eye socket was enough to warm the skin. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, that odd whooshing sound, and in a distant memory he could recall the first time he had ever gotten a black eye. But, all that was gone now. He had ratted out the one man that no one had dared fuck with in the past five years: John Fucking Price.

Those fucking coppers had said they’d protect him. He even had his people outside his house every hour of every day. How could this happen? He had to admit, he wasn’t even scared, he was just pissed off. Fucking bastards. They’d get what was coming to them. Maybe he’d tell them so. Not like they'd give him any more chances.

“Fuck you, Price. I hope those pigs skin you alive,” he spit out the blood that had began to pool in his mouth, and hoped it hit those stupid boots John was always wearing.

John Price slid his shoe away from the red stain that had began to swell on the ground, keeping his kangaroo leather Berlutis from ruin. The fool beneath his feet had no idea what was about to happen to him, and John almost felt sorry about it, if only for a moment. He and Vinson had been friends once. Hell, he’d even stood up at his wedding.

“Vince, what did I tell you about that bloody mouth of yours? Said it'd get you into trouble, didn't I? Wish there was something I could do for you now, cause you and me, we used to be mates. But, I can't afford friends like you. Not anymore," Price gave the rat a quick shove with his heel and watched as the stain smeared in a thin streak across the cement. He turned to his men,

"Well, lads, I've got a party to get to. You wouldn't mind cleaning things up here for me, would’ya?"

"No, boss," was their quiet reply.

"You'll be sorry, you goddamn pussy!" Vinson was screaming now, "I hope they hang you from the fuckin’-”

Bang! The loud gunshot echoed through the hollow space.

Vinson didn't say anything after that.

"Let's get outta here, Gaz."

"Right away, boss," Gaz opened the door to the limo and prepared to drive John back into the city. There was a big gala at the Genting Casino tonight, and Mr. John T. Price was never late.

He was never early either. In fact, he was perfection incarnate. When he was younger, that wasn't always the case, but after his father died, he had needed to change. No one was fit to rule Liverpool in his stead, and he was thankful that no one had been foolish enough to try. His father had made this town what it is. Liverpool was built by his family, and even though everyone thought the Price regime had grown tired of their reign on the old docks, they couldn't have been farther from the truth.

John had his cut from all of the major casinos, and he traded security in exchange. He owned two of them himself, along with four shopping malls, five bars, three neighborhoods, two apartment complexes, and a golf course - not to mention the property that wasn't in his name. He made sure to give his men plenty of reign over their own enterprises, even if most of them were strip clubs. But, he didn't care. As long as tribute came in every quarter, he never messed around in their business.

He thought Vinson was one he could trust. He'd even given him a car dealership just last month.

"Don't run it into the ground, Vince," he had said.

But, no. What had the little bastard gone and done? Put a tracker on his car and dropped bugs in his office. After everything he'd done for him, that's how he was repaid? To tell the truth, John never liked violence. It was awkward. But, his father had given him fists and showed him how to use them, so there was really no going against it. Violence and fear were vital pieces of the only language that men like Vince could understand. Now, with another family coming to Liverpool, John had to be on his best behavior. Even if 'best' was a little more loosely defined.

As he lit the tip of his last cigar, he reminded Gaz to grab him another few sticks on the way home. Gaz would've never turned coat on him like Vince did. He'd give him the car lot.

"You want the dealership on Sefton street, Kyle?" He offered.

"Sure, boss. Thanks a lot," Gaz smiled, knowing exactly which business he was talking about, "You want me to pull around back?"

They had arrived at the main entrance. Throngs of people were craning around the limo, trying to see who was inside. John thought about it for a second, smushed his cigar tip into the ashtray, and adjusted his tie.

"Nah," he said, "We'll give them the show tonight."

"Sure thing, boss."

Gaz parked the car and leapt out of the cab. His hand was on the door before John could take another breath, and on either side of the door, some of Price’s own foot soldiers took up their posts as bodyguards. When he emerged from the muffled quiet of the limo, it shocked John for a moment to be in such a whirl of chaos.

"Mr. Price, can I get a photo?"

"Over here, please, Mr. Price," a cute reporter was frantic enough to step in front of his men. They picked her up and put her back in the crowd.

John made sure to smile and wave, shake hands with those he had seen before, but he knew it was safer inside.

The manager greeted him warmly and, he noted, by first name,

"John! Good to see you again, mate. We've got just the table for you, tonight. Wait til you see the legs on these girls! It'll be a night to remember."

"I'm sure it will."

"Ah, sorry, but we don't allow weapons past the main floor," the manager's face fell. So did Kyle’s.

Gaz cleared his throat,

"I'm sure you can make an exception for Mr. Price. We'll be very discreet."

It was more of a threat than a promise, and John smiled at his friend's heavy tone. Kyle was anything if not polite.

"Uh, yes, we can certainly make arrangements. Right this way, gentlemen," and now the manager was nothing if not nervous. Perfect.

The night continued as well as it could, but he had never really enjoyed gambling. Why make all this money if he was just going to throw it into the wind? But, he could mingle with the right people here. Except that these weren't his people. He had come as a favor to his long time friend, Alex Keller, but Alex was nowhere to be found.

"Passed out on his missus’ tits, probably!" One of the strangers guffawed at the other end of the Blackjack table.

"He’ll show, don't you worry," another replied.

Well, John didn't have all night to wait on a man to get to his own party. He needed a drink. When he rose to head to the bar, Gaz stopped him,

"I'll get it, boss. No need to bother yourself with it."

The table was silent. The strangers who had been so brassy before were now silent and transfixed on the pair of men at their table, one of whom was important enough to have his slightest whim catered to at a moment's notice.

"It's alright, Garrick. Play my hand, yeah? I'm headed out for a smoke."

"Yes, sir."

John retreated. The awkward stares and weird glances were too much for him to bear. Surely there was a patio around here, somewhere.

By the time he found one, he was disappointed to see it was occupied.

"Oh, beg your pardon. Thought I was alone out here," he said.

To his shock, it was a woman's voice that responded from the shadows. Your voice.

"You're fine. You got a light? Fuckin’ matches are all wet..." You fumbled with the book, striking to no avail.

He smirked,

"I have the fire if you've got an extra smoke."

"Fair trade," you smiled back jokingly.

You were dressed in a clean chef's coat, your hair was pulled up, and you might have been going without makeup, but it was almost too dark to tell. It certainly wasn't casino makeup, that was for sure. John watched as you tugged two cigarettes free from the box, put them to your soft lips, and covered his flame with your hand. Your fingernail paint was pink and chipped. You pulled in the fire of both cigarettes and offered one to him. He took it,

"Thanks."

You grunted in a minimal response.

"So, you're a chef?" He asked.

You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him the glare he deserved for such an obvious question.

He back pedaled,

"I mean, you work here as a chef. I just thought, with the coat...I mean, where's your big bloody hat? You need the hat."

You laughed. It was wonderful to hear, and he liked the way your mouth moved when you started to speak,

"Yeah, I work here. Have for the past three years or so. Bill signed me on as head chef, and I've been slaving away for him ever since."

"Bill?"

"Oh, he's the culinary manager. Runs all the restaurants in the casino and the hotel. When the last guy disappeared into thin air, they had to scramble to find someone, I guess. What about you? Where's your fancy hat? Based on that Hermes tie, I'm gonna assume you're here with the party."

He mindlessly adjusted his tie, noticing its feel on his neck as she called it out,

"Well, I might be."

"Yeah? You some kind of big-shot?" You eyed him again, challenging him to answer with something more than a yes or a no. You had heard yes and no plenty of times.

"I might be," he wouldn't give in.

"If we keep going like this all night, you might end up being the Queen, for all I know."

You both laughed, but then, you sighed,

"Oh well, Mr. Mystery. Keep your secrets then," you shrugged and turned away from him.

He couldn't have that.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Sarah," you spun back around, "Rachel. Tiffany. Willamina. Might be anything."

You had the audacity to wink at him.

"Alright, you got me, love," he moved a little closer to you, "I'm John. John Price."

He extended his hand and waited for the bad news to sink in. No one who knew his name in this town would be dumb enough to be on a patio alone with him at night. He had dodged the media for a long time, but his trials always managed to get leaked. Twelve accounts of assault and battery, two separate accounts of theft, three murder charges - all acquitted of course. But, still, he was no stranger to ducking the law.

"John? Of all the names," you shook your head and smiled, taking his hand firmly, "Pleasure to meet you."

"You as well. You've never heard of me?"

"Oh, Jesus," you lamented, "Are you famous or something? Look, if I'm not in the kitchen, I'm at home asleep. Sorry. I don't even watch TV."

"No, nothing like that, I just - " He thought about it for a moment before you saw him decide to take a different trajectory, “Not famous.”

“Why is it that I feel a little bit like Alice tonight?” You took a long drag and let the smoke fall from your lips, “Like I’m following a white rabbit down a deep, dark hole.”

He chuckled, and you enjoyed seeing his eyes shine with his laughter,

“If you follow me down,” he sidled up to you, his face close enough to yours so you could smell the balsam in his aftershave, “I’ll show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

A man’s voice cleared his throat behind you, and you both turned to look at who it was.

“Garrick?” John asked, clearly annoyed.

“Yes, sir. Johnny and Simon made it up. They said they know why Keller hasn’t shown.”

John didn’t answer. He simply turned back to look into your eyes, trying to divine some sort of future from them. He must’ve liked what he saw because the next thing you knew, you were being given a golden key card. Top floor.

Not famous, my arse, you thought to yourself.

“Why don’t you take the night off, love. Come see Wonderland, yeah? I’ll be right behind you.”

“My, my,” you said, palming the card from him, “No one ever tells you no.”

Another smile, a little colder than the first,

“No, they don’t.”

“Maybe I will,” you pulled the tiger’s tail.

“You won’t,” the tiger growled back.

As you watched him leave the small patio, his broad back stretching that expensive suit, his thick fingers flicking his half-smoked cigarette off the balcony’s edge, you were kicking yourself. You knew you were going up to his room, even though something inside of you really wanted to yank this guy’s chain. But, his dark, purring voice had made Wonderland sound so inviting… maybe just one little peek wouldn’t hurt?

You waited a whole five minutes before slinking off to the service elevator, cutting out for the night. No one was making dinner anyway; it was the bar that was slammed. You’d already cleaned and prepped your station, so no one would miss you.

You ducked into the bathroom just before the top floor, getting off on the service side in an empty hallway, checking your face for stray flour or coffee stained teeth. You smelled like a pizza oven, but maybe you could sneak a shower before he showed up?.

What a slut, you heard the angel on your shoulder chastise you.

So, what? The devil’s side replied, indignant.

You peeled the chef’s coat off of your body. All you had underneath was a black tee. It was cropped a bit too high for work, but you wore it anyway. Your black work pants were covered in flour and dried food. You brushed them off as best you could. It would have to do. You shoved your coat into your bag and headed back to the hallway.

Luckily, the main elevator was vacant, as was the hallway, so you wouldn’t run into any other guests on your way to Wonderland.

The angel rolled his eyes. The devil glared at him.

The elevator dinged, and you inserted the gold card, clicking the very topmost button to the penthouse.

You’d been up here before. Sometimes, you picked up cleaning shifts on your off days for the extra cash, so you knew the layout. But, that had been in the cold, hygienic light of day. At night, this floor was a sparkling vision. When the elevator doors opened, huge clear windows reached all the way into the ceiling, framing Liverpool’s city center, looking more beautiful than it ever seemed from the ground.

You took quiet, uncertain steps out of the lift, checking for any signs of life. There were none, so you made your way to the bathroom. Huge black marble monolith slabs were carved in a semicircle, a nautilus that curled around the four separate shower heads, all ready to pour their steaming water down your naked body.

You stripped, stepping into the stream, letting yourself pretend that you lived in this sort of luxury for a moment. A soft lather of soap and a little shampoo later and you were clean. The single-use toothbrush and paste was in the hidden drawer that no guest would ever notice, so you stole an extra set, scrubbing yourself to a minty shine.

A pair of black satin robes hung in the closet, so you stole one, tying it around your waist, fully aware that one stiff breeze and the loose-fitting garment would fly right off of you. The soft fabric lay against your skin in the most sensual way, barely touching you and yet making you feel touched.

You explored the hotel room a bit, avoiding Mr. Price’s suitcase like it would bite you. The kitchen came stocked with ice buckets of champagne, so you helped yourself to one, pouring a glass and lounging by the window, wondering how long you’d have to wait for your date.

Fortunately for you, only an hour had passed and you heard the elevator ding. Out from the dark lift came the man himself… bleeding from his lip.

“John! What happened?” You put down your wine and rushed over to him.

He held you back, waving you off like it was nothing,

“Don’t worry, love. Just a bit of a scuffle, tha’s all.”

“But —”

“Seriously,” he grabbed you by your arms and looked you up and down, enjoying the wide opening of the robe as it revealed your body to him, “You should see the other bloke. Let me get cleaned up. Pour me one of those, would’ya?”

Before you could protest, he ducked into the bathroom, out of your reach. You were left standing there, worried and a little concerned for your own wellbeing. You didn’t actually know this man at all, and here you were, lamb to the slaughter, eager and bleating happily.

While he was in the bath, you decided to do a little research. You searched up his name, and you were finding almost no hits, until you stumbled upon a mugshot.

There he was… the notorious mob boss, ruler of the English underground arms dealing circuit, enforcer and racketeering extraordinaire. And here you were, nearly naked in his room with not so much as a penknife within reach. This guy had been in the armed forces, special forces, black ops — the works. He retired and fell into the armed security world, making a name for himself by pushing out the competition by any means necessary. His father had maintained ties to the dark underground, and now John had taken over the family business, doing shady deals for the government and crime organizations alike. All of it was hearsay, of course, and none of the charges had ever landed a single hit… but you knew the truth.

John Price was the most dangerous man in the world; Liverpool’s crime arena was just a quiet little hobby for a man like him. If he wanted to, he could make you disappear like a magician behind a mirror. Gone without a trace.

What would you do? Would you run? Where would you go? How would you explain your sudden exit? Food poisoning?

Before you could even begin to formulate a plan, John was out of the shower. He looked incredible. His hulking, heavy form was steaming from the hot water, and his hairy chest was uncovered. He’d slipped into a pair of running shorts and nothing else, so his brutal body was on display for you. He was covered in scars, and he was heavyset, but his largeness was from his strength. His core was bulky and strong, and when he moved, you could see the tight muscles rolling around beneath the skin like a snake ready to strike.

He turned to you, but even though he wore a smile at first, the moment he made eye contact, his face fell. Somehow, he knew that you knew.

He sighed,

“What did you see?”

He rushed over to his suitcase but found it still locked, looking back to you quizzically. You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. John stepped over to you slowly, deliberately, almost as if he was ready for another fight.

You turned your phone towards him and showed him his own mugshot.

“Thought you said you weren’t famous,” you whispered. Your voice sounded so small and far away, you almost felt like you hadn’t spoken the words.

He smiled bitterly, tossing his towel on a nearby chair and sat beside you on the bed,

“Cat’s out of the bag, then?”

“Yeah,” you looked down at your phone, unable to look him in the eye.

“Go on,” he waved his hand at you, motioning toward the door, “Get out.”

You didn’t move. You should have. Every fiber in your being was telling you to make a break for it. Now was your chance. And yet… you stayed. It was silent for a long while. You could feel his gaze raking over you, hot and heavy. His breaths rumbled in his chest.

“Go!” He spat, “No one’s keeping you prisoner here, girl. That’s me, alright, and the newspapers don’t even know the bloody half of it. Just go.”

You reacted to his volume, shirking back a bit, but you still didn’t stand. You looked at him then, searching for the kindness you thought you saw on the patio just hours before, checking to see if it was still there, if it was even real.

When you met his eyes, his fury was masking a very real pain. He was angry, sure, but the ache of being cast out was apparent, even though you were the one doing the leaving, and you just wanted that bit of brightness back again.

John studied you, watching your every movement, trying to determine what you were thinking but coming up short. He stood right in front of you, his hips inches from your face, and he asked,

“What are you waitin’ on, love?”

A strong thumb lifted your chin, raising your jaw up to look at him again, and he used his enormous hand to grab your face, keeping you there under his will.

“I know you’re afraid of me,” he commented softly, “I can feel it.”

“So?” You replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

His voice was bitter and mocking, and as he leaned forward, you could smell his clean, warm skin,

“You wanna play with the big bad wolf, hm? See if I bite?”

He grabbed you a little too tightly, trying to scare you. It worked, but you tried not to show it. Instead, you decided to place both of your hands at his hips, your palms flat against his warm belly, feeling the dark hair that formed a faithful trail, guiding your eyes down to his waistband.

It was his turn to be surprised. You felt his breathing catch as you moved your hands up along his ribcage, rubbing gentle circles into his skin, petting him like a skittish hound, expecting him to snap.

Letting go of your face, he grabbed your wrist, and just as you thought he was going to stop you, he took your hand and placed it on his chest, stretching your arm all the way up from where you were sat, making you extend your spine as you reached up to him. Your fingers traced the fur that lay flat against his pectorals, and finally, you plucked at his nipples, not allowing there to be any question as to your intentions.

The tip of his wide finger dipped into the silken collar of your robe, swirling around your neck and following it down to the swell of your breast. He didn’t find your peak, but he didn’t seem to care to. He was just exploring.

Suddenly, John moved faster than you could even begin to understand what was happening. He had reached under you, lifting you, and then tossed you back down on the bed. You lay, sprawled, trying to catch your bearings, and then you were covered by his huge form, his wide body casting shadows over your vision, cloaking you in his own private darkness.

His mouth was on you like a hot flame, licking and burning and biting and sucking wherever he wanted to, eager to taste every inch of your skin, the imperfections of a wrinkle or a freckle seemed to go fully unnoticed as he devoured you, sucking you down like his last meal.

You were overwhelmed by the pleasure he was stoking inside of you, and you let a small mewling sound escape from your lips that caught his attention.

“Mm,” he climbed up your body so that you were face to face, “Enjoying your walk on the dark side, love? Think you’re tainted by me now? Or maybe that’s what you wanted, is it? Something naughty, just for a night?”

You didn’t understand his negativity, nor the self-deprecation, so you tried to protest,

“No, I —”

“It’s alright. I’ll show you how to be a bad girl. I’ll teach you, love. C’mere.”

His voice was smoldering and sticky, clinging to your ears with some of that same bitterness from before. But, you didn’t have time to worry about that. He was standing by the bedside again, and he grabbed your arms, making your head and shoulders hang part way off of the mattress. You were left staring at his thick thighs and scarred knees, worried about what he was up to.

Then, all became clear. He had dropped his running shorts, and the fattest cock you’d ever seen hung down, shining with drool, ready to be fed into your mouth.

Your eyes went wide, and although you reached your hand out to try and brace against his legs, it was no use. He supported your head from underneath and bent himself over until the tip of his swollen cockhead touched your lips, the gleaming precome sticking to you like gloss.

Unwilling to be frightened by his aggression, you opened your mouth for him, laving your tongue across his turgid flesh, allowing him to press himself inside of you.

His cock was slick on the head but dry on his shaft, so you did your best to wet him, licking and sucking as he pumped himself in and out, already nearing the back of your throat and not even halfway sheathed.

When he nudged your soft palate, making you gag a bit, you made a noise. You tried steadying him with your hand, and he grunted, grabbing both of your arms by the wrist, holding them above your face, clutched to his hip. Then, he continued to fuck your face, ignoring your writhing gasps for breath.

Your throat tightened around him, but you tried to stay calm. You’d never taken anyone this deep before, but you stilled yourself, ignoring the urge to panic, and you made a point to swallow, feeling your throat squeeze around his head. You could taste him as he painted the back of your throat, salty and sweet at the same time.

That made him moan, and you felt like you’d won some sort of battle. If he was trying to frighten you, it was going to take more than just a little rough sex.

“Mm, fuck… Maybe you are a naughty little girl, aye?”

You hummed, making sure you could feel the vibrations travel through his girth.

He removed himself fully, taking a trail of your own drool with him, gasping from the pleasure of your mouth.

“Fuck, I need to taste you,” he muttered darkly, crawling over you and settling himself between your legs.

You tried to lift yourself back onto the bed, but he kept you hanging there, pinning you down with his strong arm, pressing into your belly with his hand to prevent you from sitting up. Finally, after feeling him kiss and nip at your thighs, teasing you mercilessly, you felt the warm, wet slip of his tongue as it fell between your lips, tasting your throbbing pussy for the first time.

The robe was half-off, and only the tie around your waist was even providing any coverage, and you realized that as he began to eat you, he was yanking off your clothes as well, ripping through the knot of the robe to free you from the fabric.

Now, his mouth moved deeper, and you felt him seal his lips to your pussy, messily drinking you in. As he fucked you with his tongue, his mouth and jaw were strong enough to rock your body up and down on the soft bed, making it seem as if he were actually using his smooth wet muscle as a writhing cock, thrusting it up into you and reaching deep into your hole.

The scruff of his beard was enough to make you want to come, much less the power that he ate you with. Every deep, curling lick sent sparks into your core, making your pussy drip with eager stickiness. It was hungry for that fat, uncut cock, forcing you to imagine how delightful it would be when he popped his giant head into your pink flesh.

You were keening for him. Well, it wasn’t exactly for him, per se. The noises you were making were coming from your throat against your will. If you didn’t scream, you’d pass the hell out, you were sure of it.

“Fuck, that’s it, love. Get loud for me. Ungh… you taste… mmfh… so damn sweet,” he was ruthless, speaking between long suckles from his mouth, commanding you from below.

You wished you could see him, but all you could see from your hanging position was the giant window, looking out across the sparkling city. So, you called out to him, your voice thick with want, with need,

“John…”

That was all it took. He tugged your hips down until he was above you again, prowling over you like some sort of beast, all snarling unbridled lust and appetite. As soon as he was in position — and your body knew he was in position — everything stopped. He stopped.

John looked down at you and became… different. The flirty bloke from the patio was back, and he smiled at you. You smiled back, out of breath and already drunk with hunger, but that was all he needed. He kissed you deeply, making you taste your own musk, and as his soft lips slid over yours, you felt the pressure of his huge cock at your hole, pressing through your folds to reach your hot, soaked center.

You gasped through his kiss, both of you moaning in the same timbre as you felt his heavy dick fit into you for the first time, a sparkling desire swirling within you as every delicious inch of him buried itself in you. He began to thrust himself up into your aching slit, fucking you on half of his length, and then using your own sticky fluid to slip himself the rest of the way in.

“Bloody hell, this fuckin’ pussy… fuck me,” he groaned, wrenching his eyes shut from the pleasure.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” He asked, seeking your praise.

“You’re fucking huge,” you didn’t mean to sound so concerned, but there was a part of you that was.

He sat back on his heels, taking some of the pressure away, staring down at your body lecherously, savoring your tits and fondling them in his hands,

“Alright, love?”

“You feel so good,” you insisted, wrapping your hands around his arms as he enjoyed your body.

“Tell me again,” he said, grunting again as he fucked his cock deeper inside of you, reaching a new end before dragging himself all the way back out just so he could start the journey again. He upped his tempo, pounding into you with his weight, the loud smack of his body against yours beating into you like a drum.

“Tell. Me. Again,” he growled his warning, snarling down at you, pinching your nipple to punish you for your silence.

You were gasping for breath. He was so deep now, you could feel the pressure of it in your belly. Between sharp intakes of air, you hissed,

“You… feel.. so… fucking… good…”

“That’s my girl,” he bent over you again and that familiar pressure returned. His cock was too big, and yet you took it anyway. Your body was panic and pleasure all at the same time, and he had you pinned down for the ride of your life.

You weren’t sure how many hours passed that night. He seemed to have the stamina of a much younger man, and every time you dozed off, you’d wake up again to fingers or tongue or cock playing inside of your folds, coaxing you to open yourself up to him. You were happy to oblige, but you were properly fuck drunk. If someone asked you for the alphabet, you weren’t positive you trusted your answer. But, when John Price asked you to open your mouth or your legs for him, you were the top scholar.

A golden, creamy dawn was rising up over the docks as you stared out the window. John’s hand was rubbing your bare back in long, relaxing strokes, and he was leaving soft, lazy kisses down your spine. You knew you were a mess. Your hair was tangled; you’d thrown it up into a messy bun on the second runthrough, done with trying to pretend to be a pristine hot girl. Your body was covered in his marks. Bruises from his teeth and red welts from a delightful slap on the ass or two were painted across you like little tattoos to commemorate your coupling.

“You alright, love?” He checked in on you.

He’d been checking in all night. For all his ruthlessness, he never crossed a line, and he never forgot to make sure you were safe. Sometime in the wee hours, he’d even made you drink a bottle of water and eat some fruit to hydrate, teasing you with grapes like some sort of earthly Baccus.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Looks like it’s time for me to get out of your hair. Not sure I should be seen by the public in my current state.”

“You have work, or…” John looked confused.

You thought about lying to him for a moment. It would hurt so much less for you to just break it off now in the soft dawn glow rather than a painful goodbye over cold breakfast. But, you didn’t.

“No, just… don’t wanna fool myself into thinking this was something that it wasn’t.”

Your truth hung there in the air for a moment, but before he could open his mouth to reply, you heard the elevator ding.

You turned to look at it, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled you off the bed and forced you to the floor. It was so fast that you didn’t even realize what he’d done until your nose was in the carpet. Then, you heard a sharp, snapping pop of something hitting the bed.

You watched in horror as John’s hand reached under the mattress and pulled out a small pistol. He held it like a professional, calm and trained, and shot twice. Then, it was quiet again.

He helped you to your feet, and he was telling you something, but your brain wasn’t registering his words. What had happened? Why were there bullet holes in the mattress? Who had he shot?

Then, you saw it. A man’s body was laying across the door of the elevator. Wanting to descend, the elevator’s alarm wailed, beeping and beeping.

John grabbed your jaw and made you listen to him,

“We have to go. Now. Get your clothes on. Now. Now.”

“Okay…” You couldn’t move. It was so hard to even lift your arms. They felt like solid lead. You just wanted to sink back to the floor. Maybe if you could just…

“Hey! Now!”

He shoved your clothes into your hands and you started to put them on, doing your best not to look at the elevator. John was packing a black bag, half-dressed himself, and checking the windows over and over, looking for something in the streets below.

“There’s no time, c’mon, love.”

You felt his hand cover yours as he led you to the elevator. You watched him ruthlessly kick the body away from the doors and push you inside. Once you were in, the doors closed and you rode in silence with him. You could only hear your heart in your ears.

“...to my car. Stay close to me.”

“Okay…” It was all you could say. No other words even dared to come to mind.

“Hey,” he held your face in his as the floor numbers dropped to the teens, “You’re alright. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay.”

The doors opened, and you found it extremely weird that the lobby was empty. There were no workers, no guests, not even a custodian. It was just a big, silent cavern in what was usually a lively casino.

He was leading you out to the parking garage, and just as you stepped into the concrete enclave, you heard the screech of tires round the corner. John stood in front of you and gripped the gun in his hand, but he didn’t move away.

The car stopped in front of you, and you braced yourself, hiding behind your lover as much as you could.

“Get in, boss! They’re right bloody behind us. Soap, shove over,” a man’s voice came from the car. He was in the driver’s seat, and he was wearing a ballcap with the Union Jack emblazoned on the top. In his passenger seat was a man in a black balaclava, and in the back was a bright-eyed man with a mohawk who you guessed had to be Soap.

“C’mon, love,” John shoved you inside just as a black SUV rounded the same corner, the engine roaring when it saw Price’s car.

Gunshots rang out, and you knew some of them had hit the car. You worried for John, but he stood straight up, aiming carefully for the driver, and fired his gun. As if you were in some sort of action movie, the SUV careened off-course and slammed into several parked cars. Men began to pour from it, armed to the teeth.

John jumped in beside you and made you kneel in the floorboards, holding his body over yours protectively.

“How’d they find out? Gaz!” John yelled at the driver, shouting his name when he saw another SUV approaching from the side.

Gaz swerved, narrowly missing being rammed, and sped off down the highway, trying to run from his pursuers.

“No idea, mate, but they think it was us who tore up the warf. Banno’s man must’ve turned snitch. Only explanation.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” the masked man sighed, rolling down his window to fire shots at the SUV chasing you down.

“Who’s the bonnie hen, boss?” Soap peered down at you before turning his attention back on the car chase.

“Uh… she’s…” John tried to explain, but you realized that you never even told him your real name, “I dunno.”

“You dinnae ken?” Soap’s brows knitted together.

“Soap! Shut up and shoot, mate,” Gaz turned his attention back on the fight.

“Well,” the masked man grumbled loudly, “She’s stuck with us all the way to Hadrian’s Wall. Heading to Katie’s house. No place else is safe.”

“Aye, good call,” John agreed.

Finally, after leaving the city, your pursuers turned back around and left you to your escape. John helped you back into the seat and checked you for injuries.

“John… I’m…” Your voice shook with fear, and you felt all of that stress tumbling down into your chest, turning into shock and tears.

“Shh, it’s alright, love. I’ve gotcha. I’m… I’m sorry. Should’ve known better.”

“Better?” You whispered as he held you to his chest.

“Aye. Thought I could be a normal man for a night. Hit on the hot bird at the bar, go to a fuckin’ party. But, nothing’s normal right now. I’ve put you in this mess, and I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have a reply, not one that made any sense, and as he held you, you watched the English countryside come into view. Rolling green hills still wet with their dew made everything that had just happened to you seem so far away, but you could smell the gunpowder on his hands as he pet your cheek, and you knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

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queenariesofnarnia · 9 months ago

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the general and her boys

gif not mine!

wc: 2,025

fraternal poly! bad batch x f!reader (absolutely no clonecest)

warnings: 18+ content! mdni! porn with a sprinkle of plot in the beginning, nothing crazy, group sex, praise kink, use of sarge, anal, piv, unprotected, cum swallowing, oral (m receiving), handjobs, and i think that is it!

✨✨✨✨

All you asked for was a night of rest since you’re finally on shore leave. A night in your secret apartment gifted to you by Padme. Relaxing in your silk robe that matched the red in your squad’s armor, lined with black lace. You accomplished most of the self-care routine you planned for the night. Sipping on a glass of wine you picked up on Naboo, enjoying a trashy holofilm. Several knocks echoed through your apartment interrupting the climax of the film. You had a feeling this was going to happen, even though they promised you not to start a fight with the regs. You entered the code to the door, meeting five sets of eyes as it whooshed open. Standing to the side letting them in to find a seat.

“I don’t want to hear about who started it or why you got involved” you grumbled sitting back in your original spot which now has you nestled between Tech and Crosshair.

“We’re sorry general” Hunter’s gruff voice sounds over the film you went back to watching. You glance at him and nod before turning your attention back to the screen. Wrecker helped himself to whatever snacks he could find in your kitchen.

“Wrecker, were you even going to ask if helping yourself to the general’s food was okay?” Echo was the one to question the large clone.

“I don’t care at this point. That’s why I have snacks in the first place. I knew my night alone wasn’t going to last” you tell Echo without breaking your focus from the screen. Finishing your wine, you placed your glass on the table before leaning over Tech who was busy with his datapad to grab the bottle on the side table. This gave Crosshair and Hunter a view up your robe, while Echo and Wrecker had a view down your robe. Plopping back down to refill your glass the room went quiet except for the film ending.

“Why didn’t you ask me general?” Tech broke the silence amongst your squad.

“You seemed busy, so I just did what was easy” you sent him a smile before taking a sip of from your glass. Crosshair took the bottle from your hand taking a quick swig before passing it to Hunter who had his hand out towards his brother.

“Don’t worry about why she didn’t ask Tech. Let’s talk about how the pretty little general gave us a little show as she reached over you.” Crosshair informs his brother placing his gloved hand on your thigh. The action made you take a gulp of your wine.

“What’s under the robe mesh’la?” Hunter whispers in your ear causing you to jump since you didn’t notice he left his previous spot.

“Tech start recording” Wrecker chuckles at the order given by Crosshair.

“I have been recording since the moment she opened the door” Tech says a smirk reaching his face. In this moment you knew you were in for it. You jokingly flirt with the guys all the time. However, you never thought it would lead you here. Echo was now sitting with his legs crossed intrigued by what is unfolding in front of him.

“Take the robe off for us sarad” Crosshair orders you giving your thigh a squeeze. You stood after chugging down the rest of the wine for the courage you will need tonight to survive. Back facing them you untied the robe letting it glide off your shoulders hitting the floor. Your spine tattoo now exposed to them. Each of their helmets and their names written by them decorated your spine. A chorus of groans sounded in the quiet living room as they took in the sight of your tattoo and your backside.

“Turn around for us little tooka” Wrecker’s voice cracking at his own request. Their jaws dropped when you turned around. The signature skull and 99 inked above your left breast, a loth wolf started at your waist ending at your mid-thigh, a 5, a crescent, and jaig eyes decorated your left bicep.

“When did you get all these tattoos cyar’ika?” Tech’s question breaking the trance his brothers were in as they stopped looking at the tattoos that decorated your body and back to your face.

“We can discuss that later. Now is there a real reason why I’m naked?” you questioned smirking your arms crossed beneath your breasts pushing them up.

“Get in the bed and we can show you” Hunter’s voice sounding deeper than usual makes your stomach flutter and your pussy tingle. Making your way past them without a word your hips swaying as you make it down the hall into your room. In about five minutes after the boys have taken their armor and blacks off they were surrounding your giant bed. You pretended to be busy with your datapad until it was snatched from your grip by Crosshair. He tosses it on the lounge chair in the corner of your room.

“Get on all fours mesh’la” Hunter instructs you. Immediately obeying, they command you to arch your back for them. The cool air in the room hitting your back side showing off your anal plug.

“She looks so pretty” Wrecker groans palming his cock. The others agreeing each walking around you to get their own perfect view of you.

“Wrecker get in front of her. Crosshair, Tech each of you take a side, Echo get behind her and mesh’la let me get under you.” Hunter gives out instructions. You never expected this moment a pleasant tingle was sent through your body as each of them found their spots round you. You were thankful for a big enough bed, so Wrecker fit in front of you nicely. Echo removed the plug from your puckered hole slowly. The mewl it pulled from your lips made each cock twitch. You spit in each hand before wrapping one of them around Crosshair’s and the other around Tech’s length beginning to slowly pump each of them. Hunter’s skilled fingers quickly found your soaking pussy dipping to fingers in, and Wrecker tapped the head of his cock silently directing you to open your mouth. Opening your mouth wide, tongue licking the underside of his shaft before taking him in your mouth. This was Echo’s opportunity to position himself before entering your ass. Feeling him stretch you made you moan around Wrecker’s length as Hunter’s fingers found your clit, whilst mouth attached to your nipple. Hunter continued to toy with your clit which was bringing you to the edge quicker than you would hope. The sensation of his mouth attached to your nipple turned you into a moaning mess. Each of your boys whispering praises to you.

“Look how pretty you are” “Kriff, you feel good” “Just like that sarad” “You look exquisite” you took praise well. Echo’s scomp was resting on you lower back and you enjoyed the cool metallic feeling. You could feel Hunter line up with your pussy with one thrust up he was buried in you to the hilt. He and Echo took their turns thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace. Hunter’s fingers still rubbing your clit and quitting before you could finish each time, he took you there. He left his marks all over your breasts. Wrecker’s thrusts were faltering each time you moaned around him. Using the precum from Crosshair and Tech’s cocks was helpful since spitting on your hand would have been a challenge. Crosshair doing his best not to fall apart and Tech not caring that he was practically melting under your touch.

“I’m not going to last like this pretty girl” Wrecker’s sentence was broken up between each thrust. “You gonna let me cum in your mouth?” you nod your eyes glossed with tears and your moans desperate. His final thrust you felt the warmth of his seed hit the back of your throat before pulling out to finish the rest of his load on your face. Smiling at him before swallowing.

“I hope you got that Tech” Crosshair said before a string of curses leave his mouth. Tech could only nod.

“Tech come here” you gesture in front of your face and take him in your mouth. Using your now free hand to cup and squeeze his balls. You knew he wasn’t going to last long so when you pulled back you slowly grazed your teeth on the underside of his shaft, before taking him back in your mouth all at once. When you gagged on him, he couldn’t help but release in your mouth making sure each drop was in your mouth before he pulled out your mouth.

“Go ahead and smile for me cyar’ika” he instructs you his hand wrapping around your throat making you him in the eyes. You smile again showing him his cum. “You may swallow” he nods at you and pulls away. Placing a kiss on the top of your head thanking you. Crosshair took over stroking himself for you.

“I’m going to paint your face now sarad. But I’ll be in you later.” He hissed before releasing all over your face and hair. Smirking at your cum covered face he gets off the bed.

“Do you want me inside or do you want me to pull out cyare” Echo’s tone is soft yet rough as he whispers the question in your ear.

“In me please” you whimper biting into Hunter’s shoulder. He pulled out for a moment for Echo to finish. Rough fingers gently wrapping around the back of your neck pulling you in for a keldabe kiss. Echo leans down placing a kiss on your shoulder as his thrust falter, releasing in your ass. He waits a few seconds before pulling out of you slowly, putting the plug back in you until Hunter has his turn to finish. When he got off the bed, he made his way to the lounge chair in the corner. Hunter flipped you over with ease, guiding his cock back to your entrance thrusting in you at a rough pace, bending your legs back to where your knees touched your chest with one hand. With the other his thumb circled your clit.

“Go ahead and beg for it mesh’la” His sergeant voice making your walls clench around him. “You look so pretty all used by us” he whispers in your ear nibbling your earlobe as he pulls away. “I know your close mesh’la beg for it. That’s the only way I’ll cum in you.” His pace made you lose your train of thought.

“Kriff, Hunter may I please cum?” your tone is airy as you gasp between words.

“No. You can do better than that. Come on mesh’la” he pulls his thumb away right when you could feel yourself at your peak. You let out a string of curses that make Crosshair huff with laughter.

“May I please cum Sarge? Pretty please” the neediness evident in your tone. His thumb returned to your clit as you kept mumbling ‘please’ for your release.

“Go ahead” he grants. The moan you release higher than you expected as your back arches. Your pussy convulsing around his cock. Moments later he collapses on top of you, painting your walls with his cum. Placing a soft kiss on your neck rolling off of you. Once he moves Echo comes back over to gently tug the plug out to let his seed pour out your other used hole. Tech making sure he gets this part for their recording.

“You did so well for us general” Hunter compliments. You could only smile and nod. You could feel the exhaustion. Crosshair went into your fresher to get you a warm cloth to clean you up with. Wrecker went to the kitchen to get you a snack and get dressed. Tech, Hunter, and Echo went to put the bottom halves of their blacks back on before coming back to your bed. Crosshair cleaned you up before going to grab his bottoms. You’re snuggled up in between them all as they pile in your bed to cuddle. A moment you could only hope to get on camera one day.

#tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #the bad batch #clone force 99 #clone troopers #the clone wars #xreader

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aclowntiny · 1 year ago

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Ateez Taking Care of a Sick S/O

This was suggested 5EVERRRR ago by @jacobbaeluvr & I straight- up forgot about this fora bit 🥲 but this is for you babe! & me cuz I’m super sick thanks ✨recurrent illness✨ *to the tune of Vixx’s On & On* I need surgery la la la la la surgery

Hongjoong

♡ *fails to hide disgusted expression at your snot* ‘Hey love, is it alright if I throw some of these tissues on the nightstand out?’

♡ Feels your forehead with his hand, saying you feel warm & making you test your temperature just to be sure. Slides the thermometer in so gently knowing how uncomfortable they can be.

♡ He has this relaxing herbal heat pillow that he warms up for you- it’s good for muscle aches, chills, or even just plain aromatherapy. You’re skeptical but he hands it to you & you’re immediately in heaven!

♡ Pulls you in close to his chest & takes a nap with you 🥺 even when you wake up his arms will be around you, one protectively keeping your head near his heart!

♡ Knows exactly how much time has passed between medicine doses & is getting you to take it on time like clockwork, even setting an alarm for it on his phone!

Seonghwa

♡ Makes 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 soup 👏🏻 even if you don’t really feel up to having a whole bunch he’ll insist on spoon-feeding you a little bit because the warmth will clear your sinuses & make you feel better he promises 🥺

♡ If you fall asleep you’ll wake up with a new box of tissues magically replacing your empty one & a fresh water bottle there in hopes you’ll stay hydrated. Seonghwa likes feeling like a magical little healing fairy but his heart goes 💗 when you thank him

♡ Traces shapes on your back as you lay together, making sure you’re ok when your warm skin shivers under his touch & smiling when you tell him not to stop.

♡ Flies some of his lego ships around the room for you when you say you’re bored. You’re like I meant the tv right there but this is actually so much better. He was so into making the whoosh noises for you ok?

♡ Undresses you but not in a weird way, just getting you out of sweaty clothes & into clean pajamas or a robe, pulling you into it & kissing your shoulder, then your lips 🩷

Yunho

♡ Holds your hand in both of his & tells you he’ll do as much as he can for you, so please just ask ok?

♡ The type to insist you do not have enough blankets, take one more actually blankets cure everything

♡ Proceeds to then roll himself up into a matching blanket burrito until you two are wiggling around like ridiculous blanket worms & you know what? It cheers you up at least & gives you your first laugh in 2 days, so success in Yunho’s mind 😌

♡ TBH tells you so many jokes & does little performances to distract you. Blanket cape superman impression. Cute version of an Ateez choreography. Dramatic ritual dance to ‘scare the germs away’. ‘Get out of my (y/n)!!! *hand wave*’

♡ Lifts you up & carries you bridal style when it’s time for bed, laying you down so gently it’s like falling on clouds ☁️

Yeosang

♡ Smooths back your forehead to give you kisses even if you’re kinda sweaty 🩷

♡ Will 100% offer to read you a story, this man is far too precious 😭 if there’s a royalty figure in the story especially a beautiful one he’ll change their name to yours!!!

♡ ‘Now will you believe me when I say you need to bring a coat when we go out?’ ‘But I like yours 🥺’ ‘Ok, then I’ll make sure I have it with me.’ On the inside he was thrilled because free excuse to give you his clothes heck yeahhhh

♡ Wriggles in under the fuzzy electric blanket the moment he’s done spreading it over you, making you laugh with his cute satisfied smile & nod.

♡ ‘Hiyah!’ (That’s the sound of Yeosang fluffing your pillow with little chops until it’s nice & poofy for your heard again)

San

♡ Gives you the biggest 🥺 eyes the moment he sees you sprawled out feeling uncomfortable, wishing he could take your pain from you 🥺

♡ Big spoons you immediately & tells you he won’t leave you until you’re feeling better! You can feel him nuzzle into you like he can’t get close enough, lending you his warmth.

♡ Softly sings a love song while you guys cuddle to remind you that no matter what state you’re in he will always love you 🥰

♡ San brings over a whole bag of supplies without having to ask, so he’s already armed with decongestants, tissues, painkillers, vapor chest rub, a container of a soup you like, water, electrolytes & vitamin C, & a plushie at the store he saw & thought might cheer you up when he was buying all that!

♡ Puts the chest rub on you so softly, pausing to let you adjust to the cold & holding your half-raised head steady while he does it.

Mingi

♡ ‘What do you have though? How bad is it? Do you need the doctor? I’ll go get the doctor.’ ‘Mingi no it’s just a bad cold-’

♡ Sits at the side of the bed holding your hands so dramatically as if you were in an irl medical drama until you just pat the half of the bed next to you & have him lay down to watch some tv

♡ Absolute KING though of making you your tea exactly how you want to take it. Insists on the peppermint blend though because duh it’s good for congestion, inflammation, nasuea, & like everything you could possibly be feeling 💁🏻‍♀️

♡ You guys nap together & the moment you wake up he asks how you feel, if it’s any better. When you say yes, a little, he takes your hands in his & claps them, giving a little ‘yaaaay!’

♡ Acts, in fact, like your healing is a personal achievement. Hypes you up like ‘wow, this disease has nothing on you. Look at you go, beating it like a pro. It’s so amazing how well you’re fighting this off’ while you’re just sitting there like Mingi this is not voluntary. He won’t hear of it, though, nope. Too busy gushing over your amazing recovery skills because you’re the best at everything, actually, & you know what maybe he helped too 😎 you guys are both the best.

Wooyoung

♡ OML you are not going ANYWHEREEEE

♡ If you so much as stand up behind Wooyoung’s back he’ll be like ‘Ah ah ah no whatever it is I can get it’. ‘Wooyoung I’m going to the restroom’ He deflates a little. ‘Ah, I see. …oh alright fine’

♡ Part of the not moving scheme is so he can throw himself onto the bed next to your blanket pile self & throw a leg over you & get in all the cuddles his heart desires >:)

♡ ‘What do you want?’ ‘Maybe just some decongestants? Thank you so much!’ Wooyoung returns, dropping like 5 pill boxes & 2 bags at your feet proudly. ‘What is all this?’ ‘I wasn’t sure what kind you wanted so I bought them all. Also got some lozenges~’

♡ Squishes your face & tells you how cute you are even when you’re sick. Just when you think the doting is up is when he starts kissing all over your cheeks instead of squishing them 😘

Jongho

♡ Probably the only one to actually sit down by you on the bed & just ask what you need lmao

♡ Intense battle between ‘nO I CAN DO IT YOU NEED REST’ & ‘yOU’RE SICK & I LOVE YOU STAY STILL’ but you always lose because you’re going up against Choi Jongho & besides hearing him say I love you pretty much always gets him his way

♡ Lays next to you & chats, watches tv, even just goes on his phone & lets you play with his other hand so you never feel alone 🥺 it’s quiet time for him to just make himself available however you personally are comfortable!

♡ If you feel sore anywhere, he’ll offer to massage it in a heartbeat if he can! Even if you’re not specifically sore he’ll do it because you aren’t feeling good, the least he can do is pamper you a little 👸🏻

♡ 50-50 on if he teases you or gets shy, but it’s a 100% chance he will sing you a lullaby if you claim any struggle sleeping & ask for a song!

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #requested #jacobbaeluvr #fluff #illness

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fynnthefeline · 5 days ago

Text

Hey, fabulous fur-friends! 🐾

Today was a serious mission. I spotted this sneaky little sunbeam flickering around on the wall, taunting me, like, “Bet you can’t catch me!” And I’m like, “Challenge accepted, sunshine!” 😼

So there I was, on the arm of the couch, eyes locked, ready for the pounce. I’d go one way—whoosh!—the sunbeam darts away! Then I leap back the other way—bam!—but nope, still couldn’t catch it. Back and forth, my paws in full ninja mode, but that sunbeam was tricky. 😹

After a while, I figured maybe it’s just… faster than me. So I flopped down right there on the armchair, staring up at it like, “You win this round, sunbeam… but I’ll be back!” 💪 😸

Remember, fur-iends, sometimes the chase is just as fun as catching the prize. May your days be full of little adventures, even if you can’t always catch ‘em! ✨

Fynn 🐾 #FynnsTales

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 2 years ago

Note

Is könig the type of guy to put a picture of sneaky in his wallet?

Because I feel like he is🧍🏻‍♀️

After the whole removing his shirt fiansco it might as well be a spicy-but-not-too-spicy-because-he-is-protective-like-that picture yk?

Ok so I know you've literally said that it could be something spicy *right* there, but for the sake of this super cute idea we're getting something fluffy ✨ with a hint of Sneak being naughty

You could hardly believe your luck. It was incredible, but you'd managed to find a day that both you and König were free after work and the rest of your team were too busy to question your absence from base. Price was dealing with something that required he and Gaz out of the country and Ghost and Soap were sent off on a mission elsewhere. None of them could track your movements and no one else was nosy enough to bother.

That left you and König time to wander into the city together, riding the bus like a couple of teenage runaways giggling to yourself in the stuffy shuttle, uncaring of the few nicotine addled people that rode with you. König leaned against the window and held you close to his chest, stroking your arm as he filled you in on the team’s antics. Apparently, despite heavily warning the 141 off of messing with their least favourite KorTac operator, the shits had decided to go ahead and do it anyway.

“MacTavish tried to jump out at me the other day, but I heard him blabbing to Ghost about it from way down the hall, so unfortunately for him it didn’t work! After that Price had tried to give me a telling off, but I ignored him of course, at which point I get assaulted by Ghost and Garrick when I walk out and-“

“Assaulted?” you groaned, cutting him off as he was in the midst of telling you.

Ghost had informed you that he’d had a polite word, but neglected to mention any kind of ‘assault’. At the time, you’d taken his lack of bloody knuckles to be a good sign, though according to sharp bitter tones in your lover’s voice - that wasn’t the case. You could only imagine what Ghost had done to König in the heat of his anger.

“He pinned me against the wall and practically strangled me, talking all this nonsense about ‘if you don’t leave Sneaky alone, you’ll find more embedded in that back of yours than nails’ as if he’s capable of that,” König snorted.

“König that’s awful!” you moaned, wrapping your hand around his arm.

“What was awful was the punch to the gut I gave him,” he said with a grin. “He let me go pretty quick after that.”

“He just let you go? Just like that?”

“Well, I might’ve run from him and his little companion, but that’s neither here nor there,” he said with a chuckle.

A whoosh of laughter burst free before you could stop it, but nevertheless you’d slapped König’s chest playfully and told him not to do stuff like that. It wasn’t worth riling Ghost up any more than he already was, he could be quite formidable when he felt slighted and the last thing you wanted was permanent damage on behalf of your so called ‘protection’.

Then, after the long winding journey had rolled to a close, you stepped out into town and grabbed something quick to eat. At which point you’d demanded to trawl the streets in search of a decent bar, looking for somewhere quiet to grab a cocktail. It was important you not go anywhere too crowded, but at the same time you knew that most of the old fashioned quiet places that König had pointed to were unlikely to make you anything nice if at all under the basis that cocktails ‘weren’t real drinks’.

Eventually, after a lot of discussion, sore feet from all the walking around, and whining on your part, you agreed to venture into a quirky little place with ocean themed decorations, ironically called ‘the dive bar’, that had a few customers and a relaxing vibe. The inside was lit by blue neon and dim yellow halogen bulbs and all the tables were made from old wood, like something off of a ship’s hull. It was cheesy, but it did a great Daiquiri and most importantly König wasn’t crawling out of his skin with crowd anxiety.

“I like this place,” you’d declared, looking around at the kitschy décor while you sipped your fruity drink. “It’s cosy.”

“It’s not so bad I suppose,” König replied, picking at the dewy label on his beer bottle.

“Oh c’mon, admit it, it’s fun!”

“If you think pirate decorations and hardly being able to see is fun,” he shrugged. “Then yes. Very fun.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport! Plus look, they have pool over there and foosball and… oh my god a photobooth!”

He groaned at that and narrowed his eyes, giving you a look as if to say not in a million years.

However, never one to deny you, he’d dutifully marched over for a game of pool (which you’d let him win of course, just to butter him up a little) and watched as he smiled victoriously when he’d potted the black ball. Though, he wasn’t so easily convinced into your next suggestion. Apparently getting König into a photobooth was harder than any other feat you’d accomplished yet.

“Those eyes won’t work on me,” he shrugged, taking a gratuitous sip of his beer. “I’m not falling for it.”

“But…pleeeeaaasseeeee,” you whined, dragging out each letter like it was molasses pouring from a tin.

“In case you’ve forgotten I can’t have pictures of my face floating around, Sneaky, you know this.”

“But you can put on your neck warmer!”

“I don’t have it,” he sniffed.

“Liar! You always keep it in your back pocket if you’re not wearing it,” you challenged, poking at his chest.

“Been staring at my arse much, hm?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, but nevertheless stood your ground. You were determined, you weren’t going to let him change the subject. You were high on the light buzz of overly sweet alcohol and you desperately wanted something to hold onto when you couldn’t have him near.

“You know I have been,” you winked, recovering quickly and embracing him. “And look – I’m right.”

He growled out and snatched the cloth from your hands, his eyes narrowing down at your ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ face. If you were anyone else, you’d be dead or held up by one of the decorative nets on the ceiling, but by virtue of being you, you were allowed to remain standing. Hell couldn’t beat the heat firing from his eyes, but even despite that, he broke and started to put the neck warmer on.

“You’re paying.”

You could hardly believe it, but you weren’t going to waste time standing there contemplating where the depths of König’s devotion lay. You followed him into the booth and planted yourself on his lap, excitedly slotting the coins into the machine, listening to them rattle, watching as the screen flashed and presented you with your options. Apparently you could choose a range of different filters and frames, though, ever a fan of the classics, you opted to go for a black and white filter and no frame.

“Look happy, grumpy man,” you chastised, looking over at him while preparing for your first photo and fixing your hair.

“This is me happy.”

“Don’t seem to recall you looking like that in the hotel room,” you whispered, brushing your lips against the side of his neck. "And I seem to remember you were very happy then."

The first photo flashed and you sniggered as you saw it dissolve into view, you looking sultry and pleased with yourself while König looked flustered under the mask. That one was a keeper for sure, no matter the protests that he made. He didn’t have much of a chance to put it down though. In a matter of seconds the timer was counting down again and you tried to do a silly pose, sticking up peace signs until König broke you by tickling your side.

“Hey! That’s not fair,” you said, half giggling half groaning.

“You got me, so I got you. Fairs fair, Sneaky,” he chuckled.

“You’re such a meanie!”

“Yeah, and you love it,” he said, his eyes glinting with a smile. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have stuck around this long.”

The third and final photo was taken when you were looking into each other’s eyes, locked in a gaze that betrayed the sickly lovebirds you were underneath all the playfighting and cool exteriors you both tried to preserve. Neither of you said a word as it came and went on the display, both admiring how the other looked, stuck in your adoring silence.

Though soon the screen went dark and König sighed, petting your thigh so you’d stand from his lap. You obliged and wandered out, going to fetch your paper strip of photos when you were beat to your prize. König snatched them first and held them up at a height, inspecting them again while you jumped and screeched like a Tasmanian devil.

“Hey! I paid for those,” you growled, trying to grip onto his shoulders for leverage.

“Maybe so, but I’m afraid I have to confiscate them,” he said in a fake somber tone, easily batting your hands off of him like a kitten. “They’re classified, you don’t have the clearance for them.”

“But they’re mine!” you whined.

“Mine now,” he grinned, slipping his temporary mask down so that he could stick his tongue out.

You huffed, but eventually you vowed to steal them later, not missing König sticking them in his wallet and making sure to secret it away in his front pockets away from your sneaking reach. You would get those photos somehow, someway, you’d told him. His bullshit arm span couldn’t protect him forever!

#könig #a rocky start #a Rocky oneshot

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

during - part seven

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

tommy takes care of joel as best he can, and you try and make a break for it.

a/n: y’all I am having way too much fun writing this story. part 7 earlier than planned, and tbh I’ll probably post part 8 tomorrow if I can. the inspo is REAL and thank you all for the comments and reblogs and messages and general love and support - you have no idea how happy it makes me!! 🤍

word count: 4.6k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, death, blood, near-death experiences, questionable decisions on the military’s part

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters!✨

Tommy watches his brother fall apart.

It’s one thing after another, and he can’t blame Joel. The world’s ending; everything else is falling apart, it only makes sense that he would too. But still, it hurts. Watching his big brother — the only constant in his life for as long as he can remember — break down, it makes Tommy hurt in a way he can’t fully comprehend. It’s not fair.

He thinks about the soldier, in the days that follow. He’d come up the ridge just as the gunfire sounded, already looking for his brother and niece, never expecting to find them the way that he did. Joel was pleading, already hurt, his hands in the air, as good a white flag as any, and the soldier just didn’t care. It went against everything in Tommy, but when the soldier lifted the gun again, Tommy fired first.

But then…Sarah.

There was so much blood. He should be used to it, being who he is, seeing what he’s seen. But it’s different, it feels different, it sits in the back of his mind and haunts his every step. She was so young. So bright, so good. And then just, gone.

“Tommy, help me!”

He’d never heard Joel like that, so desperate, so lost. The only moment that rivalled it was when they’d been in the truck, Tommy driving, Joel with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Talking to you, asking where you were, if you were safe.

“It’s everywhere,” Joel had said, and Tommy had felt a distinct feeling of helplessness wash through him. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just in Austin. He focused on the road, tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the distance. Shit was hitting the fan, in every sense.

He tightened his grip on the wheel as Joel continued talking to you. You were hurt, Joel telling you to patch yourself up. “I’m not hanging up until you do.”

Tommy could hear the ache in his brother’s voice. Joel had never let you go, not completely, and Tommy knew it. He didn’t blame Joel for it; having you around was the happiest he’d seen his brother in a long time. He liked you, too, liked your laugh and your sense of humour, the way you looked at Joel like you were seeing him for the first time, every time.

He had to swerve the truck as another car barrelled down the road in the opposite direction. Joel grabbed for the dashboard, phone still glued to his ear. “I’m gonna find you, you hear me? Just get out of Boston and I swear to you, I’m gonna find you!” A pause, and Joel stared at the phone. Tommy could see his brother’s hands shaking. “It’s dead.”

A moment later, the radio — which had been spewing news reports since Joel had picked Tommy up — went silent. Joel tossed his phone onto the truck floor, slammed his fist into the dash a moment later.

“Fuck!”

“She okay?” Tommy asked, and Joel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Joel?”

“Boyfriend attacked her,” Joel grumbled, rubbing his forehead again. “Tried to fuckin’ bite her. She said he’s dead.”

Tommy had balked. “She did that?”

“Dunno,” Joel had replied, and huffed a humourless laugh, the noise almost flat. “Is it fucked up if I say I hope she did?”

Tommy had pressed the gas a little harder, the truck speeding down the road. “Everything’s fucked up, seems like.” Silence hung over them only for a moment, punctuated a moment later by the loud whoosh of flames as a car down the road collided with a telephone pole. Joel cursed under his breath, Tommy kept on driving. “What are we gonna do, Joel?”

“We get Sarah, and we go,” his brother replied, and despite the waver in his voice, he sounded sure. Surer than Tommy felt. “East.”

East, Tommy thought. Boston. You. Like he’d expected anything different. “You really think you can find her?”

“I can sure as hell try.”

The conversation feels like a year ago, instead of the handful of days it has been. Maybe a week; he’s starting to lose track, already. They’ve been holed up for a few hours now, tucked in the garage of an abandoned house. They crossed the state line a few hours back, and so far, Arkansas looks the same as Texas: fucking ravaged. Joel sits on the floor, knees up to his chest, face buried in his arms. Tommy feels antsy.

“I’m gonna go look inside, see if there’s anything worth taking. You good?”

“Yeah.”

Seems like every neighbourhood they come across has been evacuated, the houses all empty. They have guns; he already had his own, and he’d swiped the rifle from the soldier that had attacked Joel and Sarah. Though he was quick to give Joel his, take the soldier’s for himself. Something about Joel touching the weapon that had killed Sarah made Tommy’s gut twist. He didn’t like it either, but it was out of necessity.

The house has obviously been picked through, toppled furniture and broken glass as far as he can tell, but they get lucky: a first aid kit, a mostly full bottle of whiskey, and some cans of beans. Tommy grabs it all, heads up the stairs. Clearly an older couple, but there’s a few men’s jackets in one of the closets, a pair of work boots, plain t-shirts. He takes the lot, offering the boots to Joel when he gets back to the garage. “These your size?”

His brother takes the boots with a flat expression, pulling the laces to peer at the sole. “About there, yeah. Don’t need ‘em though.”

“Take ‘em with us, for when you do,” Tommy counters, offering Joel one of the t-shirts next. “You should change.”

“M’fine.”

Tommy hooks the gun over his head, setting it on the ground beside him as he crouches in front of Joel. “You’re covered in blood,” he says, and his brother snatches the t-shirt. “Need to change your bandage, too.”

“And what exactly do you want me to—” Joel starts, but shuts up when Tommy tosses the first aid kit to him.

“Need help?” he asks as Joel gets to his feet, pulls his stained t-shirt off, tosses it aside. They’d found a half empty kit in a cafe back in Austin, dressed Joel’s wound before they took off completely. Joel was lucky, just a graze, but Tommy knows it must hurt like hell, and it’ll leave a scar, a reminder of that night, of what was lost.

Joel winces as he pulls of the old bandage, tossing it in the same direction as the t-shirt. “Don’t suppose you found any water in there?” He digs through the first aid kit. “No antiseptic.”

“No water,” Tommy confirms, but holds up the bottle of whiskey. “Just this.”

It’s not ideal, using the alcohol to clean the graze — and Joel nearly puts his fist through the wall despite the healthy sip he takes before Tommy wipes a piece of gauze damp with the whiskey over the wound — but it’ll work. They have to make do.

Joel sinks back onto the concrete floor once the wound is redressed, the new t-shirt pulled over his head. He takes the whiskey with him, and Tommy sits beside his brother, both of them with rifles in their laps. They sip the bottle in turn, and Tommy savours the burn as it slides down his throat, warmth spreading through his chest. It loosens his tongue, makes him regret the question the second it’s out of his mouth.

“You think she made it?” He knows he doesn’t have to call you by name. Not now.

“I have to,” is his brother’s only response.

They stop you at the gate.

You don’t know what you’re thinking, but after staking out the giant metal fence for a few hours, you at least know that trying to sneak over is only going to result in a bullet finding a home somewhere it shouldn’t. The soldiers were firing at anything that made a break for the gate, and running full-force didn’t make you brave, it made you stupid. It made you look like one of them. Infected. Mindless. Blood-thirsty. A few have come sprinting up to the post you’ve been watching, and the soldiers have put them down without batting an eye.

As you’ve watched, a few groups of people have approached the post. All the same, their hands in the air, desperation in their voices, carried to you on the smoke-tinged breeze. Please help us. You’ve watched them get directed away from the post, towards a still-standing building a few yards from the gate, where a military-issue tent is set up. Some of them walk back out, are directed towards an armoured truck parked along the gate, and then the truck disappears, only for a new one to reappear in its stead a few minutes later. It’s like clockwork, but only some end up in the trucks.

Others are carried out the back of the tent, bodies dumped into one of the pits left by the bombing. It makes your skin crawl.

It takes a while, lacking the confidence to put yourself in the line of fire when you could just keep hiding in the city. The soldiers might find you eventually — if the Infected didn’t find you first — but if you could just keep going, maybe there was a break in the fence somewhere, a way out besides what lies ahead of you. But finally, after a few hours of squatting in the rubble, your limbs aching from staying pressed against brick, you step out of the alley, and put your hands in the air. You’ve pulled down the sleeves of the hoodie you’re wearing, letting it cover the bandage around your arm, and you grip the cuffs with your fingers as you raise your arms.

“I’m not infected!”

A flash of movement, and the barrels of at least ten rifles are pointed directly at you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, bile rising in the back of your throat. A suitable reaction, you think, and you swallow back the fear that makes you want to run. It’ll only get you killed that much faster.

“Name!” one of the soldier’s shouts. You can’t tell who; they’re all wearing helmets, visors covering their faces, turning it into a sea of darkness staring back at you. Your fingers flex, and you call you name back.

“I need to leave.”

One of them starts laughing. Another two look at each other, sharing a look you can’t suss out. A few lower their guns, and the prickle along your spine fizzles slightly. A visor lifts, revealing a soot-streaked face, a grim expression. “Why on earth would you wanna do that?”

“My family is in Texas,” you say, your voice surprisingly strong, if not a little thready from the smoke. “I have to go find them.”

“You’re gonna walk halfway across the country,” a faceless voice asks, “with a baseball bat? Girl, you don’t have a hope in hell.”

“Beats sitting around here, waiting to die,” you throw back, and the soldier that had lifted his visor lifts his brow. “Let me pass.”

“Can’t do that,” he replies, and steps up in front of you. He’s got a strange face, eyes a little too dark, hair hidden by the helmet, a scar on his mouth. Something about him reminds you of Dean, but a much harder version, his face more angular, the voice slightly deeper. “No one gets out of the city, we have orders.”

“You can’t hold me hostage here,” you start, stepping towards him. Your hands are still in the air. “My family is out there, I need to—”

“No one gets out,” another soldier interrupts. “FEDRA’s orders.”

Your brow creases. “FEDRA?”

“Federal Disaster Response Agency,” the strange-faced soldier answers.

“So the military is taking over?”

“I never said that.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Just let me go, please? I can’t stay here, my family—”

“Is in Texas,” the soldier replies, nodding along. He hefts his gun slightly, adjusting his grip, and you don’t miss the meaning, the silent threat behind it. “And you’re here, in Boston. Now you don’t have a car, or any real weapons, and we have orders. You’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest that crawls up your throat. If you’re getting out, it’s not through here. “Then where am I supposed to go?”

“There’s a shelter,” he tells you, “in the mall. There’s food, water, beds. It’s temporary, but it’s safe.”

“Temporary, like the gate?”

He gives you a long look, then gestures towards the tent you’ve been watching them shuffle people through. “Let’s get you checked out, and then we’ll get you there.”

You match his stare, setting your jaw, digging your heels in slightly. The muzzle of his rifle dips just slightly, and his eyes pinch, narrowing at you.

“I’ll only ask nicely once.”

Heart in your throat, you drop your hands, and when he gestures towards the tent again, you go. Every single part of you is shaking as you head for the canvas structure, and once you’re inside, it’s no different. It’s shockingly clean, a metal table in the middle, a smaller one to the side. “Put your bag there,” the soldier orders, that familiar stern military tone, pointing to the bigger table. “The bat, too.”

You do as you’re told, seeing from the corner of your eye that he’s still got both hands on his gun. “I’m keeping the bat,” you say over your shoulder, pulling it out from where you’d slid it between the straps of the bag, resting against your lower back. The metal rings when you set it on the table. “For the record.”

“Never said you couldn’t keep it, did I?”

“You want me to go to that shelter in the mall,” you say, sliding the bag off your shoulders, placing it next to the bat, and then turning back to the soldier, “with every other terrified person in this city, and you expect me to believe you’re gonna let me walk in with a weapon?”

The soldier’s jaw goes tight, eyes even tighter. “Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your clothes off,” he says, clearly getting exasperated. “I might let you keep the bat, but there’s no way I’m letting you into the mall shelter knowing you’ve been bitten. Strip.”

“Bitten?” you repeat, your mind sparking at the new information. “Is that how this is spreading?” To appease him, hoping he’ll give you a bit more information, you pull the hoodie off, disentangling your arms slowly. “That’s what’s turning people into those—”

The hoodie comes off, revealing your bandaged shoulder and forearm, and the gun is pointed back in your face again, a soft click reaching your ears. “You’re injured.”

“Y’know, I usually like to at least know a guy’s name before he sees me half-naked.”

He ignores you. “You’re injured.”

You heave a breath, tucking the edge of the gauze around your arm back into place. “You dropped bombs on this city. I dare you to find someone out there who isn’t injured.”

The soldier just stares at you. You just stare back.

“Take the bandages off,” he orders, and your hands curl into fists. “I need to see.”

“Tell me your name first,” you counter, still holding his gaze.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m aware; you’re the one holding the gun. But I also know you’ve been taking bodies out of this tent more than you’ve been sending people to the shelter. So, again, tell me your name.”

He leans back slightly, takes a deep breath, eyes darting to the side before meeting yours again. “Corporal Nicholas Cowan, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” you repeat, almost laughing. “That’s a bit much, but—”

“The bandages.”

“Okay, okay.”

Carefully, you peel back the gauze on your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches or anything, and you’d slathered it with some kind of ointment in the first aid kit. It still looks pretty awful, and the tape along the edge of the bandage has left little indents in your skin, but it’s definitely healing. Your arm is next, that wound fresher, and it starts to bleed as soon as you pull the gauze away. Cowan gives you a new piece of gauze a moment later, tossing it onto the table between you rather than handing it right to you. “What happened?”

“I was in the bookstore, down on South Street, when you all decided to start dropping bombs. Fucking lucky a bookshelf didn’t fall on my head.”

He still has the gun pointed at you, though the grip is slightly more relaxed, and he circles you slowly, eyes glued to your shoulder. “Those look like claw marks.”

“That’s because they are.”

“So that happened before the bombs.”

“It did.”

“I’m supposed to shoot, the moment I see anything like that. I have orders.”

“It’s not a bite.”

“I know that.” He swallows so hard you can see his throat bob. “They haven’t figured it all out. The bite seems to make it happen faster, but I don’t know if—”

“I’ll tell you what, Corporal,” you interrupt, reaching for your bag, pulling the first aid kit out and fishing out new bandages, “I start to turn into one of those things, and I give you my full permission to blow my fucking brains out.” Cowan balks, his eyes widening for a moment as he stares back at you. “But for the record, it’s been seven days, and I’m still here, faculties intact. So, politely, go fuck yourself, and just let me through the gate.”

He doesn’t.

Cowan lets you redress, once your bandages have been hastily rewrapped; you’d protested and he told you they’d give you proper treatment at the shelter. Once that was done, you grabbed your pack — and the bat, which Cowan barely seemed to notice — and he grabbed you roughly by the arm, dragging you out of the tent and steering you towards one of the armoured trucks parked at the fence.

You’re all but stuffed inside, and Cowan gets into the passenger’s seat, a masked soldier behind the wheel. “The mall,” he says simply, and the soldier just nods, and the engine rumbles to life, pulling away from the chain link and heading back into the city.

You keep the bat in your lap as they drive, your eyes glued to the window, to the mess that now only partially resembles Boston. You’d seen enough of the destruction running through the streets, but the truck takes a few pathways you hadn’t. Some roads aren’t as destroyed, obviously not targeted by the bombs, and the asphalt is even, still intact. There’s no getting past the bodies, however, and that pulls your eyes away, staring down at your bruised and dirty hands, wrapped around the bat.

When the truck stops outside the mall, the driver doesn’t get out. You lift your head then, taking in the space around you. It’s more of the same, but the mall looks mostly undisturbed, except for the broken windows, the burned displays. Cowan slides out of the passenger’s side, pulls open your door a moment later. “Let’s go.”

There are three more soldiers standing at the entrance, and as Cowan starts to lead you through, one of them stops you, lifting a hand. “You can’t take that in there,” the soldier says, pointing to the bat. “Give it here.”

“No.”

Cowan sighs, turning back to you, waving off the soldier. “C’mon, just—”

“No,” you say again, your voice harder. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m walking around this city without it.”

“You’re safe in the mall,” Cowan says, nearly rolling his eyes at you, but you just lift a brow. “It’s a shelter, and we’re patrolling from the outside.” He points over his shoulder, and sure enough, you see a few more armoured trucks rolling across the street, armed soldiers trailing behind it. Like it makes a difference.

You almost laugh. “Nowhere is safe anymore.” You tighten your grip on the bat. “You really think your chain link fence is gonna save us from those things?”

He gives you another one of those hard stares, but relents, waving off the other soldiers and grabbing the handle on your bag, all but dragging you through the entrance. “If she attacks someone, it’s on you, Cowan!” one of the soldier’s shouts, and he just grumbles under his breath.

“Do me a favour,” he says to you as he releases you, making you stumble a step before he falls into step beside you, “don’t be more trouble than you’re worth.”

“And what am I worth, Corporal?”

“You’re alive, and you’re not one of them,” he says, and you don’t miss the thread of…is that hope, in his voice? “So that makes you worth something.”

He’s quiet, the rest of the way. There’s no electricity, the overhead fluorescents dark, and Cowan clicks on a flashlight, lighting your path deeper into the mall. There’s the whir of generators, as you get closer, big lights that looks like they were taken from construction sites. You see the food court has been turned into a makeshift hospital, and Cowan tells you the big department store on the main level is where you’ll sleep, for the time being.

There aren’t that many people, which makes your throat go a little thick. How many people have died, how many have turned, how many made it out of Boston before they put up the fence?

Cowan takes your arm again as you walk towards the food court, calling for someone as you get closer. “Deanna! I got one for you.”

An older lady, maybe late fifties, pokes her head out from behind one of the triage curtains. Her face is both kind and harsh at the same time, bright green eyes, grey-streaked hair pulled into a long ponytail, blood-stained scrubs and a tool belt around her waist that’s filled with medical instruments instead of actual tools. It almost makes you laugh.

“Must be special,” she says, her voice a little gravelly as she approaches you, wiping her hands on her pants. “You don’t usually escort them all the way down here, Nicky.” Her eyes drop to the bat in your hands and her brows raise. “Or let them come in armed.”

Once she’s close enough, Cowan releases you and takes Deanna by the arm, steering her off to the side. You stand there awkwardly, the bat banging against your leg. Your forearm is a little sore, and you’re half-sure it’s soaked through the bandages you’d haphazardly retied after Cowan’s inspection. You glance over at the pair a few times, seeing them both shooting you looks before turning back to each other. Deanna looks confused, then upset, then almost forgiving. You can’t quite figure out Cowan’s expression.

After a few minutes, she just nods, and Cowan turns on his heel, heading back in the direction you came, leaving you alone. Deanna gives you a once-over as she walks towards you again, putting a warm hand on your back and starting to steer you towards one of the curtains. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

She leads you behind one of the curtains, then another, and once you’re in the little makeshift room, she pulls another curtain into place. “Nicky said we need to be quick about this,” she says, leaning up on her toes to peer over the curtains, assumedly to see if anyone is coming. “And quiet.”

“Okay.”

You let her take your bag, set it on the chair that’s set to the side. You’re reluctant to let go of the bat, but when you finally let her take it, she puts it beside you on the cot. “You’ve been out there this whole time?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. You nod. “Even the bombs?” Another nod. “Show me where you’re hurt.”

You hold your breath as you peel off the hoodie. You were right, your arm has bled through the bandage, and your shoulder aches with the movement. Deanna doesn’t say a word at first, her brow furrowed as she looks you over.

She tends to your arm first, wiping the blood from your skin, using some sort of glue to close the wound before she wraps it in fresh gauze. She circles you slowly, just like Cowan had, and you hear her sharp inhale when she sees your shoulder. “What have we here?” She wipes at more of the blood, and the sting makes you tense, your hand twitching towards the bat at your side. “What did that?”

“…boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder to see her staring at you, a look that toes the line between sympathy and fear on her face. “Was he…”

You give a slight nod. “He was.”

“And is he…?”

“Not anymore.”

Her brows raise. “You did that?”

Another nod. “I did that.”

She blows out a breath, shaking her head side to side. “Damn, girl. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

It’s the first time you’ve actually laughed since your birthday.

They give you some clothes, stuff that actually fits, pilfered from one of the stores. Toiletries even, and you spend far too much time brushing your teeth. No showers, unfortunately, but the pack of baby wipes you’re offered instead makes up for it. It nearly makes you cry to see your skin clean of the dust and ash and blood.

They give you food, too. A grocery bag filled with non-perishables, more granola bars and cans of soup and whatnot. You try not to chug an entire bottle of water when they give you a second bag filled with drinks; not just water, but sports drinks, random cans of pop, clearly raided from the mall vending machines. And a hot meal, courtesy of one of the food court hot plates. It’s some kind of stew, noodles and meat and veggies, and for a moment, all you can think about is the Thai food that was waiting on your kitchen counter.

Feels like a lifetime ago.

Deanna walks you to the department store, gives your name to one of the soldier’s standing guard. He points you in the right direction, and she goes with you, a steady hand on your back, until you find the cot you’ve been assigned, tucked in the corner of the section where all the towels would have been, the displays still up on the walls. “We took them all already,” she tells you, giving you a half-grin as she picks up the blanket on your cot, unfolding the fabric. “Those extra-plush suckers make great bandages.”

You’re quiet, tucking your bag and your food and clothing under the cot. They’d refilled your first aid kit, too. Your knees are almost shaking as you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, and the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. Tears spring in your eyes, but you don’t have the energy to wipe them away.

“Get some sleep, honey,” she tells you, and puts a soft hand on your shoulder as you slip sideways, collapsing onto the pillow. “You’ll be safe. Sleep as much as you need.”

She pulls the blankets over you, and it’s silly, but you clutch the bat to your chest. You’d wiped it down, too, cleaned the blood and dirt from the metal. Sleep takes hold as soon as you let your eyes close, and you pray no nightmares follow.

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #comment reply #kay talks to people

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faery-wizard · 2 years ago

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Whoosh!

✳️✨❇️✳️✨❇️

You've been hit with my spell BANISHMENT TO ALTERNATE TUMBLR DIMENSIONS!!

12 notes

🗡️ swiftattacker_03 Follow

death of the corrupt duke in 2024 like to aim reblog to strike

7,345 notes

🪨 hedgeknighted Follow

just beat the knave brother of the king and must now duel Marloth of the kings guard but we stay silly :3

834 notes

⚔️ blades-oath Follow

heroes: This is my blessed sword Icethorn it was forged in the frost of the mountain Rothynn and quenched in the blood of the giants

mercenaries: this is helmsplitter it splits helms

#shitpost #wizardposting #fakeposting

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cookie-0wo · 6 months ago

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Overanalyzing

Part 3: The Ocean Saga

Storm

- Intense song that I rarely listen to

- Full Speed Ahead

- stooorm whoosh

- "what?"

Luck Runs Out

- Odysseus' nylon guitar

- In Odysseus' mercy speech, you can hear Polites' motif

- When Odysseus makes Eurylochus step aside, the music's more intense

Keep Your Friends Close

- Aelous is a god, but voiced by a girl (not that I have a problem with it)

- Aelous' instrument is flute

- "Everything's changed since Polites"😭

- ✨PeNEloPE✨

- "Everything's changed but I'm the same" lol wait until he goes to the underworld :P

- stooooorm whoosh

Ruthlessness

- His intro is literally the danger motif

- There's a wave in every beat

- Poseidon's song keeps going upwards to show suspense

- Athena's piano coming back just to say I told you so

- The crew cries out captain in the danger motif

- When Odysseus speaks about the bag, he says it in the same tone as Aelous does.

- Poseidon says the same thing that Odysseus says to the Cyclops

Troy Cyclops Circe Underworld

#epic the musical #epic the ocean saga #odysseus

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dreamingroleplayer · 19 days ago

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Screaming, squealing, crying and swooning at this story I found online, "Flour Power" by Watchman

I SWEAR it seems to incapsulate everything I love about the kink so obviously I'll show it to you and hope you'll appreciate as much as me (did I ever tell you I'm always open for rp? 👀)

Premise: Who is the secret admirer that's been sending Rebecca love letters? When her friend Edward refuses to spill the beans on what he knows, Rebecca decides it might be time for a bit of friendly persuasion.

Enjoy~✨

It was dark by the time Edward left his office. The air was mild outside, but the town seemed subdued under the streetlights. He walked briskly among crowds of people who were returning home from work. The sign on the door of Groves bakers had been switched over to show ‘Closed’. Only a faint light from the back of the store gave any indication that there might still be someone inside. Edward paused for a moment and then knocked on the door. A few seconds later a figure emerged and ushered him inside.

Rebecca kissed him briefly on the cheek and smiled. “Hi, Ed. I just have a couple of things to put away downstairs and then I’ll be ready. The movie doesn’t start for another forty minutes so there’s no rush.”

Edward followed her behind the counter to the back of the store. A set of narrow stairs led them down to a compact basement area where a large oven dominated one of the walls. There was a work surface lined with empty baking trays and beside that, a small sink and drainer. The place seemed imbued with a cosy warmth. Across the room were a table and two chairs.

“Take a seat if you want,” Rebecca offered.

He sat down and watched as she collected a couple of trays from the oven and stacked them by the sink. There was a whooshing noise as a tap was turned on. Rebecca took a cloth and rubbed down the work surfaces with vigorous strokes. Edward was quite happy to sit and watch her at work, to enjoy the moving shape of her body as she went about her business.

“Is it cold outside?” Rebecca asked him.

“No. It’s actually rather mild.”

She switched off the tap and the silence rendered everything more intimate. “I got this new scarf at the weekend. Perfect for the winter…” She produced a patterned length of silk that was coloured a pale blue. “Don’t you think the fabric feels nice?”

She moved in behind him, stroked his arm gently and wrapped the scarf around one wrist and then the other. The fabric tickled the hairs on his arm. Edward found himself distracted by the contact. He could smell Rebecca’s perfume and instinctively he turned his head towards her.

“What are you doing?” He found his wrists caught between the back of the chair and the fabric of the scarf, as though she were wrapping him up like an exotic parcel.

“Um, nothing…” She leant down and kissed him briefly on the lips. “There.” She pulled the knot she’d made tighter and Edward tensed his arms. “I’ve always fancied having a man at my mercy.”

Rebecca moved back to face him properly. Her saw that her eyes were wide open, watching him greedily.

“This is just like one of those cop movies. Maybe I should be asking you probing questions.”

“What questions?” Edward felt vaguely worried. It couldn’t be about the letters, surely. There was no way she could know the truth about the letters.

“I seem to be getting teased mercilessly these days. I figure it’s someone else’s turn for a change. And right now it looks as though you’re going to be it.”

“Honestly Rebecca, I tease myself more than anyone else. You know it’s just a bit of fun.”

“Well maybe I fancy having a bit of fun too.”

As though she’d worked out every step of this encounter, Rebecca picked a large sack of flour from the floor. She poured a small mound into the cupped palm of her right hand and moved toward Edward. For a moment, as she crouched down, they were looking at each other eye to eye. He couldn’t help delighting in this chance to admire the sleek beauty of her face at close quarters. She leant in closer and smiled.

Rebecca released a sharp gust of breath and a cloud of flour exploded into his face. “Oops…”

He blinked rapidly, took several sharp breaths and shook his head to try and disperse the flour. He felt his nostrils prickle as part of the cloud found its way up his nose. He didn’t want to sneeze, but he couldn’t help himself. His hands were securely bound and he couldn’t even stifle the sound.

“Ahhh…shooo!”

Rebecca laughed. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry Ed, that flour seems to have got everywhere…”

Edward felt his skin reddening. He was acutely uncomfortable. His nose itched like mad. In his head he recalled the earlier image of Rebecca and the shop and the sneeze that had followed; all somehow inextricably linked. Even now, in this strangest of circumstances, he couldn’t help noticing he was feeling a little aroused.

He tried to steer his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Why did you … why …” but he couldn’t complete the question before another sneeze, this one louder than the last, exploded out of him. “Heckshooo!”

“Poor Ed, you look so uncomfortable. Trust me, I know what it’s like working here. Breathe in too much of that flour and you can find yourself sneezing for hours.”

Edward didn’t have an answer. He sniffed gallantly and then succumbed to another sneeze. “Heck-asssshoo.”

Rebecca smiled. “You know what I’d recommend? You need to clear your sinuses. A good blow ought to do it.” She took out a neatly folded handkerchief from her coat pocket and waved it towards Edward. “Hmm. I’d lend you this, but you don’t seem to have a free hand right now.”

“You could always untie me.”

“Yes, but this is so much more fun. I suppose I might be persuaded to release you. Maybe in exchange for a little bit of information.”

“Inf -” Edward gasped, caught on the brink of another sneeze. “What information?”

“The mystery admirer. I’d like you to tell me who it is.”

“Oh that…” Edward looked wearily at the handkerchief that Rebecca had placed just out of his reach. Each time he sniffed it felt as though the agony in his nose got worse. He wanted to let it all out, his senses felt ready to burst open. It was hard to disguise the exquisite torture he felt and yet at the same time the fact that it was exciting him was becoming patently obvious. He bit his lower lip and prayed Rebecca wouldn’t notice.

“I was just messing,” he pleaded. “I don’t really know anything.”

Rebecca stared coolly at him. “I don’t believe you.”

Edward tried to think of an answer he could give that might persuade Rebecca to untie him, but his mind was blank. The irritation in his nose was incredible and without a free hand to stifle it he felt utterly helpless. The relief when he sneezed again was so intense it almost took his breath away. He had no desire to be the centre of attention, but right now the thought of another sneeze of that same intensity seemed almost too good to contain. He let out a sigh that was part relief and part longing.

“Maybe I got this all wrong. You’re supposed to be in agony, but it looks to me like you’re enjoying yourself.” Rebecca placed a hand on his trousers and ran her fingers back and forth along the pronounced outline of his penis. “I’m sure there’s a name for people who enjoy being teased like this.”

Edward shook his head and then sneezed again. “Huh … hupshooo!”

Rebecca grinned. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

He drew another laboured breath, aware of a strong desire to sneeze again. The thought alone seemed to fascinate him to the point of distraction.

Rebecca was watching him, her eyes bright with curiosity. “I have a man at my complete mercy only to find he’s enjoying it more than I am. How strange. Maybe instead of interrogating you I should find something more productive to be doing with you.” She stroked his penis again, pushed her hands up higher, feeling under his shirt to his smooth skin and bony frame. “Yes, I reckon that could be much more fun.”

Edward sneezed. He flexed his hands, not quite able to believe he was still tied up, and tried to reach for the handkerchief that lay near his feet. Before he could test the strength of his bonds further, Rebecca climbed on top of him.

“You can clear your sinuses later. Right now there’s something more important I want you to concentrate on.”

She unzipped his trousers and pushed them roughly to the floor. Her coat was off and she was hitching up her skirt.

Edward turned his head away and sneezed again. “Huh-mmmpf!” Alarmingly he noticed his penis give a quick jolt, as though a small spark of pleasure had passed through him. And perhaps it had. He could no longer discern any sense in what was happening, but each sneeze was being released like a miniature orgasm and leaning over him now was the woman he’d fantasised over for months. She was grinning like a cat who’d snared a prize catch.

Rebecca put a finger to his lips and purred: “See if you can stop sneezing for a few seconds and give me your undivided attention…”

He sniffed forlornly and tried to steady his breathing.

Rebecca ran her hands hungrily across his shoulders, dug deep into the skin on his back. The room seemed to have grown warmer, as though someone had switched the oven on. She pushed his penis inside her, watching him the whole time. He could feel her warmth, her wetness, the sense that she might consume him then and there if she could. He was unused to being outmanoeuvred, but any struggle he made just seemed to heighten the sensation as she moved against him. Unlike his business meetings, there was no bluff here.

Edward was so busy trying to reconcile these conflicting emotions that he forgot all about the incessant itch in his nose. Out of nowhere he sneezed again, not once, not twice, but three times in quick succession.

“Hushoooo! Hushooo! Heckshewww!”

His head was buried below her shoulder. “I’m sorry…,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay. It feels kind of interesting when you sneeze. Your penis sort of twitches. Actually you feel very nice.”

She rocked up and down against him, forcing him in deeper and deeper. Her hands stroked his hair and she whispered: “You know what Ed, I’d quite like it if you could sneeze again.”

A part of Edward’s mind considered the request. He wasn’t really conscious of what he could or couldn’t do, but by sniffing in air through his clogged up nose it seemed to make the irritation much more intense. He lost the rhythm of her movement for a moment as his whole body tensed. And then:

“Hahshooo! Chewww! Ahhhshoooo!”

He felt his body spasm, muscles clench and unclench. Rebecca shivered and gave out an audible groan. He was desperate and hungry, no longer able to hold himself back. His breath came in deep gasps. He felt as if he were falling or the room was rearranging itself around him. At the moment of orgasm he cried out in spite of himself. Afterwards Rebecca held him. The motion between them lessened and soon all he could hear was his own heartbeat. Rebecca buried her head against his shoulder and then leant across to kiss him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

She moved to untie the scarf from around his wrists and then carefully rearranged her clothes. Almost as an afterthought she retrieved the handkerchief and passed it across to him. He clutched it gratefully, stifling a final sneeze in the process.

Rebecca laughed. “Oops, I think we missed our movie.”

Edward was too dazed to reply. He sniffed and then blew his nose.

"I hope you don’t mind what happened. You see it’s been driving me nuts, all these letters, all this secret admirer stuff. I simply had to know. And I’m so glad I finally found out.”

Absently Edward folded the handkerchief back up. “But I didn’t tell you anything …”

Rebecca hugged him again and then kissed him firmly on the lips. She smiled. “Yes, well perhaps I’ve worked it out for myself.”

Five minutes later Edward found himself standing out on the street, trying to make sense of all that had just happened. And as he walked back home, all he could think about was the love letters he had written and then been too shy to send. He had a whole pile stacked up in a drawer in his bedroom. He wondered who Rebecca’s real secret admirer was. He smiled. After tonight perhaps it didn’t matter

#snz fet #snz kink #snzblr #snzfucker #sneeze #sneeze kink #snz rp #sneezeblr #sneezefucker #sneezing #snz fic #sneeze fic #sneezy #snz

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agirlwholovesrockstars · 1 year ago

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drenched

☆AGATHA'S MASTERLIST☆

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

warnings : 18+ MDNI Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, SMUT‼️, friends to lovers, establishing a relationship, protected sex, no use of y/n, Eddie and reader are both 21

note to reader : welcome to my first mini fictions hehe I have so many ideas but so limited time to write them all 💀

author note : I have so many thoughts about reader doing laundry and something else happened 👀 it's been a while since I made ✨another spicy fic✨ here ya go- hehe

You've been neighbors with Eddie since 2 years ago

He's nice, like super duper nice, better than any of the guys that you met before in highschool

Without him, maybe, you ended up stranded having no else to call for help not that you can't do it by yourself but it's nice to have someone

You got the house all to yourself, you got settled down, you pay your bills & taxes, you even have a job that isn't stressing you

Eddie on the other hand, have gigs and sometimes a mechanic, his house is not that much but you love how simple it is

Sometimes, you wonder, what if.... you'll date him? You'll let him if he asked you out but you can't assume that he likes you that way...

You can wait, you'll just have to wait and see if something happens

8am in the morning, you're in the backyard of your house, doing your other laundry by hand washing them

Your hair is tied up into a messy bun with lil' bit of hair flyaways on the front, you're just wearing a white tank top with white shorts that keeps riding up whenever you try to move

Eddie came home after he took a night off at Gareth's place, slightly had an headache but the moment he saw you in there

The ray of sunshine hits your skin so perfectly, the morning breeze whooshes your hair, the suds in your hands dripping with water

He doesn't even noticed that his jaw dropped at the sight of you

He accidentally dropped his keys on the wood floor on his porch making a thud sound

"Eddie? Is that you?" You say while clipping your rinsed clothes on the wire

"Damn- uh- yeah, it's me" he clicks his tongue and shakes his head feeling like creep, checking you out like that

"How's the show? Was it good?" You asked while squeezing out the water from your clothes

He can't even pick out the lock from his front door, he is staggering "Y-yeah, it was great"

"Oh, I wish I was there to see it!" After you hang your wet clothes, you squat down to hand wash the other ones

"Uh- yeah- me too" he finally unlocks it and throw his things on the side and walk towards at your backyard

He is standing there, wearing a black muscle shirt, with denim pants and white Reebok's

He hangs his arms around the small door of your backyard, watching you

The soap bubbles are covering your hands, Eddie watching you as he licks his lips witnessing the other strap of your tank top falls off, you reach out to put it back on your shoulder

He clears his throat, you rise your head up you're so focused on what you're doing you didn't even noticed he was there

"Oh, goodmorning, Eddie" you beam at him while tucking a piece of hair on your ear

"Goodmorning to you, darling" he smiles shyly

"So, uh- what are you doing later?" He asks while he catches your short riding up, giving another glimpse of your exposed skin

You reach it out again to pull it down

You pause at what you're doing to think for a moment, you turn your head directly at him "I don't have any plans for later, why?"

"M-Me either"

Oh shit, maybe- he's finally asking you out

You act casual but deep inside, you're grinning so widely

"Just say it, dumbass" he mumbled to himself

"What I'm trying to say was- can I take you out for dinner?" His hands are grip onto your small door and he looks like a kid waiting for an answer, god- this man is too precious

"Sure, you can" you stand up, holding the basin in your hands filled with soapy water

"is that a yes?"

"Yes, Eddie, you can take me out" you chuckled

His eyes sparkles with so much joyfulness

"Oh- great, um- pick you up at 7?"

"yeah- that's fine"

He nods and runs his hands on his sides

The moment you moved too fast to take out the water, it splashed onto your shirt making it look like a bit see through, he glanced on your stomach, he saw your white chiffon cotton bra

"Oh, goddamn it!" You exclaimed, you sigh, you throw the left water from the basin

You shake down your hands making a water splatter everywhere

You look at Eddie, there's a look you can even read but you said "I'm sorry, but I'll see you later, I'm gonna go clean up" you point out from your backdoor

You didn't gave him a chance to reply, you're already inside the house

He blinked and gulped, he is harboring feelings for you ever since the first time you moved here

He reach down the lock from your small door and he lets himself inside

He opens the door and he finds you, still wet from the soapy water, your messy bun is perfectly styled, your hair is sticking onto your skin, you winced at the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes

You heard something behind you, you turned around to see, Eddie, his eyes are like the predator and you're the prey, but he looks menacingly good

You're confused, "Eddie- what are you doing in here?"

He walks towards you, he reaches down to grab your chin, your eyes widen of what he's about to do- he slammed his lips onto yours

My god, he is kissing you, Eddie Munson is kissing you!

You didn't even care you have soapy hands, you kissed him back, you run your hands through his chest and onto his waist

He shivers at your touch, he grabs the plush of your ass while he pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss earning a moan from you

He smirks through the kiss, he holds your waist putting his hands under your damp shirt as he touches your skin, he mewled when you run your fingers through his hair

Both of you, break the kiss, feeling breathless, his eyes filled with lust and yours with desire, he scoops you up and you yelped

Placing you down at the couch, he quickly melts into your touch the moment you pull him from the shoulder as you kiss him burning with love and affection

He palms your breasts and you lock him with your legs, you make out like it was the last days of your life

He kissed your neck, making love bites, giving him more skin as you move your head onto the side

"you smell so good" he whispers to your ear, you clench your legs at his warm breath

"So, do you" you bat your eyes at him and he laughs devilishly

"Keep talking like that, I might ruin you"

"So, destroy me"

He looks at you with daggering stare, he pulls you down and you squealed, he chuckles darkly

He became softer for a sec, he runs circles on your bended knee with him kneeling down between your legs

"Look, I don't want to rush you, sweetheart"

"Eddie, I know you want to eat me, you have my permission" you say with frustration

He raised a brow at you, looking at down at you- eyes with mischief

He slowly unties your shorts, he removes it and puts it down on the floor

"Holy shit" he stares at your soaking wet panties, he laughs at disbelief

"I didn't know you had a effect like this on me, sweet thing" he covers his mouth with hands as he couldn't comprehend the situation

You rolled your eyes as you bring your legs together as you wiggle out your underwear and you threw it at him and he catches it

"I am keeping this" he smirks putting it in his back pocket

He looks down at your naked cunt, his mouth waters at the sight of it- you grew flustered at how he stares at it

"I'm going to take real care for you, darling, don't worry" he assures you by winking

He goes down and he kisses you again, he goes down slowly, his hot breath is on your cunt and you moaned

"I'm not even doing anything yet!" He laughs

"Are you gonna-" you shout angrily

He eats you with no warning, and you gasp- he devours your cunt like a starved man

"O-Oh my god" you breathe heavily

He dips his tongue on your hole, he licks a stripe on your dripping cunt

You look down and he is watching your face contorts in pleasure as you throw your head back and start grinding at his face, he groans at your action

Your legs starts to tremble, he watches you fall apart for him, you can feel the familiar forming on your stomach, you moan wildly

He puts your legs over his shoulders

"Eddie- wait- what are you"

He continues his work by eating you in a new angle and you whimpered

"You're so g-good, Eddie- oh" you kept grinding at his face as he hums in agreement

You can't even speak that you're close

you screamed making the band snap at your core

Ragged breathing, with his mouth agape at the beautiful moment that you squirted at him

You put a hand over your head and you laugh breathlessly "I'm so sorry, Eddie- it just feels too good, I can't help it"

He licks your come and you watch him do it "I knew it, you're delicious"

He puts a finger over your stimulated cunt

"But I'm not done yet" he says with a pointed look on his face

"Eddie- you can't- oh" you protest

"Oh, yes I can, let me hear your sweet voice again" he has that evil look on his eyes, you can't escape from this

He plays with your clit, biting your bottom lip at the sensation

He puts another finger inside of you, he curled it up as he bullies your clit- making you close your legs but Eddie forbids you by doing that as he opens your legs wider

You arch your back, you hold his arms gripping on it for your dear life

"Fuck, Eddie- ah-" you moaned as your face scrunches up in pleasure

He finger fucks you like there's no tomorrow- he pulls it in and out

"Love it when you cry out for help" he smirks while he watches his fingers slip in and out of your pussy, making squelching sounds

"Hear that? sweetheart? That's all for me? I'm so honored"

"Y-yes" you moaned again "It's all just for you"

You hold his wrist as he finger fucks you deeply, making you grind at his fingers

"You're so fucking hot, goddamn" he grunts

He made you come, twice

You screamed his name again as you ride your high

He licks his fingers clean again with his mouth

You mewled while watching him do it

This feeling you're having, you need more, you want more, you can't let him go feeling like this

You reach out to undo his belt but he grabs your wrist

"Woah, there, sweetheart, I'm not going to do that unless you really sure of it" he drew circles on your wrists

Why is he so gentle?

You look straight into his eyes, he cares about you, there's that unreadable look again

"Eddie- please, I want this" you beg

He grins wickedly, he jerk his head towards your bedroom, you nod at him aggressively

He chuckles at your eagerness, he carried you with fine ease, he opens the door, placed you down on the lavender sheets of your bed

He locks the door, you lay down using your elbows to straighten yourself up as you look at him lustfully

He doesn't tear his eyes from yours as he undresses himself, settling only his boxers

He puts himself between your legs, your messy bun is now falling apart as you remove the tie and let it fall down onto your shoulders

The flowery scent from your hair lingers the air, he kisses you again but this time is much more hungrier

He pulls down the straps of your tank top, he palms your breasts again as you reached for the clip behind your back, you unclasped it

Never breaking the kiss as you remove the bra

Here you are completely naked for him, your pussy and your breasts full on display for him

He breaks the kiss just to check you out

"Oh...." He says, as he scratches the back of his neck

You blushed, he stares at you for so long, he chuckles

"My dear, I'm just admiring your beauty" he places his hand over his chest with that chocolate button eyes glimmering with so much kindness

He knows you're impatient so he removes his boxers with your lips apart, you look up from his gaze

"That's- tha- that's not gonna fit" you giggled nervously

"you can, honey- you'll survive" he chuckles evilly

"Just tell me to stop if it hurts okay?"

"Yes"

"Good girl, answering verbally"

You trust him, if you tell him to stop, he'll stop

He picks up his denim pants as he fishes down on its pockets, he has a condom? he bought it?

You push him down playfully using your feet, he laughs

"Do you knew that this is going to happen?" You snorted

"I always bring it, you know, just in case" he chuckles as he wiggle his eyebrows at you

"Who would've thought" you smiled feigning innocence

He kisses you again shutting you up, he slowly grabs his dick directing into your awaiting hole

You felt the tip invading your cunt, you gasp at the contact- you closed your eyes in pleasure

He's bringing himself in, you felt a twinge of pain and pleasure at the same time, but it feels so fucking good

"You okay? sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, just give me a minute"

He kisses your forehead, he smirks when you starting squirming down

You can feel him splitting you open, the moment when every inch of him is now inside of you

"E-Eddie, you can m-move" you stuttered

"Attagirl" he praises you and you rolled your eyes back when he started thrusting

"Jesus, you're so tight" he moans

"Ah- Eddie- please keep going" you grip on his shoulder blades

He keep up in his pace as he slips in and out of you- you look down to see his dick disappearing inside of you and you moaned loudly

You hold onto him became aggressive as he's going faster and faster, your moans turn into a high pitch when he hit that sweet spot of yours

"Deeper" it's the only thing you can say

He watches your breasts bounce up and down as he makes love bites all over your chest and you bite down your bottom lip again, it might bleed at how hard you nibble it

"I think I'm going to stay in your pretty little cunt forever" he says as he places your legs over his shoulders

"Yes, please, you can stay forever" your eyes are heavy-lidded, you're so cock drunk

The moment he starts bottom out at the new position, you gasp and started moaning, your voice is hoarse

"That's it! Eddie- ah" you grip onto the sheets tightly

"You feel so a-amazing" you screamed his name again forming an "0" on your mouth

You arched your back and he can feel your legs shake, your eyes are now prickling with tears

"Aww, my sweet angel crying" he caresses your cheek

"Y-yeah, cause' you feel so good, E-Eddie" you can feel him so deep inside of you, hitting every spot that you didn't know that it could reach

He puts your legs down carefully as he grabs you, you're now straddling on his waist

"Ah- Oh-" you moaned and he laughs but it turns to moan when you started riding him

Your naked bodies pressed together, the warmth of him feels so nice, both foreheads a bit sweaty, you wrap your arms around him as you continue to ride him and he just groans

"Christ- you're good" he kisses your neck, you pulled him back to kiss him sloppily

He starts squeezing your breasts and you just whimpered, you placed your hands over his shoulders

You start grinding him and it brings another flow of arousal

"Eddie- god! Don't you fucking dare move!" You shout out loud

He just nods and licks his lips as he watches from your naked chest to your cunt, still so fucking wet is dripping down the sheets, you grinding him and he just loves it

Eddie brings you down as he fucks you roughly

"Eddie- wha-" you moaned, both skins slapping against each other, you embrace him

He places himself on the crook of your neck as he continues to thrust

The band on your stomach, snapped- you kept saying "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie"

He went undone the same time you screamed

He starts bottoming in and out slowly as you calm down

You kissed his head and you can feel him smiling at your touch

You start caressing his head

"How's that?" He asks turning his face to see you

You hummed "I feel wonderful" you turn your head onto the side, you smiled at him

He carefully peels himself off of you, you seethe at the pain but Eddie is so caring that he cleaned you up knowing that you can't move, your knees might buckle if you try

From your drawer, he grabs clean clothes, an oversized t-shirt and clean pair of underwear

He wears his boxers and goes back to your side, squeezing you tight and you smiled in content

You rest your head against his shoulder, both of you remain in comfortable silence

You're awaiting for a confession but you don't want to push him for it until he breaks it

"I-I have feelings for you, sweetheart, ever since you moved here"

Your eyes are now glossy, you're finally having the man of your dreams

"Me too, Eddie"

He turns to look at you, unbelievable expression sitting on his face

"Really?"

"Yeah"

"You do?"

"I love you, Eddie" you cupped his cheeks

"Oh" he smiles widely as he pulls you even closer

"Kinda wanted to that ever since"

"I'm very glad that you did"

"I just wanna say, you're smoking hot by doing that laundry earlier"

You laughed, "I'm all aware that you're checking me out, Eddie"

He became shy and embarrassed "Oops, I'm so sorry, I hope it doesn't come off like weird or anything, I don't wanna be a creep"

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because I didn't know that you like me that way!"

You giggled "I really really like you that way"

"So, you done all of that on purpose, huh?"

"Yup"

"Luring me in, leading me into your trap"

"Maybe"

He chuckles, "I love you too"

Your eyes flashes with so much adoration and gratefulness, you hugged him and he kisses your lips once more

"I wanna be drenched in yours again" he says as both of you fell asleep on each other's arms

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #agirlwholovesrockstarsfics

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