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kaybreezy3000 · 2 months ago

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A steaming hot and humorous deli Five story, and An Ode To All The Fives We’ve Loved Before.

Written by: @badkitty3000 and @kaybreezy3000

(Rated Mature for Sexually Explicit Content, 6976 words)

Note: All six reader inserts in this one were inspired by characters we wrote in our other stories about Five. But if you haven't read any of these stories, you can still easily enjoy this one. If you find that you want a little more of Five and any one of these lovelies, links will be provided at the end.

Heading across the subway platform towards the deli, Five heard the shrill squeal of a train coming into the station. Thinking it was going to be another version of himself showing up, he slowed his step, letting out a tired sigh. “Here we go again.”

Even before the train was fully stopped, he realized this wasn’t going to be one of his normally depressing encounters. There were six females inside one of the cars, all of them anxiously looking back at him standing under the warmth of the delicatessen's incandescent lights.

He was dumbstruck. There had never been anyone else besides himself on a train before.

His breath caught as the doors began to slide open.

“No way…” he gasped, looking at the girl in front who had a baseball bat slung over her shoulders, her body poised for a fight.

“Five!” she shrieked as she pushed the doors open, kicking one of them aside faster with the heel of one of her checkered patterned boots. Dashing towards him, her wooden bat fell to the ground with a resounding thunk as she threw herself into his waiting arms.

Just then, a loud bark echoed through the subway. Bursting out from between the other girls’ legs, a golden-haired dog bee-lined it for the door of the deli, just as another stunned Five threw it open. A fraction of a second later, that Five was stumbling backwards, getting knocked down by the wild beast. “I missed you too, buddy,” he laughed through his tears as his furry friend affectionately slobbered him.

Next to them, pink and blue pigtails swayed as the first Five lifted the girl in his arms, kissing her anywhere he could plant his lips. Loving it, her smile got bigger and bigger the more frantic he got, and she started giggling even more about it when she looked down at the pair on the ground. “I guess it was easy enough for Mr. Pennycrumb to figure out which one of you was his master. Just look at him…he’s so happy he and his daddy finally get to go home.”

“Home?” the deli’s Greeter Five questioned, sounding heartbreakingly confused as the rest of the girls on the train came past, worriedly making their way towards the welcoming lights of the restaurant, all of them hoping their Fives were there too.

Inside, Five was behind the counter, doing his usual inventory of ingredients for his famous pastrami sandwich when he looked up to see the most beautiful sight he’d seen in a very long time. He could hardly believe his eyes and it took him a few seconds to realize she was real.

Skidding around the corner from the kitchen while trying to hide the tears in his eyes, he grabbed his wife around her waist, reeling her in. With hands on each side of her face, he kissed her so desperately that he forgot to breathe. Finally, he pulled away, smiling lovingly as she started to cry.

“I can’t believe it’s really you. I’ve missed you so much, my love,” he choked out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “What are you doing here? When I ended up here, I thought I’d lost you and our entire world because our timeline was destroyed.”

“I missed you, too,” she breathlessly replied. “Things were a little all over the place with the timeline problem thing, but it’s okay now. We’re here to bring you home. I didn’t know there was an entire restaurant filled with you when I set out, but the girls and I ended up on the train together and it quickly became clear we were all in the same boat, and all of you were too. As crazy as all that is, when we realized where you all ended up, it was still a little surprising to say the least.”

“How did you even find this place? The odds of coming across it are astronomical.”

His wife rolled her eyes. “Really, Five? There’s like twenty of you here and not one of you can read a goddamn map? Together, the girls and I figured it out in about fifteen minutes.”

“Oh…” Five muttered.

She smiled and kissed his pouty face, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. “Well, it’s a good thing for you, and all these other boys, that before you got stuck here, you stole the hearts of the smartest, most badass women around because we’re here to save all your asses.” She looked around at all the Fives that looked like they were either about to have a breakdown or were in the middle of one. “And just in the knick of time, it seems,” she added.

While being devoured by the Five that had been previously pouring coffee, his girlfriend stopped him mid-kiss to say, “Hold on… you guys are stuck here because you don’t know how to read a map?”

“We know how to read maps,” her Five scoffed back. “We just don’t know how to read this particular map.”

With his head down as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, another Five came in carrying a bin of clean dishes. Irritated that nobody was helping him he said, “You don’t know your ass from a hole in the ground, Waiter Five, and hey Brisket, you may be a worthless genius like the rest of us, but you’re letting the sandwiches burn!”

“I don’t give a fuck about the sandwiches, you moron,” Brisket Five snapped back.

Brisket’s wife quirked a brow. “Brisket?” she questioned, letting his strange nickname roll off her tongue with seductive playfulness, only then just realizing her husband was wearing a chef’s apron.

“Are you surprised? You know I’m the king of the kitchen,” he said, giving her a cocky smirk.

Hearing the allure of the feminine voice questioning Brisket Five, the distracted bus-boy finally looked up, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“HOLY SHIT!” he gasped as the tub of plates in his hands hit the floor. Moving almost as fast as if he’d blinked, he leapt over the booth between him and the luminously pale girl that was grinning at him with two shiny tips of sharp white studding into her lower lip.

“Hey there, you little horny devil,” the cheeky looking vampire girl snickered as he slid up to her, his boyish mess of dark hair all over the place as his entire body shook like a leaf with excitement. “Five, sweetie, there’s so many of you here…”

Looking over at the lonely looking Five in the corner booth with his mannequin, the vampire’s fang descended a little more.

“Awww,” she cooed as she looked back at her own Five. “He’s so cute. He’s just like you were. Can I maybe have a little nibble on him, honey?”

“Hell no. I am the only abomination you get to suck on,” Bus-Boy Five dreamily replied, his soft green eyes luring her right back.

Interrupting their reunions, and their conversation about the map, the bathroom door flung open, and another Five carrying a mop came out, immediately directing his shock at the girl the Waiter Five was once again doing his best to suffocate with kisses. “Hey!” he yelled. “Are you that chick who used to fuck Klaus?

Tossing his mop in the supply closet, the Janitor Five moved in closer, plopping his butt down on the tabletop next to a Five who was sitting there, contemplatively shuffling a deck of cards as he watched the bizarre scene unfolding.

At the mention of Klaus, Waiter Five gave his girl one more peck, then a sly grin as he said, “Those guys don’t know the whole story. All they need to know is that the Hargreeves with the best dick won. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

The girl that ironically used to own a coffee house shook her head at her now-waiter boyfriend as she stretched up, planting a big kiss on his lips. “You could say that. Or, more accurately, I won. I’ve been missing a lot of things about you, including your dick,” she teased while pulling him by the belt loops until their hips were flush.

A few feet away, a shapely woman with jet-black hair slid into a booth. The bells on her red headband rung cheerfully as her bottom bounced on the vinyl seat. The familiar sound made the slumped down man that was sitting there lift his head.

“Oh, Five…what did you do?” she soothed as she snuggled up next to him while placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

He looked over, eyeing her up and down with a foggy expression before the light suddenly went on. His face immediately relaxed with relief. “Oh my god…it’s you! How are you here? Fuck. Did I die and go to heaven?”

She shook her head, the same chipper smile on her face, just like always. Leaning in to give him a tender kiss, Drunk Five’s angelic girlfriend placed a warm hand on his thigh. “I will explain all of that later. Right now I think we need to get you sobered up.”

Her Five nodded slowly, his eyes becoming misty. “I’m sorry, I went a little crazy with the booze again,” he admitted, gesturing to the bottle on the table. “I’ve been a mess since I lost you.” His gaze drifted downward to her low-cut top and the perfect tits that were spilling out. “Damn, I missed you.”

Leaning in, his lips tickling the shell of his girlfriend’s ear, Waiter Five whispered, “I’m not sure how fucked-up Drunk Five got a nice girl like that.”

Looping her arms around his waist she smiled. “Because she’s an actual angel,” she replied. “Like from heaven. They had a real life Christmas Carol situation and that’s what helped him finally get his shit together.”

“Huh,” Waiter Five hummed before he started kissing her again, already not caring about the other alcoholic version of him’s issues.

As Greeter Five came inside, joining the group, one of the Fives nearest the door swooped in, taking the hand of the girl next to him, gently kissing it.

Instantly overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture, as well as the sight of all the other Fives, she turned to her Five, mouth agape. “Wow… I thought you had some kinky things going on inside your brain, but compared to you…” She started to crack-up. “He was just thinking about eating pastrami off my ass!”

Looking beyond flustered by her calling him out, the other Five quickly backed away, stammering, “Wh-what is she, a mind reader?”

Positioning himself in front of her, Greeter Five’s already menacing expression turned even more threatening. “Yeah, dumbass, she is and she can alter your emotions, so I’d watch out if I were you or you might find yourself falling in love with a jar of sauerkraut. And you won't be eating pastrami or anything else off her ass as long as I’m here, so fuck off unless you’d like an acid burned dick and that spatula over there shoved up your ass.”

“You know that’s not how my powers work,” the petite blonde corrected as her hands slid around the Greeter Five’s trim waist. Clearly already aware of that, and enjoying her magical touch way too much, his grin grew and he started to lower his mouth to hers again.

Seeing that he was out of his element, and not about to win this one, the food fetish Five bolted out the door, prompting Janitor Five to stroll over, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Since you are the biggest nut job in here, it makes sense you’d be dating a sexy Harley Quinn look alike,” he said, distracting the couple.

“I mean no offense, sweetheart,” Janitor Five continued while suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at Greeter Five’s girl.

She smiled.

“I think you’re hot,” he added as his cool green eyes sparkled triumphantly. “Just so you know, I am way less of a headcase than him, and I am not at all scared of letting you play around inside my head, or my pants.”

“Fuck you!” Greeter Five growled.“Keep your grimy toilet cleaning hands off of her, shithead! She’s my wife!”

“Woah, settle down there, ‘Mr. I started The Commission But Got Downgraded To The Doorman At A Deli.’ I am just trying to point out that I am a much lesser dipshit than you, and let the lady here know that you are not her only option when it comes to better Fives.”

“For fucks sake! We all know that I am the best Five in here!” Greeter Five loudly yelled back, as he lunged at him.

Catching her husband by the coat tails, the comic book character look alike’s fingers brushed against his lower back. The fight almost instantly forgotten, Greeter Five turned and lowered his forehead to hers, and within seconds, she had his mind and body coming back down to a much less murderous state of arousal, but it was already too late. That arrogant outburst started all the other Fives bickering and glaring at each other, sizing each other up even though they were all the exact same size.

No longer involved in the hostilities because he was caught in his wife’s euphoric spell, Greeter Five scooped her up, pinning her against the window next to the entryway.

“I wish I could kill all these pathetic bastards,” he breathed as he nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck.

“No you don’t. You’re a good man, Five,” she corrected.

Happily mind fucked and once again paying no attention to anything else other than the piece of ass he had in his hands, Greeter Five crushed his lips against his wife’s, inadvertently sliding her back along the window glass until they rammed into another three-peice suit wearing Five that had been standing near the door since his girlfriend had come in and claimed him.

That Five had been basking in the pleasure of having his shaggy hair played with while the woman in front of him teased her hands down the front of his pants. Not happy with the Greeter Five for interrupting them, he angrily moved away from him, barking, “Get a room, asshole!”

Greeter Five snickered. “Why?” he questioned through the fringe of his hair as he grinned at the other Five. “I don’t care if you fuckers watch.”

Ready to own that, he shamelessly started rutting the prominent bulge in his pants into his giggling telepath.

Seeing and hearing all this madness, Brisket Five’s wife started to get a wild gleam in her eye as a million kinky thoughts about the vast number of identical, sexy men in the room filled her with naughty ideas.

Not nearly as fazed by all the bullshit happening around him, Brisket Five took her chin in his hand, guiding her face back to his until she was looking up at his piercing green eyes that could read her like an open book. With a subtle shake of his head, he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t fucking think so, darling,” he said, his voice low with warning.

She batted her lashes at him innocently. “What are you going to do about it, Daddy?”

At the mention of his dirty, yet fitting nickname, the other women perked up, dodging their own Five’s kisses and disappointed faces as they shared amused glances with one another.

Still getting publicly dry humped, only now over on the table edge in front of a Five that was still trying to sit there and do his crossword, Greeter Five’s girl chirped, “That’s amazing! So it’s not just my Five that likes the daddy thing!”

None of the Fives needed to say it. Their intense glares directed at each other said it loud and clear for all of them.

I’M THE ONLY DADDY HERE!

“That’s it. We’re going to settle who is the ruler of this deli once and for all!” Greeter announced, right before sliding his girl’s booty shorts towards him so he could push her backside down on the table.

“Sounds like you want to put your money where your mouth is,” taunted Cards Five as he continued to nonchalantly shuffle through his deck.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” the Greeter confirmed, ripping the red and blue shorts down his woman’s legs as he licked his lips and lowered like he was about to dive face first into her pussy-which he was.

“Oh, you are on! Get ready to lose, assholes,” yelled Waiter Five as he picked his girl up with her legs wrapping around his waist.

As there were more grumbles and boastful claims coming from the Fives, the girls glanced around at the roomful of horny, angry men they had on their hands. Brisket Five’s and Greeter Five’s wives took one look at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking.

“Alright, ladies,” Brisket’s wife called out. “We can’t bring these horny old bastards home in the state they’re in. I think we should let them have their fun with us and then we can get out of here safely. Sound good?”

The women all nodded in agreement and just as fast they started to get pawed at even more aggressively.

Having witnessed all of this, the most aloof looking Five who had been sitting in the corner booth, lifted his glass, clinking it with the one sitting in front of his beloved mannequin. “I’m sorry, darling, you might want to shut your eyes.”

Openingly admiring the butt of the girl with the other Five that had been over by the door, Janitor Five asked, “How’d you get so lucky to hit an ass like that?”

Smirking, the Five in question leaned up against the wall next to the jukebox while pulling his lady away from the Janitor. “It’s a long story but it started when I became a pervert that was obsessed with spying on her while I jerked off. Then there was an accidental parking lot abduction incident, and after that, it just sort of happened.”

“You mean, first you tied me up, then I tied you up and set you straight,” she corrected, tugging his tie, which earned her a quiet whimper.

“Oh, so you're into perverted creeps?” Janitor Five said, trying to get a rise out of her Five but he got nothing out of either of them other than more of her hands going down her perverted boyfriend’s pants.

Seeing again that he was going to be left high and dry, the Janitor Five moved on, selecting a perfect song from the jukebox next to them for the fuck-fest that was about to commence. He then turned to Drunk Five who was still in his booth and sneered. “You might as well count yourself out, dickhead. You won't even be able to get it up.”

With an indignant snort, Drunk Five pulled his cheery angel onto his lap, running his hands up and down her bare thighs as she ground down on his rapidly hardening crotch.

“What do you think, honey?” he rasped. “Is he right?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, actually,” she laughed, leaning in for a deep kiss.

Cards Five, not at all interested in the sex part of all this, saw his opportunity elsewhere. He turned to the Janitor Five giving him a slanted smile.

“We’re going to make a killing,” he said before hopping up on one of the unoccupied tables with the deli already becoming rowdier from all the couples in various compromising positions and locations around him.

“Listen up, shit heads! Here’s the rules!” Cards Five called out. “The Five who can get their lady off the most times in five minutes wins and will be declared the official BEST FIVE! And…no helping your guys by touching yourselves ladies, or you’re out.”

“Awww,” Janitor Five huffed.

Ignoring his disappointment, Cards Five gestured for him to start collecting the bets, then he pulled his sleeve up and set his stopwatch.

Holding his arm out to show the other Fives, he received the desired nods of approval from all.

Not needing any more encouragement to begin, as soon as Cards Five yelled out ‘go’, every Five who had the option started getting to work, determined to win his very important title.

Amid a flurry of coat jackets being hurriedly shrugged off and ties being thrown through the air, their perfect song selection cued up.

As the first few staccato notes of “Eye of the Tiger” filled the room, there was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the over-sexed men.

The competition had officially begun.

With his vampire girlfriend at his side, Bus-Boy Five took off with her towards the bathroom, entering the small tiled room on the heels of the Pervert Five and his pretty dominator. Shoving him into the wall, the small but assertive female directed her man to drop his pants. Already looking so excited that he might explode, he didn’t argue. His pants fell around his ankles, the metal of his belt clanking against the floor as she yanked his underwear down, letting his length spring free.

With her shirt getting ripped open and the tiny pearl buttons tinkering across the counter, the vampire sank her fangs into her Five, moaning as he hungrily nipped his teeth across her porcelain neck.

Catching the door before it swung closed on them, Janitor Five propped it open, yelling, “There’s no room for modesty here, boys! You better give us a good show in there!”

Over in their booth, doing just that, Drunk Five was already getting the full religious experience with his personal angel.

Straddling his lap, she quickly unbuckled his pants and shoved her hand inside, grabbing hold of his hardened cock. “Even though you fell off the wagon, you know I’ll always let you plow my field,” the angel quipped with a smile.

He pulled her in for a rough kiss, a hand on the back of her neck as she pumped her fist. “Enough of your bad jokes, sweetheart, right now I need you to ride my dick,” he murmured before groaning loudly, “Let’s show these assholes what we can do.”

“You got it, baby,” she purred next to his ear as she pushed her panties aside and sunk herself onto his waiting dick.

With her tits bouncing in front of his face, and her hot sleeve moving fast over his cock, Drunk Five was in a Heaven made just for him. Clutching his shoulders, the angel threw her head back as his heels dug into the floor and he pounded up into her, her broken cries proving he was still a contender.

Simultaneously, on the other side of the deli, Brisket Five was not-so-gently squeezing his wife’s tight, round ass as he aggressively sucked at her neck.

“Five,” she breathed out desperately as she clawed at the back of his shirt after having flung his chef’s apron on the floor. She took a quick peek over his shoulder, scouting the room. “I think we’re out of fuckable places.”

Pulling back with a mischievous grin that always lit a fire in his wife’s pants, Five shook his head. “Not necessarily.”

She let out a short laugh as she worked as fast as she could to get his shirt unbuttoned and pushed off his arms. Running her hands down his firm, bare chest she looked up at him. “You’re going to fuck me in a closet, aren’t you?”

As Brisket Five quickly hurried his wife along to his secret sex spot, Waiter Five brushed past, heading in the same direction.

“I’m calling the kitchen, dipshit, so don’t even bother,” he snarled at Brisket Five.

When he didn’t get the expected spiteful reply in response, Waiter Five stopped and turned. The chef version of himself was not actually trying to bone his woman in the kitchen. Instead, he was continuing in the direction of the supply closet.

“Where the fuck are you going? Scared your girl might see what she’s missing out on?” Waiter jeered, even as his girlfriend was pulling her legs tighter around his waist, rubbing against his hard crotch. His hands gripped her ass harder as he pushed her against the doorway of the kitchen, jerking his hips against her until she let out a beautifully needy moan.

“Think again, dumbshit,” Brisket barked back before unceremoniously shoving his wife into the closet and slamming the door behind him.

“That guy is a total whack-job,” Waiter Five said to his girl before continuing inside, perching her on the food-prep counter.

“How about you focus less on him and more on fucking me,” she suggested, snaking her hand down the front of his pants as she rubbed the large package that was tenting there.

With a quiet grunt, he let his eyes fall shut, his expression one of total bliss as he grinned back at her. “Good idea.”

As she hastily began opening his fly, Five worked on yanking her pants down. Knowing his dirty-minded coffee girl inside and out, he shoved his hand between her legs, letting his long fingers work their magic.

“Daddy knows what you like, doesn’t he, sweetheart?” he seductively taunted.

At the first “Ffff-uuu…yesss” that she whimpered, he knew he had her right where he wanted, and he continued to finger her while she rocked her hips into his hand and pulled at the front of his shirt.

In the closet, Brisket’s wife was pushed roughly against a wall as he flattened her body, attacking her with bruising kisses. With his hands gripping her wrists, he shoved her arms over her head, pinning them to the wall as Janitor Five’s mop went clattering to the floor.

“Panties off. Now!” Five ordered in a harsh but quiet tone, knowing for a fact that this was a sure fire way to get her dripping wet.

Freeing her wrists, she did exactly what he said, dropping her shorts and underwear and kicking them off somewhere in the dim light of the closet. With the sound of his wife’s harsh breathing riling him up even more, Five anxiously unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor.

Lifting one of her legs, holding it up against his hip, he pressed his rock-hard cock between her legs, not entering her as his shaft rubbed against her wet slit.

As he continued to rut into her, faster and harder but not actually fucking her, he felt the satisfying shudder of her body against his. “That’s one, but I think we can do better than that, don’t you think, angel?” he teased.

Also about to witness a second orgasm, sitting over at his booth with Greeter Five licking and lapping his wife’s clit as his fingers squelched in and out of her quivering cunt, Crossword Five lowered a hand under the table, discreetly palming the tightly stretched fabric covering his crotch.

With his fingers thrusting and wife gasping, her body bucking on the table in front of them, Greeter Five looked up, his face proudly shining as he glanced at their booth buddy. “Might as well whip it out and go for it, you dirty bastard. She likes to watch.”

At the sound and sight of Crossword Five’s fly zipping down, the woman on the table between the two shameless men cried out, “Oh, Fivvvvve. Fucck, yes! I love you!”

“That’s right, say it louder, beautiful. Let these assholes get a taste of what they are missing!” her husband growled, right before grinding his face between her legs again.

In the corner booth, not at all impressed, the Five sitting with Dolores picked up his empty margarita, eyeing it like it had personally offended him. “I’m not like that, am I?” he questioned, to which the mannequin next to him held her Mona Lisa smile, but only until he looked over and cutely smirked. “Oh. You’re right. I am like that,” Five chuckled, clearly stewed.

In the bathroom two minutes earlier, the Pervert Five’s head fell back with a bang against the wall the moment his girlfriend’s lips began to circle around the dripping tip of his waiting erection.

A few feet away, flipping around his vampire, Bus-Boy Five was about to do some sucking of a totally different kind as he lined himself up to the smooth white ass waiting for him to destroy it. Fisting the length of the vamp’s hair as the tip of his cock prodded the coolness of her slippery folds, his words came out ominously dark. “You’re all I’ll ever want. This time I want forever.”

“Then take it,” his vampire moaned as Five’s lips began to move along the exposed side of her milky throat. Looking like a man whose soul needed saving, using a hand to guide the thickened head of his cock where he needed it, penetrating all her senses at once, his blunted teeth slowly began to sink in.

A guttural moan reverberated from Five’s chest as his mouth filled with the salvation of her bittersweet taste.

Mouth agape, her fingers clenching the edge of the countertop as Five’s tongue moved over her broken skin, the vampire’s body, shaking with lust, jerked back, forcing him to bottom out.

“So-so fucking tight,” he deliriously groaned, just before thrusting his dick inside her again with much more supernatural vigor.

Looking up as he fucked, his chocolate locks hanging in his eyes and his lip still bleeding from one of her love bites, Five grinned at his reflection in the mirror, the wicked gleam in his eyes matching the sinful glow in hers lovinginly looking back at him.

Not to be out done by the debauchery happening next to them, the other Five helplessly gasped a string of profanities as he clenched his hand on the back of his girlfriend’s head so he could better slam his dick down her throat.

Interrupting the gagging and sniffling, whines and animalistic grunts and growls streaming out of the bathroom, pointing at the violent blow job in progress, Janitor Five barked out, “Disqualified! You’re supposed to be getting her off, not the other way around, you selfish dumbass!”

Coming fully undone, unloading in her mouth with his hips twitching even more spastically with each new wave of ecstasy, dumbass Five hissed and moaned, “Fuuu-aaaahh- This feels so ff- Mmfff- I don’t fff-ucking care.”

As Waiter Five’s girlfriend was coming down from her finger-fuck climax in the kitchen, he was already preparing for the next round. Stroking his leaking cock, he positioned his swollen tip at her soaking wet opening. As he slammed into her, her head fell back, knocking against the metal pots and pans that were hanging behind them. Each clatter of metal was accompanied by a loud moan as Waiter Five used all of his strength to give his girl the fuck of her life.

Alerted by all the noise, Janitor Five poked his head through the kitchen’s service window. “Hey, you better not drip any jizz on that floor, I just mopped it.”

Not slowing down for even a second while he continued to rail his girl as hard as possible, Waiter Five glanced over his shoulder at the dickhead in the doorway. “Says the guy that cums in the coleslaw.”

Smiling and mouthing ‘True’ to the girl being nailed where their food was prepared, Janitor Five witnessed a second Waiter-delivered orgasm. It was followed a few seconds later by a loud groan and some cursing as his counterpart came hard inside of her, the clanging of the pots and pans slowly quieting as his body stilled.

Back in the closet, Brisket Five’s wife clung to the rattling supply shelves as his hips slapped against her ass and his dick slammed inside her from behind. Sweating and out of breath, expertly maneuvering his fingers on her clit, she started coming hard.

“Fuck, Fiiive!!” she screamed as she bucked her ass backward and rolls of toilet paper rained down on them.

“That’s two,” he panted heavily as she tried to regain her composure enough to stand on her wobbly legs. “One more, darling?”

Grinning widely, pulling her flush with his chest, his cock still-hard, his wife nodded and smiled knowingly; just another confirmation that the two were meant for each other.

As he went in for a kiss, a hand tangled in her hair, she stumbled forward, causing Five to stagger backward into the door. The two came flying out of the supply closet with a giant crash as they fell into a mostly-naked heap onto the floor.

There was a very brief pause as everyone else in the deli looked in their direction, but they were quickly ignored as the other Fives got back down to business.

“One minute left, boys…let’s wrap it up!” yelled Cards Five.

Determined not to lose, Brisket Five pushed his wife onto her back and crawled on top, not giving a shit that they were laid out for the entire deli to see. Thrusting his cock back into her still-wet cunt, Five let out a long groan. Going at it hard as he held himself up on his forearms, he rammed into her at just the right angle. From there, his wife’s third orgasm came quickly, allowing him to fill her up with an impressive stream of cum.

Standing near the kitchen service window, Janitor Five slammed his palm down onto the order-up bell to signal the latest win. “Another one for Brisket!” he yelled. “That’s three!”

As Brisket Five and his wife laid on their backs, chests heaving, he grabbed a nearby discarded suit coat and threw it over her bottom half. With satisfied smiles, they lazily high-fived one another on a job well done.

Realizing he needed to do something fast, Greeter Five worked his hips overtime as his wife’s legs draped around the narrow of his waistcoat.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Janitor Five chanted along with him as he dangled over the booth, watching their Greeter going at it, his dick working like a piston engine.

In a frenzy, beating his meat hard, Crossword Five let out a broken moan.

Only taking his eyes off his prize long enough to see that Cards Five was counting down the final seconds on his fingers, Greeter Five frantically gasped, “Touch him, NOW!”

As the telepath’s hand fell into Crossword Five’s free hand, his face pinched in ecstasy and spatters of cum flung from his rapidly pumping fist, landing all over the tabletop.

To the backdrop of Janitor Five loudly singing, ‘Rising up to the challenge of our rivals,’ Greeter Five’s wife’s eyes began to roll back in her head and her body began to tighten and turn to mush all over again.

Looking like a madman, Greeter Five kept at it, thrusting his throbbing cock in and out of her trembling hole as he filled her with load after load of pent up seed.

“Yes! We got this in the bag!” Janitor Five exclaimed, obnoxiously clapping his hands together over the awe inspiring spectacle of the three exhibitionists simultaneously climaxing.

Turning back and forth between the two Fives who appeared to be at a tie, Cards Five held up his watch for his betting buddies to see. “It’s…TIME!” he shouted.

Either not hearing that it was over, or simply not caring, Bus-Boy Five and his vampire girlfriend burst out of the bathroom with him carrying her like she was his front backpack. Unnaturally floating past everyone, he kept at it, impaling her, his phantomlike showmanship making it abundantly clear he wasn’t going to stop and he didn’t give a damn who won the fuck competition.

Just then, the bell on the door chimed as Old Five walked in wearing his dapper gray suit and hat. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on in here!” he gasped in horror as the undead couple disappeared through the doorway behind him.

Kissing his wife languidly as his softening dick wetly slipped out of her, Greeter Five began to laugh. “Busted, beautiful. I saw that,” he said, taunting her as she dizzily eyed-up the older gentleman. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, still treasuring her with gentle brushes of his lips against her flushed cheeks.

“What?” she said as she grinned and pulled his pants around him, re-fastening his belt. “You give an amazing mustache ride. You can’t blame a girl for wanting to feel the tickle of your sexy old man whiskers for old time’s sake.”

The line between Greeter Five’s brows deepened with distaste as Old Five looked his half naked wife up and down, his mostly whitened brows going all the way to his hairline because he was so floored by what she just said.

Chuckling at Greeter Five’s sour expression, Janitor Five started to clear some of the scattered dishes on their table since their bus-boy was currently preoccupied doing vampire things. “Are you going to spank her for saying that, or do you want me to since you look a little spent?” he conversationally offered.

“No thank you. I’ll take care of it later,” Greeter Five politely chuckled as his wife pinched his butt.

As the rest of the Fives and their girls were still lounging around in various states of droopy eyed post coital bliss, twirling his wife’s panties on his index finger, Greeter Five smiled smugly. “As I said before all of this, I am, and always was, the winner here.”

Not having that, Brisket Five, helping his wife up off the floor, chimed in, “No. It’s a tie. Everyone heard my girl screaming for me at least three times. Twice in the closet and the last just now.”

Tensions rising again, arguing about how to divide the money, the betting Five’s started in on each other.

“Well, this has been interesting,” Old Five grumbled from where he was sitting in one of the back booths, his hat resting next to him as he sipped his coffee. “I can’t believe what a moron I used to be.”

Before picking up his book, the old man’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he gave Greeter Five’s wife a flirty wink. Getting one back, he reached over, dropping a quarter in the jukebox.

Missing the enamored look on his wife’s face this time since his focus was on his nemesis, Greeter Five said, “Whatever. See you later, loser.”

Brisket Five’s smarmy grin deepened. “You only hit three because you are a cheater, shit head.”

About to say something else ridiculous to the other him, a finger pressed against Greeter Five’s lips, shushing him. Her mind willing him to shut his trap, the seemingly harmless blonde began softly singing along with the jukebox and his eyes instantly glossed over.

Let ‘em say we're crazy, I don’t care about that…Put your hand in my hand baby, don’t ever look back…

“What a pussy,” Brisket Five laughed at the other him’s inability to see that he’d been silenced.

Sighing, his wife’s head moved back and forth in reprimand.

“What?” he questioned, as if he didn't already know.

Grinning like an idiot as the song that had so much meaning to him played, Greeter Five, having forgotten what he was going on about, allowed his clever wife to tow him towards the door like a puppy on a leash. Following their lead, the Five who still owed his girlfriend for her world-class BJ, and a much more sober Five and his angel, happily made their way out with Waiter Five and his coffee girl not far behind. Brisket and his wife brought up the rear, his arm draped over her shoulder.

As all of the couples made their way out of the deli, every one of the Fives was looking forward to finally getting back to the places where they had first learned what it meant to be truly loved.

Seeing that their only reliable cook was now leaving them, Janitor Five threw his hands in the air as he yelled out, “Hey, Brisket, what the fuck are we supposed to eat now?”

Turning around and seeing his signature apron lying on the floor, Brisket Five scooped it up. With a crooked grin, he flipped his hair out of his eyes and tossed it at the deli’s biggest asshole. “Why not try eating a dick?”

After the doors of the train closed, and the more fortunate Fives were on their way, Janitor looked over at Cards Five and shrugged as if considering that.

Turning to go back inside as he laughed, then began belting out, “AND…WE can build this dream TOGETHER, standing strong forever, NOTHINGS GONNA STOP US NOW! AND if this-”

As they heard the sound of another train coming into the station, he stopped.

With that unexpected surprise, not long later, all of the remaining Fives finally found their happiness, too.

Thank you all for reading this, and for all your support through our many, many crazy Five stories. ❤️

To read Kitty's origin stories for Brisket Five, Waiter Five, and Drunk Five either visit this master list or hit the A03 links below.

(Brisket) Halo Series

(Waiter Five) 'Love In The Time of Cholera and Coffee

(Drunk Five) It's a Wonderful Life, Five Hargreeves

To read Breezy's origin stories for Greeter Five, Vampy Five, and Pervert Five either hit my master list or the A03 links below:

(Greeter Five) Paramore (The Umbrella Academy) 3-part series

(Vampy Five) 'The Devil Within'

(Pervert Five) 'Bad Things'

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rdr2xreader · 11 days ago

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“There’s no denying any longer. He likes to think about you. Mainly about how quick he could get you to scream his name and forget everyone else.”

Rating: NSFW, Smut

CW: Low Honor Arthur, dirty thoughts, jacking off, gender neutral reader, top!Arthur Morgan, bottom!reader

Ship: Arthur Morgan/Reader

Arthur Morgan does not do romance.

Not after his failed relationship with Mary, who broke his heart to marry some guy her father actually approved of.

He took a turn after that, admittedly, having one night stands with anyone that glanced his way to fill the hole she left behind and getting drunk off his ass.

He robbed and killed as he saw fit.

Unhinged, Dutch called him. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Who was Dutch to judge anyways?

The pattern continued— getting drunk followed by a one night stand, followed by robbing and killing in the morning— until Hosea stumbled back into camp with you in tow.

“Nearly killed me,” Hosea had laughed. You managed to rob him, nearly killed him, and he liked you enough to bring you back to camp.

Dutch liked you, too. Everyone did.

Expect for Arthur.

You’d annoy him into bringing you along for jobs, to hunt, to go to town when camp got too stuffy. You wouldn’t leave him alone for whatever reason. In doing so, you forced him to break his usual pattern, but his attitude didn’t change.

He was still angry, but he didn’t kill innocent people and didn’t get so drunk and never spent a night with a woman again. How could he when you followed him like a lost dog?

Even when you weren’t physically there, you sure were mentally. Always watching like a hawk does it prey.

He got pent up after a while, used to having shameless hookups weekly, and found himself unable to take it any longer after losing his shit at Marston after a job gone wrong. He made camp hidden within the trees where nobody would find him and dealt with the issue himself.

He tried picturing a random woman as he wrapped his hand around his cock; nothing. He tried picturing some girls from the gang (Abigail, Molly, Mary-Beth, Sadie even!), and even that didn’t work.

Until his mind wandered to you.

His cock twitched in his hand as he thought about what he could do in order to shut you up and to leave him alone. Unwillingly, his hand started to jerk faster as he got into it.

He’d picture fucking your mouth deep and rough, making you take his cock all the way. And maybe he pictured you swallowing his seed like it was the best thing you ever tasted. Then he’d fuck you properly; slow at first, make you beg and plead for more before transitioning into a much more faster and rougher style.

In short, you’d forget your name. Forget everyone else existed but him.

Arthur grunted, spilling in his hand.

There’s no denying any longer.

He likes to think about you. Mainly about how quickly he could get you to scream his name and forget everyone else.

He wondered if you’d be interested in a benefits relationship since you won’t stop following him.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #low honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut

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wheneverfeasible · 3 months ago

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Inspired by this post courtesy of @steddiecameraroll

wc: 1.3k || rating: E || cw: drug/alcohol use || summary: Steve loses a bet. Pre-Steddie rivals-to-lovers. Ambiguously takes place in a S1 AU.

🔞🔞🔞

“Fffuuckk…”

The word was drawn out, breathy, and cracking in that perfectly wrecked way that had Eddie’s pulse throbbing in his jeans. His mouth had long since gone dry at the sight, his eyes never wavering.

It had started as a bet, a dare, something between two dudes who had had a little too much weed, a little too much beer, and it had been humorous at the time. Sure, Eddie felt a little guilty about it considering his own feelings towards the guy, but Steve had been game for it, so…whatever. He hadn’t really expected Steve to lose the bet after all…

The wet schlick of Steve’s hand only added to the sound of shuddering breaths, the gasping whines as he chased the end, his neck arched back in pleasure. Legs spread wide to give Eddie full view.

“Beat that, King Steve!” Eddie crowed as he landed on his feet, wiping his wet mouth dripping with beer with his whole forearm, eyes sparkling in delight.

Harrington just scoffed from where he was standing nearby, hip cocked out with his arms folded over his chest. He rolled his eyes mockingly. “Please. That’s not even close to my record. I can take you down easily, Munson.”

“Oh yeah, big boy?” Eddie sneered, but there was no heat to his words. “Bet you can’t.”

A competitive streak sparkled in Harrington’s eyes, dropping his arms to stalk up to Eddie and pushing his finger into his chest. “Oh yeah? Wanna put your money where your mouth is, Munson? Let’s bet on it. I win, I get free weed for the rest of the school year.”

This announcement was met with resounding cheers from their audience, but Eddie wasn’t paying attention to them. He was paying attention to the warmth of Harrington’s finger against his chest, the warm breath that wafted over his face that already smelled like beer and Eddie’s weed, the way Harrington’s eyes were lit with mirth and a hint of friendliness towards the town freak. His lips were curled into a smirk of his own and Eddie wanted to lick it.

Eddie caught Harrington’s wrist where his finger was still pressed into Eddie’s chest, pulling it off him to tug Harrington closer. “You so confident you’re gonna win?” Eddie snarked, a part of him telling him to cool his jets before Harrington remembers he crashed his party after selling his product instead of leaving, but the weed and the beer rushing through him from his keg stand wouldn’t listen.

“Then, let’s make it something truly terrifying.” Eddie leaned in to whisper his prize if Harrington lost in his ear…

“Oh god,” Steve whimpered, and Eddie could only watch the pearly flood leaking from Steve, dribbling over his fingers as his hand moved faster, squeezing at the base with a deep moan.

Eddie could feel an answering patch of wetness in his boxers, making him glad for his black jeans at the moment. He shifted ever so slightly in the chair pulled up to the foot of Steve’s bed, where the other boy was propped up against the pillows and short headboard.

He ached to touch, to press the heel of his hand where he throbbed in his jeans, but he only stared, watching Steve with a continued smirk, legs spread out as he lounged back. Even for all of his displayed nonchalance, however, he couldn’t stop the flush in his cheeks as he watched Steve, nor the hungry look in his eyes.

Harrington jerked back at Eddie’s words, staring at him with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth. He was silent and still for just long enough that terror started to fill Eddie’s booze and weed drenched mind, and he was just about to laugh it off like a joke, to squash his stupid crush down down down, when Harrington moved.

The other boy closed his mouth, cleared his throat, and shook Eddie’s hand off his wrist. His eyes dragged over Eddie before he crossed his arms again and smirked. “You know what, Munson. You’ve got yourself a deal. I’m not King for nothing,” he said with another scoffing roll of his eyes. “I always get what I want.”

Harrington moved over towards the keg without another word, deftly let his teammates hoist him up, and the count began.

“Fuck,” Steve breathily gasped again, his hips making small thrusting motions as his feet dug into the bed below him, giving him the room he needed. His free hand was, amazingly enough, roaming over his chest, lightly tugging at his own chest hair with another moan.

The moonlight filtered in through his open windows, casting his tanned body in a spotlight for his audience of one. Steve’s sweat glistened, the sheen of his shiny and wet tip like a beacon for Eddie’s eyes. At least until Steve’s other hand drifted down, skating his navel, over his hip, and skimmed over his balls.

Harrington didn’t make it. It was close, literally just a single count away, and then he had to drop the nozzle in defeat.

Eddie won.

When Steve’s fingers slid lower, slipping between his cleft to touch the most intimate part of himself, Eddie couldn’t keep his own gasping moan between his teeth. If Eddie had thought Steve might have forgotten he was on display, that was immediately disabused now as Eddie’s sound merely causing Steve to arch against his fingers, a deeper, more guttural moan leaving him.

“Fuck, Eddie…”

“If you lose, Harrington, then I get to watch you jerk yourself off.”

The sound of his name on Steve’s lips, wrecked and needy, sent a pulse through Eddie that had him leaking heavily and twitching in his jeans so much it was painful. The gasp that left him only seemed to drive Steve on further, his hand fisting his own cock tighter, faster, his breath punching out of him with every harsh tug.

“R-right there, fuck, yes,” Steve was moaning, and even though the words were barely anything at all, they were somehow the filthiest thing Eddie had ever heard in his life. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Eddie couldn’t stand it anymore, his wide eyes glued to the purpling tip of Steve’s cock, barely able to drag his eyes away to see the way Steve’s other fingers massaged over himself between his ass cheeks. Eddie’s hand crushed and squeezed his own erection through his jeans, thrust up against his palm for more pressure. The pain was exquisite.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve gasped, the muscles in his thighs and arms bulging, his toes curling in his sheets. Throwing his head back, cords in his neck straining as he clenched his eyes shut, Steve came in thick and hard rivulets over his fist and shooting across his chest with such velocity a splatter even hit his chin. “Eddie…”

Eddie let out a shaky moan, his own dick spasming in his jeans as he released wet and hot in his boxers. The only sound in the room after their oddly in sync panting breaths.

Two weeks later, at another party that Eddie was actually invited to as reigning Keg King, he could only watch with slack jawed awe as Harrington surpassed not only Eddie’s record with ease, but also his own.

When Harrington landed nimbly on his feet, he sauntered over to Eddie with a small smirk, and leaned in close enough to whisper softly in his ear. “I told you, Munson. I always get what I want.” He pulled back just enough to look Eddie in the eyes. “Next time, let’s bet your mouth.”

Then, with a wink, King Steve was swept away into a congratulatory crowd, leaving Eddie wondering…just who had been playing who, and just how soon was too soon to propose marriage.

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

Tagged in celebration of first publicly posted smut: @katyawriteswhump

#inspired by a post #steddie #pre steddie #first time publicly posting smut #steddie smut #pwp #voyerurism #rivals to lovers #king steve #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #plot thots

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kensuio · 3 months ago

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sugar daddy aventurine is head over heels smitten for you, always givin you whatever you wanted. a designer bag? what color? expensive jewelry? he’ll buy you the whole set. clothes? shoes? of course he had to have his princess look beautiful so everyone could see how good he took care of you. you were over-spoiled to say the least.

he couldn’t resist you. it wasn’t his fault he fell for you so fast. you were just too cute, so good, so caring. you needed someone to take care of you and he showed you he could be that man to you. after that, your relationship had changed from just purely financial to romantic.

he was weak when it came to you. you could’ve done something to get him upset and all you have to do is look into his eyes, pout that bottom lip out while apologizing and his eyes on you waver for just a second. the next his hand is at your neck, the other palming at the soft plush of your ass.

you were his lifeline. his last breath and the first thing he desired in the morning. he needed you and he couldn’t stand to see you give him anything but that pretty smile towards him with those stars of admiration in your eyes. fuck, how could he when you looked at him like he gave you the world? (even though he know he does!)

“i could never stay mad at you baby…” his hand grips at your ass, massaging the warm skin. “i just can’t, you know that.” honestly, it would’ve been better if you were wearing nothing at all because it barely covers anything anyway. you knew that these were his favorite on you, you put them on because of this fact.

his lips softly touch your forehead, “just promise not to do it again, yeah baby?” he asks you, grin as big as ever. he was always almost way too quick to forgive you. you bat your eyelashes up at him before nodding your head and smiling, “i promise daddy.”

his dick stiffens at that fucking word. daddy. he didn’t know he liked it until you called him it while his fingers were inside you. his body was hovered over yours as you sit below him legs spread open on display, like the prize you were. you couldn’t remember how long you were in the position. after one? two? thr—did it even matter anymore— orgasms?

your hands gripped onto his shirt, his lips kissing and sucking onto the side of your neck. he never had a problem pleasing you. he preferred it. he could just cum in his pants from seeing you lose yourself in pleasure. that was what sent him there every single fucking time.

his azure and violet eyes staring down at you intensely. “does it feel good? you want daddy to make you cum, don’t you?” he repeats after you, voice like music to you as his lips hover the shell of your ear. he didn’t know this was your thing, but he fucking loved it now that he knew it was.

you nod your head desperately, his voice deep yet filled with so much passion and endearment at your ear was enough to send you over the edge. it was enough to make your head spin and clench around his fingers. “y-yes daddy please .. s’good.” water begins to form at your waterline in pleasure and he chuckles at the sight of you coming undone in front of him.

“mhmm just let go for me pretty.. let daddy take care of everything for you.” he kisses just below your eyes as tears fall and his fingers curl inside you at an even faster rate. you knew aventurine would take care of you and make you feel good. he always does.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #fem reader #honkai x you

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starsforselene · 9 months ago

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Pairing: Bang Chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit MDNI

Contains: fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving) chatty Chan, masturbation (f) hot roommate walking in on you

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your roommate, Chan so long he’s part of your weekly self love sessions. However, this particular Sunday night, Chan comes home early and overhears you.

Note: it’s just a little self indulgent pointless smut.

—/

“God damn it,” you mutter between clenched teeth as your head hits your pillow.

You fling the now lifeless vibrator across your room where it lands in your dirty clothes pile; with a sigh you stare at the ceiling, the dull ache between your thighs almost mocking you. It’s Sunday night and normally the only time your roommate, Chan, is gone long enough for you to get some alone time in since he’s got his weekly boy’s night at his best friend’s place. As luck would have it you forgot to charge the damn thing after your last session.

Now, you’re laying in bed, half cocked and out of fun options. You could either suck it up and get ready for bed, or handle things…manually. The thought of facing Monday morning unsatisfied is not ideal so you figure it’s better to take care of things the old school way. Closing your eyes, your hand roams down your stomach towards your center, slipping between your folds to gather the slick that had collected from your earlier ministrations, swirling them around your still-swollen clit. You let out a low moan as pleasure starts to build back up, steady and warm in your core.

It’s not long before images start flooding your mind: long, strong hands roaming over your body; soft lips kissing their way through all of your sensitive spots. You gasp as pleasure thrums through your body; visions of dark hair tickling your thighs as a sly smile peeks up from between your legs. A low moan slips from between your lips along with a muttered name as your fingers circle your clit faster desperately wishing it was his mouth, his hands bringing you closer to edge.

“Fuck, Chan,” you whimper, fingers working your bundle of nerves as you picture his tongue there instead.

Your breath quickens as your release approaches, legs buzzing with pleasure that zig zags its way up to your belly where it coils tight. Chan floods your mind: his long fingers inside you, pumping in and out as his lips suck on your clit—things he’s never actually done but you’ve thought of more than you can count. Your hips buck as you approach your high, sheets slipping off into a heap at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, did you remember to put the stuff—Shit!” Chan closes the door as quickly as he opened it.

“Oh my God! Why didn’t you knock! Jesus, fuck—Chan! What the hell!” You shout as you scramble to cover yourself despite the damage being done. Your heart is thundering in your chest, hands shaking as you wrap the sheets around yourself.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t—I just thought that—“ Chan says from the other side of the door, voice filled with panic.

”You thought, what exactly? That you’d barge into my room?!” you shout back as you get up and walk across the room, opening the door to find him standing there, his back to you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be, uh, busy. I wasn’t sure if you had put the clothes in the dryer or if you needed me to do it.”

“You could’ve just looked in the washer? Why are you even home? I thought tonight was boys night?” you ask the back of his head.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. Boys night was cut short, Han has an early meeting tomorrow. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…anything.”

“Turn around, Chan, I’m covered,” you huff as you lean against the doorway.

He obliges, face and ears red as he looks you directly in the eyes as if he’s willing the rest of you to not exist.

“Did you see anything?”

He swallows hard and you know right away that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to be a lie.

”I didn’t, I promise. I was in and out so fast I didn’t really see much.”

“Much or anything?”

“I didn’t see a lot…I promise. It was more what I—nothing.”

“Chan,” you say as he’s looking at the floorboards like they’re fascinating works of art. “It was more than what?”

“What I heard,” he admits, glancing up at you. “Or what I thought I heard! Maybe I misheard you or I made it up or something. Listen, I’m sorry. I’ll just go and we can forget this happened.”

He makes to leave but doesn’t, like he’s got something else to say. Your heart is hammering in your chest along with a thousand thoughts running through your mind.

“Just tell me. I don’t feel like tip toeing around this for days. It’s embarrassing enough you walked in on me masturbating. I don’t want a repeat of the time I caught you in the same position last year. We skirted around each other for weeks, it was beyond tedious.” The memory of that night fueled many Sunday sessions for you but he doesn’t need to know that.

Chan sighs in defeat and runs a hand through his hair as he glances up at you.

”I heard you moaning my name before I came in. At least I thought I did,” he says in a rush.

Your stomach drops down to your feet, heat rushing up your neck and into your face. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find yourself looking at Chan to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t look utterly disgusted, which takes you by surprise. Instead, he meets your gaze with his own, eyes darker than they were a minute ago, the connection sending heat through you. Your breath catches in your throat as you slowly realize that Chan looks the opposite of disgusted.

“Oh. Umm, well…”

“So did you?” he asks, eyes on yours still, slowly peeling away your resolve.

”I might…have…”

The air shifts between you like your admittance has opened a door that barely had hinges to begin with. Chan’s eyes alight with something you can’t quite place but it makes your core throb all the same.

“Why?”

The question catches you off guard and you straighten out of your haze.

“Why what?”

“Why were you moaning my name while you were touching yourself?” he asks as if he’s asking whether you want to make dinner or have take out.

You stare at him, unsure whether he actually wants an answer. He’s watching your face, almost like he wants to make sure he isn’t crossing any lines but also like he’s wanting to see if those lines can be erased instead. Your crush on your roommate is something you barely even acknowledge to yourself but right now, with the way he’s looking at you, it’s hard to think about much else other than your go-to fantasies of him and how they might become reality.

“I-uh-I- was thinking of you,” you say and immediately regret. Shit, why did you just—

“Do you think of me a lot when you do that?”

“Chan, I-“

”I think of you. I think of you a lot, actually,” he says quietly.

Your eyes meet again and that heat flares. You suck in a breath and sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He looks less embarrassed than earlier, that line fully crossed now. He walks into the room and sits beside you, the heat from his body permeating through you.

“You…think of me?” you mutter as you fidget with the edge of the sheet, incredibly aware of how naked you are underneath.

Chan takes a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.

“Yeah, I do. Have for a while.”

A thrill runs down your spine, that familiar heat pulsating in your center. Chan thinks of you when he’s—you take a breath to push the thoughts away.

“I like that you think of me like that,” he adds softly.

You look back up at him and find molten fire in his eyes. It matches the fire burning inside you.

”What do you think of when you think of me?” The words escape you before you can even think of stopping yourself.

Chan smirks, like he knows he’s got you, turning to face you as his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. Your pulse quickens along with your breathing but you immediately want more. His thumb grazes your cheek, he leans in but stops short, as if waiting for you. All thoughts of hesitation leave you, a quick nod is all it takes before he’s bridging the gap between you. His lips are soft, tentative—at least until you kiss him back.

The moment the switch flips is almost tangible. Every glance, every accidental touch, every single time you thought of Chan in ways that you shouldn’t culminate in this moment where his lips are on yours and all you can think is more. You deepen the kiss with a moan, dizzy with this new feeling of having Chan’s lips on yours. His tongue explores your willing mouth, his hands moving down your arms and grabbing around your waist to pull you closer. You groan, his touch igniting small fires in its wake that burn brighter the more he touches you. His lips leave yours with no warning, breaking the kiss; it’s a bucket of ice water over you.

”Do you really wanna know what I think about?” he asks between panted breaths.

God, yes, you almost say but hesitate. You squeeze your thighs together to find reprieve for the ache that robs you of self control. His eyes never leave yours, pupils blown wide as he waits for your answer. The nagging curiosity wins over any doubt that might try and dissuade you; you need to know.

“Yeah, I do,” you whisper.

“Can I show you?”

You’re nodding before you can stop to think about it; all you know is that now that he’s touched you there’s no going back. Chan leans in, electricity sparking between your bodies the closer he gets, and he kisses you softly. His lips move slowly down your cheek, featherlight kisses that travel down your jaw towards your ear where he hovers, breath fanning over the soft shell of your ear.

“Lay back on the bed for me. Make sure you take that sheet off.”

Arousal rushes out of you at his words, a small whimper is your only response as you stand up and gingerly remove the sheet from around your body, exposing yourself to his hungry eyes. He takes in your naked form greedily, tongue darting out to wet his plush lips, an obvious bulge in his pants that makes you clench around nothing as you settle on the bed for him.

Chan stands at the end of the bed and looks at you, at first it’s full of desire but something clouds it. Your furrow your brow, panic rising in your chest. Maybe he’s changed his mind? Maybe it got weird? You know it should feel weird to you but it doesn’t, you’ve had feelings for Chan for far too long but maybe he doesn’t feel the same way? You reach for a blanket to cover up when he sighs.

”Are you having second thoughts? We can stop, you know. I understand if it’s weird,” he says.

Your chest feels light again, at least you’re on the same page—kind of.

”I’m not! I was worried you were having second thoughts—that maybe you didn’t like me like this and just got caught up or something.”

Chan chuckles and kneels on the bed between your legs, running his hands up your legs and settling them on your thighs, making you shiver. He licks his lips as his eyes roam down your body and settle on your face.

“I promise you that I’ve been fantasizing about this for far too long to have second thoughts,” he drawls with a half smile. He lifts your leg and slowly kisses his way up to your knee while his other hand spreads your leg to open you up for him. His eyes are obsidian, his want for you almost palpable. “Watch me baby, hmm?”

A pathetic whimper is all the response you can provide, body covered in goosebumps of anticipation as you watch Chan lower himself between your legs. He takes his time; kissing and caressing your thighs, slowly coming closer to the pulsating heat at your center. He bites and sucks the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs and you gasp, fingers digging into the sheets when he quickly licks the pain away.

You feel the smirk against your skin as you hear his deep chuckle, it’s enough to make you dizzy with need. You’re about to beg for relief when he licks a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit, moaning when he finally tastes you.

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out, shuddering as pleasure rocks through you, hands gripping his hair to keep yourself grounded.

Chan groans against you, tongue circling your clit just enough to make your hips buck up against his face; a silent, desperate plea for more. He doesn’t seem to take, taking his time licking and tasting every last bit of you, making his way back towards your entrance to dive his tongue inside enough to prolong the sweet torture only to stop and taste his way back up towards your throbbing clit. He licks and sucks on your clit until you’re a whiny, quivering mess; every nerve in your body buzzing with pleasure and desire.

“Chan,” you whimper between panted breaths as you lift your head to look at him.

You’re not sure what it is you’re asking for at this point but his dark eyes look up at you with molten desire in them as he smirks.

“I got you,” he purrs as he slowly inserts two fingers into your heat.

The deliciously slow stretch takes your breath away, your head falls back against the pillow as pleasure warms its way through your veins. How he knew what you needed before you did adds to the building tightness in your belly. He hums in approval as his fingers press against the sensitive spot inside you that makes you gasp and clench around his fingers, taking his time stroking it. You writhe on the mattress, Chan’s name falling from your lips with each pump of his fingers in and out of you, stars exploding behind your eyes with every drag of his fingers against your walls.

The heat builds in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter, making your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut. Chan’s soft voice brings you even closer to the edge with each half moaned encouragement like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. He presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves and the room spins, pleasure radiating through you and tears spring to your eyes; it’s too much but not enough.

“P-please, Chan,” you plead, voice barely a whisper, body wound tight.

He groans in response, fingers working you faster as his thumb flicks your clit. It doesn’t take much until the coil inside you breaks and you’re lost to the overwhelming release that crashes over you. Chan moans along with you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he coaxes you through your high.

“Mmm, that’s my girl,” he chuckles darkly as he kisses your inner thigh.

A shiver runs down your spine as you start coming down, everything covered in a sweet haze that envelops you.

“That was…really something,” you breathe, covering your face with your hands.

“Better than what I imagined,” he responds as he kisses his way up your body until he’s settled between your legs.

He caresses your sensitive skin while placing soft kisses over your cheeks and eyelids, sweet nothings about how long he’s wanted you peppered in between.

“What now?” you whisper, a beat of uncertainty panging in your chest.

“We can figure that out in the morning. I’m tired,” Chan replies gruffly.

You giggle and roll your eyes, a smile settling on your lips. You’d argue but you’re tired and satisfied and his arms are way too inviting; you’re not too concerned with whatever comes next.

Knowing him, it’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

#Bang Chan imagine #Bang Chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #skz smut #skz imagines #fic

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a-small-safe-place · 11 months ago

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His Haven Pt. 3

Part 1 Part 2

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader

Homelander had arrived at your office earlier than your usual meeting time. You had asked him to be there around an hour earlier than your scheduled session. He was putting on a fake smile; he was always good at that. Homelander thought he knew what was happening. You were dropping him as a client. You had to be. You had all but threatened it the last time he came to your house when he was desperate for someone to talk to or even just be around. When his reflection was saying things that were beyond harsh and his penthouse felt a little too empty. Even if you did drop him as a client, he didn’t plan on going anywhere, but it bothered him that you would have even tried.

Homelander stepped into the office without knocking, like he always did. He knew that bothered you, but he didn’t need to knock. It was obvious to him when someone else was in the room, and you would not be dumb enough to book someone over his time with you. He immediately noticed your heart beating faster and the stink of adrenaline all over your body. You were afraid. The smell of adrenaline was fresh, so that meant one thing: you were afraid of him.

Homelander took his seat across from you. You smiled a fake smile before asking, “How are you today?” He wanted to gripe about you, tell you that you had no reason to be afraid of him right now, tell you that even if you tried to drop him as a client, he wasn’t leaving. “Fine,” is all he says with an irritated tone. “What’s so important that I had to be here an hour before our meeting? You know I’m a busy man,” he scolds. Your heart rate spikes.

“Well, we’ve been having some issues with boundaries. Usually, I discuss these things in our first meeting, but since my contract with The Seven was a unique experience, I hadn’t bothered to have a boundaries talk with any of you, at least not an in-depth one.” After you finish talking, Homelander relaxes a bit. You weren’t trying to get rid of him. It was a relief. He figured since you were human; you probably didn’t notice the change in his demeanor, but in reality, it was a very noticeable change. He was like a feral cat finally calming down enough to eat or drink.

“Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries,” Homelander mocks a bit. “Is that all you doctors want to talk about? I thought you wanted to talk about me?”

“This is about you. It’s about both of us,” you counter. He stands back up and begins pacing a bit with his hands behind his back. “Look, we need to have boundaries. They are important. In our first session, I said that I am here for you, and I cannot be here for you if we have no boundaries. If these boundaries continue to be pressed, then I will recommend you to another psychiatrist, one that will be better suited to your needs.” It’s obvious this pisses him off enough that his mask drops. Homelander’s already thin lips flatten into a line of a scowl. At first, his eyes widen a bit, clearly shocked at your sudden assertiveness, but then narrowing somewhat out of anger. He is not looking at you. He’s looking in your direction but pointedly avoiding you or maybe looking through you. Homelander seems to be lost in thought or as if he has suddenly begun to disassociate.

“So you are dropping me?” he finally says. His voice is flat, and his eyes are somewhat glassy. “No. I am still your psychiatrist. We will just be working on our boundaries. It’s my fault. I should have discussed this with you the minute I realized we would be meeting regularly, and I should not have been so indulgent, but that stops now. We will both be good, okay? And you can continue to be my patient. But there will be no time for us outside of this office, and you will quit showing up at my house or following me home. I know you are lonely, but I cannot fill that loneliness as your psychiatrist. I can help you understand why you are having those feelings, but I cannot fix them.” You speak with a confidence that Homelander has never seen from you. He likes this attitude you have.

He ponders it for a moment before sitting back down. Homelander thinks he can make this work, for now. He will still get to see you and visit your house while you’re out. You’re still his. “Okay, I’ll behave,” Homelander says in a way that borders on pride and flirting. He feels somewhat proud of you for being so assertive with you, even if he’s not a huge fan of the outcome.

He knows you will come around eventually, and when you do, he will be waiting with a dinner reservation and the mirror on the ceiling of his bedroom freshly cleaned.

Tag list: @demodemo909 @misadventures0fdes

#the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #the seven #the boys fanfic #homelander fanfiction #reader x homelander #homelander x psychiatrist #psychiatrist!reader #male reader #fem!reader #gender neutral reader #homelander is so bbg #homelander x you #slow burn?#slow burn

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clareguilty · 14 days ago

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Ghost/Soap/Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink

This fic was written for Kinktober 2024! Let me know what you think <3

Ghost/Soap/F!Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink, strength kink, dacryphilia Rating: Explicit | WARNINGS: EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT Word Count: ~3400

The last thing you expected when you answered the knock on your office door was the sight of two uniformed soldiers, both broad enough to fill the entire doorway each, expressions grave. You ushered them inside your small, cluttered office tucked away in the biochemistry wing of the university building. Being the head of the pharmacology department did not come with a sprawling mahogany desk and glorious window views. You were lucky to have a desk and a window at all.

Still, you were the best in your field, and that had granted you tenure and funding to continue your research as well as a small team of graduate students and postdocs to boss around as you pleased.

One of the soldiers introduced himself as Captain Price, the other a corporal under his command. You cleared off space on your desk as the corporal opened a locked case and pulled out a laptop.

“Anything you are about to see is highly classified information,” the captain warned you. “Our intel pertains to ongoing operations to stop a dangerous organized terrorist group.”

You nodded along, but your focus was on the footage being played on the laptop. The drone shots and shaky handheld cameras, clips of lab workers handling samples while suited head to toe in protective equipment. There was footage of soldiers experiencing a variety of symptoms: aggression, paralysis, psychosis.

The corporal opened a file for you to scroll through. Pages and pages of reports.

“Biochemical weapons,” you murmured to yourself. “Inhalants?”

“Gas,” the captain confirmed. “Your security clearance is still in the system from your field work on that operation in Andorra. Our people are using your research as the blueprint.”

You were the leading expert on biochemical weaponry, much of your research was centered around synthesizing field antidotes. It had been a few years since you were last out in the field, taking samples from warzones and the sites of attacks.

“You need me out there?” You asked. But you already knew the answer. They wouldn’t be here in your office otherwise.

“You’ll be working with our top tactical operations team. The best men we’ve got. Whatever they’re making in these labs, we need to put a stop to it, and then we need to figure out how they’re doing it.”

You looked at the footage again - civilians this time - and felt your stomach turn at the sight.

“When’s the earliest we can leave?” You asked, closing the laptop to hide the horrifying images.

The body armor on your last field operation had been simple: a bullet proof vest with a mask and helmet. You had worn your civilian clothes and brought along everything else yourself.

“Alright, Dove, arms up,” the special forces sergeant, Soap, grinned as he dropped a heavy vest over your head. You dutifully raised your arms so he could fasten the tangle of buckles until you were secured.

“Thanks,” you glanced down at the overwhelming amount of gear that was now covering your front.

“You’ve got your radio,” he tapped the top left pocket, “Compass, shears, three mags of extra ammunition, scopes, batteries, and torch.” You watched him point out each item. “On your belt here you’ve got your pistol, knife, and canteen.”

Soap put his own gear on much faster than it had taken to kit you out. He carried even more equipment, but he somehow made it look easier.

You had been staying at the temporary base with Captain Price’s 141 task force for days now. Without access to quality lab equipment, you were working tirelessly to find answers about the biochemical weaponry using whatever was available. As impressive as your makeshift setup was, it wasn’t near precise or thorough enough to save lives.

It felt a little ridiculous. A researcher surrounded by a bunch of special forces giants. They were welcoming and friendly - except for the terrifying lieutenant with the skull mask, but you knew you were out of your depth surrounded by cases full of rifles and grenades. Sleeping on a cot and eating rations cooked off a gas burner.

Captain Price had done whatever he could to make you more comfortable. The encampment was a few secured buildings and several large tents. And while you were accustomed to the conditions after your previous field research, they had afforded you as much privacy as possible.

Underneath the teasing and jokes, Soap was kind and friendly. He’d nicknamed you their ‘peace dove’ on the first day, and you hadn’t been able to shake the moniker since.

Even Lieutenant Ghost had been considerate as you tried to keep up with the heavy military jargon and unfamiliar protocols. He slipped you candy bars that were definitely against regulations and sat with you after the countless briefings to explain all of the commands that had flown over your head rapid-fire. He was still scary.

The last military squadron you had worked alongside had mostly ignored you, frustrated with your inexperience and occasionally downright cruel. They hadn’t respected your expertise or your research despite your attempts to explain how vital it was to their safety.

There was none of that here.

After several days of monitoring intel and surveillance, Price had finally made the call to infiltrate the terrorist labs. The only way to stop these weapons would be to secure the materials themselves.

Soap and Ghost were assigned to clear out any hostiles, and your mission was to gather anything in the labs that would help to stop production of the weapons and synthesize antidotes.

It was difficult to keep up with them as they closed in on the lab. You had been instructed to hang back a ways while they engaged, but even then you were struggling to match their pace.

You had never known anyone who could make an assault rifle look small until these men. Like they were holding a toy. Despite their size, both the sergeant and the lieutenant were exceptionally fast even with all their gear.

As you approached the location of the terrorists’ labs, Ghost signaled for all of you to halt. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you into a crouch inside a copse of brush where you would be able to keep cover.

“Stay here. We’ll engage the hostiles and bring you in as soon as the site is secure,” he ordered.

Both he and Soap immediately made to move in, but you managed to catch Soap by the hand. “Be careful,” you warned. “We have no clue what kind of shit they’re cooking up in there.”

“Don’t worry, Dove. We’ll do just fine,” Soap promised with a grin.

And then they were gone.

The silence that filled in after their retreating boot steps was excruciating. The sharp cracks of gunfire that rang out in short bursts were somehow even worse. You couldn’t radio in without risking the operation - the noise could give away their position - so you were left waiting until Ghost signaled the all clear. As the minutes dragged on since the last round of shots, you prayed you wouldn’t have to fall back on your contingency extraction: if you didn’t hear from either Soap or Ghost after two hours, you were to make your way to a designated pickup spot.

Your radio crackled.

“You there, Dovie?” Soap’s voice came through. He sounded uninjured.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” That was Ghost this time. “We’ve eliminated all hostiles. Give us ten more minutes to secure the site, and then I’ll send Soap to come get you.”

“Copy that.” An unbelievable amount of tension seemed to melt out of you at that, and you let out a heavy sigh.

Not even a minute later you heard a distant bang. Not gunfire. A small explosion.

“Lieutenant?” You immediately called over the radio. “What was that?”

“Fucking hell!” Soap shouted. “The lab was rigged!”

“Lieutenant?” You were already pushing to your feet, rushing out of the safety of your cover and towards the labs.

“We tripped something,” Ghost finally responded. “They had canisters set to burst if the lab was tampered with.”

“You mean you got dosed?” Your fingers were numb with fear as you fumbled with your radio. “Are you experiencing any symptoms? I’m on my way now!”

The radio was silent for a few moments, but you were sprinting as fast as you could toward the site. If you could get there quick enough, maybe you could find an antidote somewhere in the labs. They wouldn’t know what to look for, but if you could find out what was in those canisters, surely you could fix this.

“Wait, Dovie,” Soap’s voice was rough, breathy. “Stay where you are. Don’t come near here.”

“I’m the only chance you have at finding an antidote,” you shouted into the radio.

“Hold your position. Do not approach. That is an order,” Ghost snarled, but you were already at the entrance, flying through the path of carnage Soap and Ghost had left. The satellite images in the briefing had given you a rough idea of where you needed to go, and the trail of bodies confirmed you were on the right track.

As you came up on the entrance to the labs, someone tackled you into the wall, pinning you in place. You screamed, but a gloved hand covered your mouth.

“It’s just me,” Soap assured you. “But you shouldn’t have run in here without your weapon drawn. Shouldn’t have come in here at all.” He pulled his hand away so you could gulp down a breath.

“Whatever you were hit with, they might have an antidote. If I can get to it before it’s too late-“

Soap cut you off. “You’re worse than me at following orders.”

”Let me go.” You tried to squirm out of his hold.

Soap made a choked off sound in your ear. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s the gas. I swear. We didn’t know the lab was rigged.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Jesus, Dove, you have to forgive me. Promise? I can’t fight it.”

“Whatever it is, you’ll be okay. Just let me go, Soap.”

He was pinning you in place with his entire body weight, panting against the back of your neck as he easily kept you still despite your attempts to break free.

Thankfully, you heard the sound of heavy boots approaching. That had to be Ghost.

He rounded the corner and you cried out. “Lieutenant! Please, sir!”

Ghost snarled when he saw you trapped beneath Soap. He crossed the room in three easy strides and ripped the sergeant off of you. Soap hit the floor with a groan, and you tried to back away.

Except the Ghost was closing in on you, knife drawn. He cornered you easily, and the fear had you freezing in place. You weren't a trained soldier. You weren't equipped to handle these kinds of situations.

You flinched as Ghost grabbed for you, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing for the worst, but there wasn't any pain - just the sound of tearing fabric and the sensation of your body armor falling away to a heap on the floor.

“Gotta get these off you,” he growled, crowding even closer against you. His voice wasn’t nearly as rough or as breathless as Soap’s. When you finally worked up the courage to open your eyes, Ghost was leant over you with his face in your neck taking deep inhales. Was he… smelling you?

They’d both been dosed. You had never seen symptoms like these before, but it wasn’t a typical toxin. Surely you could find an antidote if they just let you go.

And then Soap was back, pawing at the space between your bodies. “Please, Ghost,” he was begging, “feels like I’m about to die. Fuck. Need it so bad.”

Ghost pulled away from your neck, reached out to grab Soap by the jaw, holding him still. There was a moment of quiet save for both yours and Soap’s panicked breathing. “Alright, Johnny.” He finally assented. “You gotta go easy, you hear? Don’t wanna break her.”

You didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but struggling was absolutely useless when Ghost was holding a knife. You knew what he was capable of.

It was too quick for you to even register. Soap was fast. He snatched the knife from Ghost and cut your clothes away, taking you down to the ground with some sort of wrestling maneuver you were never going to escape from.

“I’m so sorry, Dove,” Soap was apologizing again. “Can’t fucking help it.”

He shoved his own gloves and gear away, fumbling to open his trousers before freeing his cock. He was achingly hard, and dripping. He was also fucking huge. His eyes fluttered shut in relief as he wrapped his hands around the length and gave a few lazy strokes, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that would be all it took.

“Please,” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Don’t fuss,” Soap placed a finger over your lips to quiet you, then he shoved it inside your mouth. You weren’t sure if biting him would end well for you. He grabbed your legs by the knees, raising your hips until your pussy was on display for him. “That’s a good girl.” He spit on his fingertips and began rubbing at your entrance, as if that would be enough lube.

He pressed two fingers inside of you, but you were so terrified that it didn’t feel right at all. It hurt. You screamed, and suddenly Ghost was there.

“This is the only way to help,” he said, and you noticed he had a silver canister in his hands. “I promise this will make it easier.”

You didn’t have enough time to react before he crushed the canister with just his gloved hands. A deafening hiss drowned out the sounds of your own sobs and your vision went white as the contents of the canister filled the air. You couldn’t hold your breath at all, not when you were sobbing with gasps of pain. The gas settled over your skin, inside your mouth and nose. You instinctively swiped your tongue against your teeth and cheeks. It tasted powdery and sour.

“Give her a second, Johnny,” Ghost ordered.

You were almost glad they had cut your clothes away because your skin was suddenly too warm. Too clammy. Your mouth went from bitter and dry to watering with saliva in a matter of seconds. Every sensation felt sharper, and the pain disappeared. Soap was just as warm where you were pressed against him, and his fingers inside you were now drenched in slick wetness.

How were they even able to think like this? They’d been dealing with these symptoms for longer than you and somehow still had control of themselves. You had been exposed to the gas for less than a minute and all rational thought had left you.

“That’s a good girl,” Ghost’s voice reached you through the drunken haze and you whined. “Spread yourself nice and open on Johnny’s fingers.”

Oh. You were fucking your hips against Soaps’ hand. He was watching the sight with his pupils blown wide as he pressed a third finger inside of you. The stretch felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” you begged. “More. Please.”

Soap curled his fingers inside you and you cried out. He held your hips still with his free hand so he could fuck you harder on his fingers. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he had you gushing over his wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Gonna fuck you now.” He settled between your thighs. All you could do was beg because his finger hadn’t been enough. “Gonna breed you full, alright, Dove?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you panted.

You would never have been able to take his cock if Ghost hadn’t dosed you with the gas. Even after the rough fingerfucking you still cried out at the stretch. But it didn’t hurt this time. You loved the way he filled you, the sensation of him sinking deeper inside.

He was too impatient at this point. Had been holding himself back for too long. The moment his cock bottomed out inside you it was like his final thread of control snapped. You were long past him, having never once stood a chance after Ghost crushed that canister.

“Jesus, Dove, you’re so tight. Feel so good on my cock,” Soap was panting against your skin as he fucked you. You were much less coherent beneath him, just a stream of sobbing and begging. You understood what Soap had said earlier: you felt like you were going to die if they didn’t fuck you. If they didn’t ruin you on their cocks.

“I’m already close.”

You were surprised Soap had lasted this long, considering how quickly you had come on his fingers. It was definitely the toxins in your system, but you needed him to claim you. Needed to be bred full. You must have begged for it, because Soap was soothing you as he picked up the pace.

“You’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Just take it like a good girl, right Dovie?”

He forced his cock as deep as he could when he came, rocking against your hips to make sure it would take. You could feel it, so hot and sticky inside you, dripping out around his cock as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before a huge shadow filled your vision. Ghost. He shoved Soap aside, taking in the sight of you beneath him.

“Johnny made a mess of you didn’t he?” A gloved hand trailed over your tear stained cheeks, through the string of drool hanging from your lips. He forced your thighs apart to see Soap’s come dripping out of your used pussy. “Look at you, pretty girl,” he teased.

“Please,” you whined. The strange panic was taking hold of you again. You were scared what would happen if Ghost didn’t fuck you. “Please, sir. I need it.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Ghost swore under his breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to fight it off. Poor thing.”

He tossed his gloves aside, running warm, calloused hands over your sticky, sweaty skin. “I’m bigger than Johnny,” he warned. “But something tells me you’ll like that.”

All you could do was beg. How did Ghost have so much control? It was almost like he wasn’t affected at all.

He took mercy on you, dragging his cock against your pussy to slick the length of it before pressing inside. He was slower than Soap, more careful. And even under the effects of the gas, you needed it. Fuck. He was huge.

“You’re fucking noisy,” Ghost grumbled. And then there were two fingers pushing past your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digits to chase the salt and the sweat, and the relative quiet seemed to appease the lieutenant as he finally bottomed out inside you.

You had never been so full in your life, split open on the lieutenant’s cock like this. He groaned beneath the mask as he fucked you, rhythm faltering as you squeezed tight around his cock.

Even with his fingers in your mouth, you must have picked up your whining again because he leaned in to shush you. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill you up again. Breed you just like you need. We won’t let you go until you’re full of us.”

It should have sounded threatening, but all you could focus on was the promise that they would take care of you. That they would leave you dripping with their come.

The initial rush of the toxins had given way to a sort of timeless haze. You couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of Ghost fucking you and his fingers in your mouth. It could have been hours. You just needed to be full.

“Here it comes, Little Dove,” Ghost warned you. “Better take every last drop.”

He pulled you so far onto his cock that a glance of pain managed to reach you in the haze, but it only left you craving more. You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he came, filling you even more than Soap had.

“Such a good girl.” He only pulled out after he was sure he had fucked his come into you as deep as possible. And when a few drops began to spill out, he swiped them up with the fingers he had just pulled from your mouth and forced them back inside your pussy again.

“Hey, LT,” Soap grinned where he was slowly stroking his cock. “Does this mean it’s my turn again?”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghost x soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap/reader #ghost/reader

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cosyvelvetorchid · 2 months ago

Note

Hi again, the buck 1.0 anon, 1st of allll loved it it was prefect! You’re the best! can you a continuance of sorts. Where Chim caught Tommy and buck again by accident. Maybe Maddie wants to surprise Buck with something and they let themselves into Bucks apartment and chimney has a ‘not again moment Maddie’s like ‘again?’

You ask and will receive 🩶

***

RATING: E

Buck slowly opened his eyes and stretched his body. He reached out to the other side of the bed to find it warm but empty. A little fizz of disappointment went through his at not waking up on his birthday so see his boyfriend.

He threw on some sweats and left for downstairs to see Tommy moving around the kitchen making breakfast. Well, brunch, really, given it was just after 11am.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs to just watch Tommy. It had been almost 8 months and he’d been waiting for that giddy, honeymoon, oh my god I’m the luckiest man on earth feeling to go away, and yet it hadn’t dampened in the slightest. In fact it’d only become more heightened with each passing day.

He laughed to himself as he stood mesmerised by the tensing and twisting of Tommys back and shoulder muscles as he worked. Aside from checking out the occasional ass of a man previously, he was utterly clueless as to how he’d never noticed how gorgeous muscles were on man.

Or maybe it wasn’t muscles in general and it was Tommy’s specifically. It was Tommy’s masculinity that really did it for him. His sheer size, his strength, and god that cleft! The stubble, the size of his hands and that yeah that glorious cock that made him see god.

All of it—all of him —did it for Buck.

“It’s rude to stare, you know, even if it is your birthday.” Tommy turned around and Bucks heart, as it always did seeing Tommy, thrummed in his chest. He walked over and Tommy wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in and placing a kiss onto his forehead.

“Happy birthday sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” He smiled.

“What do you want to eat? Anything the birthday boy wants.” Tommy told him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Weren’t we supposed to go out for brunch?” Buck remembered the conversation they’d had a few days ago about his birthday.

“We were but I thought I’d let you sleep in after your shift. I figured we could go for dinner instead, if you’d like?”

“I would definitely like.” Buck smiled with a chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips.

“So, what would you like to eat now?”

Buck mouth curled into a smirk as his fingers grazed around the waistband of Tommy sweats.

“Really?” Tommy raised his brows. “Should it be the other way around given it is your birthday?”

Buck pulled Tommy’s sweats down without breaking eye contact with him and shook his head.

“Nope.”

Without hesitation he dropped to his knees and took Tommys already solid cock in his hand. Tommy leaned back, gripping the counter tightly as Buck took his swollen head into his mouth.

“Ah fuck!” Tommy breathed out. Buck gripped his cock near the base just tight enough and on the right side of pain as he slowly lowered his mouth down. Very quickly his cock was slick with a mixture of his pre come and Saliva.

Tommy couldn’t help but marvel at how far Buck has come giving him head. In the beginning he’d been tentative and with a sensitive gag reflex he’d have to use his hands in conjunction with his mouth. Tommy had slowly and methodically taught him how to deep throat and here he was now, on his knees on the kitchen floor with Tommys cock all the way down his throat. His eyes streamed still but there was no uncomfortable gagging.

It filled Tommy with immense pride at his Evan. Also, selfishly, he loved that he was Evan’s first experience at taking a cock. In every sense.

Buck began moving faster and Tommys hand instinctively reached out to grasp his hair. He pulled tightly, just enough to turn Buck on without causing pain.

“Jesus baby.. you’re so.. good to.. me..” he panted.

Buck hummed in response and the vibration shot Tommy closer to the edge. Buck reached around and grabbed Tommy’s ass cheeks hard, pulling him as far into his mouth as Tommy could go.

The sudden feeling sent Tommy into a tailspin.

He was so fucking close. The tears streaming from Bucks eyes, the glugging noises coming from his throat, the feel of his fingertips pressing hard into the flesh of his ass.. Tommy was almost there..

“Fuck Evan!”

**1 minute earlier**

“Are you sure he’s not home?” Chimney asked.

“Yes, Howie. I spoke with Tommy yesterday and he told me he was taking Buck to brunch.” Maddie reassured him. “So, we’re going to let ourselves in and leave him this beautiful cake for him to come home to as a nice surprise.”

“Hmm. I still don’t feel right about it. Something is telling me it’s not a good idea.” Chimney complained.

“It’ll be fine. Come on.”

They made their way into the building and up to Bucks apartment via the lift. Maddie stood back with the cake box in both hands so that Chimney could open that door.

He inserted the key and turned it.

“What’s that sound?” Maddie asked. But It was too late—Chim was already opening the door.

“OH GOOD GOD, AGAIN?!” He cried out and quickly turned around.

“What do you mean again—OH MY GOD!” Maddie screamed, dropping the cake box which hit the floor with a thud, as she caught the sight of her bother on her knees.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” It was Tommys turn to yell as he grabbed his sweats and quickly tried to pull them up.

“What the hell, Maddie?! Don’t you knock?!” Buck chastised her.

“I’m sorry! Im so so sorry!” She had her hand over her eyes.

“You can uncover your eyes, Maddie. What are you doing here?” Buck asked, annoyed.

“It’s your birthday—I wanted to surprise you with a cake. Tommy said he was talking you to brunch.”

“We, uh, changed our minds.” Tommy said, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.

“We can see that, Kinard. Along with other things we didn’t want to see.” Chimney added with a grimace.

“Not our fault you didn’t knock.” Buck told him.

“I swear to god if this happens again I’m gong to gouge my own eyes out.” Chimney said resolutely.

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie said again crouching down to pick up the cake box. She put it on the island and tentatively opened it. It was a 4 layer chocolate cake but now was a box full of chocolate mush. “We’ll just, uh, leave this here. It’s still edible so.. happy birthday. We’ll be, uh, going now.” She grabbed Chimneys arm and pulled him backwards towards the door. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head as he was dragged along.

Buck followed in the direction and closed the door. He turned and made eye contact with Tommy. It took about 3 seconds for them to burst into laughter

#tommy kinard #911 abc #bucktommy #911 #911onabc #buck x tommy #911 buck #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #bucktommy fic #bucktommy prompts #bucktommy prompt #cvo prompts #tevan #tevan fic #911 prompt #911 prompts

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kimberbohwrites · 2 months ago

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As promised, the smuttiest chapter I have EVER written. Please enjoy. AKA the much anticipated, "Rolan in Rut" Chapter Hope for the Gate Chapter Three Word Count: 3,328 Rated: Explicit -- MDNI! You have been WARNED. READ ON AO3 (or continued below) <Chapters 1&2 Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 Rolan x Tav art by @ ORANGEKITTYENERGY on tumblr

Summary: Eight months after the events of 'All I Wanted' (my first Rolan x Tav fic [see series]), Tav and Rolan’s relationship is tested by tragedy and turmoil. There will be drama, romance, political intrigue, action, and of course — smut. Is our favorite tiefling strong enough to handle it all and hold on to the girl? Tags/Warnings: Rolan, Tav. Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings. Porn With Plot, Tiefling Biology, Tieflings, Rolan in Rut, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Breeding Kink, Breeding, Knotting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Shameless Smut, Creampie, Smutty

If Rolan had felt more himself, he might be embarrassed about how quickly his dignity was left behind. It is as if something breaks in him as the hours crawl toward the time when Tav and him had agreed to meet. It was agonizing. He’d been in rut before, but it had never felt so acute.

Even her scent left behind on his desk fuels the madness. He knows she’s busy getting ready for their unplanned holiday and he knows he mustn’t bother her. But the fever and aches were growing steadily worse with each passing hour. The only balm for him came in the form of his desk. As he resigned himself to finding relief, a hint of too-familiar shame rises in him but was quickly washed away in the tidal wave of need currently housed within him.

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he’d grown desperate for her.

Resting his head down and his face flat on the desk he took a deep breath of her scent that still lingered on the wood. His cock grew achingly hard but the rest of him felt a sense of relief, like a cool breeze on sun-scorched skin, the pain remains but the relief is welcome. Taking another deep breath, he freed himself from his pants, taking his throbbing length in hand as he closed his eyes and conjured the image of his Tav.

Trying to bite his lips to contain the muffled groans proved of little use, his desperate pants and whines were still audible even with his face against the desk. He felt filthy, face pressed to his desk as he stroked his cock to her scent and his fever-fueled imagination. He wanted to find her right now and take her, against whatever surface of the Tower he found her nearest.

He needed to be inside her, to ruin her, to make her scream his name.

Stroking faster he felt the pressure build, the bulbous knot at the base of his length already forming. Gods he was desperate to knot her. He needed to feel her squeezing against him as he claimed her. His hips began to rut into his hand as he worked himself closer to the edge, wondering how she would feel stuffed with his knot.

His mouth had slackened as he got closer, now drooling onto his desk as he panted and moaned like nothing more than an animal. He needed Tav, alone. He needed to fuck and fill her and claim her as his mate. His imagination flashed with images of her beautiful core dripping with his spend and it propelled him over the edge. He came so hard he felt lucky he was already face down on his desk as his head reeled.

With each pulse of his cock, he let out a whine of relief as he coated the underside of the desk, his hand and his lap.

—*—*——*—*—

Rolan sat up with a start. His head felt fuzzy as he realized that he must have passed out at his desk. It couldn’t have been for too long judging on the state of things. With a mutter he cast a quick spell to clean up the mess around him. As he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, the other dropped into this lap and found himself still quite hard. He let out a groan of frustration. He’d expected the relief of such a carnal act to last longer but he had never experienced a rut so intense.

Quickly fixing his clothes and appearance with another simple spell (though even the little spells seemed to drain him in his current state) he stood from his desk. The effort making him reach out to the smooth surface for support. His head rushed as the room spun around him.

Zurgan, no more magic for right now. He thought to himself.

He needed to reach the portal room up in Ramazith Tower and meet Tav. He could barely hold himself upright in his current state of, desire. And using magic seemed to no longer be an option.

Looking down revealed the additional challenges of his situation. Though his clothes were clean and fresh once more, the obviousness of his arousal was quite clear to anyone who looked upon him.

Panic prickled at his forehead as his heart began to race. He chided himself, he was no better than a horny young man — it was humiliating. He was better than this. As his thoughts began to consume him threatening to take him to a dark place, a small knock sounded at the door.

“Rolan?”

Tav’s voice cut clear through the panic and right to him. Peeking her head in the door with a smile, she let herself the rest of the way in when she noticed him leaning against the desk for support.

“I thought you might not be feeling well.”

She bit her lip nervously as she approached. Rolan fought the urge to throw her down on the desk, rip off her clothes, and bury himself inside her.

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement actually”

He couldn’t help but sound tense when he answered.

“I thought that might be the case. I hope it’s okay, but I packed your things and have them upstairs and ready for you. The shop is closed, can I help you love?”

It came out in the next breath, before he even knew what he was saying.

“Marry me”

He felt his hand go to his mouth, but it was too late, even if he smothered himself right now the words had already escaped. Judging by the look of abject shock on her face, Tav had heard him quite clearly.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

He quickly added and he heard Tav let out an uneasy breath.

“That’s okay, I know you’re not yourself right now… I was just surprised is all.”

She put a supportive arm around him as if to lead him upstairs but at her touch he jumped as if struck by lightning. He was barely holding on to the gentleman in him as his rut-addled brain screamed at him to mount her right there.

Her touch felt better than anything he’d felt in his life — so much so that he’d almost finished again on the spot.

“I think it’s best if I follow you”

“Right, sorry”

He could smell her arousal as she moved away from him, and he groaned before he could silence himself. Digging his clawed nails into his palms he said a silent prayer to any deity who might listen that he could just hold on a little longer.

He wanted to be gentle with her, she deserved romance but with each passing moment something wild grew stronger within him.

—*—*——*—*—

It had been a process making it upstairs, he’d needed to walk slowly. A combination of fever and arousal making the environment around him distorted and unfamiliar. Tav had been patient and kind of course, trying to keep ahead but always turning back to wait if he got too far behind. He began to feel uncomfortable in his clothing and not just because of his hardened cock pressed against his pants.

His tail swished behind him trying to keep him balanced as he followed her upstairs.

More than once, he found himself wanting to give up. The feeling of too uncomfortable to move almost overwhelming him, but when he saw Tav ahead he would find another spark of energy to keep moving.

Finally, they reached the upstairs of the tower and the room that used to house Lorroakan’s hideous book throne. He’d been as good as his word and the throne had been disassembled and organized back onto bookshelves first when he’d become Master of the Tower.

Knowledge was not a throne to horde and covet, he thought to himself angrily.

The grand space now served as the main library and the home of the permanent portals he’d been working on since Tav had come to stay. Currently only the portal to her home was functional, though he was almost finished with the one to Waterdeep.

When he crossed the threshold into the room, he found her leaning against a desk. Nearby was stacked luggage for both of them. He was immensely grateful for her, he’d focused so much on making sure the Sundries was ready that he forgotten to pack himself.

However, he was unable to voice any of these thoughts at current, his mind simply latched on to her form on the desk.

It was strange, but he was almost grateful for the crippling fever because he wasn’t able to feel his usual sense of anxiety. In truth, Rolan had panicked the several times he’d accidentally thought about what this experience might be like with Tav. He’d always been sensitive about his more infernal attributes even though she’d shown time and time again that she loved each part of him.

Some small part of him still believed it was a trick. Being reduced before her to his most base and primal instincts was something that had long worried him, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

The only thing he could feel was need. He couldn’t wait any longer. Not when she was a few steps away, so beautiful and all his. His intentions must have been clear on his face because she turned to him with a coy smile.

“Rolan, we’re almost there”

While his mind attempted to clear the dirty thoughts and take control once more, his body takes a step toward her as if acting on its own. Almost like he’s being pulled toward her by an outside force and that he can no longer resist. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to resist it. Tav makes no attempt to move away, looking up at him as he moved closer with her big beautiful green eyes. Her chest rises and falls gracefully with anticipation. Rolan forgets to breathe when his eyes meet hers.

The last shred of his control is ripped away when she nervously bites her bottom lip again. He’s on her in an instant, his tail coiling around her back to pull her in even though there is no closeness that will be close enough ease the way he burns for her.

“Need you, please”

His words are moaned into her lips between hot, desperate kisses that begin to drag south down her jaw.

“Rolan”

“Please, let me have you, I’ll try to be gentle”

He whines the request as he sucks and licks at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet, feeling elated as her body shivers against his.

“Yes, gods Rolan, yes”

Tav pulls him back to her lips and kisses him hard. His hands reach out to hastily strip her of her clothing. Their kisses turn frantic, teeth and lips against one another as he finally divests them both of their clothes. Certain he’d probably tore his own robe a little in his rush but too desperate to care, he kicks the last of it away.

He pushes gently to lay back on the table, uncaring for the bottles and potion equipment rattling around as he positioned her perfectly and dropped to his knees. His tail latched around one of her ankles as his hands spread her dripping cunt open before him, his body now driven near-feral at the smell of her need.

His tongue is inside her pushing as deep into her and licking against the sweet spot inside her like candy. Her screams and squeals of excitement, her taste, has his cock dripping onto the floor beneath him. With a groan he realizes that before too long the knot at his base will swell. He needs to be inside her before that happens, but he is unwilling to take her without the proper preparation.

Excited at a challenge, he decides to finish her and quickly. Flattening his tongue out inside her to press against her walls, he traces the pads of his point and middle finger over her clit. He carefully avoids his claws in that sensitive area with what little thoughts his brain is still capable of making. The effect is immediate as her abs tense, her thighs tremble and he is just able to push her to her bliss before she bucks out of his grasp completely.

When she finishes on his tongue and face it’s his name on her lips, screamed until she runs out of air and gasps for breath.

Her taste satisfies the itch and the fever somewhat, but it’s not enough. He barely waits for her to recover, now wild with lust he stands and flips her over on the table. Tav is now chest down on the surface, holding herself up by her tiptoes as she is bent over by him. Bottles tip and clatter to the floor, the sounds of breaking glass barely permeate his brain as her dripping cunt is exposed to him.

“Please Rolan, please”

She begs and mewls softly at him as he leaves wet kisses down her spine, tracing his tongue every few inches against the hot skin.

“Since you asked so nicely”

He groans it out as he straightens and grips his cock, running it up and down her dripping center to coat himself with her slick.

“Tav… are you sure? This might… hurt or you could get… get pregnant”

He whispers and whimpers his concerns as he readies himself. Desperate as he is to be inside her, he needs to be sure that she wants this… wants him.

She turns her head slightly to see him from her periphery though she’s still bent over the table.

“Rolan… I want you”

He can tell just from the glint of her green eyes that she has more to say but the moment is wrong. As much as he’d hang on her every word, he is grateful as he pushes into her with a desperate whine.

“Tav… fuck… You feel…”

The sentence goes unfinished as control slips from his grasp. His hips rut wildly against her backside as he bottoms out in her. The slight swelling at the base of his cock already has her squirming and his tail coils around one of her legs to keep her steady.

His clawed fingertips lightly mar the smooth surface of her skin as he clutches her hips and pulls her back onto his cock with each thrust. At first he’s not even aware of the stream of filth leaving his mouth until he feels Tav clench harder around his cock as his words grow obscener.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock. Going to knot you and stuff you and fill you.” He groans and another whine follows on its heels as his thrusts grow more desperate, “breed you all night and put a baby in you.”

She clenches and cums, squeezing him like a vice as she squirts and drenches him. His thrusts grow faster, harder at the feeling as he fucks her through her orgasm.

Her hands shoot out to grab the table edges for support, sending more supplies and glass crashing to the ground. It goes unnoticed as she gasps and chants his name like a prayer. When she feels his growing knot begin to slow his movements, she is only able to scream as her eyes roll back into her head and she finishes on his cock for a second time.

He’s so close now, desperate for release his thrusts growing shallower as his knot begins to hold him inside her.

“Mine, mine, mine, mine”

He’s unaware of how he chants the word with each shallow, desperate stroke inside her. Tears form in his eyes at the sensation, how she squeezes his fat knot as he frantically grinds into her. Her free leg, the one his tail isn’t wrapped around, kicks out and her toes curl. Though he’s barely aware, Rolan is grateful Tav is enjoying herself as well.

When he cums, its with a shout and a gasp as he unleashes pulse after pulse inside of her. Tears run down his face, whining at how good it feels, the relief of mating almost immediate. The sensations push Tav over the edge with his a final time as she barks out his name.

“Rolan, fuck!”

He rests his sweaty head against her back and kisses her skin softly a contrast to the brutal fucking he’d just given her. She murmurs in gratitude. His body lurches and shakes as his cock throbs within her, still releasing pulses of spend deep within her.

“How long are we…”

“It should go down within the half hour, but I can’t be sure I’ve never done this with anyone… never felt like this before.”

“I love you too, Rolan”

“You should rest”

“Gonna close my eyes”

She whispers already sound sleepy and he can hear her start to drift off, exhausted from the day of packing and helping him. His heart lurches in his chest as he gently leaves more kisses on her back, softly rubbing her shoulders to soothe her as she slipped off.

“I love you more, Tav”

He whispers it to her, unsure if she’s still awake enough to be able to remember he’s said it when she wakes. That’s okay because he plans to tell her a hundred times when she wakes again and a hundred more after that.

As the fever clears, the short window of relief allowing his other senses to function he takes stock of the room around him. Broken glass and scattered potion reagents clutter the floor around them, he knows he should feel bad about the mess he’s made.

Instead, when he sees Tav beneath him his heart swells, the situation they find themselves in is overtly sexual but all he and think of is how much he loves the freshly fucked woman currently asleep on the table. He’s glad she’s resting; he intends to spend the days that follow making her scream his name until her voice gives out.

But he’s also grateful she can’t see the tears that run down his face as he worships her sleeping form, gently stroking her skin and leaving light kisses in the wake of his fingertips. This woman, this beautiful, fearless, frustrating woman had become the most important thing in his life so quickly. It scared him sometimes.

—*—*——*—*—

Downstairs many floors and streets away, and blissfully unaware Cal strode toward the Tower after visiting Lia at the Forge of the Nine. As he rounded the corner he collided with a small figure, sending them sprawling onto the cobblestones.

“I’m SO sorry! I need to pay more attention!” He began to stutter out as he lurched forward to help the figure from the ground.

“Oh, clumsy me — I didn’t see you there”

As Cal reached out to take their hand and stand them up he gasped in surprise.

“Wait, you’re…”

“Fancy bumping into you here!” The monk that Cal had met that very morning said with a smile. The half-elf woman was breathtaking, soft, sweet, and almost delicate looking.

“How…”

Cal gaped as he aided the beautiful woman to her feet.

“My name is Venetia”

“…Cal! My name is Cal!” He awkwardly laughed out as remembered his name at the last second.

“Where were you headed Cal?”

Her voice sounded so sweet and when Cal looked in her eyes, her eyelashes fluttered hypnotically. He swooned at the sight; smitten the instant they’d made eye contact.

“Home”

He pointed to the looming Tower on the skyline. Venetia’s eyes seemed to light up, Cal’s heart raced at the sight.

“Can I walk with you?”

She asked it so nervously, so sweet and shy that Cal immediately said yes without further consideration.

“Of course!”

She fell in beside him, pressing close as they turned toward the Tower and fell into easy conversation.

Tag List: @forget-me-maybe @blckvchaos @halsinningiswinning @heytheresunflower @dutifullylazybread @sleketon666

@detectivesergeant @scandistar @orangekittyenergy

@ladyofcrowsandcoffee @honeybee-bard @klea221

@beaneburrito @tsabhira05 @cchickki @purpleasters-inseptember

@reverieblondie @barbwillbrb @stuffforthestash @crowwolf

#holy rolan empire #rolan fanfiction #rolan smut #rolan rut #rolan x tav #rolan nation #rolan empire #rolan brainrot #nsft #rolan fanfic

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starsreminisce · 10 days ago

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LucienWeek2024 Day One Gentleman

Bite Me

Word Count: 3200 Rating: M @lucienweekofficial

Summary:

Lucien Vanserra is up in Velaris for yet another meeting with his High Lord. He has to remind himself that he is a gentleman, and gentlemen act with honor, but that honor is tested whenever he is close to his mate.

Read on AO3

Lucien was decidedly not having a good time as he reviewed his report on the Spring Court for what felt like the hundredth time. He didn’t need to be in Velaris for yet another meeting with Rhysand—especially not when they could’ve easily used daemati-speak. Rhys could also have scanned his thoughts and seen everything for himself.

No, Rhys had another reason for summoning him here, week after week. Lucien wasn’t sure if it was all Rhys’s doing, or if Feyre had some hand in it too, as he skimmed the report again, trying to distract himself.

And, as usual, they were late. Again. As if dragging this out would somehow make Elain do what everyone seemed to expect her to. He knew her routine by now. She’d be coming back from the garden soon, passing the sitting room to pointedly ignore him, on her way to finish baking whatever it was. The warm scent of country bread drifted through the house—simple, rustic, his favorite. Not that she knew, of course. She couldn’t possibly know how much he loved it, especially slathered with Day Court butter and a pinch of flaky salt.

The mating bond flared as she got closer, a familiar and frustrating itch beneath his skin. He gripped the edges of the paper in his hands, trying to shove the feeling aside, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself about what was really bothering him. It wasn’t just the bond. No, the bond beckoned him towards Elain, reminding him what he actually missed the most since Jesminda’s passing. He missed sex. The simple, physical act of it. He missed the buildup, the friction between two people, the release and subsequent euphoria. He missed being inside someone. And Gods, he was stressed enough that made missing it even worse.

Jurian and Vassa weren’t exactly subtle about what they were up to, and their scents had a way of rubbing salt in the wound. And as for Feyre and Rhys—they didn’t even bother trying to hide it. How Elain could stand living in this house with all of that going on, Lucien had no idea.

He let out a slow breath, forcing his thoughts back to the report. Elain was just a few rooms away, and he knew she’d slip out of sight the moment he so much as looked at her.

Still, no matter how much the bond tugged at him, no matter how badly he wanted her, Lucien wasn’t going to act on it. He was a lot of things, but desperate wasn’t one of them.

Lucien reminded himself, again, that he was a gentleman.

He decided then he would leave. He planned to drop the report with an attached note that if Rhys had some follow-up questions, he would oblige him. He finally decided this was the right course of action when a loud clatter came from the kitchen, followed by a sharp, pained “Ouch!”

He was on his feet in an instant, rushing toward the noise. When he entered the kitchen, the warm, yeasty smell of freshly baked bread filled the air, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sight of Elain crouched near the open oven, cradling her hand. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to cool the burn.

Lucien's heart lurched. Without thinking, he moved toward her. She instinctively pulled away, but he was faster, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands hovered near hers, cautious, unsure.

“Let me see,” he said, his voice low, almost a plea.

Elain shook her head, turning away as she cradled her injured hand closer to her chest, her breath shaky.

Lucien exhaled, his shoulders tensing. He carefully shut the oven door, ignoring the loaves inside.

“Please,” he whispered, his tone softer now. “Just let me help.”

She stood slowly, her body stiff, her eyes darting toward the door as if she could escape. “I can find Feyre.”

“I don’t know where they are,” he replied as he stood up as well, “but I can help.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Her hand stayed curled protectively against her chest. Then, with a reluctant sigh, her fingers loosened, revealing the angry red burn on her palm. The skin was inflamed, already rising into what would surely be a painful blister. She bit her lip, stifling a small whimper as Lucien gently cupped her hand in his.

Magic stirred within him, and a soft emerald glow shimmered between their joined hands. When the light faded, Lucien lifted his hand, revealing her palm—smooth, unblemished, as if the burn had never happened.

Elain blinked, her breath catching in her throat. She looked down at her healed hand, then back at him, eyes wide with something between surprise and wariness.

He inspected her hand for a long moment, making sure the healing was complete. His thumb brushed across her palm—softly, almost absentmindedly. Then he glanced up at her, looking through his lashes.

“Be careful next time,” he muttered, the words coming out more awkwardly than he intended.

The urgency had faded, leaving behind a charged silence. It was only then they both realized Lucien was still holding her hand—tenderly, almost protectively.

And then his body reacted, betraying him. The scent of his arousal thickened the air between them, impossible to ignore. His breeches strained uncomfortably, his cock swelling before he could stop it.

Elain stiffened, her eyes flicking down for a heartbeat before she yanked her hand away, her face twisting into a frown.

“Of course,” she hissed, stepping back, her voice laced with disdain. “Typical mate.”

Lucien blinked, caught off guard. “Typical mate?” he echoed, incredulous.

She glared at him. “It’s always the same with you mates,” she spat. “You think—just because we’re mates…” Her voice faltered, a crack in her anger revealing something more fragile beneath. “You think it’s always about that.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “I just healed you, lady,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

She scoffed. “I would’ve been fine. Feyre could’ve healed me.”

“Feyre isn’t here,” Lucien snapped, his patience fraying. “I am.”

“And yet, you came rushing in here—”

“Of course I did,” he growled.

“—to take advantage of me.”

“Take advantage? Of you?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “Typical mate.”

Lucien felt the strain of his arousal like a cruel reminder, his breeches uncomfortably tight, his body betraying him in the worst possible moment. “I am, first and foremost, a gentleman.”

“A gentleman?” Elain's voice trembled, though she tried to mask it with disdain. “A gentleman would have acted with honor. Not suddenly grown aroused by a simple touch.”

Her lips twisted as she wiped the lingering tears from her eyes.

Lucien took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his frustration boiling over. “I’ve been a gentleman long before this mating bond snapped,” he said, voice low and controlled. “My mother raised me with honor. But nothing could’ve prepared me for how that honor would be tested—by you.”

He was close now, towering over her, his gaze locked on hers. Elain glared up at him, her scowl more kitten-like than fierce, though it only sharpened the tension between them.

“That honor,” Lucien continued, his voice dropping to a growl, “grows thinner and thinner every time I’m near you.”

He paused, letting his words hang in the air. “Typical mate?” He echoed her words, but this time, they came out as a challenge.

Elain’s gaze flicked down to the obvious bulge in his breeches before snapping back to his eyes. “You mates are all the same,” she hissed. “With your … longing gazes. Cassian can’t look at Nesta without wanting to tear her clothes off, Rhysand can’t keep his hands off Feyre, and you—” She trailed off, biting her lip. “You barely even touch me and yet…”

The scent of her arousal filled the air, subtle but unmistakable. Lucien could feel his instincts begin to sing. He took her hand again, brushing his lips softly over the place where her burn had been. His voice dropped to a murmur. “A typical mate would have kissed it,” he said, his mechanical eye whirred as it focused on hers. “Shall I?”

Elain didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull away either. So he did. Slowly, deliberately, his lips pressed against the soft skin of her palm. He felt her shiver under his touch, saw the goosebumps rise along her arm.

Lucien let his lips trail up her arm, inch by inch, savoring the way her breath hitched as he neared her neck. He paused at the curve of her shoulder, breathing in her scent—jasmine and honey, heady and warm. Perfect.

“A typical mate might have bitten you right here,” he murmured, letting his teeth graze her skin just enough to tease, to hint at the primal urge simmering beneath his control.

She exhaled softly, but she stayed perfectly still, her trust evident in the way she leaned into him. His mouth hovered just behind her ear, his breath hot against her skin, and he felt her shiver in response. The effect she had on him was intoxicating, maddening—his instincts clamoring for release even as he forced himself to hold back.

Walk away, he told himself, fighting to keep the warring impulses in check. But with each heartbeat, each whisper of her scent, his restraint frayed a little more

“I could claim you here,” he murmured, vibrating with barely contained restraint. “Or maybe… you’d rather claim me.”

She should have pulled away. She should have stepped back. But she hadn’t. His instincts were overriding his control, drowning out reason. His grip tightened on her, the pulse of their bond thrumming in sync with the rapid beat of her heart.

His senses were overwhelmed by her scent, which was once pleasant and delicate but was now tinged with something deeper, something necessary. His thumb brushing against her skin made his palms shake. His entire being was in tune with hers: the rise and fall of her breath, the electric tension that kept them centimeters apart, and the charged stillness between them.

“You really are a typical mate,” she whispered, her voice threaded with her own heat, her own wanting.

“There are certain expectations of a mate,” he growled. His lips brushed the curve of her neck, just barely. “Shall I fulfill them?”

Her body answered for her—the scent of her arousal growing stronger, filling his lungs, heady and overwhelming. His control slipped, and without thinking, he pulled up her skirt, his hand slipping beneath the fabric. She still didn’t stop him. She still didn’t pull away.

Her breath caught as she pressed closer, a silent surrender that ignited something wild in him.

Lucien’s heart thundered, his pulse racing. She was soft beneath his hands, warm, and gods, that scent was intoxicating. She was unraveling him, tearing away the last threads of his restraint. The bond pulsed between them, pulling him deeper into the need that blazed in her eyes, urging him to give in.

He pressed his mouth to her neck, the gentlest of touches, as his hand slid further up her thigh, fingers brushing sensitive skin. The little left of his control was slipping, but he wasn’t sure he cared. Not when she felt like this under him, when every pulse of their bond was tethering them together in a way that made him ache with need.

And still… she hadn’t said no.

“Elain,” he whispered. The sound of her name in deep timbre crossed something between them, as if speaking it out loud had broken whatever fragile boundary still existed.

Her reaction was immediate. Her body tense and her lips part in a soft, startled exhale. Her pulse jumped visibly at the base of her throat, quickening under the delicate skin. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, as if the weight of hearing her name spoken in that way—by him—had sent a tremor through her entire body.

The bridge between their souls trickled down her need for release, the same stress, the same aching longing that plagued him. But it wasn’t just her scent or the bond that told him. He saw it in the way her fingers curled, gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. In the way her lips parted just slightly, her teeth catching the soft curve of her bottom lip as she stared at him, her eyes dark with want.

“Do you want me to keep being the gentleman I’m trying to be,” he rasped, his voice barely holding together, “or do you want me to act like the mate you accuse me of?”

Gods, he hadn’t imagined it like this—hurried and heated, driven by instinct. He’d pictured something slower, more intimate, with whispered promises and confessions of love.

But Cauldron damn him…

His fingers slid between her thighs as she parted them slightly, inviting him closer. Gently, he brushed aside the fabric of her undergarments, and found her already wet. Elain gasped, her hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he slipped two fingers through her slick heat, teasing the swollen nub of her clit. The soft sound of her moan sent a shiver down his spine, unraveling him.

“Hurry,” she whispered, but it was all he needed.

Lucien lifted her effortlessly onto the table, his hands trembling as he undid his breeches. His cock sprang free, hard and aching. Her eyes widened as she leaned back, watching him. He aligned himself at her sex, teasing with the tip of his length. Her back arched, her eyes fluttering closed.

With one smooth thrust, he buried his cock deep inside her, groaning as her warmth enveloped him fully. He waited to give her time to get used to it and to stop him if she so desired. Rather, she propped herself on her elbows. Her legs instinctually wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Hurry,” she repeated urgently.

Lucien swallowed thickly. “I don’t know if I could…”

“Don't be gentle,” Elain finished for him in a pant.

The last of his control snapped. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer. His thrusts came harder, deeper, more insistent, her body tightening around him with every movement. His thoughts scattered with every movement. The overpowering need to have her, to claim her, eclipsed everything else.

His mind was clouded with the scent of her, the feel of her. Her heat, her breath, the way her body arched and responded to him.

Mine. I am yours. You are mine. Mate.

Their breathing became one: her soft pants, his low grunts, as the room echoed the cacophony of their bodies coming together in a more and more frantic, urgent manner. He could feel her walls squeeze tighter around him, and soon her panting gave way to louder, unbridled moans.

“Look at me,” Lucien growled.

She did. Her gaze locked onto his, her pupils wide, her eyes softening as they met his. Her full lips hung open as soft gasps escaped from his every thrust.

Lucien watched as her expression shifted—her flushed face tightening, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her lashes fluttering as her eyes struggled to stay open, pinned to his. Her mouth quivered, and he could see the tension building within her, feel it in the way her body coiled beneath him, so close to the edge.

She was so beautiful.

Lucien leaned down, capturing her mouth with his, their kiss as furious and consuming as the rhythm of his body. Her hands clung to him desperately, nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, as though it’ll keep her from floating away in this storm of sensation building between them.

Her body trembled beneath him, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. Her heels dug into the small of his back, urging him closer, harder—locking him against her as the tension coiled, tightening with every thrust.

Lucien released her from his kiss. He whispered, “come for me, Elain.”

And then, as if time itself shattered, she obeyed.

Elain’s body tensed and convulsed as she reached her peak, her breath catching in a sharp gasp before breaking into a low, raw moan of his name. Her entire body clenched around him one last time, and Lucien felt his cock coated by her release. He could feel it in every part of her—her muscles locking, her back arching, her nails creating crescents into his back as she lost herself in the throes of her orgasm.

But just as she let go, her mouth found the curve of his neck. She bit down—hard.

The sharp sting of her teeth sent a shockwave through him, snapping through his body like lightning, but instead of pain, it unleashed a flood of overwhelming pleasure. The sensation of her biting—claiming him—combined with the vice-like grip of her body around his was more than enough to overshadow any semblance of laughable control he had.

With a guttural groan of her name, Lucien felt himself unravel, his release crashing through him in powerful waves. His hips bucked against her, giving one final desperate thrust. His cock pulsed inside her. The pleasure burst white-hot, blinding in the intensity, spilling deep inside her.

The moment Lucien’s release burst through him, they moved as one, their bodies united in that last, desperate hug. Her heels dug harder as her thighs cinched closer around him, as if she might pull him in any deeper. Two souls intertwined, lost in the bliss that enveloped them both, were perfectly in rhythm with each other in every breath, pulse, and beat of their bodies.

Lucien’s breath came in ragged gasps as the last of his release spilled into her, his forehead resting against hers. His body trembled, tired yet still tingling with pleasure. There was an unmistakable electricity between them, and their bond was more intense than before.

Her bite throbbed in his neck, the bruise a seal of her claim, but he embraced the sting. It bound him to her in a manner nothing else could.

For an instant, the world receded and all that was left was them—them alone—connected, claimed, utterly undone.

For several moments, neither of them moved; the only sound in the space was their heavy breathing as they were still trying to get their breath back from what had just taken place. Slowly, the haze began to lift; the awkward stretch of silence settled in as they disentangled themselves. Not looking in each other’s direction, the weight of realization impaled them—what they had done, and how intimate they had claimed each other.

They muttered apologies, neither of them quite sure what they were apologizing for. But it didn’t change the way Lucien felt. She had been worth the wait—gods, she had been worth every second. And now that he’d had her, the gnawing need to be inside her again was already creeping back, coiled tight within him. The bond thrummed softly between them, as if sated for now, content with their offering but a remainder they still need to pay.

He glanced at Elain, no hiding what had transpired between them on her appearance. He wanted to say something—anything—that might make sense of what had just happened. But there were no words for this, no easy way to explain how different everything felt now.

“I should clean up,” Elain mumbled, smoothing her wrinkled skirt with shaking hands as he pulled up his pants. She glanced over at the oven, the half-forgotten loaves still baking.

Lucien, catching her look, moved before she could. He reached for the oven door, his hands inherently handling the heat she would have burned herself on. He removed the cast irons, setting it down carefully on the countertop.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

And then their gaze met, and in that shortest of moments, the space between them just melted away. Surprised by how close they were to each other, they widened their eyes and almost in a synchronized awkward fashion, both took a step backward.

But even as the distance widened, the bond thrummed—low and steady—a reminder to them both that something had shifted, something that wasn't so easily ignored.

Elain’s gaze jerked to the mark on his neck, her cheeks going a wonderful shade of crimson. She bit a lip and averted her gaze, turned, and retreated in silence. Lucien blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Ah, well. Now she certainly won't be speaking to me.

His fingers moved to his neck, hovering over the spot where she had claimed him. He thought about healing it, erasing the mark she’d left, but… he didn’t. Instead, a small smile tugged at his lips as he glamoured it.

It was, after all, the first thing she had given him.

Turning back toward the sitting room, he prayed that neither Rhys nor Feyre would catch a whiff of what had transpired between them.

He wouldn’t tell. He never would.

After all, he was still a gentleman.

#lucienweek2024 #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien fanfic

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btsmosphere · 5 months ago

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 9: Thank me Later

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: Our villains get their moment in the sun (well, the fire…)

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 2k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing

a/n: in case anyone missed it, there has been an extra chapter this week, given the short length of chapters 8 & 9 - so, if you missed it, chapter 8 is here💜 I also reblogged a fun ask game, so check it out if you guys want to find out anything from there! remember you're always welcome in my asks whether it's for the game or just to chat about supercharged!🥰 [spoilers below] so, yn is on the team!! let's see what that looks like out in the field (or the roof of a skyscraper haha)👀

The hallway stretched away, nothing but darkness filling its bare walls. Humming in the background, the steady whir of machines from some distant room buried in the building’s depths.

Your running footsteps cut through all that.

Blood rushing through your ears and breathless gasps drowned out the night’s silence, its darkness destroyed by crackles of lightning. There was no time to form a careful glow to light your way; you sent a bolt of blue darting through the long corridor, snaking away and revealing little more than further darkness.

So they weren’t inside yet.

Impatient, you turned your palms to the back and let your powers go. A little tip you had picked up from Jungkook – the lightning launched you into the air, covering ground more quickly.

When you met the ground again, your feet were already racing.

“Do you still see them, Yoongi?”

Namjoon’s voice crackled in your ear.

“Yep, but I think they’re moving. They gave up on the east entrance…”

You couldn’t keep from rolling your eyes at Yoongi’s news. Jungkook had been guarding the east entrance, so that was no surprise.

A pause in the comms did not translate to your pace. You finally reached the end of the hallway and darted to another.

Here, several heavy doors were set into the walls. Large wheel locks hid their secrets from the world. But it wasn’t your concern what was in there. You could imagine plenty, but the task at hand was to keep them exactly where they were.

“Shit, they’re coming this way,” Yoongi cursed over the earpiece.

“The roof?”

“I’m almost there,” Hobi assured. Of course he was. With his powers, he could be anywhere on the site in no time flat.

Why was it that you were left with powers that helped nothing with physical strength or speed?

“Y/N, not that way,” Jin’s voice called you back to attention.

Skidding to a halt, you doubled back to take another turning, one you had missed in your distraction. Casting aside all thoughts of why running was so hard, you simply pushed yourself faster.

Up ahead, a lift shaft.

The call button blinked uselessly beside it. Not pausing for thought, you ignored the light and sent one of your own, much brighter and solid enough to blow the door in.

One foot landing on the fallen wood, you used it like a launchpad, two blazing bolts from your hands sending you rocketing upwards. Once you reached the elevator carriage itself, you caught hold of the outside, swinging yourself towards its entrance onto the top floor.

Here, the sound of your adversaries instantly assaulted your ears.

You didn’t know why they were bothering trying to break in when they were clearly losing. At least going for the roof had been a smart choice on their part, as the upper exits were less secure.

But they had made their presence all too obvious to give it an element of surprise.

Some crashes of impact on the metal roof rang out, heavy footsteps rattling the ceiling above you. Racing down the final, short corridor to an outer stairway, the scuffling grew louder.

Then a groan from Yoongi came from the comms. For a moment, you panicked, before hearing him speak.

“It’s Phoenix alright. Does she have nothing better to do?”

Jimin scoffed in response. “At least we can make it quick.”

Finally slowing, you cracked the side door open. Sure enough, it looked like a corner of the building was on fire. Phoenix was some upstart hero who was, quite obviously, gifted with fire. Hers wasn’t nearly as exciting as Tae’s, though, as it wasn’t purple. Just regular, store-bought orange. She had been quite vexing recently.

A stalemate had continued between Bolt’s heroes and Namjoon’s band. Fruitless battles cropped up around the place, and Phoenix was one of those trying to break through, eagerly jumping into too many of the scuffles. You almost felt bad for her. It was clear that Bolt saw her as equally disposable as you were, just some tool in his way. While she thought she was earning his favour, she was just his pawn.

There were others too, who Bolt had sent for a run with her. Neither her nor her companions had seen you, though, so you slipped out and quickly shut the door behind you, masking any light that would give the opening away.

The rickety stairs clung to the side of the building, luckily only five floors up. The powers at your fingertips admittedly lessened the fear of what would happen should you fall.

Staying pressed to the brick, you started upwards, only a few steps between you and the fight. Fiery heat pressed against you the closer you got, orange light throwing you into shadow.

As soon as you could, you peeked over the top of the roof. The cityscape opened up around you. This lab was nestled alone among a crowd of taller buildings, even the crane beside your scaffolding-clad neighbour towering higher.

On your own rooftop, nothing looked too out of hand. Hobi was successfully beating someone up, that was good.

You only spent a second scanning the scene, but when you turned to continue, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

Someone was waiting for you.

For a moment, the breath was caught in your throat, before you caught the teasing glimmer of Yoongi’s eyes.

“Don’t do that!” you huffed, only mildly annoyed as you stormed past him where he was reclining on the railing at the top. It was possible you were the only one who could see him right now.

His laughter followed you into battle as you reached the rooftop and picked up the pace, shooting blue to pierce the red flames. A moment later, movement behind them. You rolled your eyes. Phoenix could be so obvious.

You shot once more, sending her fleeing the opposite way, then another. You stepped boredly out of the path of a lick of fire that came your way.

Focussed, you raised your arms- Only for gold to shoot through the night instead, flashing in the corner of your vision, whizzing close by your head.

Momentarily distracted, you whirled around with anger written on your features, ready to rage at Jungkook.

Your teammate had just arrived, racing to join you. His hair flew all over the place, eyes glittering with steel, messy and exhilarated from the night’s action. Much to your incredulity, he met your eyes with a crooked grin.

It faded to a smirk as he came into earshot.

“Thank me later.”

Before you could respond, he had taken off. A few metres from you, he tackled a body to the ground. They had been coming in your direction.

The gun they had been aiming shot its glowing forcefield uselessly away into the night.

Maybe Jungkook was useful after all.

Turning back to Phoenix, you found her rushing around the towering flames and straight toward you. Fire grew in her wake, blooming in her footprints.

All a very intimidating show.

She leapt, and you easily struck her down, catching her chest with a well-aimed blow.

Much less assured now, you watched her roll on the ground, before rising with difficulty to her knees.

“Go home, Phoenix!” you called, “it’s a school night!”

Hearty laughter sounded from behind you from the guys. Yoongi stepped to your side from his cloak of shadow, and glaring orange bloomed on your side as well, mimicking her own fire.

Just a trick of the light, but Phoenix didn’t need to know that.

She wobbled to her feet, a cowering silhouette, while you two stood firm. Inside the illusion flames, you grinned.

Clearly the sight of the lost battle finally drove some sense into the other woman. For the first time that night, she backed away. Even so, she was slow. If either of you felt so inclined, she could have been dead before another breath.

She needed to learn to retreat.

To give her a final push, Jimin arrived at the right moment. Seeing the defeated figures crawling back to Phoenix’s side, he simply raised a hand. In response, a great groaning filled the air, all heads turning to see the unused crane that stood above you start to swing.

At first, it was slow motion, but the looming hook encroached relentlessly, suspended from thick metal rope which shimmered a menacing path through the night.

Its unstoppable advance at last made the message clear. The ‘heroes’ in its way were forced to dive aside, scrambling back over the edge of the building.

Striding forwards, you watched them leave. You were framed between Yoongi and Jungkook, Hoseok and Jimin joining your group, watching over the night as fire roared behind you.

“Inconsiderate, honestly,” Yoongi grumbled as he shuffled into his seat in the car, making room for you to clamber in last. “Doesn’t she know she’s wasting our valuable time? It’s movie night!”

“Whatever film we pick, it’ll be better than that,” Hoseok joked next.

As much as you might joke, it hadn’t been a bad fight. It was evident in the readiness of your laughter, loosened up after a run like that.

“You’re right guys,” Namjoon interjected from the front, “and we deserve a good night. But don’t treat Phoenix too lightly.”

You sobered up slightly at your leader’s words, but Jimin spoke up with a laugh.

“Why, Joon? You think she’s hiding some greater skill under all this? Maybe she’ll be dangerous one day?”

“No,” Joon admitted, “but it’s what she means. Bolt doesn’t care about this much anymore. He’s bowing out of these battles, he knows it’s small fry. He’ll be planning something else, and he’s sending her to keep us busy in the meantime.”

With that unsettling thought over your heads, the car pulled home, silent as the shadows disguising it.

Inside was soon a different story, though. You had no idea how Namjoon could have his head in so many places at once, clearly strategising and thinking over the Phoenix situation, but inexplicably laughing along with the others as they steadily regained their good mood.

Soon enough, Jin pulled up to the unassuming wall that hid your base.

In the garage on the other side, the lot of you spilled out. Jungkook and Jin were having an animated debate about which film to watch, Jimin chiming in with joke suggestions just to be annoying.

In the end, Phoenix’s fire barely left a singe on your evening.

All she provided was a source of amusement, really. When you did think of her, it was with something dangerously close to smugness. Your power, your team combined, left you so far and above her that it made you feel a little giddy.

That thought in the back of your mind only spurred you on in the training room. The rhythm you had fallen into with the others came easily: practising dodges with Jimin like a dance, laughing with Hobi even as you exerted yourself in the gym – and sharing electricity in the air with Jungkook.

You tried to ignore the way Jungkook would watch you, just at the corners of your vision.

As you practised a drill, if he finished before you (it always turned into an unspoken race), you had to force yourself to face front and complete it with full focus. There was something in the way he would appraise you, arms folded and quiet but practically thrumming with… something.

You would deny your curiosity. What did it mean to you what he was thinking? Whether it was critical, still picking out your faults, or whether it was something more... But how could you possibly hope for admiration from him?

The guy just had an intense stare, that was all. Heaven knows you’d been on the receiving end of his more chilling glares often enough.

It didn’t bother you, of course. There was plenty of praise to be had from the others as you settled into their team.

Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know what you think!💜

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook

#jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook mafia #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook enemies to lovers #bts enemies to lovers #bts series #jungkook series #jeongguk angst #jeongguk scenarios #bts mafia au

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madladysix · 11 months ago

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Missing you

Pairing: Iceman X Fem! Reader

SMUT AHEAD 18+ BE WARNED!!!

Description: after being away from each other a long time you both get it on sexual style (I genuinely cannot help myself with writing that but I also cannot write a good description for this!)

——��—————————

Tom Kazansky has been away for six months now…letters and photographs of filthy promises was enough to make any man crave the woman he loves, so within the moment of him walking through the door of his shared home…he searched for his lover…there he found her in the shower. Ice began stripping off his clothing getting completely naked and then ripping open the shower curtain staring straight at his lover’s beautiful body ignoring her scream and then giggles of surprise as he quickly maneuvered into the tiny shower…pressing her up against the wall fiercely as he kissed her with all the force of love and hunger in the world.

"Y/n," Iceman moaned into your lips, his free hand sliding between your legs, "Ive missed you more than you could know.” He groaned out, between every kiss and breath he was pressing into your lips deeper, it felt almost like he was sucking in your scent and words with the harshness of his needy kiss, but what made you feel like the Queen of the world was his greedy fingers slipping down your body and towards your folds where gentle circles were placed upon your sensitive mound. Y/n’s moans echoed upon the walls of the steamy bathroom as he continued to tease and please her with his rough digits.

Within moments her legs began shaking with need as he touched her faster, "Please... I can’t take much more Tom..” she begged between her gasps for air, "Soon." he muttered as his fingers began working even faster now, driving her closer to an impending climax but with one last deep-possessive kiss, he pulled back immediately, and moved his cock to press against her core, a small gasp left her mouth which only made him groan in response, this is what he’s longed to hear was her moans…her teasing letters and lewd photos for his eyes only that he received while out on a naval vessel 1000s of miles away from her for six months was uncalled for and only fueled his fire as he fiercely and without warning lifted her up slightly in his muscular arms and shoved his cock into her slick entrance but his movements were slow with pushing inside her, he wanted this to last, but her small gasps filled the steamy room and he knew with how much he needed this it’d be over real soon so as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, and did this with every inch before filling her up fully he said soft words to her

“I love your eyes…” “I love your voice…” “I love your skin..” he was worshipping being in her presence as he kept a steady rhythm inside of her. Ice groaned loudly as he bit the corner of her neck…Her walls had contracted around him, being far away from her for months on end not getting to see her with the fear of dying in the air came with its perks…moments like these where he can finally feel her, smell her, hear her, and he can finally release all the negative thoughts he has been harboring within his head from being away from her by just being with her right here and right now. "Fuck," he breathed, his hands finding her hips to hold onto as he began to move inside her at a quicker rate, Their bodies slid against each other perfectly, as the water from the showerhead turned cold and dripped onto their steaming bodies, creating a sensual dance with raised skin. After a while of moaning and a

The sound of skin slapping skin..Tom moaned her name gently “y/n..” it wasn’t as possessive as before it was sensitive and feeling as he released within her, she was quick to cum after him as well, they held eachother and did not part, Tom laid his face in the crook of her neck and turned the water off blindly as she held onto her body craving her warmth and soft skin…He was touch deprived and it was obvious he had been through hell in the past few months “Tom?” Y/n asked with her voice low “I’m sorry..” he whispered back with a sad sound to his voice “hey…it’s okay…” she replied with a sound if honesty in her voice as she began to think that usually the after care would be focused solely on her but tonight the aftercare would be for him.

After they got out of the shower after moments of standing there cold and shivering just holding eachother, y/n began drying his body off and getting him comfortable clothes to wear, allowing them time to get dressed in their best possible comfort outfits, she held his hand and assured his every step to the bedroom, this was the difference…you know like medium and range? Although Ice wanted to love his wife…the mental toll of months of pain and hardwork loaded down on him in the matter of moments being with the only person he can trust…and she listened to all of it..she cried with him, laughed with him, but most importantly she stayed right there with him curled up on bed laying with his head on her chest.

#val kilmer x reader #val kilmer #smut #Val Kilmer x yn #val kilmer photos #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader

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ja3hwa · 1 year ago

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Mingi + 29 if possible pls!! I'm obsessed with all your works ♡

Prompt : 29 "I can't get enough of you."

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Mission after mission Mingi grows impatient with your teasing and tonight he wanted nothing more than you see you fucked out and begging for him in the bar you just fought in.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.93k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Suggestive, Fluff, Dystopian Au

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Cowboy!Mingi x F.Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Making out, Fingering, Oral (Reader Receiving). Dirty talk. Swearing. Public sexual activities. Mentioning about railing/fucking the readers brain out. Pet names. (Y/n is not used in this story)

Note : I'm so happy you enjoy my work. And I hope you enjoy this one, my darling. ♡♡

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Stalking through the streets, gun tightly in your hand while you scope out your next target, was something you thrilled for. Listening closely to your surroundings, taking steps lighter than a feather. You were a born killer, and it made Mingi swoon every time he gets to see you in action. The way your body moves, the sharpness of your eyes, peaking through on the top of your bandanna that covers your face. You were perfect, untouchable, ruthless, and most importantly his.

You both just took out an entire bar filled with goons and undercover cops. Not one of them stood a chance when paired with the two of you. Mingi had moved all the bodies to the corner while you searched the tills and cupboards behind the bar, looking for the tip-off that you two were going to be there. And soon you found it tucked nicely under a couple of hundreds in the register. You put the money in your pocket along with the note, cause let's face it, what are dead people going to do with the money. Better you than some other scumbag coming here after you to take it.

You wiped your face with your sleeve, noticing there were blood speckles all over your cheeks and forehead. Mingi was watching you the whole time out the corner of his eyes, watching you steal, watching you nonchalantly wipe another man's blood off your perfect face. Maybe he was fucked up but he couldn’t help but find it extremely hot. You were walking power and confidence and Mingi wanted nothing more than you worship the ground you stood on. He had to continuously stop himself, from taking you in most places. When you fought off some goons a week ago he had to calm himself from wanting to pin you again the nearest wall and fuck your brains out. One time some lone fuck head tried to jump you and him in an alley and you knocked him out with one perfectly timed jab to the windpipe. Mingi tried so hard not to get on his knees and taste you until you were screaming.

Maybe you fighting off men made him horny…scratch that. It definitely made him hard.

“Min can you help me, I don’t know if I got all the blood off.” You spoke so innocently like you didn’t just kill five or six men. God Mingi’s head is dizzy. He walked over to you a little too quickly, which you noticed and chuckled slightly at it. He was quick to get to see if everything was okay. Also making sure there were no injuries since he was there. He might as well check.

“You’re all good.” He smiled, taking a step back so he wasn’t so close to you. Otherwise, he might just combust from the smell of your seductive perfume alone. You seemed to notice his actions, taking a step forward as he took another step back. And so a dance begins. Every stride you took was repeated until his legs hit the pool table behind him. He was stuck between the table, and you had to smirk at it.

“Are you okay Min?” oh don’t call him that... “Are you feeling sick or something?”

“N-no. Not at all…” He was losing it quickly, blush covered his features faster than he would have liked. His eyes darted around the room for a moment, seeing you were, in fact, completely alone, and you would be alone for at least an hour or until one of the boys went looking for you two. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart rate skyrocket. He knew you were testing him. Being a brat and seeing how far you could get him riled up. Cause in your mind he would never actually do anything, he might think it, and his lingering stares while you two were out on missions made you very aware of your lover’s dirty thoughts.

But he would never actually go through with it.

“Fuck it.” Something in him snaps, and he suddenly grips your waist, turning you around so he could effortlessly place you on the pool table. He pinned you down by your wrists, placing one knee on the edge of the wooden frame so he could then lean down to lock his lips to yours.

“Ming-ahhh” You tried to speak, but a muffled moan consumed you as Mingi bit down on your bottom lip, biting it harshly. His fingertips trail down your tactical wear, feeling the rough straps and belts. Too many straps, in his opinion. His palm found rest on your thigh, lifting it so your knee was bent and your foot was planted firmly on the edge of the pool table while the other leg stays hanging. He didn’t even speak. Instead, he gave you one more peck before dropping to his knees. His face was inches from your clothed core, and you couldn't help but wiggle in anticipation. Was your shy lover really about to taste you while in public?

“If you don’t help me get your pants off in the next ten seconds, I’m getting my knife and ripping them off.” Take that as a yes.

Your hands fly to your belt, opening buttons, and undoing loops and hoops. You swear you’ve never felt so slow opening your pants, and you are almost tempted to let Mingi just rip them off you. But before you could whine in defeat, you finally open the last button, not even bothering to pull your belt through the rest of the hoops. You just unzip them and pull them down. Mingi grabs your ankles firmly, pulling off your tactical boots before yanking the fabric off your legs. You huff, feeling like your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Your bottom half was left bare, leaving yourself in your top half, completely covered, and cute dark green sports underwear. And no, not panties, or lace, or frills. Practical underwear cause wearing anything else when you beat the shit out of someone is just uncomfortable. But Mingi loves them…Especially because he knows you’ll be wearing the bra to match, and you look so fucking good in the two-piece.

He kisses your ankles, then your calves, making sure to worship every part of soft skin he could grab. The plumpness of your thighs sends Mingi into a frenzy, wanting nothing more than to feel them squeeze around his head. His lips chomp down on your flesh, making you let out a yelp. He sucks hard, creating purple and red marks all over your legs. Possessive fuck. You thought with a chuckle, biting your lip in order to keep yourself from moaning any louder.

His nose finds your covered slit, pressing ever so lightly against it, making you whimper through your teeth. “God you smell so delicious, so wet for me.” His dark chuckles sent shivers down your spine. His fingers hook under the soaked fabric, pulling it aside so he could be face to face with your dripping pussy. He blew cold air on you, making you gasp trying to clench your legs shut, but alas his head and one very strong hand was keeping you in place. He grunted in a way to tell you off, so you spread your legs more to make him feel better. He clicked his tongue in approval, letting his hand move from your leg so he could slide his finger through your folds. He finds your clit in a second, giving it a harsh press making you cry, instinctively closing your legs again.

“Close your legs one more fucking time and see what happens.” His dark voice reverberated around the room making your whole body shiver and legs wobble. You desperately wanted to defy him but your inner voice pleas for you to hold off your bratty nature and let Mingi have his way with you.

“Please Min…” You let the voice win for once, moving to rest your legs on either side of his head. He smirked with a lustful stare, knowing he was won this little tug-of-war you two had begun to play the moment you walked into the bar. He waste’s no time in latching lips to your core since you begged so nicely. He licked a long strip along your folds, taking in as much of your juices as he could. You were like the finest honey he had ever tasted, with a sweet yet salty flavour. His assault on your dripping cunt sent you in a head spin. One hand gripping the side of the pool table while the other found perch tangled in Mingi’s short―but still pullable―hair. His fingers unlatched themselves from your plump thigh to your aching hole. You gulped feeling them dance around your entrance wanting nothing more than to feel full by them.

“You taste so much, good doll.” He hummed against your clit, slipping a finger inside you. “And you're squeezing my fingers, fuck. I can't get enough of you.” He moaned fucking your pussy with his tongue and fingers roughly. All morals have now gone out the window, if there were still any that is. He wanted you to cum, no, squirt all over him and the table so he could watch it drip onto the floor. He wanted to make you feel dirty in the best way possible. And as he added another finger deep inside your cunt, his prayers were answered. You squeezed your thighs shut against his head, rolling your hips on his tongue as he let you use him to finish. His fingers slow down in pace as your high comes to an end, and your juices gradually trickle out of you. When you were done, and your shaky legs loosen slightly, he stands up from his kneeling position with a big goofy grin on his dripping wet face.

Your face turns to a shade of red seeing you had squirted all over your lover's face, some of his wetting his vest. He didn’t mind though, in fact, all he wanted to do right now was get on the table and fuck your brains out. But alas he knew if you both were to stay here any longer, someone was bound to come looking for you. And Mingi balls deep inside you while railing you on a pool table doesn’t sound like something he would want his friends witnessing, or anyone for that matter.

So, he grabs your discarded pants off the floor to help you get dressed all the while he plans a skilled way to fuck you when you get back to the safe house. you give him a soft kiss on the cheek as a thank you, as he helps you off the table making sure not to fall from your jelly legs. “Well, I think we messed up the place enough.” You laughed gesturing to the broken furniture and men scattered in the large room.

“Yep, I think we messed it up very well.” Mingi’s voice was playful, making you question for a split second until you notice the little pool of liquid on the floor where you were sitting just minutes before. You quickly slap him on the chest, making Mingi holler out a good laugh before repeating. “I’m sorry, it's true.”

“Gross…” You replied.

- ♥︎

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

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lokischocolatefountain · 2 years ago

Text

Hurt and Protect

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Warnings: violence, bloodshed, Joel being a murderer, dub-con, mentions of drug use, choking, public nudity, sex in public, exhibitionism, slapping, hitting, moneyshot.)

Word count: 2.3k words

Summary: In a world where politeness wasn’t part of trade, it helped to have someone like Joel Miller as your protector. But to be his to protect also meant being his to hurt.

A/N: This is my first attempt at second person pov. I think this is the worst thing I have written in terms of things that will get me a VIP pass into hell. There is so much shit here like damn. So, please read the warnings above for anything that you might not like. I’m ashamed and will need 15-20 business days to recover from my shame. I hope it’s worth it lol

“Throw in your bitch and I’ll get you those 50 extra pills.”

As far as last words went, that was…unique. You stood aside, unable to do anything but watch as Joel pummeled the guy with his fist. Although, you had to say you wouldn’t stop him if you were able. The man’s trade offer angered you enough that you would have shot him yourself. But it wasn’t wise to kill your suppliers.

Watching Joel beat him up was an entirely different thing. It felt good to have a protector, an attack dog who would pounce at any threats to you even if you were perfectly capable of defending yourself. It must be why Tess kept him around. She pointed in a direction and he walked, she identified a guy and he killed. And now he was doing something similar for you. You hadn’t asked, but Jesus he was doing it just for you.

He was a sight when filled with rage. You had nothing else to compare it to of course. Rage was one of the only things decorating his features other than agony, shame and emptiness. You licked your lips as he grunted from the effort as his fist connected with the man’s head. The man’s screaming had quietened a while ago, but he didn’t stop. Jaw clenched, teeth gritted and face splattered with blood, he continued, pouring out every bit of fire he had in his eyes into the man.

As though it wasn’t enough, he retrieved his knife from its sheath and stabbed it through the man’s chest. The blade went in easily and it was then that he finally looked up from his victim and at you. Rage transformed into something else, something still dangerous but somehow sexier, you realized as you found your hand reaching between your jeans. You rubbed yourself through your thick jeans, the stitches joining the fabric in the middle seated perfectly to get some traction.

On Joel’s other side stood the man’s friend— no, associate. There were no friends in this world. He took a few steps back when Joel’s attention turned to him. But he didn’t run, seemingly frozen in place by the sheer power of Joel’s fury. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide when Joel Miller had his sights on you. It was as good as a bullet in your skull to just be targeted by him.

A crowd began forming around you, watching in morbid fascination the murder of two men. It only made you rub faster, your eyes trained on how he caught the guy by his collar and slammed him against the wall. You felt a sick jealousy growing inside you. You wanted him to do that to you, to slam you against a wall and hurt you in front of a crowd. You would beg for it if he asked you to.

The man who'd made it a habit to eye you like a piece of meat ever since you’d started trading with him looked at you. You smiled, relishing in the fear in his eyes. The number of times you’ve had to stay awake with a gun in your hand in your own apartment because you feared men like him and what they wanted to do… It was nothing short of bliss to see one of those men tremble in fear like you did, waking up from nightmares of what they promised they would do to you. “Please, please. I’m sorry— ask him to stop, plea—aaaaaah!” his begging turned into screaming as Joel’s bloodied fist connected with his face.

Joel looked towards you and smiled a sinister smile and you mewled as though it were his hands instead of his eyes touching you. His knee connected to the man’s crotch and he screamed for his god and his mother, neither alive to stop the atrocity. There was only man and the horrors he was capable of when society collapsed.

Joel’s eyes never left you as you touched yourself. He knew what his violence did to you and he was going to make every motherfucker that dared to ask for you a victim in his hunger to see what the world had done to you.

This wasn’t you before everything. You’d dated nice men who opened the door and pulled out your chair and were instantly loved by your family. Now… You wanted the likes of Joel who killed men with his bare fists for you, who would watch as you touched yourself to his violence in front of a crowd of your neighbors.

Joel pulled the half-conscious man off the wall by his shirt and slammed him back on it. Hard. The man let out a pitiful whine that was overpowered by Joel’s grunts and groans. As the man hit the wall again, Joel’s large hand around his throat, you moaned your protector’s name. He palmed his growing cock through his jeans, his lustful eyes set on you before he bent down to pull his knife out of his first victim. A little gasp was all that was heard when the blade pierced through the man’s jugular.

He pulled the knife out of the dead flesh, the blade and the handle now both a dark red from the lives it had taken. He pointed the knife at you and spoke, panting from his efforts, “Strip.”

You obeyed.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see a few people shuffling away. Parents with kids mainly. It was funny how they would watch men being murdered with their kids like it was the morning cartoon but this was where they drew the line.

You shook as you pulled your boots off and then your jeans and panties. Joel unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out, making no effort to take his clothes off. With your jacket, shirt and ratty bra joining the pile of clothes, you were completely naked for Joel and the Boston QZ. A few heads peeked out of windows in nearby buildings, their curiosity piqued by the noise.

He approached you, his blood soaked hand going directly to your cunt. Two large fingers pushed in without any warning and you whined at the sudden intrusion. You clenched around him, pulling him to you as though he was what you needed to be alive. Like he was air. Like he was water.

Joel was a man of few words and that didn’t change when he fucked. He wiped the bloody knife on your skin with practiced motions, careful not to cut you. Although you wouldn't have complained if he drew blood. He could take everything he wanted from you and you would beg him to take more, to take and take and leave you empty for him to fill you up with his needs and desires, for him to mold you into anything he wanted.

You found yourself on the floor, debris poking into your back as he hovered over you. The dead men lied on either side of you but you had eyes only for Joel, for his hunger and his lust. You moaned his name as he entered you with force, giving you no warnings to prepare for his length. You cried as you burned from how he stretched you out. You attempted to kick your legs, but his weight atop you meant that you couldn’t move an inch. You were truly trapped underneath him, your fate entirely in his hands.

You were fully willing, yet he brought the knife to your neck. He placed the sharp edge of the blade at the base of your throat and you should’ve cried but you moaned his name. You were immobile underneath him, doing nothing to further your own pleasure or his. You just laid there, a cunt in place of his fist as he rutted into you. The sounds that slipped out of your lips were not your own, we’re not even human. But he seemed to like it, pounding you in the exact same angle that made you cry so.

Images of him punching the men entered your mind and you clenched around his cock. “Hit me,” you begged. “Plea—” your cheeks stung and your head turned to the other side as he slapped you. You didn’t have to ask again. His hand struck your cheek again and again and— it burned and it hurt so good and he must’ve known from the way you tightened around him that you needed it. Needed to be violated on the streets surrounded by strangers, friends and the men he’d killed in your name.

Sounds of his quick breaths filled your ears and it had your mind reeling. It shouldn’t be possible for just the sounds of someone’s breaths to fill you up with such intense lust. But this was Joel. And it was beginning to make sense. The reason for your sickening need for the violent man. The sounds of his breaths were the same as the ones when he killed and tortured. His sounds in moments of passion— both carnal and animal were the same…

His hand came around your throat and squeezed hard. More blood on your skin. Wherever he touched, he left evidence of what he was capable of. There was no technique, no care for your safety as his hand squeezed and relaxed at a pace most pleasurable for him. Just what he wanted and how your cunt tightened around him when you struggled to breathe. If you had to breathe your last breath because it made his dick feel good for a moment, it wouldn’t bother him. It didn’t surprise you that you were unbothered by it.

His hand around your throat felt just as good as the heroin he injected into your veins to help you sleep— part of your payment for accompanying him on dangerous trips out of the QZ, trips that didn’t necessitate someone as strong as Tess. Your moan combined with the lewd squelching of your cunt around Joel’s cock.

Your legs kicked out, the gravel and stones scratching, diggin in, drawing blood. You became lost in the feeling of it all- the euphoric sensation of his hand around your throat, the stretch of your cunt around his cock, the safety of being Joel Miller’s, the knowledge that everyone in Boston now knew what you were. It all became too much to bear, pushing you over as you found a high you would forever chase in drugs only to realize that he was the only one who could provide it to you. It was the moment he made you his, whether or not he wanted to own you.

His hand left your throat in search of the next piece of your flesh he could use for himself as you gasped, drawing in every bit of air that you could. His hand found your tits, alternating abuses between the two as he pinched, slapped and mauled the flesh. His hands wrapped around your tits, using them for purchase as he pounded into you, the force pressing you hard against the ground.

The world returned around you as the haze of your orgasm dissipated to provide some clarity. More men were left in the crowd than women. Some had their hands on their crotch as they used your humiliation to satiate their needs. If Joel wasn’t occupied with you, those men would lose their hands. Potentially more. It should scare you, the eyes of so many men, many with the worst intentions, pleasuring themselves to your body. But it didn’t. It was now well established that you were Joel’s. There didn’t need to be a label of friend, fuckbuddy or girlfriend to give you the protection that belonging to such a man did. You would not be spoken to rudely again. You wouldn’t have to fear late night knocks on your apartment door. Not even a fool would ask for his use of your body as a tool in negotiation.

Joel pulled out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing at the loss of him. In the few minutes he had filled you up, he’d made your body forget what it was like to not be wrapped around him. His loss felt like the withdrawal between periods of finding the drugs you needed. You cried his name and your fingernails lodged themselves in his back as you attempted to push him back on yourself. But he moved up your body, stopping with his cock over your face. You gasped at the sight of his length coated in your slick, shocked that you’d been able to take all of him. He pumped his cock a few times before he came, spurting ropes of his cum. The red on your face mixed with his release.

It only took him seconds to recover. He tucked himself back in and zipped his jeans up, restoring his dignity as you laid bare for the city to watch. He collected his equipment from around the ruins of you and the men he killed for you- guns, knife and both your backpacks. He bent over and grabbed you, pulling you to your feet by the strength of just one arm.

You stumbled, but he grabbed you by your hair before you fell. Doors and windows shut as realization dawned on the residents of the Boston QZ that their heads would roll if Joel’s thirst for blood hadn’t been satiated for the day. The crowd began to disperse. The audience ran in the opposite direction as Joel paraded you through the streets, on full display for anyone who thought they could speak to you the way the men had spoken. It was a warning— this is mine and mine only.

His to hurt. His to protect.

Read more of my Pedro Pascal character fics

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