#true blood gif pack
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leiaofrph · 1 month ago
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By clicking the links below you will be taken to pages with 611 gifs of actress Anna Paquin in her role as Sookie Stackhouse in season 6 of True Blood. All of these gifs were made by me so please don’t claim as your own, post in a separate post, or post in your own gif hunts. If you would like to crop these into gif icons please message me first as I would like credit if you redistribute. Credit includes tagging me in your hunt, and including a link to this pack on your post.
Please do not add this pack to masterlists without contacting me first.
Please make sure you have read my rules before you message me about editing.
You can find the rest of my gifs of Anna here.
Please reblog if you use or are a RPH and spread the resource around.
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part 1 // part 2
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atlantica-princess · 6 months ago
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PHOEBE TONKIN: ICON PACK
available to purchase for digital download + private viewing page
Included within pack: total 518 icons
DASH SQUARE ICONS 100X100: COUNT 177
CIRCLE ICONS 150X150: COUNT 49
SQUARE ICONS 150X150 COUNT 81
CUT OUT ICONS 250X250 COUNT 25
CUT OUT COLOURED BACKGROUND 250X250 COUNT 17
SQUARE ICONS 250X250 COUNT 169
she is cis female and uses she/her pronouns please use accordingly. the pack includes a range of images predominately gathered from her instagram. all of these icons were made by myself with own colouring so please do not claim as your own or repost + share as that's not cool folks! support really means the world so if you fancy giving it a little like/reblog I'd be very appreciative
please click link here to purchase on ko-fi (thank you so much!)
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lovelikewarcreations · 2 years ago
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If you click on the source link you will be able to find 189 GIFS of actor NATHAN DEAN PARSONS as James in True Blood - Season Seven Appearances. These gifs were made by made, I don’t have any set rules on them just don’t claim them as your own. If you found these useful please like or reblog. You can tag @lovelikewarcreations​ if you make anything with these, I’d love to see them! If you like my work a tip is always appreciated. TRIGGER WARNING: Getting high, kissing, other people drinking. Use source link to find all gifs.  
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legends-and-savages · 6 months ago
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Tag Dump
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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 2 - Adjustments
Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.
Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“She was lying.” 
Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 
“About how she got to the institute.” 
“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 
“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 
“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 
Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 
Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 
Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 
Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 
Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 
Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 
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You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 
Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 
You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 
You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 
You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 
Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 
Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 
They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 
You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 
You wonder if they ever get a break. 
Maybe this is a break for them. 
You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 
Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 
You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 
Except you don’t know your pack. 
What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  
Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 
You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 
Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 
Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 
You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 
You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 
As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 
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You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 
A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 
You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 
You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 
Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 
You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 
Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 
“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 
“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 
You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 
“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 
Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 
Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 
“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 
“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 
You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 
Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 
Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 
The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 
You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 
“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 
“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 
You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 
Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 
He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 
It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 
“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 
“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 
You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 
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You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 
“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 
His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 
You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 
You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 
She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 
“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 
American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 
“Captain John Price.” He says. 
You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 
“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 
Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 
You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 
Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 
“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 
She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 
“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 
“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 
Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 
“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 
You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 
Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 
“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 
“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 
“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 
“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 
You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 
Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 
“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 
Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 
“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 
“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 
You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 
“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 
A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 
“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 
“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 
You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 
Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 
The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 
“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 
You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 
“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 
You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 
“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 
This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 
You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 
Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 
Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 
It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 
Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 
You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 
Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 
Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 
Or maybe they would have been worse. 
“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 
“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 
You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 
“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 
Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 
“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 
“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 
“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 
She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 
“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 
“And how did that go?” 
You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 
“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...
You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 
He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 
“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 
She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 
Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 
“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 
You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 
“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 
“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 
“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 
You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 
“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 
You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 
His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 
You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 
The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 
You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 
You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 
“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 
He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 
Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 
Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 
Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 
You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 
Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 
“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 
The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 
Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...
You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.
Was he...laughing at you? 
Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 
“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 
“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 
He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 
You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 
What to do about Ghost.
He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 
You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 
An unneeded disruption to their lives. 
You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 
You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 
“Can you get a book for me?”
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You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 
“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.
“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 
“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 
“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 
You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 
Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 
“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 
“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 
“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 
“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 
“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 
Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 
You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 
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Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 
“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 
He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 
“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 
You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 
He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 
You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 
“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 
You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 
“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 
You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 
You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 
“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 
He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 
NEXT ->
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Taglist:
@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx, @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @blue-blue0, @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey, @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee, @141trash @ghostlythots, @lothiriel9, @dillybuggg, @beebeechaos, @konigsmissedbeltloop, @kaoyamamegami, @thychuvaluswife, @idkkkkkkk8363, @wallwriterstuff, @bisky-business, @smile-child-13, @anomiatartle, @dangerkittenclaws, @bless-my-demons, @mystic60, @evolutionarry, @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff, @cadotoast, @linaangel, @rancid-wasp, @codsunshine, @thriving-n-jiving, @slayerx147, @ferns-fics
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idkfitememate · 1 year ago
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A Boar? In This Economy? Pt. 1
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♡︎ « Next Part ⋙
૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN!Boar Reader x Genshin World
૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 922
໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Crack, fluff, found family
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So, SAGAU right? Imposter ver specifically, right? Alllll of Teyvat has been ruled by some asshole who claims to be the creator, right?
Welp.
It’s time for you to get your ass isekai’d!
One problem though….
Instead of getting your phone, or having all the elements under your belt, or anything else…
You’re a boar.
Not like a “BiG tUsK sPeCiAl PaTtErN” boar.
Just a boar you can find in the starting areas of Mondstadt that just so happens to have golden blood.
Fun.
Hell, when you first woke up, you were confused on why you were short. And why you were in fours. And hairy. And why your mouth felt so damn heavy. And dragging yourself to a small pound, you figured out why.
Shaggy brown hair and small beady black eyes staring back at you. Large, off white tusks block your forward vision so you move to the side in order to see yourself better. Designs in a darker brown line your fur, a small tail flailing in the wind.
And that is how you spent your first few months in Genshin Impact.
A simple boar trying their damnest to not die.
૮꒰づ��• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰��⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
Apparently spending time by yourself makes the human mind bored (pun intended).
So.
You decided to build a boar friendly base in the trees.
You noted that all mobs weren’t hostile to you, most likely due to your god status. That and Teyvat was willing to literally bend itself backwards in order to ensure your survival. Making sure only the freshest of fruits fell to your feet, ensuring that the waters were calm when you wanted to swim, and that the winds would gently blow you off, making your fur all fluffy, so on and so forth.
It was especially nice when a hunter had their sights set on you, only for a pack of hilichurl to appear and slaughter the man, the ground swallowing him up.
Now, the first few times it was fucking horrifying, but then you kinda realized you they didn’t do that, you’d be super dead right now, so you pushed an apple over in thanks and took all the headpats you could get from the group.
Anyway, back to the main topic.
You got bored (pun intended again) of living on the ground where anyone could find you and kill you, and that was no fun! So you found a nice mountain side (since you didn’t have a map, you couldn’t say right off the top of your head where you were but you knew full well it was by Dragonspine. Gods you were so cold… but I’d be worth it!-) with a nice forest next to it, and began building.
With the help of nearby mita and lawachurls and - of course - Teyvat itself, you carved into the side of the mountain, creating a cave system that only a being as short as you could traverse. Then, you connected them to a large treehouse system and continued to work on said treehouse system. Someone would have to be focusing damn hard and not fighting the actual army of churls and slimes and other beasts that made their way to stay beneath your home to actually see… well your home.
And up you went.
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍰🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
More months had passed, and confirmed many things for you.
A. The true “Imposter” had came here long before you.
B. They very weren’t a boar.
C. You did have a human form, but your “Creator” form had a boar as a symbolic animal.
Which, while initially was a little insulting, you came to (reluctantly) agree that, yeah. That was unfortunately pretty accurate.
You could be a bit sloppy at times, keeping a good appearance wasn’t at the absolute top of your list, as well as eating well… or drinking, but still!
You continued your now lavish boar life in the trees and caves, no longer bored (I’m not sorry for reusing this pun.).
૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍫🍦🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚
You had been in Teyvat for… a year now? No one suspected a boar of being the true creator, everyone was still being treated like shit by the “creator” and you were still tucked away in your little forest/cave structure home.
You got a little curious, and well?
You found that you could - in fact - do something cool!
You could control the elements! Outside of Teyvat just doing things that were in your best interests. You could grow vines! And spit fire! And burp lightning and squeal hard and loud enough that it created a whirlwind!
You could part the seas like Moses!
Anyway-
You may have gotten a bit carried away, feeling secure in where you were. So you let the churls braid some parts of your fur, and paint it… and they gave you a mask.
And you’d chase seelies. And rest with slimes.
And just do a lot of shit that most boars definitely couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t do.
And unfortunately, one night when you were doing a fire dance with one of your favorite hilichurl camps. (They were the ones to kill that first hunter. They also gave you your first mask and paint job).
Completely enveloped in the current happenstance, while you breathed large balls of fire into the night that somehow didn’t injure a single being nor set a single tree alight…
You missed the boy who believed he was a wolf watching from the shadows.
…Oops?
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໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I’m shocked people actually like this thingy lol. Part 2 is on the way! As a treat, I fixed up some typos and fixed some grammar mistakes!
Have a good day/night dears! <3 ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
P. S. Now I made a tag as well!
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just-some-random-blogger · 4 months ago
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Snow Angel
Jacaerys' Version
I'll angel in the snow until I'm worthy but if it kills me, I tried.
Gwyane's Version ❄ Daemon's Version ❄ Aegon's Version ❄ Aemond's Version ❄ Jacaerys' Version ❄ Cregan's Version ❄ Criston's Version
Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!Reader | 800< | cw: fem!reader, targcest, reader is aemond's twin, angst, violence, blood, war, death, typos, etc.
A/N: renee rapp my beloved. jacaerys and aemond's version go hand in hand
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You remember talking about running away with Jace when you were kids. You told him about your plans to pack your dresses, flee on your dragon, and live off lemon cakes. You cried when he laughed at you and swore never to speak to him again.
But then he did what he did best and cast your worries away. He panicked, unintending to cause you sadness, then made a fool of himself until he got you to smile. And when you did, he promised to himself never to make you cry again.
"Why do you want to run away anyway?" Jacaerys asks after you were calmer, finding a place beside you on the grass on which you sat.
You wipe your nose on your sleeve and give him a look, "is it really not obvious?"
He grows a bit nervous. He internally denies it's because he's made you cry.
"You like teasing Aemond," you turn to your shoes, "Aemond likes teasing me-"
"He does?"
You turn back to him.
"Then I will fight him for it."
"But that's the problem Jace!" you feel your lips quiver, "it's all so horrid. I don't like how you fight," you pull on the grass, "I don't like how he fights me. I don't like fighting."
For a moment, Jacaerys feels guilty. He regrets arguing with Aemond... but then again, he deserved it.
"I don't understand," you speak quietly, "we're twins. I am his half and he is mine. We shared the same womb and yet he acts like we share nothing in common..." your voice becomes shaky, "why does he dislike me so?"
Gods, he so deserved it.
You muse to him about other things your wretched twin brother has done to you, and this becomes your ritual. Every time you are together, you vent to him, and he listens. But one day, his family leaves King's Landing and, again, he does the thing he's promised he'd never do: he made you cry.
He writes to you every week after leaving. He tells you how much he misses you. He tells you how much he misses your laugh, your bad jests, even your dolls, and how Vermax was lonely without your dragon to fly with.
And so one day, in your reply, you ask to fly with him in secret. You ask to meetup somewhere no one would think to look for either of you, then you spend the day enjoying each other's company. None would know about your whereabouts but each other.
But then your family fractured, there was them and there was you, and you found each other opposite sides. One day, you simply could not take it, so you wrote to him: meet me in our secret place.
In truth, you did not expect him to show, but when he did, you were relieved to see him... until he opened his mouth.
"What do you want from me, Aunt?" Jacaerys spoke.
You knit your brows, "what?"
"Have you come to surrender? To pledge yourself to the one true Queen?"
You shake your head in disbelief of what you were hearing. You walk towards him, "Jace, I-"
"She will accept you," he says, "she will accept all of you. You need just bend the-"
"Run away with me," you press your hand to his chest.
He stares at you, nostrils flaring, line forming between his brows.
You rapidly shake your head, "you know that's all I've ever wanted. To be done and rid of this bother."
Jacaerys takes your hand and whispers your name, "you know it is not that simple."
"We can make it simple. Let us ride off and-"
"You have a duty to your family, as do I."
"And what of the duty to our hearts?" you clutch his hand. His jaw clenches. You mutter, "there is no greater duty than fulfilling that of what's borne from love."
He does not respond to you. Your eyes search his. Your grip tightens. He releases you. Soon he's breaking his promise all over again. Tears spill over as you pull away from him, "am I not worthy enough of even this?"
He calls your name as you step back. Before he can speak, his attention is taken by the sky and the loud sound of flapping dragon wings. It was unmistakably Vhagar.
You are unable to keep him from riding off and facing the gargantuan. You look up and watch your brother unleash his fury upon him. You knew better than to get in the way, but you would not have Jacaerys killed when you were the one who called him here in the first place.
You get on your mount and do your best to catch Aemond's attention. You scream and shout but to no avail, not until your dragon knocks into the tail of your twin's.
You did not expect him to be so angry. You did not expect him to attack you. You could do nothing as you watched your dragon choke in the maw of your brother's ride. The sound of your own screams deafen you, and so you hear not the sound of him screaming out your name.
And as you descend from the height, Jacaerys is mortified. He commands Vermax to catch you, and he tries his best, but even his best was not enough to save you from your end.
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sugurouge · 4 months ago
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— sting: alpha!miya atsumu x omega!f!reader
content warnings! DARK CONTENT, taboo topics, non-canon, (pseudo-)incest, stepcest, omegaverse, heavy topics of jealousy, possessiveness, dubcon marking, begging, very submissive reader, cheating, breeding kink, dubcon knotting, obsession, some blood
summary: in a society divided by secondary genders, a young girl is adopted into the prestigious miya family, defying conventions due to her undeniable charm & precious nature. as you grow up, your bond with atsumu shifts, leading to a complex mix of emotions & forbidden desires
wordcount: 4.6k
fyi: atsumu & reader were pretty much attracted to another since her secondary gender was revealed. reader is one year younger than the twins
a/n: for @goxjo's omegaverse collab! make sure to check out the other works if you've enjoyed my lil story. pspsps thank you for letting me join, aki my luv (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)
──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.
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In a society where the hierarchies of alphas, betas, and omegas define social standing and family legacy, adoption is a rarity. Families fiercely guard their bloodlines, refusing to weaken their position with the introduction of an outsider. Yet, in the case of the Miya family, exceptions were made when they saw you. Abandoning a helpless young girl you was never an for your future mother. You were too precious to be left behind.
From the moment your adoptive parents met you, it felt like a blessing. Your sparkling eyes and adorable smile captivated them in an instant. You, in all your little glory, were a true delight.
Neither you nor your new family can recall a time before you became part of their lives. The notion of your adoption was never mentioned, for it didn't matter. To you, they were simply your family, your pack. The protective embrace of the Miya family, renowned alphas, became your sanctuary. Under their care, the eventual reveal of your secondary gender was irrelevant. What mattered was the bond, the love, and the undeniable connection that tied you all together.
To your older brothers, you were their cherished little sister—sweet, gentle, and always eager to bridge the gap between them. You strived to ease their conflicts and show your love for each one of them, appreciating their unique qualities and talents equally.
Yes, you had no favourite. You loved them equally, and they both loved you in return, as their family. Until one didn't. Until something changed.
Suddenly, one of them seemed bothered by your mere presence. Always leaving the second you entered the same room, averting his gaze if your eyes were to ever meet, and ignoring your entire being at school.
This intoxicating, honey-like vapour with hints of candied oranges radiates out for metres around, drenching the halls of Inarizaki High and leaving Atsumu drunk on you.
He can't think straight, can’t focus on sports or academics. You’re the unofficial reason girls are now banned from volleyball practice. Even worse, you’re practically banned from his life. The shift from affectionate brother to distanced meanie was too sudden for you to not feel hurt. So much for your sweet sixteen…
You practically ruined him overnight, your secondary gender holding effects unexpected to it. Now, instead of grabbing ice cream as a group of three, it's you alone. Unless Osamu can join, but even that seems to annoy the faux-blond. He seems irritated by everything you do or do not do. You’re lucky if he walks off without saying a word, as every time Atsumu loses control over his emotions you end up crying in your mother’s embrace. He locks himself in his room and tries to rid himself of the nasty thoughts and feelings he holds inside.
But then there are moments...
Moments when he turns soft, when you meet at night by accident in the kitchen and he’s too drowsy to control his instincts. Suddenly, gentle eyes can't seem to look at anything but you. Suddenly, the smallest space between you seems unbearable to Atsumu.
And you let him. You’re no better.
You embrace him, gently running your fingers through his hair, and hum softly—your tender care is utterly captivating. How could his hands not grasp the fabric of your shirt, his arms tightening around you to hold you close, as the warmth between you rises and your hearts beat in unison?
Yet, it all fades at the break of dawn.  Only a faint blend of your scents lingers—reminiscent of breakfast, with comforting notes of cinnamon and sugar. 
It’s as if the scene abruptly shifts, like a sudden cut in a film. The atmosphere returns to its former state, and you find yourself once again only conversing with Osamu. 
◈ 
Until you turn 18.
Until your first heat starts. Your nest made of anything you could grab in time, stealing blankets, pillows, an accidental hoodie of Atsumu.Something about it seemed so awfully comforting, you couldn’t refuse.
At night, you weep with your face buried in the fabrics, trying to muffle the sounds of your distress while immersing yourself in the rich aroma of cinnamon and spice. You’re burning from the inside, the need to rip your skin from your bones is almost unbearable. Your feverish state leaves you crying under the moonlight's embrace, a trembling plea of desperate longing echoes throughout the night. You crave, you need, more.
But what about your brothers? While they were both forced to wear earbuds and use scent blockers, one suffered just as much as you. Instincts, after all, cannot be completely suppressed.
Atsumu groans, his head sinking into the pillows of his bed as his eyes flutter shut.. God, he loathes this. Loathes having to run his own hands over his physique to remove his shirt. He would much rather feel your soft fingertips dip beneath the fabric and explore his heated torso. Every passing second more agonising than the one before. His only refuge is the enveloping darkness as he presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape the burning torment he's sinking into. He can hear you through the walls, your whines and moans of pain piercing through his solitude.
He really needs to move out.
Your parents welcome you into adulthood, finally granting you the freedom to seek out your life partner, your mate. Yet, your brother won’t even give you the chance to explore this new chapter.
No, after that night, everything changes. He’s unnervingly close, pressing himself against your back, shamelessly inhaling your scent, burying his face in the nape of your neck. He decks you in compliments and constant touches.
Suddenly, he's everywhere around you, determined to keep anyone else at a distance instead. He insists you wear his jackets to school, wrapping you in his scent and effectively isolating you from the world. His overprotective behaviour is so extreme that even your parents are baffled by Atsumu’s mood swings. His intentions unclear as they all believe in the family bond you all have built over the years. 
And you never voice a word of complaint. You would never even dream of challenging Atsumu’s behaviour. In fact, you seem to revel in it.
Despite Osamu’s growing suspicions and the concern it stirs in your parents, their advice falls on deaf ears. Both of you refuse their suggestion: after all, he’s your brother! You feel secure with him close by and aren’t ready to meet your alpha yet. So, your parents can only observe from the sidelines, hoping and praying it’s smooth sailing until the twins move out.
Until the nest is empty.
What they don’t know is how your older brother projects the echoes of your cries and whimpers during your nights in heat onto his fleeting encounters. At 26, he remains resolutely single, every blind date a disappointment, every hookup unsatisfying and hollow. The desire he feels for you overshadows every attempt at connection, leaving him unfulfilled and unwilling to commit.
Everything seems colourless, flavourless-until family calls.
You’ve moved abroad for your studies, seeking to put distance between you and Atsumu, desperate to suppress the sick thoughts and desires that have plagued your mind. You hoped that a change of scenery, far from Japan, would help you start fresh, to find your alpha and live a life untainted by these unsettling feelings.
Yet, returning home for Osamu’s engagement presents an unexpected challenge. The stage is set: the occasion is beautiful, with halls adorned in flowers and sweets to celebrate the festivities. But amidst the elegant decorations, nothing captivates quite like you. Your presence is intoxicating to Atsumu, who can hardly contain himself. Forgive him for losing his composure. Don’t mind the intense stares from across the room, the desire pooling in his dark eyes that burns into your back. Promises made to his brother were forgotten the second he got a glimpse of you.
Suddenly, the suit feels too tight, the necktie suffocating, and his palms dry. Here you are. You, in a stunning dress that accentuates every curve. You radiate a glowing allure that confirms—you're at your prime, ripe for the taking.
A strong arm wraps around your waist, the heat of his body searing through the fabric of your dress. Without needing to turn, you already know who it is; his name escapes your glossed lips. “Atsumu.”
He pulls you close, his presence enveloping you, his voice soft and sheepish against your ear. “I’ve missed ya,” he confesses, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.
You’ve missed him too, of course. Yet you tried to replace him with someone morally acceptable—a volleyball player from New York, who bore a slight resemblance to your brother. But could he ever truly fill the void left by Atsumu?
The sweet mixture of scents turns sour before you can even reply to Atsumu, before you can admit how much you’ve missed him as well. His fingertips explore your neck, lingering on your scent gland, fainted dents still feasible for his touch. The pressure borders on painful, as he demands an answer with a dangerous edge: “Who?”
If looks could kill, you’d be a dead woman. Your anxious scent mingles with his anger, creating an intense atmosphere that seems to draw everyone’s attention. The events unfold faster than your family can react. You feel the sting of his nails digging into your skin, jealousy manifesting as sharp pain as blood threatens to stain your dress.
Osamu, ever the protector, shields you from Atsumu’s anger, ensuring to guide you out of the halls in a rush. “I apologise for what he did,” the dark-haired twin mumbles, as he patches you up. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this, I promise.” He meets your eyes with a searching look. “He swore to keep his distance. And I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.”
You finally admit in defeat, “He couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to pressure him either—it’s too soon for him to fly over ten hours just to meet my…” You hesitate, casting a glance around the room as a deep sigh escapes you, “…family.”
Osamu nods, understanding. He returns to kneeling in front you, his expression filled with concern. “I hoped that after all these years, Atsumu would have cooled off.”
You cut him off, feeling an odd need to defend the blond. “He never did anything wrong,” you insist, trying to convince both Osamu and yourself as your gaze falters. “I’m just as much to blame as he is.” With this declaration, you rise and offer Osamu your hand, helping him back to his soon-to-be wife and the rest of the guests.
Nothing could have prepared you for the smell—the overpowering stench that no flowers could mask. Atsumu sits at the table, his eyes unfocused as your father speaks to him, the words a blur as his lips move too fast for you to catch. You only learn the outcome of the conversation when your mother asks you to approach your oldest brother.
Standing beside him now feels different, a new layer of fear creeping into your emotions—something you never anticipated feeling from him. “I’m sorry,” Atsumu finally breaks the heavy silence, straightening up to face you while avoiding your eyes. “I guess my protective instincts went a bit overboard after… all these years.” He clears his throat, cringing slightly at his own words.
With all eyes on you, you can only hum in agreement before you’re guided to sit beside Atsumu. The effort to mask the sour scent of his anger and soothe him only possible with you being closeby. You have to forget about your own feelings for the day; after all, the event is meant for enjoyment and celebration. Every smile you force, every laugh you share feels tainted with an aftertaste of discomfort, yet you try to maintain a semblance of normalcy, for Osamu.
But the close proximity—shoulders brushing, hands fleetingly touching, eyes meeting—heightens the tension between you. Your heart races uncontrollably, and shivers travel down your spine, each sensation a reminder of the internal struggle between your morals and instincts.
Atsumu, everso selfless, extended an offer for you to stay at his apartment. It was a gesture of goodwill, though it now feels like an unexpected complication. No one anticipated his behaviour would spiral this much, especially after the plans had been made. Your parents, trusting their children, hoped that Atsumu would have matured enough and that staying at his place would be more comfortable for you. They assumed you were busy enough with your studies and the hassle of flying back home to Japan that they simply decided for you weeks ago.
But as the door to Atsumu’s apartment clicks shut, the reality of the situation settles in. The safety of this space, the sanctuary you hoped for, now feels like a fighting ring where the unresolved tension might only grow.
Atsumu carefully guides you to your room, setting down your luggage, while repeating the same sentence over and over in his head: “Let her in and leave, lock your door, go to sleep.” Yet, as he turns to face you, his presence looms over you like a storm, his hands grazing your neck with a possessive, almost reverent touch, as his eyes lock onto yours.
“Who?” he asks again, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that sends shivers down your spine.
The blockers you’ve relied on falter under the overwhelming force of his scent, a potent mix of spice and raw desire that fills the room and stirs something deep and primal within you. You try to form a coherent response, try to remember the name of your partner, but your mind is consumed by the intoxicating presence of Atsumu. Each breath you take is thick with his scent, and you find yourself struggling to maintain a shred of rational thought.
Your attempt to explain dissolves into a stuttering mess, and all you can manage is a pathetic, “Not you.” The words escape your lips as a weak, desperate whimper, and Atsumu’s reaction is immediate and intense. A guttural groan of frustration erupts from him as he seizes your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest. His powerful arms encircle you, creating a cocoon of warmth that feels both incredibly comforting and alarmingly suffocating.
You can’t deny the wave of relief that washes over you as his scent engulfs you, blending with your own and heightening the undeniable ache between your legs. The slickness pooling in your panties is a blatant testament to your arousal, and Atsumu’s keen senses pick up on it immediately. His fingers dig into your body with a possessive urgency that makes your head spin.
A mental war rages within you: the clear, rational part of your mind screams that this is wrong, that your relationship with Atsumu is taboo and fraught with complications. But it’s overpowered by a darker, primal greed that drives you to clutch at him with a fervent need. You can’t ignore the way your body responds to his touch, the way every fibre of your being craves him despite the guilt and confusion clouding your thoughts.
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips brush against his neck. A desperate plea slips from your lips, echoing a longing you can no longer suppress. “Alpha…”
Atsumu’s groan vibrates through your body as his lips trail down your jawline, a possessive hunger that makes your knees weak. His tongue flicks over your scent gland, marking his claim with a rasping, “Mine, always been mine.” And it all gets too much for little you. Tears stream down your cheeks as you plead, “Tsumu… please…” Each cry is a mix of desperation and guilt, torn between what you know is wrong and the overpowering need within you.
“You’re telling me you belong to someone else? Yet you beg for me,” he speak lowly into your ear. As his sounds and murmurs fill your ear, the boundaries of right and wrong blur, leaving you surrendering to Atsumu’s fierce desire. His hands grip your waist with a primal hunger, the scent of desire thick in the air as he towers over you. 
You shake your head, incoherent cries escaping your lips. “Just you… Ever always… Tsumu… Yours…” Atsumu’s breath hitches as he nips at your neck, his canines grazing your skin with a tantalising edge that sends shivers down your spine. The primal need within you breaks free, overwhelming your morals.
His erection presses against your tummy, the scandalous sensation causing a moan to escape you. You arch your body, craving the heat and pressure only he can provide. Atsumu’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he revels in your response.
“Good omega,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. His hands explore your body, tracing your curves before sliding under your dress to caress your bare skin. Every touch is electric, fueling the fire between you.
When his fingers brush against your damp panties, Atsumu’s leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, every part of you.” You moan in reply as his touch makes your body tremble, his weight pressing against you with a throbbing intensity.
“Please…” you beg, grinding against him, seeking more friction. “Tsumu… I need…” The energy almost driving you to come undone already, each touch overwhelming your self-control.
Atsumu’s movements are motivated by an insatiable need, his rough hands unrelenting as he pushes you onto the bed. “I need you,” he utters, his voice thick with desire. Your heart pounds, anticipation and desperation spiralling out of control as he undresses, his clothes hitting the floor in a blur. The raw need coursing through you is almost unbearable, each second that passes intensifying your craving. His every movement is a tease, a promise of the release you’re aching for, and your body trembles with a desperate hunger that feels as though you need him to survive.
He tears away your dress with frantic urgency, his lips scattering kisses across your exposed skin. “So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His touch ignites a fresh wave of need as his lips trail down your collarbone, his fingers finding the hem of your panties and stripping them away with fervent determination. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice a low rasp.
When he finally tastes you, his tongue exploring your core with hungry abandon, each lick fuels the fire within. “More,” you plead, “Please, Tsumu, more!”
He hums in approval, swearing to himself to give you everything you crave. As he positions himself between your thighs, his body presses against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Atsumu’s breath comes in ragged bursts as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with an almost feverish desire. “Maybe I should just fuck you senseless,” he muses, his voice thick with hunger. You whine in need, your body trembling as you practically drool over the sight of him. His slightly too-big cock rubs teasingly against your folds, each friction sending jolts of pleasure through your core.
“Gonna fill that sweet little cunt with my cum…” he groans, his words a sultry promise as he coats himself with your juices. Without any further preparation, he pushes into you. The stretch is overwhelming—too much, too good, too painful, yet just right. It’s as if he belongs inside you.
Your body arches instinctively to meet him, a desperate cry escaping your lips as you revel in the sensation. The connection between you both is undeniable, and with each inch that he sinks deeper, you’re consumed by the desperate need that has built up between you over the years.
Atsumu moans in response to your cries, his voice a low growl. “Breed you all day long, fuck…” he continues, his words a promise of unrelenting passion. He pauses for a moment, his hand gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place. The tip of his cock presses deeply into your fluttering walls, each thrust reaching parts of you that make your body shiver.
“Not already coming from just this, are you, baby?” Atsumu growls, his breath hot against your skin. His voice is laced with a mix of teasing and hunger, the edge of possessiveness clear in his tone. When you nod, your soft mewls send shivers through him.
Your arms tighten around his neck, pressing your face against his warm, soft skin as you beg, “Please, plea—ah, take care of me.” Your desperation is punctuated by those pathetic little whimpers, a level of need that drives your Alpha absolutely insane.
Atsumu pulls out of you momentarily, his gaze locked on yours. He groans, “‘Course I will,” before his hips snap forward again, plunging into you with a relentless force. Each thrust is driven by years of pent-up frustration and need, every motion filled with unfiltered desire.
You writhe beneath him, consumed by an overwhelming urge for his bite, his cock, his knot. You crave to be filled to the brim, your body yearning to be stretched and stuffed until you're perfectly round and swollen. “Tsumu” Your voice is desperate, barely recognizable as your own, laced with need. “I'm breeding your sweet little cunt and you’re going to take every. single. drop.” With the last words he already thrusts harshly into you. Big hands claw into your waist, forcing your body to arch helplessly as he dominates you. His thrusts are deep and relentless, each powerful movement making the fat of your ass jiggle. “Such a good bunny…” Atsumu groans, his voice dripping with possessive satisfaction.
“Now, come for me,” Atsumu commands, his gaze fixed on your quivering form. “Come all over me.” Desperation claws at you as you seek your release, your weak hands scratching at Atsumu’s back, leaving red streaks that burn on his skin. Legs spread wide for your alpha, your breasts bounce with every forceful thrust of Atsumu’s hips, connecting with yours in a delightful rhythm. Pleasure clouds your mind, reducing you to a chant of his name, each utterance a desperate plea.
Atsumu's mind roars with need as he looks down at you. He wants to mark you, claim you completely, and breed you. Now that he has you beneath him, he is determined to savour every moment, to ensure you are utterly his. He wants to see you drunk on his cock, to take care of you, his darling omega, until all but him is forgotten.
Atsumu feels you clenching around him, your tightness pushing him to the brink. “Just like that, good girl,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The desire in his eyes is fierce as he thrusts deeper, the remnants of his control fraying with every movement.
With each powerful thrust, Atsumu's need to possess you grows. He envisions you marked, claimed, and filled by him, an unbreakable bond forged in this moment of passion. The rhythm of your bodies is a dance of primal desire, your cries of ecstasy blending with his guttural groans. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and need.
As you feel the peak of your release approaching, your body tightens around him, every nerve ending aflame with sensation. Atsumu's words, his touch, his presence, all coalesce into a symphony of desire that drives you over the edge. You tremble beneath him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.
You ache for him to release inside you, to fill you to the brim with the warmth you craved. The slap of his thighs against yours, the wet, frantic noises, and the erratic breaths all that fills the space between you. His strong scent envelops you, mingling with your own, as his fingers find your clit, rubbing with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, stars exploding behind your closed eyes, your mind unable to grasp anything but the ecstasy he is giving you.
Atsumu’s chest presses heavily against you, a constant reminder of his dominance. “Don’t ever forget—” he rasps, his grip tightening on your hips. “That pretty cunt… these perfect tits… every damn inch of you belongs to me.” His words were a possessive threat, a vow of ownership.
He has you, his delicate omega, completely at his mercy. He's never going to give you away again. He feels high thanks to the way you unravel beneath him, turning you into a trembling, sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the sheer force of his desire.
In that moment, you both reach the pinnacle of your desires, your high-pitched moans intertwining with Atsumu's deep, guttural ones. And he fills you so deliciously. Atsumu’s knot swells, pressing tightly inside you as he fills you with his cum. Each pulse of his release sends waves of ecstasy through you, making you feel as if you’re on the brink of losing yourself. His teeth bite down on your neck, and the stinging sensation sends lightning to course through your weakened frame, chiselling your bond in stone. It feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you, your bodies entangled in a state of perfect, overwhelming bliss. “Mine, all mine...” the hushed promised whispered into your nape.
As the sensations finally begin to recede, you drift into unconsciousness, the warmth of sleep enveloping you and providing a hazy escape from mistakes made in the dark.
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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year ago
Text
No secrets around here ~
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Thank you all so much for 1K followers <3 <3 <3 I am undeserving but very appreciative. I am working on Bully Part 3 but please have this one shot as a token of my love.
It's a story suggested by my patron! If you'd like to suggest prompts for me to write, please consider checking out my patreon (link in bio) <3
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Summary : Satoru and Suguru find out that their sweet, seemingly innocent girlfriend writes smutty fanfiction. They decide to make her fantasies come true while also making sure to teach her that keeping secrets from them have consequences <3
Contains : Fem reader. Established relationship. Degradation. Threesome M/M/F. Gojo and Geto being mean but with love. A bit meta.
Tumblr media
“Dude- Suguru- SUGURU!”
“Stop yelling, Satoru.” The raven-haired man whined, rubbing a hand over his face as he was barely awake, “You better be dying if you’re calling me at 3 in the morning.”
“Oh, trust me, you’ll wanna hear what I say.”
“Get to the point.”
“Ok, so you know how every time we visit our cutie, she’s super protective of her phone?”
“…Yeah.”
“And how she immediately shuts her laptop close if we walk in?”
“…Yeah.”
“I found out why. I just sent you a link.”
Satoru hung up and Suguru groaned, looking his phone annoyance before the ding of a message received rang out. He raised an eyebrow as he read the message, the link opening upto a website called…tumblr? He was aware of the site but it never interested him enough to truly put any effort into finding out more about it. He also knew of the concept of fanfiction (thanks to a certain someone) and knew that Tumblr had a lot of creators posting their fanmade content.
But he had no idea it was…something like this.
Reader is being a brat and gets put in her place – Fem Reader X Demon Slayer men.
Where the men of One-Piece love to cum <3
Dick headcannons, a.k.a. who among the Honkai men are packing~
Suguru scoffed as he scrolled down the posts, surprised at how lewd this author was. Their writing was filthy and degenerate yet written fairly well. If he wasn’t so sleepy, Suguru was sure he could jerk off to a story or two. The comments under the posts were just as feral, people going crazy over the fanfictions, often proclaiming their desire to be with these…fictional men? He didn’t quite understand it but who was he to judge.
He paused as he read the title of a post, letting out a hum as the title hit a bit close to home.
Reader gets pounded roughly by her two boyfriends.
It was a post with thousands of notes which got Suguru curious. He clicked on the tag labelled #two boyfriends and was surprised to see several stories written by the author of the reader having two lovers and their sexual escapades together:
Reader gets both her holes stuffed with cock. Or the two boyfriends compete to see who can get her to squirt first. Reader is spanked silly and can’t sit properly for days. As punishment, the two boyfriends overstimulate the reader for hours, making her cum over and over again even as she begged them to stop.
The list went on and on and on, making the blood rush to Suguru’s cheeks at how raw and filthy and…desperate these fanfictions were.
His phone dinged, a message from Satoru which reminded the black-haired man of how he wound up here to begin with. So there are some smutty fiction online, but what does it have to do with you? He could only come up with one conclusion but…that couldn’t be it. Right?
Satoru <3 : Did you see all the two boyfriends fics?
Me : Yeah. You’re not saying that…she wrote all of this, are you?
Suguru waited with bated breath as the three dots danced on his screen, Satoru typing out the answer. You were someone who refused to even curse in daily conversation! There was no way… He choked as he got a response, Satoru simply saying:
What do you say we show our baby how much better her real boyfriends are?
~~~~~
“Boys!” you whined as Suguru and Satoru stuck close to you, one on either side, “I’m trying to cook here!” “We’re not stopping you!” Satoru said with a pout as he placed his cheek on top of your hair, “We just wanna be close to our baby. Is that so bad?” “Exactly.” Suguru purred as a hand came up to wrap around your waist, pressing himself close to you, “Is loving you such a crime?”
You rolled your eyes at their theatrics. One thing worse than having one dramatic boyfriend would be having two. Not that you were complaining, of course. How on Earth could you be upset over having the two most powerful sorcerers be your lovers? It sometimes felt like a dream- that these two had fallen in love with you and were over by your place for a domestic night of homecooked food and movies. They were more clingy than usual, a hand or lips always on your body at all times. You caught them exchanging glances with each other once in awhile but you simply ignored it. It wasn’t the first time your men had this telepathic communication going on between them. As long as they weren’t planning on pranking you, you decided to simply focus on the meal you were cooking.
“So, babe,” Satoru purred as he placed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You’re on Tumblr a lot, right?”
You scoffed, “You know I am. Why’d you ask? You finally wanna join?”
“I sure do!” he responded, “And if you had told me about all the porn that was on that website, I would have joined sooner.”
“Porn?” you repeated, confused, “What are you talking about? It doesn’t allow-”
“All of that smutty fanfiction- I was up all night reading them!”
You froze, hoping that the two of them didn’t notice. “Oh, uh, yeah there’s a lot of that.”
“And, you know, we found this…writer.” Suguru said, his voice dripping like honey as his hand ran up and down your waist, “Who writes the most…filthy things. Degradation, spankings, brat taming, not to mention threesomes between two men and a woman. Kind of similar to us, right?”
You gulped, trying to focus on your food even though your mind was running a mile. Did they know? How did they find out? You were so careful of your things! You always made sure to have an eye on your phone and laptop so how did they…
“Well, only the threesome parts.” Satoru said, “We’re not nearly as kinky as the people in those stories. We could be, of course, but we wouldn’t want to scare our baby with how…intense we can be, right?”
“Of course.” Suguru purred, leaning forward to kiss your temple, his lips soft against your skin, “Our sweet princess is so innocent and vanilla. How on Earth can we treat her like the girls in those smutty, dirty stories? We have to make love to her like the Queen she is. There’s no way our baby would like to be punished or have her pussy filled until she’s bred.”
“Exactly.” Satoru said, noting the way your breathing was quickening, smiling as he saw your ears turn red, “Unless…there’s something she’s not telling us.” You gasped as his hand trailed down your back, making you shiver before it landed on your ass. You mewled as he grabbed a cheek harshly, his fingers digging into your plush skin, both of them so close to you that you could feel their hot breath against your burning face.
“So, sweetheart.” Suguru said, a twinkle in his eye as he turned off the heat of the stove, gently taking your utensils out of your hands, “Anything you’d like to share?”
You gulped, Satoru squeezing you greedily and making it difficult for you to form sentences, “H-How did you find out?”
“Well, I might have peeked at your phone when you left it unlocked yesterday.” Satoru confessed, “I wasn’t planning on looking but when I saw the notification of someone begging you to write more of your threesome content, well, curiosity got the better of me.”
“Our baby has such naughty fantasies,” Suguru said, not giving you a chance to respond “But she kept it all to herself like a bad little girl. Why didn’t you tell us?” he leaned down to nibble at your ear, loving the cute yelp you let out, “Did you think we’d judge you?”
“I- I don’t know…” you mumbled, face so red it felt like steam was coming out your ears, “It’s…embarrassing- ah!” Suguru moved downwards and kissed your neck, his teeth digging into the sensitive patch of your skin, making you cry out loud. Satoru pouted before he let go of your ass, only to swing his hand down and give your butt a sharp slap, making you yell loudly.
“We could have been fucking you like the dirty slut you are, but instead, we held ourselves back because we didn’t want to scare you off.” Satoru growled, his hand making its way to your hair, grabbing a handful before he pulled harshly. You gasped as your head was tossed back, your boyfriends face looking down on you as his grip on your hair continued to be tight and unforgiving.
“Every time we fuck you- we’ve wanted to go wild.” Suguru confessed, his large hand slipping into your shirt, making you shiver as he touched your bare skin, “So next time, just be honest and save us the trouble, hmm?”
“You’re going to make it up to us.” Satoru said, leaning down to kiss your lips, a quick peck before he pulled away, a dark look in his eyes, “Get ready. We’re making those fantasies come true.”
~~~~~
Your hands trembled, instinctively tugging at the handcuffs that held you tight against the headboard. The cool metal dug into your skin, showing no signs of letting up. Hands handcuffed above your bed, naked as the day you were born, you were at the mercy of your two men and they made sure of that.
Suguru giggled at your cute little yelp as he increased the speed of the vibrator, his grip of the wand tightening before he pressed it down harder on your clit. You screamed around Satoru’s cock, the man’s dick shoved down your throat, making you gag. He was practically straddling your head, knees on either side of your shoulders while Suguru sat between your spread legs, their eyes greedily taking in your nakedness.
“Yeah? You like that?” Satoru asked, looking down at you with a teasing grin on his face, sweat dripping down his brow. He was naked, veins throbbing in his arms as he gripped onto the headboard tightly, rolling his hips into your face, groaning at the sensation of you trying your best to take his fat dick. “You like that vibrator on your slutty little pussy, don’t you? Hmm? Like having my cock down your throat?” he asked, pausing his thrusting for a second to fully press his cock deep inside you, laughing as he felt you gag loudly around him.
“Oh, she loves it~” Suguru purred, dick aching in his boxers (wearing nothing but his underwear) as he ground the wand vibrator against you, mercilessly attacking your clit, “Her cunt is dripping~”
“Poor baby~ You must be so pent up since we’ve been making love to you like you were a princess. Guess we have to fuck you like a whore, hmm?” Satoru asked, biting his lower lip as he started thrusting into your mouth again. His muscles tensed, tossing his head back to moan as your sweet little tongue lapped at the underside of his cock, his heavy balls pressing against your chin every time he thrust.
“Stay. Still.” Suguru said with a click of his tongue as one arm gripped onto your knee tightly, the other still torturing you with the vibrator, “Keep moving your legs like that and I’ll punish you.”
You whined, your sounds taken by Satoru’s member, your body getting overstimulated. With a fat cock down your throat and Suguru playing with your pussy, you couldn’t help but start trembling, trying to push your legs together to give yourself a break from the onslaught on your cunt- but Suguru was having none of that.
He ignored your yelp as he pulled the vibrator away, taking away your pleasure so suddenly. But you barely had time to process that as he raised his hand and brought it down on your pussy, giving it a harsh, tight slap. You screamed from the pain, the vibrations of your mouth making Satoru moan as Suguru started spanking your pussy again and again. Slap after slap rained down on your cunt, the raven-haired man holding one leg tightly by the ankle while pushing away the other with his knee, truly keeping you spread as he spanked your pussy.
Your whole body writhed from the pain, the stinging sensation of Suguru marking your puffy pussy lips red. Your hands struggled against the handcuffs even more, your torso tossing and turning, Satoru giving you some mercy as he gently pulled his cock out of your mouth.
“Sorry! Fuck- I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” you pleaded through your gasps and coughs, and crying as Suguru slapped your cunt so hard it made you dizzy for a second, “Please- no more!”.
“No more what?”
“No more spankings- P-Please! Please don’t s-spank my p-pussy!” you begged, ears turning red from the embarrassment. You heard Satoru giggle above you, the man clearly more sadistic than you ever imagined as he tugged at his member, enjoying the scene of his best friend breaking you down perfectly. Even him touching himself right in front of you was torturous, your eyes homing in on the precum dripping out of his red tip, his cock covered in your saliva.
“I thought you liked it, baby.” Suguru said, taking some mercy on you as he gently rubbed your cunt, easing some of the burn, “Your characters get their pussy’s spanked so often. Don’t you feel bad for them if it hurts so much?”
“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You sobbed, “It hurts- fuck- but it hurts so good!”
“Fuuuck Baby!” Satoru groaned, gripping the base of his cock tightly, his face red and excited, “Almost came from that~ I love seeing you look so pathetic for us.”
You whimpered, turning your face to feel Satoru’s warmth as he gently wiped a tear away from your eye. Suguru chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss to your cunt, your skin hot against his lips. Your back arched as he ran his tongue up your pussy, the man groaning as he tasted your slick, drinking you down like a drug.
“Oh~ I want a taste of that pussy too~” Satoru purred before he changed his position. Your eyes widened as he turned around, adjusting himself so his cock was once again over your face only now, he was facing your pussy in a classic 69. “Open up, princess.” He said, smirking as he pushed his cock into your mouth just as you opened your lips, “Suck my cock while we- oh yeah- play with this pussy~”
Satoru grabbed the back of your thighs, holding onto you tightly as he dipped his head between your legs, Suguru moving out of the way so his friend could mouth at your pussy. You squealed around his cock, the man already starting to thrust as he wrapped his lips around your clit before he sucked harshly. “Mmmph- fuck yes~” he moaned, lightly picking up the pace as he once again started fucking your throat, “This pussy is so fucking tasty~”
He opened his mouth wide and started flicking his tongue on your clit, letting out a lewd sound as he tortured your sensitive bud with his tongue. Not one to sit idly by, Suguru allowed his friend to tongue your cunt while he gently slid a finger inside you.
“Look at that. My finger went in so easily, baby.” Suguru said as he gently thrust the finger in and out of you, “This isn’t enough for you, is it?”
You whined around Satoru’s cock, unable to respond. But they understood. Suguru slid a second finger inside you, the slick sound of your cunt parting for him echoing through the air lewdly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers inside you just right, pussy gushing from the sensation. Satoru was still licking at your clit, giving your bud the occasional nibble to keep you on edge.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Suguru asked as he watched Satoru lick you up, his own fingers drenched, your juices dripping down, “Cock in your mouth as we play with your pussy like you’re our little toy~ Our sweet little fuck toy we can use?”
Your toes curled and your muscles tensed, opening your throat up as much as possible as Satoru mercilessly face fucked you, his balls slapping against you as he chased his pleasure. The metal of the handcuffs dug into your skin, your fingers clenching around nothing as you were driven closer and closer to your orgasm.
You were so close you could taste it, your mind descending into nothing but pleasure, the two men perfectly breaking you down into the slut they know you are. You fantasised about them as you wrote your fanfiction and for it to actually be coming true- you didn’t know how to handle it.
You were so close- so close! Your body tightened and your pussy clenched around Suguru’s fingers, the familiar sensation of an orgasm making itself known. You already knew this would be one of the strongest climaxes you’d experience and it almost scared you. But you were ready. You wanted this. You needed this. You needed them!
Your moans picked up the pace, getting louder and louder around Satoru’s cock, still obediently sucking him off as your body trembled. You were gonna cum! Cumming- cumming-
Only for them to stop.
You let out a scream as Satoru pulled his cock out of your mouth, both of them able to hear your shouts. You arched off the bed, your body trembling from the sudden absence of pleasure, your legs kicking at the mattress like a toddler as you writhed on the bed.
“Why? Why- I was so close- so close!” you sobbed, tugging at the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to touch yourself, only for it to be futile.
“Aww, poor princess.” Satoru cooed, kneeling over you still, his cock dripping your saliva back onto his face lewdly, “did you really think it would be that easy?”
“We’re going to edge you all night.” Suguru said, finally undoing his boxers before pushing it off, getting completely naked, “It’s your punishment for keeping your sluttiness a secret from us.”
You could barely muster up a protest as you were distracted by Suguru’s cock. His cock was just as beautiful as Satoru’s- long, thick and oh so delicious. He took your breath away everytime he got inside you, his skills rendering you a whining mess.
“If you try and cum without us knowing,” Suguru said, knowing your body like the back of your hand and well aware that you were close to your orgasm, “You’re going to be in a world of pain. Now come on. Beg for it.” He started teasingly slapping your pussy with his member, each strike making you twitch, “You know how to beg, right? Your characters beg so sweetly in your stories- I’m sure you can do it too~”
You gulped, mouth drooling and pussy trembling, their hard cocks right in front of you but refusing to get inside you. “P-Please.” You pleaded, feeling a rush of shame overcome you by uttering the word. “Do better than that.” Suguru said, his hand now on his member and lightly stroking it, showing you what you were missing out on. “I- Fuck- I need you! Both of you!” you said desperately. “Keep going~” Satoru purred, his tip just a hairs breath away from your lips, also close to orgasm, “what do you need?” “I need- fuck- I need your c-cocks!” you begged, tears in your eyes as you shamelessly conveyed your desires, “I need you inside me- I need you to fuck me!” “Good girl.” Suguru said, groaning as he finally- finally- started to push inside you, “And remember. No cumming.”
You tossed your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Suguru started spreading you apart, inch after inch burying into your sopping cunt. It was a delicious sensation, his cock stretching you out wonderfully, his thick cock giving you a nice burn. Suguru hissed as his dick was enveloped in your tight wetness, the texture of your pussy walls hugging it perfectly. His balls clenched and he knew he wouldn’t last long- the feeling of finally being able to treat you like the kinky slut you were driving him to the edge. They don’t call him a pleasure dom for nothing.
Without even saying anything, Satoru took advantage of your open mouth to jam his dick back inside your mouth, laughing at the surprised yelp and loud gag you let out. “I’m close baby~” he moaned as he was surrounded by your addicting heat again, “Make sure you drink it all when I cum down this slutty mouth pussy~”
They both started to fuck you mercilessly at once. And all you could do was lie there and take it. Suguru made you wrap your legs against his waist, leaning into you as he started pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you each time he thrust into you. Your pussy was so wet and hot- the sensation like a drug as he pounded you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust.
“Fuck- I love this fucking pussy!” he groaned, tossing his head back as he mercilessly pounded you, chasing his pleasure, “So perfect for us- so greedy and desperate- want to fucking ruin you!”
“Mmm~ I can’t wait to fuck this slutty cunt~” Satoru said between moans, fucking down on your mouth as a hand came up to spread apart your pussy lips, giving him a perfect view of Suguru fucking your hole. “Pass me the vibrator, will you?”
You yelped, knowing exactly what he had planned as Satoru got a hold of the vibrator, switched it on before he placed it against your clit. You screamed around his cock, body thrashing at the overstimulation. The toy rubbed against your clit, the speed on the highest setting, making your vision blurry as he assaulted your sensitive bud.
“Fuck- oh yeah- that’s fucking great!” Suguru moaned, the vibration of the toy giving him added pleasure as well, “she tightened around me so much- fuck- slutty little pussy!”
You were in heaven and hell. The two men were using you in such a filthy fashion, making your body tremble from the intense pleasure. Suguru was fucking you so perfectly, his cock hitting your g-spot every time he thrust into you, your pleasure heightened by Satoru playing with your clit. He’d use the toy or sometimes even lean down to lick at your clit again, his hair brushing against Suguru’s abdomen every time he thrust forward. They were both so desperate and horny for you and it was amazing.
But, every time you were close, they’d stop.
You didn’t even need to say it- your moans and your body language was enough for them to know when you were about to cum and every time, without fail, they’d ruin your orgasm. Suguru would pull out and Satoru would stop playing with your clit, opting to slap your pussy and call it a ‘bad cunt’ as he took your climax away from you. Suguru once pinched your clit so harshly you swore you blacked out. Once they thought you weren’t going to cum, they’d get back into it.
“Oh baby!” Satoru moaned, finally reaching his climax. He forgoed the toy and instead focused on fucking your face, wanting to cum, “I’m close! Yes! Yes! Oh you naughty little minx! We’re going to have so much fucking fun with you!”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you got pounded from both ends- your jaw beyond sore. With a few more thrusts, Satoru finally came. He tossed his head back and moaned loudly, his cock lodged as deep as it could go inside you. He started to cum down your throat, giving you no choice but to drink it all up. You could feel his balls clench against you as he came, his hot seed pouring down your throat, warming you up from the inside.
“Ohhh yesss!” Satoru moaned, his body shuddering as he gently thrust his hips, milking his balls of every drop, “That’s it- oh yes~ That’s a good slut~”
You gagged around him, struggling to breathe and to drink down his cum, happy to have given him pleasure but distracted by Suguru still pounding into you. You were waiting for Satoru to get off of you and give your jaw some peace but…
He once again got his face close to your pussy, resting his elbows on the mattress and his chin on his hands as he stared like a pervert as Suguru fucking your cunt.
“Enjoying the show?” Suguru asked with a laugh, his body running a bit hotter at Satoru staring.
“Mmhmm,” Satoru said with a smile before he addressed you, “Keep cockwarming me, baby. Get me hard again so I can fuck this pussy next~”
Oh. Oh God.
“Fuck- I’m close!” Suguru groaned through gritted teeth, “And she’s close too- I can feel it!”
“Yeah?” Satoru asked, rolling his hips in a circle as he leisurely enjoyed your mouth like it was a fleshlight, “Should we let her cum? She’s been such a good girl for us.”
You whined around him, feeling like this entire night was you whining, trying your best to beg around Satoru’s cock in your mouth. You could feel him grow harder inside you, the sadist loving the fact that he made you so pathetic.
“Nah.” Suguru said, sweating as he pounded you mercilessly, “Not yet.”
“You hear that, baby?” Satoru asked, “You better not cum~”
You sobbed, tears pouring down your cheeks as they decided to continue torturing you.
“You gonna cum inside her?” Satoru asked his friend, knowing him well enough to know he was about to cum. “Fuck- I want to so fucking badly but- I don’t think she deserves it yet!”  “Awww, the poor thing. She has such a huge breeding kink too!” “I know. Fuck- I’d love to dump inside this cunt and breed her but- fuck- I still think she needs to learn her lesson! Naughty little sluts who keep things from their boyfriends gets fucking punished! Oh fuck- yes- cumming- I’m cumming!”
With a shout, once again denying you your orgasm, Suguru quickly pulled out of you with the intention of finishing on you. “Fuck- Satoru!” Suguru moaned as the white haired man suddenly grabbed his member and started jerking him off. Satoru laughed at Suguru’s moans, his hand almost a blur as he jacked off his best friend, aiming the tip right at your pussy. In a matter of seconds, Suguru let out a loud moan as he came, tossing his head back as the pleasure hit him like a truck. He trembled as ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock, his balls clenching with each pump as he came all over your pussy. He stained your cunt white, making you whine as all of that cum wasn’t pumped inside you.
“Oh~ Look at all that cum on this pretty pussy~” Satoru moaned, letting go of Suguru to instead pet at your pussy, his fingers rubbing the cum into your skin before he collected a bit of it on his fingers to shove inside you. You gasped, body still on edge, your mind a mess of pleasure and humiliation as Satoru stuffed his friends cum into your pussy. He took some mercy on you and pulled his cock out of your mouth, enjoying your gasps and moans as you took in deep breaths, choking on your own spit as he got off of you.
“Please!” you begged, crying and you voice hoarse, “Please- Please let me cum! I need it! I’ll do anything!”
“Shhhh, relax, princess.” Suguru cooed as he and Satoru switched places, the white haired man settling between your legs with his cock hard once more, eager to fuck your cunt. You whimpered and cried as Suguru lied down next to you, his dick still hard and ready for more as he leaned down to kiss you, a sweet moment among all the depravity.
His hand gripped a breast, squeezing your boob as he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth and making your body tingle from the sensation. He finally parted just as Satoru slipped his dick inside you, smiling as he watched your eyes water and your jaw drop from the sensation.
“Don’t start crying already, baby.” Suguru said, watching as your body started to bounce up and down from Satoru’s thrusts, Satoru immediately fucking you in a fast pace, “We’ve only just begun~”
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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 6 months ago
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Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 1: Welcome To A New Kind Of Tension]
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Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍
Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.
Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.
Chapter title is a lyric from: “American Idiot” by Green Day.
Word count: 5.1k
💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜
Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰
“What do you think, should we kill ourselves now or later?” Rio is spinning his Beretta M9 around on his index finger. This is not advisable. He doesn’t care.
Your hands are gripping the skeletal latticework of the transmission tower, steel hot enough to burn you; no electricity hums in the power lines suspended above your heads. Your eyes are on the horizon, golden June sunlight over fields no one has planted. Weeds are growing up through the earth, feral and defiantly useless, reclaiming their land just like the deer are, and the rabbits and the opossums and the turtles and the squirrels and the doves. The reign of humanity is over. Now you’re prey animals too. “Let’s wait.”
“For what?”
“Maybe someone will save us.”
“Ain’t nobody coming, Chips!” Rio says. “We’re a hundred feet off the ground in the middle of nowhere, motherfucking Catawissa, Pennsylvania, and we haven’t run into anyone since that Amish family back in Lightstreet, and I wouldn’t count on them driving by in their horse and buggy to pick us up.”
“We’re about sixty feet off the ground.”
“Okay, Bob the Builder, why don’t you whip up a helicopter or something to get us out of here?” Rio’s M9 has one bullet left in it, yours has three, nowhere near enough. At the bottom of the tower is a swarm of fifty-four zombies; you’ve counted them twice. There are no cute euphemisms: walkers, biters, the infected. They were once people and now they’re not. They wear the vestiges of their former lives, like how those who believe in reincarnation see meaning in birthmarks: here you were stabbed, there you were kissed by your true love. They lurch and snarl and hiss in their professional attire, college t-shirts, Vans and Jordans, septum piercings, wedding rings. They decompose in a miasma of metallic blood and spoiled meat. Parker had been the last one to the transmission tower, and they grabbed him by the legs. Now they’re chewing the gristle off his bones: disconnected ligaments that swing like strands of cobwebs, scarlet threads of muscle. “Oh shit,” Rio says, looking down. “We’ve got a smart one.”
Most zombies don’t have the fine motor skills to climb, swim, or open doors, but every once in a while—just like out of every 5,000 or 10,000 or however many ordinary humans you’ll pull the lever on the genetic slot machine and get a Picasso or a kid who can score a 1600 on the SATs—you run into an overachiever. This zombie, a teenage boy with red hair and a blue plaid shirt, is slowly scaling the tower. He’s already ten feet off the ground.
Rio aims his M9, semiautomatic, packs a punch but won’t break your arm with the recoil. “Fuck off, Ed Sheeran!” He fires and misses; the bullet grazes the boy’s shoulder. He groans dramatically and asks you in defeat: “Will you take care of that, please?”
You pull your pistol out of your holster and lean away from the tower to get a better angle, holding onto the scaffolding with one hand. You feel Rio’s large fingers close around your wrist, ready to yank you back if you slip. You click off the safety with your thumb, peer through the front sight, aim and wait until you’re sure. It’s a headshot: shards of skull ricochet off steel beams, half-rotten brains spray out in a mist. The carcass plummets to the earth.
“All this horror, all this catastrophe.” Rio’s eyes, dark like a mineshaft, drift mischievously back to you. “We could…distract each other.”
He’s not serious; this is a game you play. “No thanks.”
“You don’t want to die a virgin.”
“I do if you’re the only other person up here.”
“You deny a condemned man his final wish?”
“We’re not dying,” you insist. “What about Sophie?”
“Sophie would understand given the circumstances. She would want me to be happy.”
“What if we have sex and then immediately thereafter get rescued? You’d be a cheater. You’d be consumed by guilt. You’d never be able to take me back to your parents’ doomsday prepper cult commune in bumblefuck Oregon to wait out the apocalypse in peace.”
“You’re going to appreciate those doomsday preppers when you’re eating Chef Boyardee out of a can instead of shuffling around as a reanimated corpse.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” you muse. “So you agree we’re going to get off this tower somehow.”
Rio sighs and whistles a morose tune: what a shame. “You should have gone out with that Marine at Corpus Christi.”
You frown, repentant, wistful. There’s nothing on the horizon except fields and trees and black storm clouds of crows taking flight. “I was afraid of making a mistake.”
“And now look at you. About to die as pure as Pope Francis.”
“How did this happen?! We’re not idiots, we’re goddamn professionals!” You re-holster your M9. You’re still wearing your uniforms from when you went AWOL, stealing away from Saratoga Springs like rats from a sinking ship.
“I’ll tell you exactly how this happened. You let that loser Parker come with us even though I knew it was a bad idea—”
“I couldn’t just leave him there! He started crying!”
“And he had one job, which was to check the oil in the Humvee, and clearly he failed because…” Rio glances at his watch. “Approximately four hours ago, the engine started smoking and the whole thing died on us, so we had to get out and walk, like we’re pioneers or some shit, and then that hoard down there came out of nowhere, and the only place left to go was up. Freaking Parker. I could murder that guy.” An awkward pause. “I mean, the zombies beat me to it. But still.”
“He had two jobs. He was also carrying the extra ammo.”
“Don’t remind me.” Rio isn’t messing around with his M9 anymore. He’s contemplating it as the sun hovers just past noon, hot and shadowless. “How many bullets do you have left?”
“Two.”
“Good. Don’t use them.”
You look at him, this man you’ve known for over four years, this man you’ve traveled the world with. You’ve already gone so much farther than Oregon together. How is it possible that what was once a six hour flight is now a month-long journey that might kill you? “It’s not over yet, Rio.”
“Remember what you promised me.”
His hushed voice in the moonlit indigo of the Humvee the night you left Saratoga Springs: Don’t let me die alone. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to make it to Oregon.” Then you grin, sweltering summer air breathing over you, humid, heavy, the screeching of insects in the trees. “But if it comes to that, I’d be happy to shoot you first.”
Rio smiles as the zombies below growl and claw at the steel framework of the transmission tower. Flesh peels off their fingers until you can see the gore-stained white of their bones. “Don’t miss.”
“I rarely do.”
“Do you have any more packs of Cheddar Whales in your pockets or—?” He cuts off as he spots something in the distance. His eyes go wide, his jaw drops open. “What…what is that?!”
It’s an SUV, massive, dark blue, rumbling across the field in a dust storm of displaced earth. It’s headed straight towards you. There is someone standing up through the sunroof, short dark hair that whips wildly in the wind, binoculars. You can hear the engine revving and, faintly, Kanye West’s Gold Digger. As the SUV nears the tower, Sunroof Kid ducks inside and closes the hatch.
Rio explodes into hysterical, rapturous laughter. “Oh my God, we’re saved! We’re not going to die up here! Oh, thank you, Jesus, thank you. I’m never going to jack off on Sundays again.”
The SUV, still accelerating, plows through the mob of zombies. Severed limbs go flying; bones crunch and snap. There’s a woman driving, you can see now through the slightly tinted windows. She puts the monstrous vehicle and reverse and does another pass. Zombies paw futilely at the sides of the SUV, a Chevy Tahoe, as it turns out. They smack their open, soggy palms on the windows; they gnaw and lick at the bumpers and the wheel wells. The Tahoe circles to regain speed, the engine growling, a bear, a dragon, and barrels into the remaining ambulatory zombies. The hoard is now largely incapacitated. Rio is cheering and clapping his hands.
The Tahoe’s doors open, and your rescuers appear. There are two men wielding baseball bats: one with long dark curly hair, the other tall and blonde, and there’s something wrong with his face, the left side, though you are too far away to see clearly. They move rapidly through the battlefield of felled, moaning bodies, swinging their bats and crushing skulls. There’s another blonde guy, shorter, softer, pink with sunburn, wearing plastic sunglasses and a teal polo with a popped collar. He’s spinning a golf club in his right hand. He is followed out of the Tahoe by one last blonde, spindly and swift, stalking the perimeter with a compound bow, a quiver of arrows secured to his belt. Rio is singing along to Gold Digger, drumming his fists on the steel beams.
“Now, I ain’t sayin’ you a gold digger, you got needs
You don’t want a dude to smoke, but he can’t buy weed
You go out to eat, he can’t pay, y’all can’t leave
There’s dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves…”
The driver wriggles out of the Tahoe with some difficulty; she is seven or eight months pregnant. “Stay in the car,” Madame Driver tells someone inside as she slams the door shut. She’s holding a hammer and sets about euthanizing the zombies still squirming on the ground and gnashing their cracked teeth at her.
Golf Club says: “Jace, bro, that’s so embarrassing. You’re gonna let her do that?”
Curly—or, rather, Jace—shrugs. “Exercise is good for the baby.”
All three blondes respond at once in a chorus of appalled disapproval. Interestingly, your rescuers have British accents. From within the Tahoe, someone turns off the CD player. This is wise; noise tends to attract more zombies. Madame Driver, unaffected, puts her hammer through the eye socket of a former Arby’s employee.
Jace flings back: “She likes helping! It would be sexist to tell her she’s not allowed to!”
The Scarred Man looks up at you and Rio and salutes, two fingers glanced off his forehead. You begin climbing down the scalding rungs of the transmission tower to meet them.
“Oh fuck, Aemond, you gotta deal with this,” Golf Club says. He is holding a yowling zombie at arm’s length by the straps of its overalls. It’s tiny, maybe a kindergartener. “You know I can’t kill the little kid ones.”
The Scarred Man, Aemond, turns to him. He’s wearing a maroon Harvard University t-shirt. “You have to learn how to do things yourself. I might not always be around.”
Golf Club scoffs. “As if I’d outlive you.”
“Go on. You can do it,” Aemond says. Behind him, more people are emerging from the Chevy Tahoe: Binoculars Buddy, a slight girl with shifting, watchful eyes, a blonde woman in a billowing sundress and with a burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder.
Golf Club is still struggling. “Aw, Aemond, man, he’s got light-up sneakers!”
Jace strides over irritably. “Aegon, you’re so fucking useless…” He kicks the miniature zombie to the dirt, raises his bloodied baseball bat, and brings it down on a skull that disintegrates like an overripe Halloween pumpkin. “You’re welcome.”
“Get bit, you poodle.”
Rio hits the ground first, his boots thumping against untamed earth. Aemond sets his baseball bat aside and reaches out to offer assistance as you dangle from a white-hot steel beam. “No,” Rio tells him roughly. “Back up.”
Aemond shows his palms and complies, retreating several paces. Rio helps you down. Now you can see Aemond’s face perfectly. There’s a relatively fresh wound running down the left half of his face, the violent red of burgeoning scar tissue, clear stitches; his eye has been sutured shut. But that’s not why you’re staring at him. His other eye is a focused, hypnotic blue, his short blonde hair disheveled. He keeps touching his chin, a nervous tick. Immediately, there’s something you like about him. He gives you the impression of someone who has gotten very good at hiding how afraid he is. Aemond looks away from your gaze, thinking you’re horrified by his injury. Then, reluctantly, he comes back. There’s forbidden temptation the lines of his ravaged face, a curiosity, a hesitation.
“Thank you for saving us,” you say to your rescuers, tearing your attention from Aemond. It’s not easy. “That was really, really cool of you, and we know you didn’t have to do it. So thanks.”
“Yeah,” Rio adds. “Sorry your Tahoe is covered in guts now.”
Aemond turns to confer silently with his companions, then asks you: “Where are you headed?”
“Odessa, Oregon.”
He nods. “We’re going to California.”
“NorCal,” Jace says, holding his baseball bat across his shoulders. “Bay Area.”
“Are you two together?” Aegon asks.
“Yeah,” Rio says, misunderstanding the question.
“Not like that,” you clarify. “He has a wife and baby, that’s what’s in Oregon.”
“So you’re single,” Aegon says, grinning toothily. His fellow travelers—family? friends? classmates? a combination thereof?—grumble and roll their eyes.
“Um, I mean, yeah, technically…?”
“Aemond’s also single,” Madame Driver informs you, relishing the chaos.
“He’s single but deformed and traumatized,” Aegon says. “I am mentally uninjured.”
You chuckle awkwardly. Your eyes, by their own volition, flick back to Aemond. He peers down at the ground then up at you again, smiling, a little sheepish, a little wicked.
Aegon groans, swinging his golf club around. “Man, come on.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Aemond replies.
“No, it’s just right there, all over your fucked up face.”
Madame Driver feigns a sympathetic frown at Aegon. “How sad. Guess you won’t have anyone to give your syphilis to.”
“I don’t have syphilis,” Aegon tells you. Then, to the others: “I can’t be the only single guy! It’s pathetic!”
“I’m single,” Archery Team says brightly.
“You’re like twelve. You don’t count.”
“I’m seventeen!”
“Are you Army?” Aemond asks you and Rio.
“Navy,” Rio replies. “We were stationed at Saratoga Springs in upstate New York.”
Aemond is fascinated. “You’re deserters?”
“What are you gonna do about it, Brit Boy?” Rio says. Aemond blinks at him. Aegon cackles, drawing huge circles in the air with his golf club.
“Everyone’s deserting,” you explain diplomatically.
“They were going to evacuate the base and send everyone left into New York City,” Rio says. “Fuck that, we’d heard things, we weren’t about to go on some suicide mission. We weren’t even in a combat unit for Christ’s sake, we’re Seabees.”
“You’re what?” Aemond asks, puzzled.
“We do construction. That’s why we were still at the base. If they’re putting us on the front lines, the situation is desperate. I’m not going in the meatgrinder. I’m not gonna be like those Hitler Youth kids sent to Russia.”
Aegon is squinting behind his sunglasses, truly lost. “Huh?”
“We should go west together,” Aemond suggests. He’s attempting to sound casual.
“I thought we didn’t want to travel with strangers, Aemond,” Jace says pointedly, mocking him. “I thought they couldn’t be trusted, Aemond. I thought they might slit our throats and steal our Tahoe in the dead of night, Aemond.”
“We’re useful!” Rio bargains. “We can shoot things!”
Aegon is very confused. “I thought you did construction.”
“Everyone has to go through basic training,” Aemond tells him impatiently, watching you.
“She got the Marksmanship Medal,” Rio says, grinning, proud.
“A lot of people get that,” you demur immediately.
“We can give you guys weapons training,” Rio continues. “You seem…like you probably don’t know about guns. Like you read a lot of books.” He gestures to Aegon. “Except that one.”
Aegon snickers, unoffended, still swinging his golf club around. “I don’t read books. I read maps.”
“Okay, lets do it,” Aemond says. “We’ll stick together across the Midwest and split up before we get to the Pacific. That puts us at ten people, and there’s safety in numbers.”
“Why do you get to make all the decisions?!” Jace demands. “Who signed that fucking contract? I didn’t consent to those terms.”
“Because that’s what Criston told us the last time the phones worked,” Aegon replies smugly. “He said Aemond’s in charge. So he is. If you want to find your way to California on your own, you’re welcome to try.”
“Who’s Criston?” you ask.
“Our fake dad,” Aegon says.
“Oh, your stepdad?”
“No, our mom is still married to our dad, he just sucks.”
“He does suck,” Archery Team confirms.
Rio tells you: “Hey, Chips, you’re standing in a torso.”
“Am I?” You look down. Your boots are buried to the ankles in the rotting gore of a bare midsection with only one limp arm still attached. You step out of it and shake off the bits of decomposing organs. “Gnarly. Thanks.” You spot Parker’s backpack containing the extra ammunition, pick it up out of the dirt, and throw it over your shoulders.
“Chips?” Aemond says. “Like…chocolate chips?”
“No, like woodchips. I’m a carpenter. I mean, I was a carpenter, I guess. That’s what I did in the Navy. Some people call the carpenters Chips.”
“I was an electrician,” Rio says. “So clearly, now that all the power is down, that turned out to be a fantastic career path.” Then he formally introduces himself. “Hi everyone, I’m Rio.”
Aegon perks up. “Oh, like the Rio Grande.”
Rio pretends to be scandalized. “Wow, racist.”
“So racist,” you agree.
Aegon’s chubby pink face fills with horror. “No, wait, I didn’t…um…”
Rio laughs and taps the nametag on his chest, black letters stitched over green camouflage: Osorio.
“His first name’s Bryan,” you say. “But no one calls him that.”
“My mom calls me Bryan. Sophie calls me Bryan.”
Aemond points at his companions, one after the other. “That’s my brother Aegon and my sister Helaena. Jace and Luke are our cousins. Then Baela and Rhaena are their girlfriends. Well, Baela…she’s kind of a fiancée. But there’s no official ring yet.”
Jace says: “Unfortunately, all the jewelry stores were looted on account of the apocalypse.”
“And I’m Daeron,” Archery Team says buoyantly, waving. Then he shields his eyes as he notices something at the edge of the field. “Oh, guys…?”
There are zombies approaching with clumsy, staggering strides, only a few now, but more will follow. That’s the thing; they are in seemingly endless supply. It’s easy to get too comfortable with them, to think of them as slow and mindless, even comical, even pitiful. But they can surprise you. And it only takes one bite to become just like them.
“Time to return to the Tahoe,” Baela announces, waddling towards the driver’s seat. Rhaena climbs in the passenger’s side. The rest of you pile into the back. The SUV has nine seats; Aegon crouches on the floor without being asked to. He’s unfolding a map he pulled from the pocket of his salmon-colored shorts and laying it flat across Rio’s knees so everyone can see. Baela turns the key in the ignition and the Tahoe rumbles to life. You spot a few red gas cans under the seats. If you can’t find more when that runs out—siphoning it out of other vehicles, stumbling across a gas station that is miraculously not drained dry—you’ll be walking, biking, or skateboarding to the West Coast. Or embracing the Amish lifestyle with a horse and buggy.
“We were planning to swing by Fort Indiantown Gap,” you tell Aemond. He twists around in his seat to look at you, that absorbed crystalline blue gaze. “That’s where we were headed before our Humvee broke down. It’s a National Guard Training Center. It’s probably cleaned out like everywhere else, but if it’s not…we might be able to find some guns and ammo there.”
“Where is it?”
“An hour south of here, just outside of Harrisburg.”
Baela is watching Aemond in the rearview mirror. He gives her a nod. “How do I get there?” Baela asks you.
“South on Route 42. Did you see the signs on your way in…?”
“Yup. Got it.” Baela steers the Tahoe across the field, kicking up a vortex of parched soil. She intentionally runs down four zombies before swerving left onto a two-lane road. Then she turns up the volume on the CD player: War Pigs by Black Sabbath. “It’s a mixtape,” she informs you.
Aegon points to southcentral Pennsylvania on a map of the United States of America, highway arteries and local route veins. “We’re here,” he says, sliding around on the floor of the Tahoe as Baela drives. His index finger traces the path; it’s a precarious balance between avoiding the most heavily populated areas and still having access to the necessary trappings of civilization: supplies to scavenge, roads to follow, buildings to take shelter in. “We’ll stop by Fort Indiantown Gap and then head northwest, thread the needle between Pittsburgh and Cleveland, stay south of Detroit and Chicago, cut across Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, that top part of Utah, then go our separate ways in Nevada. Oh my God, it’s just like the Oregon Trail! Do you guys remember that game?! Fording rivers, getting dysentery, hunting bison to extinction?” He starts humming the theme song.
Jace smirks, chomping on a Twizzler. “Hope you don’t die of a snakebite or something. That’d be awful.”
Aegon ignores him and refolds the map. “Rio! Fuck, marry, kill. The last three first ladies before Biden.”
Rhaena says, exasperated: “Aegon, you have to stop asking people that. It’s inappropriate.”
“Oh, easy,” Rio replies. “I’m fucking Laura Bush.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Aegon gives him a high five.
“And then I have to marry Michelle.”
“You gotta.”
“Which means Melania gets the grape Flavor Aid.”
“It’s the only logical answer.”
“I’d fuck Melania,” Jace says.
“Of course you would, you sick, sick man,” Aegon mutters, rolling down a window and sticking his head out like a golden retriever, his sunglasses still on, his blonde hair flapping in the wind. There’s a tattoo in black ink on his forearm, you notice for the first time: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground.
~~~~~~~~~~
Fort Indiantown Gap is a ghost town like a gold seam emptied, an oil well run dry, a collapsed coal mine. There’s no central armory but instead a series of arms rooms, one for each unit. Every single scrap of lethal metal is gone: no pistols, no rifles, no grenade launchers or machine guns, no ammo, not even pocketknives, although you do find clean PT uniforms for you and Rio to change into, t-shirts and running shorts and sneakers. Clothes are surprisingly difficult to acquire now. Most stores have either been looted or overrun by zombies, and Amazon is tragically no longer delivering. You can break into houses that seem abandoned, but then you have to hope the people who lived there just so happened to be your size and also aren’t waiting inside to eat you. It’s not usually a wise gamble.
You study Aemond and his companions as you move through the base clearing buildings, you and Rio with loaded M9s in your holsters and clutching borrowed baseball bats; gunshots are best avoided if possible so as not to attract unwanted attention. Aemond and Jace take point, almost always; Aegon hovers on Aemond’s blind left side, wagging his golf club around, occasionally slapping Aemond’s shoulder to remind him he’s there. Daeron prowls at the back and on the periphery. Baela pretends she isn’t struggling to keep up. Luke and Rhaena are the lookouts. Helaena fills her burlap messenger bag with small treasures you don’t even notice her accumulating: bottles of Advil, batteries, lighters, pens, tweezers, Band-Aids, Uno cards. You encounter only three zombies, easily decommissioned. Fort Indiantown Gap must have been evacuated weeks ago. You wonder what pointless battles her soldiers died in. Everyone knows the dead have won.
What the abandoned base lacks in weaponry it makes up for in food. You find a chow hall with an untouched kitchen, a wealth of shelf-stable delicacies: chili, saltine crackers, applesauce, fruit cocktail with bright red gems of cherries, peanut butter, strawberry jelly, green beans, carrots, peas, beets, tuna fish, chicken noodle soup. You feast—a Thanksgiving, a Last Supper—then settle into the barracks next door as the sun begins to set. There are plenty of bunkbeds and a closet full of pillows and sheets. Someone always has to be up to keep watch; Daeron and Jace immediately go to sleep so they can get some rest before they are shaken awake sometime around 2 or 3 a.m. Baela says she’s going to lie down for a minute and almost immediately begins snoring. Helaena makes silent amendments in her notebook; she keeps an inventory of everything the group has, needs, or wants.
Outside, Rio and Aegon are engaged in a spirited game of Uno. Luke is sitting cross-legged on the roof of the Tahoe with his binoculars. Rhaena is beside him softly reading a book out loud: The Hunger Games. Aemond is on a wooden bench on the front porch of the barracks, watching the sun sink into the west. When he notices you, he seems pleased. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m sorry we wasted your gas to come here.”
“No, it was a good idea. It was worth a shot. And now we have a safe place to sleep tonight.” His eye drops lower, his scarred brow crinkles in concern. “What happened to your hands?”
“My hands?” In the haze of the adrenaline, you didn’t even notice. Your palms are blistered, swollen and stinging. “Oh. It was the transmission tower. The steel beams got really hot while we were up there. I’ll be okay.”
“Let me bandage them. You don’t want to get an infection.”
“Really, I’m fine, I shouldn’t inconvenience—”
“Sit down,” Aemond insists. You take a seat on the bench while he goes to the Tahoe to fetch a black nylon bag about the size of a briefcase. Rio casts you a furtive, crafty grin. It’s nothing, you mouth back, more to convince yourself than him. Your pulse is thudding in your ears; your cheeks are warm. You haven’t felt like this since you almost agreed to go on a date with that Marine you met at Corpus Christi, where your battalion had been dispatched to build a series of new airplane hangars. Aemond returns to the bench and begins wiping down your palms with antiseptic. “Sorry if this stings.”
It does, but you’re grateful for the distraction. “It isn’t too bad.”
“You’re not from Oregon.” He’s noticed your accent.
“Kentucky,” you confess.
“You aren’t making a stop at home before traveling west?”
“Why would I want to go back there?”
Aemond looks at you uncertainly; he can’t tell if you’re joking. You like the way his voice goes quiet when it’s just the two of you. You like the way he barely shows his teeth when he talks, like he’s keeping secrets.
After a moment, as the sky begins to turn to orange and pink and lilac, you continue. “People join the Army for a paycheck and a place to sleep, free college, health insurance. People join the Marines to prove they’re the best. People join the Air Force because they want to be in the military but think they’re too smart for grunt work. And people join the Navy to get away from home. I wanted to get far, far, far away.”
Aemond smiles. “Are you far enough yet?” He doesn’t mean by miles. He means the fact that the world will never be the same. Now he’s coating your hands in a thick white ointment, cool and blissful.
“I was afraid of so many things, and now none of them matter.”
“We all have brand new things to be afraid of.” He gets a roll of gauze and begins to wrap your palms, careful to keep your fingers and thumbs unencumbered.
“Aemond?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to your face?”
He shrugs. He’s trying not to be resentful about it; he can’t change it anyway. “We were scavenging supplies from a Home Depot. We had to board up the house and wait until things…got quieter and it was safe to travel out of Boston.” And by got quieter, he means that the initial wave passed, the zombies began to wander out of the cities and disperse, the survivors were hunkered down and not participating in gunfights or Vikings-style pillaging in the streets. “A piece of sheet metal fell on me from the top shelf. Aegon and Jace dragged me home, they thought I was dying.”
“I’m glad you weren’t. Who treated it?”
“I did.”
You can’t disguise your shock. “You…you stitched up your own face?”
He smirks, finishing the bandages on your hands. “I was in medical school before all this.”
“You’re a doctor?”
“I was an intern. So definitely not a doctor, but the closest thing to one I had access to. And I had taken some things from the hospital when everything went to hell. So I got a little mirror, and I lidocained myself very generously, and I started suturing.”
You don’t know what to say. His eye?? He stitched his eye shut?? “I mean…you did a great job.”
“I’m aware I look like Frankenstein, but I guess it’s better than not being here at all.”
“No, seriously. You look amazing, Aemond.”
He stares at you, bewildered. You realize how bizarre it must sound. You both start laughing as Aemond packs his supplies back into his medical kit. He touches his fingertips to his chin a few times—restless, meditative—then stands to return inside the barracks. “I’m…going to go check on Helaena.”
“Yeah. Cool. See ya.” You don’t watch him leave. This takes intentional effort.
Seconds pass anonymously: no time you need to be anywhere, nothing late, nothing early, no television premiers, no football games, no State Of The Unions, no time zones to do mental math over. You aren’t even sure what day it is. The earth has erased your invisible prisons. Now all that remain are the real ones: weather, terrain, disease, predators.
There is the creaking of weight on the porch steps. You warn him: “I’m not interested in your commentary.”
Rio winks as he says: “Maybe you won’t die a virgin after all.”
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kingkunigami · 7 months ago
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— Kunigami Rensuke
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Masterlist.
Keeping every other player on their toes was the true goal. Reminding them that he deserved his place— that he was meant to be here. But Kunigami wouldn’t deny that obtaining a prize that every other man on the field coveted was a good enough reward. He really was the wildcard, in every sense of the word.
Warnings: 18+, dubcon, spit, Kunigami’s got an oral fixation, blow jobs, no prep, unprotected sex, light choking, squirting, creampie.
Pairing: Kunigami Rensuke x f!reader.
Word Count: 2.8k.
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If there was ever a man who didn’t appear to want the prize he’d rightfully won, it would be Kunigami Rensuke. Lingering in the doorway as you felt the cool chill seep into the room from behind him, prickling against your form as goosebumps began to appear against your forearms. The sheer lingerie doing little to hide your exposed skin as you shuffled on your knees against the soft sheets, your nipples hardening against pretty lace as you watched his tongue slip out to wet his lips.
It was as though this prize wasn’t good enough, that he was still searching for more. Every trophy and accolade he rightfully stole from every other player put on the field would never matter until his name was positioned at number one.
Keeping every other player on their toes was the true goal. Reminding them that he deserved his place— that he was meant to be here. But Kunigami wouldn’t deny that obtaining a prize that every other man on the field coveted was a good enough reward for now, stealing a last minute shot at goal instead of passing to Chigiri to land the ball in the top left corner— barely an inch from the post. A chance that had paid off well now that he was standing where the other twenty-one men on the field wished they could be.
No one would deny that he’d been through a lot to get this far— probably far more than most. A man that had tasted the disgusting bile of failure rise in his throat, the defeat one he promised himself he would never feel again. Arguably working far harder than his teammates to reclaim his position at the top, biting at the ankles of his competitors as he allowed natural selection to take place.
And Kunigami couldn’t lie, it felt good to be victorious. So used to the pack mentality of victory, succeeding at the hands of others. But this one? It was his. You were his. And he would return to the rest of his team with a story to prove it.
He took four long strides to meet you at the foot of the bed, like a lion stalking its prey as he towered over you. His hand was gentle when he cupped your cheek, leaning into his touch as you grasped onto the warmth of it. Feeling a rush of blood pump through your veins when you looked up to meet his burning gaze, enough to scorch your skin as you felt it set fire to you all the way down to your core.
“They were right,” He murmurs, “You are really pretty.”
Your heart jumped at his words, thinking about what sort of things the footballers said about you. Picturing them crowded around in their changing room at half-time, doused in dirt and sweat as they spilled their pure depravity. Talking about every filthy thought they had about you, or the lewd opinions of those who’d had a taste. Your clit pulsing in response as you swallowed thickly, wondering what Kunigami’s role had been in the conversation.
“So,” He hummed, tracing the calloused pad of his thumb over your glossy lips, the stickiness tacking you to him, “What can I do to you?”
“Anything.”
“Shit,” A groan rumbled from deep in his chest, his eyes fluttering as he felt his cock pulse beneath his shorts, “Anything?”
“Yeah—” Kunigami pushed his thumb past your lips as soon as he felt you part them to speak, pressing down on the pad of your tongue as your lips closed around it. Staring up at him obediently through thick lashes as you hollowed your cheeks, causing a deep blazing heat to burn in his pelvis.
“Fuck,” He growled, pumping his thumb slowly as his palm caged your jaw. Tilting your head as he used his strong grip you open your mouth, pursing his lips as he spat into your open mouth, “Hold it.”
You felt the moisture collect at the back of your throat from the way your head was tilted, your tongue wobbles as he draws back to dip his thumbs into the hem of his shorts. Pulling them down enough to free his heady cock, the tip swollen and bruised deep crimson as a a pearlescent glob of pre beads at the tip. You whimpered at the debauched sight, his spit gargling at the back of your throat as you squeezed your thighs together in a feeble attempt to alleviate the ache throbbing between them.
“Fu-uck,” Kunigami groaned as he felt the warmth of your mouth engulf him when he guided his cock inside you, deliberately smearing his pre against your pouty lips as he watched you begin to bob your head obediently.
The sordid stories he’d heard in the showers after practise were nothing compared to the sight of you in front of him like this now. His cock disappearing inside your wet mouth as his hips stilled to watch the way you leaned forward to try and take more of him.
“Cute,” He hummed when the confidence grew inside you as you tried to take a little too much of him, feeling his swollen tip hit the back of your throat as you pulled back with a gag. Spluttering as spit began to drool down your chin, landing on your chest as you regained your breath. Kunigami couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward to tug at the straps of your bra, tugging them along your shoulders as he pulled the cups down enough to free your round tits.
He sucked a hiss through gritted teeth when you tried again, your spit drying against his length as you engulfed him in warmth once more. His slender fingers reached down to toy with your stiffened peaks as he tugged one between his thumb and forefinger, “You like that?”
You tried to speak around him, slurring your words as he smirked in satisfaction. Pulling your nipple away from your body to let it go, your breast bouncing back into place in favour of him reaching his palm around the back of your neck. Cradling your head at the base of your skull as he begun to thrust his hips forward into your mouth, deliberately trying to press his leaking tip against the back of your mouth with each forward motion. Drawing more debauched noises from your throat, as more spit pooled down onto your bare breasts.
“You’re such a mess,” He groaned, his hand tight at the back of your head as he held you down on his length. Watching as pearly tears begun to clump in your lashes as they blurred your vision, gagging as his thick tip pressed against your throat. Cutting off your oxygen supply as he continued to hold you firm and steady, jaw locked with intent as he pushed you further. Your nose buried in the messy nest of hair at the base of his cock as you took in every inch of him; Cutting off any chance of breathing, thick tears now streaming down the apples of your cheeks as your hands came up to claw at his muscular thighs. Leaving dark, crimson lines against the skin as you clawed at him for relief.
“That’s it, you got it—” The lack of oxygen how had your eyes rolling back into your skull as Kunigami finally took pity on you, easing his grip with a sharp hiss as you marked him, “Good girl.”
Glistening strings of spit and pre snapped off between your bodies, sticking to your chin as you looked at the deep gashes you’d left against his skin. Low enough on his thighs to be seen when he was wearing his shorts out on the pitch, and that’s exactly what Kunigami wanted— his teammates would probably think him far too much of a prude to do anything with you, but he’d show them. A cocky, knowing smirk on his lips when he prepared in the locker room before practise.
You squealed when he bent down to curl his palms around your thighs. His heavy cock glistening with your spit as it bobbed from the sudden motion, pulling your legs out from beneath you as your back met the satin sheets. Pulling you to the edge of the bed as though you weighed nothing until your ass was practically hanging off the edge of it. Thighs either side of his muscular frame as he was gifted the perfect view between your thighs, noticing the dark stain on the fabric as he brushed his knuckles against it. Smirking when your sensitive body jolted upon contact.
“So you said I can do anything,” Kunigami mused, pressing his thumb down against your clothed clit, “That mean I can fuck this pussy raw?”
“Yes,” You gasped, shamelessly spreading your legs wider to give him more access as he began to trace his fingers along the apex of your thighs, dangerously close to the hem of your panties.
The position he had you in left you nowhere to plant your feet, almost uncomfortable as you fought to hold your legs in the air, pressing your legs against his hips as Kunigami pulled your panties to the side to reveal your lustrous cunt to his eager gaze.
“Shit,” He shook his head, darkened eyes hidden behind his messy mop of ginger hair, “Is there anything I can’t do?”
“No,” You answered truthfully. So desperate for some kind of relief you truly would’ve allowed him to do anything to you in this moment, to use your body in any sick and twisted way he deemed fit.
“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else,” Kunigami snarled, roughly pushing your thighs back towards your chest as he curled his tall body over you. His rigid cock laid flat along the length of your creamy slit as you felt his weighty balls press against the curve of your ass, “And you’re gonna take it.”
The thick veins that forked along the length of him grazed your clit as he smoothed himself in your slick, the swollen tip of his cock catching against your tight ill-prepped hole as he pressed two fingers inside you crudely. A debauched squelch sounding around the room from how wet you are, as he began to scissor them roughly in a feeble attempt at prepping you for the sheer length of him.
But nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of him breaching your tight heat, stealing the wind from your lungs as the length to his cock immediately had him spearing your insides. What he made up for in girth, he compensated for when his swollen tip nudged your cervix.
“Oh, fuck.”
With his feet still poised on the ground, Kunigami hovered over you and began to fuck into you hard and precise. Determined to have you remembering him over all of his competition— Wanting to be your number one.
You felt the weight behind his thrusts as his full balls slapped against your ass with each forward motion, echoing in your ears but drowned out by the sultry moans that escaped past your parted lips. His darkened eyes almost black as they stare down at you with such scrutiny that you can’t match his gaze, letting your head lull to the side as he keeps himself folded over you. Your tits bouncing with the ferocity of his thrusts.
No longer the prized golden boy you’d once seen at the start of the program, now a tainted man with the weight of the world on his shoulders as he let every ounce of emotion pour out into his pace.
Kunigami pressed his palm flat against your sternum before sliding along your clavicle, weaving his fingers around the column of your neck as you felt the tips of his fingers press into your jaw. Turning your head back to face him as you met his gaze, clenching around him in response as his palm began to tighten around your windpipe.
The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each forward motion, and he was so deep inside you were certain you could feel him in your lungs. The constricting of air only increased the sensation as your walls pulsed around him, squeezing his length as you began to feel the telltale signs of your release. Far too pent up to try and fight it as you lay helpless beneath him, feeble attempts at his name spilling from between your parted lips.
“They didn’t fuck you like this, did they?” Kunigami was eager to prove himself to you. Hungry and desperate for this sick source of validation that would hold him above all the others, to place him at number one, “They didn’t make you feel as good as me?”
And you couldn’t answer even if you’d wanted to. The pleasure building inside you made it difficult to think of anything other than the way he managed to keep you dangling on the edge of your release. Desperate for something that would have you tumbling over the edge, to have you coming undone for him.
Sacrificing his grip around your neck in favour of pressing a palm flat against your pelvis, pulling back the hood of your clit as his calloused thumb pressed messy circles against it. The weight of him enough to increase the pressure to breaking point as you began to writhe beneath him, trying to ignore the dull throb from your bladder as you fought back the relief. Your pliant walls tightening around him in response as he sneered down at you through bared teeth.
“I can’t, I’m gonna pee!” You flushed, wide panicked eyes staring up at him.
“Don’t fight it, just let go.” He pressed down harder, strumming your puffy clit as your toes began to curl. Crying out his name as you felt a warm, wet stream of squirt begin to gush against his pelvis. His hand quick to intercept it and have it flying in all directions. Soaking his palm and the sheets beneath you as he grinned in satisfaction.
“That’s it—” He groaned, ignoring your pleas for him to give you a moments respite, “Just like that.”
You weren’t sure you had anything left to give as your climax hit you like a freight train, trembling around him as Kunigami still managed to coax more streams out of your willing body. Almost as wet as the tears that streaked down your temples from overstimulation as your body trembled beneath him.
“Bet no one else has made you do that, hm?” He groaned, the crude squelch echoed in your ears as the heat boiled inside you.
Kunigami pressed his hands against the back of your thighs as he resumed his frantic pace, the muscles in his body constricting as he used you for his own release. Working himself towards his climax as he leaned his weight over you to smash his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss that was all tongue and teeth, feeling you clench around him at the sensation as he found his release. Groaning against your lips as his warm breath fanned your skin and he spilled his release into your velvety walls. His hips still rutting as he fucked his cum deep inside you, reluctantly pulling away when he had nothing left to give.
He kept his grip on your thighs when he pulled out of your spent cunt, watching your fluttering hole slowly start to push his spend out in thick white globs as it drooled down your slit towards your asshole. He wished he’d brought a phone in to document the scene, a filthy snapshot to share in the lockerroom the next day to prove his worth. His fingers quick to collect his spunk as he scooped it up with his fingers to push it back inside you, cherishing the final tremors of you around him as he pulled your panties back in place. Giving a final pat to the crotch as he pulled away from you, staring down at you with a shy smile.
It was like he was a different man now, smooth hands stroking along your aching thighs as he pressed a kiss to your knee.
“I— uh, can I get you anything?” He mumbled shyly, the powerful intense man gone as he finally revealed the soft glow in his auburn eyes.
“You don’t have to,” You smiled, letting your fingers run through his hair as your nails grazed his scalp. Letting his cheek rest against your inner thigh as he stared up at you.
“Well— do you want to cuddle?” He seemed nervous to even ask.
“Isn’t that a waste of your time?” You whispered, knowing the real reason for why each man was really here.
“It would never be a waste of time,” Kunigami moved to hover above you, his sticky cock pressed against your inner thigh, “And besides, I’ll be back again tomorrow.”
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holysmokesblog · 5 days ago
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The Gray Reunion
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Vi x reader
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: Violence, mentions of illness, blood, slightly spicy kisses ;)
Summary: In the midst of the chaos, you struggle to help the people of the Lanes. The truth behind the disaster sparks a confrontation that will test your bonds
Note:English is not my first language, sorry
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In the past few hours, your modest apartment had turned into chaos. At least a dozen people had knocked on your door seeking help, intoxicated by something you hadn’t seen in years.
They could barely fit into the small living room, which also served as your kitchen and bedroom, waiting for you to help them, coughing out toxic fumes. Everyone expected you, just as your father had done in the past, to help or offer a solution, but you were completely lost, fumbling with medical supplies that had been stored away for years.
"The gray," murmured an older woman who was holding her husband as he struggled to breathe.
"That’s impossible," you replied. "We haven’t had problems with that in years, the ventilation system..."
"Then there must be a leak," she interrupted, raising her voice before a violent cough cut her off. You watched as her hand was splattered with blood. She inhaled deeply before continuing, "I’ve been through this before, but we don’t have the years on us anymore. Your father treated it countless times. Doesn’t he have notes somewhere?"
You sighed in defeat. "I’ve lost most of Dad’s things over the years. All I have left is what you see." You placed the stethoscope on a child’s back to listen to his breathing. "There’s nothing I can do. We just have to wait for the lungs to clean themselves... and stay far from the leak."
A collective groan arose from the people packed into your small space. "And how are we supposed to do that? We live there! Where can we go?" Various complaints began to rise.
"I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. We just have to wait until they repair the leak."
"They’re not going to fix it! It’s those damn enforcers! They’re killing us to get to Jinx!" Another wave of murmurs rippled through the room.
You tried to remain calm. Could that be true? Were the people above really capable of poisoning everyone just to catch Jinx? Those above had taken so much from you already that it seemed entirely plausible. But then an image came to mind—Violet. She was in Piltover now, and she would never let this happen, not to the place that had been her home for so many years and still was yours. Right?
You continued your work, trying to calm the rebellion brewing in your living room, tending to the most severe cases of nosebleeds and eye hemorrhages. But there wasn’t much more you could do. Around three in the morning, the last person finally left.
Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, utterly defeated. Chances were, all the patients you’d seen today would return tomorrow with new symptoms. It was impossible to recover from the gray while constantly exposed to it. You knew that if it was a crack, it would take years to fix. And if it was intentional, if they were hunting Jinx... that would also take time. There was no way they’d catch her.
A knock on the door kept you from falling completely asleep. You cursed under your breath—new patients. Your father’s voice echoed in your mind, reminding you how he wouldn’t rest until he’d helped the last person who needed him. You repeated the phrase to yourself before getting up to answer the door, only to be met with a great surprise.
Vi stood there, but the most shocking thing was her outfit. She was dressed as a full-fledged officer, an enforcer. You couldn’t suppress a gasp of utter disbelief. You had spent years of your life together; you knew her story as well as your own, and never would you have imagined the possibility of her wearing something like that—not even as a joke.
"I’m truly surprised," you murmured. She scoffed in irritation. You stepped aside to let her in, and she dropped her new, heavy gloves onto your floor. You bit your lip to keep from scolding her.
The past few days had been madness: Vi’s return, the search for Jinx, and your responsibilities trying to honor your father’s legacy had left you with barely a moment to breathe.
"Lots of patients?" she asked, trying to start a conversation.
"Too many," you replied, collapsing onto the bed again. She still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "You can lie down if you want... Unless you’re scared of dirtying that pretty uniform." She let out a short laugh before lying down next to you.
"I’ve barely seen you since you came back... I don’t think I ever got to tell you how happy I am that you’re here... Despite everything."
"Yeah, I suppose the first hug you gave me said it all."
"I mean it, Vi," you said, turning to face her. "Everything got so hard, but now you’re here, and I feel like things will get better."
She smiled faintly. "Yeah, we just have to fix a few things, and everything will improve." She propped herself up to sit beside you. "You look really pretty," she added. "Those dark circles suit you."
You couldn’t help but laugh. For just a moment, all the bad things disappeared. It was just the two of you in your small apartment—no Jinx, no gray, no problems in the Lanes. Just you two. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. She froze for a moment.
"I thought you missed me," she teased.
"I did."
"That’s not a reunion kiss. This is." Without warning, she leaned over and kissed you deeply. You welcomed her eagerly—it was like a breath of fresh air, something rare where you’d grown up. The kisses grew more intense, and your hands wandered over her torso and back. Vi positioned herself on top of you, using her hand for support on your pillow. But she quickly pulled it back.
"What’s this?" she asked.
You looked to the side, confused, and saw a large bloodstain. You hadn’t even noticed it. You sighed. "I’m really sorry." You sat up slightly, but Vi didn’t move off you. You grabbed the pillow and threw it to the other side of the room. "It’s been such a complicated day with the ventilation cracks."
"Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not at my best, either."
"Doesn’t seem like it." You kissed her intensely again, and she adjusted immediately.
"When all this is over, we should go on a real date. Like dinner and all that cheesy stuff."
You laughed against her lips at her failed attempt at romance. "I just hope it’s soon."
"It will be," she declared confidently. "Once they catch Jinx, everything will get better, and life in the Lanes will change—just like Vander always wanted."
Vi’s hands slipped under your shirt as you shared another passionate kiss, but her words lingered in your mind.
"Wait, wait, no," you said, pushing her slightly so she moved off you.
"Oh, do you want to take control, doll?" she teased.
"Did you have anything to do with this?" She looked confused, so you pushed her again to sit beside you. "The gas? Was it you?"
Vi stayed silent, hesitant to answer.
"Is this some kind of joke? You’re poisoning us just to catch your sister?" you shouted, furious.
"Hey, hey, it’s not like that... I mean, yes, but not how you think."
"You bitch," you spat, jumping out of bed. "Do you even understand the damage you’ve caused?"
"Listen to me. We used the gray to clear the streets, to keep people safe," she tried to explain.
"Used? Who’s ‘we’? You and your new enforcer friends? Well, you didn’t protect anyone!" You exploded. "Do you have any idea how many people you hurt? At least fifty came here today!"
"She’s a murderer! She killed half the council, she—"
"She’s not a traitor," you cut her off sharply.
The room fell silent as you watched Vi clench her fists in anger. You’d struck a nerve.
"Did you really do this for her? Or did your new enforcer friend convince you?" you spat, unable to hide your disgust.
"Don’t call her that!" Vi’s hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, pushing you against the wall.
You stayed inches apart for what felt like ten seconds before she let go, though she didn’t step back. Her heavy breathing mixed with yours, and you could smell the perfume from her uniform—a scent impossible to find down here.
"Get out of my house," you whispered.
"You have to understand—"
"Get out!"
Vi sighed loudly, grabbed her heavy gloves from the floor, and walked to the door. You opened it for her, stepping aside. She crossed the threshold without meeting your gaze but stopped in the doorway.
"I hope your new friend is worth it." She didn’t turn around, just kept walking down the dark street, away from your home.
You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
What had you expected? Nothing had stayed the same over the years.
You locked the door before collapsing into bed. Tomorrow would be another hard day in the Lanes.
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crazyunsexycool · 2 years ago
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stucky x reader, where reader didn't present at a certain age so she lived most of her adult life with no designation, alpha stucky who could be mated alr, accept her into their small pack regardless and are v protective of her. One day though, during their mission she suddenly gets her heat; and not a bearable one, like heat heat. And she just smells so good and irresistible which drove the alpha's absolutely feral.
ps. i love your writing!!💗😍
Present
Pairing: alpha!stucky x reader
Word count: 3.6k
Warning: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!) p in v, fingering, canon level violence, mentions of blood, a/b/o dynamics
A/N: I had most of this written a while ago and idk why I never posted it but it’s here now. I’m so sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy it anyways. I love receiving requests for one shots or dribbles so please feel free I promise that I am working on them they help when I get stuck on other things
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Never having presented the way all of your classmates, friends and family had made you an outcast. Did it hurt to be rejected by your family for not presenting? Yes but it didn’t stop you from achieving your goals. It’s how you entered Shield and became an agent. Your lack of scent was an advantage over the people you were fighting, with no alpha, beta or omega needs to tend to you easily became one of the best agents. It’s how you ended up working with the Avengers.
It’s also how you met them, Steve and Bucky the mated alphas. At first you had been extremely intimidated by them and anytime you had to interact with them you referred to them by their ranks. Little by little they showed you they were big softies. It’s how courting gifts started, your favorite coffee on your desk in the morning, a book you had mentioned delivered to your room. It was all so sweet but you had to tell them you didn’t have a designation and you didn’t want to lead them on if they wanted an omega.
“What if we just want you? We don’t care about designations.” Bucky asked as he held your hand.
“Me?”
“Mmhmm, we want you sweetheart.” Steve says as he stands behind you, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear.
“Even though I don’t have a designation?” It was almost too good to be true. The most desirable alphas wanted you, with or without designation. The thought of being theirs and them being yours made you shudder.
“We don’t care about that, we care about you.” Bucky says confidently but hopeful. “What do you say?”
A smile appears on your lips as you nod.
“We need you to use your words Sweetheart.”
“Yes. I-I would like to be with you.” Steve turns you around and immediately connects his lips to yours as a small but deep growl rumbles from deep in his chest. He doesn’t get a chance to deepen it as Bucky pulls you away and begins to kiss you.
You having no designation didn’t stop them from continuing to court you. In the short three months you had been with them they always had small gifts for you when they came back from missions or they took you out on dates. Steve and Bucky never made you feel less than for never having presented. On the contrary they were very protective and anyone who even dared to make a comment about you had to deal with them. The super soldiers were caring, protective and sweet which made you fall fast, this was the first time in a long time in which you wanted to have a designation so that they could claim you properly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You loved going on missions with Steve and Bucky, it was always amazing to see them working. Sure they went toe to toe with other alphas but nothing compared to the Super Soldiers. This mission you were headed to was supposed to be easy. Bucky was supposed to set up with his sniper rifle not too far away, while you and Steve headed inside. Your job was to extract information from the servers after you, but mostly Steve, cleared the building.
Since starting as an agent you were always confident in your abilities but you knew there was something off today. You felt warmer than usual and your body ached, not to mention that whenever Steve or Bucky so much as walked by you wanted to pounce on them. Their scents were driving you crazy and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together to try and get any type of relief. This didn’t go unnoticed by the alphas, they weren’t sure what was going on but they kept a close eye on you during the flight.
The mission was going off without a hitch for the most part. Steve cleared the building while you got to work on the servers. It was easy and if you hadn’t been preoccupied with the shooting pain that spread low in your belly you would have considered that it was way too easy. A whine escapes your lips as you try to focus on the task at hand before a growl gets your attention. It sends shivers up and down your spine and the bitter scent that hits you is just as unpleasant.
“Well what do we have here? I see they left me something to play with.” his lips turned into a wicked grin.
You put your hand up to your earpiece. “Alphas” is all you manage to say before the one before you lunges towards you and pins you down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky had made his way down to the building from his position at Steve’s request. The building had been cleared and he had left you to do your part. They were both well aware that it was too easy to get into the building, it had minimal security considering the information it housed. Steve preferred to have Bucky close in case there were more issues especially if he considered that you were behaving a little out of character. They both had agreed on that and the fact that if they didn’t know you didn’t have a designation it felt like you had a scent. One that was sure to send them into their ruts if it had been stronger. Steve and Bucky were doing one more sweep of a lower level when they heard it. A faint growl but enough to make them turn back around and when they heard your voice through comms calling them alpha they nearly lost it. You had never referred to them by their designation.
By the time they get up two floors to your location the scent in the air hits them. It was intoxicating but laced with fear and both super soldiers knew they had to act fast. When they got to the hallway where the room you were in they felt pure rage. The door had been ripped off its hinges and there was a faint smell of blood in the air. But as they got to the room they only found your ear piece and a dead alpha on the floor. Their enhanced hearing alerted them to movement further down the hall and close to the stairwell.
They split up with Steve following the footsteps and Bucky trying to find you. At any other moment they would be calm and focused but you were in trouble and the men that had promised to keep you safe would stop at nothing to do so.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Y/N.” he says with his voice lowered so as to not scare you. His scent reaches you and you relax slightly. Bucky found you in a room hidden away from the others that Steve was following.
“Alpha, it hurts.” you whine from your spot in the corner of the room.
“I know, doll but I’m here. I’ll help you.” he coos as he finally gets closer to you. He’s fighting his instincts to claim you right on the spot, the sweet scent made stronger by your heat is driving him crazy. Instead Bucky focuses on using his own scent to soothe you.
As soon as he is crouching in front of you, you launch yourself into his arms. Bucky holds you close as he tries to find any injuries. The only thing he finds is a rip on your uniform and he’s furious, if the alpha wasn’t dead already he would have ripped his head off. But then Bucky feels the tip of your nose brush up against his mating gland and up his neck and he shudders.
“Omega.” When Bucky pulls back his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen and completely full of lust.
“Is everything ok?” Steve’s voice comes through the comms.
“Kind of. She isn’t hurt but she’s starting her heat, we have to get her out of here.”
“Meet me at the entrance. The jet isn’t too far and- fuck. Bucky you have to move her to a safer room. We have more guards coming in.”
“Fuck. Ok, moving now.” Bucky scoops you up and rushes out of the room trying to ignore the way you keep nipping and licking at his neck. He moves quickly until he finds a room he deems safe enough for you. He listens for footsteps on the other side of the door after setting you down on the table, at least he doesn’t have to worry about a sniper since there aren’t any windows.
“Bucky, what’s happening to me?”
“Doll, you’re presenting. You’re an omega.”
“Your omega?” you whisper, afraid that he’ll say no.
Your question makes his breath hitch. He turns towards you, his eyes dark and lust blown.
“Mine.” he says as he walks towards you with purpose. Standing between your legs as he pulls you in for a filthy kiss. He felt you trying to undo his belt and then the button on his pants but he stops you. “We can’t doll, you aren’t safe.”
“Please, need you.”
“You’ve got me.” He says as he moves to undo your belt and pants. With every passing moment your scent got stronger and so did your heat. Bucky knew he had to do something to help.
He pops the button on your suit pant open and then lowers the zipper, slowly his hand makes its way between your thighs. Running his fingers through your fold he groans at how wet you are. “This all for me ‘mega. Is this for your alpha?”
“Yes, alpha please.” you moan as you feel him circle your clit slowly. Your hips move on their own accord to try and get more friction. He captures your lips with his as he starts to pick up the pace, swallowing all your moans. “More, Bucky more.”
“I got you doll.” he says as he moves from your clit down to your dripping entrance and slowly pushes two fingers in until he’s knuckles deep. You whimper at the feeling. “Look at you so greedy, gripping my fingers so tight.” Bucky begins to pick up his pace before adding another finger. He curves his fingers stroking that spot that has your eyes rolling back, your mouth open in a silent scream. Your hands gripping on to his shoulders as the knot in your belly tightens.
“That’s it doll, be a good girl for me and cum.” Bucky starts thrusting his fingers faster until he feels your walls clench and he hears you scream his name as the knot in your belly unravels. “Good girl.” he praises as he slowly removes his fingers from your pussy. You whine at the loss while you rest your forehead against his chest as you try to catch your breath. He puts his fingers in his mouth and groans at the taste of you, Bucky freezes before he can say anything to you. His attention is on the footsteps rushing towards your position.
The door is kicked open and Bucky goes feral as the scent of the other alphas hit him. He hears all of them inhale and their eyes are fixed on you. Bucky moves so that his large frame keeps you hidden from them.
“We just want a little taste of your omega. She smells delicious.” One of the men says as he steps into the room. Bucky orders you into the corner of the room before he starts his assault on the men that dared even look in your direction. He’s fueled by pure rage and his need as an alpha to protect his omega.
As soon as the last of the guards hit the floor Bucky fixes your uniform before grabbing you and carries you out of the room as Steve tells him it’s all clear.
They rush from the building, Steve leading the way in case anyone else tries to stop them and Bucky has you in his arms. During this whole ordeal your head is fuzzy and all you want to do is strip your clothes and be close to them, taking in their scent. Somehow during this mess you ended up on Steve’s lap, while Bucky handled getting the jet off the ground.
“Alpha.” You call out to Steve. He growls when he hears you call him by his designation. Steve would never admit it but he’s wanted to hear you say that word for a while and hearing it along with your sweet scent and the slick that is pooling in between your thighs he’s sure to go into a rut.
“Omega?”
“Please, need to feel you.”
“You want my knot, sweetheart?” he coos. All you can do is nod. “Use your words baby.”
“Yes, I want your knot.” as you shift to straddle him. Steve rips your clothes off, your inner thighs covered in slick. He lifts you slightly so that he can lower his pants and boxers enough to free his already hard cock. In one swift move Steve buries himself in your wet heat, causing both of you to moan. No matter how many times you’ve been with them it always took you a moment before you could start moving. You relish the stretch and feel of him as you begin to move, His hands around your waist to keep you steady as you grab the straps on his shoulders. Rolling your hips a couple of times you moan as he captures your lips with his. Needing more, you begin to bounce on his cock.
“So needy sweetheart.” Steve groans “take what you need omega. Just like that.”
You mewl at his words as you try to move faster. Steve’s hands move to your hips and he begins to take control as he thrusts up into you. You throw your head back unconsciously baring your neck for him. “Fuck, you feel so good. I’m gonna mark you right here.” His teeth grace the junction between your shoulder and neck right where your mating gland is. “Do you want that omega?”
“Y-yes alpha, please.” You say in your lust filled haze, your eyes half lidded and glazed over as you hold onto his shoulders straps tighter. He continues his fast pace as one hand moves from your hip to your swollen bundle of nerves. The added stimulation causes you to clench around Steve’s cock. Pressure begins to build between your legs, you realize it’s his knot.
“I can feel you’re so close sweetheart. Let go baby.”
His words are all you need for your orgasm to wash over you with a moan of his name, his teeth sinking into your neck. You can feel the bond come to life as he laps at the mark he made. Then you feel his knot catch as his hips start to stutter. With one final thrust Steve spills into you as his knot locks you both into place. Exhaustion creeps over you and you lay with your head on Steve’s shoulder, drifting off into sleep as you hear him praise you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your eyes flutter open and taking in your surroundings you realize you’re in bed just not yours. There’s a slight ache on your neck and you feel almost guilty but you’re not sure why. When you sit up your head feels fuzzy and you groan because of your sore muscles. The sheet that had been covering falls and reveals that you're naked and you’re flooded with confusion. As you look around the room you see a water bottle on the nightstand and you grab it, drinking half of it immediately.
The door opens slowly and you cover your chest unsure of who will walk in but you only see Bucky standing at the door. He smiles at you but as his woodsy scent, mixed with Steve’s warm and comforting scent, permeates through the room a small whine bubbles up and escapes you.
“Where are we?”
“We’re in a safehouse, doll. You presented during the mission.” He tells you as he sits at the edge of the bed. Bucky is breathing heavily as he fights against his most basest instinct to mate and claim you.
Steve stands in the doorway with a tray in his hands but he doesn’t walk in. Instead he hovers around the door, guilt floods the bond. It’s a foriegn feeling to you and your hand goes to your neck as you trace the almost healed mark left there by the blonde alpha.
“Steve, are you ok?”
His smile is small, your question enough to get him to move and he places the tray on the bed opposite Bucky.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?”
“Fuzzy and hot… and really sticky.” you say and they chuckle.
“Eat first omega and then we’ll get you cleaned up ok?”
“Will you stay with me?” you mumble as you look at Steve.
“Of course.”
Steve moves to rest against the headboard and you immediately crawl on his lap. Steve and Bucky take care of you, doing exactly as they said they would, you eat a bit of the fruit that was brought in as well as some yogurt. Then Steve takes you into the shower so that you can wash up. With your new bond set in place though you want to cling to your alpha and he won’t say no to you. Even before you dated there was nothing neither him nor Bucky wouldn’t do with or for you. This moment was exactly what you needed, as you washed each other, it was intimate and comforting. You reassured Steve that you did want him to claim you and to hear you say those words lifted a weight off his shoulders and you felt relief wash over the bond. Once you were both done you headed back into the bedroom as you began to feel slick start to coat your inner thighs again.
This time Bucky would help you through it and you assured him that you also wanted him to claim you. It’s how you found yourself presenting for your alpha. A needy whine spills from your lips when you feel Bucky behind you.
“Alpha please.” you say as you look at him over your shoulder.
“It’s ok ‘mega. I’m gonna take care of you.”
Bucky takes his already hard cock and slides it through your folds. The head of his cock hits your clit and the sensation has you mewling. He groans as he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. You wiggle your hips once he bottoms out, needing that friction more than anything.
“Please alpha, need you.” you beg over and over until he finally starts to move.
Bucky’s pace is slow at first, he wants to feel all of you. The way you flutter around him when the angle is just right. But the moaning and begging mixed with your sweet scent are all consuming and his pace quickens. Bucky keeps you in place by gripping your hips, the area will be sore tomorrow you’re both too far gone to care.
“Feel so good omega. Like you were made for me.” He growls as he snakes an arm around your body and up to your throat.
The hold isn’t tight but it’s enough for him to pull you against his chest. You take hold of his forearm and your nails dig into his flesh as he begins to tease your clit. The coil starts to tighten again low in your belly as Bucky continues to push you further into unbridled bliss. His breath hits your cheek as he begins to whisper in your ear.
“Such a good girl. Look at you taking me so well. Are you gonna cum for me? Show your alpha how good you feel?”
You nod as a strangled moan escapes you. Your head lolls to the side as pleasure takes over you. The only thing you’re aware of is Bucky claiming you just as Steve had. His hips falter for just a moment and you feel his knot swelling, locking you in place. Bucky sings sweet praises in your ear as he moves both of you into a comfortable position. You try to fight off the sleep, you want to bask in the joy of this new development but you’re too tired and the warmth Bucky provides is your undoing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
You walked back into the tower a week later hand in hand with Steve while Bucky offered to carry your bags. Their ruts had started a few hours after your heat began and the week at the safe house was spent being tangled up with each other. At first you had been caught off guard when they said they wanted you to claim them, it was almost unheard of. But you did it and it was one of the most thrilling moments of your life.
Once the elevator opened up to the shared floor the rest of the team slowly filed out to meet you. It was a series of congratulations and hugs for the three of you. Tony had been the most excited about the new development. He was your closest friend and you had confided to him that you wish you could have presented.
Your childhood hadn’t been easy, being rejected by so many people made you doubt what your purpose was. But being in Steve and Bucky’s arms you realized you were meant to be more than just an omega. Never in your life did you imagine that not only would you become a highly important member of a team dedicated to saving people but that you could still be an omega and kickass. You were more than elated that you didn’t present until now because you found alphas that valued you for more than your heat. They gave themselves fully to you so you gave yourself fully to them. And you wouldn’t change a thing about it.
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legends-and-savages · 1 year ago
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buckets-and-trees · 1 month ago
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Warm Shadows - The Dawn Has Come [double epilogue]
Collection: Warm Shadows Chapter Title: The Dawn Has Come Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader x Alpha!Steve Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: The aftermath - and the happily ever after? An epilogue with two distinct parts befitting the journey with the two alphas.
Content Warnings: omegaverse: heat and ruts, manipulating bonding marks; explicit smut: oral (m receiving), clitoral fingering, breastplay, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breeding
Additional Notes: My offering for the fourth week of Chris-Mas is the epilogue to finally bring the Warm Shadows saga to a close on the ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY from when I posted the first chapter! This is also filling my October prompt for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo with an appearance from our dear Alpine!
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER
It's been fifteen months since you returned to Wakanda. After the initial few weeks spent on your own while Steve and Bucky cleaned up all trace of the Captain Hydra project, your alphas returned to you weary and a little worse for wear, but unharmed overall. Waiting for them, you had done your best trying not to spiral into anxious worry.
You had put yourself to use volunteering to work in one of the schools. It was work you knew mattered, and the children were sweet, clever, precocious, and filled your days with so much to do and think about that it was a worthwhile distraction, and you went back to your living quarters blissfully tired every night. You were not a stranger to Wakanda, since you had been visiting with Bucky every year since your binding ritual, and so it wasn’t evenings of solitary loneliness night after night when you were off either - the small circle of friends you’d made over those previous visits kept you company often enough.
Even so, the reunion with your alphas had come just when you might have started to truly worry.
Keeping his promise, though, Bucky hadn’t closed off his bond to you completely like he had when you’d been taken. It was muted so he would neither worry you nor lose focus, but he and Steve both let their bonds be more open when they weren’t engaged in any specific operations.
The first full moon after they returned, Bucky and Steve had performed the ritual and sworn the blood oath to create a pack bond. It had been what Bucky had described, as beautiful as your mind had imagined, and surpassed what any of you had anticipated in elements of primal nature and magic combining to transform your connections and their power as alphas. It was something so sacred to have experienced that you rarely spoke of it because there simply weren’t words. Bucky later pointed out that the lack of records around the ritual and its effects made sense.
One of the triumphs of Steve and Bucky’s “clran up” mission had been the discovery - while destroying evidence - of the notebooks the Hydra scientists had used to document Steve’s torture and conditioning. Shuri and Ayo integrated that information with what they had done before in unraveling Hydra’s grip on Bucky as the Winter Soldier, and it had been a long - an unrushed - process, but after a few months, Steve began to believe (and he was the last one convinced) that he was free. He had changed, but he was a true version of himself again. Bucky, more than anyone else, helped Steve to see that he wouldn’t have to live in the shadow of what he’d done forever - though there were times the shadows would undoubtedly - and painfully - cross his mind.
Building a new chapter of your life in Wakanda, you had continued your work at the school. Steve had gone back to art and drawing. Shuri drew him in for opinions on political matters once or twice, then more and more often, until she had effectively enlisted him as an outside consultant on foreign policy. And Bucky, well, he had found his place once again in Wakanda's science research lab, but with more responsibility and working in actual partnership on bigger projects since the three of you were staying for longer.
You also relentlessly teased your alphas for their love of farming. They tended to a small pack of goats. But you didn’t complain when you watched them undertaking some of the more laborious tasks that required muscle.
Over a year, you really had carved out a life that worked for the three of you to figure out your relationship.
As dinner time approached, you and Steve were busy preparing a meal together in the kitchen of your small cottage. It was something that had become almost ritualistic for the two of you. Cooking together had become one of your favorite ways to spend time with each other.
"Did you remember to pick up some more herbs from the market?" Steve asks as he sets a pot on the stove.
You nod, setting down the cutting board with chopped vegetables. "Yeah, I got them this morning."
"Great," he smiles at you before turning back to his task.
You can’t help but smile too as you watch him work. This simple domestic life was its own healing balm.
You don’t hear Bucky come in, but Bucky’s arrival is announced by Alpine, who greeted him immediately at the door with a barrage of meows, chatting away at her favorite human. You and Steve don’t take it personally as she still doles out a bit of affection to you two as well.
He enters the kitchen carrying Alpine in the crook of his arm, scratching her head with his other hand. “Smells delicious in here,” he says, happily.
"Hey Buck," you smile and pull him close for a quick kiss.
"How was your day?" Steve asks.
"It was good," Bucky replies. "I spent most of it in the lab."
Steve raises an eyebrow at that, and the two of you exchange a look. Bucky usually likes to excitedly launch into some new development or bemoan a roadblock but with ideas of how he already wants to tweak his approach for the next day.
"What were you working on?" Steve presses further.
Bucky shrugs. "Just more tests on the vibranium alloys. Nothing too exciting."
You and Steve exchange another glance, sensing there's something Bucky isn't telling you, but silently agree not to push. If it's important, he'll tell you when he's ready.
"Well, dinner will be ready soon," you say. "Why don't you go wash up?"
Bucky nods, setting Alpine down gently. "Sounds good. I'll be right back."
As he leaves the kitchen, you turn to Steve.
"He seems off," Steve says quietly.
"Yeah. He didn't seem upset, just... distracted maybe?"
"Well, let's just keep an eye on him tonight," Steve suggests. "If something's truly bothering him, we’ll feel it.”
You nod in agreement with Steve, turning back to the stove to stir the simmering pot. The rich aroma of herbs and spices fills the kitchen, mingling with the comforting scents of the home you’ve built with your alphas.
Bucky returns a few minutes later, his hair damp from a quick shower. He moves to help set the table, falling into the familiar rhythm of your shared domestic life. As you bring the food to the table, you can't help but notice the slight tension in Bucky's shoulders, the way his eyes seem to flicker between you and Steve more frequently than usual.
Dinner conversation flows easily enough, with Steve recounting a particularly amusing incident from his day meeting with M’Baku in the mountain fortress of the Jabari. You chime in with stories from the school, delighting in the way both your alphas' eyes light up when you talk about your students' progress. Bucky listens attentively, but he remains more subdued.
He responds when spoken to, but doesn't engage in his usual animated conversation. You and Steve keep exchanging glances, your worry growing as the meal progresses.
As you're clearing the dishes, Bucky suddenly speaks up. "I have something I need to tell you both."
You and Steve freeze, turning to look at him. Your heart races, anxiety creeping in at his serious tone.
"What is it, Buck?" Steve asks, his voice calm but laced with concern.
Bucky runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognize as a sign of his nervousness. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, and... well, I think it's time we consider going back."
Steve's brow furrows, and you feel your heart skip a beat. "Going back?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky nods, his steel-blue eyes moving between you and Steve. "To New York," he clarifies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
You exchange a glance with Steve, surprise and confusion evident on both your faces. Bucky takes a deep breath, his metal hand absently stroking Alpine, who has curled up in his lap. "Shuri approached me today with an interesting proposition," he begins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "She's been working on plans for Wakanda's next International Outreach Center, and she's decided to open it in New York."
You lean forward, intrigued. "New York?”
Bucky nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, in Brooklyn actually. And she's offered me a spot to work on the science and technology team there."
Steve's eyes widen. "Buck, that's amazing," he says, his voice filled with pride.
You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you - excitement, anxiety, hope. "When would this be happening?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. "Not for a few months yet. There's still a lot of planning and preparation to be done. But," he pauses, his eyes meeting yours, then Steve's, "I wanted to talk to you both about it first. This obviously isn't just my decision to make."
Steve leans back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought, so you take the lead on pushing the conversation forward. "It's a big step," you say slowly. "We've built a lot here, and Wakanda is incredible, but… I do miss our other home.”
Bucky squeezes your hand. “Me, too.”
“And Mexican food and pizza,” you add.
He laughs, and Steve smiles.
Then you look at Steve, studying his face, probing at the bond between you. “What do you have tucked away that you haven’t told us?” you ask, realizing for the last couple of days he’s been projecting perhaps too much of a business-as-normal attitude.
“Okay, fine, I might have my own proposition from Shuri as well,” he admits.
“And?” you push, Bucky sitting up straighter in his chair.
“She wants to open official diplomatic relationships with a handful of countries - the US being one of them - and wants to request me as ambassador.”
You and Bucky stare at Steve in stunned silence for a moment.
"Ambassador?" Bucky finally says, his voice a mix of surprise and enthusiasm. "Steve, that's incredible."
"It really is!” you chime in just as excitedly, your mind racing with the implications. “We have every confidence in you, but are you ready for that kind of public role again?"
Steve takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. "I've been thinking about it a lot. And I think I am. It's not the same as being Captain America - it's not about being a symbol or a hero. It's about building bridges, fostering understanding. I think... I think I could do some real good."
Bucky reaches out, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You could, punk. You absolutely could."
You feel a swell of emotion in your chest, pride and love for both your alphas mingling with a hint of uncertainty.
“How long have you been sitting on this?" Bucky asks.
Steve has the grace to look a bit sheepish. "She only approached me officially yesterday, but we've been discussing the possibility for a few weeks now."
Bucky turns his eyes back to you - they both do - and he tugs on your hand to bring you back to the present. “What’s on your mind, Omega?”
You chew on your bottom lip before voicing the thought in your head. “Positions to ship both of you back off to the United States… do you think Shuri’s politely trying to kick us out?”
Steve leans in, a wry grin on his face. “Kick us out? Can’t you see what she’s doing?”
“What?”
Bucky chuckles and joins in, "She's clearly giving us undeniable reasons to go home."
“But why?”
The two alphas exchange a knowing look before bursting into laughter. “Really, sweetheart?” Steve asks.
Bucky’s tone is teasing as he adds, “Do you not also have some news to share with us?”
Your brow furrows. “What do you two know that I don’t?”
Your two alphas exchange another look, then turn their eyes back on you.
“Omega,” Bucky starts, his voice now serious, “your scent changed in the days after you took our knots in your last heat.”
“We’re certain you’re pregnant,” Steve finishes.
You gasp, the words taking a moment to fully register in your mind before your hand moves to your stomach. "Pregnant?" you repeat, disbelief and excitement swirling inside you.
FIVE WEEKS EARLIER
You wake with a gasp, your body trembling with need. Sweat beads on your skin as waves of heat roll through you, igniting every nerve ending. Your nightgown clings to your damp skin as you writhe on the bed, seeking friction against the sheets.
"Steve... Bucky..." you moan, your voice thick with desire.
The room is still dark, the first hints of dawn barely peeking through the curtains. But your alphas are instantly alert, their enhanced senses picking up on your distress and arousal.
"Omega," Bucky's voice is a low rumble as he rolls towards you, his metal arm cool against your fevered skin. "We've got you."
Steve presses against your other side, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. "What do you need?" he asks.
Steve's hand cups your breast through the thin fabric of your nightgown, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. You arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping your lips. "Please," you gasp, your body burning with desire. "Need you both."
Bucky's metal hand trails down your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "We're here, ‘mega," he murmurs, his voice husky with want. "We'll take care of you."
Your heats come once each season, good regularity for an omega, but with alphas only falling into rut once or twice a year, this is the first time the three of you have cycled together, both of your alphas finally syncing to you.
Steve's fingers find the hem of your nightgown, slowly inching it up your thighs. "Always so beautiful," he breathes, his eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you.
You writhe between them, desperate for more contact. Your skin feels too tight, too hot, and you need their touch like you need air to breathe. "Alpha," you moan, not even sure which one you're calling for – you need them both equally.
Your skin feels like it's on fire, every brush of their hands sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The familiar ache of heat pulses deep in your core, your body preparing itself to be claimed by your alphas.
Bucky captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue explores your mouth. Steve's hand slips between your thighs, finding you already wet and ready. You gasp into Bucky's mouth as Steve's fingers circle your sensitive bundle of nerves.
"So wet for us already," Steve murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You break away from Bucky's kiss, panting. "Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against Steve's hand. "Need you inside me."
Bucky's metal hand trails down your body, cool against your feverish skin. He gently pushes your nightgown up, exposing more of your heated flesh to the cool air of the room. Steve helps you sit up just enough to pull the garment over your head, leaving you bare between them.
The cool air of the room kisses your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Bucky's metal hand trails down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Steve's fingers trace patterns on your inner thigh, inching closer to where you need them most.
"You're gorgeous like this," Bucky says, his voice low and husky. Steve hums in agreement, his eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you.
They’ve both been on the cusp of their ruts for the past few days, waiting for your heat to break, and you can smell the pleased anticipation positively rolling off them now.
You writhe between them. "Please," you pout, your body burning with need. "I need you both."
Steve captures your lips in a searing kiss as Bucky's metal fingers find your slick folds. You gasp into Steve's mouth as Bucky slowly slides two fingers inside you, stretching you deliciously.
“This cunt is crying for her alphas’ knots, isn’t it?” Bucky asks.
You nod frantically, beyond words as pleasure courses through you. Steve breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as Bucky's fingers work inside you.
"Tell us what you need, Omega," Steve whispers against your skin.
"You," you gasp. "Both of you. Please, I need to feel you both inside me."
Bucky growls low in his throat, his fingers withdrawing from you. You whimper at the loss, but then Steve is lifting you, positioning you over his hard length. You sink down onto him with a moan of relief, feeling deliciously full. He lays back, pulling you along with him.
"That's it, sweetheart," Steve breathes, his hands gripping your hips. "Take what you need."
You begin to move, rocking against Steve as Bucky watches with hungry eyes. After a few moments, Bucky moves to kneel next to your head. Without a word, you turn your head to take his cock into your mouth.
The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - skin against skin, breathless moans and whispered endearments. You rock your hips, taking Steve deeper inside you as you work Bucky with your mouth. Their scents surround you, pine and metal mingling with the heady aroma of your shared arousal.
Steve's hands remain on your hips, guiding your movements as you ride him. Bucky's metal hand tangles in your hair, not forcing but encouraging as you take him deeper. The dual sensations of being filled by both your alphas sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"So perfect for us," Steve groans, his hips bucking up to meet yours.
Bucky's flesh hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your stretched lips. "Look at you, taking us both so well," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.
You moan around Bucky's length, the vibrations making him groan. The praise from your alphas sends a thrill through you, spurring you on. You rock your hips faster, chasing your pleasure as you take them both deeper.
Steve's hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh in a way that's sure to leave marks. The thought of being marked by your alpha only heightens your arousal.
The dual sensations of Steve inside you and Bucky in your mouth are overwhelming. Heat coils tighter in your core with each thrust, each stroke. You can feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of bliss.
"That's it, Omega," Steve growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "Come for us. Let us feel you."
You work your fingers against Steve’s bonding mark, and he groans in a primal way. “Omega, don’t - you don’t know - “ he warns.
But you suspect what will happen if you tease and torture the place where finally you claimed him back. You’re tired of Steve holding back, and you want to trigger the true primal alpha side you know he’s still keeping behind walls of restraint, shame, and worry.
Your heat makes you more desperate, but also brings you closer to your base instincts. You know what you want, what you crave, what you need, and you know how to get it.
And so you keep stroking, pushing, probing. Bucky watches you, inclining his head slightly - silently asking if you’re sure of what you’re doing, and you nod even as Steve’s body starts to shake beneath you and his thrusts become more erratic. Bucky nods and pulls out of your mouth.
In a swift motion, you bite Steve’s mark anew, and he shouts, and snaps - you feel it through your connection, and you preen in triumph, but only for a fraction of a second because Steve’s immediately flipping you over. Without pause, he continues to fuck you, your legs spread wide for him now.
"You want a wild alpha fucking you?" Steve growls, his eyes dark with primal desire.
“Yes,” you moan, raking your fingers down his chest as you feel the knot at the base of his cock start to swell and move into your slick, desperate channel.
Steve's thrusts become more powerful, more frantic. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider as he drives into you. With his knot growing inside of you, he can only rut, but his angle, the thickness of his length, the rubbing of the knot is perfection.
Bucky moves down to kneel next to Steve, his metal hand gripping Steve's shoulder. "Easy, punk," he murmurs, but there's a hint of arousal in his voice. "Don't break our Omega."
Steve snarls in response, but his thrusts slow slightly, becoming more controlled yet no less intense. You whimper at the change in pace, your body trembling with need. "Please," you gasp, "don't stop."
Steve's eyes lock with yours, dark with desire and something wilder. "Never," he growls, his hips snapping forward.
Bucky's metal hand slides down your body, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out as he begins to circle it with expert precision, the dual sensations of Steve's thrusts and Bucky's touch pushing you closer to the edge.
"That's it, Omega," Bucky murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go for us."
Steve's knot swells further, catching on your rim with each thrust. The stretch is delicious, bordering on too much but not quite. You arch your back, chasing the sensation.
"Gonna fill you up," Steve pants, his voice rough with need. "Breed you full of our pups."
His words send a jolt of pleasure through you. "Yes," you moan, "please, Alpha. Want your pups."
Bucky growls low in his throat, his fingers working faster against your clit. "You’ll take our knots until you’re bulging for us, so full of our cum.”
You nod frantically, beyond words as pleasure builds within you. Steve's thrusts become more erratic, his knot swelling to its full size. With one final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his knot locking you together as he begins to pulse his release.
The sensation of being filled, stretched, and knotted pushes you over the edge. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, your body clenching around
Steve's knot. Your vision goes white at the edges as pleasure courses through every nerve ending. Steve collapses on top of you, his body shuddering with aftershocks.
Bucky's metal hand continues to work your sensitive bundle of nerves, prolonging your orgasm. You writhe beneath Steve, overwhelmed by sensation. Steve nips and licks at the top of your chest while he’s locked inside of you.
As your orgasm subsides, you lay panting beneath Steve, his weight a comforting presence. Bucky's metal hand moves to stroke your hair, soothing you as you come down from your high.
"You okay, Omega?" Bucky asks softly, his eyes searching your face.
You nod, still catching your breath. "More than okay," you manage to say, a blissful smile spreading across your face.
Steve lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a mix of emotions in his gaze - love, desire, and a hint of concern. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, his voice low.
You shake your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. "No, Steve. I wanted the Alpha side you’ve been holding back from me." You pull him down for a tender kiss, pouring all your love and reassurance into it.
As you break the kiss, you turn to Bucky. “Give me your cock, Alpha.”
He laughs. “You’re already full of cock, greedy girl.”
“Only one hole. I want more,” you whine.
Bucky's eyes darken with desire at your words. "You sure you can handle more, Omega?"
You nod eagerly, licking your lips as you eye his hard length. "Please, Alpha. Need to taste you."
Steve shifts slightly, careful not to pull on his knot, allowing you better access to Bucky. Bucky moves closer, positioning himself so you can reach him without straining.
You open your mouth, inviting him in. Bucky groans as he slides his cock between your lips, the taste of him exploding on your tongue. You moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder.
"That's it," Bucky murmurs, his metal hand coming to cup your cheek. "Take what you need."
You work him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before taking him deeper. Steve watches with dark eyes, his hips making small, involuntary thrusts as his knot keeps you joined.
The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - Bucky's low groans, Steve's panting breaths, and your muffled moans. The scent of sex and arousal hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the unique scents of your alphas.
"So good for us," Bucky praises, his voice rough with desire.
Steve's hand finds your breast, kneading gently. The sensations of Steve's knot locked inside you, Bucky's cock in your mouth, and Steve’s kneading hand send waves of pleasure through your body.
Your heat simmers just below the surface, temporarily sated but far from over. You can feel it building again, a slow burn that promises to consume you once more. But for now, you focus on the taste of Bucky on your tongue, the weight of Steve inside you, the scent of your alphas surrounding you.
You want more of Bucky - more thrusting, faster, rougher - but you know he won’t give it to you right now. He’s content and determined to wait so he can knot and fill you as soon as Steve’s knot goes down. And you want him to fill you up, too.
Bucky's metal hand cups your cheek gently as you continue to work him with your mouth. His flesh hand strokes through your hair, the tender gesture contrasting with the raw desire in his eyes. You can feel his restraint, the way he's holding back from thrusting too hard.
"That's it, ‘mega," he murmurs, his voice strained. "You're doing so well."
Steve's knot is still firmly lodged inside you, but you can feel it starting to soften ever so slightly. His hand continues to knead your breast, occasionally pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers.
Steve's knot finally softens enough for him to slip out of you. You whimper at the loss, feeling empty and needy. But Bucky doesn’t make you wait. He’s immediately pulling out of your mouth, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. Moving in sync as only they could with their history in and out of battle, Steve makes way for Bucky to take his place between your thighs.
"Get ready for my knot," he says, his voice low and husky. “It will be the one of many this weekend, and you’re going to take it eagerly every time - from both of us.”
You nod eagerly, spreading your legs wider in invitation. "Please, Alpha," you whimper, your body aching to be filled again.
With one smooth thrust, he buries himself inside you, groaning at the sensation of your slick heat enveloping him. You cry out in pleasure, your back arching off the bed.
"So wet and open for me," Bucky growls, his hips starting a punishing rhythm. "Still dripping with Steve's cum."
The thought sends a thrill through you, knowing you're filled with one alpha's seed while taking the other. Steve lays beside you. He strokes your cheek before slipping his thumb into your mouth, and you automatically close your lips around it and start to suck and moan.
Bucky's thrusts are deep and powerful, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His metal hand grips your hip, the cool metal a stark contrast to your heated skin.
“We’re gonna pass you between us, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs directly into your ear, then licks up the shell. “Keep you on our knots, fill you with our cum, make sure you’re going to swell with us after this heat.”
The thought of being passed between your alphas, filled with their cum and swelling with their pups sends a jolt of pleasure through you, makes you write eagerly for more. You moan around Steve's thumb, your hips bucking up to meet Bucky's powerful thrusts.
Bucky growls, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Gonna fill you up, Omega. Breed you full."
"That's it," Steve murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go for us, sweetheart. Show us how good we make you feel."
Bucky's thrusts become more erratic, his knot beginning to swell, and Steve decides to torture you with divine licks pressed to the base of your neck over bonding mark he gave you, heightening your heat and bringing your primal self out more as you’d done to him. You can only moan and keen and grasp at them both.
"Alpha," you gasp, your body trembling on the edge of release. "Please, I need-"
"We know what you need, Omega," Bucky growls, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. "Gonna give it to you. Gonna fill you up so good."
Steve's hand trails down your body, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circles it with expert precision, adding to the overwhelming sensations. "Come for us," he demands, giving your engorged clit a pinch that triggers your orgasm, and you groan.
With one final, powerful thrust, Bucky buries himself deep inside you, his knot locking you together as he begins to pulse his release. The sensation amplifies and prolongs the intensity of your orgasm, your body clenching around Bucky's knot, trembling and gasping beneath him.
"That's it, Omega," Bucky groans, his body shuddering above you. "Take it all."
Your vision blurs at the edges as wave after wave of ecstasy courses through you.
As your orgasm begins to subside, you lay panting beneath Bucky, who collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence. You kiss him, long and hard, momentarily sated.
But then you turn your head and reach for Steve, bringing his lips to yours. You move your mouth between them, needing their kisses more than you need air, eager and ready to take them over and over again through this heat, body more insatiable than you have ever been. And you can’t imagine anything else feeling as right as this does. They’re yours.
Forever.
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druidrot · 11 months ago
Text
the shadow in the valley
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pairing: gale dekarios/reader (f/m)
word count: 3.3k
warnings: angst, slight death and descriptions of the void, gale gets his munch on, he calls reader tav ONCE (once), a fun little twist on gale's confession
rating: explicit - MDNI
Summary:
“Ah, so you return to us once more,” he teases, though his voice is tinged with something unplaceable. “You gave us all quite the scare.” 
“You look tired,” you respond simply, careful of the loaded statement. 
He barks out a disbelieving little chuckle, sighing as he runs a hand over his eyes. “Yes, well, sleep eludes one when they worry over the life of their dearest companion.” 
That same stirring from before, back in that dreaded town, burns in your chest again. You can’t help it, so you find yourself teasing him. 
“Dearest companion, hmm?” Even though your voice is still a bit hoarse, you manage to sound coy. “I seem to remember you telling me you love me.”
You delight in the way the flush blooms from his neck to his face as he clears his throat. “Erm, well, yes, I suppose I did.”
At this point, the only thing you can focus on is the cold; dreadful, painful cold. 
It is as if ice twists itself down to your very core, gnawing at bone, sinew, blood. You think you have never felt so cold, so empty. Your ears ring and the pressure in your head is all-encompassing. It is as though you are in deep water; deep, frigid, unrelenting water. You think you register shouting through the overwhelming fog, but you can’t find the cognizance to concentrate on it. 
You feel the cold intensify, your insides twisting and coiling in discomfort. Then, you no longer feel even your own heartbeat, no longer feel the pain that so tortures you. Even the ringing in your ears fades, the sound becoming distant, discordant. It is like you sink further, deeper, like nothing surrounds you but a deep, endless abyss. 
What’s left of your mind wanders and you are weightless, thoughtless, nameless. Not even the cold bothers you anymore, nor the weight that encumbers your soul. This must be what death is. You can’t rationalize it, can’t name it anymore, but intrinsically some part of your soul recognizes that you float in the palms of Kelemvor.
Death is absence, peace. You are naught but the abyss that swallows you, ready to be harvested for the City of Judgment. There is a warm touch that blooms in the recesses of your soul, yet that sickening weight from before begins to return. The cold slowly begins to seep back into your being. The ringing in your ears, the pressure in your mind, even the fluttering of your frantic heart bursts back into existence, a violent cacophony of sensation that has your soul burning. The water that drags you under begins to recede.
With a sickening pop, you are thrust back into yourself. It is jarring, the sensation of returning to life. Your mind reels with memory, how you got here, where you just came from. You gasp, body lurching as that same dreadful cold from before burns through your waking bones. 
“By the gods,” you hear, distantly. “Shadowheart, she’s awake!” 
When your vision comes back into focus, you find that you are cradled in the arms of your resident wizard. His eyes shine with tears in the torchlight, but still he wears a small, tortured smile as he smooths a stray hair away from your forehead. 
“There you are,” he whispers, soft. “Stay with me now, love.”
You want to say something in response but all that comes out is a wet cough. You feel your chest rattle with the weight of it, cringing through the pain. Gale’s eyes harden as he calls for Shadowheart once more. 
You vaguely remember why you came here. The search for the Thorm mausoleum had taken you to the heart of Reithwin town. True to fashion, a pack of hungry shadows and shadow-cursed undead had waited rather patiently for an ambush.  
One wrong move on your part and a lash from a shadow vine sent you careening through the area, the pixie bell in your pocket falling loose during your unexpected flight. You had been cast to an area where the curse was particularly strong, and as you fought the shadows threatening to steal your soul, a wayward wraith shot you with a necrotic spell that sapped you of any strength. It was like being plunged into ice, the last thing you remember before waking up in Gale’s arms. 
You don’t understand why you haven’t been claimed already, but the cold that still engulfs you bodes ill. You can feel yourself slipping again, can feel that sweet call of the void that welcomed you before, the void that promises nothing, absence. 
“Hey, don’t you do this to me again,” you hear, distantly. “Stay with me, my love. Please stay with me.” 
You hum in response, tired. 
“Please,” Gale’s voice is hoarse with tears. Absently, you think you’ve never seen him look so scared before, not even when Mystra basically ordered him to his death. It gnaws at you, his fear. You don’t want him to be scared. 
“Gale,” you whisper, weakly. “It’ll be…just fine.” 
His answering laugh is humorless. “The woman I love lay dying in my arms and still you show remarkable optimism. Quite on the nose for you, yes.” 
Your fluttering heart jumps in your chest. You offer him a small smile, cracked with blood and fear. “You…love me…huh?” 
“So much more than you could ever imagine,” he responds quietly, resolutely. “Which is why I need you to stay alive. I have so much I’d like to share with you.” 
Once again, you find yourself wanting to respond but too weak to do so. Finally, you watch as Shadowheart and Karlach approach Gale, shining little pixie bell nestled between the fingers of your dear tiefling’s hand. Immediately, the cold seems to recede from your bones and you breathe a shaky sigh of relief. 
“Stay with us,” Shadowheart orders, falling to her knees beside you. Her face is streaked with blood and her eyes are steely, but still you see the fear that hides there. You try to offer her a reassuring smile. 
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she whispers as she presses her hands over your heart. “Without that bell, my magic would do little to heal you. This curse is much too potent once you’ve been touched by it. I can do enough to ensure we make it back to Last Light. I don’t have much strength left so Isobel will have to do the rest.” 
You try to nod but the weariness you feel overtakes you. You let out a soft sound before giving into the warmth of the cleric’s magic, Gale’s worried eyes the last thing you see before you slip back into the welcoming darkness. 
-
This time you wake in peace. 
The bed under you is delightfully plush, even though it’s naught but straw and hay. You are pleasantly warm under the blankets, that wretched cold from earlier nowhere to be felt. Your body aches minutely, muscles sore and strained, but still you are so very much alive. You breathe a welcome sigh of relief, opening your eyes to the familiar interior of The Last Light Inn. The small room you occupy is a quaint bedroom, just a bed, a few wardrobes, and a small chair by the bed. It takes a moment for your mind to fully clear but when it does, you register the presence of your favorite wizard, sitting vigil in said little chair at the bedside. He offers you a grateful smile when you meet his tender gaze. 
“Ah, so you return to us once more,” he teases, though his voice is tinged with something unplaceable. “You gave us all quite the scare.” 
“You look tired,” you respond simply, careful of the loaded statement. 
He barks out a disbelieving little chuckle, sighing as he runs a hand over his eyes. “Yes, well, sleep eludes one when they worry over the life of their dearest companion.” 
That same stirring from before, back in that dreaded town, burns in your chest again. You can’t help it, so you find yourself teasing him. 
“Dearest companion, hmm?” Even though your voice is still a bit hoarse, you manage to sound coy. “I seem to remember you telling me you love me.”
You delight in the way the flush blooms from his neck to his face as he clears his throat. “Erm, well, yes, I suppose I did.” 
You mewl softly. “While you thought I was dying in your arms, you told me you loved me.”
“I was there,” he reminds you, embarrassed. “And yes, I did tell you I loved you while you were dying in my arms. I could not allow you to pass on ignorant of what you mean to me.” 
Something warm settles in the pit of your belly and you can’t help the way your heart sings in your chest. You find yourself sitting up, laughing softly as he scrambles to help you. His arms are solid at your sides, warm, and when the impulse hits you to cradle his face in your hands and pull him close, you do. 
“Well, I’m still alive,” you breathe, blissfully aware of the way his pupils dilate. “Care to repeat it?"
Gale offers a tepid smile. He shifts so he sits on the bed with you, mindful of your sore body. It takes him a moment to muster his resolve, and you wait patiently as he mulls over what he would like to say to you. When he seems to have settled on something, he takes your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 
“I had a plan,” he begins, gently. “I wanted to do this the right way, but it seems fate has other plans. If we were home, I would have taken you out to explore the wonders Waterdeep has to offer, wooing you over wine and weave. But this is what we have, here, now. You must know how special you are to me, Tav. I’m…I’m in love with you.”
Something warm breaks open in your chest. You don’t think you could find the words to say to him if you wanted to, so you do the next best thing. Leaning forward, you pull him as close to you as you can get him and you press your lips against his in a wanting, searing kiss. He groans softly, lips opening under yours instantly. His hand tangles in your hair and he presses even closer, still mindful of your sore body. 
Gale is a fervent kisser. He is a bit unpracticed, sure, but he more than makes up for it with the devotion that drives his lips. He presses you back into the plush blankets, careful to keep your body caged beneath him. He breaks the kiss after a few succulent moments, grinning down at you oh-so-charmingly. 
“If circumstances were different, I’d show you pleasures beyond your wildest imaginings,” he whispers, leaning down to smatter delicious kisses along your collarbone. “But time is short and you are still weak, not yet wholly mended. I would still like to express my love for you, if you are of a willing mind. I do believe I have an idea.” 
You coo softly as his teeth nip at your skin. The brush of his beard burning against your sensitive neck leaves you gasping, decadent heat blooming through you, lighting you on fire. He seems to like the response, chuckling darkly as he continues his ministrations. 
“Come now, love,” he rasps, moving back to kiss at your lips. “I cannot oblige you if you don’t give me an answer.” 
His kiss is distracting, consuming, but you muster the will to nod your head. “Yes, Gale. Please, anything. Make me feel alive.”
He groans in response. It is broken, desperate, and you find the urgency behind his next kiss breathtaking. So long have you waited for this moment, for the heat of his body against yours, the warm press of his adoring kiss. You want for nothing in this moment, just the building heat that seems to roar between you both. He allows himself to be greedy, stealing the breath straight from your lungs as his hands begin to caress you: your hips, your thighs, your ribcage. He is everywhere all at once, but you don't mind. You are lost to him, have been lost to him since the moment you pulled him out of that portal way back when. 
“You have no idea how long I’ve yearned for you,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, brushing aside the fabric at your collarbone so he can continue along his path. “I am a man starved.”
You moan quietly. “Gale…”
You can feel him grin against your skin. “Yes, my star, I hear you. I cannot wait any longer, either.”
He pushes up on his arms, beginning a slow, sensual descent to the open space between your legs. Once he is settled, his warm hands splay across your belly, handsome face heavy with desire. His eyes are molten pools of heat, yearning, desperation.
“Long has it been since I’ve delved into pleasures of the flesh,” he starts, a twinkle in those dark eyes. “But if you would allow me, I would like to indulge the both of us tonight.”
You swallow a heap of air. “Whatever you desire, Gale, please.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he responds with a grin, heavy hands gliding lower. “If it is your wish, I would like to feast on you tonight, my love. A promise of more to come, when time should allow it.”
“Gale,” you whimper, soft. “I think I should like that very much.” 
He practically glows with relief. You both recognize that the time for words has very much passed, so he makes quick work divesting you of your trousers. A wave of embarrassment washes over you - you are filthy, after all, covered in blood and muck and who knows what else - but your fears are quickly washed away when you take stock of him. HIs eyes are trained at the crux of your panties, right where your sopping cunt weeps through the fabric. He takes a heavy breath, hooded eyes peeking up to catch your heated gaze. 
“I will enjoy myself very, very much,” he growls, leaning forward to lick a hot stripe right over the fabric. You can’t help the gasp you let out, body tensing in anticipation. His answering laugh is low, heady with his desire. He is quick to free you of your panties, eyes softening as he’s greeted by the glistening warmth of your cunt. You want to be embarrassed, want to close your legs and offer yourself another night, but the way he stares at you keeps you rooted in place. He licks his lips, groaning softly as you let out a small, inadvertent moan. 
“If it is too much, tell me to stop,” he orders, leaning forwards. “Otherwise, I plan to leave you absolutely shattered.” 
You don’t have time to respond. Gale’s tongue is hot when he presses it against your clit, delicate at first: a test. He grunts, and soon he takes to licking long stripes through your folds, catching the gathered slick on his tongue. It is positively sinful the way he moves, so slow and deliberate. His tongue is wet, warm, heavy. You mewl as he returns to your clit, sucking softly as his fingers tease at your folds. Considering you now know what death feels like, this is the closest you think you’ll ever get to heaven. 
His onslaught is pure, unadulterated delight. His beard scratches at your cunt deliciously, glistening with the shine of your desire. He is enthusiastic in his ministrations, lapping at you like a man starved, which by his own words, he is. His fingers find your clit, and before you can register it, his tongue dips down into the heat of your entrance. You cry out, hips canting up as he groans in approval. His thumb rubs delicious circles around your clit, tongue dipping in and out of your hole so wantonly you might combust. 
“That’s it,” he croons, taking a moment to take a breath, thumb still relentlessly at your clit. “Chase it, my love. Use me for your pleasure.” 
You nearly cry. He moves back to gentle laps at your clit with his tongue, fingers dipping dangerously low before he breaches your entrance with the tip of a finger. You mewl, body arching off the bed when he plunges the whole digit in. Were he anyone else, you think you’d be embarrassed by the squelch of your quivering cunt. Instead, you find it adds to your arousal, the sound a beautiful cadence, evidence of your undoing at his hands. He plunges another finger in, still slurping and sucking at your sweet little bundle of nerves. He curls those two fingers up, searching for a moment until he finds the spot that has you seeing stars. 
“You are maddeningly beautiful like this,” he whispers, pulling away to level you with a lovesick grin, still plundering away with his fingers. “I can’t wait to ravish you properly, my star. The sight of you wrapped around my cock would be most rapturous indeed.” 
You groan, voice sticky with need. He returns his full attention back to your cunt, sighing happily as he wraps his lips around your engorged clit. He picks up the pace of his fingers, adding a third digit when you begin to pant like a madwoman. He sucks harshly at your clit, groaning his own pleasure when a spasm rocks through you. His fingers hit deliciously deep, his mouth on your clit only adding to the rapid fire that begins to burn through your cunt. 
You feel yourself clench around his fingers, a telltale sign you’re close. Gale doesn’t miss a beat. His fingers take to a wicked pace, his tongue moving around your clit in filthy, sinful circles. It doesn’t take much more to send you over the edge you suddenly find yourself careening over. You gasp brokenly, hips trying to cant away from him as he finishes you off. 
“Just like that,” he praises, rather smugly. “Let yourself go, my love, let yourself release.” 
It is like a rubber band snaps, the pressure in your cunt growing until it explodes. You almost quake with the intensity of your cunt bearing down on his fingers, slick pooling around them in thick, delicious rivulets. Sensation leaves you all at once, and when you finally come back to yourself, Gale hovers over you with a knowing smile, beard still glistening, fingers still shining with your arousal. 
He licks them clean, of course, and you mewl as your cunt clenches around nothing. He laughs adoringly, smoothing your hair down with the hand that wasn't inside of you. 
“You are absolutely divine,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you despite the slick gathered around his face. “Nothing or no one in the planes could ever compare.” 
You feel yourself flush but still you offer him a warm smile. “Thank you, Gale. Truly.” 
“Make no mention of it,” he returns, humbly. “This was a gift for me as well. I only hope that it will not be the last time you and I can be alone together like this.” 
You grin coquettishly. “Gale, I think I’m spoiled for anyone else. I love you, I want you. At this point, it will take Ao himself to tear me from you.” 
“Then I am a man most lucky,” he concedes, kissing you once more. “Now, as much as I’d love to keep you to myself like this, I believe the others are waiting for your recovery. We should clean you up and get you something to eat. You still need to recover your strength if we are to continue our journey.” 
He helps you back into your trousers and with a quick cast of prestidigitation, you find yourselves blessedly free of the cum, blood, and dirt miring both of you. You smile graciously as he helps you to your feet. 
“I meant it when I said I love you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his embrace. “I really thought I was going to lose you.” 
“I’m here now,” you respond, resolutely. “And I won’t let my guard down again, of that I can assure you. We will find a way to keep you here with me, too. I cannot lose you, Gale. Not now.” 
He smiles sadly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Come now, my love. That conversation is best saved for the morning. Let us return to our companions tonight, hmm? They are eager to see you and while you are delightfully decadent, I find myself hungering for some real food.” 
It is easy to concede to him tonight. You know the stakes are ever-raising but you also know that you are more than equipped to handle them. For now, you allow yourself this sweet little respite with the man you love, end of the world be damned. So you smile and offer a sweet kiss, taking his hand as you begin the walk back to your waiting companions.  
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welp, this was born from pure wish fulfillment so i hope u enjoy. crossposted on my ao3! this was inspired by a prompt from one of the recent lists i reblogged: Prompt #1025: "You told me you loved me." "Yes." "While you thought I was dying in your arms." "Yes." "Well, I’m still alive. Care to repeat that?"
as usual, requests are open! comments, reblogs, and follows are greatly appreciated!
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