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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

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Cheating Heart

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your feeling for John were wrong -- horribly wrong -- but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore? (18+)

Word Count: 20.8k

Warnings: Cheating, toxic relationship, angst, fluff, depictions of violence and gore in flashbacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, Protective!Price, vulgar language, porn with an incredible amount of plot

A/N: Literally just supposed to be smut practice and I turned it into a novel lmfao. I should be getting back to requests after this.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You slap a hand onto Soap’s bicep as you slide past the Scot, laughing loudly. The C-17 was still whirring behind you, the engines rumbling and shaking the air over your heads like great waves. Soap had asked you to go out with everyone for drinks at a local bar here in your city, not a moment prior. He was being quite persistent about it.

“Ah, c’mon, Little Lady,” The mohawked man grumbles, jogging to catch up to your fast form. Shit, you really needed a shower – your pores were packed with blood and dirt, “It’s just a few minutes from Base! We’ll all get steamin’ in no time.”

“Hell,” Your body aches, but there’s a promise of hot water and clean clothes in your Barracks, making your feet move over the tarmac faster. Showering after a tough deployment was better than sex, “I’d love to, man, but you know that Leon makes me homemade meals when I get back home. Sorry, but I hope I make up for it by saying I’d take a bar burger and a drink over his lasagna any day. That thing could kill a horse.”

Soap chuckles, eyes sparkling, and you send him an inquiring glance, “Price’ll be out with us.”

Your lips thin, the M13 strapped over your back suddenly ten times heavier and digging into your shoulder blades. Inside your chest, your heart sparks to life.

“MacTavish…” You warn, eyes narrowing at the stocky male, “Careful where your words go – I have a boyfriend. Plus, idiot, whatever it is your implying is insanely against workplace policy.”

“Yeah, but that boyfriend of yours treats you like shite.”

“Hey!” Yelling, your eyebrows turn in with a glare, finger pointing at his chest, “That was uncalled for, Asshat.”

Frowning, you watch Soap’s hand go scratch at the back of his head as his optics dart away, grumbling, “I don’t think it was if I’m being honest. Not exactly a prime choice in a partner you’ve got there.”

The two of you make it to the front doors of the Barracks building, and you huff in annoyance. You were quickly deciding that not even a shower would make you feel better if this conversation continued. It was bordering on too much for your tired brain, sinking needles into your heart and dripping poison.

Soap wasn’t lying, of course, your boyfriend was a piece of work and everyone knew it. Not only did Leon get pissed when you had to go on deployments – which you didn’t have control over – but he had also made a habit of being a bitch when you came back lately. There was never a chance to relax anymore, and what was worse was that it hadn’t always been like that. Part of you had tried to empathize with him because it was probably hard for someone's significant other to be away most of the time.

Like that gives him an excuse, You think, face heating with resentment as you remember the last argument Leon had dragged you into.

It was the day before your current deployment began nearly four months ago. Leon had gotten angry that you weren’t able to tell him where you were being shipped off to, and, like usual, had made the last day you saw him pure hell.

“Oh, so It’s my fault that I’m concerned?!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice bouncing off the ceiling, “I get it – I’m the problem for wanting you home and safe.”

“My job is important, Leon!” Attempting to keep your cool, you take deep breaths. Teeth nash against your bottom lip and rip it to pieces as you use the pain to call away from the tears stuck in the ducts of your eyes, “You’re acting like what I do doesn’t affect the world. I need to go, otherwise, bad people are–”

“Is that what you tell yourself? Fuck me, how goddamn stupid could you be?!”

Leon growls, sending you scathing glances as he begins to pace the living room.

“Now you’re just being rude,” You whisper, whipping at your cheeks and gathering teardrops on your sleeves, “You know I can’t control when John sends me out with him and 141! They’re my team!”

Mentioning your Captain was a mistake and you knew it just as John’s name came out of your mouth. Leon pauses – his body going very still.

“John,” He whispers, eyes lit with burning fire, “Since when have you started calling him by his first name?”

“Leon–” You tried to salvage the situation but it was already too late. Your boyfriend snarls out accusation after accusation.

“I knew it! You’re cheating on me–”

“No, I’m not!” Pleading with someone to listen can only get you so far, “We’re close because we're always together – just like with the rest of the boys!” Leon shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides and vibrating with rage. Loyalty meant so much to you, trying to imagine a world where you would physically go out and cheat on your boyfriend was like seeing a unicorn out on the street. Your feet take you closer to Leon as the tensions rise, “You’re not listening! Listen to me!”

“Why the hell should I listen to a fucking whore!?”

The memory leaves you tense, remembering for a moment the sound of a tossed lamp and the shattering that followed soon after as it hit the floor. It was silly, but that lamp that Leon had thrown in anger was a family heirloom; something immeasurably precious to you. It was the last object you had left from your Grandma. Now, the remains were probably stuffed in a garbage bag somewhere, but you wouldn’t know because you had left with your duffel bag and slept at Base. At the very least you could hope your Leon cut his fingers picking up the pieces of glass.

You had thought that everyone hadn’t noticed anything wrong, but had been catching concerned glances when you went into the cafeteria with thick bags under your eyes the next day; hair tangled and matted from your fingers.

Price had brought you outside, only pausing slightly before laying a heavy hand on your arm and squeezing. The man had bent slightly to look you in the eyes, head tilting so his hat blocked the sun from your eyes.

“Love?” His eyes had been warm, creased with concern around the edges – an emotion you never received from Leon. When you just stared at your Captain, he hummed in the back of his throat, “You alright down there?”

Before you could do anything you might regret, you shook off his grip and disappeared back into the cafeteria. You didn’t eat that day and the next you were off on deployment.

“--soon?”

You blink, noticing Soap had begun walking ahead of you, his gear clinking.

“What?” You ask dumbly, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

Soap smirks, looking at you strangely, “I said I’ll see ya soon…hopefully out with the rest of us tonight?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly with a grin and you force out a half-assed huff. Trying to mask the unease in your blood.

You had been gone four months instead of the intended three with Soap out in Russia on a Black Op, fighting back in a war that no one would ever hear of. Distinctly, you wondered if John was mad at you for how you acted toward him before you left.

“No promises, Suds,” Striding down the hallway you take the turn on the right leading to the women’s barracks, your back turned as Soap continues to subtly plead to you.

If you took the time to look into it, you would have realized that the man was concerned for you; his thought process was to keep you away from Leon for as long as he could so you might come to your senses.

“I’ll see you at 0900, then! Don’t keep everyone waiting, yeah? Been too long since you’ve been out with the rest of us!”

His voice falls away as you open the door to the joint female changing room and showers. Only when the hum of the air conditioning overhead blocks out everything else do you speak.

“You’re nothing if not persistent, MacTavish,” Putting your palms into your eyes, you press until you see stars and take a deep breath.

Filling your lungs you hold the air trapped and begin to count to five, letting the tension in your shoulders leave as you breathe out. The room was empty of anyone else, white-walled, and tiled floors with rows of metal lockers you needed a key to get into. Digging into your vest pocket, you produce the one you would need to enter yours.

It was the one in the middle of the room, with access to the emergency door in the back and a clear view of the front door as well. Some traits stick with you when you join one of the best forces on the planet.

Since you lived around here, everything you would need was already in the locker, including a gray shirt, baggy sweats, fresh undergarments – thank God – and spare boots. Your duffel bag of belongings was still on the C-17 and set to go through inspection before you could get it back.

Groaning and deading the inevitable stack of reports you would have to go through, plus the thoughts of what to do tonight, you sit on the rickety wooden bench and begin to take off strap after strap of your uniform.

“This is gonna be one hell of a problem, Isn’t it?” You mutter, body slouching with more and more fatigue as the seconds draw on.

Maybe I should just stay here, You wonder to yourself, Say the hell with it to both of them and have a girl's night in. Watching a sad movie and crying over a bucket of fucking ice cream sounds better than fighting with Leon or trying to ignore John.

Chucking off your combat vest, you clench your jaw in agitation. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why couldn’t you just break it off with your boyfriend and be done? It was obvious the love that was there before was gone…but you had known Leon since high school. You bite your lip. There were so many good memories.

John, as he usually does, weasels his way into your mind from the gaps.

You unlock your locker and slam the door open so that the hinges rattle back in anguish. Shucking off your M13 your shaking hands all but toss the attached strap on the hook inside as you try to force the brown-haired Brit from your consciousness. You can’t call it love or lust, but somewhere in the spaces between missions and spent bullets you had grown fond of him in a way you couldn’t describe. John. Your Captain.

As your knives and pistol are placed in the above cubie you run over hand over your face once more, pausing to breathe deeply before regaining motion. Putting your head on the locker’s cool metal corner, your eyes close tightly.

The Black Op with Soap had been hard. You had been trying to strangle every emotion down like the ball in your throat when the Scot brought up Price or Leon during muttered conversations.

“That’s why the Captain likes you so much, then!”

“The boy of yours is a pure dafty – why the hell would he say that to you?!”

“Price’ll have my head if you take another shot for me.”

“The two of you would make a fine looken’ couple, y’know. No missin’ the way he looks at you…Hey, now! I meant it as a compliment! Stop hitten’ me woman!”

You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why were you feeling like this? Leon was a dick sure, but you both had fond memories together – you’d known him for more than half of your life! When you thought of someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with it was always…

Your eyes harden as reality sets in.

John.

“Fuck!” Reeling backward, you curl your left fist and send it right into the locker beside your own.

Immediately a sparking of pain ripples down your limb like lighting, firing off nerves and heating the skin as blood rushes to the affected area. Hunching your shoulder’s in, you bite your tongue and tip your head down.

Your heart is hammering so hard you hear it echo through the room, bouncing off the tall ceiling – Knock-knock.

Blinking, you look up, staring in confusion into the depths of your locker before you realize that wasn’t your heart at all.

A distinctly male voice calls your name from behind the barrier, and suddenly you know why they weren’t coming in. Closing your eyes and sighing, you back up and stare at the door silently. The man calls your name again, accent muffled as knuckles rasp.

Someone’s knocking on the door…? Why would they do that? You wondered, It’s unlocked.

“I know you’re in there – the Sergeant told me where I could find you,” You could imagine the person you had just been thinking about nodding as he always does during conversations; dark eyebrows animated, “ We need to have a word before you clean up, yeah?”

“Price?” You ask, face tightening as you recognize the speech pattern before he even finishes talking. Could you really not get a moment's peace around here? Shaking out your hand, which was bleeding by the knuckles and leaves droplets on the floor, you stutter out, “W-what are you doing in the girl’s barracks?”

Your heart was already running faster than it had a moment ago. You didn’t want to talk to him right now.

The Captain sighs behind the door, and under the crack you see a shadow shuffle from one foot to the other. His voice lowers, losing that formal tone for a second. Your body reacts even as you tell it not to, and your breath gets shallow and your pupils are blown wide. “Would you open the door so I can talk to you, please, Love? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Sucking down a breath your large muscle palpitates heavily behind your ribcage. Did you really have a choice?

John, separated from you but still sensing your hesitation, feels his eyes narrow. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your last interaction before you left; the way your eyes were red-rimmed and dull. It had weighed on him more than he liked to admit for those few months, and it wasn’t like he could call to check-in.

Black Ops meant no contact, and your safety was always his priority before anything else. He waited. So when Soap had knocked on John’s office door, the two of you back at Base unannounced, and had looked at him with creased eyes he had known immediately something was wrong.

For a moment, his heart had stopped, thinking you were injured. But Johnny’s next words stopped him.

“The girl’s been acting strange, Price. I can’t find any sense behind it – been that way damn near ever since we shipped out. Little Lady’s worrying me. She’s not right and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Maybe this was a mistake, John thinks, eyes narrowing as he itches at his beard, forcing the heated image in his mind away like it burned him. He didn’t know what he felt about you, but the knowledge that you had a boyfriend didn’t sway his sense of loyalty. Even if being around you made his chest tighten and his thoughts run.

If you were in the right headspace the door would have already been open. But then again you were in the locker room. The Captain’s head jerks back, trying not to imagine you naked just behind a thin barrier as his chest sucks in a sharp breath.

It wasn’t his place to think of such things. To imagine you beautifully naked, laying under him and gasping out his name was…it was immoral. You deserve better than that. But damn it if the thought didn’t make his pants tighten.

A shadow moves under the door and Price straightens his spine, taking a step back before bringing his attention back to the present. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly.

Your hand lays on the door knob stiffly, shirt already untucked and boots unlaced. You probably looked a mess, you thought to yourself, sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth with nerves. Freezing, your heart skips a beat.

Why did you care?

Growling under your breath, you swing the door open and plaster a smile over your bitten-to-hell lips that wouldn’t convince a blind man.

“Sir,” You say, body coiled as your eyes trail your Captain’s figure.

John Price was the same man you remembered. Tall and fit, wearing an army green long-sleeved athletic shirt and cargo pants tucked into boots mirroring your own. Watching his muscles writhe, he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head – where the old bucket hat sits covering his shorter brown locks.

The hallway lights were doing wonders for his complexion.

“Do…you need something, Price?” Maybe if you didn’t look at him your head wouldn’t get fuzzy?

Your eyes shifted up and down the hallways as if you were doing something illegal, listening to his breath and the rattle of his throat as he made a sound.

If people saw the two of you rumors would start; you could almost hear them now.

“Did you see her talking to Captain Price outside the locker room?!”

“Lord, doesn’t she have a boyfriend here in the city? I feel bad for him...She’ll start one hell of an internal investigation.”

“No loyalty at all. I bet she likes sneaking around. Hey, do you think she’s sleeping with him?! Holy fuck I bet she is!”

“--Love? Hey, hey, Love, look at me, would you?” You blink back to reality, clearing your throat and tensing as a hand levels on your shoulder.

Staring at John’s chest, you shake your head.

“Sorry, Sir, just tired,” You attempt a chuckle but it sounds like a balloon deflating, “Long mission, you know?”

Your eyes are boring holes in John’s chest, not willing to move anywhere else as your face begins to burn. His hand was so firm, warm, how would it feel when it was digging into the flesh of your thighs? Your waist? Would he be rough like the calluses on his hands would imply? Or would he handle you delicately like his guns, flicking over the safety and caressing the cool metal?

Shut the fuck up!

A moment passes before you notice your Captain hadn’t responded to you. Frowning, you throw him a quick glance and see him intently looking at your clenched, shaking, left hand. His blue eyes are dark, lips frozen in a thin line that has your lungs shriveling and a shiver running down your spine. You try not to follow the tensing of his lower abdominal muscles or the shifting of his large hips as his feet move.

Stop it, You plead with yourself, Please just stop. This isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?

That was the moment you noticed the blood dripping down your fingers, flooding from split knuckles and dotting the floor in red. Widening your eyes, you snap the hand behind your back in panic, clothes rustling.

“Uh,” You fumble, pulse so loud you can hear it in your ear as sweat slicks the back of your neck. Stuttering, you can’t find the words to continue before John speaks.

“Tell me,” He orders, voice so baritone and raspy you feel it rattle in your stomach; at that moment it’s not John you’re speaking to – it’s your Captain. You move out of his hold but he takes a step forward anyways, “Now.”

Freezing, you gape like a fish, mouth moving but no words come out to grace the man’s ears. John’s heart is pounding, snapping from the hidden hand to your eyes that lack the spark they usually had. He hadn’t seen that bit of light in your eyes for a long time and ached to find out why. What had happened? Why were you avoiding him? You usually went straight to his office after you got back from being separated from him – even if you were full of blood and dirt with bags lining your eyes.

John’s hands clench, jaw following suit.

You sigh shakily, swallow down saliva, and try not to throw up.

“I-I…” Moving your head, your fingers shake. How could you explain your situation? Tell your Captain – who you have complicated feelings for – that you wanted to end things with Leon because of him? Fuck, do you tell him how shitty your boyfriend’s been? That wasn’t his business and certainly not his problem. It was better if you held your tongue and suffered, a part of you knew, because the infection of misplaced guilt was wrapped around your heart like thorns.

John would think less of you for staying with Leon for this long; probably put you on leave to figure it out yourself.

No, You try to tell yourself, He wouldn’t do that – this is John we’re talking about. He’s kind to me and, if anything, he’d be just as pissed as I am about it.

That you knew was true. John would go to war to make sure you were alright; he had.

The man was silently standing, patient with you even as the telltale sign of concern and muted irritation were painted on his face. John had always been a gentleman – holding doors open for you, letting you sleep in when the nightmares got to you and left you huddled in a corner for hours. He had found your favorite candy on an Op in Italy and bought you some for fucks sake!

But nothing made sense anymore and everything felt like it was at a breaking point. You liked Price – and hated Leon – and that fact nearly sent you spiraling into hysterics. You had been with your boyfriend for so long; he had been everything to you.

Leon had helped you get through deaths in your family, and before the fighting started, ordered you flowers when you came back from deployments; Leon cooked and cleaned without you having to ask. He knew your life story possibly better than you did, and you knew his.

Your entire life was spent with him. Who were you if all of it suddenly ended? Years of your life thrown away for nothing.

If there was one thing that everyone on Base knew besides that your boyfriend was a bitch, it was that you hated change more than anything. Ironic, considering the profession you were in.

You just needed silence – space to breathe without getting suffocated. But maybe what you really wanted was for John to fucking hug you. To feel his bear arms wrap around you and squeeze the stubborn tears out of your eyes as you sob. When was the last time you actually cried, anyways? John would make it better; hold you like he cared about you. Like how he had in Madagascar when a bullet got lodged in your side. You swore you saw him cry that day, beautiful blues shiny as your blood pooled out of his heavy, adrenaline-shaking, fingers. The body of the man who jumped you both lay dead and filled with more metal than a construction zone not a few feet away, gurgling.

That man was supposed to be the target – Hubert Antonin – and you were both supposed to bring him in alive; you never got execute authority.

But Price had unloaded the clip on him right as you cried out in pain.

“Stay with me, Princess, c’mon. Keep your eyes open for me…Look at me, Love. Hey, I promised I’d get ya’ back safe. Don’t make me lie, now, yeah?”

A weak, velvety, chuckle meets the humid air. It was startling, watching him lose his composure like that.

“It b-burns, John. I…I can’t–”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. I’ll get you fixed up and good to go soon, Copy? Just like new,” His wild eyes snapped back and forth as your eyesight gets blurry, lids flickering like a candle’s flame, “Where the fucken’ hell is Evac?!... No, no, no…What did I just tell you – Keep those eyes open, Muppet!”

When you were stable in the Med Ward of the local Base, the man had brought you to his chest, letting you feel the rampaging of his heart and the uneven breaths on the top of your head. His hands tightened over you, fingers brushing up and down over your arms. Like he was worshiping you just for living. For being there.

“Attagirl. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?”

As you recovered, he never let you out of his sight.

If you thought about it too hard, that was perhaps the first instance when you knew something was very wrong with you for liking the feeling of his skin touching yours. His body heat melting into you in such a tight embrace it left you crying into his chest in thankfulness. You had never felt that when hugging Leon – Leon hated hugs to the point you had to beg him to hold you.

But thinking about that was just another pipedream. Nothing about John Price and yourself would ever come to light as being anything more than partners on the Task Force.

He was your Captain. You were working under him.

You had a boyfriend. John had a valuable asset.

But you really wanted him to be yours. And, never mind how Price felt about you and if it was the same twisted form of disloyalty or lust, you still hated yourself for it. For feeling so deeply.

“No,” You respond blankly to John’s request for an explanation of…everything, but can’t look into his eyes to see the shock that sparks.

John's shoulders tense, jaw going slack. He gains his senses, but it’s already too late.

Jerking back into the locker room, you slam it shut behind you and snap the lock in place, feeling the quivering of your lips as the first sob builds.

Your skin was dirty and layered with grime, hair matted, and gear in need of deep cleaning. But that feeling you carried didn’t change even as you took a shower, wiping away everything down a drain with red-tinged water as a shadow hesitated for a long moment before confidently moving away from the front door.

You still felt disgusting.

—

Nothing you did made sense to him.

John was walking away from the locker room with measured steps, head pounding. People passed by and gave him strange looks, but his eyes were dead ahead, glaring at everything and nothing at the same time. This wasn’t like you at all.

She’s been acting strange for months, why haven’t I bloody checked in sooner? Your actions reminded him of a ghost – walking around the halls at night and steadily dimming. The whole team had seen it; how there was a weight eating at you. Price and the others had tried to get you to talk to no avail.

I need to do something about this, He tells himself as a thought worms its way into his brain.

Could she be angry at me? Now that he thought about it, every time he was near you trying to engage in a conversation you froze and made some excuse to not speak. And with how you looked at him before you slammed the door in his face…John had stayed shell-shocked behind the barrier with half a mind to rush in and demand you tell him what was wrong.

But he knew that would only make it worse.

“She needs time to cool off,” He mutters under his breath, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and holding his head for a moment, “Get her head on straight.”

But what if you never chose to seek him out after the fact? Could he handle that?

Why do I want her to come to me when she’s hurting? He wonders with a clenched jaw.

Taking a corner and leaving the Women’s Barracks, John sighs as he walks on. His feelings were getting in the way again – his feelings about you that he had tried to choke down like whisky. Ironic, that it left the same burning sensation in his neck. There was only so much he could do about them, truth be told, because everything about you made the Captain want to disregard every order he’s given.

It wasn’t right, it was the definition of wrong in both of your lines of work, but this was the one situation he didn’t know how to fix. So he kept silent.

You had a boyfriend, and that was enough to stay his tongue and keep him watching from a distance.

John made it back to his office quickly and quietly, but would soon find that trying to get reports done was impossible. When his pen would hit the paper his mind would blank, and many times he would have to re-read the contents over and over to retain anything.

“Fuck,” He breathes out, baring his teeth and leaning back in his chair.

The most he could do was sit there and wait until tonight; hoping that the bar that Soap was bringing the Task Force to had good Whisky.

Try as he might, he knows getting drunk would only make him think of you more.

—

The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a sheen of rain making the sky dark. Under you, the fake leather seats are cold, leaving you shivering even as you were wrapped in a thick sweatshirt and your spare cargo pants. Gripping the wheel tighter as the quiet road went on and on ahead of you, the street lamps shine on the old sidewalks corralling you in.

You had made the tough decision to surprise Leon when you got home.

Lips thinning, all you can hope is that the stewing anger that had been left behind had calmed and not worsened. But Leon held grudges, and, unfortunately, so did you. Your Grandma’s lamp still made your heart ache if you thought about it too much; left bitter tears and a bare esophagus behind.

He had stepped over a big line – one you weren’t sure you could forgive him for. Sighing and shaking your head, you watch the dark road as the chilled cloud of condensation is expelled from your mouth. It seems you had forgotten to turn the heat on too.

Taking a turn, you pull the vehicle to a slow stop as its brakes squeal. Months of sitting in the Base’s underground garage would do that to you, but you still grimace at the noise that makes your face tense. Maybe Ghost would fix up your car like last time so you wouldn’t have to fork over a fortune at the dealership downtown.

You can’t hide the small smile that comes at the idea. Simon pretended to be such a grump all the time, but he had his moments.

Coming to a full stop, you turn the car to park and look outside through the deluge.

“At least that hasn’t changed,” You utter, breath fogging the window as lashes of rainwater race down the glass, “It still looks as perfect as ever.”

The house was brightly lit, painted white, and had a large Oak door in the center. In the front, there was a black iron fence with a small gate and a latch. Looking, a prickly sensation enters your body and your fingers twitch over the wheel inexplicably. Your eyes run from one window to the other, all with warm light streaming out from behind the curtains, and furrow. With one hand you go to itch at your nose.

Why were all the lights on anyways? It’s like ten at night…Not the point, I’m stalling.

“Just go and speak to him,” You mutter to yourself, nodding firmly. But your lungs contracted in your ribcage in blatant retaliation.

You wished playing therapist with yourself was easier.

Turning off the car and stuffing the keys in your pants pocket, you unclipped your seatbelt and turned to grab your small carry bag. Since the Base was so close there was really no need to bring your duffel bag. You’d be back there tomorrow for de-briefings with Price anyways; writing out papers and sighing confidentiality documents until your eyes bled. Would John bring you tea this time to help you stay awake? Or would he give you that look that meant – ‘Go to sleep right now, or do I have to order you to your bed?’

John would give in occasionally, and sit with you as you worked. He would read, or, you would take a break and play trivia with him; sometimes you asked him to tell stories. You really liked his stories.

On even rarer cases, when the contents of the report brought up bad memories that left your face blank, he would tell you one of his tales unprompted. Usually, after that warm and selfless event, you would wake up back in your bed without the knowledge of ever falling asleep at all. But there would always be a note. Handwritten on your nightstand.

John Price hand wrote you notes on crappy lined paper with his chicken scratch lettering. You remembered blushing every time you got one and had your favorite memorized word for word. It had meant so much to get one, Leon never wrote letters.

“Guess my stories are more boring than I knew, Love, you passed out nearly immediately into the first one. Do me a favor, yeah, and sleep in today? Don’t worry about morning drills. I’ve already dismissed you. Sleep tight.

– John”

Clenching your jaw, you shake your head and close your eyes. Thinking about seeing him tomorrow makes you sick.

More opportunities to make a fool of myself and cause him to hate me. God, I fucking slammed a door in his face because I couldn’t get a grip. What’s wrong with me? He doesn’t deserve that.

You can’t keep living like this anymore, you try to tell yourself as you dig through your bag. Grabbing your phone, you’re about to shove it in your pocket beside the keys when it lights up, showcasing the wallpaper of you and the boys on a past Op from years ago.

Everyone had their full gear on, weapons around fronts, and armed to the teeth. Full of blood and other substances.

It was your favorite picture and you even had it printed out on your nightstand at Base.

John had his arm over your shoulder, staring at you softly with his head covered by his hat – which had burn marks on it – as you pointed a finger into Gaz’s smug, smile-split, face. Soap’s laughing and holding his stomach as Ghost at his side has a hand to his masked face in exasperation.

You blink in surprise at the text message from your Sergeant as it pops up.

“Soap’s texting me?” Your mind wonders, and you roll your eyes, “I already said I wasn’t going out.” Not looking and turning your phone off, you shove it in your pocket but can’t hide the small sense of annoyance, “I spent four months with the guy in Russia, sorry, but I need a break from him before my brain explodes.”

Opening the car door, you flinch as rain batters your head and stains your clothes, but you just swing your bag over your shoulder and slam it shut behind you. Locking it with the fob, you make your way quickly to the front door, slipping past the metal gate without mishap and jogging over the lawn to the two front steps. Scaling them, you stand under the portico and look behind you, gazing up and down the street. You watch for a moment the family who lives across the street – they were watching a movie in the living room, huddled on the couch.

Jerking your head back, you take out your house key and insert it into the lock with a grim face. Twisting, your skin shivers once more as a bout of wind shakes your baggy clothes just as you hear the familiar click of the front door unlocking.

But that damn lamp. Grandma’s lamp. And John’s blue eyes filled with concern for you. His hands.

When had this place stopped being home for you?

“Just speak to him,” You repeat a second time, gripping the doorknob, “Get it over with like an adult and forgive each other…”

You clench your jaw and wrench the door open, shaking your head to dispel the water weighing the locks down like a wet dog. Stepping inside with heavy feet, you close the door quietly behind you and lock it.

“Leon…?” You wonder out loud, slipping your gaze from the empty couch to the blaring TV as you slip off your boots. Muttering under your breath you add, “Where are you?”

“--And in more local news, the grand opening of the downtown café “Four Horseman” has wracked in a whopping profit of–”

Your fingers flicked off the news, the woman’s voice suddenly halting from the speakers. Frowning, your ears twitch.

What’s that noise?

“Oh, Leon!” Freezing, your legs tense, hands at your sides gradually tightening into fists. Blinking in surprise, your heart begins to pump adrenaline through your veins with the efficiency of a racehorse. You don’t know that voice, “Just like that!”

But you weren’t stupid.

A certain type of dread infects your brain that leaves your mouth opening in shock; eyebrows peeling back to travel up your forehead. Before you tell yourself that it was better just to leave the house now, while your mind is unbroken, you can’t stop your already moving feet.

You barrel down the hallway to get to the master bedroom, where you shove on the already partially open barrier with a heavy slam. Rage burns in your gut, spreading like a disease into the thin tissue and bleeding out; proliferating with relentless reach.

Leon was over a random girl in your bed, half-naked and pants already being dragged down his hips by feminine legs. The woman was already bare, perfect skin glowing in the low light of red candles.

Your rage freezes with a layer of thin ice, and your heart hammers. Sweat gathers in your clenched palms as the stranger’s scream enters the room. Both were already watching you in horror. Leon halts his actions of being knuckle-deep in the girl – the woman had seen you and snapped her hands to the ruined sheets of your bed to try and cover herself with a desperate scream.

“Leon?!” She yells out, face becoming bright as the scent of expensive perfume makes your nose twitch, “Who the fuck is that?!”

Blankly, you turn your head to look at your boyfriend – former boyfriend.

“Yeah, Leon,” You’re surprised by the firmness of your voice, the dead tone hurled out with no remorse. It betrays how you really feel. Tears burn the backs of your eyes, and your lungs hurt when you suck in quiet breaths to help your composure, “Do you wanna explain who I am? Or just how you’re fucking another woman on our bed.”

Leon’s eyes are comically wide, mouth agape and fluttering. Cruel satisfaction brews in your heart as your lips flicker into a dark smirk; anger was better than tears, you decided.

“Our bed?! You said you were single!” The woman gasps, snapping her head to the man still above her, “Get the hell off me!”

Shoving Leon, you watch the girl scramble to grab her clothes all over the floor as she apologizes to you.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that he had–”

“Just get out, please,” You mutter under your breath, and the lady zips past with her shirt only half on and her bra hooked between her fingers.

“Baby,” Leon looks like he’s about to cry, getting to his knees on the mattress and you catch a glimpse of his boxers with cows printed on them.

Before you had found those enduring – maybe even cute in a dorkish sort of way – but now you realized it was just pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t what it looks like!” His fingers are glistening, and his pants are stained.

You blankly stare at the stranger who inhabits your ex’s body and say nothing back; watching as Leon scrambles for an explanation that changes nothing. There was an absence of anything you loved in this house.

“Hope it was worth it,” Blankly speaking, you turn around and leave, feet slamming into the floor as Leon calls to you pleadingly.

“Please! I didn’t–” His voice cuts out as a thump echoes over the home, like someone falling out of a bed before a yelp takes its place. Not slowing, you slip your boots on and unlock the front door.

Just as fast footsteps rush to the foyer you slam the door behind your back and descend the steps, no longer caring about the rain as you walk in a trance-like state. It hadn’t really hit you yet what had happened, but it was starting too.

Your breath was getting thinner, hands shaking as your shoulders hunched and waterfalls down your face and neck. The bag over your shoulder is now ten times heavier than it was before.

The door slams open just as you exit the black-iron gate and unlock your car.

“Babe, come back inside, let's talk about this!” Leon screams, and his bare feet seem to slap over the drowned lawn, “You just need to sit down and I’ll speak and explain why I’ve been sleeping with Maxine!”

Your hand freezes on the car handle, slick metal stuck under your grip.

You whirl around with fire in your eyes, lips snarling.

“Sleeping!?” With your face contouring, your loud voice carries over the storm as Leon – who had gotten quite close by now – reels back a step, “As in this has happened before, you goddamn prick?! How long have you been cheating on me while I’ve been risking my fucking life to get back home to you?!”

Leon’s face twists as you look him in the eyes, nose scrunching.

“Oh, don’t stay on your high horse,” He growls, hands animating his words as you try and keep your cool, “We both know you’ve been cheating far longer than I have.”

“Do we?!” It’s past the point of sense now, and the other lights from the once-dark houses begin flickering their outside lights on from all the noise, “I’ve never fucked anyone while I was out, Leon. You can’t say that, can you?!”

“You don’t need someone to stick their dick in you to cheat. You’re just as bad as me – John Price must be one helluva guy to ruin a relationship that started when we were teenagers.”

Your breath stutters, and after a moment of shocked silence you shake your head in disbelief, “You’re a bastard, Leon…I wish I’d never met you. Wish I’d never wasted my time with a pathetic man like you. Maybe John is one helluva guy, hm? Maybe I’ll have to tell him that myself.”

Leon’s eyes were red, and his lips, just like yours, quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. You turn around before you can sob and reach for the door once more.

A heavy weight settled on your arm, your Ex’s fingers suddenly squeezing your skin so hard your lips let loose a muted gasp. Trying to rip your arm away, you tilt your head to look back at Leon.

“Let go of me,” You say the words slowly, feeling rainwater travel down the bridge of your nose and splash to your shoulder, “Now.”

Leon’s hand only tightens, and you hiss, feeling blood vessels pop under the pressure.

“You’re coming back inside and you’re going to listen to what I tell you,” Leon leans closer, eyes dark, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an–”

Your fist connects with his cheek, and a second later you’re nursing your sensitive knuckles, shaking out your hand and grimacing. Whining reminiscent of a wounded duck rips over the night, and, gripping at his face, Leon lays on the ground half-naked and less of a man than he’d ever been – which was an achievement, to say the least.

You should have broken up with him years ago. John would never treat you like this.

Getting into your car, you sit down and lock the doors behind you as you insert the key, twisting and feeling it jerking to life. With morbid curiosity, you turn to the opposite window and look at the house across the street.

The family was at the window, no longer enraptured by their TV, and the mother had a hand over her mouth. She was in the process of turning her children away from the scene as the other parent stood watching, slack-jawed.

Blinking, you don’t know if it’s tears or rain that you’re forcing away from your eyes, but the burning tells you which option you should put your money on. Wiping at your face and sucking down shuddering breaths, you press on the pedal and peel away from the white house with a large Oak door. Taking a peak at the mirror, you spy a man trying to get back to his feet but stumbles, falling once more and slamming into a puddle.

Driving, you only make it to the next street before you park on the side of the road, your whole body shaking and gasping for breath. With the adrenaline dying down, the pain in your arm becomes prominent, making pain spark as you shift it. The area would most likely bruise.

Your lips twist and a small whimper leaves your mouth. You smack your forehead to the wheel, hands falling like lead to your lap as a sniffle weasels its way out; tears begin to smack your thighs, gradually increasing until you were concerned your car would flood.

Crying was never your thing. With all the sights you’d seen, tears felt so small compared to every other horror – they meant nothing in the grand scheme of events taking place. All they were good at was making your nose run and your skin get hot.

John’s seen me cry before, Your thoughts are running so fast it’s a strange circumstance that they stop when your Captain’s name is filtered through.

Price had found you in the bathroom, covered in dried blood and shaking just as you were in the present. There had been an accident on the recent Op – a kid had gotten caught in the crossfire and had taken a bullet to the stomach. You had held him as he died; seen the light in his eyes leave in one fell swoop as you drowned in his blood trying to stop the bleeding.

That was what led up to you rushing off the Helo, finding the first bathroom on Base, and rushing inside to throw your guts up. John, of course, had followed close at your heels with fast feet.

“Love,” He said from outside the door slowly, “I’m coming in.”

Shell-shocked, your hands were strained as you gripped the sides of the toilet, not even picking up on the concern leaking from his tone. Wide-eyed, you stare blankly at the vile contents inside the bowl – throat burning with acid as the image of that dying kid plays on repeat.

The door opens hesitantly as if any major noise would break you, the hinges squeaking. A pair of feet carefully pad over the tile towards your hunched figure. When his hand slides over your back, his shadow comes to encompass you, shrouding you in its comforting darkness. He made it better.

John’s grip slides back and forth over the gear and other objects along your figure. You hadn’t bothered to take anything off, in fact, your gun was still strapped around your chest and weighing you down. It hit against the toilet with a ‘clink’ every time you moved.

“Sweetheart?” John mutters, body curling around yours.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You say the words numbly as you glance at the blood on your hands with muted horror, “I…I…He should have been with the other civilians. He wasn’t…”

“I know,” Price whispers, grunting, watching you as your mind breaks to try and think through this, “I know, Love.”

When he knows your stomach has settled, you feel him carefully grab your shoulders and lean you back against the opposite wall. It was like a ramshackle hug, but the feeling of his body pressing into yours made you fall limp. You were safe here. Protected. His fingers go to your weapon, taking it off of you and setting it on the ground as he knees at your side. Soon after goes the combat vest, John pulling at the velcro with confidence. Your body jerks as he peels it off.

“Lift your arms for me, yeah?” Doing as he says, the article is set by your gun and pushed aside, “Attagirl, just like that.”

The man keeps a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth. He was closer than he needed to be, but that was alright.

Looking down, your thousand-yard stare locks to the blood staining your skin, getting stuck in the grooves and the beds of your nails. Would water even wash it off? You had wondered in silent panic. What if it never came off? John’s other hand gravitates to your cheek and the increased sound of your breath is accented by a sharp inhale.

Blinking to push back the nothingness of your gaze, tears dribble from your tear ducts as your eyes lock with his.

John looked so sad.

His expression was pained, lips downturned and eyes painfully narrowed on your form; his eyebrows were pressed in on his forehead, curing in the center and creating creases over his flesh. The beard – still filled with dirt and grime – moved as his lips did.

“Focus on me, alright?” You nod, shakily, and watch his optics flick from one part of your face to another, “That wasn’t your fault.”

“John,” You whimper, the dam breaking every moment his fingers move and caress your skin. His grip travels to the back of your neck and brings your face to his shoulder, letting you sag into him on a dirty bathroom floor.

“It’s okay,” He mutters into your hair, lips moving as your hands snap to dig into his vest. His hat was pressing into your scalp – grounding you in the present just as his heartbeat was. The muscle was strong in his chest, pounding, “It’s all gonna be alright, Kid. I need you to know it wasn’t your fault,” John sighs, trying to draw you closer, “You did the best you could. I’m proud of you.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be there,” You sob, and repeat the sentence once more, like, if you did, whatever God out there would bring the boy back to life. Your lips pull back in pain, wails exiting.

“I know,” John responded, voice so low your sounds of anguish almost covered it up. His grip tightens, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head.

You knew, then, that John would give anything to take away your pain. But what he didn’t know was that you would replay his words in your mind to stave off the nightmares – use the image of his face to bring you stability when you woke up mid panic attack.

It was the only time you didn’t hate crying, because John’s warmth had made it better. Had made it mean something.

You both spend a long time on that bathroom floor.

When you had spent at least an hour collecting your thoughts in that frigid car, you finally checked your phone.

Fifty-seven missed calls and thirty-five texts from Leon. Chuckling humorlessly and shaking your head in disbelief, you block him with a quick tap; it was over. You’re about to chuck the phone and go back to Base, but then you pause, eyes locking on a single text notification left on the screen.

Soap: If ya change your mind….’Bottom’s Up Bar’… ;)

He lists the address just below, and your eyes bore into it.

“Fuck it,” Your hoarse voice echoes out in the cool car air, “I need a drink anyways.”

—

Price sits on the bar stool in a black woolen trench coat and a dark beanie, nursing a glass of whisky in his hands that rests against the counter.

“What’s with the long face, Captain,” Gaz sits at his side, the stools under them uncomfortable and threatening to give out from under them if one happens to take too deep a breath. Soap and Ghost are over playing pool, and the TV behind the counter was showing reruns of some hockey game that was absent of watchers. No one else was there beside them, “Whisky not up to par?”

“It tastes like piss water,” John mutters but still brings the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, “But I’ve had worse, Sergeant. You?”

Gaz smirks, “I’ve had worse…Just tell Soap that I’m never letting him pick the bar ever again. Man’s bloody taste buds must be burned off if he calls this quality.”

John grunts, tilting his head to the side in an affirmative nod.

The area lapses into silence, the sound of billiard balls connecting to a cue stick loud as the smell of tobacco and cheap beer perforated the air. There weren’t any civvies left in the old-style building, and outside the rainstorm pounded against the front windows deterring anyone from venturing outside. The group probably should have stayed on Base, but Johnny had been insistent to the point everyone just gave in to the Scot’s demands.

After all, what harm could one drink do? They were all tired.

“Do you think she’ll show?” Gaz asks as the TV erupts with cheers; someone had scored, apparently. The Captain was never one for hockey – Liverpool was his go-to for football teams, and that was about it. In fact, he had a game to catch up on later if he could get the hell out of here in a timely fashion.

Gaz’s question makes the man lightly startle, sliding his gaze to his Sergeant with a sharply raised brow. He brings the glass to his lips once more and takes a swig, missing out on the burn that was found in his own Whisky stash back at his flat in London. It’s not hard to tell who Gaz is talking about.

“Unlikely,” John speaks through a sigh, going back to mindlessly watching the television as the bartender filters past to clean a table in the far corner. Soap cheers from the pool table, “Her…boyfriend’s making her dinner. Always does when she gets back.”

“Hm,” Gaz chuffs, “Lucky sod,” The Sergeant pauses, and John takes a deep breath at the mischievous tone the man beside him earns. It was too late at night for this bullshit, “I bet you wouldn’t mind having the girl in your home while you make her supper, eh, Cap?”

“Garrick,” Price says the last name slowly, fingers tightening over the cup on the table, “You want to be on sanitation duty for a month – two?”

“...Sir?” Letting out a nervous chuckle, Gaz sends a quick glance to Soap whose ears had quirked at the conversation a few feet away.

“Then I suggest you stop acting like a Muppet and mind your damn business. The girl is her own woman and deserves her privacy,” John sends a narrowed glance with a quirked eyebrow and a warning in his suddenly darker eyes, “Copy?”

“Copy, Sir…Apologies.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” John levels, twirling his glass in his large fingers before tossing back the last remnants inside. Swallowing, he stands and fixes the position of his beanie, feeling his bones creak with fatigue.

To everyone at the bar, Price looked annoyed that you had been brought up, but those who knew him best could tell that much more was going on. The man had kept the side of his eye on the front door the entire time 141 had been at the bar, shoe tapping against the dark wood floors as hours passed. Even more telling, Gaz had noticed that John had only had one glass of Whisky tonight – even if it tasted horrible the Captain was bound to drink at least three when they all went out.

It was tradition; everyone knew it. Captain Price of the 141 always had three glasses. Always. You would attest to that, considering that when you tagged along you made fun of him for it.

“You always have three glasses – I’ve never, for the life of me, figured out why it's always three! Do you never think ‘Oh, gee golly, maybe I’ll bloody have another lad, be a merry good Muppet and pour me another, yeah?’’

Your horrendously exaggerated British accent led to a few snickers that night, and Gaz had seen his Captain’s full body laugh for the first time; watching John sputtering as he coughed down the drink he had been sipping from.

“Love,” The man had stared at you with a deep smile, eyes crinkling, “Whatever just came out of your mouth, yeah? Never do that in my presence again. Accent’s shaken’ more than your hands when you have to stitch me up.”

“My stitches aren’t that bad, Asshat! You just move too fucken’ much!”

John scratches his forehead in the present and brushes off his jacket.

“Alright, Muppets…I think that’s it for the–”

The bell at the front door jingles.

Snapping his head over, Price freezes just as he sticks his hands in his jeans pockets, the grumbled words dying on his parted lips.

A figure was standing at the entrance, soaked to the bone and shivering like a sphinx cat in a snowstorm; water dripped from her nose to the rug. John’s jaw slightly slackens, eyes wide and snapping back and forth.

You were standing there, eyes gravitating from Soap and Ghost’s pool game – which had halted immediately at your sudden presence – until you blink a raindrop from your eyelashes and lock eyes with John.

“Sorry I’m late,” Your voice sounds like gravel, Price notes, head slowly tilting to try and understand why His legs had to tense to stop him from rushing over, his training alerting him to the redness of your eyes. You had been crying, why? “Storm’s coming down pretty hard, huh?” Attempting a chuckle, it seems to fall flat.

“Holy shit, Love,” Gaz mutters, snatching a rag from behind the counter of the bar and ignoring the complaints from the worker. He rushes past John, who continues to stare at you and fight his own subconscious, “Did you walk here?”

The Sergeant blinks at you in concern, eyes filtering up and down your body as he stands close and holds aloft the fabric.

“Nah,” Price watched you snatch the towel, going to pat it on your face and neck – running it over your hair and gripping, “Was outside for a little bit, but I came in the car…Oh, speaking of that, Simon,” You turn to the large man who bores his eyes into your face, “The brakes are acting up again – you think you could fix it up back on Base in your free time?”

Ghost taps the cue stick against the ground, lips behind his balaclava shifting as he speaks, “You goin’ to make me fix it up every time you get back? What do I look like, Bird? A mechanic?”

A weak smirk flickers over your lips, but John notices a particular bleakness in your eyes. Soap, who thus far had been strangely quiet, looks at him with flat lips and a small shake of his mohawked head.

Enough is enough, Price decides with a stubble tilt of his forehead, I’ve given her the space she needs – she’s telling me everything. Tonight.

His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets just to cross them over his chest when you respond to Simon.

“I’ll clean your clothes for a month.”

“...Two.”

“Deal,” Nodding, you smile at Gaz in thanks and splay the towel over the banister beside you to help it dry, “Thanks, Gaz.”

“What happened to dinner with the Stoter?” Soap finally speaks as you make your way farther into the building. You send him a quick glance as you walk closer to John at the booth. The Scot levels you with a heavy stare, feet shoulder-length apart and jaw clicking, “He do something?”

A tense silence falls, and all the men send each other looks as you slink to the bar, jumping up on a stool and clearing your throat. You itch at the side of your bicep as you lick your lips in hesitation.

Why were you not saying anything?

John buries his fingernails into the meat of his arms, taking your lack of answer like a knife to the chest. It was like a switch had flipped as he saw your expression drop for a millisecond, layers cracking like you were barely held together. The veins in the Captain’s arms were flooded with blood, and his hands showed white knuckles.

There was a terrible reality settling behind his eyelids, and the man wasn’t in his job position because he was anything less than an observer. He was angry, that much was obvious by his tight jaw and dangerous eyes on the side of your face.

But there was something more important than revenge, and she was sitting right in front of him.

Your clothes are still dripping with water, and without hesitating when he spies you shiver, John shakes off his jacket and spreads it softly over your shoulders. When you jerk back in surprise he feels a part of him break, but steadies you with a thin quirk of his lips and pulls the front of the woolen material farther over your form.

What’s that fucken’ prat done to her? He growls internally, Mark my words…

The Captain’s eyes carefully narrow, orbs sliding over your face. His thumb goes to swipe a tear of water from your hairline and breathes out a sigh when your eyelids flutter.

Looking at your Captain with vulnerable eyes, you answer Soap’s question with a muttered, defeated, tone. It was like you were talking to your superior and not the man at the pool table.

“We...uh, I, broke up with him,” A moment of silence. Two.

John feels like he’s frozen in time, his body stiff, and his lungs shell-shocked. But in the farthest, most forced-down bits of his consciousness, he thinks there’s a part of him that’s…Christ, is he happy?

He nearly has to turn and leave to take a breather – gain his composure at his own disgusting thoughts – but your eyes hold him captive, unblinking despite the revelation.

You had…broken up with Leon. Your boyfriend.

John’s eyes slowly widen.

Oh.

—

“Well, It’s about damn time,” Soap interjects into the moment, gleeful, and you feel your eyes slip away from the cerulean blues of John’s widened sockets, in favor of the table-top, “Erm, no offense, of course, but that’s great news!”

“Shut up!” Gaz hisses, going over to slap at MacTavish’s arm, “Can’t you see she’s bloody gutted about it – idiot!”

“Hey, now. That excuse for a man was in no way worthy of being with a beauty like her–”

“Johnny,” Ghost utters lowly, the only one able to see your quickly deteriorating state besides the Captain who tries to comfort you, “Shut your trap.”

“C’mon L.t, you had to have seen how he…” Soap stops, finally looking at you, and the chuckle that had been building in his throat dissolved.

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you blink out of your trance, slowly turning your head to look out of the corner of your eye. John squeezes, and you find that his grip over his gifted jacket is warmer than anything you remember. But you don’t look at his face, instead, you tilt your head down and fold your arms on the counter, slotting your skull in the middle of them.

John’s hand gravitates to your back and rubs small circles, and above you, he mutters, “Talk to me, Love.”

“He…” You interrupt, hands tightening into fists. Your eyes burned something fierce, but you can just blame the shaking of your body on the wet clothes, “I was going to surprise him. He didn’t know that I was back in town yet, anyways. But, uh, he’s been cheating on me, I guess…Found ‘em in bed.”

Price’s hand stutters over its coarse, but he clears his throat and continues as your stomach tightens,

“Son of a fucken’ bastard,” Simon’s the first one to speak – which would have surprised you if you’d been paying attention, “That prick did what?”

Gaz murmurs, “Shit..,” off to the side, but your hidden gaze doesn’t bother to move as Soap lets off a string of curses and insults on Leon’s name.

The hand over your back is intoxicating, and you feel drunk as you focus on it. John’s fingers dig into his jacket, but just enough for you to feel his nails create a light stimulation through the layers. There was a sense to his actions, you know. He was trying to ground you; he wanted you to focus on his caress.

You didn’t want to admit how well it was working.

But it was a good thing he did because you have a feeling if he wasn’t there you’d be replaying the events of tonight in your mind one after the other like a fucked up movie.

Leon really did that, You suck in a shaky breath that leaves John moving closer, and you hear muttered conversations from above you, All of those years…Did I really miss something as obvious as him cheating on me?

It couldn’t be helped.

When you came back from deployments your mind let go of the hyper-focus that was ingrained into you – that Price had ingrained into you – and settled into a haze of sanctity. Home meant food, sleep, and a place of comfort. But when the fighting started you suppose a part of that focus came back to you, blocking out everything that didn’t matter.

Missing pictures, clothes stuffed where they shouldn’t be, your hair products hidden. They were pointless in the grand scheme of things because you were at battle in your own house. It was small compared to your breaking relationship.

Maybe that’s when I stopped loving him, You reason, and it’s the first time you admit you didn’t care about Leon in that way anymore, When the fighting started. Did I unconsciously know what he’d done?

You had been more irritable when you were back at the house, some fights even instigated by you.

“But how did I miss it…?” You can’t help but whisper, strained, into the woodgrain of the counter in your cocoon.

“None of that,” John suddenly says, voice low, and his hand over you halts, “That’s a good way to mess your head up, that is, Love. Just stay here.”

Shivering, you sniffle, lungs stuttering and with a hot face stained with embarrassment, you whimper out, “I’m such an idiot.”

The stool beside you screeches as it’s pulled out.

“You say that again I’m leaving you on desk rotation for a week,” John grunts, and from your hiding place your head shifts, one eye peeking out from over your arm. You find the man glaring at you so heatedly you pause as tears start to leak down your cheeks once more, “I mean it. None of that bullshit – you are not at fault – that,” He pauses, and you see his chest sputter as he tries to collect himself. Price’s eyes flash with rage before it’s gone in an instant, “That’s the bloody bastard’s cross to carry, Love. Understand me?”

You stare at him; at his boiling blue eyes as the sound of a hockey game plays in the background of this shitty bar. The warm lights overhead gather in them to flicker like stars when he blinks, creating constellations for you to memorize when his eyelids once more pull back.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He levels, head with that black beanie tilting closer, “Copy?”

“Copy,” You croak out, blinking to clear the fuzziness of your eyes. Reaching one of your hands, you pull the jacket closer around your neck. It smells like John, and whether you notice it or not, the tension in your muscles leaks when you inhale smoke, pine trees, and gunpowder.

Patting you on the back, the man stares into you, optics stuck on the image of your tear-stained cheeks and dripping hair. His trench coat was most likely going to be soaked, but he found he didn’t care. If it brought you comfort, the outrageous price he paid for it would be made back tenfold. Maybe he’d even let you keep it; didn’t matter if it was his favorite, he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it.

Not able to stop the words coming out of his mouth when you meet his gaze with fluttering eyelashes, John speaks once more as he feels the gazes of his teammates around him. But the words came easily.

“You didn’t deserve to come home to that. That boy doesn’t know what he’s just lost, alright?” When he sees your cheeks move in a small, barely-there smile, and the way your eyes lit with embers at his teasing tone, the Captain let a smirk of his own fall. But he still refused to speak Leon’s name aloud – his own anger was held on a thin string that was fraying by the moment. You? Getting cheated on? Who in their right mind would do that?! The Muppet didn’t deserve to have your perfect ears twitch at his name ever again, “At least tell me you ripped him a new pair, Love? If not, I’ll have to review your training exercises. Maybe add in a bracket for hand-to-hand.”

“...I might have sucker-punched him.”

John’s chuckle is velvet as it slips through your eardrums.

“Attagirl, I’d have paid to see that, I wager. Everyone knows you throw a heavy hand,” Your giggle makes his heart soar; beat violently in his breast.

He’d give everything to hear you make that noise again.

“Did it down him?” Your head slowly peaks up farther, perfect chin now visible. Your short-lived tears had stopped.

“Twirled like a dancer on a string.”

“Bloody brilliant, my girl. Bloody fucken’ brilliant.” Nodding, John smiles, beard pulling back to show pearl-white teeth, and claps your shoulder.

You love the way he makes you feel, like everything you do is well-thought-out and not just spur of the moment. Creasing your eyelids, you rub at your cheeks to try and wipe away the heat of them, knowing that wouldn’t work but still trying. John made your brain pump with dopamine, giddiness striking you in the chest like a bullet with a simple smile and his hand on your back.

…Why was his hand still on your back?

“This place got any good drinks?” You ask, trying not to look so entranced by the man in front of you.

John’s grip slips away and you hate that you want to snatch at it; feel the calluses burn your skin and dig into sensitive flesh. Breaking up with Leon had given you an adrenaline spike, one that lasted so long you were still riding it – only just now was the raging of your heart beginning to still.

It was a bad thought, you told yourself, a horrible thought to have right now…but damn it if John didn’t look like the solution to all of your problems, that yearning urge to feel good.

Leon was gone.

“Hm,” Your Captain murmurs, and your trailing eyes snap from his tight athletic shirt to his face. John turns himself to the front, grunting and setting his elbows on the counter, he lifts one finger up into the air to the frowning bartender and sends you a glace, “Unfortunately, MacTavish picked a place before I could verify,” The bartender thumps over and the Captain confidently says, “One Old Fashioned for the lady, and a refill for me, yeah?”

The bartender's eyebrows furrow, “Old Fashioned? What the hell is that?”

John’s body stills, and his face blanks as if he’s been personally offended. Laughing, you move back from the counter, hopping off the stool and going to stand near your Captain. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you tilt your head when his full attention whips to you.

His eyes glance at your hand before they settle; softening around the cold edges as the pupils widen. You nearly lose your breath at the sight…It made you want to snatch that hat off his head and make him chase you down for it; hold you to his chest and squeeze.

Stop it.

“I think I’m gonna head back to Base,” You say aloud, “Hang out in the Rec room and go to bed early. Maybe get a headstart on reports for tomorrow,” Looking back at the boys, you begin taking off Price’s trench coat, small hesitations in your nerves showing how much you wanted to keep it around you. But you needed to leave – clear your head without John’s scent making you hazy, “Don’t stay out too long, boys, I’m not coming to drag you back.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Simon utters, knocking a billiard ball and watching the ricochets. He sends you a guarded look, numb eyes running over you, “Drive safe. Weathers looken’ like it's letting up, but don’t trust it.”

“Right,” You nod. You know what he really means.

Gaz is watching you and sending quick glances to Soap with his dark eyes, and you see the Scot clenching his stick with a white-knuckled grip – blue eyes glaring at the table with a clenched jaw and tensing biceps. Like he was itching to lay someone on the ground and wale on them.

Your lips twitch. Soap had been by your side for four months; watching your back just as you had his. That creates a bond of brotherhood that can’t be overlooked. The stocky man was perhaps more upset about this ordeal than you were, now that you thought about it. The Task Force didn’t even know the extent of your fights with Leon – they’d kill him if they did.

If you even mentioned your Grandma’s lamp, the boys would rip your Ex apart.

“Suds,” Calling out, you fold John’s jacket over your arm. Soap whips his head to you, blinking back to focus.

“Yeah, Little Lady. You need something?”

“I need you to stop strangling the Cue Stick. You’re gonna break it before Simon can beat you, and that would just be embarrassing,” Soap stares at you, mouth slightly open, before he snaps to his iron grip and unclenches his hand.

“R-right,” The Scot’s eyes crease, and he itches at his mohawk with his free hand. A pause, “Are you…alright?”

You hesitate, looking to the floor as your feet shuffle before your right yourself, “I will be.”

Turning to John, you hold out your arm and feel heat on the tips of your ears when he’s already meeting your line of sight.

“Sorry about the water,” Trying not to let out a weak chuckle, you fail, “It looked pretty expensive just to be ruined by me. I’ll pay you for the dry cleaning bill.”

Price grunts, already shaking his head and lightly gripping you by the arm to push the jacket back to you. He stands up and you suck in a quick breath, nose nearly brushing his peck from how close you both were.

“You’ll need it,” Your eyebrows crease, not understanding, as he smirks at you, “What kind of Captain would I be if I let you drive back alone after all this?” John grumbles, shaking his head and pulling out his wallet, “I’m driven’ that’s an order.”

He tosses a fifty on the table for the bill and nods to the boys over your head, an authoritative tone leaking out. You don’t move away from him, letting his body heat leave you shivering and taking in shallow breaths. Try as you might, your mouth denies to refuse him.

“Be back on Base by 0100 and up for drills at 0500. It’s your fault if you Muppets only get five hours of sleep,” John lays a hand behind your shoulder blades and you let him guide you to the door, “Soap – you’re due for debriefs at 0800 in my office. I expect you to be punctual.”

A quiet grunt carries over the space.

You slip on the jacket, clearly seeing that John wouldn’t let up on this. Maybe…maybe you wouldn’t mind the company of the large-bodied Captain. Already the pain of being cheated on was dull when he was around. But would you be able to focus if he was right by you like this? You doubted it.

Slapping Gaz on the shoulder as you pass him, he sends you a soft look and utters, “Get some sleep, Love, alright? It’ll all be better in the morning. I’ll make sure the boys are back at Base soon so you don’t have to worry about ‘em.”

“Thanks, Garrick. Means a lot. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

“Behave, Sergeant,” John makes it to the door, opening it for you and feeling the draft enter, “Ghost,” The manchester man tilts his covered head from where he stands bent over the pool table, “watch these two, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Hey–!”

“What in the–!”

Price lets the door slam shut and whispers past your smile-split face, watching through the window as Soap and Gaz level offended gazes out at the Captain through the racing raindrops on the glass. Simon stands a bit straighter and once again scores on Johnny.

“They’re going to hold a grudge for weeks, John. Putting Ghost in charge of them when they’re on leave? Really? He’s never going to let the two live it down,” You say above the rain as you lead him to where your car is parked on the street, cheekiness littering your words.

“Let ‘em,” Price scoffs, and you feel his hands go to the jacket, puffing the collar up for you. Blinking away the rain, you smile shyly at the action, “not goin’ to change that they still have to get up tomorrow. After a twenty-mile run, I’m sure they’ll be too knackered to care, eh?”

“Hm,” You affirm, envisioning the future in your head with sadistic pleasure, and reach into your pocket. Tossing your keys into the air, John catches them effortlessly with a fast fist, only a small clink of the metal connecting heard.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk down the street, steadying you with a hand on your back even if he knew you were capable of walking by yourself. Above all, John was a gentleman – whenever you were with him, he always walked near the road, kept a hand in the small of your back, and watched the street with roaming eyes.

This was the first time you’d felt his gaze completely set on you. Had he always done that? No, you knew, but recalled something from the back of your mind as you side-stepped a puddle, moving closer to John unconsciously. His hand’s weight becomes more prominent, angling you into his hold.

After Madagascar was when he had started looking at you more often...you had thought it was because of the injury, but was it?

Shaking away the thought, you quickly make it to your car and leave Price’s steady side, hand resting on the handle. The familiar sound of the lock clicking open has you rushing inside to escape the pitter-patter of rain on your skull. Snapping the door shut, John in the driver’s seat does the same.

You both look at each other, and can’t help the chuckles at the disheveled looks you both share.

“Wind-swept hair would look dashing on you, Captain,” You tease, nose crinkling as you shake your head. The beanie on the man’s head was weighed down and John grimaces at the feeling, glaring up at it before peeling it off his head.

His free hand goes to his hair, ruffling it to dispel some of the water.

“Bloody rain,” He mutters, sparing you a look only to find you’re watching intently with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A tension grows, and for the first time, you don’t push the feeling away. Your smirk slowly slips, going slack as you watch water drip from John’s nose. The world outside the car seems to blur, and nothing but the pair of you exist in this state of perpetual stillness. John’s eyes are such a shade of blue you have to wonder if you could ever look at the ocean again and not think of him, or even smell smoke on the street and not search him out.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about him, but how could you not?

“You’re staring, Love,” John mutters, and you blink, shocked, but the man makes no move to stop looking right back at you in turn. His beard shifts as his jaw moves, bristles accented by the light of the street lamps.

“Well, so are you,” Teasing, you send a nervous smile before shifting away to clip your seatbelt in place.

His hand stops you halfway, covering your own with a large grip as his fingers glide over your skin leaving white-hot sparks. Freezing you watch as Price’s hand squeezes yours and helps you lock the seatbelt into the clip. The man’s hand stays there a moment longer as you, wide-eyed, feel your fingers twitch under his; memorizing the feel of them.

“Thank you, John,” You breathe, and your grip moves, turning to capture his own and curl his fingers into yours. He flinches, before loosening and he studies your face, cerulean blue jumping from one spot on your visage to another, “For everything.”

The man’s body stills and he blinks down at you. His breath is shallow, rattling in his chest. Something was in his eyes you couldn’t name.

“...Anytime, Dear.”

Price’s hand falls from your hold and leaves to gravitate toward the keys in the ignition. He twists them, and immediately the shaking of the car tells you it’ll survive one more day. Settling farther into John’s jacket you nuzzle your head into the fabric, curling your arms around your middle and resting your eyes. You try to calm your raging heart as the car peels out into the road, breathing through the stuffy air that smells so much like the two of you.

The ride to Base is quiet, but not at all like the kind of silence that had suffocated you on the journey back to Leon’s home – this was a comforting silence. Once you might not have understood what that meant. After all, how could a lack of sound leave your eyelids heavy and a floating feeling in your head?

When the parking garage gate opened, you had blinked awake.

Did I fall asleep? Rubbing at your eyes, the crick in the back of your neck told you all you needed to know. Groaning, a small chuckle to your side leaves you turning to face John, who carefully drives down the ramp as you swallow down the dryness of your throat.

“Sleep well?” He raises an eyebrow, observing out ahead of him.

You scoff in retaliation and don’t answer as John picks a free spot and parks.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Your ears twitch at his low tone and the rumble like a lullaby in his chest. Was he trying to put you back to sleep?

He gets out of the car and goes to your side as you continue to wake up, opening the door and unclipping your seatbelt.

“Steady,” John whispers, taking your hand and helping you out as your yawn, “I’ll give your keys back tomorrow afternoon, eh? You’ll lose ‘em like last time if I hand ‘em over to ya’ now.”

“Will not,” You retaliate, stumbling over nothing and causing your face to heat when John smiles, eyes crinkling in a tease.

“Will…You’ll get them back tomorrow. That’s that,” Grumbling, you huff but stay by his side as you both go to the main entrance, sliding past the door and nodding to the guard posted for watch duty.

“Captain, Ma’am,” The guard greets and a second later you’re both striding down the dimmed hallways with John sending you glances every so often.

“What is it, Captain?” Asking after it becomes too prominent to ignore, you send him a small smile, “I know I look like shit but I can’t be that bad to the point you have to ogle me.”

John’s face snaps forward and he clears his throat, hands going to slide into his pockets. You pull his jacket closer, eyes turning to silk.

He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“...Just makin’ sure you’re not going to pass out before you get back to your Barracks,” He blinks, and a blush hidden under his beard makes his ears turn red. You notice with a start that he had left his soggy hat in your car and that his messy hair made him look like he had gotten into a catfight. It was…an attractive look on him, to say the least, “...and you don’t look like shite, Sweetheart. You’re a beauty no matter what happens. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Your breath catches, and in that moment of struggling to breathe, you can only let out a tiny, “Oh, o-okay,” and try to walk straight as butterflies litter your stomach.

Did…did he call me beautiful? John called me beautiful.

A true, giddy, smile flickers over your lips even as you try to force it down; and just as simple as that, any hurt that Leon had left behind disappears. Everything is replaced by John’s large frame, blue eyes, and grunted words.

You get to your room and open the door, standing in the opening with dizzy thoughts. Turning around with a content expression, you’re forced to take a deep breath when your nose almost connects with a firm chest. Standing straighter, you snap your head up to find John towering above you, body heat melting into you and causing a reactionary shiver.

“John…?” You ask, head straining to stare at his down-turned face. Something lies hidden behind his eyes, flashing every so often as his gaze narrows. It was the same look as the one in the car, “What are you…?” His lips are thin, and something swirls in your gut when you see how his muscles tense. He’s holding something back.

If you moved any closer your breasts would brush against him, and under your water-heavy sweatshirt, your nipples harden at the idea.

Stop it, You warn yourself, but when he’s looking at you like that – bathed in the hallway light with wrecked hair and widened pupils – you can’t help the way your body reacts to his. Not anymore.

Leon was gone.

“You mind if I come in, Darling?” Your Captain’s raspy voice sings to your heart, pulse skipping a beat, “Wouldn’t want you to be alone right now, understand me?”

Taking a shallow breath, your hands at your sides start shaking, subtle actions making it all the more apparent of the growing fire.

You should say no. Tell him it wasn’t appropriate. But…there was no hiding the attraction you had for Price, not when your boyfriend was out of the picture. You should be mourning the lost relationship of your high school sweetheart, not just hopping into another confusing situation with your fucking superior!

Frowning, your shoulders hunch. If you said yes – which you really wanted to – that was the final signature on your self-respect and dignity. It would mean a whole stack of paperwork and many late nights. You could lose your job, get John kicked off the Task Force and demoted, the list was endless.

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Price comments, and he smiles down at you as your eyes widen, tension leaking away as you focus on his words like law, “It’ll be alright. You can say no if you want. You know that. It won’t hurt me.”

But it would, wouldn’t it, because it would hurt you too.

It was more than what was on the surface – the tension in the car that had festered ever since Madagascar told you already what would happen if you let him in. This had been the result of a number of years of pinning building one day after another into a mountain of need and lust. But there had always been a barrier in the way. Leon.

But Leon was gone now; where did that leave you with this stone in your stomach and a want to be with a man you now knew wanted you back?

And John was still giving you an out if you wanted it. A layered warning that this wasn’t the smartest decision for either of you.

“John,” You breathe, “I shouldn’t.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Neither should I.”

So that was ultimately why you grabbed his shirt, dragged him into your room, and finally smashed your lips to his.

John’s arms immediately wrap around your body and peel back his jacket from your form, kicking the door behind him closed so hard the wall rattles. You help, letting him grab the cuff and rip it off as your lips dance in needy kisses that leave your teeth clacking together and air falling from fast breaths.

His tongue runs over your lip and you open your mouth readily, not caring about how the floor’s going to form a puddle from the soaked jacket or the other water-clogged clothes when they inevitably hit the floor as well. John’s kiss was so intoxicating that when you first felt his hands steady you around your waist you pulled back in surprise, a trail of saliva leaving the two of you connected before it broke.

“John, we shouldn’t,” You say, breathless as air is sucked back into your red, shiny, lips. It was useless trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t what you wanted since you met him. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you had been cheating this entire time. A traitorous, cheating, heart.

“No, we shouldn’t,” John growls out, accent far more prominent at that moment than ever before as his eyes darken; boring into your tissue to peel back the layers of your mind until all that remains is him. His lips were so red and shiny you wanted to bite them, “But I couldn’t bloody give a damn.”

His face once more slammed into yours, and one hand travels to the back of your head, firm. But, if you wished for it, it would leave in a millisecond and you could pull away without a word. All of this could end in a second and John or yourself would never bring it up again; forgetting the unprofessionalism and the way your body reacted to the swipe of his tongue over yours. The sounds you two were making were enough to make you cum right there – the panting, wet kissing. It was improper, dirty, but, beyond all of that…utterly addicting. How high he made you feel needed to be studied, you reasoned, no one could be like this.

Your hands snapped to his chest and you dig your nails into his shirt, dragging down and feeling his body jolt and squirm. John’s hand on your head tightened as you devoured each other, weaving into your hair as your fingers fall to latch onto his side, feeling the muscle tense and the man groan into your gasping mouth. His pelvis thrusts involuntarily, hitting your thigh.

The way he shutters against you leaves your legs rubbing firmly together as a pounding echoes in your navel. John drags you closer to him.

It seemed you made your decision, but you had a funny feeling you won’t regret it.

Heaving like a wounded animal, John peels back to twist you around, back connecting with the wall as his lips immediately hook onto your neck, saliva dripping down your pulse point in a long, slick, path. A wanton whimper leaves when you feel his beard scrape over your sensitive skin, leaving sparks in its wake that travel directly to your lower body. Using his right foot, the man shoves your legs apart, where you had them previously clenched together and pooling in hot, contained, desire.

“Don’t worry, Love,” He whispers, biting at your ear as your eyes flutter when he slides his thigh in between your splayed legs. You can’t help the loud moan you make when he snaps the thick portion of him up into your core and even through your pants you feel the instinctual, animalistic, urge to roll your pelvis. Fuck, you wanted to ride his thigh, come undone while he watched with those unwavering blues of his, “I’ll take care of you. Make you forget all about that poor bastard. Bloody prick doesn’t even know what he’s lost, but I nearly should thank him for it, yeah?”

“John,” You don’t know what you want, mind a hazy mess as one of your hands snaps to his head just like how he held yours and pulled at the strands tightly. Are you drunk? You feel drunk?

His hand on your thigh forces you to press down into his knee as he grunts in approval of your deteriorating state when you writhe with pleasure at the sensation.

“That idiot just gave me the best damn woman he ever could. Fucken’ fool, he is,” He’s muttering into your ear, head pressed into the wall, as your self-respect flies out the window at his next words, “I’ll fuck you better than he did, Love. C’mon, use me like I’ve wanted you to,” Your hips rut over the substitute for his dick with desperation to stimulate your needy clit, head rocking to the side in a heavy trace of puffing breaths.

Already the room was heating up, beginning to lose the scent of cinnamon from your old candle and reeking of sweat and carnal urgency.

“Just like that,” John whispers, words slow as the sensation of his tongue licking a stripe over your skin makes you pant and keen. Small jolts of pleasure run from the hard bud hidden behind wet layers, “Steady…Keep your head still.”

He goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, and through your haze, you know he’s not thinking about how you’ll have to try and hide them tomorrow. John wants people to see the love bites, how they bruise purple and blue all over your throat and under your ear. He lays one on the junction of your shoulder and neck, and your eyes roll at the caress of a hot tongue and immediate sharp teeth digging into flesh a moment later; shuttering.

You hope he leaves some beard burn behind.

That's when you rip his head away by gripping his hair like a vise and then slam it into yours, shoving your tongue so far down his throat you listen to his chest rattle with shock at the action.

His knee jerks up, and you gasp with nerves that sizzle with lighting and a pool of slick in your core that leaks like a river before a strained plea is said into John’s maw, “Do that again.”

Your Captain doesn’t say anything, but his body shakes with need before doing what you ask. You could feel how hard he was through his pants as the weight digs into your stomach. The knowledge that you would get to feel him inside of you, stretching you open, served to confirm the fact that you would have to throw these panties away tomorrow.

God, he felt huge, thick, and firm.

John begins to jump his knee up and down, jolting your body as he pulls back to watch with awe at your body’s reaction; setting his forehead against yours. Whining, your back arches, and your shoes brush against the ground every other motion. Every movement sends your nerves alight. It was almost too much – oversensitivity threatening to pull you under with every perfectly angled jumping of your Captain’s knee.

You slick was staining his pants, completely soaking all layers.

“Fuck, look at you work, Love,” John was entranced as you got off on him, “Can’t believe that Bastard was getting this when you came back. See how soaked you’ve made me? Shit. Bloody temptress, you are.”

“Need you,” Your lips gasp out, legs shaking violently, “F-fingers. Inside. A-anything! Been wanting you for so long, John.” It was difficult to speak and focus on the pleasure at the same time, but you think he got the point.

Your pants were too tight, clothes grating to feel on your flesh. You want John’s hands on you. Now.

“Hm, what’s that?” Price grunts, still watching you move your clothed cunt against him with added fever.

Annoyance swirls.

“John,” Your mouth snarls, and his face shifts to look back up at you, noses squished together as you breathly sigh at another well-angled jump. Price’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Fuck me like how you stroke your cock to the thought of me.”

A moment of shocked silence at your vulgar language.

“Copy.” At once his knee is gone, and you’re squeaking as he grabs you by the waist and the world spins and dances around you.

John tosses you over his shoulder and the tension in your lower abdomen that had been building turns from a boil to a simmer. You’re about to complain before fingers begin working your shoe laces, tossing the boots off as the man strides to the bed in the corner.

He lays a heavy slap to your ass that makes you yelp out and hit his back in return. The sparks left behind make your legs clench and your stomach tighten; your hands tear into his back. John chuckles, smoothing over the spot before his grip travels, grabbing onto the waistband of your cargo’s. Ripping them down to your ankles, you moan at the sudden cool air on your cunt and shutter. Anticipation pools to produce a second pulse inside of you, getting louder and more ruthless by the second.

You were so horny it physically hurt to have his grip on you and not inside of you.

John tosses you to the bed and watches your tits as you bounce on the mattress, looking up at him with black-consumed eyes and a euphoric expression. He wastes no time – the man shucks off his boots and grips his belt with a veiny hand, ripping it from his pants and tossing it to the side. You had the best view of the large tent in his pants, violently straining the fabric in a way your hand can’t stop itself from clenching into the bed sheets.

“Touch yourself for me, Love, let me see you work that cunt of yours before I eat you out, yeah?”

Licking your lips, you moan, “Yes, Sir.”

“Ah, look at my good girl, listens so well to her Captain,” Your fingers aren’t as long or as thick as his are, so they can't do much as you slip them under your underwear and play with your weeping slit as you clench at the comment.

Your fourth and fifth fingers enter you, and your thumb presses into your stiff clit, moving in a tight circle as you stare into John’s eyes. Involuntarily, your lower body rocks in a steady motion as your eyes drink in the man and his heaving lungs...

You want him naked.

“Bloody Fucken’ hell,” Price throws off his shirt, and palms at his erection through his pants as his dog tags hit against his scarred and formed chest.

The sharp ‘V’ of his lower abdomen immediately draws your eyes downwards over the impressive physique, a trail of small dark hairs going lower and lower just to be shielded by the rough material of his pants. John’s skin glistens with sweat, and you want to lick it off of him. If possible, you get even wetter.

You smirk, hips jerking as you send a heavier motion on your nerve bundle; head rolling to the side and mouth opening as you feel yourself tighten around your fingers. That knot was returning, forming as you curl your digits in your slick heat, making your eyelids flutter.

When you open them again and force them to stay still, you find a heavenly sight beside you. Your eyes widen, and your slit tightens so violently your movements stutter and struggle like a noose had been tightened around your neck. The lungs inside of you gasp.

John’s pants and boxers were gone, leaving nothing on him besides his tags that clink and clatter as he jerks himself off at the sight of you. His sizable dick was red at the tip, lit with fire as precum dribbled out and splatted to the mattress right by your free hand – which clenches the sheets so hard you faintly hear a tear as your ears twitch. But your eyes don’t leave the magnificent sight in front of you watching like a hawk as John’s abdominal muscles tighten with every twisted motion of his hand.

He was so violent with himself, the exact opposite of how you were playing with your own body. That wasn’t to say the image was anything but fuel to the fire, though.

You whimper and writhe, wrist burning and palm completely soaked with natural lube.

“Ruining the show, Dear,” The tendon in Price’s neck flares, and a bead of sweat falls down his peck. Inside your sweatshirt, your breasts ache to be squeezed and abused.

Not processing his words for a moment, you pause your fast breaths to let out a high-pitched sound of confusion.

John doesn’t answer, because he moves his free hand and grips your panties, which stretch over your ministrations. He tears them down your thighs, and his touch is like a drug.

“There we go, Princess. Now I can see that pretty cunt of yours.” Keening at the praise, your back lightly arches from the bed, watching John continue to work himself and matching his pace, imagining him inside of you instead of your fingers, “You like that, yeah? You like when I speak to you like that, dirty girl?”

You bite into your lip, knot so tight you want to grab a pair of scissors and cut it before it tears you up. Fuck, you were so close, the erotic sounds of the both of you fucking yourselves are so wet it increases the pleasure spiking your veins.

A wet hand snaps to your wrist stopping you just seconds away from a release.

Gasping out in shocked desperation, your mouth releases a strangled plea of, “No, John, please.”

“Answer me when I speak to you,” You stare at your Captain’s bearded face as his hand keeps a heavy weight on your skin. He tears your fingers out of you and keeps them away from your core as you try and ferally move them back. John’s jaw is clenched – he holds you with the hand he was touching himself with not a second before, and you tense at the thought, “I asked you a question, Princess. I expect an answer if you want to cum.”

Tears of desperation form in your ducts. You were so close, but now the sensation was leaving again.

“Yes!” You yell, voice high, “Yes, John I like it when you tell me how good I am! It gets me wet for you… m-my cunt fucking needs you in it, please! I need you to fucking ruin me, Captain! I want your dick stretching me open like–”

His lips silence your rant, shoving the back of your head into the pillow and moving his body to shadow above yours. The action leaves you moaning so loud at the sensation of his athletic body you forgot the walls were thin and that you were sounding like you were in a pornographic film.

John smirks above you and replaces your fingers with his own, making your legs shake and twitch at the sensation of his callouses against your walls and his large digits burning as they enter you. He thrusts quickly, sopping wetness quickly making it easy, and the pleasure increases.

“Just had to say yes, Love,” His cock jumps and you feel it brush your lower abdomen, so painfully close but not quite. The man’s dog tags connect right above your face, swinging back and forth as he moves.

You gasp when his fingers curl, squelching echoes over the breathy chants of his name that you release.

“Look at how fucken’ wet you are,” John praises you, and your walls flutter, as he watches his fingers move in and out of you, “Gotta’ get a taste of that, Love…Take off your top for me so I can see those pretty tits bounce.”

Fuck you were on fire.

Your shaking limbs don't hesitate, hands snapping to throw the sweatshirt and your bra from you without a coherent thought in your brain. Completely bare before him, John’s expression darkens and swirls with lust. His fingers leave you and he moves down the mattress, leaving back on his knees and grabbing your thighs. Your chest heaves with adrenaline and bare need. This was better than any gunbattle – more thrilling than a training session, and far better than anything Leon had done to you.

John was focused on you. Entirely. The man was forsaking his own painfully erect cock just to go down on you; to taste your wetness like it was nectar.

Price hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, and your ankle digs into his back to bring him closer to your cunt.

“Easy there, Princess. I’ll give you what you need,” His breath spreads over your slit, and your hips jerk before his hand splays over your navel, thumb just brushing your throbbing clit. You try to buck again, whining, “Steady.”

He stares at your face as his tongue goes down to kitten licks your pussy, beard bristles poking your skin and leaving the flesh lit like a glowing ember.

“John!” You moan, and one of your hands snaps to your breast, squeezing as John explores your body, groaning deeply as he collects your slick on his tongue.

The man’s thumb goes to run circles around your nerve bundle, stimulating you as your body tries to move under his tight grip. But he has you under a tight rope, and the pleasure of it was nearly like being electrocuted over and over again. Your leg over his shoulder traps him there – eating you out like a man starved as his own hips begin to careen into the mattress. The pleasure of seeing you reduced to a blubbering mess that can only chant his name did primitive things to John’s mind.

And the way you were playing with your breasts…? Fuck, he was addicted to you; the way your body was perfect enough to devour.

John moans into your cunt, the vibrations biting every corner as the tension begins to shatter inside of you when his fingers go to assist his tongue. Your back arches as the muscle and digits work in tandem, pace increasing as the Captain curls over that perfect, spongy, spot that leaves tears falling down the side of your face.

“Fuck, just like that!” You wail, fingers flickering over your hardened nipple, “J-John just like that!”

The words were slurred, coming off as drunk as his beard leaves skin red and scraped on the inside of your thighs. Your cunt tightens, walls closing in around John’s tireless lapping and fingering. His thumb on your clit moves faster, and he lets your hips careen into his face over and over again as his large nose bumps against that same spot.

Tension builds and builds like an infection, and your free hand snaps to grip your Captain's hair, jerking his face farther into you and ruthlessly twisting the locks.

John whimpers into your slit, cock stuttering in its harsh rutting into the mattress, and your eyes erupt into stars, white light blowing up as your release makes time stand still.

Gutturally moaning into the hot air, you pant as you come down just to feel a tongue cleaning up your thighs, slurping up cum, and playing around with your sensitive flesh. Fingers still pump inside of you, helping you ride out anything that’s left.

You can’t speak beyond small whimpers and gasps at the movement, but when you look down you’re met with John’s ruined face.

His entire beard was stained, dripping cum down onto your navel as he licks at your clit once. Your hips jerk and you cry in protest at the oversensitivity of the abused area, eyes fluttering.

“Just as I thought,” John’s voice is velvet, dripping just like his beard and nose do as he licks his lips with a demented sucking noise “Boody perfect, doll. Could eat that cunt for hours, just to see you squirm when I’m fucken’ you with my tongue. Better than Whisky.”

You swallow as his hands caress your thighs, the grip traveling as his body slides up yours. His cock is heavy and leaking as it slides over your drenched slit. Thrusting up into it, the both of you gasp out. John lays drenched kisses all over your sweat-drowned body, leaving a trail of saliva and cum behind him as his own slots over you perfectly.

“Speak to me,” He groans, and your fingers still in his locks lightly pull as he pushes your still hand over your breast away with his nose. His hot mouth latches onto your nipple and sucks before laying a deep bite around it.

Writhing, he continues his expiration as a bead of sweat falls down your neck to pool at your bitten collarbone. John licks it up and continues like it’s nothing.

“F-feels good,” Is all you can say, not used to this type of treatment, “R-really good, Captain.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cheeky as his head pulls up to be above yours, hands pressing into the pillow beside your head, “Hm, think my Bird can take a cock? Want me opening that lovely cunt of yours up?”

Your heart pounds, hairs standing on end. The words were so vulgar, but you feel your arousal increase.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

John lays a gentle kiss on your bruised lips, and you taste your own release as he sighs into your mouth; connecting your foreheads together when he pulls away.

“I want your eyes on me the whole time, yeah?” He grunts, one hand going to grab at himself as he shivers above you. Chest bursting with anticipation, your free hand goes to intertwine its fingers with John’s beside your head – the other still gripping his hair, “I wanna see the way you lose yourself on me.”

You can’t answer before he’s filling you up.

Your eyes widen at the stretch, embers of pain bordering on the ledge of pleasure as the man pauses at your expression, going to play with your clit. On your face, your nose scrunches, hesitance floating in your orbs as you let out tight breaths even as his finger does wonders.

“S’alright,” John whispers to you, squeezing your hand and feeling the mewls your lips let out at the sensation of deep callouses, “I’ll be careful, Love. You can take me. Breathe.” Muttering paise as his cerulean blues bore into you, he resumes moving.

How could you even fit him all inside of you? The tip already burned to take so far into your womb.

But you were plenty wet, the squelching sound resumed, and John tilted his head down to see the way he disappeared inside your cunt like magic. Your thighs have to move farther up his own to help, one locking around his waist as a ring of milky liquid forms over the joining.

The man’s eyes widen when he spies the bulge forming in your lower body, the indent popping out like a hole that’s been repacked with too much dirt. For the final last push, the man forces himself to look away and back up at you – he wants to see how you react. But at the last seconds, John’s eyes roll back into his head when he finally hits the base, a throaty groan mixing with your high-pitched moan as he bottoms out. Your chest flutters against his, and both of your hearts are going so fast they can be seen through your flesh.

You were so full, stretching around him so wide it was a miracle you hadn’t torn something. Both of your stay there for a moment, feeling your walls spasm around him and panting. Sweat falls from Price’s chin, splashing to your skin as your eyelids threaten to close at the stranger inhabiting your most sensitive area. It felt so good.

Your mind completely blanks, eyes glazing over with rapture at the feeling of John’s cock curving so far into you that you know he’ll push into your cervix when he moves. Every minute movement – even the deep breath John takes to steady himself – leaves you needing stimulation as the veins of his dick press into your soft walls.

“M-move, please,” Your numb lips flutter, and John’s eyes open from above you, jaw clenched and one orb more squinted than the other.

“Yes, Ma’am,” He whispers, expression soft as your hand in his hair tightens to ground yourself.

John begins slowly, letting you get used to him and the burning that he brings to your insides when he retracts and re-enters. His thrusts are measured, at first.

“Such a good girl,” He says above you, and your eyes refocus, body loosening as your form gradually adapts. But you were right, he’s hitting every corner of you as easily as he breathes. So thick it's like nothing you've ever felt. Your hips are canting up to meet his shallowly, but John does most of the work. He wants to. He wants to please you like Leon never could, to treat you right, “Taken’ me so well. See you grippin’ me, Dear…t-that’s it,'' Your pussy throbs, and you feel him move a little faster, “You’re gettn’ it down, eh? There’s that pretty little face of yours – all screwed up ‘cause of me. Hm, don’t go cock-drunk on me yet, Lovely.”

“John,” Is what you chant as he begins to fuck you in earnest, pelvis slamming into you as you feel him brush your cervix, “Oh, John.”

“That’s it,” He pants and angles his thrusts up. The action makes you yowl, head tossing back as Price goes to bite into your neck again, dog tags cold against your skin, “There’s that sweet spot, yeah?”

He hits it every single time, marksmanship training telling him to keep attacking the most important part; tears blur your wide sight, back arching as his hand at your clit goes to hike your leg farther up his waist, the limb uselessly flying out behind his back. The deep press of his blunt nails into the flesh adds to the overstimulation, and you can’t keep up if you tried. Too pleasure drunk, you let him do what he wants, as long as you can feel his veiny cock hitting that spongy spot again. His dick thrusts into you with such devotion, ringing out pleasure like how one does to a rag.

“Fuck…” He muttered into your neck, “Won’t last long with you squeezing me like that. You’re so bloody tight.”

The snake was coiling in your gut, tail rattling as John throbs inside of your heat, moving over your skin like he was water over a rock. Loosening your hand from his hair, your nails go to dig into the fletch of his back, raking down his spine as he growls under you; sending a sharp thrust up that has you seeing sparks in your vision. It was building so quickly you couldn’t properly speak, only moan and wail and wine.

You were sure your nails were biting into his skin, leaving long red scratches behind as some sick form of proof. Maybe they were even drawing blood. A sadistic part of you wanted them too.

“C-close,” Your gasp enters the thick air as your legs shake. John bites your earlobe, lifting his head from your skin to look at you from the side of his blown eyes.

“W-where do you want it, Love?” He gasps, his beard scraping your skin until it’s raw. You hoped you had lotion in the bathroom for tomorrow, “C’mon gotta tell me before I lose myself.”

“Inside!” You yell, not even knowing what you’re saying anymore. If you did a part of you would have died from embarrassment. The man’s eyes snap fully to yours, widening; you feel his body shaking above you, hands clenching too tightly around your thigh and embrace as the flesh turns a different shade, “Please, Captain, fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me for days! Please, I need your cum! Please, please…”

Price only sputters for a second before he begins to move like a man possessed. He pistons into you with heated movements and you gasp out in response, not sure how much more you could take but please don’t stop it feels so good. So, so, good when you move like that. Fill me with your seed.

“Made for me, you were,” John growls, ferally kissing you as you try to do the same back as he relentlessly pounds away, “I said it before, bloody fucken’ perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need. Make you so full of me you’ll be leaking all over the damned sheets.”

The coil snaps and you clench around Price’s cock so hard he moans into your mouth as you do the same.

“Fuck..!” His hips jerk one more time before he spills into you, hot spurts of his seed coating your walls and leaking out of the ring you two had made.

Shaking, John lets you ride it out as he continues to shakily thrust into you, but it isn’t long before he has to stop and his dick softens inside of you. After a moment of violent deep breaths, he has to shift, exiting from your reddened and leaking hole. Shuttering at the feeling of his ridges once more leaving, the foreign emptiness finally settles into your bones, you feel his cum pooling from you to collect on the mattress; your lower skin feels wet to the touch as the liquid follows the lines of your body and sticks to every part available.

Lungs desperate for air, your body heaves and shivers; your eyes stay locked onto the ceiling above you, where you wished the metal was the same shade of blue as John’s eyes. You didn’t even notice the man himself had gone into your bathroom to receive a damp rag to clean you up until the rough material was leaving you flinching away from it.

“Careful now,” John speaks lowly, and you hear his dog tags below you as he swipes at your folds. Your eyelashes flutter, legs tensing, “Need to clean you up.”

He lays a kiss on your knee and continues for a few minutes, muttering compliments and kind words that you miss as your ears ring; he cleans your combined fluids from your spent cunt delicately, completely different from how he was abusing it a short while ago.

John leaves, and when he returns a second time, he slips into the bed in front of you, taking the wrecked covers and arranging you carefully so you were covered by them.

A moment of hot pressing bodies passes, and your head is pressed into the man’s raging chest, drawn back to consciousness by his heart when he shifts, “...Didn’t hurt you, did I, Love?”

“Hm,” You groan, and moving your legs results in needles digging into the fine tissue, “No. But you’re going to be carrying me tomorrow.”

Your Captain has the audacity to laugh, his hand going to rest on your ass, rubbing the skin as he draws you closer.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, Y’know,” He whispers, laying kisses to your hair, “Long time.”

“Me too,” You admit, sighing as your eyes flutter shut, “Since Madagascar, I think.”

John lightly flinches, “Madagascar?” It’s a question, but he already knows the answer, “What about…”

He trails.

“Leon?” You ask and Price grunts, knocking his nose down into your scalp as he draws circles into your skin. He didn’t like you saying that man’s name, “I think I wanted to break up with him…finding him with someone else just gave me an easy out, I guess,” You think over the event. Had you been relieved slightly? Perhaps, but it was easier to tell now than earlier, “It was just…”

Stopping you hum, and turn your head to lay a kiss on a scar on John’s chest in your vicinity.

“Easier.”

It’s not a question your Captain poses, it's a statement.

“Less complicated, yeah.” He breathes a sigh into your hair and fatigue leaves your lids falling quickly.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” John mutters, “Copy?”

You don’t answer, because you’ve already fallen to sleep, body bruised and yet feeling far better than you had in years. John wanted to be with you, Leon was out of the picture – it was all turning up. But there was still that part of you that ached with betrayal, that bled when you poked at it with a finger; a wounded heart would do that. It bleeds for a bit.

Though, you knew John would be there with a bandage, to put pressure on the wound and catch the spills. Maybe that was selfish, but maybe you had a right to be for a little while. Your Captain certainly didn’t seem to mind.

John fell asleep quickly after, content for possibly the first time in years. He gets to hold you in his arms and wake up with you right by his side, even if the paperwork was going to be atrocious.

There was no doubt people had heard them, but it wasn’t like the Captain cared.

—

“Little Lady?” The knock wasn’t what woke you, John did. Looking up at him, he holds a finger to his lips and has a pleading look on his face. You raise a brow, about to go back to sleep before Soap’s voice makes you freeze, “I know you’re in there – you wouldn’t happn’ to have a clue where Price is, would you? Man missed the debriefing.”

Your wide eyes stay locked with Johns, Maybe If I don’t answer he’ll go a–

“That’s it, I'm coming in!”

“Wait!”

But the door was already opening – John hadn’t locked it, too caught up in the stupor of finally getting you into his arms and wetting his dick.

“...Steamn’ bloody Jesus!” Screaming and a quick rustling can be heard echoing out into the hallway, “...Well, well, well, Cap finally got the girl, did he? Bout’ time, I’d say! Tell me, now, how good was he in bed for an old man?”

“Stop lookn’ at her, you Muppet! I’ll hang you by the fucke–”

“How can’t I – her fucken’ tits are out and you’re about a bawhair away from her! Where else am I supposed to look, man?”

“Out!”

Soap rushes out, smiling wider than anything with gleaming eyes before stumbling and nearly careening into the wall as John Price rushes after, face red and snarling. The Captain had nothing more than a wrinkled, thin, standard white bed sheet around his tapered waist with dog tags fastened around his neck.

John’s clenched hand connects with the door frame and the rageful man leans out down the hall and yells, “When I find you, MacTavish, It’s your fucken’ neck under a goddamned rope! You hear me, Sergeant?! Your fucken’ neck!”

Vibrating laughter can be heard from the figure already disappearing down the corner of the woman’s Barracks.

“Wait till the boys hear about this!”

The door closes so loudly behind John that the wide-eyed bystanders in the hallway miss the lock being clicked into place with savage fingers. But the loud, chest-tightening, feminine laughter that forms moments later is none the clearer.

Well, secret’s out.

12K notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 10 months

Note

headcanons on miguel’s favorite sex positions? 💃

OOOO boi do i have some things to say about this

headcanon : Miguel's favourite sex positions and why with some quotes of what he would say in each situation for the positions

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, mentions of -breeding kink, size kink, soft sex, rough sex, pnv sex, prostate, bdsm. softdom!miguel, no use of Y/N word count : 1,3k

﹫tag list : @fandom-ash

Missionary : ⟢ description : the receiver partner lays back and the giving partner enters from above

listen, he is a simple man that sometimes likes to stick to the good ol stuff

this, and also because he just loves to watch you and how small you look under him

Miguel for SURE has a size kink, like LOOK at how BIG he is

and the fact that he knows he can cage you underneath him simply with his frame makes his cock twitch

also : this one gives him access to your neck and your breasts/chest, and every single position that does so is a must

bonus point for the kinky missionary where he ties your hands above your head while his roam your entire body

plus he just loves seeing you begging, that powerless look in your eyes as you squirm under him makes his eyes burn dark

“I’m going to make you come until you can’t breathe.”

Table-top / Countertop : ⟢ description : you don’t have to do this specifically on a table. Have the giver enter while the receiver sits or lies at the edge of a table, counter, or bed.

this man is devoted to his work, but he is mostly devoted to you

and sometimes he just can’t resist seeing your thigh thickening as you sit down, it does unspeakable things to him (because he is undoubtedly a thigh man, fight me on this)

gotta make some good use of these desks after all

if he really just can't wait for you two to be back to his quarters, he’d 100% make everyone leave the office so that he can just pin you down on the desk and fuck you senseless

once, you almost got caught because you were moaning a bit too loud, and he just pressed his hand on your mouth

“I love your moans nena, but for now you have to be silent.”

you had tried to control your moans better, biting on the inside of your cheek, your lip, or his

“don’t worry, because later, I’ll make you scream”

another way for him to take you that is similar to the countertop would be :

Face-off / the chairman ⟢ description : the giving partner sits on a chair or on the edge of a bed ; the receiver faces them while seated on their lap (for the chairman, the receiving is facing away)

he likes this one because this way he can see you, hold you close to him and still have access to your entire body

he’d spend so much time marking you, everywhere across your neck, breast and back

also the chairman might start because either you or him proposes some cockwarming during his work

“I need you, right now.”

when in the bedroom though, he will go for something similar but sweeter :

the Om/Rocking Horse ⟢ description : the giving partner sits cross-legged, (yoga/pretzel-style), while the receiver sits on their lap facing them. The receiver can wrap their legs around the giver and hug each other

he just loves the proximity of this one, it’s so intimate

how he can hold you in his arms while you go at your own rhythm. You look so good for him, he’s literally drunk on your every expression and moans

he’ll become a full koala, just wrapping his arms around you and kissing your skin tenderly, his eyes full of pure adoration for you

seeing you so close, he is so proud of you and how good you are for him

it’s in these moments that he wonders what he did to deserve to have such an amazing partner

“do you like the way that feels ? Gosh, you should see how good you look right now.”

Cowgirl ⟢ description : the receiver kneels on top, pushing off the giver’s chest and sliding up and down their thighs. The receiver can relieve some weight from their partner’s pelvis by leaning back and supporting themselves on their thighs

ooo boi many reasons

first of all, after a long day, if you want him, you can still fuck him when he is too tired to properly take care of you (this man will crave your body until his last breath)

second of all, the view he has is amazing

seeing you bounce on his dick, his hands grasping your breasts/chest and your hips while you’re rolling them onto him : pure bliss

third of all, this one allows you to manage your own rhythm and your own pleasure just the way you want it

he does also love some alternatives to it

reverse cowgirl for instance is insanely good, seeing your amazing ass lowering on his dick and grazing his lower belly is heavenly. Bonus point for this one if it’s mirrored sex, because seeing your beautiful face while you’re the one fucking him elevates his soul

“use me as your toy all night long”

Leap frog ⟢ description : this is a modified doggy style position. The receiver gets on their hands and knees, then, keeping hips raised, rests their head and arms on the bed.

remember the soft Miguel I told you about in the Om part ? Let’s set that idea to the side, ‘cause he ain’t soft in this one

damn this position makes him want to breed you so bad, because this has a sort of bestial and intense style to it

he can go deep into you, hitting all the good spots while he toys with your clit and drives you from one climax to the other

he will lock your wrists in your back with just one hand while with the other he grips your hair

he loves the feeling of your ass against him, and will undoubtedly grab it full hand or slap it

he might or might not use this one whenever he feels frustrated and needs to vent the tension

“i’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk”

Scoop me up/spooning ⟢ description : both partner lie on their side, facing the same direction while the giver enters the receiver

Miguel, as we can imagine, is the big spoon, and he loves being it

so combining this with sex ? Oh boi that’s a win

also (same as with cow-girl) this is a great way for him to still make love to you when he is tired after a long day because he doesn’t need to use a lot of energy

bonus point about this one : he loves it because, when you’re all done, there’s nothing much left to do but snuggle up and fall asleep in each other’s embrace

“Coño, you feel amazing.”

Mating press / Seashell ⟢ description : the receiver lies back with their legs raised all the way up, the giver enters from a missionary position

as mentioned earlier, Miguel probably has a good ol’ breeding kink

so of course this position is a necessity

he can be all good and deep inside you while you're under him, he might bite your calf

he feels like he looks so much bigger than you in this, and he’ll never get tired of the vision of your eyes tearing up from how deep he’s fucking you

plus, he can block both your legs and arms, completely dominating you and holding you at his mercy, and that excites him very, very much

“Let’s find out how much you can take.”

this one is kind of a bonus :

the snow angel (maybe an unpopular opinion ? i have no idea tbh bhffrgd) ⟢ description : the receiver should lie on their back and have the giving partner straddle them, facing away. The receiver lifts their legs and wraps them around the giver’s back to elevate their pelvis so the giver can enter.

okay this one mostly applies for one single reason : prostate massage

you both might just rarely use this one, because miguel can’t see you nor mark anything than your legs (which he doesn't appreciate), however the possibility that you can finger his ass while he fucks you is an amazing feeling

the way he can bury himself inside of you while you hit his prostate so deliciously makes him moan uncontrollably

“Don’t stop… It’s so good when you touch me there.”

2K notes · View notes

thedevilspearl · 1 year

Text

➛ the good, the bad and the bratty

a/n: here it is!!! cowboy!diavolo surprised me because he was voted least out of the top three yet i found myself loving him so much that i couldn’t stop writing and it turned into a whole fic haha check out the other cowboys here!

tags: 2.0k words, cowboy!diavolo x female reader, bondage, spanking, brat taming, breeding kink, mild exhibitionism. minors do not interact!

diavolo had a busy morning rounding up the sheep that slipped through the fence during the night. he crept out of bed without waking you, leaving you with warm blankets and a kiss to your cheeks as he pulled on his jeans and shirt.

you’re an expert rider, better than him although he won’t admit it — stubborn cowboys never do no matter how sweet they are.

but not waking you up to catch the sheep with him wasn’t due to his pride but rather the fact that you were up all night riding something else entirely.

he had you slamming up and down on his cock for hours, grinding on him until you both passed out. his cock throbs at the memories and he adjusts his crotch in his tight jeans before fastening his belt.

diavolo sighs, wishing he could spend the morning walking the perimeter of the ranch on horseback with you beside him, but you tired yourself out last night. you deserve rest. and on top of that, he can only imagine how sore your pussy must be.

he’d be the devil if he asked you to sit on a saddle before fully recovering.

so at dawn, he ventures onto his land and mounts his horse to chase after the escaped sheep. it takes hours, but once rounded up, he works on fixing the fence and then checking on the cattle.

it isn’t until long after noon when he spots you coming down to the barn.

“hey, sweetie,” you mutter with a kiss to his lips. “why didn’t you wake me?”

you smirk at his eyes widening from your appearance. it’s a hot day so you opted for one of his flannels and a pair of cowboy boots. his shirt is baggy enough to cover you, but the only thing on his mind is whether or not you’re wearing anything under his shirt.

“thought ya needed some rest after last night,” he teases. “you worked so hard.”

“well, you work hard every day looking after the ranch.”

he chuckles lowly and you find yourself warming up at the sound.

“so, what’s the plan for the day?”

diavolo is about to tell you he did most of the work and the only thing you should be doing is resting, but his inconveniently friendly neighbours interrupt him.

“hey!” mammon calls with beelzebub following behind him. “you got hay?”

“what happened to yours?” dia quips.

“found mould in ‘em. can’t use it anymore.”

both cowboys tip their hats in your direction as greeting.

“mornin’, boys.” you beam.

“afternoon,” beel corrects you. “but i assume it’s morning for you.”

they both grin and wink at diavolo, knowing exactly what happened last night given your attire. and diavolo hates them for thinking about you like that.

“why don’t ya head back to the house?” diavolo leans in and suggests. “get something to eat.”

you know he means to say go put on some clothes. or at least stay away from these guys while you’re dressed like that. jealousy rises from his body and you read him easily.

perhaps it’s the exhaustion from last night, or maybe it’s due to the heat, but your brain is frazzled enough to make you want to disobey his request and piss him off. for some reason, making him more jealous sounds like a good idea.

“i already had breakfast.” you say and hop onto a pile of hay, crossing your legs so no one can peek up the little clothing you have on.

dia stares at you starstruck, silenced by your boldness. and the other two cowboys suffocate in the growing tension. beel’s eye’s wander around the room nervously, not landing on anything specific. and mammon lets out a long whistle.

“so….” he clicks his tongue. “the hay?”

“there’s more round back.” diavolo says without tearing his stern eyes from you. you cower under his gaze, knowing you may have gone too far.

when mammon and beel disappear behind the stable, you hop down from your pile of hay. you thought it would be hot to tease him in front of the others but it turned out awkward so you wander back to the house. but diavolo grabs you before you can make it two paces out of the door.

“what?” you ask with feigned innocence.

“you know what.”

“i don’t.”

he scoffs.

“are ya wearing anything under that?” he asks, and your silence is his answer.

he rips open your shirt, his shirt, and buttons go flying in all direction to reveal your naked body. your tits sit freely and your bare pussy was only inches away from being exposed if the shirt was lifted high enough.

and yet, you jumped on that pile of hay without a care in the world, without caring if his neighbours saw what only he is allowed to see. and it angers him in ways it shouldn’t.

“dia!” you push him away, but he doesn’t let go of the shirt and because of its huge size, it slips off your frame too easily.

the cowboy is stunned for a second, but he gulps and tips his hat in your direction, admiring your glowing body in the sunlight.

he was ready to scold you for acting so scantily in front of his friends, but instead of listening to logic, he listens to his cock. despite the hours and hours of fucking you did last night, it aches for more.

and what turns him on to a point of no return is your god damned boldness, not even trying to hide your perky breasts or pretty pussy. your stand before him with confidence he can only admire.

mammon and beel are minutes away from walking in on you wearing nothing but a pair of cowboy boots and diavolo feels inclined to teach you a lesson.

you would dare to be seen naked by anyone other than diavolo?

not on his watch.

your brattiness knows no bounds but you’ve certainly got him in the mood to tame it. to teach you that no one else is allowed to see your pretty, perfect body.

he very rarely uses the lasso he carries on his hip, but all of a sudden he feels inspired to use it.

“c’mere.”

you ignore him, drifting away further without looking back and acknowledging him. if you step outside any further, there’d be no doubt the others would see you.

“don’t ignore me. i told ya to c’mere.”

you turn around with sass, standing with your hand on your hip. “or what?” you follow his hand down to where it grazes against his loop of rope and your heart beats faster, and your pussy throbs.

“don’t make me use this on ya, sweetheart.”

you swallow thickly, feeling your body burn. the thought of him tying you up is provocative, but using his lasso on you?

it’s unexpectedly the sexiest thing you’ve ever imagined.

and he knows it too.

“you like the sound of that?” he smirks and takes big steps towards you. “i’m sick of ya acting like a brat, ‘specially in front of other guys. how about i teach my little cowgirl a lesson, hm?”

you bite your lips and he hovers above you, eyes raking all over your form.

“want me to tie you up and teach you a lesson, baby?”

you nod eagerly but maintain the daring brattiness in your glare.

“i want ya to say it, sweetheart.”

“yes,” you yip, a little too excitedly. “use it on me. tie me up and fuck me good, dia.”

your heart flutters as the corner of his lip twitches upwards, and your pussy clenches as diavolo moves swiftly. he spins you around grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, somehow rough and gentle at the same time. and with his other, he loosens his lasso before looping it around your wrists and pulling.

he then works some skilful magic to have your elbows touching together and the rope lacing around the length of your forearms.

it’s tight enough for you to be unable to fight against it. not that you’d want to.

your bound wrists rest on your lower back and he pulls you back into the barn, slamming the door behind him.

“what a fucking brat i’ve got,” he growls and bends you over on the pile of hay you were previously displaying yourself on. “wants to get fucked like an animal, huh?”

“yes, dia,” you moan. “wanna get fucked so good.”

you wiggle your ass in front of his crotch which earns a harsh slap on it. and then another.

“best be quiet or those assholes are gonna hear ya.”

you moan louder and lewder when he slaps your ass a third time.

“or don’t.”

diavolo wastes no more time in loosening his belt and pulling his cock from his jeans. it throbbed and ached all morning and now he can finally relieve himself by putting you in your place.

he grabs you by the rope, pulling you upright and pressing your ass against him.

“fucking brat,” he grunts rubbing against you. “was last night not enough, huh? greedy pussy’s got you acting up like a slut.”

you whine loudly, defiant against his words. his large hand lands on your ass again, causing you to yelp and your whole body to jolt from the impact. writhing to free yourself from the rope is a fruitless attempt, but diavolo enjoys the sight of you struggling.

“use your hands.” he orders.

you could ignore him, piss him off even more. but your pussy is so fucking desperate to be filled and battered by his huge cock that your brattiness slowly fades away and you follow his orders quickly.

it’s difficult to move in the position you’re in but with the little freedom your bound hands have, you arch into him and stroke his huge cock. “fuck, dia. you’re so big. want it in me so bad.”

“patience, brat,” he mutters and runs his hands up and down your body, squeezing your tits with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other. “gotta wait for them to come back.”

arousal leaks from your pussy and you continue jerking him off until the familiar footsteps in the gravel grow louder, and dia takes it as his signal to push you down on the hay again and slam his cock into your soaking pussy.

“fuck!” you scream as your pussy welcomes him in greedily. “dia!”

“you like that, huh? you like my cock?”

“yes, i love it!” you moan loudly, gasping for air against the hay. “i love your cock.”

“that’s right.”

he continues hitting you with thrust after thrust of his hips, the sound reverberating through the wooden walls of the barn. it may be muffled from the outside, but there is no doubt the others can’t hear you.

your pussy is still sensitive from last night, but more than eager to please diavolo’s cock as he drills your hole, slamming against all the right places. “ah! fuck, dia, i’m gonna cum!”

“you’re gonna cum? your bratty pussy’s gonna cum all over my cock?”

“yes!”

“fuck,” he gasps. “want me to cum in your pussy, hm? fill it up ’til ya can’t take no more?”

“yes! dia, please!”

“gonna fuckin’ breed ya.”

“do it, dia! do it!”

“gonna knock ya up, show ‘em all how good i fucked ya!” he groans. “gonna teach my brat a lesson and knock her up.”

your cries turn into fully incomprehensible moans, but he knows you want it as much as he does. you want him to mark your body in ways it’s never been marked before and claim you as his forever.

so while you babble away, you both rock against the hay with hot, sticky bodies and there’s nothing but steamy air and filthy words between you.

before you know it, your orgasm washes over you and your pussy tightens around his cock, causing him to spurt ropes of his cum into your pussy.

your pussy tightens, causing him to spurt ropes of cum into your pussy as you scream in delight; your orgasms instils pure bliss into your body, as it does to dia who lets out an animalistic growl as he fucks you both through the high.

“who fuckin’ owns this pussy?”

“you do! you own it, dia.” you mumble, barely able to form words with how much you’re moaning. “you own my pussy. you own me.”

“that’s right,” he grunts. “i fuckin’ own ya.”

with one last rut, he stills deep groan and leans over, panting above you and pressing soft along your shoulder as you gasp for air.

“your mine, brat.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x female reader #obey me smut #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo smut #diavolo smut #diavolo x reader

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dyeher · 5 months

Text

warnings| breeding, mentions of pregnancy.

notes| *maniacal laughter* unedited-read at your own risk. also, this would probably be iwa in a rut, if he were an alpha.

It’s the babydoll.

That’s the first clue. It’s a light blue and so incredibly sheer that the matching thong beneath is easily visible through the material. The lacy cups that should be holding your breasts are failing miserably if he’s being honest. He’s not complaining but, he’s confused.

Or he was.

Until the first breathy moan left you as you took your first bite of the cake on your plate. The sound had settled in the bit of Hajime’s stomach and unleashed a hoard of bees. He’s shifted, eyes flirting from the spilling flesh of your breasts to the sinful way your lips wrap around your fork and his brain had begun to melt.

“Uh- what’s the occasion?”

He bites his tongue when you blink lazily at him. If he didn’t know better he would have simply assumed your intentions were pure. But the overly innocent way you’d told him you just wanted to dress up was enough to have him squinting skeptically at you.

“Really?”

You pout and his cock jerks hard, a sudden vision of that perfect pout wrapped around his cock. You nod, shrugging delicately as you continue to devour your cake. Hajime takes a bite of his own dessert, eyeing you warily when you stand to take your plate to the sink. The babydoll flutters around the top of your thighs and Hajime swallows hard when you bend to put your plate in the dishwasher.

A little later when you’re cuddled on your couch together he senses a restlessness about you. It’s in the way you keep shifting against him. Rubbing your breasts against his chest, pressing soft kisses against his chin and jaw and throat. He’s not sure what’s gotten into you but it’s making him nervous. You’ve been horny before but you’ve always been straightforward about it. If Hajime didn’t know better he’d think you were trying to seduce him.

And though Hajime knows he should never look a gift horse in the mouth he’s a little apprehensive. He wants to know why.

So he asks.

And he regrets it immediately.

“I want you to get me pregnant,” you admit.

And yes, Hajime understands now why he should never look a gift horse in the mouth.

He almost asks you if you’re sure but you’re dressed in this slinky little babydoll, draped across his chest, peppering him with little kisses that go straight to his cock. It would be stupid to ask you that. And he’s not opposed to getting you pregnant. Nope.

In fact, the prospect of filling you with his cum sends an unfamiliar—but not unwelcome—surge of arousal through him.

At least, he thinks it’s arousal. He does.

Until he’s folded your thighs onto his shoulder and fucked you both sweaty and sticky and disoriented and you let that first plea out. That first “please give me a baby”. The unfamiliar—but not unwelcome—emotion surges through him again and he realizes it’s not arousal.

It’s something carnal and raw and possibly unidentified in the grand scheme of things but it makes the hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck stand on end. It reduces his cognitive functions to only the ones needed to keep fucking you into the mattress. He can barely speak, can barely think with the sudden overwhelming need to bury himself so deep inside you that you can never be separated again.

You’re squealing and you might be saying something but the roaring in his ears at the hypnotic fluttering of your pussy around his cock is deafening. Hajime is consumed by the sinful sucking of your walls as they coax his orgasm from him. As they wrestle his cum from him.

He cums with an undignified sound that he hopes you have no recollection of. Stars explode behind his eyelids—or maybe stars just explode because he doesn’t know if his eyes are closed or not. He shudders as you cum around him, your nails dig into the muscles in his back and arms, your breasts press against his chest until he realizes you’re trying to tug him closer. Like you’re trying to drag him deeper. He’s fairly certain if he shifts his cock any deeper you’ll end up in the ER. His cock gives one, two, three violent lurches as he cums.

And then his muscles go lax and he fully collapses on top of you, his cock still buried deep enough that he’s fairly certain he’s rammed himself into your honest to god cervix. He should be concerned but from your dopey smile and the way you’re petting his back he’s obviously not done any real damage to your insides. Though he thinks you might not be able to walk for a little bit. Hell he might not be able to walk.

That orgasm was like nothing he’s ever had. He feels as though he’s emptied his soul into your little pussy. Like you’ve reduced him to a breeding bull.

And maybe you have because fifteen minutes later he’s got his hands cupping your hips as he watches, mesmerized, while his cock disappears into your pussy over and over and over, slick from a ridiculous amount of your cum.

And then a little while later he pins you to the floor and fucks you again. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen; on the counter, against the fridge, on the floor.

“We have to get you nice and full if we want to get pregnant on the first try,” he tells you. It doesn’t even sound like him. Whoever this person is they desecrate every viable surface in your home.

Hajime doesn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed when you have to call in sick for work the next day.

----

#hq: beyablade.#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu

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fettuccin-e · 8 months

Text

Angel Incarnate

Kinktober Day 7: Soft and Slow

Tags: Javier Peña x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, really really light angst, domesticity, javi is finally happy guys okay (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Alright so this is so fluffy it hardly even feels like a kinktober prompt but y'know what javi has his dick out so it counts okay. anyway i had a really fun time writing this because i love it when sad characters are happy it brings me insurmountable joy (For the month I've been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Everything around him has always been so violent. His world has always been bloody and bruised and chaotic, and Javier had always supposed that it was just meant to be that way.

He didn’t deserve anything better than the angry pain of Bogatá. He’d hurt too many people, ripped apart too many lives to be redeemed, to deserve any kind of sweetness. His life boiled down to blood and tears, the endless race against the narcos too much to take anything slow. The only sex he had was rough and violent, just like his life, just like his soul.

Getting back to Laredo, to his father’s ranch, had been a kind of culture shock that he didn’t think he could experience anymore. The lack of gunfire, the lack of violence, day in and day out, had him reeling.

He’d tried burying himself in the work, fixing up his childhood home and tending to the cattle and the horses, hardly venturing into town at all. The people who knew Javi, the young man who left Laredo with a bride at the altar for a life as an agent, did not need to know Javier, the broken, hollow, shell of a man. He didn’t need their pity, their looks of confusion mixed with sympathy.

He regrets those first few months now, the ones that he spent hiding from the rest of the world. After all, the first time he went out into town, went into the only little library for miles, he found you.

And you, God, you’re so different. So kind and patient, even when he’s rough with you, even when he tries to push you away. It’s a kind of slow, soft sweetness that sings through his bones, that makes him feel human again.

You’re slow with him, gentle in a way that he hasn’t been treated in years. He feels precious here, with you, between the soft sheets of your shared bed, as you roll your hips on top of him, taking him slow and so deep inside of you.

He wants to grip your hips so hard they bruise, roll you over and slam into you until you’re sobbing and writhing from the pleasure of it. He wants to press your face into the pillows and fuck you hard into the mattress.

But he holds back, just like you want him to. Let yourself just feel, Javi, you had told him one day, after he’d taken control from you, just like he wants to right now. We don’t have to rush.

So he doesn’t. He brushes his hands along your waist, relishing in your soft skin as you drop yourself down on his cock, over and over again. You gasp as he stretches you apart.

“That’s it, baby, so beautiful for me,” Javier murmurs. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, whining as he guides you down to grind deep into your g-spot. “It’s so- it’s so good, Javi. You feel so big like this.”

Javier groans as you clench around him, tight and wet and fucking perfect. The soft morning light filters through the curtains you put up last week, illuminating your skin and enshrining you like an angel. You are an angel, he thinks, as close to heaven as he’ll ever get.

He leans up, searching for a kiss that you gladly grant him. He loves kissing you, licking into your mouth and tasting you as you moan for him.

You curl your hands into his hair, grown longer with his time away from the DEA. The one time he’d asked you about cutting it, you’d protested so hard he’d laughed for thirty minutes straight. He’d started letting it grow after that.

You lean back up, undulating your hips in a way that has him groaning, pulling on your hips to help you along.

“You want to cum, Javi?” you murmur, pulling him in so fucking deep his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Por favor, nena, si,” he gasps, and God, you’re the only one that can make him beg like this. To make him desperate like this.

“Come on, honey, fill me up,” you coo, and Javi is lost to it. His hips jerk up of their own accord, pumping into you involuntarily with his orgasm. He spills into you without the fear of knocking you up, knowing that there’s no violence, no uncertainty with you. A small, not-so-secret part of him actually hopes it’ll take.

You whine above him, pushing your hips down on him over and over, frantic for your climax. He reaches a hand between you both and rubs slow, hard circles into your clit, and fuck, the way you cum will always steal the breath from his lungs. Your eyes clench shut, your mouth exhaling a beautiful, melodic little moan as you rock yourself on his cock, working yourself through it.

“That’s it, beautiful, so fucking good to me, so pretty for me,” he husks, and you curl yourself over him, meeting his lips in a sticky-wet kiss that has you both desperate for more. He palms his hands over your back, pulling you down to rest on top of him as you both breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You both don’t move for a long time, content to bask in each other’s warmth as the morning sun rises, bringing another day to spend together. It’s a kind of peace, a kind of contentment, he’d thought was a pipe dream for so, so long.

“How did I ever find you?” He murmurs into the quiet of the room. You tilt your head up from where it rests on his chest to smile softly at him. He feels like he could drown in your gaze.

“I think we were always meant to find each other,” you whisper, and like always, he knows you’re right.

#oh sweet javi love of my life #let me fix you #and also fuck you #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javi pena x reader #javi pena x you #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut

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lustspren · 1 year

Text

Red Hot Sloppy Christmas ft Karina.

length: 4.7k words✦

Karina & Male Reader.

genres: elf karina, oily sex, titjob, blowjob, master kink, breeding ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Christmas was your favorite time of the year by far, you loved the atmosphere in the streets, you loved the freezing weather, perfect for snuggling up in a blanket at home with some hot chocolate, accompanied by the colorful lights on your tree.

It was Christmas Eve, you had gone out to dinner with your work colleagues to receive Christmas together; the experience was incredible, you drank, ate like a king, and exchanged gifts with your friends. The night seemed to get no better, but a very pleasant surprise awaited you at home.

You arrived at your apartment at about 1 in the morning, the jingle of your keys echoing through the hallway as you opened the door. You took off your trench coat as soon as you entered and closed the door behind you, hanging it on the coat rack to your right; you also took off your shoes, which you placed carefully on the carpet. You felt the floor much colder than normal, even with your socks on, that surprised you, you used to leave the air conditioning on, but never during this time, and the temperatures definitely didn't get that low. Your body also quickly succumbed to the cold, causing you to shiver; you frowned and walked into the living room, turned on the light, and almost didn't have a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" you screamed, scared, "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?"

Sitting on the floor under your Christmas tree was probably the most beautiful girl you had seen in a long time, her raven hair was long and silky, with bangs that made her eyes stand out; she was wearing a sexy short Christmas strapless dress, black heeled boots that reached below her knees, and a choker of the same color with a small bow tie and a tiny jingle bell. And her ears… were they… pointy? Like an…?

"Oh, you finally arrived master!" she said with a smile from ear to ear, to get up and wipe her behind with her hands.

"M-Master?" you said nervously, without moving an inch of your body, "No, no, wait, answer my question, who the hell are you?"

"An elf, of course," she replied innocently, taking a few steps towards you with her hands behind her back, "and your Christmas present, for being such a good man all year."

"No no no no, this is ridiculous," you shook your head, "tell me the truth, and tell me how the hell did you get in here?"

"I'm telling you the truth, master," she moved even closer to you, now she was only two steps away, but you took a step back, still keeping your distance, "I already told you, I'm an elf, and I went sent here just to serve you, how I got in, or rather, how I appeared here, is not relevant."

"How do I know you're really an elf and not some crazy person trying to kill me?" you refused to believe any of it, your Christmas spirit was strong, but not that strong.

"Don't you think my little ears are enough evidence?" she turned her head slightly to the side, showing you her pretty pointy ears.

"They could be prosthetics," you replied skeptically.

She put her hands to her ears, pulling them several times with her fingers to show you that they were real.

"Very well, they are not."

"And in case you need another proof..." she snapped her fingers, making a small wooden horse appear between the two of you, your eyes widened, and then she snapped her fingers again, causing the horse to vanish into a cloud of snowflakes, which swirled around you and then disappeared.

"My god, you really are… real," you muttered, looking her up and down. Among all the amazement you had not stopped to detail her attributes, her big tits looked incredible, contained by the top of her dress, which was making a great effort not to fall off, and her legs were long and creamy, she really was beautiful in every way possible, you were quickly enraptured.

"Yes! Very real, master," she smiled excitedly, taking a long step forward to stand in front of you.

"So... you're here to serve me, you say," you tried to meet her eyes, which by the way were sapphire blue, but your gaze was distracted by the deep cleavage that herself had highlighted by clasping her arms in front of her, and of course, her bare shoulders and incredibly attractive clavicle weren't far behind, "in what way?"

"Well… that's up to you," she closed the distance between the two of you by wrapping her arms around your neck, which made you feel her boobs against your chest. You froze on the spot, and never so literally, because her arms felt as cold as ice, but that touch was enough to light your fireplace.

"First of all, do you have a name?" you asked, still not touching her.

"Well, you can call me Karina, master," she just looked into your eyes, which increasingly conveyed less innocent intentions.

"Very good Karina..." you raised your hands behind her, feeling her smooth back and then her shoulders with your fingertips, "If you were sent to serve me, I think you know very well everything I want right now, don't you?"

"Oh, of course I do, master," Karina let go of your neck and carefully lowered herself to her knees, “something like this, maybe?” she was teasing you, with a mischievous little smirk on her face.

"Yeah, just that, go ahead, cutie," you nodded toward the growing bulge in your pants.

"As you command, master," Karina completely transformed when she said that, her mischievous smile disappeared, but her eyes were still those of a woman who only wanted to please you. Her face turned leering, her mouth slightly open as she brought her hand straight to your cock through your pants; she stroked it slowly, with firm squeezes from time to time; it wasn't until the bulge was rock hard that she buried her face in it, giving little kisses that made you bite your lip.

She seemed to have received special training exclusively for this, her touch was perfect, delicate, firm and sexy, just like her kisses. Her strokes on your cock continued for a few long seconds, and she didn't stop until she saw a small stain on your pants, that led her to take off your pants, she just had to undo the button, zip it down, and pull your pants and your boxer down to your ankles, freeing your throbbing cock, who automatically was exposed to the cold air, that made you shiver.

"Oh, is it really cold master? It's my fault, sorry," Karina wrapped her icy fingers around your shaft carefully, giving it a few slow strokes, you winced at how cold it felt, "but don't worry, there are places on my body that could be quite warm to you."

Saying this she took you directly to her mouth, she took half of your cock, giving it the warmth she had promised you, you gasped, as she began to bob her head slowly and torturously. Your cock got slippery almost immediately, she knew very well what she was doing, she used her tongue in the perfect way at the perfect moments, and the movements of her head were exquisitely complemented by her silky lips moving all over your meat. You moaned several times because of how good the sensual blowjob she was giving you felt, Karina noticed it and she also moaned a couple times on your shaft, as if she was turned on by the mere fact of pleasing you.

Two of her fingers wrapped around the base of your cock, which gave her free rein to take more than half of your shaft into her mouth, now taking you completely with each pump of her head. Your face twisted in pleasure as you let out a long moan, Karina's face also distorted as she became more and more aroused, causing her to look at you with eyes shining with lust. She didn't move faster at any time, she did everything nice and slow, that only confirmed to you that the slutty elf knew everything you liked. Her drool began to spill drop by drop from each side of her mouth, you felt like you were going to cum soon, so you only gave her a few more seconds until you finally stopped her.

"Stop, Karina," you affectionately separated her from your cock, she looked at you somewhat disconcerted, her breathing agitated and her cheeks flushed.

"Did something happen, teacher?" she asked innocently.

"Get naked, right now, but keep the boots, and the necklace," you ordered, taking a step back.

She raised her hand to snap her fingers and make her clothes disappear, but you stopped her immediately.

"No, do it yourself, no magic, be a good elf," you ordered, releasing her wrist.

"Yes, master," she nodded with a small smile, then stood up.

Her hands went to the top edge of her dress and she began to slowly lower it, revealing her cleavage inch by inch until she finally freed her milky pair of tits. You were mesmerized by how gorgeous and delicious they looked, if you were to compare them to fruits, they would definitely be a pair of perfectly round and firm melons. But it didn't end there, she kept lowering her dress all over her body until she reached her ankles, then she simply left the dress on the ground and took two steps forward to get out of it. You didn't realize it at the time, but your jaw dropped a little at how impressed you were by her body, which was hot as fuck, deliciously toned in every possible place, but not really muscled.

"Do you like my body, master? I worked it with a lot of love just for you," Karina asked with her hands behind her back.

"I love it, you really are… beautiful," you said, slightly flushed with lust, that's how men were rewarded for being good during the year, huh? "But you're forgetting something," you glanced at her pine green panties, which you could easily tell how soaked they were.

Karina complied with the order, also taking off her panties and throwing them next to the dress. Now you had an outrageously beautiful elf from the north pole naked in front of you, and you were going to fuck her, surreal.

"Is that better, master?" you wanted to see her massage her tits, which she did within seconds of you thinking about it, which didn't even surprise you due to her qualities. She did it very slowly, bringing them together whenever she could.

"Much better honey, now come here," you took off the rest of your clothes in a matter of seconds, ignoring the low temperatures as it was contrasted by how hot your body was. You took her waist with both hands and pressed her against your body, this time her tits flattened against your chest, and your cock flat against her creamy tummy. She wrapped her arms around your neck, and that was your green light to finally kiss her.

You didn't even have 10 seconds in the kiss when you knew it was being the best kiss of your entire life, her lips tasted delicious, and her lips felt like two cotton balls because of how soft they were. Your tongue invaded her mouth, and she received it between small moans and gasps; your hands ran through her soft body, caressing her back, her lower waist, her hips and making a small stop on her ass to give each buttock a strong squeeze. Karina tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, making little caresses with that hand and giving slow strokes to your hard cock with the other one.

The fact that she knew everything you thought was a great advantage, because you could take advantage of it, you wanted her to climb onto your torso and wrap your legs around you, and she did so, with a little jump so that you only had to hold her. You continued kissing her, this time feeling how the tip of your cock brushed from time to time against her wet slit.

You took her to your room, whose door you opened awkwardly because your eyes were more closed than open, but when you were inside the first thing you did was sit with her on the edge of the bed, now she was on your lap, and her pussy was pressing directly against your throbbing cock. Karina attached to you even stronger, as she slightly moved her hips to rub against you, that's when a magnificent idea came to you.

"Hey, you know what I want right now… don't you?" you said pulling away from the kiss, looking into her eyes, which seemed to light up like two pretty streetlights. Her answer was obvious, and you didn't need to tell her, but you wanted to make sure.

"Sure, master, and I must say I love it," she replied with a giggle, then snapped her fingers and made a bottle of massage oil appear in her hand.

"My god, you really are amazing," that was the last thing you said before Karina opened the bottle and poured a small amount of the oil on your cock and on her tits so that it also spread on your chest, soon the rubbing between the two intimacies it became much easier and stickier, which made it feel even better.

"Well... I told you, master," she murmured against your lips, in a raspy, lecherous tone, "I was very well trained for this… to please you."

You kissed her again, but this time the kiss lasted much less, you couldn't concentrate when her two soft, oiled tits rubbed against you.

Once again, Karina read your mind and got off your lap to kneel between your legs. She then took both of her tits with her hands and began to massage them.

"You want my tits around your dick, don't you master?" she asked as she looked into your eyes.

"I don't need to answer that, do I?" you brought your hand to her cheek and caressed it with your thumb.

"No, of course not," she smiled, taking the bottle of oil and pouring it once more, this time in larger amounts on her breasts, your thighs, your abdomen and your cock, at the same time that she was in charge of spreading it herself.

Without much else to do Karina began to concentrate on the main task, she put the jar on the floor, and took your cock to position it between her two mounds, she joined one first, and then the other, until your shaft was part of a slippery and shiny meat sandwich. You didn't bother to hold back the audible moan that escaped your lips as her tits warmed you so well.

She wasted no time in moving up and down, your cock appearing and disappearing with each stroke. You leaned back slightly, resting your hands on the mattress and crumpling the sheets; your senses went completely crazy while Karina gave you the best titjob you could ever have, you moaned, and you put your hand on the elf's neck out of pure instinct, but that only prompted her to lower her neck a little and pull out her tongue, so when her tits came down, her tongue would meet your tip.

"Oh my fucking god," you gasped, closing your eyes for a second, your mouth parted. Karina began to move faster and faster, until she was at the perfect speed that you enjoyed the most. Your pre-cum of hers was spilling every second that passed, but the elf picked it up almost immediately with her soft tongue, from which she also dripped saliva onto her tits.

"Am I doing well, master? Do you like it?" she asked, biting her lip, continuing to move her tits up and down. Her voice forced you to open your eyes and meet her gaze, and you didn't know if you were hallucinating, but you could swear that her blue eyes sparkled for a second.

"Fuck, I love it, just keep going please..." you managed to reply between gasping breaths.

"You're about to cum, aren't you? Master wants to cum on my pretty tits, doesn't he?" After saying that, Karina lowered her neck again, this time sucking the tip of your cock with each pumping of her tits.

You didn't have long to cum, but as soon as she said those words you couldn't contain yourself, and as a result, you exploded. Long and voluminous streams of cum shot out of your cock, one of them inside her mouth, but the rest went straight to her tits, since Karina had taken your cock and aimed it at them while she jerked you very slowly, draining each drop of your thick liquid. You moaned and moaned with your eyes closed, and it wasn't until a few long seconds later that your orgasm stopped.

It took you a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you admired the beautiful painting you had done on her tits, not only shiny from the oil, but now also from your cum.

Karina's face was flushed, and her breathing was also agitated, but for different reasons, she was just as horny as you or more. She scooped up all the cum she could with her hands and then licked herself up, swallowing all of your scent.

"Fuck come here, I want to eat those tits," you growled, grabbing her shoulders to get her to her feet and onto your lap again. You buried your face in her tits immediately, one nipple to your mouth, and then the other, licking and sucking on both like you were a baby who hasn't nursed in weeks. Karina put her hands on your neck and pressed your face even more against her mounds; she was enjoying it, because again she was moving her hips against your cock, making it rub against her pussy between small desperate moans.

"Ah... do you like them that much, master?" she gasped, as you continued to feast on her perfect pair of tits.

"I love them," you replied, giving each mound a firm squeeze, "but right now, I want to make you cum."

Karina climbed off your lap and onto the bed, then lay on her back with her legs open for you, stroking her inner thighs. She looked at you with a mischievous smile, and then she took off her boots, which she had been wearing all this time.

"Oh, you want to do things that messy, don't you, master?" she asked, you cursed inwardly, the fact that she could read your mind was also a scary thing.

"Yeah honey, so do your thing," you said after picking up the bottle of oil from the floor and going to kneel next to her body. Karina snapped her fingers, and a waterproof plastic blanket appeared on the bed, "good girl."

You got to work, pouring oil and spreading it all over her body in a kind of spontaneous massage, which you specifically concentrated on her legs and crotch, where you rubbed your hands continuously without touching her pussy completely. Then you went to her tits one more time, just to give them a few strokes and squeezes; you lay down next to Karina and crashed your lips against hers in a more torrid and passionate kiss, to make her separate her legs as much as possible and start rubbing her slit with your fingers.

Karina pulled you by the neck and made you stick your torso against her side, so she could feel your body rubbing against hers as you quickly stimulated her clit. She moaned against your lips, clinging to your neck with one hand and your shoulder with the other; she slightly squirmed on the slippery blanket, but she always kept her legs wide open in a very obedient manner, so you decided to up the ante, sticking two fingers inside her tight pussy.

"Master! Oh fuck!" she moaned aloud, pulling away from the kiss. She looked at you with her blue eyes, and you just took in admiring her gorgeous face as she moaned from the two fingers pumping in and out of her, hard enough to make the oil splatter from the crash of your palm against her pube.

You kept pumping your fingers for a long time without lowering the intensity for a single second, you licked her tits, sucked on her nipples, kissed her neck, and bit her jawline several times, all to be able to see that beautiful girl gone crazy with pleasure. Your labors paid off, because after a few seconds she caught your hand between her thighs, which clenched violently while the pretty elf had her first orgasm of the night. The bedroom was filled with her tender moans, and her fingers clung to your hair. Your hand remained trapped between her soft thighs until Karina's body relaxed, that's when her legs fell outstretched.

"Master... I know you want to you want to fuck me, please fuck me," she begged between small sighs.

"You know I do, but I want you up first," you gave her little kisses on the cheek and one last peck on her lips before laying down next to her. Karina got up with some difficulty and knelt down next to you, and just like you did a few minutes ago, she grabbed the bottle of oil and began to put it all over your body. She focused especially on your cock, which she stroked with her palm a few times before taking it between her fingers and beginning to rub it up and down. Her handjob made you hard in just an instant, that gave her the green light to straddle your abdomen.

There you two were, both bodies slippery and shiny, and Karina looking fucking gorgeous on top of you. She flopped forward, her face on top of yours, and her tits flattened against your chest; she reached back with one of her hands, taking your cock in one hand to rub the tip of it against her slit several times, seconds later, she lined it up with her pussy and completely impaled on your flesh with just one thrust.

You both moaned at the same time, you from feeling the overwhelming warmth of her pussy walls around your cock and her from having a big chunk of meat shoved deep inside. Karina clung to your shoulders as best as she could because of how slippery your skin and hers were, and began to move her hips at a considerable pace on your cock, which was moving in and out of her pussy with a delicious and pleasurable ease. Your lips and hers met once more, with your tongues as the main protagonists this time; Karina's hands went from your shoulders to your neck, holding it gently while she moved her hips expertly; her tits were continually rubbing against your chest thanks to her movements, back and forth all the time. You had never had sex like that, but you could be sure that it was the best sexual experience of your life, the contact felt much more intimate and passionate, and the shiny touch on your skin added a sexier touch to your bodies.

"Stop, honey, you know what to do," you gasped as you pulled away from the kiss. Karina didn't say anything, she just got off of you and lay on her back with her legs open, you got up and positioned yourself between them, to put your cock back into her slippery pussy.

You leaned forward, and without thinking twice you began to fuck Karina as she deserved, making her tits bounce with each thrust you gave. You held her legs back, reaching even deeper into her wet pussy; she moaned louder, and your mind went into a trance-like state where you could only go higher and higher.

"Just like that master! Fuck me hard! Use me like the pretty toy that I am!" she begged between beautiful whimpers, while you gave her exactly what she asked for, strong and deep thrusts that almost didn’t pin her against her mattress.

The bed soon began to shake together because of the intense fucking you were giving her, Karina's tits were moving uncontrollably, and you decided to change position to be able to do something about it; you turned her body on her side from the hips down, and on her back from the hips up, that way you could grab her tits freely while you continued pouding her pussy.

"I'm going to cum inside you, are you okay with that, Karina?" in this new position your left hand was clinging to her waist, pressing her hard with your fingers, while the other hand was on her tits, either massaging them or pinching her nipples.

"You can cum anywhere on my body you want, master!" Karina's eyes were crystallized, about to cry because of how good she felt.

You stopped once more, this time to lie down next to her but without leaving her pussy, her back was now pressed against your chest, and your face was right next to hers; you wrapped one arm under her neck and the other between her tits, enveloping her in a warm, sticky embrace as you thrust frantically inside her. Karina turned her head to give you just a little kiss, because all she wanted was to look into your eyes while she cupped the side of your face with her hand.

"Fill me with your seed master, please... please!" she begged between moans and shrieks.

You didn't need her to tell you again. You went back to the trance of a few minutes ago, your right hand grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it hard, making it shake violently as a result of your thrusts. You don't know how much time passed, it could have been seconds or minutes, but your orgasm hit you like a category 5 hurricane. You moaned into Karina's ear, shooting your entire load into her silky cunt, but that only made the elf cum for the second time, now you two were prisoners of the spasms that mercilessly shook your bodies. Your thrusts became slow, not stopping until every little drop of your cum was perfectly planted inside her. She kept on overcoming her orgasm, so her pussy didn't let you go for a few seconds.

Silence took over the bedroom for a long time, in which you and Karina were perfectly coupled chest to back. You were the first to speak.

"You… you can't stay, right?" you asked innocently in a mutter.

Karina snapped her fingers, making the plastic blanket disappear under you, and not only that, making your bodies dry again. You couldn't do anything but thank her mentally, now you could feel the creamy softness of her skin. She turned around, and hugged you with one arm and one leg.

"I'm sorry but... no, I can't," she said with a sad smile, "when the sun starts to rise, I'll have to go home."

"Does that mean you can at least sleep over with me?" you took her chin with your fingers, giving her a little kiss.

"Yeah, sure master," she smiled, then kissed you back, "but hey, if you're still a good boy next year, I'll be back."

"Believe me, I'll be the best of boys every year to see you again," her blue eyes gave a nice sparkle again, that made you smile.

"Maybe I'll take you to my home for a visit, who knows?" she shrugged.

"To see the little sapling I just planted inside you already born?" you joked. Dumb.

"Yes, that's right," she said, more convinced than you'd like. You saw her frowning, and she simply closed her eyes, sinking her face on your neck, "rest well, master... until next year."

———————————

SPREN NOTES:

Well, now, this is the last smut of the year, finally! It is the Christmas gift that I leave you, since I will be a little inactive during these days for obvious reasons. I hope you enjoy it!

Don’t forget to support me on ko-fi if you want! https://ko-fi.com/lustspren.

#smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #kpop fanfic #karina smut #aespa smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #male reader

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ghosties--writing · 8 months

Text

Farmer! 141 members + konig, alejandro, and rudy x reader (What I think about them)

Cw: Talk of sex and pregnancy towards the end.

Ok, I imagine that all Farmer! 141 members + konig, alejandro, and rudy live in the victorian era. Maybe it's around 1776 where all you could really do to make a living is farming, being a silversmith, being a blacksmith, being a tailor, being a gunsmith, or being a teacher.

Obviously none of them are going to be a teacher or a tailor but I could see them being a blacksmith, silversmith, a gunsmith and a farmer.

Maybe the pick up the art of blacksmith and silversmith for their farm, maybe they start making horse shoes for their horses or they start doing it so they can make their own stuff so they don't have to pay for it.

I imagine that the relationship between you and them is like a "traditional" victorian relationship.

The man goes out to work while the woman stays home and washes clothes, makes food, watches kids (if there are any), tends to the house, things of that nature.

Maybe you even go and help out with the farm obviously you don't do anything too laborus because they would hate for their pretty girl to get hurt.

They would much rather you stay inside and make them delicious food that they get to enjoy with their pretty girl when they come in at the end of the day.

Or maybe they would rather have you as a little trophy wife of some sorts.

They show you off to their other friends who are farmers saying that you are the best because you are always making them delicious foods to enjoy.

Or how their darling always looks out for them and make sure that they have clean clothes to wear the next day.

Maybe if you have kids they start talking about you more, bragging about how their darling makes such good babies and how you take care of his kids so good.

How they are always on your hip while your cooking or laying beside you on a blanket outside as you wash clothes.

How you never let their babies go hungry and how you are always on top of things at home.

They are just boasting about you to the other farmers.

They want the other farmers to be jealous of what he has.

He wants them to be jealous that their wife isn't nearly as good as his.

He also keeps you happy, if you want something he will do whatever needs to be done to get you whatever you want.

You want a new dress? you got it. New shoes? They are there at your bed side the next morning. Clothes line breaks? There is a new one up before the end of the day. Need an ingredient for a meal but don't have it and it's not something that's around the farm? Don't worry about it, he'll go down to town to get whatever is needed from the market, bonus to that he'll get double of whatever you needed so you have extra just in case.

If you both go into town and he notices you looking at the other women who are carrying babies or if he notices you looking at baby clothes, you best believe that when you both get home he won't wait till you get into the bed room.

He'll push you up against a table or a chair maybe a sofa, as he kisses you and starts to lift up your dress.

He's roughly whispering into your ear about how he'll breed you so good, and how you'll be a better mother than the women you saw down at the market.

He'll talk about how he'll give you as many kids as you want and how your body will be so pretty carrying his kids and how you'll be so pretty breast feeding his kids as he ruts into you.

After a couple weeks maybe even months of him coming home from farming at night and fucking you with the promise of making you a mother you finally find out your pregnant.

Maybe it's about the time your period comes but it doesn't so you start to have suspensions because your never late, maybe you notice your stomach is getting bigger or rounder, or maybe you start to get sick around the same time every morning like clock work and that's how you find out.

Maybe once you find out you go into town by yourself or maybe you have one of his farm hands with you after you made him promise not to tell him that your pregnant.

Either way you go into town to buy a baby romper and a matching bonnet with a cute blue green baby blanket.

When you get back home you hide the baby clothes and blanket in a basket and you start to make dinner for him and his farm hands.

After dinner you get him alone and hand him the basket, after he sees what's in the basket he's ecstatic. He gets to have a kid and his beautiful wife gets to have a baby to look after.

Masterlist

Please give me more to write about them, I am literally obsessed with the idea of Farmer! CoD characters.

Feed back is welcomed.

I do not condone my work being published on any platform or to be translated in any way.

Reblogs welcome.

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marihoneywk · 7 months

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A dragon's ambition

Jacaerys Velaryon x older stepsister - one shot

Summary: Growing up under her father's influence in the Red Keep, Alysanne becomes determined to claim the Iron Throne. Feeling the sting of being overlooked and fuelled by ambition, Alysanne hatches a plan that involves the seduction of the heir to throne, her stepbrother Jacaerys, who also happens to be her half-sister's betrothed.

Warnings: incest (stepsiblings that are cousins), sexual content, p in v, tiddy succin, breeding kink, some fluff, third person narrative, oc is manipulative.

Word count: 3.8 k

Alysanne Targaryen was the oldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Conceived in the only night Lady Rhea Royce and Daemon spent together, Alysanne wasn’t a desired child, as her mother secretly tried to end the pregnancy.

However, Alysanne was tough and stubborn since the womb and came into the world crying so loud, the whole Vale could hear her.

Daemon welcomed his daughter to live with him in the Red Keep upon her third name day, raising her in his own ways, educating her to be cunning and fearless.

Alysanne had grown up to be her father’s female version, a thing that scared Daemon. Her sharp mind aligned with her ethereal looks, made a dangerous combination that didn’t let any man escape. With her sweet eyes and big eyelashes, not even the guards were able to refuse a single request she made, crumbling immediately to her pleads.

Alysanne liked her sisters, Baela and Rhaena, but didn’t love them. They were nice and fun to be around, but she couldn’t stop wandering if perhaps her life would be better, if they weren’t around.

She also liked to believe she was her father’s favourite daughter, even if she wasn’t sure. It was only fair right? Baela and Rhaena had their own mother to favour them, while Alysanne only had Daemon. Her mother had a brief presence in her life, dying in a tragic accident with her horse three moons before Alysanne moved to Kings Landing.

Alysanne’s life was pleasant enough, but then, Lady Laena Velaryon died and Baela and Rhaena were also left with only one parent.

They just seemed to want everything Alysanne had.

First, they played dress up with her gowns, then they ate all her honey cakes at breakfast and then finally got her father’s attention to themselves, as Daemon focused more on the twins, supporting then through their grief.

Then, Rhaenyra came and married her father.

Alysanne liked Rhaenyra though. She let the girl use her earrings and necklaces, and even gifted her some dresses from her younger years. But what Alysanne liked the most about her new stepmother was the fact that she was set to be next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, making Alysanne feel like she could just touch the Iron Throne

As a result of being raised in the Red Keep until moving to Pentos, Alysanne quickly learned the power of that seat.

Even if she didn’t understand how Viserys got there, as an ant and him had the same skills to be king, every time he passed by her in the halls, she could not divert her eyes from the shining crown on top of his balding head. Suddenly her dreams were filled with images of her sitting in the Iron Trone, wearing long bright dresses and matching jewels.

Alysanne and her family had just come back from the capital, landing victoriously in Dragonstone after securing Lucerys’ inheritance of Driftmark.

However, Alysanne couldn’t be madder. It had been announced to everyone the official betrothal of Lucerys and Rhaena, and Jacaerys and Baela.

How could her father and stepmother do this to her? She was the first Daemon’s daughter to become of age to wed, and they had just putted her aside, betrothing her younger sister to the future king of the Seven Kingdoms.

Jacaerys and Alysanne weren’t very close, as the two-year age gap between them didn’t align their interests with each other. It was a small difference of age, but Jace was a typically childish boy, which contrasted with the more mature personally of the girl.

Of all her siblings, she preferred the younger ones, Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys.

Their small age made it easier to shape their small minds into Alysanne’s likings. The girl quickly became their favourite sister as she would be the one that spent more time with them, playing, reading, and teaching them everything that she valued. Joffrey became so attached to the girl’s presence in his daily activities, that sometimes he would cry in his bed for her, and as a good sister, Alysanne would leave her chambers and put the boy to sleep with kisses on the forehead and loving lullabies.

Daemon had called Alysanne into his study , noticing the annoyed expression that hadn’t left his daughter’s face the whole trip to Dragonstone.

“What’s wrong with you? You are acting different since last night.” Daemon asked looking directly into Alysanne’s eyes.

Alysanne wondered if she should tell her father what she was thinking exactly. Daemon liked honesty but she wasn’t sure if honesty was the right path to follow in this conversation.

“Why are Baela and Rhaena getting married before me?” Not exactly the centre of the matter that was bothering her, but it was close.

Daemon laughed, not believing his daughter’s bad mood was caused by her sisters betrothals.

“Do you want a wedding for yourself, daughter? I didn’t know you were so eager to be attached to a man and to be popping out heirs.” Alysanne only rolled her eyes, not having the patience to her father’s typical comments. “I don’t understand your little tantrum Alysanne, if anything you should be thankful you don’t have to marry yet. But if you really are that desperate to get wed, Cregan Stark’s wife just passed away. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a Targaryen beauty like you being given to him.”

Alysanne immediately laughed in her father’s face, letting the anger that was slowing boiling beneath her skin finally snap.

“No!” She yelled, slamming her hands down on the wodden desk that stood in the middle of the room.

“No?” Daemon repeated, not expecting her outburst.

“How is that fair? Baela gets to be queen, and I get send away to freeze in the North?” Her loud voice echoed through the chambers, as Alysanne couldn’t believe her father’s suggestion.”I’m the oldest girl! I’m your oldest daughter, I should be the one getting my ass cozy in the throne! Not Baela!” She screamed and pointed her indicator finger to her father in an accusing manner.

Daemon was shocked but without hesitation jumped in defence of his other daugther.

“You’re not going to speak about Baela like that again! Do you hear me Alysanne?!” Daemon’s shook her shoulders, letting his temper take the best of him.

Alysanne felt her eyes water and her throat itch, as she tried to contain the sobs she was holding back. Her father had never screamed at her, and not once he had directed his anger towards her like that.

The feeling of injustice settled once again on Alysanne’s chest, hurting like the sobs in her throat.

“You’re going to inherit Runestone, isn’t that great already?” Daemon asked rhetorically and left the room they had entered, slamming the door on his way making Alysanne shudder.

“Why have only Runestone when you can have all the Seven Kingdoms…” She whispered to the empty office as the tears finally fell from her eyes.

Alysanne had one goal: be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And to accomplish that goal, she traced a plan that involved betraying her half-sister and her father.

It would hurt, because she loved her father very much, but lately Daemon had been so distant from Alysanne and so close to Baela, that she didn’t feel that terrible doing it.

Jacaerys was sitting in the beach of Dragonstone playing with little Viserys in the sand. Alysanne got closer and started an innocent conversation.

“Hello Jace.” She smiled gracefully at him.

“Hi Aly.” He returned the jest, turning his attention to young boy next to him as he tried to stand to the sight of Alysanne.

“Hello to you too my love.” Viserys immediately put his little chubby arms in the air, begging for his sister to pick him up, showing his small teeth in a smile.

Alysanne bended over to pick up the babe, making sure she aligned the low neckline of her dress with Jacaerys’ eyesight.

She turned to the older boy, now with the younger one on her right hip, and notice his red cheeks and the bobbing of his throat.

“How are you feeling brother?” Alysanne asked.

“A-, what-… what do you mean?” He was nervous. Like she had caught him doing something bad.

“About the betrothal, Jace. How are you feeling now that you are about the be a married man?”

“I’m content Aly, Baela is a kind and nice girl. It could be a lot worse.“

Alysanne knew he was being honest. Baela and Jacaerys were really good friends, and considering the Westerosi history in arranged marriages, she agreed that he definitely could have gotten worse.

“Do you think she will make a fine Queen?” She questioned him while sitting on the sand next to him, putting Viserys in her lap.

“With Daemon and my mother educating her, I don’t see how she could ever do wrong.”

Alysanne started playing innocently with a curl on the side of Jacaerys' head, twirling it on her fingers. She pretended to not notice the chill on his neck and moved her hand to massage the curls on the top of his hair.

“I agree with you brother, Baela would be a nice Queen. But would she be a nice Queen to you?”

“I don’t understand Aly.” Jacaerys was getting flustered, getting distracted from the conversation as the girl's hands played so smoothly with his hair and her breasts were sitting so prettily in a pink dress.

“A Queen should not only serve the realm, but should also serve her husband, the King. You know that right?” From his expression, it was clear that Jacaerys still wasn’t getting Alysanne’s point. “The marital bed is how Queens serve their Kings, brother. By giving them pleasure.” Alysanne smirked seeing Jacaerys’ blushed cheeks, laughing lightly when he avoided looking at her eyes.

It was the middle of the night, and the castle was sleeping peacefully, except for Alysanne, who was just leaving her chambers, wearing nothing but her thin nightgown. Tiptoeing carefully on the stone floors to not alert any guards, she made her way to a room she had been very few times.

Opening and closing the door quietly, she let her eyes wander through the dark chambers, stopping on the big bed and on the dark tuff of hair resting on the pillows. Jacaerys was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of his sister’s presence in his room.

Alysanne made her way to the bed, seating behind Jacaerys’ back, leaning carefully in his ear.

“Jace…” She whispered while letting her index finger wander through his neck.

The boy started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly trying to adjust to the lack of light.

“Alysanne?” He interrogated turning his body to face her.

“I think I saw a spider in my room. Can I sleep with you tonight Jace?” Alysanne pouted, batting her eyelashes the best she could, but the doubt in Jacaerys’ eyes was still visible.

“Aly, I don’t think it’s appropriate. If somebody catches you, we might get in trouble.”

As much as his words were denying her, Alysanne noticed how his eyes went down to her nipples, that had perked due to coldness of the space, and were now very visible through her white nightgown.

“Please Jace.” She pleaded, putting her hands his shoulders. “The spider was very big, and you know how scared I am of bugs.”

“Fine, but you have to leave before the morning comes.”

“Thank you Jace, you the best brother.” Alysanne kissed his cheek, making her breasts collide with his chest, and even in the dark atmosphere of the room, she could very much recognize his blushing look.

Alysanne got under the covers, making herself comfortable on the second pillow of the bed. At first, she gave Jacaerys some distance, but as the minutes passed, she slowly began to move herself close to the boy. She was facing him, observing his closed eyes, and almost laughed at his failed attempt to pretend to sleep.

Alysanne once again, let her fingers wander through his chest, following the patterns of his garment.

“Aly…go to sleep” Jacaerys mumbled with his eyes still closed.

“I’m trying Jacey…”

Alysanne lifted her right foot, making a gentle path up and down in his leg, not going up above the knee.

Jacaerys stopped her foot from continuing to move, holding it tightly with his hand.

“What are you doing Alysanne?” He said as he finally opened his eyes, giving her a serious look.

“I’m just caressing my brother. I like to make you feel good.” She muttered, now rubbing his leg with the foot that wasn’t trapped in his hand.

Jacaerys closed his eyes once again, but this time doing it as mechanism to calm himself. Alysanne moved her eyes down the covers, espying the bulge on the boy’s breeches. She bitted her lip and drawn her face close to his, letting their noses touch slightly.

Alysanne could feel his warm but shaky breath, also smelling the scent of lavender in his hair.

“Jace, let me make you feel good tonight…” Jacaerys whole body got chills, as the girl whispered and started to kiss his neck, making a trail to his jaw.

“Aly-, I- “He hummed, moving his hand from her foot, tightening his grip on her ankle.” I’m betrothed do Baela, and I can’t let yourself be ruined for your future husband.”

“I appreciate your concern for my reputation brother, but I’m not a maiden anymore.”

Alysanne didn’t let Jacaerys make any questions, biting his neck roughly which led to a loud grunt echoing through the room.

“Carefully Jacey, you don’t mommy Rhaenyra to catch us don’t you? Or worse, my father and my sister. Can you imagine?” She said licking the spot behind his ear.

Jacaerys just shook his head and surrendered to whatever Alysanne planned to do with him.

Alysanne switched positions, straddling him with her legs, seating right on top of his erect cock. Jacaerys moaned and the girl took his hands putting them across her hips.

“Do you want to see me bare brother? Do you wish to see and touch my soft skin?”

“Yes, Aly…yes.” His hands tensed around her hips, and Alysanne moved them again, letting them rest against her rear. Jacaerys immediately groaned, hardening his grip, possibly leaving bruises on her skin.

Alysanne rubbed herself against Jacaerys’ bulge, and because her only piece of clothing was a nightgown, the only thing separating them was his breeches, causing both to moan at the contact.

The room was getting hotter, with the heavy breathing and sweat that started to glisten in their bodies warming up the atmosphere.

Jacaerys’ eyes were close, and his head empty of thoughts, the mere feeling of his stepsister’s cunt making him dumb.

Alysanne´s hands moved to the straps of her nightgown, pushing them down just enough to show her tits.

“Jacey, open your eyes my love.” She whispered in his ear and the boy followed her request, coming to immediate disbelief, not expecting Alysanne’s bust to be right in front his face.

“Can I?” He asked nervously, not having the courage to express in full words what he wanted to say exactly.

The girl nodded, and carefully, Jace moved his hands touching Alysanne’s tits like they were a fragile piece of glass. She chuckled teasingly as his index fingers made round movements around her nipples.

“You can go harder you know? I’m not a doll.”

Jacaerys, hearing her words, gripped both of her breasts roughly, and as a moan left his stepsister’s mouth, he got even harder, felling like the fabric of his breeches was about to rip.

Alysanne grabbed his hair, pushing his head close to her chest. “Suck them brother.”

He widened his eyes, taking some seconds to fully process her words, and Alysanne, with her lack of patience, pulled his hair harder with her fingers, moving his head forcefully in the direction her tits.

If Jacaerys got uncomfortable with the sudden lack of delicacy of his stepsister, he didn’t show it, as he immediately opened his mouth and sucked on Alysanne’s left breast like a hungry babe.

“Fuck…You are so good Jace. Can´t believe I only discovered you now.” The Targaryen girl opened her mouth in silent moans, never once stopping her hips from moving against her stepbrother’s lap.

Jacaerys felt like his cock was going to explode. Never once in his life he had been this hard.

He had noticed Alysanne’s looks before, always having to look away when the siblings would go for a swim in the beach of Dragonstone, and her shift would stick to her body, giving him a perfect view of her bottom and chest. He was still in disbelief, but the feeling of guilt or treason had vanished from his head since he felt her bare cunt against him.

Alysanne moved Jace’s head again, withdrawing his mouth from her breast, making a thin thread of spit connect to her nipple. His eyebrows raised in a frown, as he didn’t like that he got stopped, until the girl carefully raised her hips, and slowly started to unlace his breaches.

“Are you ready brother?” She questioned and the boy nodded without hesitation, eager to finally feel her pussy fully around him.

Alysanne was pleasantly surprised upon the sight of her stepbrother’s cock. With only a handful of sexual experiences with one of the knights of the Dragonstone, Jacaerys’ manhood was big in length and width. Alysanne debuted her hand could fully close around it.

Before pushing her hips down again, the girl took her nightgown off, throwing it to some corner of the room.

Her cunt was glistening with wetness, making Jacaerys grunt at the sight.

Alysanne pushed one finger inside of her, whining at the feeling, only to pull it out and slowly press her wet and shiny digit to Jace’s lips.

The boy didn’t expect this action, but quickly let the surprise get away and instead allowed the curiosity to take hold of him. Opening his mouth carefully, he licked the wet substance that was touching his lips, being interrupted as Alysanne shoved her wet finger inside in mouth. Just like he did with her nipple, Jacaerys sucked like his life depended on it, loving the sweet taste of his stepsister in his mouth. It was sweater than any dessert he had ever tasted, and more addicting than any wine in the Seven Kingdoms.

The Targaryen girl chuckled amused with this moment, proceeding to leave delicate kisses on his neck.

Taking her finger of Jacaerys’ mouth, Alysanne connected her gaze with his, as she aligned his cock with her cunt, finally sinking down.

Both moaned loudly at the sensation. Alysanne felt full to a point of pain, and Jacaerys felt a tight and warm embrace in his manhood, that it was close enough to make him come.

“Fuck Jacey.” Alysanne pulled their lips together in a lustful and passionate kiss. It was hungry and desperate, both chasing each other’s tongue, not worrying about syncing the movements.

Alysanne started to move her hips, first at a slow pace, wanting to adjust to her stepbrother large cock, but Jacaerys was already impatient and wanted more. Groaning, he took hold of her hips, and pressed her down more on him. Alysanne felt like she could sob from pleasure, and moved her hips faster, making herself and Jace see stars.

“Aly you feel so good.” He moaned breathy, pressing small kisses on her tits.

The bed moved against the stone wall, making a noise that echoed through the room, but not high enough that could silence their sounds of pleasure.

Alysanne, feeling her leg muscles starting to get tired, slowed down a little, and Jace, sensing that, began to move his own hips upwards, thrusting into Alysanne´s pussy without mercy.

The girl’s eyes watered as his cock touched that spot, forcing her to bite into Jacaerys’ shoulder to prevent the scream that was about to leave her mouth from waking their family up.

They exchange gazes, and Jacaerys thought he was seeing an angle, upon the sight of Alysanne´s face. Her silver long hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flustered and red, but what really mesmerised him were her teary violet eyes and swollen lips. If he was meant to go to one of the seven heavens, he was sure they would never be more beautiful than this view.

Seeing his deep stare, Alysanne smiled softly and pressed a small kiss on Jacaerys’ lips.

“I’m close Aly.” He said making a low sound that rattled in his throat.

“Come inside me Jacey. Please brother.” She begged and the boy was quick to nod in agreement, but Alysanne could still see the hesitation in his eyes. She pushed Jace against the mattress, taking command of the pace again, and with all her strength, she rode Jace like the dragonrider she was.

“Gods...” He whispered, one hand on her back and the other on her ass, squeezing it tightly.

Fire burned in Alysanne’s belly, as her climax was also approaching. She moved her hand down, reaching for her cunt and toyed with her clit, wanting to reach the orgasm together with Jace.

Alysanne pressed her forehead with his, the sweat sticking their hair together, and Jacaerys’ brown eyes widen with adoration.

He felt like this was meant to be, Alysanne’s deep violet eyes looking into his and his hands worshiping every piece of her skin. He wasn´t sure if should be thanking the gods for her existence, as in the moment she was a goddess herself.

“Come on brother, let me give you a sweet babe with dark hair.” As this sentence left Alysanne´s mouth, Jacaerys’ was unable to hold it anymore and with a trembling heart, he lifted his large palm, and slapped the girl’s ass forcefully, immediately leaving a red bruise. Alysanne gasped, and finally, together, both reached their release. Alysanne clung to him, coming with a loud cry, and Jacaerys buried his face on her neck, muffling a deep moan into her skin.

Alysanne felt the warm release of her stepbrother filling her, and smiled, allowing her hips to continue moving, wanting to prolong both of their pleasure.

“Fuck...” Jace’s tired voice spoke as he carefully withdrawn her from his lap.

Alysanne moved to his side, putting her head in his chest and looked directly into his eyes.

“Did you enjoy it?” She questioned teasingly.

“What do you think?” The boy laughed and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

The silence that now filled the room was an extreme contrast to the loud atmosphere that was bursting moments before.

Alysanne got what she wanted, and the happiness of being able to accomplish her goal, mixed with the pleasure she had felt, had brought her to a state of bliss.

Jacaerys on the other hand, was now contemplating his future. If his betrothal to Baela wasn´t important some minutes ago, now it was a screaming thought in his head.

When the betrothal was announced, he never for once got sad about it, with Baela being a kind and beautiful girl. But now, after having Alysanne in his arms, he knew that entire years of a marriage with Baela wouldn’t bring him the happiness he felt in a single night with Alysanne.

#jacaerys velaryon x oc #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys Velaryon x original female character #jacaerys x oc

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moodymisty · 2 months

Note

Shawty PLEASSSSEEEEEE give us some general headcanons for Jagahatai Khan (with maybe a little nsfw if ur feeling generous)

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: sure thing homie, we all love our White Scars primarch.

Relationships: Jaghatai Khan/Fem!Reader (because of two prompts mentioning pregnancy)

Warnings: NSFW, Tokophobia/pregnancy mentions but other than that nothing

SFW

One of Jaghatai's favorite activities (while yes his jetbike go zoom) is to accompany you as you ride one of the horses. While he might be too big for them now, he still enjoys walking beside you, either holding the horse's reins as you take in Chogoris' atmosphere, or just watching you play around.

Would rather kneel to your level than pick you up. Though he sometimes picks you up and puts you on things to be at his level, which everyone of course finds hilarious. The Khan and his tiny beloved, his legion jokes.

Is one of the less stuck up primarchs, and is more willing to be affectionate. Particularly snarky comments will often get you a teasing kiss on the temple.

Given the sheer size difference you normally sit on his thigh, or on the front half of his jetbike.

If you're not native to Chogoris, he definitely enjoys it if you attempt to learn about his home planet. It's often regarded as barbaric and not important in the grand scheme of the Imperium (other than having been the homeplace of a primarch) so having his beloved adopt some of the culture or even the language definitely means quite a bit to him.

NSFW

While he does genuinely enjoy those horseback rides with you, a large reason why he does is how he can take those moments to have a moment truly alone with you. It's not uncommon at all for him to go out, leave his legion and everyone else behind and just roam the plains with you. You'll both return hours later, and your clothes are far more disheveled than they were before, covered in grass stains, and you're sitting oddly on horseback. You usually retreat to your private quarters after that, and Jaghatai remains in a much better mood than he was before.

One of the few primarchs that actually doesn't mind not being a power top every now again. Don't get him wrong he's still completely in control, his hands grip your hips like a vice as you ride him and he knows you'll waver under his voice, but he doesn't mind leaning back and letting you work for it a bit.

He knows he can go fast, but he loves to sometimes be painstakingly slow. Watching you crack from frustration into fully begging him to fuck you faster and harder is like wine to him.

While everyone says that Horus is the one with the breeding kink, I think Jaghatai is up there as well. It’s just a feeling.

Sometimes when his mind wanders while you’re asleep he imagines the soft swell of your belly, and how he’d love to watch you struggle to ride him with it.

#jaghatai khan x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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emry-stars-art · 11 months

Note

Massarati was a courting gift to andrew from abram after he realized they were courting one another

My face reading this omggggggg

(Gonna put this up top instead of at the end; find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕)

So this is the 4800 words of fluff; @jtl-fics was bouncing a LOT of ideas with me about it and everything was so sweet 😭🥰 you can read it here! :D or continue on this post for the sparknotes version from Abram's pov (minus the picnic date tho 👀), and let’s showcase my inexperience with horses ✨

THIS IS GREAT I done got myself a little by making Maserati a rescue case… like Abram’s probably right about what happened to her though I didn’t fully decide on it (I’m also making up everything about horse breeds in this universe thank youuu). He’s out one day for whatever reason and comes across this horse in no pasture that’s tall, clearly made for working, but it’s far too skinny. A little skiddish, but not enough that Abram can’t approach after a while of trying. It’s a familiar breed under the dirt and malnutrition.

He doesn’t even bother seeing where it might have come from. He fashions a makeshift lasso/bridle thing from rope and takes a few hours calming the horse enough to bring it back with him to the castle, leaving it in one of the smaller/less used stables with plenty of food and water before going to find Day or someone else that might be able to help. She doesn’t look impressive at first, obviously. But with lots of help and lots of time from Abram taken in secret to the stables, she slowly starts to get better. She gains weight, she gets readjusted to people, she lets him take care of her coat and hair.

At some point, Andrew insists once again on keeping Abram nearby when Abram is having a worse night than usual. Panicking easily, generally unwell. (Andrew is also wondering why Abram is suddenly spending so much time away, why he won’t tell Andrew where he’s been or what he’s doing. It’s completely in his right to do it, so Andrew never forces the issue, but it’s such an obvious switch from his normal behavior. Right when Andrew thought he could start leaning into the courting, it feels like Abram is pulling away and it hurts a little. He gets worried.) Abram can’t sleep, and Andrew won’t sleep until Abram does, so they lay on his bed with Andrew resting against Abram’s lap, relaxing or reading or tracing scars with his fingertips. It’s a long while before Abram asks, unprompted, “Did you ever have an ideal horse?”

Andrew gives him a look.

“I mean… a dream horse. Maybe when you were little, something you always wanted.”

Andrew makes a small noise. “I think most kids do.”

“Right. So did you?”

It takes more convincing than that, lots of Abram assuring Andrew that it’s not stupid, he’s just curious. He’ll tell Andrew his next. And finally Andrew tells Abram of when he was young, living with the Spears, and would fantasize about being anywhere else. He’d take a horse as black as night so no one would see him when he ran away, a horse that was strong and fast enough to take him wherever he wanted to go. He used to imagine it would carry two, so he could take his governess with him, but that was before she left. It was all child’s play, anyway. It didn’t matter now. (Abram’s horse wasn’t so detailed, but he said if he had to pick a coat color, he was very happy with the blue roan he was given.)

So the next time Abram goes to the stable he looks at her, sees how well she’s bulking up, sees again how much larger she is than the Friesians he’s used to from Evermore. She looks even stronger than those already capable horses. When she’s healthy she can certainly carry two riders and more besides, and her endurance is like the horse equivalent of his own. Her coat is getting shiny again, sleek like black oil.

When she’s healthy and ready, Abram trains her. He again has help, of course - there are people who’s jobs it is to take care of and train the castle’s horses and it isn’t him - but she has an undeniable soft spot for Abram. They get her used to being fully decked out in nice tack and equipment and whatever else. Abram holds her steady to get shoed. The veterinarians/au equivalent make sure she stays healthy and the stable master grows more impressed with her every day. She’s not your average horse, he tells Abram. She’s smart. There’s real intelligence in those eyes.

Abram could not be happier.

By the time the twins’ birthday comes around she is ready to go. Abram spends the morning before his work begins making sure she is as sparkling as he can get her, all ready for her favorite stable hand to take her to the main stables later while Abram attends the prince at the festivities. The stable hand is going to put her in her new tack, too, the beautiful white set Abram spent a good chunk of coin to have commissioned. The horse is perfectly well mannered around people now, though only Abram and a handful others can ride her. Abram only plans his evening because he knows she lets anyone ride alongside him - if Abram deems them worthy, the horse won’t protest. It isn’t trust he ever takes lightly. He’s pretty certain she’ll end up allowing Andrew every privilege she allows Abram. He is so excited and so, so nervous for that night. She’s as perfect as she could possibly be, but Andrew has gotten Abram so many wonderful gifts. This is the first time Abram has returned the favor with such intention. Hopefully it’s good enough. (She is.)

Oh also in case you’re wondering. Andrew only needs a new horse because his beloved GS was finally retired, GS is old and now gets to spend the rest of his days in nice pastures where Andrew feeds him lots of treats 💕 every like is one sugar cube gods bless

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sunnylands-world · 11 months

Text

Western boy

Pairing: cowboy Harry styles x fem reader

Summary: your little crush on your father's best friend finally turns into what you always wanted it to...

Word count: 1,186

Warnings: oral [fem receiving], unprotected p in v [don't be dump please], dirty talk, tummy bulge kink, breeding kink, age gap, western themes

A/n: I don't know if I have any readers for Harry styles but here's this fic again because I deleted it

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You and your friend were taking a stroll to the market in your town. The dust of the desert seemed to blow heavily despite the heat that scorched your skin; your boots looked like your father hadn't taken them to get a decent scrub in a while and your hat sat tilted on your head protecting your eyes from the rays of the sun.

"dear God [name], how much farther I honestly think I'll melt if I have to take another step!" your friend groaned and you chuckled. "It's a beautiful day out daisy, I think it's perfect for a walk. You act as if you ain't walked a day in your life." you called back to her. "But you're father's the sheriff! surely we could have gotten a ride, why ever didn't you ask." She whined and you rolled your eyes.

Your father was indeed the sheriff, people in town considered you a daddy's girl who was spoiled despite the fact that you hadn't been seen bathing in the finest things. You took a few steps before familiar brown leather boots on horseback caught your eye and a small smile came to your face. "My, my if it isn't the chief's little girl" his voice said as the sound of horseshoes came in closer, stopping you in your tracks. "Hello to you Mr. Styles" you said looking at him.

Harry was your father's best friend, you practically grew up with him in your life; his hair was cut nicely though you did miss the long locks under his brown cowboy hat. His smirk spread wide as he shamelessly looked you over, you bit your lip thinking about how much he'd done that lately. "I must say, you've grown up to be a fine young lady. Pretty as a flower!" he praises and you shyly smile. "You're not too bad yourself Harry" you complimented and there was no lie in your words.

Harry was at least in his late 30's or early 40's and he definitely aged a lot better than most men out here, he looked like he was a favorite of the lord's with his brown curls and shimmering green eyes and his facial hair suited him deliciously might you add. "Shouldn't go around telling a man like me somethin like that doll, I might just think you're offering me something" he breathed out, letting his eyes linger a while on your open top showing your perky breasts.

"Maybe I am styles" you challenged. "Don't go making promises you can't keep" he mumbled and you locked eyes with him. "I ain't making promises styles, I'm offering" you say and your eyes are genuine. He smirks. "Go home daisy, I'm taking your friend for a ride" he says, reaching his hand out for you to climb up the brown horse.

Your friend huffs heading for the stairs of the nearest place for alcohol and you cling to Harry's back as you ride to his home.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Your back rested on the queen size bed as Harry knelt down between your legs that were bent upwards so he could lap at your dripping cunt. Your dress was long gone and your hands grabbed handfuls of your breasts as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the older man. "You taste as sweet as pie doll, dripping your sweet juices for me" Harry said, as he let his tongue thrust into you.

"Oh God Harry" you cried out, bucking your hips up chasing your high desperately, his nose bumped your clit with every jerk of your waist and his stubble scratched an itch you never knew you had. "That's it doll, cum for me, make a mess" he says, dipping his tongue deeply into you, licking at your soft walls assaulting the sensitive area between your legs. You followed his order like the good girl you were drenching him with shouts of his name. He didn't stop slurping and sucking till he gathered every last drop of your release.

He stood with his knees now between your thighs, leaning forward kissing your forehead gently. "You still with me sugar?" He asked, seeing your lashes flutter a bit but you nodded. "Still with you Harry" you uttered softly, hazy from your first orgasm. "I'm gonna fill you up sweetness, you okay with that. Want me to stuff you full" he confirmed, his little comment at the end only made you all the more eager for him. "Yess Harry, please" you begged, dry humping his jeans.

He let out a chuckle, pulling at the loop of his belt that was adored with all his many gadgets. You couldn't help but look as he freed his cock. It leaked precum from the swollen red tip, his size was at least a good six or seven inches and you almost shut your legs as you thought of how something so big would fit inside you. He came forward rubbing the head of his length between your wet folds teasing your entrance.

"Please don't tease me Harry," you pleaded far to in need of fulfilling your fantasies. "Since you asked so nicely" he said, driving his cock deep in your tight wet opening, your head went back into his pillows as you felt him touch the spot deepest inside you. "Oh my goodness Harry!" You called into the room as he began to move in a back and forth motion, his hands pressing your legs to your chest; the bed rocking against the wall.

"Would you look at that, my cocks deep in your little tummy" he said letting one of your legs go causing you to grab it as he pressed his hand down where his cock was supposedly visible. You leaned up on your elbows to look and sure enough a bulge was there in the place his hand was. Your eyes went wide as you moved your own hand to take the place of his while he rutted into you, you looked up to his now forest green eyes.

"God, that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. You looking all innocent while I take you like a little whore" he mumbles, his head falling back as he quickens his paces. "Wanna fill this pussy up with my cum, get ya nice and round with babies." He says, his country accent is clear as day. "That's what ya want sweetness?" He asks looking back at you, you hold eye contact with him nodding.

"Please Harry, need it" you whine rolling your hips and that seems to be what pushes him over the edge as he fills you with warm cum triggering your second climax of the night.."holy fuck doll take it fucking take my cock" he moans with his legs trembling as he falls forward baring his head in your neck, sweaty chest pressed to yours.

You kiss his neck tenderly while you cum on his cock with your own words of nonsense. You don't even think about the reaction your father will have while you snuggle closer to Harry with him still deep in you.

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#harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles x singer!reader #harry x reader #cowboy #smut

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h-emera · 10 months

Text

Guide on making custom coat presets. (Allows for better quality custom coats)

31/08/2023: The guide has been updated to reflect a step I missed - when exporting your custom textures, make sure to select "generate mipmaps", the step is reflected in more detail under the appropriate part. Ctrl+f and enter "mipmaps" to skip to it.

16/10/2023: Updated to add more info re: generating hash ID's.

Okay, I decided to throw this together. There's some things I can't figure out still, but oh well, we're just getting through this as we go.

To clarify what I mean - this is not a stencil or a brush.

This will appear here:

To preface this guide though, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to make it appear as an individual option in-game, so, these are considered SWATCHES of the original coats.

Okay, with that out of the way.

Things you'll need:

Sims 4 Studio

GIMP

Probably Notepad, but it's optional on how easy it is for you to track things.

Guide:

These are the tools we'll be using in S4S.

Start by creating your empty package, once you're done, open up Game File Cruiser:

before you do ANYTHING, make absolutely sure that the search bar below the file list has "EP14" in it, otherwise you will 100% end up editing a cat or a dog coat pattern and that's now what we want, at all.

Add the first horse file to your package

In our case, it's the Lusitano Dapple coat, don't worry, if you're making a breed-specific coat, you can change this later.

Now that it's been added to our package file, it should look like this:

We now have two options, I'll explain this to those who don't care about creating a game-generated thumbnail and want to find it easier.

To make your "test" thumbnail, you'll want to copy the instance ID of the file we just added to our package:

It should look like this, the instance ID should be in 2nd from the top search bar, then, select all and click filter (it just makes life easier than finding the specific file type).

These are the current, in-game CAS thumbnails. We'll add both of them to the package, they're for ponies and adult horses.

Now you can export these two pictures (They need to be saved as .png's), edit them as you'd like and then import them back into the package.

Now, you CAN add up to 5 different pelt layers that can be easily recoloured in-game, however, we'll only be working with two pelt layers in this tutorial, because it's a tutorial and you'll learn how to make more of them anyway.

Click on "Pet Coat Pattern" and then look over the data:

From there, Click on "PetPeltLayers":

The first pelt layer is ALWAYS a solid colour, we'll begin by copying the LayerID (Instance ID) and going back to game file cruiser.

Just like previously, you should keep EP14 in the search bar and just use the instance ID bar to find things, as that's all we'll be doing.

Add the Pet Pelt Layer to your package file, then, copy the "texture key" from the Pet Pelt Layer:

Then find the Texture Key:

This is the solid colour layer, it HAS to be there as this is what will help you edit your base colour. Add this to your package file.

Now, our package file will look like this:

Unfortunately, we're not done, just yet, we'll want to grab at least the second PetPeltLayer:

Just like before, we're going to copy the ID and find the Pet Pelt Layer + the Texture for this layer:

Now, our package file will look like this:

You can now go ahead and close the Game File Cruiser, we won't be using it anymore.

Right now, this is our package file and we need to do some cleanup first.

We'll be opening up the PetPeltLayers once more and we'll remove the last 3 entries:

You should be left with only two entries, as that is what we'll be editing (leaving the other 3 will break the preset).

Now, we'll start generating new hash codes for everything:

Edited 16/10/2023: When generating your hash ID's, please use your creator name ie.: "[YourCreatorName/Blogname]TutorialPetBreedCoatPattern11", this will give you a more unique hash code than hoping to be as descriptive as possible when generating the hashes (in this case instance ID's).

Thanks to Mizore Yukii for this advice, from Creator's Musings discord.

As in my previous guides, be descriptive with what you're typing there and then just change the last number.

The process is annoying and slow, so bear with the images, and follow along.

The TextureKey coloured in red is the 3rd ID you'll generate, it's what links the texture to the Pet Pelt Layer, which links it to the Pattern we're creating. (Sorry for the squished thumbnail, open it in your browser, I was running out of picture space for the rest of the tutorial lol).

And now we repeat this for the second Pet Pelt Layer.

Now, if you want the game to just generate the thumbnail for you, you can skip this step, if you want to make a custom thumbnail, then copy the Pet Coat Pattern Instance ID into the two Thumbnails we've added to our package file:

This is what the package file has to look like at this point.

Now is the relatively easy part, editing the second RLE 2 Image. We won't touch the base, because it's not necessary.

I recommend using the Horse Diffuse Map as a base when you're drawing your pattern. It'll be easier to see what you're doing. You can download it here: Horse Diffuse Map.

Remember, that your pattern HAS to be white, black space is IGNORED by the game and considered a "transparent" layer, so that you can see the layer beneath the you're working on.

This is my quick, and lazy test one I've made, I use a PNG of the Diffuse Map as a base and on a separate layer I draw with white coloured brushes:

You may notice the very straight lines on the diffuse map - make sure to colour OVER them as if you do not, it will appear in-game because those are the seams where the mesh "meets"

Once you're satisfied with your pattern, you can go to export, just make sure that the white pattern is on a separate layer to the diffuse map. At this point you can add a black background underneath the white and export.

All you have to do is export the RLE2 Image you've edited as a DDS image in the L8 format and (edited 31/08/2023) select "Generate mipmaps" otherwise you will experience a glitch in-game where the coat disappears. You can leave the mipmap options as default, it should work correctly.

Then, we're going to import it into our package and save our package:

Remember to not touch the completely white base coat!

Now that this is over, we'll go back to Pet Coat Pattern and edit some settings.

The first three settings is what I recommend changing around. The first setting changes the breed, the second setting changes how the coat pattern is labeled and the third setting changes the colour it's tagged under.

Only change "TagValue" - it will give you a dropdown menu, don't change anything else. The TagValueNumber changes automatically, so don't worry about it.

EDITED TO ADD:

Additionally, don't forget to go into "PetPeltLayer" and change the colours, this is what will show up as "base" colour that you can change in-game. You can change them for every PeltLayerData file you have.

Now, save and go test it out in game:

Bada bing, bada boom we've got our "custom" coat preset.

If I've forgotten anything, let me know. This took me 2 hours to write, so forgive my typos. If anything is unclear, let me know. I ran into a struggle with the picture limit on Tumblr (found out that it's 30, I should move my guides somewhere else, but where?)

#The Sims 4 #Sims 4 #The Sims 4 Horses #The Sims 4 Pets #the sims 4 horse ranch #the sims 4 guide #sims 4 guide #sims 4 custom content guide #sims 4 horses guide

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triplesilverstar · 8 months

Text

Day 24

Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Beastman Bull Knives X F!Reader

CW: Bad pick up lines, Drinking, bad flirting, grinding, wall sex, Penis in vagina sex, breeding kink, dirty talk

Word count: 3294

A/N: Day 24, You went to the bar because of a rumor about two bull beastmen working at a cowboy themed one. Maybe you’ll get lucky and get to ride one of them.

When you heard about the bar you had to laugh, sure beastmen weren’t that uncommon anymore and society was still sort of adjusting to them. There would always be some bigots in the world, but, to hear about a western bar that had two bull beastmen working the bar? Yea right. There were tropes and then there were tropes.

You’d even made a bet with one of your friends, and upon entering the door you were out twenty bucks.

Stood right behind the bar were the two bull beastmen, and you had to admit they were both pretty cute. Blond hair, pretty blue eyes that were different shades, with their cow ears twitching and black horns sticking out of their heads. With the way they were dressed, it was easy to tell they were well paid to be behind the bar. One of them even had a tag clipped to his ear and a collar with a bell attached like he was a cow instead of a bull.

His skin tight black shirt wasn’t helping either, showing off a very nice built body, at the bar it didn’t take you long to learn they were twins. The smaller of the two seemed far more friendly as he served drinks, or maybe he was better at getting tips then his twin.

You’d learned their names were Vash and Kni, and you’d had to turn away to keep from snorting upon hearing the name Vash. Sure, your french was rusty but what kind of cruel parent names one of their kids that happens to be a beastman bull, a name that sounds a lot like vache, the french word for cow?

As the night wore on you found yourself watching the more built twin from the corner of your eye, damn he was handsome, and something about those glacial eyes made you horny beyond belief. Swallowing your shot you deadpanned “I’m gonna ask what it takes to ride that bull.” Met by groans of disbelief from your friends, but you aren’t deterred.

As you order a beer and Kni hands it to you after you pay you raise an eyebrow “you look like a bull made for the rodeo, how about we see how long it takes you to buck me off?”

Kni raises an eyebrow in return “funny. You look more like a clown than a cowboy, but then again.” Leaning across the bar to whisper low in your ear “the cowboys are smart enough to know to start on top before they get in the ring.”

Well. It’s not a flat out no. You get the feeling he’s heard similar lines before and is used to sending people like you off in a flushed mess. “Every clown has to start somewhere. Besides, maybe I’m the kinda gal who just likes it bareback.”

That gets you a snort “bareback is for horses. Not bulls. I guess you are a clown then.” There is a hint of a smile on his face now, and you think he might be enjoying himself. Leaning back behind the bar, watching to see if any of the other patrons are looking for a drink.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ve never been shown the time of my life before?” Taking a swig of your beer and watching that smile grow into a grin.

“Alright. I’ll make you a deal” hanging on his every word as he leans across the bar again pointing at a mechanical bull. “Make it for three minutes and I’ll let you take me home.”

Licking your lips you look him up and down, “and if I can’t make it?”

He just shrugs, nodding as he’s flagged down by another patron at the bar “guess you’ll prove you’re the clown.”

That leaves you laughing, heading towards it and looking for the guy who operates it. The bar thankfully doesn’t go silent as people try the mechanical bull, otherwise the first time when it starts up and you’re thrown right away you would have been beyond embarrassed.

The second time, you fare a little better getting to thirty three seconds before being thrown and landing on your face near the padded floor. You aren’t a quitter though, told for liability sake you get a third chance but that’s it. Breathing deep you try to relax, if it’s like a horse it makes more sense to try and just let it move you instead of fighting.

This time you’re laughing as the bull bucks and turns, feeling parts of your stomach being left behind and you think based on how long you’ve held on for you made it when you’re finally thrown off. Looking at the timer you feel your face fall, one minute fifty nine seconds. You had another full minute to go, a hand clapped to your back from the worker telling you good try. Heading back to the bar you notice Kni watching and you simply shrug your shoulders “looks like I’m the clown after all. Thanks for being a good sport with the flirting, guess I’ll go hang my head in shame.” Reaching across the bar to give him a handshake after admitting defeat.

Feeling your eyebrows furrow when he presses something into your hand “maybe next time.” He agrees, grinning at you. Once you’re back at the table with your friends who are laughing at you, you look at the item he’d passed you.

I’m off in an hour if you want that riding lesson.

His little message has a number scratched beside it, pulling out your phone and sending it a text, watching Kni pick up his own from the bar and looking out over the crowd. Once his eyes are on you he winks, and sends a wink emoji to your phone before putting it back in his pocket.

An hour later you come up with an excuse telling your friends you’re sore from being thrown off the mechanical bull. Being told it serves you right for trying to flirt like that, and once outside you see him leaning against the side of the building with a hat and jacket to hide his work outfit. “Ready for that riding lesson?” A smirk across his face and you don’t need to worry about the chill in the air with how warm you are both from the booze running in your system and growing in your core.

“You betcha.” A smirk of your own firmly in place, watching him push himself off from the wall, and without the bar in the way you see his tail twitching. “So. Thought I wasn’t gonna get to take you home unless I made it to three minutes.” You question following his steps as he heads down the sidewalk. You were curious when he gave you the note, having expected that to be the end of it.

“Sure. I didn’t tell you I was gonna take you home if you made it two. One second short was close enough. Honestly, most give up after they get thrown the first time, so you might have piqued my interest.” You laugh, throwing your head back following behind him, making comments as the two of you walk.

Ten minutes later and you’re outside his apartment door, waiting and watching that tail of his twitch again while he unlocks the door. Once open he’s waving you inside “nice place you g-” as the door clicks closed and he locks it you find yourself up in the air and his mouth on yours as he slams you against the door his hands kneading your ass. Moaning your hands grasping his shoulders as the two of you are quick to deepen the kiss, hoping you don’t taste too much like all the liquor you’ve drank tonight.

While you’re making out, your hands start to wander pressing and pinching against his skin, breaking from the kiss when your fingers hit the cow bell attached to the collar he’s still wearing. Looking at and realizing he’s staring at you, lust reflecting clear in those ice blue eyes “right. Riding lesson.” It’s muttered against the skin of your chin like he’d forgotten about it, keeping you in the air as he heads for his bedroom. You don’t miss the way he holds you up, braced under one arm so his hand can wander along your backside giving it a few pinches. You use the time to tease the skin of his neck not hidden away by his shirt or the collar, licking and leaving small hickies in the wake of your sucking. Hands reaching up to rub at the horns atop his head giving them the lightest of tugs, and this time he’s the one laughing.

“I can’t feel anything when you grab them.” Pausing in his groping of your skin to push the door open, making sure when his hand lands on your back once more he’s pushing you forward so you’re rubbing against his front. And damn. From what you can feel he has to be hung like a horse. Or in this case a bull. “Something tells me you’re far more interested in that part of me instead of my horns however.”

“In my defense, the rest of you is pretty cute too.” Punctuating your words by pressing a quick kiss just under his earlobe before blowing on the sensitive skin, watching as it bends and twists trying to get away from the air blowing against it.

Giving your ass a squeeze before pressing your back against the wall and using his hips to keep you pressed against him he grins, looking down at you “you won’t find it cute when you can’t walk tomorrow.” Sliding one of his hands under your shirt to start to fondle at one of your breasts, fingertips calloused sending a line of fire straight to your core. His other hand repositioning your legs so your pussy is pressed against the wide expanse of his upper thigh now, toes just pressing to the floor. “Time to start that lesson. You need to have good balance when riding a bull.” Starting to undulate his leg so you’re almost bouncing on his thigh, the friction delectable, a small moan leaving you as your arms grip his shoulders for balance. “Yea. Just like that.”

He keeps you on his thigh for a while, his hand occasionally reaching down to press against your clothed core, all while playing with the nipple of your breast working it to a hardened nub. “I think it’s time we lose some layers.” Pulling both of his hands from your body and with a roll of his shoulders his jacket is falling to the floor, you expect his shirt to follow, instead he’s undoing his belt and leaving it unfastened before reaching for your own shirt. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Oh fuck yea.” Helping him to pull the fabric above your head before going back to grinding on his body. Your torso just covered by your bra now has him licking his lips, shifting the fabric of the cups of your overflowing skin from the band and starting to play with the other nipple.

“The next part of the lesson is learning when you need to take the reins.” Sliding one of his hands along his chest before dipping down to his abs “if you get my meaning?” You certainly do, rolling your hips and letting your hands fly to his pants, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down fast enough you’re certain you hear the teeth snapping. The bulge in his pants is more obvious now, dipping a hand inside the band of his boxers and grasping him. Thick enough you can’t get your fingers to meet as you wrap around him, hearing a grunt pass his lips. “Quick learner.”

Moving your hand down to his tip and giving it a light squeeze you grin “maybe I should slow down. Being a poor student might get me more lessons.” Gasping as you finish speaking, feeling him pinch your nipple and sucking on your lower lip before biting it just hard enough to make the skin swell. Lapping at it afterwards and humming.

“We’ll see how well you can listen before I offer a second lesson” grinning against your lips as he dips one of his hands down to where the waistband of your own pants, watching your eyes to see if you want to keep going. Nodding for him to continue, catching his mouth for a deeper kiss, letting his wide tongue press into your mouth and sweeping into the nooks and crannies. Hearing the snap of your pants being loosened and a warm hand pushing your own underwear out of the way to fondle your folds, your grinding coming to a halt at something pressing more actively against you. “A rather important lesson in riding is the importance of protection.” Whining as he pulls away from your body, letting your feet land flat on the floor and removing your hand from his pants.

Digging in a drawer near his bedside table watching you with hooded eyes “want the next part of the lesson against the wall or on the bed?” Pushing the front of his pants and underwear down so both are hanging just under his heavy looking balls, ripping the package open before sliding the condom on his throbbing cock.

Swallowing you grin, dropping your pants and underwear to the floor but otherwise not moving “wall.”

Striding towards you with sure steps, and letting his hands trace your sides before grasping your hips and starting to lift you off the floor. Your own hands moving to grip his shoulders again. “This part is real important, you need to make sure you’ve got the bull right where you want them before taking your seat and mount them.” Watching him you swallow, one of you hands trailing down his cloth covered chest before reaching down for his cock between the two of you. Even through the condom his skin feels like it’s burning up, lining his head up with your pussy but not before giving your clit a few taps. “Last chance to back out.”

He’s watching you for any sign you don’t want this “I want this.” Sliding the hand still on his shoulder to grip his short blond hair and kissing him, like your life depends on it. Gasping against his lips as he starts to penetrate you, the blunt tip of his cock stretching you wide, taking his time to work your pussy open and you’re glad for all the foreplay. You aren’t sure you would have been able to take him otherwise. A symphony of pants, moans and groans rending the air until at last he’s as deep inside of you as he can be at this angle. Tilting his head against your forehead and looking down at where you’re joined, the sound of his cowbell jingling odd.

Ears twitching while he seems content at the moment to keep his eyes on the space between your legs that his length is nestled in. “We haven’t even started the lesson in earnest and you feel like you wanna milk me dry.”

All you can feel are your walls spasming around him, the veins of his cock pulsing almost in time with your own racing heartbeat. “Thought bulls didn’t produce milk?” Teasing through your pants and watching his eyes darken.

“This one does, as long as you know how to get it.” Kissing you again, waiting for the clenching of your walls to slow, giving both of your breasts a tight squeeze, his hands easily covering your soft mounds. “Final part of the lesson before we get going, as much as the bull might not feel it, that old adage about grabbing the bull by the horns in a good one. When you wanna put what I’ve told you to use, grab em.” The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re doing just that, gripping his horn and starting to move your hips so he’s thrusting in and out of you at the shallow angle you can manage.

“Hang on tight, because this bull is about to wreck you.”

Grabbing your hips he starts to slam inside of you, bucking his hips with one goal in mind, making you orgasm around him. Damn. You can feel sweat starting to bead against your back and he doesn’t even look fazed doing all the work, using the wall behind the two of you so he can set a brutal pace, every thrust going from tip to base. A new orchestra is starting to play, the sounds of skin slapping skin, the occasional moan breaking through while he makes your body bend to him.

“Fuck” moaning as your eyes start to roll into the back of your head, Kni biting your ear to bring you back to your senses having felt your grip on his horns loosen.

“You’re not a clown or a cowboy are you?” You shake your head in the negative, to fucked out of it as your orgasm grows closer and closer. Dragging his teeth down along the skin of your neck. “I guess that makes you a cute little cow. In that case, moo for me little cow.”

You don’t know why but the sound of his request has you clenching harder around him, you hadn’t thought you had a bit of degradation kink before now. “Mooo” practically moaned in his ear, and his hips are somehow moving even faster now.

“Good little cow. This bull is gonna pound you all night long, fill this little cow pussy with cum.” You let out another moo noise as you orgasm, hearing it turn into a moan as you lose some control of your body as it relaxes. “You like that don’t you? Maybe I’ll put my calf in you, make you my cow forever.” Almost screaming as your second orgasm rips through you, his dirty talk making your head spin while his cock is pistoning inside of you with enough force you know you’ll be bruised. His mouth catching yours for a searing kiss as a third orgasm follows right behind the second.

“Too much” panting against his lips, connected to yours by a thin line of saliva his pale blue eyes almost glowing as he stops, keeping his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

“You wanna stop or take a break?” His voice is hoarse but he’s listening to you, nuzzling his nose under your ear as he speaks.

“Break.” Because damn, if he can do that without breaking a sweat what else can he do?

“Don’t worry about the calf thing.” Watching him swallow, a light blush on his face “I’ve got lots of condoms. It's kind of a bull thing having a breeding kink and well, talking about it.” You nod, resting your head against his shoulder while you catch your breath.

“Dirty talk is fine.” Panting still as your skin starts to cool “besides. Maybe I do want a calf.” Feeling how he pulsates inside of you hearing those words you grin.

“In that case.” Hand on your throat and tilting your head upwards “got milk?” Pressing his lips to yours again, waiting for you to signal you’re ready to continue.

The next day you can barely walk, having gone through an entire pack of condoms with Kni before calling it quits. At your own home you pull out your phone to tell him you made it safely as he asked, a look of concern on his face when you left mid morning. Hearing the ding of a notification you flick it open.

Laughing at his answer.

Remember

That offer for a second lesson is an open invitation

You need the help

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#millions knives x reader smut #millions knives x reader #Trigun Smut #trigun x reader #twink writes #trigun #31 days of monsters #millions knives #trimax #tristamp #trigun maximum #trigun stampede

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sanjoongie · 1 year

Text

Library of Illusions~ Fantasy Section

Horns

📚Part Two for the Library Of Illusions Event

📚Pairing: Dragon! Yeosang x Knight! Reader (f)

📚Genre: Fantasy au, dragon au, strangers to lovers

📚Warnings: oral ( f receiving and giving), dick-drunk reader, special dragon dick! yeosang, special cunt! Reader, degradation kink, knotting, cuts from talons

📚Word Count: 4,261

📚Rating: 18+ MDNI, smut

📚Summary: in the fantasy section, you become a lady knight, here to conquer a dragon. Only the fight has less to do with swords and fangs, and more to do with who can make the other cum first.

📚Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland the best beta readers a writer could bribe have

↫The Horror Section ↭ MasterList ↭ The Sci-fi Section↬

You rubbed your hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. What was this section going to throw at you? Perhaps you would get to be a knight in shining armor, out to slay a horrid beast? You were far too deep in your head for the dangers that could betray you in the library. As a result, you tripped over something and landed flat on your face. You cursed your clumsiness and looked behind you to see what was the cause of your trip. On the floor was a dark red book, the title Horns and Swords golden on the spine.

You opened it, prepared this time for the book to fly out of your hands, land upright, with its pages flipping open, until it halted and grew to the size of a door once again. The center for the book was transparent, and within you could see a gently rolling hill and a large stone structure on the top. Before entering, you turned your head, still unable to shake that feeling from within the Horror section that you were being watched.

“Whoever you are, I hope you get off on spying,” You muttered under your breath and then walked into the book.

You're dressed in armor but it is not the kind you imagined knights wore, covered head to toe in chainmail and plated armor. No, this was the kind that let your boobs bounce and showed off your legs and ass. This kind of armor was meant to seduce and captivate the eyes. What the hell kind of fantasy novel were you in?

You heard a twinkling noise and quickly realized that it was coming from a book that was attached to your belt. You pulled it out and opened it to the first page. Inside was your handwriting, detailed descriptions of monsters you had pursued and how you had defeated them. What you hadn't expected while skimming the notes was the descriptions.

Orcs: big balls, stroke to entice early ejaculation

Centaurs: DO NOT OFFER MISSIONARY! HOOVES!

Mermen: find a rock to seduce him on. Sand is a bitch to get out of your boots

The list went on and on and you quickly realized you weren’t a whore, per say, but a type of knight that ‘conquered’ monsters by bringing them pleasure. Well, at least the book got the knight part right that you wanted.

In the book, your notes stopped and a new page began. The inscription spoke of this part of your book being connected to the great book back at the Citadel, in which the clerical knights wrote the bounties one could take on. You flipped through the small book until you come across a particularly interesting entry:

Time Dragon: Kang Yeosang is wanted for manipulating time in order to increase his hoard. Capture if necessary, otherwise, sufficient proof of conquest is a piece of his horn.

You looked up at the large building that was on top of the gently inclining hill. Clearly you had been deposited right where you needed to be. But what kind of dragon lived in a limestone building? Didn’t they prefer mountains or caves? Perhaps Time Dragons were a different breed. You shook your head. Whatever the case, you had another key to earn.

You underestimated the climb, making your thighs burn with the effort to climb the hill. Hill was a bad word for it. Huge earth mound that took forever to climb was much better. Thoughts of getting a horse when turned in the dragon’s horn floated through your head. A pretty horse, female and even tempered. One of those white and black horses, what were they called again? Ah yes, Appaloosa! Yes, you would reward yourself with a pretty horse when you completed this bounty.

The limestone building at the top of the hill was much bigger than you had estimated when you were at the bottom. The ceilings had to be five times your height. Your footsteps echoed as you entered the large room. Inside was completely empty. There were only two items: a large stone slab in the middle of the room and a statue at the back.

There, carved in perfect similarity, was the humanoid form of a dragon. You moved closer to inspect it. The creature was clearly much bigger than a human, and his features were gorgeous. His nose appeared perfect to grind your lower half against--you shook your head again. Curse your thirst for these monsters, your character was pulling you into the story, much like you had been with the horror section. You had to keep it together!

“Why do you enter my mausoleum, Lady Knight?” A rumbling, deep voice scared the living shit out of you.

You raised your chin, challenging the statue that had spoken. “I am here for Kang Yeosang. He has been a bad dragon as of late.”

The corners of the statue’s lips quirked upwards but only in minute detail. The statue began to move and you were starting to realize he wasn’t a statue. As he moved, color seemed to breathe into his form. Gone was the stark white stone that matched that of the structure and to replace it was bronze skin and dark, flowing hair. That was where the resemblance to a human stopped. He had red eyes with a pupil that was a slit. He had large black horns that grew out of the crown of his head. He also sported wicked looking talons. You were sad to see no tail but the rest of his body was covered in scales, the only exception being his face and neck.

“But I was simply increasing my hoard, Lady Knight,” The dragon continued to speak to you. He stepped down from his throne and walked towards you.

You shook your finger at the approaching figure. “You know as well as I that the Citadel does not approve of time changes, Yeosang. And several at that! You restarted a timeline so many times, the poor villagers couldn't even remember who they were. That cannot stand.”

Yeosang chuckled. “Then we are to fight?”

The sentence made goosebumps cover your body. It seemed your body knew what was to come. You jerked your head towards the stone slab in the middle of the room. “That will be adequate as a place to copulate.” You adjusted your armor, pushing your breasts up and your skirt down.

Yeosang ducked his head in agreement. “As you wish.”

You hopped onto the slab and lied down. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it would be tolerable. It’s not like you would be on it for long anyways. You were quite confident in your skills as a lady knight. Yeosang would be knotted inside of you quite soon, you estimated.

“These offend me,” Yeosang announced suddenly. Those razor sharp talons began to slice through the leather straps that held your chest piece and skirt together. They clanged loudly as they hit the marble slab. Now your breasts and cunt were available to those red eyes of Yeosang’s.

His taloned hand next encircled your ankle carefully, raising your leg upwards so he could spread your legs. His forked tongue came out to taste the air and he smirked, making his face look somehow sweet at this moment. "You're wet, Lady Knight."

"Of course I am," You agreed, biting down on your lip, "I've had dragon dick before. It'll be a pleasure to take it again." Yeosang grunted, unimpressed that he wasn't your first. You laughed. "I didn't properly introduce myself, did I?"

Yeosang's tongue tickled and caressed your calf and he moved down your leg, to the inside of your thighs. "Would you consider a different race?"

You raised an eyebrow at the dragon. "You want some of my sweet nectar? You don't want to fuck me?"

Yeosang's eyes meet your gaze. "I'll fuck you in victory, I'm sure my dragon dick is much better than what you had before."

"If you win, you can take me however you'd prefer," You agreed wholeheartedly because you knew you were going to win. There hasn't been a dragon that you had not conquered yet.

Yeosang grinned, sharp teeth making you shiver with the slight threat they offered. "Oh Lady Knight, you are quite confident with your skills."

Yeosang moved to the side of the raised marble slate and leaned over you. You pushed your body so that your head could hang off the slab and give Yeosang's cock a direct path to fuck your throat. The slit that contained his cock hovered over your head and you licked your lips in anticipation. You raised your hand and ran two fingers along the scaled lips of the slit. Yeosang shivered above you. "Have some patience, you cock hungry knight," Yeosang scolded you.

You shook your head. "There's a reason I'm a lady knight, Yeosang. In fact, I am famously known as Topaz the Temptation."

Yeosang's tongue fluttered above your cunt, almost ready to taste you before he halted. "One of the Jewel Knights? The legendary Monster Ruiners?"

"Give me your dick, Yeosang," You purred, "I'm ready."

Yeosang swallowed audibly. "Open your mouth," He commanded.

You watched with anticipation as his slit opened and his cock pushed past the barrier. All dragon dicks were self lubricating so the lewd noise it made as it extended all seven inches of perfection were enough to make your cunt even more wet. The arrow head was perfect to part pussy lips, it was curved AND thick, and you could see a bulge at the base.

"You're a mating Dragon!" You cried out in excitement.

Yeosang slid his tongue from your clit to your hole. Your legs clamped down against his head but he easily pushed your thighs apart, hands remaining on your thighs to keep you spread for him. "You've never had one, have you?"

"I haven't!--" Whatever you were going to say next became muffled as Yeosang entered your mouth. His thickness almost stretched your lips and you rolled your eyes in ecstasy. This was heaven, being stuffed this way.

Yeosang thrusted experimentally and was pushing into the back of your throat easily. "Oh fuck," He cursed.

Your hands braced on his hips, pulling him forward, and encouraging him to fuck your throat. You swallowed when you felt him down your throat and his hips stuttered. "You really weren't kidding about your skills," He mused to himself before he plunged his face and tongue into your cunt.

With Yeosang's cock steadily fucking your throat, and his tongue fucking your pussy, your mind was all white noise. You only had focus for your breathing, the wonderful way Yeosang's cock pressed your tongue flat, and the way his tongue curled inside of your cunt.

"Fuck, you take my cock well, Lady Knight," Yeosang growled, his voice deep and raw. "I've had many knights think they could take me and whine when I'm too big for them, but not you, hmmmm?"

Yeosang was in complete control at this very moment and he had to be conscious of just how much he fucked your sweet mouth. He pulled out, which did make you able to think more clearly but unfortunately let out a lot of his lubricant and your saliva mixture down your cheeks. It was messy and he had not even released his cum yet.

Yeosang's tongue was writhing inside of you, almost with a will of its own. He had found the special spot inside of you that made you whimper and buck your hips and was caressing that spot with his forked tip. No dragon had ever been dedicated or delicate enough to make you come with their skilled and forked tongue. You began to worry.

You reached out and wrapped your hand around Yeosang's wet cock. You moved up and down the shaft, sucking hard on the tip that still rested inside of your mouth. Your tongue circled the tip as you sucked and Yeosang cried out instead this time.

"Stars!" He cried out, "You really want that reward, Lady Knight, your mouth is sinful. Still," Yeosang continued to muse out loud, "I think I want to fuck this cunt instead."

His tongue went to work, moving along your clit at such a pace that you simply had no chance. Your hips thrusted upwards into his face, thighs trembling as an orgasm ripped through you. You let out a sigh of frustration and tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You had failed. For the first time, you had not been able to take the monster down. Might as well say bye bye to that beautiful Appaloosa Mare you planned on making your own. But wait, wasn't there something else you were working towards?

Yeosang receded from your body and you whimpered at the loss of his cock in your mouth and his tongue from your cunt. Yeosang had introduced you to a new version of being double stuffed and you weren't sure you could do without it now.

"Ruined already for me, Lady Knight?" Yeosang teased you.

You sat upwards, carefully cleaning your face with the side of your hand. "My pussy is ready for you, sir." With eyes cast downwards in the image of maidenly shyness, you turned on the slab so that your legs were hanging off it now. Your legs were spread, pussy wet and shiny and inviting just for Yeosang.

Yeosang's red eyes were blown so that his eyes didn't even appear as slits anymore. His body slotted between your legs and his fore talon curled under your chin. "I do look forward to fucking you full of my seed and knotting tight inside of your sweet cunt, lovely."

"Promise?" You whispered, eyes getting heavy lidded at the thought of being stuffed by his self-lubricating cock.

Yeosang shook his head at you. "Still so cock hungry," He tsked at you mockingly, "Are you ever satisfied?"

You shook your head, "Hardly ever."

Yeosang snorted at your blunt truth. "Then by all means, let me have an attempt at it."

You watched with bated breath as Yeosang's talons curled around your hips and he snaked his cock inside of your cunt. He stretched you wonderfully with his tongue but his cock was what you were truly meant to experience. It filled you in such a way, snug in your wet puss, the base only slightly bulged but already feeling wonderful inside of you.

"So full," You whimpered.

"Look at how well your cunt takes my cock, lovely?" Yeosang praised you, "You almost suck me in, such a good lady knight, you didn't even protest as I stretched you fully."

You raised your arms around Yeosang's neck and curled your legs around his hips. His scales would have slid against the inside of your thighs and against the sensitive skin of your arms but luckily your armor that hadn't been stripped off by Yeosang was still there; all the better to fuck a dragon, scales and all.

"That's why I'm such a temptation, Yeosang," You purred, "My cunt is my weapon."

Yeosang thrusted shallowly, barely pulling out before pushing back in. His eyes were closed and his hair was casting a shadow over his face. "Such a sweet cunt," Yeosang murmured to himself.

“Is it sweet to you?” You cooed, “Is it warm and wet and velvety for you, Drachen?”

Yeosang’s eyebrows lifted into his fringe. “You know the old tongue?”

“I know--” You gasped as Yeosang began to increase the length of his thrusts, giving you more of his cock, “--a lot of things.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows began to furrow as he fucked you. He wasn’t used to a knight taking the entirety of his length. In fact, he barely experienced an orgasm from just the tip being introduced to an orifice. And also…

“--what was that?” Yeosang demanded, feeling a sensation around his cock that was not something he had ever felt before.

You laid back against the slab, your back arching as Yeosang paused fucking your tiny yet accommodating hole. “When one becomes a Lady Knight, particularly one of a special pedigree, there is a spell cast upon you. It gives you a special power in order to conquer the monsters of this world. My special power is called Dickstrom. So what you’re feeling is my pussy revolving around your dick, forever sucking you in.”

Yeosang continued to fuck your cunt and groaned loudly. “I’ve never…” He began to pant between his words, “...a rainbow knight! Ah--”

“Seems like I’m not the only one getting something new this evening,” You preened at your success.

Your pussy continued to swirl around the humanoid dragon’s cock, allowing you to take him deeper and deeper inside of you. Yeosang’s thrusts began to get sloppy and his grip tightened on your hips, enough that he cut the skin there. You didn’t even feel it, however, so deep into your pleasure.

Once Yeosang came, your pussy would suck in all his seed and you would become even more powerful as a Jewel Knight. You were quite sure that once he knotted inside of you, as you had studied when you were a squire, you would orgasm.

“Fuck me with your knotting dick, Yeosang, fuck me full of your cum and then knot inside of me. I want it, I want it so badly, please let me have it!” You moaned.

"You're lovely in your insatiable thirst for me," Yeosang growled and then came with a desperate cry. His back arched and he threw his head back. He was the picture of perfect male perfection above you: dick deep inside of you, chest heaving in heavy breaths, neck pulsating with working veins and his sharp jaw to finish the picture off.

Then your breath was caught in your throat as Yeosang's knot pushed outwards and gave you the final stimulation against your g-spot to come. It ran through your nerves making your toes curl and you moan Yeosang's name. The feeling of remaining full making you feel content because Yeosang had to remain inside of you until you fully absorbed his cum and that would be hours entangled face to face.

Slowly Yeosang lowered himself until his upper body was braced over yours, forearms bracing on the cold marble. He was letting out a noise that was a mix of a growl and a purr. You could feel your walls were still pulsating around him.

The two of you remained locked together, and yet somehow, Yeosang was tender with you. He ran the back of his talon along your cheek. “You could have won, Lady Knight, had I fucked you. Why did you agree to let me tongue fuck your cunt instead?” Yeosang wondered.

You shrugged. “Perhaps this time I didn’t want to win. Perhaps--” You moaned wantonly as Yeosang adjusted, giving you the overstimulation against your pussy walls that you both adored and hated.

Yeosang cocked his head. "Did you not want to win?"

Anxiety coursed through you but you didn't know why. Why did it matter so much that you needed to win? The thought was pulling at your mind but you simply could not recall. All you knew is that your fingers were itching to make new notes about a mating dragon and to sketch Yeosang's gorgeous face as well in some nice charcoal.

Yeosang smiled, a genuine one and almost broke your mind with how much sunshine it contained. "You did realize I could rewind time at any moment and reset the timeline so that I could try to win, right?"

You smiled lazily, completely content to be stuffed by Yeosang like this. You would rather the previous double stuffed but this wasn't so bad either. "Then I would experience sex with you multiple times. I don't see the loss here."

Yeosang chuckled, sounding manly and cocky. "Oh, I like you."

The dragon then reached above his head promptly and broke off one of his horns. Your jaw dropped in surprise. "Yeosang!"

Yeosang seemed soft, vulnerable and not like the haughty dragon you had met earlier. "You are the only knight to have taken me completely and also gave me a climax that I haven't experienced in a very long time. Take this and let the entire realm know that I am taken. I am a conquered monster."

"The other knights will also leave you alone if they consider you conquered," You peeked up at him through your eyelashes, "Are you sure?"

"Only if you'll retire with me," Yeosang offered.

You felt a soft smile extend on your face as well. You had never thought to retire, but with Yeosang, perhaps--

Your real consciousness smashed into you with a determined scream. You couldn't settle into this world! "I have more monsters to conquer, Yeosang," You reminded him, not exactly how much you could do while a huge monster was pinning you against a marble slab with his knotted dick stuck inside of you.

Yeosang had the grace to look slightly bashful. "Very well, lovely."

The air tensed, warping and stretching and suddenly it snapped and you were back in the Fantasy Section. Yeosang's arms were wrapped around you but a normal sized man now. He sported a leather double vest, gloves and black slacks.

It took a moment for your mind to adjust and then everything that happened just hit you like a ten ton truck. “Dickstrom?!” You demanded, “Really?”

Yeosang had a look of mischief gleaming from his eyes, the corners of his lips quirking upwards but he fought it. “The sensation was worth it.”

You hung your head low. “I suppose I should go tell Seonghwa that my time here has come to an end.”

Yeosang lifted an eyebrow at your statement. "What makes you say that?"

Your chest tingled with excitement. "I didn't fail?"

Yeosang shook his head. "Most humans look to conquer in my section. But you were simply seeking pleasure. It was a breath of fresh air, to put it simply."

The demon released you and squatted before a bookshelf full of pastel colored spines and pulled out Horns and Swords. When he opened it, inside was a mini version of the horn his dragonself had gifted your lady knight. Upon prying it out, he offered it to you. "A reward well earned, Lady Knight." Yeosang smiled but he had an air of sadness about him.

You just took it just like Wooyoung's regret that you couldn't play with him anymore. "Thank you, Yeosang."

Yeosang shook his head. "Don't rub it in too roughly that you got this key as well. Seonghwa has his pride too, you know."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh please, he's probably napping. If anything, I'll get to hear him call me 'human' lovingly again," You scoffed.

Yeosang laughed, a laugh that was both deep and musical at the same time. "Good-bye, lovely."

This time as you approached the desk, Seonghwa had his tongue between his lips in concentration, staring intensely at a board of 3D chess. "You know the way out," He waved you away with a flick of his hand, not even bothering to look at you.

"Oh, don't let me interrupt you, Keeper," You said sarcastically, "Just tell me where you keep my keys and I'll add this one."

"The display case behind me--WAIT A MINUTE!" Seonghwa shouted in disbelief, "You received another one? Who?"

You opened your palm to show the horn. Seonghwa looked simply gobsmacked. "Yeosang?" Seonghwa looked around wildly. "Kang Yeosang, reveal yourself!"

You circumvented the desk and stood before the display case. Inside was black and gold sand, and there was your mask you had received from Wooyoung. You were about to lift the latch when Seonghwa's hand came down on yours in an almost crushing grip. "Do not," He said in a low tone that set a shiver down your spine.

You flicked your eyes upward to meet the demons. "Are you going to add my key or are you going to nag Yeosang's ear off?"

Seonghwa began to grumble and released your hand. "I am the Keeper of the Keys, remember--"

"If you call me human one more time, I will grab a handful of that sand and stuff it down your throat--" You threatened.

Seonghwa snapped his mouth shut and you swore you could see a faint blush across his cheeks. But surely you were wrong. "--that," he finished lamely.

You rolled your eyes. You slapped the dragon's horn onto Seonghwa's waiting palm. "Great, you have a good discussion with Yeosang, I'm going to get another key," You announced as you walked away from Seonghwa who was back to cursing Yeosang--and you--under his breath.

You were genuinely worried about your state of mind. Was it because you adored fantasy so much that the enticement of remaining there was strong. Or was it because with each key you acquired, the game became harder? There had to be something you could do to keep yourself grounded!

All thoughts swirled out of your head when you came across a section that could not be ignored. Bright, neon lights blinked for the Science Fiction Section. You could hear the rumbling of a hover vehicle and the blasting of laser guns. Science fiction was also close to your heart but difficult to navigate due to the terms and the aliens and--you gulped. Surely you wouldn't have to conquer an alien. You blanked your mind, determined to not make the same mistake you had in the Fantasy Section, and walked into the new section.

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