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#covering the eye is the only way to not be a target
jumbojazzcats93 · 1 day
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COTTON MOUTH - GHOST
Summary - Ghost discovers something about himself
Warnings/Tags - MDNI, Blood kink, blood, mentions of sex, violence, injuries, Header by @/loganliqueurdrag on TikTok, banner by @/saradika, @glossysoap @violet-phantoms @gremlingottoosilly @lordlydragon @grizzersmamma @ivymarquis @quietlyignoringyou
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Nerves were frayed. This operation was taking way too damn long. These might've been the most elusive terrorists the squad had dealt with, and as it turned out, the reason for that was because they were already dead. A bigger fish had come along and taken a bite, if you will.
Upon finding the dead group of men there was silence.....
Silence and then - "FUCK", followed by a slam.
Ghost whipped around at the sound to find Soap and Gaz huffing and grumbling in frustration, rubbing their faces and eyes, shaking their heads. Price was relaying the details of the carnage over comms with closed eyes and a tired expression. And y/n... had removed and thrown her Kevlar helmet across the room; crouching down with a groan that bordered on a scream and covering her face with her hands. "Two months!", she shouted holding up 2 fingers and looking up. Ghost persed his lips behind the mask as he looked down at her. "Two months of running around this dry-ass, sandy-ass country. Bouncing from base to base and camping out on black ops only fo-" "Right, then." He cut in. "Tha's quite enough whinging." He scooped up Y/N's Kevlar and grabbed her by the vest straps standing her up. "Gotta pull gaurd until the extraction crew gets here." He held her helmet out for her until she took it, "Le's head up front, than yeah?", and strolled to the previous room.
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Hours had passed. The extraction crew had been delayed, saying something about how the wind was too strong for flying. Apparently, this mission was cursed down to the last detail because 5 hours into the wait, Arabic whispered through the walls of the building. Tension flooded the room. The hope that, whoever these people were, they would just pass and keep on moving was a shared one, but after almost 15 minutes, that hope was buried in the sand as a knife ripped into the door in an attempt to somehow work it open. 15 more minutes after that saw the bodies of their "bigger fish" laying among their target terrorist group.
Sighs and heavy breaths filled the small building in the aftermath of the fight. Ghost looked over his team. Nothing more than a few cuts and bruises was a relief. Perimeter checks began once again as Price radioed in to Laswel to report the state of events. He found y/n carefully feeling at a knife wound. A shallow, clean cut down her bottom lip and chin. She licked her cut lip, Ghost watching as she looked him in the eyes and collected the blood in her mouth, spitting it out onto the sand. His stomach tightened and he wondered if he had hit his head because something was deeply wrong with him for the arousal that wracked his body. Traces of blood stained her mouth and as she grinned at Gaz over some sarcastic joke, his stomach tightened again... along with his tactical pants.
The sight of her grinning and spitting blood was doing something for him in ways he knew was so demented. He imagined her naked and on her knees with his blood in her mouth, on her lips as she teased his cock with her tongue; a bloody bite mark on his thigh the source. He turned away.The image of her licking blood from her lips was going to taint his mind for a long time.
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delicatebarness · 15 hours
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i cant read your mind | prologue
Summary: After the fall of Hydra, you discover the location of The Winter Soldier, under the orders of Captain America.
Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: The Winter Soldier & Captain America: Civil War. Mentions of choking & near death.
Word Count: 480
Masterlist | Next Chapter
A/N: My hyperfixation is FATWS at the moment, so here we are.
Tags: @blackhawkfanatic |
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You were assigned to Steve Rogers the second you became an agent. The job involved assisting him on missions, writing his mission reports, and everything in between. Glorified personal assistant, you would regularly joke. Steve saw you as more than that, he would always tell you how appreciated your work was and that he genuinely thought of you as a good friend. The feeling was mutual, so when he sent you on a solo mission, it didn’t come as a surprise. 
“You need to find him,” Steve calmly demanded as he handed you a classified file. You flipped through the paperwork to find that your target was his long-lost friend and The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. 
“You’re sending me to find The Winter Soldier?” The realization of the potential dangers crossing your mind. “Me?” you questioned him whole gesturing to yourself. “Guess I’ll say my goodbyes now.” 
“I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he reassured you, “I’m only asking you to find him. He won’t even know you’re there.” 
Famous last words, Steve. 
~
In the dimly lit staircase, the air was heavy with tension, you stood before him: Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier. Your eyes were locked together, you took a breath before daring to speak.
“Sergeant Barnes?” you murmured, you could feel your heart pounding as you looked down at the super soldier. It had been too late to hide, too late to run. He had been walking up the stairs as you quietly closed his apartment door, causing you to freeze right there.
A flicker of uncertainty danced in his eyes as he struggled to reconcile the fragments of memories in his mind. “I know you,” he spoke as he began to close the distance between you. 
You reached up to brush aside the strands of hair that covered part of your face, revealing the bruises that had formed on the skin around your neck. “On the bridge,” your voice trembled as you tried to recall the encounter that had brought you here. “You, um..” you struggled to find the courage to voice the terrifying experience. Steve had taken you on many missions, and you had fought against actual aliens but Bucky, for the first time on that bridge, you thought that would be the end. 
His eyes fell on the bruises, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He admired the marks he left. It was obvious which hand had left them and it wasn’t metal. 
“I marked you up real good, didn’t I?” his voice laced with amusement as he reached up, tracing the outline of his marks gently. A shiver raced down your spine, a mix of fear and desire. You found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain, there was a connection between you. A connection you didn’t see yourselves losing any time soon.
---
Masterlist | Next Chapter
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diejager · 3 days
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On the other side of the coin, the higher-ups and "friends" who actually know the reality of you and Krueger's love story shakes their head when some naive, innocent Chimera members romanticize you and Krueger's relationship. Had you been unwilling, this "love story" of yours belong in those crime documentaries. It only works because both of you are insane 💀
NO LIKE, look at me in the eye and tell me that this yandere war criminal will court his darling normally. If men who flirt with you flaunt their strength and muscles like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast, Krueger is extreme. His courting includes:
• Flaunting his strength by getting even more brutal towards his targets the moment you're near him.
• You know how cats bring their owner gifts in the form of dead animals? Krueger-coded. Sometimes he brings the enemies when they're still alive and let's you decide their fate (also, an excellent chance for him to see your unhinged side). You never even told him who your enemies are. Does it in public too.
• If most men bring flowers, he occasionally hands you a bloody bag filled with things you seem to take interest on. Again, he doesn't care if anyone sees. He probably likes it if people see it.
The moment you decided to show interest by gently nudging him to act out? Sir is over the moon.
in this situation, it goes both ways: Krueger is full blown yandere for you, and once you’re wholly sure of the depth of his devotion, Krueger will become your darling as much as you are his.
He will flaunt, yes. He might not be the broadest, the biggest or the tallest, but he is absolutely confident in his strength and power. Brutality is in his blood. That’s why there’s such an appeal when he brings something - someone - back, all bruised and bloody, their fate left under the sadistic gleam in your eyes. He’s usually not one to share, but he’ll make an exception for you, especially after seeing you return the favour with a few gifts here and there, all anonymous to others but extremely affectionate for him.
It could be a stranger or someone on base - I swear, he wouldn’t even care - and the higher ups don’t bat an eye, they shrug is off and turn a blind eye to it because the both of you are a strong asset. Threatening alone, but lethal together. He brings you filthy and stained gifts, he doesn’t care if people stare, he’s that shamelessly head over heels for you, and when you return his affection, he’s over the fucking moon. He doubles his acts, the price of every gift growing higher and higher, the heaviness of the bags getting more and more suspicious.
And… and the day you whisper your wish in his ears, telling him to bring nothing but himself, bloody and covered in filth to your room, he’s on his knees, worshiping and praising you as his goddess.
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selineram3421 · 3 months
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can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)
*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!
Hissy Kitty
Prologue
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Alastor X Reader
Warnings⚠
⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠
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Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.
Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?"
"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.
He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.
"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.
"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.
"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.
"Husker!"
Shit.
He was pissed that he was too late.
"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."
"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.
You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"
Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.
"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.
After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.
How interesting..
"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"
"I'm-"
"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."
"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.
Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.
"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"
"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"
Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.
"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"
"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.
"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.
"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.
"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.
"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"
"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"
The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.
"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."
"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.
"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."
"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."
"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.
"Only for a few hours!", he replied.
You stayed longer than a few hours.
Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.
Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.
"So Husky~", Angel slid over.
"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.
"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"
"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.
.
"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.
"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"
You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.
"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.
"What.", your brother growled.
"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"
"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.
"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."
The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.
"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."
"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.
"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"
You were near Alastor most of the day.
Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.
"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.
All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.
"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."
"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."
Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.
"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.
"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.
The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.
"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.
"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.
The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."
"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.
"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.
The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.
Oh how entertaining~
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I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?
ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾
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scoutswritingcorner · 1 month
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Let The Game Begin
Alastor x GN! Reader
The 4 times Alastor bites you and the one time you bite back.
TW: Mentions that Alastor owns Reader’s soul. Biting and blood.
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1st Time
The first time it had happened it honestly surprised the hell out of you, you were looking over some paperwork for Charlie regarding the new renovations that her dad had wanted to put in saying it was to bring in new guests. But looking at the duck themed statue has you confused but you didn’t bring it up yet. Taking your pen you wrote down what would seem best and not cost so much to get done, despite having magic abilities- you forbid the King (by bribing him with ducks) to use his magic to build anything more. You’d practically be out of a job then..and you don’t want Alastor to yank on your chain. Literally..you’d be no use for him here and you’d rather not be stuck behind the desk. You’d drive yourself to madness once more, but your husband would find a way for you to stay. You were his greatest treasure after all.
You were seemingly so focused on what was in front of you and what you were thinking that you failed to notice the red haired demon behind you, watching you and calling your name. How dare you ignore him? The man who brought you here. The man who has your soul in his clawed hands. But he couldn’t bring himself to summon your chain..as his eyes landed on your shoulder, a devious smile was on his lips and in a flash. One hand wrapped around your neck as he *bit* down causing you to let out a loud yelp. You couldn’t move away from him as he leaned back your crimson blood staining his teeth and lips. Oh..He adored that sound. He wanted more.
2nd Time
The second time was when you were sitting down next to him in the foyer as Charlie was talking about a new exercise. You were more or less paying attention, leaning against your hand as Alastor stood next to your seat. He was never the man to sit around for a long period of time especially when he had something important on his mind. You watched him tap the bottom of his cane to the tip of his shoe, making sure Charlie was focusing on something else you waved your hand to get his attention. Thankfully he had looked over the second you raised your hand but his tense shoulders slumped when he noticed you weren’t going to touch him. The golden band on your finger prominent in the light as you waved him down, he backed up bending by the waist to listen to you. “Go, Dear..I’ll cover for you..you got that distant look in your eyes.” You whispered out causing his smile to widen. Oh how he loved your keen eyes but he nodded and gently grabbed your hand to press a kiss to your palm. Your thumb brushing against his cheek, a discreet sentiment he always seemed to enjoy. You looked away for a split second feeling someone watching you (other than your husband) but then flinched feeling his sharp fangs dig into your palm before he smoothed it out with a lick from his tongue and a kiss to your knuckles. You turned to curse him but he was already gone, left with a red bite mark on your palm.
3rd Time
The third time was as surprising as the first one. Alastor was known for his cruelty, the way his anger had no bounds or limits. But walking with him to Cannibal Town to see Rosie, you missed sitting with her listening to the latest news and gossiping about people (..Susan..), had him on edge. You kept your distance from your husband upon his request as much as he adored your attention and touch, he didn’t want you to become an even bigger target than you already were from being so close to him. But the way random sinners who had the nerve to catcall you from across the street made him angrier by the second. You watched as your husband’s eye twitched but didn’t point it out, only walked faster to catch up with him.
What really hammered the nail into the coffin was when he had taken your arm to help you across the road, ever the suave gentlemen your husband was, and someone had the gall- no the nerve to flirt with you infront of his face before grabbing onto you like a rabid dog looking for a meal. Sharp static rang out as his horns grew bigger- his smile wider causing the sinner to tremble and fall back onto their own ass before a tendril shot out grabbing the sinner by their throat and slamming them into the wall. You watched him from the corner of your eye as you both continued to make your way to Cannibal Town..well Alastor had made the decision to make a quick detour. Pulling you away from prying eyes, he had you pinned against a wall as he bit down on your neck. Not hard enough to bite a chunk out of you, no..he couldn’t hurt his darling spouse. But he made sure you couldn’t hide the bite he was licking the blood off of…Rosie was going to have field day when she saw you.
4th Time
Now this was getting confused and annoying cause you don’t exactly know when your darling Husband would strike and bite down on you like some chew toy (..not that you aren’t happy about that), but it’s causing you to be paranoid as much as you love your husband, you’d rather not have to keep watching over your shoulder every second just to make sure your husband isn’t going to bite you. But you had let your guard down when cooking with him, well..you were in the kitchen reading as Alastor was cooking dinner. He had forbidden you from cooking after you had accidentally set the stove on fire. You don’t even know how it happened but allowed him to take control of the flames. 
Looking up, you notice as he was standing beside you a lovestruck look on his face. It wasn’t long until you were swept away into a dance with him singing along to a tune in his own head, you let out a soft laugh allowing him to spin you away before pulling you back into him. The dance had ended with a gentle kiss as he realized that his focus was needed back on the food that was still cooking. But before you could pull away from his hold completely you once again felt his sharp teeth dig into your cheek. Letting out a soft grumble from his antics only to be met with a deep chuckle and the feeling of his tongue smoothing out where had bitten, likely wiping away any blood from your cheek before his attention was once again enraptured by cooking.
Biting Back
Alastor watched you as you talked with Charlie but your gaze kept falling onto him causing his smile to grow into a wicked one. Oh he was getting to you and he was enjoying it. How much longer can you keep that facade going? Could he finally break that little perfect facade you had or would you keep it up? Only time would tell. He tilted his head watching as you quickly excused yourself to walk towards him, “Is there a reason you are staring me down, Alastor?” You asked and he chuckled, “You’re losing yourself, Dear.” You sent a glare towards him before walking off. You knew he was right, you knew he could see right through your facade. You were his spouse after all, his confidant. But what he didn’t know is that you had a trick up your sleeve. Something he won't see coming.
You were going to wait until a private time to surprise your lovely husband but then he had to leave for an abrupt meeting with the overlords about new territory. You stood at the front doors with him, fixing his precious suit jacket as he watched you, a soft look in his crimson eyes. “There we go,” you hummed, wiping his jacket lapels down and motioning him down. He playfully rolled his eyes but bent down towards you, gently kissing his cheek, before biting down on his cheek and walking off. Not noticing how he jumped and stood straight up before letting out a loud laugh, “Is that all you have, Darling? Look at those teeth! Can’t rip flesh from bone!” He called out at your disappearing figure, oh you just started a game that you wouldn’t win.
Extra
Angel looked over at Husk who was busy shuffling Uno cards while the others sat around, “So….anybody else think their fuckin’?” He asked, causing Charlie to choke on her drink and the cards to fall out of Husk’s paws. Vaggie sent him a glare as Nifty laughed and Pentious blushed. “Watch it, Angel.” Husk growled out sending him a glare before glancing over to where you were fixing one of the beer taps on the bar, currently in your own world. “What? C’mon Whiskers, you have to know something about them.” Husk rolled his eyes collecting the cards up again as Nifty chimed in, “Oh they are married!” Husk coughed and glared at her causing everyone around to look surprised. “What? They…They married Smiles? Like…they wanted to?” Angel asked as Husk sighed nodding.
“They’ve been married for a few decades now.” He whispered out as Nifty nodded watching as he started to deal out the deck of cards. “But they are so sweet..very helpful too.” Charlie whispered out holding onto Vaggie’s hand and Husk sighed. “Listen..they are as bad as him but they tend to hide it more. They tend to like the game of cat and mouse more than him. But none of us pose a threat to them so they back off. But enough..focus on the game.”  Husk grumbled as Angel rolled his eyes grabbing his cards.
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eiightysixbaby · 7 months
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horror movies & chill
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word count: 2.6k
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.
cw: SMUT - 18+ MINORS DNI. this is literally porn with a smidge of plot, sorry not sorry. mask kink, choking, degradation kink on the low (eddie calls reader slut/whore), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie
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The TV screen lights up the dark living room, flashes of different colors streaking across the space. You sit on the couch, blanket draped over your lap as your knee bounces absentmindedly. Your boyfriend had wandered off to get something, and now you sit alone in suspense as the girl on screen figures out there’s a killer in her house. The movie goes eerily quiet, the lone heroine peering around her silent home. You know what’s coming next. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that when it gets too quiet, a jump scare is right around the corner.
And yet.
You scream in unison with the girl on television, two hands gripping your shoulders from behind just as the fictional killer grabs his target. You spring up off of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor in a heap. You spin around, frantic, your body gone cold for a moment. Wicked laughter erupts in front of you as you get your bearings, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
“God dammit, Eddie!” you shout, hand over your heart as you attempt to steady your breathing. “You absolute asshole!”
Eddie’s doubled over behind the couch, a cheap Halloween store Ghostface mask covering his head. He’s still laughing, trying to get words out and failing.
“Baby…” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even though he’s trying to be serious. What a dick. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get you that good,” he says, walking towards you.
“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you reply, but nevertheless you let him grab your arms, rubbing soothing patterns on the skin.
“I know. I am, baby, you’re right. That was mean,” he agrees, nodding his head beneath the black and white mask. You know he'd be giving you puppy-dog eyes if you could see him.
You can’t help but laugh, the initial panic leaving your body. You must’ve looked petrified, and you’re a little mad he scared you so badly.
“You’ll have to make it up to me,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
Eddie’s head cocks to one side, sympathetic, playing it up for you. “Of course, sweetheart. And how do I do that?” he asks, stepping slightly closer to you.
He wants a genuine answer, but you find your breath hitching in your throat. Maybe it’s the way his fingers rub circles into your lower back. Maybe it’s the heat radiating from his body onto yours. Maybe it’s the sound of his labored breathing beneath that sweaty mask that's getting to you. You press your thighs together, suddenly feeling too hot for such a cold October day.
And Eddie can see, through the mesh eye cutouts, the way you bite your lip just slightly. He can see the way your lips part but no words come out, the way you tilt your hips closer to his. And he definitely feels the way your fingers hook into the belt-loops on his jeans, drawing him in.
“Oh my god. Are you into this right now?” he asks, voice dripping with his smug attitude. He’s grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat, if only you could see it.
You don’t answer right away, shifting on your feet. You look down, not sure if you have the gumption to tell your boyfriend the god damn Ghostface mask is turning you on right now. You were scared shitless mere minutes ago. But the way your heart pounds now is completely different to the way it had before.
“Shut up….” you mumble, your face growing incredibly warm.
“You are so fucking into this right now,” he says, laughing as he gets the last word out.
“Okay, if you’re gonna make fun-” you start, drawing your body away. Eddie doesn’t let you finish.
“Waitwaitwait,” he interrupts, pulling you back to him. “I just didn’t expect it, is all,” he reassures, his voice sounding muffled beneath the rubbery material.
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eagerly anticipating his next move. You can't quite bring yourself to act first.
He brings your body flush against his, two fingers gliding up one of your arms, sending chills down your spine. He leans his face close to your ear, his breathing audible. “I won’t judge if you like the mask, baby,” he purrs, his voice deeper now.
His other hand wraps around your waist, palm pressing into your lower back, pushing your crotch against his. You gasp, goosebumps perking up along your arms. Screams erupt from the movie, the final girl running free from her potential killer. It’s comedic, really, how you’re stood here ready to jump the killer’s bones.
Eddie’s hips roll, just slightly, but enough for you to feel the tent in his pants. You let out a shaky breath, your body seeking him out, wanting him to give you more of that friction.
“What is it, babe?” he taunts. “You want me?”
“Eddie…” is all you get out, a breathy little thing, your hands pressed to his chest.
And then he’s pressing you against the wall, hiking one of your legs around his waist, his crotch pressing against your needy core. One big hand comes to wrap around your throat, cold rings soothing the flames that lap at your skin. He squeezes, making you delightfully hazy, pinning you hard against the wall with his body.
“This what you want, baby? Want me to fucking ruin you?” he asks, voice akin to a growl, squeezing your throat yet again.
“P-please,” you mewl, desperate for more. You know you’re soaking through your panties, practically aching for him.
Something about not being able to see him drives you crazy. Relying on just his voice, trying to gauge his tone. You’re writhing beneath him, grinding yourself against him. He’s so hard it has to be painful, you can feel it even through the layer of denim covering his bottom half.
“Oh, she’s so desperate, huh? Pussy needs me, baby? God damn…” he rasps, and you throb for him.
His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh where he holds it, giving it a sharp squeeze. His other hand removes itself from your neck, tugging down the zipper on his jeans. You undo the button for him, just as eager to get his pants down as he is. His cock stands at attention beneath the fabric of his boxers, begging to be touched. He ignores it for the meantime, though, releasing his hold on your leg and letting you drop it. He makes quick work of sliding your leggings and panties down, fingers collecting the honey that drips from you.
Groaning, he brings his fingers to your mouth, prompting you to suck them. You oblige, mouth opening and enveloping his digits. Your tongue swipes over them, tasting yourself and coating them with saliva. And then they’re pulled from your lips, teasing your clit before slipping into your cunt. Your leg wraps around his waist once more, allowing for a better angle. He scissors those two fingers inside of you, his breathing heavy, sounding almost amplified from beneath the mask. Your hips buck forward, forcing his fingers deeper. One hand grips your side, pinning you back against the wall.
“Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, slut,” Eddie barks, words sending sparks right through you.
His fingers curl in a ‘come here’ motion, your body feeling boneless as you try to keep yourself upright. He laughs, a devious thing, clearly satisfied with how pliant you are for him. You can tell how wet you are from the slick sounds coming from every glide of his fingers, your body so desperately craving more of him. He adds a third finger, prying you open even farther with complete ease, grunting as he feels the way you tense around him.
“Eddie,” you gasp, “f-feels so good.”
“I know it does, baby, I know,” he coos, smirking to himself at the way your body writhes beyond your control. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, hm?”
“Yeah, oh god,” you cry, head tipping back as you moan to the ceiling, his fingers pressing so deep inside of you.
He moans despite himself, your cunt completely drenching his fingers. His cock twitches in his boxers, leaks and pleads for you. You’re a little blurry through the eyes of Ghostface, but he can still make out the way your face contorts in pleasure. He loves making you feel like this, loves having you in the palm of his hand.
“My filthy girl, so fuckin’ wet for me all because I put this mask on, is that it? Really gets you going, huh baby?”
He wanted you to like the mask, if he’s honest, and the fact that it’s working on you is driving him up a fucking wall. He needs to be inside of you, needs to fuck you hard and pump you full of his cum before he loses it.
Three fingers slide out of you, squelching slightly as you suddenly clench around nothing. He yanks his boxers down, merely a hindrance to him, his thick cock springing free. You whimper at the sight of it, chewing on your lip as you watch him wrap his hand around the shaft. He pumps himself a few times, lets his pre-cum drip over his fingers, and it makes you ache. You feel like your body is on fire, you need him so bad, white-hot flames licking up your thighs.
A few more pumps and then he’s releasing himself, hoisting you up so both of your legs tangle around him. He grips the meat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh the best he can. He lines his cock up just right, your cunt glistening with your arousal. And you want to kiss him so bad, you want to feel your tongue against his and you want him to bite you, to suck bruises into your neck. The fact that you can’t almost makes you crazier, spurring you on more. You can only imagine what his face looks like as he sheathes himself inside of you, can only imagine those perfect parted lips as he sighs blissfully.
His cock pushes through your slick folds until you can feel his balls pressed against you, his thick length fully seated inside of you. It’s such an enticing stretch to fit him, your whole body vibrating with desire. He rocks himself in and out, in and out, letting you get used to his size. Your cunt has already soaked him in your cream, you can see it pooling where his body meets yours.
“Fuuuuuuck baby,” Eddie groans, panting beneath the warmth of the mask. “Such a needy whore for me, god damn. So fucking wet.”
You whine, canting your hips upwards ever so slightly, the tip of Eddie’s cock pressing so deep inside.
“She’s fuckin’ soaking me, angel. This pussy loves me, doesn’t she?” he says, thrusting into you harder now. He sets a quicker pace, holding your weight against the wall with complete ease.
“Eddie, Eddie,” you moan, waves of euphoria rippling through every inch of your body. He’s so deep and so big and so good.
Your nails dig into the skin of his back, clawing at him through his t-shirt as he fucks you like it’s his last opportunity. You can hear grunts and strained whines falling from his lips, breath coming out in spurts from exertion.
“Babe, fuck, can I take this thing off? Need my mouth on you baby,” he pants, hips snapping against yours and making you cry out.
“Yes, yes - fuck Eddie!” you moan, nearly screaming his name.
The mask is whipped off in one swift motion, Eddie’s unruly curls sticking out. His eyes are wild, pupils blown with sheer need, those perfect lips of his so pink and plump. His mouth is on you in an instant, kissing your lips, your jaw, his teeth biting at your neck. He sucks on the delicate skin, unforgiving as you hiss at the sensation. His warm tongue laves over the irritated area, soothing you and sending a shiver down your spine. You roll your hips, needing more from him, needing him in impossible ways.
“Fucking Christ, you’re so desperate for me,” he gets out through heavy breaths, his cock impaling you over and over. His cocky demeanor doesn’t waver, hands squeezing your ass, smirking when you whine at him.
Filthy noises fill the living room, wet smacks as your dripping pussy sucks Eddie back in for more more more. He glances down to where your bodies join, his dick shiny with your juices. Eyelashes flutter as he looks back up at you, pulling your face to his to kiss you harder. His greedy tongue roams your mouth, his lips demanding in the way they move with yours.
Eddie can tell you’re getting close by the way your eyes roll back into your skull, the way your pussy keeps squeezing him so tight. Your brows knit together as you focus on how good he feels, eyes pinching shut.
“Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet girl,” Eddie instructs, fucking you faster. “Look at me when I’m making you feel so good.”
Your eyes open, big and glassy as they plead with him. You’re so ready to snap, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as Eddie abuses your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair - something you’d missed while he’d had the mask on - and tug, drawing a throaty groan from him. His balls are slapping against the skin of your ass with each rough thrust, fingers digging so hard into flesh you’re sure you’ll be sore tomorrow.
Those big brown eyes of his are incredibly dark, his lips parted as he watches you slowly unravel right before his eyes. You feel yourself about to tip over the edge, about to let go, and he can see it on your face.
“Gonna cum for me, dirty girl? Little slut’s gonna cum all over my fucking cock?” he taunts you, every single word sending bolts of electricity right to your core.
“Gonna cum so fucking hard, Eddie, oh my god,” you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering to a close as you reach your peak.
You’re delirious as you cum, your walls squeezing Eddie so fucking tight. Strings of curse words are falling from his lips as he chases his own release, drawing it closer and closer as you completely soak him. Movements get sloppy, not aided by the slippery mess you’ve created, and Eddie’s breaths grow staggered.
His cock pounds into you one, two, three more times before his hips stutter, hot ropes of cum filling you. You can just barely feel the way he twitches inside of you, every last drop of his release pouring out. Both of you settle finally, catching your breath as you come down from your highs. Eddie sets you down, your feet hitting the ground once more. Your legs feel like rubber, like you might crumple to the floor if it weren’t for the fact that he’s holding your waist and pulling you in to him.
You look down at the floor, the crumpled mask staring up at you, mouth gaping in a perpetual scream. You’re dizzy with realization of what's just happened.
“You’re fucking unreal,” he says finally, tilting your chin up so your eyes will meet his. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know…” you admit, cheeks growing hot. “Something about that damn mask,” you smirk at him, getting a waggle of his eyebrows in response.
“I can go to the store right now and get more… who do you want next? Michael Myers? Jason?” Eddie jokes, smiling when you scoff at him.
“Just make sure to keep the Ghostface one around, okay?” your shy request has him grinning, his tongue running over his teeth.
“Oh, you’ll be seeing more of him for sure.”
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snaileer · 9 months
Text
Practice Your Skills
“You ever look at someone and wonder how hard it would be to get past their defenses and stab them?”
Damian snapped his head to the side, looking at the young boy now standing beside him.
The boy put his hands up in front of him with a wince, “Not that I ever do that. Totally not, whaaaat???”
Damian huffed and turned back around to watch the gala participants.
“It’s just you kinda looked like you were contemplating the logistics of stabbing Mrs.Halterguild for squeezing your cheeks.”
Damian scowled. Then, after a moment’s beat, “It would not be very difficult. She is nearly blind in her left eye, I would be able to approach without repost.”
The kid hummed, turning back as well before motioning to another group to the far right, “What about Mr. Beckensmith, he’s a retired vet right?”
Damian rolled his eyes and scowled harder, “The man has only seen the battlefield of an office as he bribed his way from being fully enlisted and instead managed to pay for increasingly higher ranks and medals. He is a disgrace.”
The kid cocked his head to the side, looking suspicious for a second and then nodding with concession, “Fair enough, I bet I could get close enough too.”
Damian scoffed.
“What, don’t believe me?”
Damian leveled a doubtful glare at the civilian, making it clear by looking him up and down, “Hardly.”
The other smirked dangerously, “If I can get close enough to poke him and get away without being noticed, will you believe me?”
Damian narrowed his eyes but nodded succinctly and watched as the boy immediately took off, making a few loops around other people before finally backing up to Mr. Beckensmith and poking him on the opposite side as a group moved past.
Damian pursed his lips. Interesting. Certainly better than he would expect from an amateur. And an amateur civilian at that.
When the boy returns to his side Damian brushes off the asks of meaningless praise.
“Come on, I did it, now you have to go poke Mrs. Halterguild without getting caught.”
Damian sneers, “And why would I do that?”
“Because I don’t believe you either, the woman’s old but I bet she sees you and squeezes your cheeks again. Old ladies just have a sixth sense for that stuff you know.”
Damian nearly growls but sets off on his task. He makes sure to stay on her left side, but the woman turns at the last second, forcing Damian to use a passing waiter as cover to remain hidden and finally get close enough to poke her gaudy dress.
Then he sidles back up to the boy on the edges and provides his best ‘I am more capable than you’ scowl. The boy simply laughs and says, “Who’s next?”
They spend the night like that, choosing each other’s targets to attack non-lethally as though they were attempting to stab them, and Damian finds the gala going by in a significantly less tedious manner.
Right up until the boy laughs at him when he chooses a target. Only one bark of laughter escapes, but it is enough for Damian to consider stabbing him as well. If only with a butter knife.
Instead, Damian grinds his teeth and asks, “What is so different about Masters, do you really believe you would be unable to succeed?”
The other gives a breathless chuckle, “I’m pretty sure even you wouldn’t be able to successfully stab Vlad Masters,” The boy’s shoulders sag even as his jaw tightens with irritation, “He sees everything.”
Damian narrows his eyes. Something naws at the back of his brain but currently the critique of his capabilities takes precedence.
“I would be capable of stabbing Masters even without my favored sword,” Damian scowls and stands taller with annoyance.
“Sure you can, man,” At this, the boy quirks a sharp smile, “If you can actually get him, I’ll personally get you a magic sword,” he says with an air of amused indulgence. Like he thinks Damian is some insipid child saying he will find a fairy.
Damian grits his teeth and shakes the other’s hand, then immediately sets off after his target. How dare this civilian question him! He is the Son of the Bat, this is not even a challenge!
Damian growls as his approach is thwarted for the third time by the man turning in his direction and almost spotting him. How dare he! He will not fail!
Just as he reaches to jab the man in the side, already poised to make his escape, Masters whips around and clamps his fingers around Damian’s wrist with a vice grip.
“Really Daniel I thought we were over-“ Masters pauses, looking at Damian critically as he glares at the man’s offending hand, “You are not young Daniel.”
“Remove your hand from my person at once,” Damian growls.
Instead of listening to Damian’s very sensible directions, Masters tightens his grip and twists his arm, most likely in an attempt to hurt him.
“Now why is a child attempting to-“
Damian doesn’t wait to hear the rest of the man’s words, sliding a dagger into his other hand and swinging towards him, until that hand is caught mid-movement as well.
“Heh-Hey there!”
Damian snaps his head to the side just in time to see Grayson take his dagger and slide it into his pocket. He ignores the bark of laughter he hears from across the room.
Masters’ hand disappears from his arm suspiciously fast, “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure!”
Damian looks over his other shoulder to see his father standing behind him, a thin smile on his face, “Vladimir!”
His father’s figure quickly obscures his vision, putting an arm over Masters’ shoulders in a way that clearly makes him irritated but forces him to follow as he is steered away.
“Dami, I thought we talked about the stabbing at formal events,” Grayson says through a strained smile as he looks over the crowd to make sure no else saw.
“Tt, it was merely a demonstration of my skills, he was in no real danger until he refused to release me. I simply sought to correct that mistake.”
Grayson pinchesthe bridge of his nose, “Demonstration for who, Dames? We all already know your skills.”
“Tt,” Damian scowls and turns away.
Instead of pushing it, Grayson simply sighs heavily, “Just stay out of trouble for the rest of the gala okay? We’re almost done.”
Damian scoffed and waited for Grayson to leave. Once he does, Damian finally looks over to where he had been lingering with the boy.
Gone.
Clearly he’d taken the cowards way out when he’d seen that Damian had been accosted by Masters.
Pitiful.
Damian spends the rest of the night scowling from the wall and looking serendipitously for a head of black hair and blue eyes unrelated to him.
Of course it’s not until they are actively leaving that Damian sees him and immediately splits off of from his family.
He approaches with irritation, preparing to grab the other by the shoulder when suddenly he turns around and blue eyes meet Damian’s green.
“You,” Damian sneers.
“Me,” The other shrugs. He has an amused smile on his face, though it’s strained at the edges.
They stare in silence for a minute, before the other’s smile grows and sharpens once more, “I didn’t expect you to actually try to stab him, y’know,” A slight laugh escapes him, “Not that it was unwelcome by any means, but still, unexpected.”
Damian scowls again, glaring at this foolish civilian.
“Oh, I never introduced myself did I?!”
The boy exclaims and holds out a hand, smile dangerous, “Daniel Fenton. Or if we’re being technical,” a pause as Damian finally returns the gesture and finds his hand trapped, “Daniel Masters, a pleasure to meet you Damian.”
“Hurry up little badger,” A voice says beside them, and Damian notices that it is indeed Vladimir Masters.
The man approaches, placing a heavy hand on Fenton’s shoulder, making the boy go taut, and then they both step into a dark car, leaving Damian on the front steps.
Damian’s anger flares and he shoots a glare directly to the boy getting into the car. It dies the moment they meet eyes and Damian sees the fear hiding in the other’s eyes.
Fear that Damian is all too familiar with.
Fear that reminded Damian of himself. Reminded him of his own eyes when he’d been under his grandfather.
But why did Fenton look like that?
7K notes · View notes
mostly-imagines · 15 days
Text
Dear God Get Out
jason todd x fem!reader
aka not a moment of privacy
warnings: mild sexual activities, more people than jason would ever want in your apartment during those times
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The second Jason’s through the door his arms are out, seeking to pull you into him. You let him engulf you in his arms without thought, this being the first time you’ve seen him all day.
“Missed you.” He mumbles into your shoulder.
You hum and rake your fingers through his hair. “I know, my love. Missed you too.”
He pulls back to look at you and holds your neck gingerly in his hands. “You’re good?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod and kiss his collarbone softly, wrapping your hands around his forearms. He gives your forehead a kiss and walks you backwards to the couch, leaning down over you until you have to sit.
He follows you down and kisses your lips and guides you backwards to lay. He drapes himself over you, inserting himself between your legs. He refocuses his attention to your neck, and sucks at a very particular spot below your jaw that you know he targeted on purpose.
“Okay, that’s not fair.” You breathe out, halfway to a sigh.
“No? How ‘bout this?”
He nips at you, startling you to a near moan. Your reaction only encourages him, as he holds your jaw and tilts your head to the side for more access.
He slips his hands under your shirt, grazing the skin underneath. He leaves open kisses all across your collarbone, trailing them down your stomach once he has your top off and strewn half away across the room.
You stop him, pulling him back up to you for a kiss. He furrows his brows at first, only understanding when you start to pry at his shirt too. He removes it for you, tossing it with startling accuracy right by yours.
He resumes kissing down your body, hands trailing down your sides along with him. He peppers kisses on your thighs and hooks his fingers into the seam of your underwear, readying to remove them.
It’s almost astonishing how silently he'd managed to open the window only to stumble and flail his way to the floor.
The sudden clatter scares the hell out of both you and Jason, who jumps to a stand immediately.
“Tim!”
“Evening. D’you guys still have any—oh.” Tim finally regains his coordination and stands up to see you sprawled out on the couch, bra and underwear your only cover.
His eyes go to the floor real quick and Jason lets out an exasperated sigh, looking around for something nearby to cover you up with.
“—you know, wait up means wait up!”
Oh good, Dick’s here too.
You sit up quickly and try to cover yourself with your arms, though there’s not much of a difference you can really make.
Dick ducks in from the fire escape and lands significantly more gracefully than his counterpart had.
It takes him no time at all to assess the room and see you, knees to chest on the couch, trying very hard to appear as though you’re not half naked. Takes him even less time to see Jason, standing in front of you, fuming.
“Oh. Oops…”
Jason chucks the tv remote at Dick and uses the distraction to pull you up from the couch, pushing you behind him. His massive frame is more than enough to cover what his brothers have no business seeing.
“Get the fuck—”
And just for good measure, Damian jumps down next and crouches in the window.
“Jesus Christ,” your boyfriend mutters, hands covering his face in exasperation.
Damian takes one glance at the room and grimaces—Tim’s eyes are glued to the floor, Dick’s acting as though there’s something very interesting on the ceiling, and Jason’s shirtless. He can’t quite see you behind Jason, though he doesn’t need to in order to guess what he’d just walked in on.
“Ugh, seriously Todd? That’s disgusting.”
You let your forehead hit Jason’s back, thoroughly embarrassed. He reaches back to caress your waist, and you know somewhere in that action there’s a reassurance that he’s going to get them out as soon as humanly possible.
“Yeah, seriously. This is our apartment, demon brat. Get out.”
“Maybe we should come back later…” Dick suggests, more awkward than in his usual character.
Jason glares up at the heavens. “Or never.”
“At least keep it in the bedroom, you animals.” Damian chastises.
Jason suddenly wishes he hadn’t thrown the remote so soon. “Our apartment.”
He looks back at you without moving the shield of his body, eyes apologetic. You meet gaze and turn your head to rest your cheek on him instead, your own hidden meaning of reassurance. It’s fine.
You can’t see them but you hear a shuffle and hope to god it’s not another vigilante.
You place a hand on Jason’s lower back and peer around his shoulder, seeing Tim turned back around towards the window and trying desperately to get Damian to move out of the way—Damian, seemingly having no regard for Tim’s urgency.
You’re not quite sure if it’s over discomfort or embarrassment in seeing you so undressed, or if it’s because his self-preservation kicked in when he saw the look on Jason’s face. Maybe both. Probably both.
Both.
“Will you stop?” Damian slaps his hand away. “We came here for a reason.” He looks past Tim at you, “Do you have—”
“No.” Jason cuts in, growing visibly more agitated.
Damian’s face contorts as he looks back up to Jason, “What is your—”
Now Dick cuts in, “Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just ask the old man.”
“Great.”
Dick pauses. “On the couch though, Jaybird?”
Jason takes a deep breath.
“Alright, ten seconds, then I get the gun taped under the table.”
That’s warning enough for Damian—he’s called that bluff once before and learned the hard way.
Tim doesn’t even take a second glance before hauling it out of your apartment, his cape getting caught on the window frame briefly before he scrambles away.
Dick calls out an apology to you before trailing out the window after him.
Jason lets out a heavy exhale and turns to you, hands gliding naturally to your waist.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “Don’t need to be.”
He gives a low hum and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he crashes down onto the sofa.
“Should I feel bad about almost railing you into the couch?”
“I wouldn’t waste any tears over it. Not like it would’ve been the first time we did it.”
He laughs and tugs you further into his chest. You curl into him and close your eyes, thinking.
“Jay?”
“Hm?”
“How did Tim survive as Robin?”
“I’ve been asking that question for years.”
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2K notes · View notes
dilfsfordinner · 11 months
Text
“Mi amor- ngh, a- ha-” Miguel’s voice was reduced to nothing but ragged syllables slurred together, groans spilling from his lips as he bullied into your now raw and sore cunt.
Scarlet eyes were glued to your face, watching as you writhed beneath him, droplets of sweat sliding down your flushed neck, your eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows drawn up, mouth releasing little pants and moans of his name.
“Y/n- ay carajo-” he choked out, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull your attention back to him, “look at me.” With fluttering eyelashes, your watering eyes opened to latch onto him, a light groan leaving his lips at the look on your face, your expression the effect of his very targeted pace. His hips continued to snap into yours, your knees bent to cradle his shoulders, thighs pressing against your chest in a mangled hold.
Your husband wasn’t someone one would call careful, especially when it came to himself, but with you waiting for him at home he found it his personal duty to always make his way back to you. His recent mission had gone awry and he found himself hanging on the edge between life and death, the image of you in his mind his only motivation to keep pushing, and when he did come back home, you were immediately subject to his burning hunger, his need to protect and prove to himself you were safe only satiable through the form of intimacy you both loved most.
You had been in all sorts of positions already, your current being the favorite, your pliant body bent basically in half to take him. His heavy cock continued to stretch your insides to the limit, every vein lining his shaft catching on the ribs of your walls to ignite hot, blinding pleasure throughout your body.
“Araña, Migs- s’too much,” you panted, your eyes looking down to where you connected, your most sensitive area now red and practically gleaming in your shared liquids, cunt literally sucking him in, skin wrapped taut around his shaft as he pumped in and out. You couldn’t help admire him as he took you, his skin glistening with sweat; his dark hair messy, stray pieces sticking to his forehead; his muscles rippling from exertion, pure strength lining his arms as they cradled you.
“I know-” Miguel whispered, his fingers carding through your hair as he kissed along your neck, “Corazón.. I know you can take it for me.” With his sweet words, he upped the intensity, strong legs aligned with the backs of your thighs as he pushed into you, his thick cock now completely sheathed in you. It was a feeling like none other, some pain mixing with your pleasure to enhance your senses, your lips letting out little cries as he thrusted into you, his cock visible underneath the sheet of skin covering your belly.
His movements seemed endless, every ushered word and tender kiss infinite, the only end you ever felt being the snap of pleasure in your core accompanied by a surge of thick liquid filling you, a heavy body collapsing atop your own. Miguel wasn’t careful, no, but when it came to you, he found his apathy slowly turning upside down into the pounding desire to protect and provide.
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mi amor- my love
ay carajo- oh fuck
araña- spider
corazón- sweetheart
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delulujuls · 2 months
Text
i'd give you the whole world if i only knew its price | ls18
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am i a lance's girlie? no. am i becoming a lance's girlie? dont look at me
he seems so sweet idk why people hate on him
summary: lance's love language is giving gifts and when it came to giving something in return he'll accept only one way
warnings: none
pairing: fem!bffreader x lance stroll
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The little girl sat on the curb, tears streaming down her rosy, tear-stained cheeks. In her tiny hands, she held her shattered helmet, unfit for further use. The girl wasn't crying because her father had scolded her for accidentally damaging the helmet. Instead, it was because, until she could find a replacement, she wouldn't be able to race with the other kids. That is, if there were any funds available for a new one.
Seeing the seven-year-old in tears, a slightly older boy, aware of the reason behind her distress, approached her with his newly purchased helmet in hand, crouching down in front of her.
"Here, you can have mine."
The girl stopped sobbing as he sat beside her, handing her the helmet, which she hesitantly accepted.
"I can't take it, my dad doesn't have any money left."
"You can take it, I always have two helmets with me."
The boy smiled at her, but uncertainty still lingered on her face. He glanced toward his father, who stood under one of the tents, observing the children a few meters away. Seeing the tearful face of the girl and the joyful expression on his son's face, he also smiled slightly and nodded.
"See?" he said, squeezing her hands that held the helmet. "My dad agreed. You can take it as a gift."
"Really?"
While her face was still wet from tears, her eyes no longer radiated sadness. Looking into the brown eyes of the boy, he nodded and he stood up, extending his hand.
"By the way, I'm Lance. Now, come on, it's about to start!"
"Please, Y/N, don't be like that."
The boy slumped onto the hotel bed, closely watching the girl's face on his phone screen.
"I'm sorry, Lance, but I can't."
She replied, her phone propped up against a coffee mug, engrossed in browsing job listings on her laptop.
"Why can't you just take it as a gift?"
Y/N scoffed and shook her head.
"Every month you give me some gift, Lance. Last month, as a 'gift,' you bought me a Birkin bag, and I don't even want to know how much it cost."
"You said your bag was falling apart, I wanted to make you happy."
She sighed and shifted her gaze to her phone. Lance looked at her attentively with his puppy eyes, visibly concerned. He wasn't seeing any problem here.
"The bag is gorgeous, and you have no idea how much joy you brought me," she said with grattitude in her voice. "But even a simple Target bag would make me happy, you know?"
"Yeah, probably. But this one is okay too, right?"
She laughed and shook her head.
"It's beautiful. Thank you very much."
Hearing her words, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing her smile, he did the same.
"So, if you want to repay me, let me fly you to Bahrain."
She lowered her gaze, and the smile faded from her face. Barely scraping by on bills and struggling to find a new job, spending her remaining money on plane tickets was the last thing on her mind. Even if, it could cover just one ticket.
"I can't afford to visit you, Lance."
"That's why let me take care of it. We haven't seen each other for so long, and I want to finally see you and start this season together," he said, looking at her worried face. Money meant nothing to him; he could send a private jet to pick her up, just to have her with him. "Please, Y/N."
She sighed and shook her head.
"I feel so embarrassed. I'll never be able to repay you for all of this."
"So, is it a yes? Can I book the tickets?"
He asked, hope in his voice, and a smile slowly crept back onto his face.
"Fine, but no more gifts this month, okay?"
"I'll try to meet that condition."
Lance and Y/N had been friends since the day he noticed her crying next to the carting track, holding her damaged helmet. They remained friends through all the years of go-karting, and their friendship persisted even when Y/N had to give up racing due to financial reasons.
At first, though she shudders at the thought even now, she hated Lance with every fiber of her being. It wasn't him she despised, but the obscene amounts of money his father had, providing him with everything he could dream of. Y/N was aware that Lance had both many fans and critics, so every time she came across unfavorable comments about him online, she felt embarrassed. After all, she used to cry and curse him every night, even though deep down, she didn't hate him; she just disliked the situation he was in, which she was not allowed to have.
Lance himself knew that without money, he would never have entered the serious world of motorsport. Numerous training sessions, expensive lessons, academy tests – Lance knew that money secured his current position, but talent couldn't be bought. He knew he could drive, and even the people who hated him online knew it too, disliking him simply because he succeeded. Being in Formula 1 cost the Canadian a lot, as he constantly felt like he didn't belong there. Even in the paddock, despite rarely facing personal comments, he knew many saw him as the boy with his daddy's big money. Lance often felt lonely, so he deeply appreciated every moment he could spend with Y/N. No one was as important to him as she was.
However, Y/N focused on being an ordinary teenager after giving up her motorsport career. She finished high school, got into college, even found a job and rented an apartment. Although her life didn't unfold exactly as she wanted, she stayed connected to motorsport through Lance, whom she supported as much as she could. Now things were getting complicated again as the season was about to begin, meaning she could only cheer for him from her couch. But for Lance, there were no such limitations. If he could solve a problem with money, he would. Furthermore, Lance found immense joy in showering Y/N with various gifts. Giving her presents was his love language, something that Y/N had no clue about.
"There she is."
Lance smiled at the sight of his friend, who stepped out of the taxi in front of one of the Bahrain hotels. She returned the smile, hugging him.
"I was talking about the bag, but it's nice to see you too," he teased, pointing to the Birkin she was holding, prompting her to playfully nudge him. Lance chuckled and embraced her, taking her suitcase and leading her inside the hotel.
"I hope the flight was okay and you're full of energy because we're going to a team dinner tonight."
"So, basically your dad is inviting us to dinner?"
She asked jokingly, looking at him as they entered the elevator.
"Technically, yes, my dad is inviting us to dinner."
Y/N laughed, "Well, Lawrence Stroll can't be refused."
Shortly afterward, they were on the right floor where both of them had their rooms. Lance handed her the key card and when she entered her room, she noticed a bouquet of roses and a small package on the bed.
"Lance..."
Turning around, she saw him biting his lip, trying to hide his smile.
"Yes, yes, I know, we had a deal. But these roses were practically free and the little gift next to it is, let's say, a shared one."
He explained, putting aside her suitcase. She also placed her bag down and approached the bed, picking up the bouquet of white roses. She smelled one and smiled, feeling their pleasant fragrance. Lance smiled too.
"You're impossible, you know that?"
"Open the gift."
He encouraged her, leaning against the wall.
She smelled the flowers once more and put them aside, taking the small package wrapped in black ribbon. As she untied it and unwrapped the light-colored paper, she discovered the familiar shade of green. It was a long, satin dress with thin straps, in the characteristic color of Aston Martin. She smiled to herself.
"I guess this is for tonight's dinner?"
Lance nodded, "Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful," she ran her fingers over the fabric, "I hope you have a shirt in the same color."
He chuckled.
"Don't worry, I won't disappoint you."
Indeed, at the agreed-upon time, Lance showed up at her door, wearing a shirt in the same color, black jeans, and matching shoes. He smiled at the sight of his friend, who opened the door ready to go.
"You look gorgeous. The color suits you."
Y/N laughed and closed the door behind her.
"That's good because otherwise, I would have to wear the white dress I brought with me, and someone might think I'm supporting Haas."
Lance laughed at her words, pleased to spend these few days with his friend. Honestly, he only stopped feeling lonely when she was around or when they had the chance to talk on FaceTime. Of course, it wasn't the same as having her physically by his side.
The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere and time flowed effortlessly. Lawrence invited everyone who had arrived with Aston Martin to Bahrain, so instead of reserving a specific number of tables, Lance's father rented the entire restaurant for the evening.
Celebrating the team's excellent work during the winter months, the tables were adorned with champagne and white wine. Y/N had forgotten how weak her head could be, so after two glasses of wine during dinner, a slight buzz started to occupy her mind. Apologizing to Lance under the pretext of going to the bathroom, she stepped outside, sitting on the balcony. Despite being February, Bahrain offered pleasant temperatures, and even after the dark, a warm breeze caressed her exposed arms.
"Here you are."
The girl jumped, hearing his voice.
"You weren't around for half an hour, and I had the waitress check if something happened to you in the bathroom."
"I needed some fresh air."
Y/N replied, smiling at him. She noticed Lance's steps were a bit unsteady and a blush adorned his cheeks. When he sat next to her, she giggled.
"I can't believe we got tipsy."
Lance chuckled and rubbed his face with his hands.
"I won't lie, I'm feeling a bit dizzy."
Still giggling, the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Lance wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek on her head.
"I'm glad you came."
"I'm glad you invited me."
"I'd give you the whole world if I only knew its price."
Hearing his words, Y/N raised her head and looked at his face. His brown, gentle eyes gazed at her affectionately and a faint smile played on the corners of his lips. Lance tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.
"I hate that I can't give you anything in return."
Lance smiled, "Actually, there's something you could give me in return."
The girl raised her eyebrows inquisitively.
"You could be my girlfriend."
Y/N blinked several times, unsure if her slightly intoxicated mind was playing tricks on her or if she understood Lance correctly.
"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"
"Oh, God, you have no idea how much."
The girl smiled and, without saying a word, cupped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. Lance hugged her even tighter, returning the kiss, feeling a burst of fireworks in his stomach. He could bring her joy with money, and she could do it in just one way.
"I love you, Lance."
With love.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
Text
Price of a Coverup
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, kissing for cover, grinding, neck kisses, mentioned sex work, teasing, as sfw as I could make it
Word count: 1.2k
Ao3
A/N: I can't, why is she so hot? Also I have a spicier version of this in mind so stay tuned!
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The only thing that sucked more then having to sleep with men who don't care about you is waiting for them to approach you. You were able to count the number of men who actually cared about your pleasure as well on one hand, so you weren't exactly holding out hope for this night to be any different. To make it worse, it was damn cold out, with the only light and warmth coming from the houses inside, and most of the noise too, safe for a few shouts in the distance.
Said shouts got closer and closer with every couple of minutes and were then accompanied by the sound of running and cursing.
"Excuse me, can I ask-" You felt a hand wrap around your wrist before you could respond. You were met with the bluest eyes you've ever seen, but the face of the person it belong to was layered with pain, annoyance and slight fear. Looking down you saw a sword at the samurai's hip, with a fresh splash of blood. "I need your help."
"Help costs money, samurai." Mizu flinched at your tone and let go of your hand. Given that there was blood on the sword you knew this one would be some kind of trouble.
"I knew I should have killed them all." She mumbled under her breath, "I have some people chasing after me, luckily I don't think they saw most of my face in the dark, I only need you to cover for me until they pass through."
"Cover for you? How do you mean?" You watched as Mizu patted down her body, looking for something. "I'm not saying no, I'm only asking what you need."
Her head turned when the shouting grew closer, almost around the corner now, "I need you to follow me and play along. Is this enough?"
"Is that... how much do you have on you samurai?" The amount of money she was offering you was more then you made in the brothel for the whole month. Of course you pocketed it immediately. "Alright. What do you need me to do for you."
"Thank you. Uh..." She looked around frantically, her orange-tinted glasses almost flying off her face, "This way." Taking you by the hand she lead you in-between building's where the lighting was dimmer and obscuring your bodies and faces. You've been pinned down against walls many times for payment but Mizu was the first who looked so nervous and conflicted about it. "I... I have not done anything like this in a while."
She handled you with so much care when she cupped your cheeks. She was on the run, likely covered in blood many times over and this is where she stumbles? "Do you want me to take the lea-"
"I want to kiss you." Framed as a statement rather than a question was her clever way of not making a bigger fool of herself. The footsteps grew closer and closer and so did Mizu's handsome face. Her lips were softer than what you were used to, exploring your soft ones rather than just taking what she wanted. "You taste sweet."
"I am a prostitute. My job is to be and taste sweet." You husked against her lips as you pulled her closer, "Just like your job is fighting or hire, we use different tools but at the end of the day we do what we're payed for."
Mizu let out a barely audible chuckle, "I suppose so. Although your line of work is more pleasing to most people. Mine is... less so depending on the target." Her line of was also a whole lot messier, well yours was too, but there were more bodily fluids involved with her work at least.
She inched closer again, the kiss started out slow, only deepening when you wrapped her arms around her and pulled her in closer. Mizu sucked in a breath as she felt your tongue glide against her lips, asking for her to open them and have your own taste of her. There was a slight taste of copper in her mouth, probably left over from whatever fight she was just in. You can make her forget about that, even as the voices grew closer. Almost upon you.
"Can you hold me up?" You asked against her lips.
"What? I believe so?" Mizu didn't understand why you'd need her to but from what you could feel under her clothes she was fairly strong.
"Then hold my thighs. I promise you will enjoy this." You teased before you wrapped both legs around her hips, her sword digging into your thighs a little but you didn't fall. She was holding you, her rough warrior hands smoothing over your tie to find the best spot to hold you from. The rest of her strength came from her body, which was now fully pressed against yours.
Her lips pressed against yours, expressing a lot more passion then before, her tense muscles starting to relax against you the more you rolled your hips and arched into her. You were soft everywhere, while she was hardened by the battles and betrayals and years of running and training for her goal. When she pulled away she saw your smudged lipstick, the lipstick which was now on her own lips. "It tasted sweeter on you. Let me return it."
From sky to stormy blue her eyes darkened somewhere along the way from one kiss to the next. Instead of kissing your lips she went for your neck instead, nudging until your shoulder was bare and free for her lips.
"Moan for me." You heard those words many times before but not in that husky, sultry tone, usually really rough and aggressive. You had to fake it at those times, but when it was this handsome samurai saying it while starting to roll her hips like she was fucking you, well then there was no need to fake it.
"I heard a noise! This way!" Mizu cursed against your neck and spread your legs a little wider. Hopefully she couldn't tell feel you shiver at the action. Mizu hid her face closer to your shoulder when the lantern light shone on the two of you, she added a slow lick down your skin to make you moan again.
"If you want a turn you have to stand in line." You heard her chuckle against your shoulder. You were braver than she thought.
The men who saw you rolled their eyes in annoyance, "Fuckin whores... at least do it behind closed doors." They scurried away quickly but Mizu didn't stop kissing you, or biting you, or rolling her hips into yours.
"While I am happy you enjoy this, your enemies left and if you wish to take this further we really do need to go inside as they said." You felt her lips still on your skin, you knew she was considering it. She gulped, kisses your cheek fast and let you gently back down to the ground. "Is that a no?"
"I really cannot stay here. If they ran forward they will most likely circle back around. I need to get ahead of them before that happens." Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, saying the words her mouth wouldn't. "Thank you for your help. It must have been scary for you."
You giggled at her concern, it was more than anyone has shown in since you started this line of work. "I have seen much scarier people than you." If only you knew who you were talking to in that moment. But it would be several months until you would learn that it was the Onryo.
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wonryllis · 13 days
Text
✶ 𝟭𝟳𝟳𝟱 (𝓥 ) SATAN'S IMAGINATION, AGENT ENHYPEN.
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. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ agent!enhypen hanging on that line between act and reality with AGENT!fem!r. fluff, suggestive. wordcount`1261. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?
PLS REBLOG!!!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he feels his breath caught in a dangerously thin line between staying professional and kissing the hell out of you, your body pressed against him between the narrow shelves. he's probably at fault for blowing your cover earlier but all he can think about right now is the way the light through the windows make your glossed lips glow and your messy hair look sensual. each inhale and exhale a battle against his self-control. "do you think they noticed?" your voice sounds more tempting than ever in the low whisper you let out against his chest and heeseung swears he's fighting demons right now. "i hope not," he sighs heavy, feeling himself leaning into you, getting carried away as his conscience slowly slips and cracks. lips almost brushing when you suddenly look up, wide eyes boring into his,"i think they just walked past," unaware and painfully oblivious of what your partner was about to do to you. of how he was ready to devour you.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 with the biggest lovesick smile ever, jay watches you act coy in your character, gently excusing yourself to the washroom. "act like you want me, but more like you love me," your soft words tingle his ear as you discreetly whisper to him just before you leave the dinner table. are you dense or are you just too professional? there is no way you think the look on his face isn't already giving away his feelings to all these people around the table you're supposed to fool. he chuckles deep and smitten as he stands seconds after,"i apologize gentlemen, but my love needs my help," excusing himself as well. with each step he takes towards you, he realizes the wicked idea you have in your wicked little brain. his heart skipping beats and blood rushing everywhere when you throw yourself at him, dragging him to bathroom with your lips hovering over his making sure the targeted people get a glimpse of it and get the wrong idea.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 jake grins wider as your palm presses flat against his chest first and then fingers curl to mimic a gun, your tips emulating a spark of electricity through his veins, feeling the blood pump harder in his heart. "you better not take advantage of our cover to steal kisses, sim," it is crazy how he feels disappointed yet amused at the same time, you doing this right now is the hottest thing ever but you refusing to let him kiss you later is a tad bit upsetting plus you knowing he loves to do that has him dazed. "can't promis—" his breath gets knocked out mid sentence as you grab him by his tie and smash your lips together in a sloppy and short kiss. "that's is all you can have for the night, focus on the mission agent three," now that was hotter than the hottest thing you could have ever done to him, and you decide to do it right before work. oh how he wishes he had kissed back harder and show you just what you'd be missing out on later.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 his eyes scan across your rather overly feminine dressed figure amble over to him, stance seductive and alluring in the red cocktail gown he helped you pick hours ago. "that was disgusting," he says as soon as you stop beside him. he was glad the mission was successful and he was so glad he picked this dress for you. feeling a sense of pride that he has always been the first one to see you dolled up and that he has always been your date and that he has always been gotten to take you home at the end of night. the only thing he feels jealous about right now is that while he has always been all that, it has always been the targets who get to feel you all up and who get to see your siren side showing them how it would be if you were interested in them. "well it wasn't for you anyway, mr hotshot," you bite back and sunghoon almost breaks on the verge of exposing that he'd die for it to him, for you to seduce the heck out of him.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 the hawk-like focus sunoo had on you seemed so normal to you both, you didn't even realize when it turned into something possesive and unfitting for agents just working together. perhaps it was for the reason that you two had been paired up together for couple missions, or perhaps it was because you both trained together everyday. there was this sense of belonging you had developed, unaware of how it was changing things in your work dynamics. "your gaze is so fake, come on baby i know you can give a more sultry one, remember our practice?" sunoo speaks through the in-ears, his eyes locked with yours across the other end of the vip club, watching you try to seduce the target. the sparkle of tension crackling in the air as you held the eye contact, sunoo's ego blasting at the back of his mind knowing he's the only one who's seen the real thing. "just imagine it's me, and finish it up so you can actually come back to me,"
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 his gaze is envious and bitter, feeling his blood boil over the revelation you just made. "so you know him well?" the tone being one of grudge and spite, he continues to watch you strap on the weapons around you body. places under your dress where one would probably not have the chance to touch, unless it's him. which amplifies his jealousy to a staggering height at the realization that the target you are chasing this time probably has touched you in those places before. maybe even more than he has. the dismissive nod you respond with, makes jungwon's impatience fly through the roof, walking closer to trap you against the table where the weapons laid. "better than me?" the air thickens with implication of his words, jungwon himself is unaware what the undertone of it means. if it's how well you know him or if it's something entirely different, something that makes him want to leave kisses down your neck like he did the last time.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 his breath is laboured as he helps you rush out the pool, your fancy dress drenched and heavy weighing you down more than he'd anticipated. quickly you both find a spot in the showers to hide, squeezing into a single booth. he's brisk and sharp, giving you a hand in stepping out your wet dress into the latex suit underneath. letting you put your weight on him, your hands holding onto his body while you undo the strings and sleeves. the possibilities of getting caught are on high alert yet riki can't find it in him to focus on anything besides you. the way you look so hot in your agent attire, your hair wet and sticking to the sides of your face making you appear so cute in contrast to you getting ready to fight men a step outside the door. he has always found it so attractive, and the thought of admitting it openly just makes him more dazed. his fingers reach out to push away the strands around your eyes and lips, thumb brushing a second longer on your lips, "i really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers into your ears, lips grazing against it softly.
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries
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abigailmoment · 5 months
Text
It wasn't just bad luck that Staeve was targeted. It was a calculated attack. Halsin knew well enough how a caster could examine their enemies for tells. Halsin did it himself. Considered an opponent's tactics, and guessed at the places their mind would be most vulnerable.
You didn't have to be a gifted empath to watch how Staeve hurled himself into the thick of combat, right at the biggest bandit wielding the two-handed great sword, and think that the man might be vulnerable to a spell that exploited wisdom.
The fact that it took down Astarion too, well, perhaps that one was just bad luck.
It happened like this:
-
This is written about @velnna's Tav, Staeve. I was delighted to discover that they don't mind fan fiction being written about him.
I'm always cautious about writing for other people's OCs--getting voices right is so important to me. I have elegantly avoided that issue here.
-
Full text below.
Full Text On AO3
-
The fight was an incidental bit of banditry. Dangerous banditry, certainly. Bandits with  great swords, supported by wizards. Halsin hung back with Gale while the two rogues dashed forward to give truth to the old adage that the best defense was killing the other fellow extremely quickly. 
They cut down the man with the great sword and the woman with the mace and shield. Reinforcements were coming from around a rocky overhang. Halsin coaxed the earth to throw up entangling vines to slow them down. Gale drenched them with glimmering light that illuminated all their vulnerable points for Astarion and Staeve to shoot at.
Only the half-orc made it through the vines and the light. He was bloodied and wrathful. He was huge, but it was two against one, and the two were flanking with each other. It would have been an easy end to the combat, except that apparently there was a bandit wizard hidden somewhere in the trees who chose this moment to cast a spell. 
One second Staeve was a blood spattered half-drow sprinting full-tilt, sword out, towards a fighter twice his size. And then he was gone.
Some sort of teleportation? Banishment? Gale was saying something about trajectory and scanning the treeline. Halsin was yelling, he wasn't sure what, the concern was more important than the words. He started running forward. Because two rogues against a barbarian was fine, but one rogue against a barbarian was an extremely fast way for that rogue to die.
And Astarion knew that so he should be running away. But he wasn't running away. He was darting forward and ducking low and almost getting hit by a greataxe as he snatched something off of the ground. 
Then he was running, thank the Gods. There was something cradled in his arms, which meant he didn't have his rapier out as he scrambled back.
It was a cat. Halsin saw. They were ten feet away from each other when Halsin realized that Astarion was carrying a large, extremely upset tabby cat with grey-green fur.
That was when Astarion vanished. No. Not vanished. As the tabby tumbled to the ground, something small and white was already there, darting for cover. 
Then the half-orc arrived. Bellowing and huge, at least when compared to cats. Not quite as huge when compared to Halsin. 
Halsin decided to turn into a bear. It was amazing how many problems you could solve by turning into a bear. 
-
"I am feeling my oversight in not preparing dispel magic today," said Gale. "Or counterspell."
"This is not a situation we could have anticipated," Halsin said.
Staeve contributed to the conversation, but because of present circumstances, it came out as a meow.
He was large for a cat. His fur was pale brown, tabby-striped with green. His stripes crisscrossed in a way that reminded Halsin of his tattoos. His scar was a fur-less groove in his face. He had the same pale green eyes as always. That color was quite appropriate in a cat.
He meowed again, more insistently this time.
"We will," Halsin assured him. 
"You're speaking with him?" Gale asked. 
"Not magically," Halsin said. It had been a long day and he had barely anything left to cast with. "But I think I understand him."
"Do you?"
"Think a moment and I am confident that you too will guess what he wants from us."
It did only take a moment. Gale was an intelligent man, when prompted. And they'd all seen the small white cat vanish into the woods during the bear-orc fight.
"Ah. Of course." Gale addressed the cat, voice reassuring. "Astarion should be relatively safe though. Polymorph is temporary and even if something did happen to him in the interim, he would just revert to his natural form."
Staeve's whiskers went back and his ears went flat in a thoroughly unimpressed way. 
"I think it would be best to find him and make sure nothing happens," Halsin said with mellow diplomacy. 
"Of course." Gale paused, then said delicately: "Given my skill in woodland matters, or lack thereof, I may best serve this cause by getting out of the way."
Halsin smiled. "It is a wise man who knows his limitations."
"I'll meet you all back at camp then?" said Gale.
"Take a potion of invisibility for the trip," Halsin suggested. "There might still be bandits about."
Staeve had gotten impatient with them, and was padding off into the forest. Halsin handed Gale the potion and hastened to follow.
-
Staeve scampered about the forest like he was looting the place. No hole, hollow log, wasp nest, or brown recluse spider-web was left uninvestigated. The loss of seventy five percent of his gray matter had done the man's already flagging survival instincts no favors. Halsin spent half of his attention looking for signs of a small white cat, and half of his time making sure Staeve's efforts at tracking didn't get him killed.
After being only a hairsbreadth quick enough to pull Staeve away from the entrance to a dire-badger-burrow Halsin decided that his partner was now going to be carried. Staeve made a meowling, writhing objection. He was terribly invested in the search. A compromise was reached when he was offered a perch high on Halsin's broad shoulders. Staeve proceeded to clamber from shoulder to shoulder as Halsin walked, ears always forward and alert, eyes bright, head turning this way and that as he scanned the woods.
Small cats with stealth training were not easy things to track through dense forest. Halsin did end up using his last spell slot to cast speak with animals. The local mice and voles always noticed when predators passed, even small ones. Halsin spoke to them while keeping one hand on Staeve, who watched the tiny creatures with bright, newly interested eyes.
Halsin of course spoke with Staeve as well, but it wasn't quite the same. Talking to a person who had been transformed into an animal was not the same as talking to that person. Shape changed you. How you saw things. How you thought. The mind of a cat was a fraction of the size of that of an elf or half-elf. Thinking with it was different. The change was easiest for druids. It was hardest for the cursed, who did not choose the new shape. Who were surprised by it.
He spoke to Staeve and learned things he had already known from observation. He reassured Staeve that the mice had given useful guidance.
That guidance led them north, then west, and then to a long hollow log, moss covered and broken in two places. A good hiding spot, and the sort of shelter that had a lot of escape routes. Staeve jumped off of Halsin's shoulder as the druid knelt down and they both peered inside.
In the darkness, Halsin could just make out a pair of ruby-bright eyes staring warily back at him. 
Beside him, Halsin watched Staeve relax for the first time since becoming a cat. He wasn't actually as large as Halsin had first thought--it was just that his hackles had been up and his tail puffed out for the duration of the transformation.
It could be a painful thing indeed, to have one's heart so completely entwined with another's safety. A deeply worthwhile thing, but a painful thing, sometimes. 
Halsin made a deferring motion to Staeve, who nodded in a rather un-catlike like way. Halsin stepped back from the log, moving slowly so as not to startle anything. He shifted a few feet away and sat close enough to watch, but far away enough that his looming size wasn't an ominous thing.
Staeve didn't go inside the hollow log. He sat at the entrance. Lay down at the entrance, body long and casual, head up on the lip of the log so he could keep looking inside. Modeling relaxation.
He started to purr. Halsin could hear him purring even from a few feet away. A loud, constant, soothing rumble. It somehow did not surprise Halsin that Staeve had a loud purr.
And then Staeve waited. Patient as anything. Waiting and watching and purring in a low buzz, as steadily as a beehive.
Halsin could not see inside the log, but he could guess at when Astarion moved because Staeve's ears would flick. Staeve had a fine poker face, but everyone had tells. 
Something happened, or occurred to him, that made Staeve raise his head and sit up slightly from his sprawl on the ground. Then he stood up entirely. He gave Halsin a significant look, and trotted off into the underbrush. 
Conscious that he had just been assigned new responsibility, Halsin shifted so that he had a good view of the log's entrances and everything around it. There wasn't much danger, Halsin’s presence in general kept most predators away from this space. But still.
During his vigil, Halsin saw the glimmer of red cat-eyes once. And only briefly. 
Staeve came back soon. He had a dead vole in his mouth and he looked exceptionally pleased with himself. He dropped the vole at the mouth of the log, took a few pawpads back and watched expectantly.
It took another long minute, but after that minute a small white cat crept out of the darkness.
This should surprise no one, but Astarion was a beautiful cat. Slender and graceful with large eyes. His fur was pure, silvery white and just long enough to curl slightly. He moved with a cautious precision that Halsin recognized as his habit, and that deeply suited his new form. 
He sniffed at the vole. He shot Staeve a judgmental look, because Gods forbid the man accept any kindness without prevaricating about it in some way. He glanced at Halsin. And then he leaned down to slide exceptionally long canines into the corpse's chest.
Staeve flopped down about a foot away and watched him with an expression of pleased devotion that would honestly be a bit more appropriate on a dog.
Astarion ate fastidiously, and without getting even a blot of blood on his snow-white fur. When he finished he licked his teeth.
When Staeve was quite sure Astarion was done eating, he sidled up slantwise, sauntering around the vole corpse as if he just casually happened to be taking a stroll in this part of the forest for no particular reason. He stopped just short of Astarion. His ears were forward. His tail flicked lightly from side to side. 
Astarion regarded him levelly with his 'I know what you're doing and I know you think you're being clever about it but you're not' expression. Then, as if granting a boon, he deigned to rub his forehead gently against the underside of Staeve's chin.
Staeve took this as the invitation that it was and pressed back, much more enthusiastic and honest in his delight at the contact. Which in turn gave Astarion an excuse and space to do what he wanted and enjoy it.
They were always very dear to watch together. Whatever form they took. In about a minute they were curled over each other on the ground and Staeve was industriously grooming Astarion's head.
Halsin let this go on for as long as he could. But the shadows were lengthening, and they were very close to the Shadowlands, and he was out of spell slots, and the rogues were currently housecats.
"It is getting late, dear ones," he said softly. 
Astarion twitched at the interruption, and Staeve licked him three times along the neck and chest in a soothing way. Then they disentangled from each other and padded over to Halsin.
Halsin picked up Staeve, but he knelt down and laid his arm on the ground so that Astarion could climb up and find what perch he wanted by himself. They did both end up in his arms. Staeve was tired and quite ready to be carried, and Astarion didn't want to be out of contact with him.
As Halsin walked through the woods with an armfull of cat, Staeve started to purr again. It was really the most marvelous sound. A soothing distillation of satisfaction and care. Almost enough to tempt one away from being a bear.
Astarion did not purr. Some cats didn't. Or purred only very rarely. But Astarion did, at one point, look up at Halsin and blink his bright red eyes very slowly. 
And that was a precious thing.
****
Other stories like this.
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etchstar · 21 days
Text
COD characters and how i think they’d act when they are in a secret relationship with you
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═══════ ⋆ghost⋆ ═══════
✮ everyone would know, not only because simon would refuse to go easy on you in bed, despite the thin walls and ruining his team mates sleep schedule, he didn’t want you to ‘hide those pretty sounds you make for him.’
✮ He would refuse to take his eyes off you during training, making sure to pay close attention to where his teammates hands were placed. One time price had to hold him back from Gaz after you happened to straddle him during a take down.
✮ When the squad realised it was probably best to just let you train with him, you know he would sneak in some cocky praising. He’d love to pin you underneath him and watch you try and squirm your way out as your stubborn nature only turned him on.
✮ Would definitely lie to you about missions if he felt that you would be put in danger, this annoyed you a lot.
✮ Was always by your side if you were on a mission, he would get mad at you if you strayed from his eyesight, often when you get a kill you’d be met with a stern glare from ghost for putting yourself at risk. only to be met with a spanking later that night.
✮ Would fuck you til you couldn’t walk, and when you wake up there would be a note telling you he was on a mission and to ‘not worry’ cause he ‘hadn’t finished with you yet’.
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═══════ ⋆könig⋆ ═══════
✮ So distracted, whenever price was going over a mission outlook, König would often zone out watching you sort out your pens in coloured order, highlighting information about the target, sometimes cutely chiming in with study of your own to help the group out. He’s thankful he wears a mask otherwise everyone would be able to see his tinted pink cheeks as he tries to readjust the tent in his pants.
✮ You would take König’s protectiveness over you and use it against him in training. If he were to flip you on the matt you were quick to let out a small whine which caused him to loosen his grip and quickly inspect you for any damages he did to your small figure, keeping in mind the size and weight difference between you.
✮ It all began when you needed König’s oversight on your research of a target. You burst into his room not realising the fact that the man was on his bed stroking his cock to the thought of how you’d managed to make him feel during training. When he saw you in there he was quick to cover up expecting you to run, or be horrified at what he was doing with how innocent you are in his eyes, but instead you dropped to your knees in-front of him.
✮ You LOVE teasing könig, mainly cause he won’t do a thing about it until the end of the day when he would force his member into you often cooing to you as he cradles you in his arms letting you adjust to his size as your pussy spasms on his cock letting out small whines into his neck.
✮ Was quick with medical attention, no matter what it was. Once you cut your finger using a knife cutting up salad, guess who was beside you with a first aid kit, bandaid and a kiss for your finger to get better. Ghost quirked his brow seeing this interaction remembering the moment könig dislocated a man’s shoulder tackling him and doing nothing about it.
✮ Found it so cute the way your small hands gripped the guns and how you’d often complain after carrying around a hefty weapon all day.
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═══════ ⋆keegan⋆ ══════
✮ You and Keegan had a— rough beginning. To say the least you hated each other, anything you did Keegan had to do better and when he finished he’d just stare at you with those emotionless eyes pissing you off. That was before the team had busted a large undercover operation, going out for drinks to celebrate, causing you to wake up in his naked arms seeing his face for the first time.
✮ After that it was purely sexual, you still were silently competitive often trying to prove who was better, or who could make who cum first.
✮ After doing extended research on a target, price decided to give you your own mission allowing you to take Keegan, Soap and König along to a meeting breaking down the perps daily routine and secret doings still feeling those burning eyes on you the whole time.
✮ Keegan couldn’t explain it, he was infatuated by you, your constant drive to do better, the way you moved with such grace while controlling a knife, not to mention the face you’d make when he hit that certain spot inside you that made you let loose and forget about your seemingly one sided competition you had against him. When you’d melt on his cock and turn from soldier to slut for him shaking your hips trying desperately to drive him deeper.
✮ One day in training when it was just you and Keegan you’d managed to get him on his back quickly straddling him laughing at your victory over him, before you realised Keegan had lost control pulling you into him kissing your lips passionately before fucking you profusely in the middle of the training room.
✮ After that all you and Keegan seemed to want to do was find ways to sneak off during training and come back to each other risking the team finding you fucking like wild animals in the most inconvenient of places.
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═══════ ⋆price⋆ ═══════
✮ You worked in the infirmary, acting as a worried nurse to the team, often scolding Ghost when he would go too hard with training and keeping the base tidy adding a woman’s touch here and there.
✮ You wouldn’t find out about price’s feelings for you until the teams base was invaded after tracking a terrorist organisation. Seeing you held in his targets arm with a knife against your throat as you tried to reassure the team to stay calm as tears stained your cheeks
before price put 3 bullets in the man’s skull. You were a bit shaken up for a while but that didn’t stop price from continuing your duties forcing the team to clean up after themselves and getting a new bouquet of flowers every week for the vase in the infirmary.
✮ It wasn’t until price was injured and sent to you that you had gotten to properly thank him, removing his shirt and working on his wound trying to ignore his built torso and rippling muscles before he tucked a hair behind your ear whispering how beautiful you were, yeah that’s it, your lips met his in a passionate slow but rough kiss.
✮ The team didn’t miss Price’s extra visits to the nurse and they certainly didn’t miss the lipstick prints on his neck or the undone fly of his pants leaving the infirmary.
✮ Price’s new found interest let the team have some more control over meetings, training and dinner, realising that the two people who acted as their parental figures started retreating to the same bedroom every night, rather than cooking dinner or joining for a movie before bed. Not that you were sleeping anyway.
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═══════ ⋆soap⋆ ═══════
✮ You and soap were polar opposites, while you believed strategy for a mission came down to planning and being organised soap constantly undermined your set up immediately going for the throat no matter what the circumstances, although most would find it brave and inspiring you found it plain fucking stupid. You were always yelling at him trying to make him understand the risk he was putting him and his teammates in by not listening to you but all he seemed to do was smirk at you before teasing you about the fact that you’d go a light shade of pink when you were mad that he thought was cute, once more undermining your anger.
✮ That was until one mission, soap went in doing the wrong thing the wrong time again not sticking to schedule, guards had alerted the target who had made a quick escape ruining the mission. The team came back to their base all understandably pissed off but none as livid as you. You’d stormed into soaps room demanding an apology before he’d have you pinned against the wall nipping your neck. That night he took the anger of the failed mission out on you.
✮ The next day soap made a point to start planning the next mission going over your studies gathering locations of where the target could be before putting you in charge of a plan that he’d promise to follow.
✮ It’d worked, using a small camera and earpiece you were able to tell soap exactly what to do and when to do it while letting him handle the combat stuff successfully bringing down a large drug pin. The team cheered to your name raising their glasses before downing the alcohol and letting loose for the night. You thanked Soap for listening only to be met with a heated kiss dragging you to the toilets for a quickie.
✮ The next mission was easy, soap didn’t need your lead but insisted on having you in his ear anyway. Unfortunately it was the same day your vibrator arrived in the mail, you decided you’d try it out and let soap have a listen, that was until the earpiece cut out.
✮ Your door slammed open that night revealing an angry soap, throwing his earpiece on your side table demanding an explanation as all you did was give him a cheeky giggle. That was before he fucked you senseless of course.
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krypticcafe · 1 year
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Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.
Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys
Love your writing so much ❤️
As Long as I'm Here
rating: mature
pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro
warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read
a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?
synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.
Part Two is now up!
"I'll be back before they know it."
Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.
No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.
It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.
By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.
Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.
Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!
Click!
Clickclickclick!
Shit.
Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.
Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.
"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."
The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.
Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.
"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"
"..."
"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"
"Affirmative."
"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"
"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.
"Ghost?"
Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.
"You alright, L.T?"
"Solid, just need a talk with Price."
"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.
"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."
Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.
He didn't want to wonder.
"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.
"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.
With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.
Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."
As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.
"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.
"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.
Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."
"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.
"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.
"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.
Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.
"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.
"We give them hell."
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roanniom · 1 year
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About this post, he would like know all the little known tricks too, like he’d pick up guy and girl-targeted magazines in order to gain as much knowledge as possible. The man is a nerd, he’d absolutely read up on giving a girl head. He knows the ‘come hither’ motion, he knows how to pay attention to the clit, he knows about pacing, and you bet he knows about the ‘seven pleasure points of women’ from Friends.
Critical Hit
Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering
I’m just imagining Eddie Munson looking at you naked for the first time and just freezing. You think it’s cute and so you’re all gentle and sweet and encouraging and you just lay back and let him explore you.
But within 0.5 seconds he’s got his fingers in your pussy and his mouth on your tits and he’s sucking and thrusting and rubbing and you are writhing beneath all the attention.
“I thought you didn’t know what you’re doing!” you accuse with a yelp, eyes rolling back in your head.
He pulls off your breast with a pop and looks at you with a furrowed brow and wet, pouting lips.
“I have no idea what I’m doing!” he insists anxiously. But his fingers keep fucking you and your legs try to close in on his hand, back arching off the bed.
“What the fuck, Munson! Are you hustling me? I’m - mmm - it’s been like five minutes and I’m already - fuck!”
He perks up at that, using the hand not inside you to pet at your clit. The pressure is irregular but somehow exactly what you need??
“You’re already what?” he asks. Incredulous and eager and way too much like a puppy. “Do you mean you’re gonna cum?”
“Fuuuck…” you whine, dragging a pillow over and covering your face with it, really in order to bite into it. You feel embarrassed about being so easy for him, and for assuming he’d be some lost teenager when it came to your body. Virgin or not, Eddie Munson was playing you like one of his guitars and you were about to snap.
“No no don’t hide! That’s not fucking fair,” Eddie all but whines like a petulant child, tugging at the pillow till you let go of it weakly. His eyes blow wide and his fingers pick up the pace on your sopping wet, clenching pussy. “Are you…are you drooling? Cuz of me?”
You swipe at the errant spit left at the corner of your mouth from biting the pillow and frown.
“Shut up.”
“That’s fucking hot, Princess,” Eddie says with reverent awe. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You go to respond but can’t because he switches the direction of the swirl on your clit and suddenly you’re coming with a soundless moan that has you gasping open mouthed. Eddie waits patiently through your convulsions, staring at you wide eyed till you drop, spent, back into the sheets. Only then does he punch the air with his fist.
“That seemed like a critical hit of an orgasm if I do say so myself.”
“A critical…wha?” you pant, still not fully back to yourself yet. Left fuzzy and dizzy as you stretch your legs and savor the delicious ache.
“So in DND when you roll a natural 20 - ,”
You throw a pillow and smack him square in the face before he can say another word.
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