#however! if this is true then What The Fuck is in the basement

[cameronspecial]

Need the rafe and reader locked up in a room 🙏

Don't Stain The Carpet

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Heated Make Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Topper and Kece were sick of the fighting. It was happening all day, every day now and they just wanted it to stop. They might even prefer the days when the two would be caught in a heated makeout session instead of an argument. So, they devised a plan to get the exes on a more cordial playing field. “Dude, I don’t know what’s wrong with it. One moment it’s running fine. The next, it won’t start,” Topper complains, leading Rafe down to the basement. The other boy grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. Just show me where your laptop is. I don’t know why you called me for it. I’m not fucking IT support.” Topper throws him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “But you are good with computers.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Stop being a kiss ass. I’m already here.” 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Topper shuts up and steps out of the way so Rafe can pass through first. The tall man thinks nothing of it and enters the finished basement; however, when he is face to face with his ex-girlfriend, suspicion overcomes him. It is too late though because as he turns to leave the room and ream Topper out for this setup, the door is locked behind him. He rushes to the door, trying to open it even though he knows it is locked. “Topper, you little shit. Open this door.” He is met with silence, so he steps away from it and turns toward Y/N. “What are you doing here?” he questions. 

She rolls her eyes, “Top said he needed help picking out a gift for his mom. Why are you here?” They both know they have been lied to. It’s obviously from the fact that a laptop isn’t in sight and two separate reasons as to why they are there. 

He glares at her. “Oh, you know, Top said I could meet the Queen of England so I thought wow, I gotta get there. Why does it fucking matter? It was a lie.” She scoffs, “See, that. That is why I broke up with you.” He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “One. The breakup was mutual. Two. What. What is the reason you ‘broke up’ with me.” She holds out her hand and motions up and down, “Because you are an ass. That’s why. You only care for yourself and that’s it.” 

“Oh, please. We both know that isn’t fucking true.” 

“Right, sorry. I forgot about drugs and alcohol. Those might be pretty high up your list.” 

“STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”

His yell has her flinching back and he takes a deep breath while running his hand down his face “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her arms cross and she stands straighter. “You shouldn’t have,” she chastises. “Look, just because we are locked in here together doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ll go see if a call can get through. I mean we really should’ve seen this coming. His basement doesn’t get any signals.” 

With her final mutterance, she storms away from him. Her back hits against the wall and she slides down it. He observes as she pulls her phone out, hearing the familiar music of the cat game she enjoys playing sounds through the room. He smiles at the memory of her turning onto her stomach after an eventful night of love-making to play the game. He would always make fun of her and then rest his chin on her shoulder to watch her play over her shoulder. She used to get so excited when she would find the cat she was looking for. A crease in her forehead forms and he laughs. The noise has her staring at him over her phone. “What?” His hand extends toward her hand, “Didn’t get the cat you wanted?” her gaze flicks down to her phone with a frown. God, she hates how much he knows her. “Yes,” she whispers, slouching in embarrassment. 

Silence occurs on them. He shuffles over to the couch and decides to stroll down memory lane. His thumb swipes through the pictures. Her smile is so bright in this one and the sun hits her just right so it adds an extra shine to her eyes. He should’ve deleted all their pictures together when they broke up but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them. So he hid them away in a folder and promised to never look at them again. He hates that a distance has grown between them. He has to fix it.

“The only thing I ever cared about other than myself is you,” he mumbles. “Hmm,” she sounds out, not looking up from her phone. He clears his throat, “I cared- I mean I still care about you. Maybe even more than I care about myself.” He takes a second to think about it. “Actually. I definitely care about you more than myself.” The tone shifts in her room and she puts her phone down. He heads over to her, settling on the floor beside her. She looks him in the eyes and her vision has blurred. “Then why weren’t you there? You promised you would be after all the other things you skipped. The worst thing was that you wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He bites the corner of his lip and reaches into his pocket for his keys. He grows through his keys and holds them out to her, “I was out getting this. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” She takes the key ring into her hands and a shiny diamond stares back at her. “You were buying me a ring,” she murmurs. He nods, “I wanted to marry you and I know that this wouldn’t have made up for all the other things I missed, but I was hoping it would show you that I was committed to being with you.”

Everything she has felt for him for as long as she has known him comes cropping up and she takes a chance. “Do you still want to marry me?” she questions. His hand rests on her cheek, “More than anything else in the world.” She grins at him with tears leaking out of her eyes. “Then let's get married.” She presses their lips together and swings her leg over him. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her in closer than possible. As she begins to grind down into him, a loud crash comes from behind him. “I wanted this to work. However, I didn’t want this to work this well,” Topper gripes. Rafe’s eyes narrow at him. “Get out,” Rafe growls at Kelce and Topper, who are standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Kelce and Topper look at each other with a nod. Topper grabs the doorknob and pulls the door closed. “Don’t stain the carpet!” Topper’s voice pleads through the door, causing the newly reunited couple to laugh together.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

[pochapal]

this specific statement of "no one could have been in the boiler room" being written in italics for emphasis is. it's making me Think Things

#umineko liveblog #italics aren't really used in this story very often so when they are deployed it must be important #the important thing here is the firm belief that it is impossible for anybody to be in the boiler room #everybody is accounted for by the guestroom which makes sense #except then you remember that kinzo is 'missing' and in theory should be able to wander about the place #but this statement definitively excludes kinzo as a possibility #he is unable to be in the boiler room and slam doors in the boiler room #ie he is not included among the living people #ie the servants have no reason to believe he is alive #ie...................................................... #however! if this is true then What The Fuck is in the basement

[puckarchives]

basement yard conversations: l. hughes

blurb: in which you overhear luke say that you’re much more attractive than him while he’s talking to jack and quinn.  / word count: 1.7k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The conversation had taken place on the back deck of the Hughes Family lake house, and to be fair, you don’t think you were supposed to be particularly privy to it. It was nearing almost 11 PM at night, and you had just come out of the shower— clean and sun kissed and reveling in the after effects of a day well spent out in the sun with your favorite boy and your favorite family. 

This was the second summer you had spent with Luke, and by default, the entire Hughes gang as they took a much deserved rest in the off-season, now that both the Devils and Canucks had ended their seasons. So, with you being off from college and the boys not starting their training for at least two more weeks, you had opted to spend some time at the lake house in Michigan. 

That particular day, you had spent most of your morning (and afternoon, if you were being honest,) out on the lake, simply laying on the boat or joining in when the boys began wakeboarding— falling a few times, but ultimately being able to hold your own before Luke had jumped in with you, and caused you both to go tumbling into the water. 

From the boat, you could hear both Jack and Quinn laughing at you and Luke, both of you making your way over to where they had stilled in order to let you reboard, and where Luke readied himself to begin his turn— which didn’t last long, as he began swaying to the point where he just simply fell over. 

Once the four of you had come back in, it was straight to the shower for you— a moment to wash off the lake water and reapply aloe vera before your skin began to get dry. 

Walking towards the back porch, you could see the boys huddled around the fire pit— Jack and Quinn sitting in their designated chairs, and Luke in a larger seat, waiting for you with a blanket in his hand. As you walked closer however, and before you could open the screen door, you overheard a snippet of their conversation— something that always surprised you, as their conversations could exist on a spectrum of simply talking about dinner plans, to them arguing over who the most problematic Pokémon character they played with growing up; currently, Charizard was in the lead because, as Luke had stated a few weeks prior, you can’t spell the world ‘Charizard’ without ‘hazard,’ an explanation that still made no sense to you, but that the boys had agreed to almost immediately. 

Stilling at the fragments you could piece together, you could hear Jack repeating that he “definitely did have it,” but that for him, “it was louder than it was for Quinn.” You didn’t know exactly what “it” was referring to, but quickly pieced together your answer as Quinn spoke up.

“It’s like, the internet thinks I have no rizz. I got called a fucking wet cat the other day,” he said, waving his hands around. It was true— you had seen the tweet first, and then sent it to Luke, who promptly sent it into their group chat. So that’s what they were talking about— rizz. 

Although you didn’t know exactly how that had come up— when you left, they were discussing the intricacies of Zegras’ worst choices— it was still a novelty to take in— the way that Quinn would talk in his broody way, only exacerbated by the winces he would occasionally give off because of his gnarly sunburn, whereas Jack was all excited hand movement and loud laughs. But it was your boy, specifically, who had all of your attention— Luke’s soft smirk on his lips, the way he would wait until either boy was finished talking before including his own thoughts, and the way he would keep egging on his brothers. However, you didn’t miss the way he would open his mouth to say something, but automatically be either shut down, or have to wait for another turn to avoid interrupting his brothers. While Luke may have been a killer on the ice, he was still the youngest brother— caught up in trying to work his hardest to be on the same level as his brothers, but still always beating himself up for it. 

You didn’t think there had been a day where Luke went without comparing one thing about himself to his older brothers— whether it be simple comments about how he needed to get faster in order to compete with Quinn’s own speed, or even have better hand-eye coordination in order to keep up with Jack, it was always something that he lacked, and he never paid attention to the things he did have— things that you loved about him, like the way he would always bring his brother’s up in conversation— always with a smile on his face, and always reminiscing on their childhoods. He never spoke ill of anyone, (even when they deserved it,) and when he had hurt another player on the ice a few weeks back he had made it a point to apologize personally, and even send them a card. Luke, for all the faults he saw in himself, had one-hundred times the good parts, even when he didn’t recognize them. 

It was the next few sentences, however, that caught your attention; now, the conversation had switched over from Jack and Quinn’s respective levels of charmism and ability to, as they so eloquently put it, “pull and have game,” to Luke’s, he looked down, still with a small smirk on his face, and played with his thumbs. 

“Well, you see her,” Luke said. “She's definitely much more attractive than me, and if anything, I have the rizz because she was strong enough to get my head out of my ass and see that she had been there the entire time,” he laughed. 

His brothers only egged him on, adding in moments where they saw Luke, quote on quote, ‘have game,’ including earlier that same day, when the four of you were out on the boat. When you had been putting together the coolers for the boys to lug on to the boat, Luke hadn’t missed a beat and, while you were chopping up pieces of fruit on the kitchen island, had flirted with you like he had never met you before, and hit on you. 

“Well hello, pretty lady,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, and flexing his arms above his back. He puffed out his chest in a mock bravado, and continued. “You come here often? Because you’re a sight for sore and beautiful eyes,” he said, scooting closer to you. For as cheesy as he was, Luke loved doing this— hitting on you as if you were two teenagers in the 80’s, and as if he hadn’t been your boyfriend for the past two years. 

“You know, I’d love to take you out on the boat sometime, if you’re free?  I’ll even let you drive it if we leave your boyfriend on the shore,” he said, now with his arms actually up, and him, (once again,) flexing. God, you’re boy was a total softie. 

Your only response was heaving laughter, as anytime Luke got like this it only brought a smile on your face. “Well, sir, my boyfriend would surely be disappointed in me if I just left him on the shore” you jokingly replied. “And besides, he’s old. I’m not sure his fragile heart could take it if I just up and left,” you said, before closing the cooler and making your way outside. 

Luke scrambled after you, only to grab the cooler out of your hands, open the door, and drop it right outside. Before you could ask why, he whistled over at Quinn who was waiting for the two of you on the deck, and scooped you up in his arms, before making his way to the dock, you still laughing, and him looking at you with a look of pure adoration, and, in your opinion— full of love. 

Now, however, as you stood on the other side of the screen door, you opened it, automatically calling all three heads to look in your direction, and, as you walked towards Luke who had his arms open to you, said: “No, Luke’s definitely lying. This man has ALL the rizz. How do you think he keeps me coming back over-and-over for more?” you asked the other two, giving your boyfriend a kiss on the forehead as you stood between his legs and pet his still-wet curls. 

“He can say that I’m the one who got him to notice me, but your brother? The ultimate rizz king,” you laughed, trying to mimic what you heard the gamers on TikTok say about rizz the other day. 

“But, to settle your debate once and for all, I have literal proof of who has the most rizz,” you announced, to which the other two Hughes brothers cheered and egged you on to show them. Pulling up Twitter on your phone, you scrolled through your favorited tweets before getting to one that had made you bust out laughing only days prior, but that labeled what kind of “rizz” each Hughes brother had. 

“According to this tweet, a certifiable source if I’ve ever seen one,” you joked, “Quinnjamin Hughes has the rizz level of a wet cat you want to take home, and of a man that just makes your “I CAN FIX HIM” fever go crazy, Jacket Hughes has the rizz of a man who had a borderline homoerotic relationship and a praise kink all in one, and Lucas Warner Hughes has the rizz of a man who will always shoot up and knows it,” you finished. 

As you closed your phone and set it down, you looked up at the faces of the Hughes dynasty around you— Quinn was shaking with laughter, his head in his hands, Jack was wheezing in the corner over you calling Quinn “Quinnjamin” and the way they had gotten all of their names wrong, and Luke despite the jokes, was looking directly at you. He wasn’t laughing like his brother’s, but instead looking at you with the softest smile. 

“And don’t I know it, sweetheart,” he said.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #hughes brothers #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes

[stevenose]

idk. gang idk. wanna eat this guy’s ass nahimsayin

contains: gender unspecified reader/no gendered language; free use reader; conflicted steve; mentions of steve trauma :( he head hurt; foot massage MILD MILD I PROMISE; oral (steve receiving); rimming (steve receiving); some humiliation going on; ‘whore’ is used both ways hashtag equality; facial (reader receiving)

Steve’s had the worst day of his life. Well, that’s not true - not even close. He has to remind himself of that, as if he forgot, even though the headache currently clouding his brain is a consequence of too many concussions. Actually, thinking about his bad luck just pisses him off more. He almost breaks the key to Family Video while he’s closing up, ripping it from the door so harsh it hurts his hand.

He slams the car door, too. Which makes his head pound. He’s so goddamn tired. And if he has to tell one more teenager they can’t rent porn, he’s going to drive his car into the building. He gets it - really, he does. He used to steal VHS tapes from his friend’s parents and watch it in his basement when he was underage. But now he’s 21 and too old for this shit.

Speaking of porn - blowing off steam sounds great. He sighs as he turns the engine of his car over and leans back. He just has to get home. And maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll be there and you can do that thing you both talked about.

It’s really out of character for him. He’s ready to admit it. Actually, he’s not just admitting it. He proclaims it, over and over - I’m not that kind of guy. But you showed him some real interesting porn and told him about the term “free use” and now he can’t stop fisting his cock to the idea of you choking on it. It’s sore, already straining in his jeans as he traverses Hawkins pothole-riddled roads.

Free use. He can imagine coming home and fucking you over a table, or pushing you to your knees, sure - but actually doing it is entirely different. He doesn’t know how to be mean. He didn’t even know how to be mean when he was an asshole. It makes him nervous, palms clammy against his steering wheel. He does know how to be confident, however, and he tries to lean into that assertiveness as he parks his car and strides towards the door.

Steve’s irritated he even has to unlock it, but you’re right there, sitting at the kitchen island reading the back of a cereal box. Pajamas on, ready for bed. It makes him feel bad about asking and he pushes any thought of getting his dick near you out of his sore brain. But you perk up when you see him, equally eager and shy, tucking into yourself.

“Hi, Steve.”

“Hi.” He stares at you. Stupid.

“You okay?”

Steve takes a deep breath. “I had a bad day.”

You nod, drumming your fingers against your forearm. “Want me to do something about it?” you ask lowly.

Steve nods slowly. He’s still standing halfway through the door like a doofus.

“Shut the door, handsome.”

He blinks, zoning back in to reality. The door swings shut behind him and you make your way over to him, approaching cautiously. Like he’s infected with something. Perhaps just a sour mood.

“Anything you want,” you remind quietly.

He nods again, licks his lips. “Come here,” he says, walking towards the living room. Then he stops and looks back at you. “Please?”

Steve’s so grateful that you’re patient with him. You don’t poke fun or chastise him. You just nod, letting him lead the way as he settles on the couch. He’s also grateful that you take the lead at first, settling on your knees in front of him. Your little fingers move towards his Nikes and you unlace them, pulling his shoes off. He groans low when your hands move to massage his socked foot.

He can’t believe how gross you are. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be into shit like this. Neither should he. He reminds himself he really isn’t into this kind of thing, he’s just into you. But he’s painfully hard in his Levis while he watches you below him.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Steve shakes his head quickly. “No. But you’re sweet.”

You smile. “I know. How’s your head?”

He sighs. “Sore.”

“I’ll get you some advil in a sec,” you promise, moving from one foot to the other.

“Thank you,” he says, sinking into the couch. “You’re so good to me.”

“Yeah?” you goad. Your hands crawl up his thighs and you stare up at him eagerly. “I’d do anything you ask. Anything.”

Steve sucks in a measured breath, lost in your warm eyes for a moment. He leans forward and takes your jaw gently, but firmly, between his fingers. He can’t believe how much your eyes light up. “You can get me some medicine and suck my cock til I’m feeling better.” And then, again, he adds, “Please.”

You hop up, heading towards the kitchen while he stands to strip. It almost takes effort to get his jeans down past his erection, and his cock leaks precum on his stomach once it’s freed. He rolls his eyes at himself, so worked up over nothing yet. He sits back on the couch as you re-enter, bottle and water in hand.

“Come here,” he says again, patting his thigh, and you do as you’re told. You really are so good for him, so eager to please. He takes the items from you, downs 800 milligrams, then turns his attention back to you. Steve wracks his brain for something to say, but your fingers reach out for his scalp. You massage his head and he moans, his hands finding your hips while his eyes drift shut.

“Did you think about me today?”

“I did,” you answer. “Nearly every second.”

His eyes open, half-lidded. “Tell me what you thought about.”

You bite your lip for a moment. “I thought about your, um - well….”

He surprises himself when he swats your ass. He soothes it immediately, about to apologize, but your reaction gives him pause. Your hips grind on his thigh and your pupils go blown, teeth digging in to your plush bottom lip. Your fingers keep working his scalp, soothing the ache, helping him come back to life a little bit.

“Can I just show you instead?”

Steve hums. “Only if you show me how you touched yourself while you do it.”

He hears your breath hitch in your throat. You nod, then cup his cheeks. “Are you okay?”

The tenderness makes him melt. You make him feel like he’ll be alright. Like he doesn’t have a dead end job, like everyone isn’t moving on without him. “I’m great,” he answers, finally smiling. “Got a pretty thing like you on my lap, getting waited on, taken care of….”

“I’ll take care of you,” you coo, sliding off of his lap and back onto your knees before him.

The two of you haven’t fooled around very much. Steve loves watching your reaction to his cock - it gives him the biggest ego boost. He knows it’s pretty. Long and thick, pretty pink tip, a few beauty marks marking the shaft. It curves a little bit upwards, easy to find your sweet spot. He watches you stare at it now, eyes wide, breath fanning over it.

“Please hurry,” he has to say, a little bit impatient.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. Your hand reaches out for his shaft and you slowly pump your hand up and down it. Steve sighs and lets his head rest against the back of the couch. “It’s just so beautiful, Steve.”

Your touch spurs him on. “Beautiful, huh? You like it that much?”

“Mhm.” You lick your lips. “It’s so big, and - and soft….”

You press gentle kisses along the underside of it. Steve curses under his breath. His head falls forward so he can watch you now as you kiss every inch of it. You nuzzle your nose against the shaft, thumb swiping across the head, your tongue giving him kitten licks.

“There you go,” he groans. “Show me how much you love it.”

Your kisses become open mouthed and messy, your tongue getting him a little bit more wet. You kiss up towards the head and swirl your tongue around it, lapping up the precum pooling in his slit. Steve groans again, gripping your hair, and with a gruff “open up,” he slides his cock between your lips.

Your mouth is his salvation. Wet, warm, tight. Steve gasps and moans, hips immediately bucking upwards. You gag and he shudders, hand fisting your hair harder, tangling his thick fingers in it. “It’s okay, g-gag on it, make a - make a mess.”

You moan and angle your head to take a bit more of him, beckoning him to take what he needs. Your eyes are so pretty looking up at him, glassy, teary. It makes Steve frenzied. He bucks his hips into your mouth, reveling in the perverted noises you both make together.

“This what you wanted?” he growls. “Be my personal s-stress - stress toy?”

You moan and nod.

“Touch yourself.”

Your hand makes its way inside your pajama bottoms. You gag as you attempt to moan, throat constricting around Steve’s thick cock. He knows it has to hurt and he scratches your scalp in an attempt to soothe you. His balls tighten as your eyes roll back. He can see your fingers moving in the thin cotton of your sleep shorts and his stomach flips violently.

Steve fucks his hips against your face for a while, sensitive balls slapping against your chin. It’s so goddamn gross and he can’t fucking stop. His toes curl, breaths ragged and shallow, groans and praises falling from his lips. He pushes his cock into your throat as far as it can go, feeling it tense and constrict.

“Take it,” he grits. “Holy fucking shit goddamn you feel so good holy fuck oh my god -“

And when he finally pulls out, giving you a moment to breathe, you don’t pull back. Instead, you duck downwards, kissing and sucking gently at his balls.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, half in pleasure and half in scandal. “Feel - feel how much cum I’ve got for you?”

“Steve,” you moan. Music to his fucking ears.

“Love any part of me you can get, huh?” His blunt fingernails scratch your scalp some more, soothing.

And then you go lower.

Steve sort of short circuits. Now your tongue is on his taint and that is quite honestly not where a tongue should go. He wonders if you even know that’s where you are, and he tries pulling you upwards again. Voice hoarse while he’s saying, “Baby, that’s - oh, that’s - not -“

Your hands find his hips. You pull him towards the edge. And your tongue is really, really where it isn’t supposed to be now.

But Steve couldn’t stop you if he wanted to. It’s like he’s been electrocuted. Your tongue flicks against his hole, innocent, sweet. You even press a cute little kiss to his rim.

“Oh my god!” he wails, throwing his head back. He spreads his legs wider for you. His voice is gorgeous, all scandal, a deep tenor. “You dirty little whore.”

His own reaction shocks himself again, but you moan at that. He can even see your arm moving while you continue to touch yourself. All while your tongue licks broad stripes against his sensitive rim - and who knew he was so sensitive there? His stomach flips and tightens, cock pouring.

“Stroke me off,” he commands, though it’s more of a plea. Your hand finds his cock again and you pump him, tapering your tongue against his hole. Then you lick back to his balls, kissing each of them, before taking his cock in your throat again.

“What the fuck,” he groans, his entire stream of consciousness finding its way past his lips. “This what you got off t-to? Eating me ou- out?”

You pull back, a glint in your eye while you moan. “You’re about to get off to it, too.”

Which Steve can’t argue with. His balls are starting to draw up again and he doesn’t know how he’d like to cum. Down your throat? Or in your hair while you kiss his ass? He wishes he could have both.

His hand grips your hair again and he fucks your face with abandon. You moan non-stop around his length, gagging, drool finding its way down his cock to his balls and beyond. He plants his feet to fuck you like he knows you want, groaning through gritted teeth.

“You gonna cum? Gonna cum from being used?” he grits. “Go on, g-get off, you dirty - little -“

You go a little slack when you do. Eyes all crossed, drool falling down your chin. Steve can’t fucking stand it. He pulls you off of him and jerks himself off in front of you, his face red with effort while you gasp for air.

“Give me your filthy tongue,” he orders.

You stick your tongue out, a blissful, gorgeous expression on your face that Steve is quickly addicted to.

“Gonna cum - gonna cum a-all over your slutty face, just like you wanted - fuck!”

His eyes want to close but he forces them open to watch thick ropes defile your face. His chest heaves with exertion, low groans rumbling from his chest, head still pounding from how much effort it takes. But the headache’s the last thing on his mind. He’s all focused on you, looking like a porn star in front of him, all ditzy and happy.

“Up,” he pants, grabbing onto you. He pulls you onto his lap and he doesn’t care if you have his cum on your face. He’s already hardening again, could really use another scalp massage while his cock finds its way inside of your hole. “One more, can you do that for me? So goddamn hot I gotta go again.”

“Whore,” you snark weakly, hands finding his head, letting him sit you down on his cock.

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 #this isn’t very good but in my defense 1. sleepy baby 2. bad night

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: You awake in a top secret facility where you learn of Leon's true nature

Word Count: 5.9k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, monster f*cking, body horror, lactation kink, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

“Where’s Leon?”

“In this building.”

“Where am I?”

“At the BSAA North America headquarters in Washington D.C..”

“BSAA?”

“The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance.”

“Did Leon do something wrong?”

The man called Clive lets out a chuckle, leaning back in his chair, “that’s a loaded question.”

You feel a lump form in the back of your throat. You swallow it back, remaining silent in hopes that Clive will continue.

“Nine years ago, the president’s daughter was kidnapped by a cult in Spain called Los Illuminados. D.S.O. Agent Leon S. Kennedy was sent to rescue her. Both of them had become infected with a bioweapon-- a parasite the cult called Las Plagas. Leon had successfully removed the parasite from the president’s daughter, however…”

Clive pauses and you can feel your heart start to race at the implication, but still you press, “however, what?”

Clive clears his throat, “by the time the U.S. government realized Leon was still infected, he was long gone, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. He’s been on the run for nine years.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The hikers? That man at the festival? Your father? They’re all his victims,” Clive states.

“You’re lying!” you shout, standing up from the chair and slamming your hands onto the table.

“The plaga feeds on blood in order to survive; it seems to have an affinity to human blood, too.”

“You do realize this sounds absolutely insane, you’re making it sound like Leon’s a vampire or something.”

Clive chuckles again, “that honestly wouldn’t be that far from the truth,” you watch his eyes glance to your swollen belly, “I take it that’s Leon’s baby you're pregnant with?”

“Yes,” you reply curtly before sitting back in the chair, crossing your arms, “it is.”

“Shit…”

“What?”

Clive takes a deep breath before continuing, “I hate to tell you this, but your baby isn’t entirely human.”

Your eyes widen, “excuse me?! Now you’re fucking with me, this is insane!”

“Don’t you find it odd that Leon hasn’t taken you to a single prenatal appointment? Odd that your pregnancy seems to be progressing awfully fast?”

You stand back up again, angrily shaking your finger at Clive, “you are full of shit!”

“Deny it all you want, it’s the truth. Unfortunately you’re too far along in your pregnancy to safely abort, we’ll have to wait until you give birth so we can euthanize it; we’ll make sure it’s done humanely.”

“No one is coming near my baby! You’re just trying to scare me!”

You watch Clive reach into his jacket, pulling out a photo and placing it on the table in front of you. What you see immediately makes you pause and stare. It’s a poorly lit room, a person is tied to the support beam, covered in blood and what you assume is bite marks on their neck.

“This was taken in Leon’s basement after we apprehended him. This is why he kept the basement locked.”

You can’t take your eyes off the photo, especially after you realize you recognize the clothes; it’s a woman that had gone missing after coming out of a work Christmas party in Plymouth; you had seen a photo of her at the party on the news. You feel chills go up your spine.

"Unfortunately she died from blood loss when we were transporting her to our clinic," Clive states.

You swallow hard before making eye contact with Clive, “what the hell is going on…?” 

“I think it will be easier to show you, come with me,” Clive replies, standing up from his chair and motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for a moment before you decide to follow, going back out into the hallway. The two of you eventually make your way to a single elevator, watching Clive swipe a card and then call the elevator. It beeps before the doors slide open and the two of you step inside. 

“How long have you been watching us?” you ask, figuring out that based on what Clive had said to you about Leon not taking you for prenatal check-ups, that someone was watching you and Leon’s every move.

“Shortly after Halloween, a police officer in Oakvale had reached out to the FBI to ask about Leon; in turn the FBI reached out to us. We had to ensure that it was definitely him before making our move.”

You nod, shifting uncomfortably on your feet and unconsciously rubbing your belly. After a couple minutes, the elevator door opens and Clive steps out, you follow him closely. Several men in lab coats turn and greet Clive.

“Director O’Brien! For what do we owe the pleasure?” one of the scientists asks before looking at you, “is this…?”

“Yes she is,” Clive replies, “has he been fed yet?”

The scientist looks back at Clive, shaking his head, “not yet, we were just about to get ready to.”

“Excellent, bring us to the observation room.”

“Of course, director.”

The scientist leads the way bringing you down another hallway that’s barricaded with several large steel doors. At the end, he turns to a door on the left, swiping a keycard and inputting a passcode, causing the door to slide open. You can’t help but feel like you somehow woke up in a science fiction movie. You pinch yourself again to make sure you’re definitely not dreaming.

Once in the room, the scientist pulls up the blinds on a large window and you see Leon, still in just his sweatpants, sitting on a basic metal bed hunched over, staring at the floor. Your heart seemingly skips as you rush up to the window, putting your hands on the glass.

“Leon…” you say softly.

From what you can see, there is nothing out of the ordinary about Leon and you start to reckon that they have the wrong man. Leon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Looking around the room, you notice there is a purple hue. You look up at the room’s ceiling and see that between each fluorescent light is a purple one; the same lights that you saw when you and Leon had gotten ambushed at home.

“What are the purple lights?” you ask, turning to Clive as you remove your hands from the glass.

“High powered ultraviolet lights. The plaga can’t stand sunlight. That’s why he only hunts at night.”

Suddenly, a walkie talkie that is sticking out of Clive’s outer jacket pockets goes off, “We’re ready to commence feeding if you are, director.”

Clive grabs the walkie talkie out of his jacket and replies, “proceed.”

On the left side of the room, a door slides open and a blindfolded man is pushed in and the door closes. The man practically falls onto his face. The man sits up on his knees and you see that his hands are bound behind his back.

“He’s a death row inmate,” Clive says, answering a question you hadn’t even asked, “we have a partnership with the penitentiary and they supply us with inmates that are going to be executed.”

Your attention is drawn back into Leon’s room when the UV lights are switched off and the fluorescent lights dim. Your eyes are drawn to Leon when he suddenly lifts his head, his eyes locked on the man that’s in the midst of a panic attack in the middle of the room. Before your eyes, you watch dark, inky veins start to spread over Leon’s exposed skin. Leon suddenly stands up, walking towards the man like a predator stalking its prey. Movement coming from behind Leon makes your breath hitch; a long, jet black tail comes out  of Leon’s back; the closest thing you can compare it to is a scorpion’s tail.

That isn’t all, four more appendages come out of his back, these looking like claws. You want to close your eyes, you want to run, but you can’t; your eyes remain locked on Leon. In a split second, Leon pounces onto the man, the man’s cries for help going unanswered as you watch Leon’s mouth latch itself onto his neck. The four claws latch onto the man as his tail whips itself back and forth as Leon feasts upon him. You suddenly feel your baby shift in your belly.

Leon suddenly stops, unlatching himself from his meal and looking directly at you. 

“Can he see us?” you ask, your voice shaking.

“No, it’s a two way mirror,” Clive replies, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

Leon stands up walking right up to the window, his eyes locked onto you. To your horror, you see his eyes are red, seemingly glowing in the dim light. His blood stained mouth hangs agape and you can see that all four of his incisors are elongated and sharp. Leon puts his hands onto the glass, his gaze still locked onto you.

“Angel?” he says, his eyes widening, “is that you?”

His tail moves back and forth as he stares at you and that’s when your baby inside you starts moving erratically, causing you to wince in pain as you grab your belly. 

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” Leon continues, his hands running down the glass, leaving trails of blood behind, “this is not how I wanted to show you my gift.”

“Gift?” you whisper, taking a couple of steps back from the window.

“He’s referring to the plaga.” Clive replies.

“Our little girl has the gift, too,” Leon continues, his right hand pets the glass as you watch his gaze shift to your belly, made even more unsettling knowing that he can’t see you, “isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Your baby shifts again, feeling your baby’s foot go up your rib cage, causing you to yelp as you once again grab your swollen belly. 

There’s no way your baby is reacting to him right? Right?

You watch as Leon’s crimson eyes narrow, one of his fists balling up and punching the glass, causing it to crack. You scream, stumbling backwards and falling to the floor as Leon throws another punch at the glass, cracking it further. Clive rushes over, picking you up off the floor as he grabs his walkie talkie.

“Turn those damn UV lights back on! NOW!” he shouts into the walkie talkie as he pulls you out of the observation room.

You turn and look back as the UV lights are powered back on, Leon letting out the most inhuman scream you’ve ever heard in your life and in an instant, you watch his grotesque appendages retreat back into his body as he stumbles away from the glass, clutching his head with his hands.

As you and Clive retreat back to the elevator, Leon’s cries of your name fill the halls.

You have no idea how much time has passed since the incident with Leon. Clive had you relocated to a more comfortable room at the facility; it has furniture, a small refrigerator and a window to look outside. You’re sitting in a rocking chair next to the window, rubbing your pregnant belly unconsciously as you watch a gentle snowfall outside. Over and over, your brain plays out the last few months since you returned home from dropping out of college.

Every little thing you had noticed that was odd suddenly made sense: eating the rarest meat imaginable, that one time you thought he had sharp teeth when he bit into his burger, him suddenly going into the basement, him getting up in the middle of the night to ‘check traps,’ the day they found what was left of your father, that smile he had on his face was burned into the back of your mind. Your eyes unconsciously widen at another revelation; the red eyes you saw in your window that night, they were Leon’s.

“It was him… he was the B.O.W. the whole time…” you whisper to yourself, a single tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sound of the door opening startles you and you watch Clive walk in, giving you a gentle smile and wave as he steps into the room.

“I just spoke with your mother,” Clive says, taking a seat on your bed across from where you sit, “I let her know you were experiencing complications in your pregnancy and that you had to be taken to a specialist in D.C., so she at least knows where you are. I didn’t mention Leon to her.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly, letting out a sigh as you return your attention back out the window.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

“Empty? Lost? I’m not sure what to feel… I feel like the last few months have been a cruel lie,” you reply honestly, wiping more tears that run down your face away with the back of your hand.

“I know and I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard this has been for you.”

“Is it true that you can’t cure him?” you ask, looking back over at Clive.

Clive nods, “unfortunately. The parasite has completely taken over his body, if we try to remove it, he will die.”

“How… how is he?” you ask, not really sure you actually want the answer.

“He’s refusing to feed. We’ll have to execute him sooner than we intended,” Clive replies, leaning forward, resting his forearms onto his legs.

“Execute?!”

Clive nods, “yes, he’s too dangerous to keep alive. Our hope was to study the plaga inside of him before putting him out of his misery, but he’s making that difficult.”

“Is there any chance I could say goodbye to him before he’s executed?”

Clive stares at you puzzled for a moment before replying, “I believe I can have that arranged.”

“Good,” you say with a soft sigh of relief.

Despite everything, you still love him. You still love the baby growing inside of you. The thought that both of these things that you love so dearly are going to get taken from you absolutely kills you.

“I’ll make sure to come get you when that time comes,” Clive says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the door, “don’t hesitate to give us a holler if you need anything.”

You believe another few days passes, you awake one morning to the sound of wind howling; a blizzard seems to have come in. Just after you get yourself dressed and cleaned up, Clive once again comes into your room.

“It’s happening tonight,” Clive says, his look solemn.

You acknowledge him with a nod before following him out of your room and back to the elevator that brings you to the underground research facility. This time, instead of bringing you to the observation room, Clive brings you to the door leading to Leon’s containment chamber.

“Remember,” Clive begins, causing you to draw your attention to him, “we’ll be watching. We won’t let him hurt you.”

You nod as the door to his containment chamber slides open. You step inside the small chamber inside the door, it sprays some kind of mist on you which you suspect is some kind of sanitizer. After that, the final door opens and you see Leon, laying on his back staring at the ceiling. You step inside, listening as the door slides shut and locks, making your heart jump in nervousness. At first, Leon doesn’t acknowledge you, instead he continues to stare at the ceiling.

“Leon?” you finally speak up, your voice soft.

Leon lifts his head, staring at you for a moment before he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, practically running to you. He places his hands on your shoulders, looking at you in disbelief.

“Angel! You’re ok, I’ve been so worried!” he exclaims before planting a kiss onto your forehead.

Now you’re able to get a good look at him. His skin is extremely pale and you can see the faint, inky black veins all over his exposed skin. It reminds you of the time you had gone to the festival, before he had killed that man behind the fairground. Now you know why Leon had looked so terrible that day.

“I’ve been worried about you, too,” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“What’s wrong Angel? It’s just me,” Leon coos, his hand gently grasping your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

His gaze shifts down to your belly, a smile slowly overtaking his lips as he stares down in awe; once again feeling your baby move inside you.

“My God… you’ve gotten so big! Our little girl is growing like a weed!” he says, the excitement evident in his voice as he places a hand on your belly, rubbing it slowly.

A hint of sadness hits you, knowing that as soon as your baby is born, it’s going to be humanely euthanized, but you don’t want to do anything that could cause Leon to lash out, so you keep that knowledge to yourself. 

“How do you know it’s a girl?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“She told me,” Leon explains, his gaze shifting back to you, “because of our gift, we are constantly connected.”

You feel your pulse pick up, feeling your baby continue to writhe inside you as Leon continues to rub your belly.

“I’m going to give you the gift, as well. We’ll be together in both body and mind. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Before you can even process what he just said to you, you notice there’s a sudden change in the lighting; your eyes dart around to see what changed when you notice the subtle purple hue is gone. The UV lights have been turned off. You want to panic, but you take deep breaths to try to keep yourself calm. You reckon it must be a mistake, they’ll turn the UV lights back on in any second. However, more agonizing seconds go by and you realize that they are not coming back on.

Leon slowly looks up, a smirk spreading across his lips when he realizes the UV lights are off, “well… that's convenient.”

He closes his eyes, rolling his neck and shoulders as you watch in horror as the dark veins on his skin get even darker. When he opens his eyes again, you are once again met with the crimson eyes that have haunted your subconscious since the day you saw Leon from the observation room. But now that he’s right in front of you, everything inside you is telling you to get away. You take a couple steps back away from him, his smirk immediately turning into a frown.

“No, no, no! It’s ok, I won’t hurt you, Angel,” he pleads, reaching out to you and grasping your upper arms to stop you from moving away, “I just want to take care of you.”

You watch as his tail snakes out from behind him, moving between the two of you. The end of it goes under your shirt and you watch as the blade-like end of his tail moves upwards, slicing through your shirt. Once your shirt is completely sliced open, his fingers gingerly push the remains of the shirt off you, exposing your swollen breasts to him. He brings one hand up, brushing one of your sensitive nipples under his thumb, causing a small white bead of liquid to come out before running down your breast, pooling onto your pregnant belly.

“Aw look, you’re making milk. Our little girl will need blood, not milk. No matter, I’ll make sure it won’t go to waste,” Leon says before leaning down, wrapping his mouth around the leaking nipple and sucking hard.

“L-Leon!” you cry out, trying to push him away.

You look over at the mirror, knowing that there are people watching. Does Leon know there are people watching? You want to cry out for help, to get someone to come get you out, but you can’t; you don’t want to risk invoking Leon’s fury. After what seems like an eternity, Leon unlatches himself from your breast, his crimson eyes staring down at you lustfully. A grin slowly forms on his face, showing off his long, sharp canine teeth.

He grasps you gently, coaxing you over to his bed where he spins you around, forcing you to bend over onto the bed with your knees on the floor. You rack your brain over what on Earth he’s doing when you feel a very sudden sharp pain in your shoulder, causing you to scream. You then hear a low moan; Leon’s mouth is latched onto your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep into your flesh as blood starts to pour out from the wound. 

He releases his mouth from you briefly, his breaths heavy as he grips onto your waist, his hands then reaching around to undo your belt and pants, “you taste just as divine as I remember, Angel,” he purrs into your ear.

You start to question mentally what he’s talking about until you recall back to the first night you stayed at Leon’s house when the two of you had sex for the first time. He wasn’t just eating you out that night. He was feeding off you. This newest revelation causes a sudden wave of nausea to come over you, causing you to gag. You quickly cover your mouth with one hand while the other grips the sheets on his bed, tears burning the corners of your eyes, threatening to pour out. 

He bites back down into your shoulder as his hands make quick work pulling down your pants and underwear, his fingers rubbing your slit slowly, gathering up the slick of your body’s arousal on his fingertips. While still feeding off you, he pulls down his sweatpants and you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Your eyes widen when you watch two of the claw-like appendages stab down onto the bed in front of you while the other two wrap around your waist, trapping you against him; you feel one of his hands rest on your hip while the other grips your hair, pulling your head back. It takes everything in you not to scream.

With a quick thrust of his hips, he buries his cock inside you, unlatching his mouth from your shoulder with a loud moan as his grip on your hair tightens. You cry out at the feeling of him practically splitting you in half; he feels so much larger than you remember. There’s also another sensation inside you, one you don’t recognize at all. It’s almost hard for your mind to even describe; like a thousand fingers are stroking your inner walls and your cervix and with each quick thrust of Leon’s hips, it feels amazing. You can’t help but let out a loud moan as Leon pistons himself into you, hurtling you towards your release. 

“That’s it Angel, you’re doing so well for me. My perfect mate,” he purrs as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, the hand on your hip gripping so tight that it’ll surely leave bruises, his other hand running down your neck before resting onto your other shoulder, “now, be a good girl and take my gift.”

Against your better judgment, you turn your head to look at him. Leon is opening his mouth and you watch as four mandibles come out from the depths of his mouth and you can hear something squealing from inside his throat. No longer able to put on a brave face, you start to scream, thrashing your body in a desperate attempt to get away from him. The strange sensation you noted inside you suddenly starts to sting as you try to get yourself off him and you feel the claws wrapped around your waist start to cut into your skin as they grip you tighter. 

The door to Leon’s room suddenly opens and Clive along with two men with tactical gear and guns swarm in. Clive holds up a large UV flashlight, shining it directly at Leon’s head. Leon roars, the mandibles going back inside his mouth as he falls backwards, freeing you from his grasp. You quickly pull your underwear and pants back up before running over to Clive, using your arms to cover your exposed breasts. Clive positions you behind him as the two men move to either side of Leon, their guns drawn and pointed at him. One of the scientists then rushes inside the room, Clive turns his head to address him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Clive shouts at the scientist right before the UV lights turn back on.

You wince when you hear the inhuman cry come from Leon as he scrambles to crouch himself into the corner of the room, gripping his head and trembling.

“We just wanted to see what he would do, that’s all!” the scientist says, pleading with Clive.

“She nearly got infected! Was that part of your plan?!” Clive shouts, walking up to the scientist, getting in his face.

“Well, no…”

“The lead researcher will be hearing about this, now get out of our way, I need to take her back to her room,” Clive continues, practically shoving the scientist out of the way as he gently grasps your upper arm to lead you out of Leon’s containment chamber.

As you walk out, you turn and look at Leon, who’s still crouched in the corner; his eyes are locked onto you, a smirk spread across his lips.

Leon stays seated in the corner of his containment chamber for the majority of the day, only moving to relieve himself in the toilet inside his containment chamber. Scientists have been in and out of his containment chamber as well, almost as if they’re preparing for something, though he didn’t have the slightest clue of what that could be until the lead researcher comes in with his young assistant, who looks vaguely familiar to Leon. 

The lead researcher takes Leon’s vitals and a blood sample, staying completely still through it all, watching the assistant take a seat on Leon’s bed, taking notes with a clipboard and pen.

“Dr. Jacobs, a question if I may?” the assistant suddenly asks.

“Go ahead, Chambers.”

Chambers. Rebecca Chambers. That’s why I recognize her…

Rebecca was a former member of S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team prior to the Raccoon City outbreak incident on September 30, 1971; Leon’s first day as a police officer. A part of him wishes he had died that day.

“How did he manage to infect the fetus? I thought you said it was transmitted via the bloodstream, hence why he bit her.” she asks, setting the clipboard and pen down onto the bed next to her.

Dr. Jacobs swallows hard as he turns to address her, “we believe there are plaga larvae in his semen, which fused with the embryo upon fertilization even though we found no larvae in the semen samples we were able to get. Somehow… the plaga inside him can control when a larva is released… absolutely extraordinary, a real shame we’re executing him tonight.”

Leon subtly raises an eyebrow.

“What about the baby?” Rebecca presses.

“The baby will be humanely euthanized upon birth, the BSAA wants to put the plagas parasite to bed for good even though the child could provide valuable data. I tried to fight it but O’Brien wouldn’t budge.”

What?

Leon remains calm on the outside, but on the inside, he is panicking. He has to protect his offspring at all cost, but how? That answer comes on a silver platter when he watches Rebecca stand up from the bed, grabbing the clipboard but leaving the pen behind on his bed. He waits a couple minutes to see if they realize she had left the pen in here. When he’s confident they’re not coming back in, he stands up, walking over to the bed and collapsing onto it, clutching the pen in his hand as he lays down. He turns, his back facing the camera that’s on the opposite wall pointed towards the bed. 

During his stint in the military after surviving the Raccoon City outbreak, Leon picked up a few tricks, one being how to make lockpicks out of just about anything. He meticulously takes the mechanical pen apart, using the metal parts to make a crude lock pick, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand.

Later that evening, the door to his containment chamber opens and Dr. Jacobs comes in along with another man in tactical gear with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and a pistol strapped to his leg. Dr. Jacobs is carrying a metal folding chair, which he hands to the guard for him to set down onto the floor after opening.

“Sit,” the guard orders Leon, pointing at the chair.

“Yeah, yeah…” Leon replies, standing up from his bed and sitting in the chair.

“Hands behind your back. Now,” the guard barks.

Leon does as he’s ordered, putting his hands behind his back around the back of the chair. The guard walks behind him, handcuffing his wrists together. Unbeknownst to the guard, Leon has his makeshift lock pick wedged between two of his fingers, completely concealing it. The guard walks back around, standing in front of Leon as Dr. Jacobs prepares a syringe of bright green liquid. Slipping the lock pick out, he begins to pick the lock on his cuffs.

“It pains me to do this Leon, it really does,” says Dr. Jacobs as he approaches, the guard moving to the side of Leon to let him through, “you were a brilliant agent. I admit this will not be pleasant, but you won’t suffer for long, I promise.”

Leon manages to free himself just as Dr. Jacobs kneels down to inject him with the deadly serum in the syringe. In the blink of an eye, Leon snatches the syringe from Dr. Jacobs, stabbing it into his neck and pushing the syringe. Dr. Jacobs’ expression contorts as he collapses onto the floor, his body going into a seizure in what Leon imagines is the painful thralls of death.

The guard curses as Leon stands up from his chair, pointing his AK-47 at him to shoot. However, Leon’s too quick, he side steps and grabs the AK-47, using the strap slung around the guard’s body to strangle the man, all the while, the gun is still firing, shooting out all the lights in the ceiling, including the UV lights. Inky black veins quickly envelope Leon’s body and his eyes shift into the deep crimson as Leon bites into the guard’s exposed neck, drinking as much blood as he can in a short period of time.

He then kneels down to Dr. Jacobs’ lifeless body, searching his pockets to find a fob. With this fob in hand, the door to the containment chamber opens, allowing Leon to make his escape. He can sense his offspring is several floors above where he is, so he quickly finds the elevator, the fob allowing him access to it. 

When the elevator doors open, several guards are waiting for him, guns drawn. In an instant, Leon’s tail and back appendages emerge and he practically leaps out of the elevator pinning one of the guards down and ripping out his throat while his tail whips around, decapitating and fatally stabbing the other guards. Just when Leon thinks he’s in the clear, he hears more footsteps coming towards him. He looks up, blood dripping from his mouth and chin and finds Director O’Brien with about 10 more guards behind him.

“I should have known you wouldn’t go quietly, Leon,” Director O’Brien says, crossing his arms.

“Where is my mate?” Leon growls, standing up to face them, using his back claws and tail to make himself look bigger.

“In a place you won’t get to, Leon. You’re not leaving this hallway alive,” Director O’Brien replies.

“We’ll see about that.”

Leon begins to step forward, his legs and arms mutating, turning black like his claws and tail. His fingers become more claw like and his legs contort to become more insect-like; his feet also transform into three toed claws. His jaw splits open to reveal rows of sharp elongated teeth, his four incisors still longer than the rest. His four mandibles also come out of his mouth and he lets out an inhuman roar as he charges towards Director O’Brien and the guards. This is the furthest Leon’s ever let himself transform and he’s honestly eager to see what he can do.

The guards shoot at him, but the bullets do little to no damage to Leon as he rips through them like paper with his razor sharp claws, blood and guts spilling everywhere. In the chaos, Director O’Brien slips away, running down the hall. Leon sees this and quickly gives chase, what’s left of the guards strewn all over the white marble floor in his wake. Director O’Brien comes around the corner with his angel, his mate in tow, both of them stopping in their tracks upon seeing Leon.

Leon opens his mouth wide, letting out a loud hiss as he glares at Director O’Brien. Unfortunately in his current state, he’s unable to speak. His crimson stare shifts over to his angel, who to his dismay, is visibly frightened.

Angel, don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. I could never hurt you…

He curses internally about not being able to give her his gift; if he had been successful, he would be able to communicate with her easily. His gaze then shifts to her swollen belly, sensing his offspring is strong and healthy inside her. He watches as she grips her belly, flinching.

“Back off, Leon!” Director O’Brien shouts, pulling out a small flashlight from inside his dark green coat and turning it on, pointing its purple beam directly into Leon’s face. 

Leon, turns his face away, growling as he feels the light sting his mutated parts. His tail whips forward, slicing off the hand holding the UV flashlight before he turns back to Director O’Brien, stalking towards him and using one of his clawed hands to pick him up and pin him against the wall. Letting out a guttural growl, his mouth and mandibles open wide only stopping when he feels his mate’s hands on his arm.

“Leon, don’t kill him, please!” she cries, “don’t kill him and I’ll… I’ll go with you…”

His mutated mouth closes, turning to her to see her bloodshot eyes staring up at him, pleading with him. He lets out a soft purring sound, turning back to Director O’Brien and abruptly dropping him. He falls to the floor with a gasp, Leon’s attention back onto his mate as he grabs her by her wrist. She looks up at him, the fear evident in her eyes as she starts to panic, pulling against his grasp as she hyperventilates. 

Angel, don’t do this… it’ll be ok, I promise…!

She then faints; Leon’s quick reflexes catch her before she collapses onto the floor. He picks her up into his arms bridal style, stalking into one of the rooms that has a window. Using his tail, he smashes the window open, the blizzard raging outside now blowing snow into the room. Leon leaps out of the window, carrying his mate into the stormy winter night.

Part 8

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

[selfishdoll]

࣪ ִֶ　𝜗𝜚　‧ MANI’S GRIMM RETELLINGS !

ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤ through an era of frog princes & poisoned apples, witness the many stories starring reader and jjk men that take twists that range between innocent and quite deadly. each retelling is based off the grimm brother’s fairy tales (except greymist fair which is based off of francesca zappia) & will share elements.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. these fics are in celebration of 1k followers! thank you very much for the support & while it it a little overwhelming i’m extremely happy you all enjoy my works and much more. i’ve been wanting to do this for a while & decided now was the perfect time. with that being said if there is a character & fairy tale you’d like to request— please let me know! i would love to write for you.

WARNINGS BEFORE ENTERING THE FAIRY TAIL(s). while i am not one that typically writes dark content, i believe only one will have it (it’ll be obvious who). & when i say dark content i do not mean incest or stepest or rape. i mean killing, gaslighting, etc. such warnings will be properly tagged both here and on the actual fic. thank you. and these fics will have smut so please be wary.

✦ᣞ ⊹ ݁ GREYMIST FAIR ✶ ˖ ࣪

STARRING: RYOMEN SUKUNA

WARNING(S): strangers to lover(s) | reader is quite fearless & a little stupid | true form sukuna | double penetration | stomach riding | oral sex (f. recieving) | sukuna is amused by reader fr fr | rough sex | manhandling | minimal amounts of praise & degradation | overstimulation | spanking | cum denial | dacryphilia | etc

greymist fair was a simple village, known for the dangerous woods seated at the edge of the town. no one dared to enter in fear of what resided in them. yet the ever-curious and humble tailor known as [name] didn’t know the meaning of fear. she always teetered on the line of the forest, struggling not to enter. the older villagers would dissuade her, even shouting at her at times when she got far too close.

she was so tempted.. so.. desperate to see what was inside the forest. something was holding her back.

well that something dissipated the moment a body was found infront of the tree-line, causing the ever so curious, ever so nosy [name] to enter.

✦ᣞ ⊹ ݁ BLUEBEARD ✶ ˖ ࣪

STARRING: KENJAKU

WARNING(S): slightly dark themes | gaslighting | fear | horror | mentions of death & murder | porn with plot | kenjaku is a sweet husband.. on the surface | he’s possessive | praise | rough sex | manhandling | major & minor character death | etc.

being married off to the widowed kenjaku was supposed to be simple. he was a caring man, sweet and attentive to your needs— always listening, always there for you. you believed all was perfect, you were settled for life; surely.

things, however, take a dark turn when you noticed a foul odor from the basement within your lovely home. you ask kenjaku about it countlessly times yet he assures you it is nothing.

and well, your adoring, loving husband had no reason to lie— right?

✦ᣞ ⊹ ݁ ROBIN HOOD ✶ ˖ ࣪

STARRING: NANAMI KENTO

WARNING(S): enemies to enemies with benefits(?) | buzzed sex | rough sex | nanami taking his frustration out in reader and she is 100% okay with it | praise & degradation | pet names (minx, brat, etc) | hair-pulling | cervix fucking | dumbification | dacryphilia | semi-public sex | etc.

constantly chasing a person was exhausting, wasn’t it? being right on their heels only to fail to capture them for the millionth time. that’s how nanami kento felt when it came to you, his town’s own little robin hood. he knew your identity, your cause, everything and yet— he never succeeded in capturing you. the frustration was clear with each step he took, with each visit to the tavern nestled in the corner of the town.

today was like any other, nanami failing to stop the weekly heist you conducted. he was tired, annoyed, and ready to drown his concerns in alcohol.

until he sees you, in his favorite spot.

✦ᣞ ⊹ ݁ RAPUNZEL ✶ ˖ ࣪

STARRING: TAKUMA INO

WARNING(S): strangers to friends to lovers | unrealistic hair length | reader’s hair is kinky & in braids to make it easier for me | porn w/minimal amounts of plot | slight breeding kink | pet names [beautiful, princess, etc] | praise | pussy drunk! ino | oral sex (f. recieving) | mf rambles so much | etc.

a sheltered young woman by the name of [name] resided inside a tower, kept in a hidden place within the vast forest. for years she longed for a visit besides her mother that only ever returned to brush and braid the beautiful locks that protruded from her head. she would spend days at the window, singing pleasantly in hopes of something, someone to hear. & her prayers are answered, one day.

✦ᣞ ⊹ ݁ CINDERELLA ✶ ˖ ࣪

STARRING: GOJO SATORU

WARNING(S): familial abuse | reader is treated as a maid | discrimination | fat shaming (from stepmother & step siblings) | ooc gojo | love at first sight | gojo is a prince | magic & what not | porn with plot(?) | praise | reader is chubby & curvy | pet names (beautiful, princess, sweetheart, mine, etc) | pussy drunk! gojo | he loves eye contact & talking | slight whiney gojo | etc.

your life was hell the moment your father was buried. you went from a loving family to a grueling partnership; forced to work to the bone to appease your step-mother and step-sisters. you hated it, hated them, and hated the life you were destined for. you wished for a night away from it all, to be a normal girl for once. of course, you would never get such a thing.

you weren’t even invited to the ball.

however, all hope isn’t as lost as you think the moment a woman sprouting wings appears infront of you and declares she will make sure you make it to that ball.

MORE CHARACTERS TO BE ADDED

#mani writes ━━ ★ #black!reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #mechahrt #jjk x fem!reader #mdni #hajime kashimo #nanami kento #choso kamo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #takuma ino #kenjaku #sukuna #black writers #black readers #x black reader smut #x black!reader smut #black reader #grimm fairy tales #retellings

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

What type of yandere do you think jouno and tecchou are?

I can answer this!

Masterlist (Request are open)

Saigiku Jouno (Yandere Idea)

Jouno is a cold hearted yandere, I feel like he's a yandere in canon too.

You wouldn't expect him to be as dangerous as he actually is due to his facade. He shows himself as calm and composed, when that may be true to some degree, it's not 100%.

Would be kidnap you? Maybe, it depends. He's a hunting dog, the strongest one in his mind, he knows he can protect even when you're not tied to a bed in his house, but it's just a precaution.

Jouno is blunt, he will purposely be mean to you and be very honest about stuff he doesn't like about you. Talents, emotions, anything. Jouno is the kind of yandere to break you down into nothing purely for his own entertainment and for a power trip.

He's extremely possessive. He will literally whisper on your ear all the things he'll do to you, ranging from sexual to down right disturbing, all because you were talking to Techou for a bit too long. He doesn't get why you want to talk to that useless waste of space, and he's very open about that fact.

Punishments from him are brutal. Whenever you fuck up or you're caught doing something you weren't supposed do he'll look at you like this.

You're left shaking and crying, covering his your own blood, bruises, cuts, everything. He'll leave you gagged, tied and naked on the basement, him smiling at your cries. Jouno loves your pain. The race of your heartbeat, the sense of fear he feels, your screams and begs, it all gives him a rush. Jouno however doesn't get carried away too often, so he knows when to stop so you don't die. He'll leave you down there for days, and when he sees you again you backing yourself into a corner while he kneeling Infront of you with that fucking smile on his face, asking you if you were done with you little rebellion.

He degrades the shit out of you, it's even worse if your a hunting dog. He'll moan and groan about how weak, pathetic and untalented you are, and how he's surprised you hold any use to them. Does he mean this? Most likely, whole heartly. Him degrading you turns him on, along with your tears. Sometimes he wishes he could see your face, just so he can see your tears, he bets it'll be adorable.

Jouno got no time or room for your disobedience. He doesn't like broken darlings however, he'll get rid of you due to you not being entertaining anymore. He wants a pretty strong willed, slightly disobedient darling, just so he has the excuse to pretty much torture you.

Despite this however, he loves you, well, more like he's obsessed with you.

Oh yeah. Hiding isn't a thing with him. You can lock yourself in a room to just avoid him, but he'll just appear Infront of you.

The thing is too, he acts like nothing happened after he punishes you.

Day to day life with him is full of fear, you can't read him. You're scared you'll mess up, what if he pins you to the floor and slowly breaks every bone in your arm again. He traumatizes you to such a degree that you can't even escape, mainly due to him being a hunting dog, but also because he's conditioned you with so much fear that if you got the chance to beg someone for help, you wouldn't take it.

Tetchou Suehiro (Yandere Idea)

Techou is definitely one of the better yanderes out of all the yanderes in BSD.

He'll never put his hands on you, never. He doesn't like torture and he's not sadistic like Jouno. I feel like his punishments consist of being locked in your room with no food for a few days.

Techou would be pretty protective and he would do anything to make you happy. You want to go to mall sure? Sure, he'll buy you anything. Local cafe? Yes. Want to wear his clothes? Cute...

I feel like Techou would threaten you, but they're all empty. Techou wouldn't do anything to hurt you on purpose. If he gets mad and accidentally hits you, he's hugging you and crying for you to forgive him and that he didn't mean to.

Techou is pretty serious and he wants to have this relationship go well. He can go hours just staring at you.

I feel like you could have an actual good relationship with Techou if you ignore some of his red flags.

Techou would do anything for you. And he means it whole heartly.

A mad Techou however is a dangerous one.

I feel like he's way more on guard and lack some self control. So it you two were fighting he woke hit you and like pin you to the couch while staring at you with coldness and rage in his eyes before he realizes what's going on.

#yandere bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #jouno x reader #jouno x you #jouno x y/n #yandere jouno bsd #yandere jouno x reader #yandere jouno #tetchou x reader #yandere tetcho #bsd tetchou #Tetcho x reader

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#337

“Hey Tucker, we have to have a talk.  And that means, I do the talking and you do the nodding.  When I came to town last week, you and your wife welcomed me in to your home.  You knew that I was going to breed you that night, just like I used to when we shared our dorm together.  I knew you were needing me to cunt you, treating you like shit, and you got it.

“And you also knew that I was eventually going to fuck your wife, just like I fucked your girlfriends back when we were at Iowa State.  I always thought it was funny how quickly I would snatch them right under your nose.  It could have been being the athlete of the year, it could have my sparkling personality, it could have been my Mercedes, or it could have been my beercan dick.  Didn’t much care why they let me fuck them.  I think you just paraded those bitches in front of me so I would take pity on you and give you my dick.  Hey it worked.  You were so obsessed with my dick back then, just like you are now.  Oh you are obsessed. 

“The way you pounce on my hog when you get home from work before Krystal comes home, you submit with so much enthusiasm.  It’s funny I tell you that I’ve been fucking your wife, and you show no reaction.  It’s as if you don’t like being with women.  Your smirk tells me everything… fag. 

“Are you a fag?...  No, no, I’m not asking you to agree with what I call you.  Do you prefer to be with men or women or both?...  No answer?  That’s an answer in itself. 

“This morning when I told her about me piledriving you, she flew off the handle.  I told her about our time at the dorm with you submitting to every disgusting act I made you do.  I even showed her the video, the one I used to blackmail you with of you at that rest area licking the anonymous cum dripping from that glory hole.  I kept that video all these years.  I kept them all.

“I even took one the other day of you giving me a blumpkin and then licking my ass afterwards.  I’ll hold on to that one to use for a later time.

“She’s truly disgusted by you.  I can’t say I blame her.  I probably would be too if I wasn’t the one making you do those things.  She and I talked about it this morning, and we are making some changes around here.

“She no longer wants to share a bed with a fag like you; in fact, she wants to see as little of you as possible.  So I will be replacing you in your own bed.  She agreed to that on one condition, that I am tender to her and treat her like a woman should be treated, not that you would know anything about that.  The other part is that we agreed that I will still use you but only to satisfy my need to be aggressive, cruel, and brutal.  She gets the caresses, and you get the beatings.  She’s made love to, and you are raped.  She gets the glass of fine wine, while you drink from a puddle of my piss.

“That seems like a fair deal to me.  You and I are going to move your shit downstairs in the basement.  She and I don’t want you in the guest room.  In fact we’ve decided that the stairs behind me and the entire second floor is off limits to you.

“However, in a bit, you will watch us make love in your former bed.  I want that visual to with you for the rest of your life.  I insisted to her that it needs to happen; you must be made a true cuckold.  After that, you are to keep your interaction with her to a minimum.  You need to say something to her, you go through me.

“She gave me the rundown on the prenup she signed when you two were married.  Your dad was a total dick to her.  But he was always that way with everyone… except me.  He and I always hit it off together many years ago.  So she needs to be married to you for another year and a half and produce a kid before she gets what’s she’s entitled to.  It looks like I’m here for a while.  I will be knocking her up.  By the time anyone realizes the kid looks nothing like you, we will be long gone.

“So, now let’s talk about the fun part, me and you.  I am the man of this house now.  My way is the only way.  You are merely an object to use in my home.  If ever I feel that you are acting in a way to undermine that, those videos I made of you will go to your very conservative father. 

“First things first.  Strip cuck.  Your name will be Cuck going forward.  Tuck the Cuck.  I like that.  I said strip.  You are not allowed to wear clothes in my home.  You got that?  Let’s go down to the basement…. 

“…I’ve decided that your bed will be in that corner over there next to the bathroom.  We’ll take off the bathroom door; you are to have no privacy.  Should I need to take a shit, your mouth will be wrapped around my cock; so why bother with a door?

“I’m going to be ordering some gym equipment.  I grabbed your wallet from your pants.  Thanks for the credit cards.  I now own everything that was once yours… including that rock hard pecker of yours.

“That brings me to this; I have a present for you.  Here, open this box.  I bought that when I went into town yesterday.  As you can see, it’s a cock cage.  Yeah it’s a bit bulky, but it has a feature I want.  Here, put your balls into my hand. 

“These things are nearly useless.  They couldn’t even produce a kid.  Pathetic.  Now their chief purpose is to cause you pain with a very tight squeeze.  Shh shh.  Until I get this basement soundproofed, you will need to control your screams of pain. 

“See, now you lost your hard on, and the cage goes on like this.  You won’t get hard from now on.  Now what did I make you call it back in the dorm?...  You remembered!  That’s right, it’s a pee pee.  What a stupid thing to call it hunh?...  Well, I want you to start calling it that once again.  Real men have cocks and dicks.  Fag cucks like you have pee pees.  Ha!

“Notice how heavy the cage is.  That’s because of the battery.  There’s a tracker imbedded in there, so I know exactly where you are.  There’s a small little buzzer so that I can send you a signal to come to me.  And finally there’s this.

“…Well you dropped like a sack of shit.  Yup.  That’s the primary reason I got that cage.  Delivers one hell of a shock.  Doesn’t it?  Now that is only level one for about one second.  There are five levels.  Keep that in mind. 

“I have it set up so that you cannot leave the house without my permission to deactivate it.  Also, you go up to the second floor, it will shock the hell out of you.

“It comes with an app that allows me to track you, where you are, where you were, how often you get aroused, if you pulled your shaft out… tons of stuff.  It also tells me how much battery is left.  You will feel three short buzzes when it reaches 70% of the battery left.  It also does it at 60%, 50%, and ten percent increments below.  When it reaches 40% and below, the buzzes become shocks. 

“It will be your responsibility to keep it charged.  It takes about an hour for it to fully charge from 70%.  I already installed the charging station over here.  Follow me.  I mounted the charging cord so that you must stand in that spot in the corner facing in.  Not only will your time there reset the charge, but it will also reset your focus, as there’s nothing for you to do other then look at the walls while charging.

“We’ll set your office up over there.  You will be expecting to continue to work remotely.  If you need to jump on a conference call, you will be permitted to wear clothing, but you must have titty clamps under your shirt.  We’ll also mount a dildo to your chair and cut the ass seam out of any pants you wear so that you will have your cunt stretched every time you sit.

“Come with me.  It’s blumpkin time.  This is one of your daily duties.

“So this is the set up.  This is the hell you will be in for the next few years.  I will be spending most of my time with your wife.  She and I seem to be hitting it off.  But when I need to have some time to unwind my tension, I will be down here to beat the shit out of you, rape you, whatever.

“Cuck, what you have to realize is that since our dorm days, I haven’t stopped making cuckolds.  I find the right couple and I fuck the wife or girlfriend while the man serves me.  The closet fags with a lot to lose are always easy to find.  And sometimes that fag, like yourself, craves the control I demand.

“Wasn’t expecting my piss hunh?...  Cuck!  You are expected to drink every drop every time.  You will need some extra training for that.  Pull off, I don’t want you biting me as I do this….”

“…That cage is meant to give instant punishment.  And it delivers.  That is so fucking hot seeing you writhing on the floor groping your cage trying to get relief….  Since you are on your back, it’s toilet paper time. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t plan on bringing TP down here.  You can wash up using your hand or the douche hose I put in.  I don’t care how you clean yourself up.  But me, I expect the extra attention a tongue gives to my shit hole.  What’s lucky for you is that my diet and my meds tend to make my turds so that I rarely use TP.

“Get that tongue in there deep….  Don’t you dare fucking gag.  No matter the condition back there, you are never to gag.  Focus…  Aww fucking hell.

“…Get up.  I’m moving up the plans I had for you.  I’m going to tie you to the footboard of your former bed.  When Khrystal comes home from work, I will make love to her and make you a true cuckold.  After we have a nice dinner just the two of us, I will secure you in my truck, then take you three hours to a biker saloon.  I had planned on doing this tomorrow morning, but tonight is better.  I want you broken in, and I don’t have the patience to do so.  And besides, I need to spend some time with my new wife without having to worry about her cuck—kinda like our honeymoon.

“They know me, and I know their work.  One of men there is into modifications.  Yes, they are going to modify you.  Your hair below your nose will be gone.  I’m going to have the head of your pee pee pierced so that it can be locked in the cage, eliminating any possibility of you pulling it out.  And it will go across your head.  And it will be severe.  You will be tattooed on your back.  I will tell you what it is once it’s on.

“The reason why I’m taking you tonight is so that they can install you in the back as a urinal and toilet paper duty for any of the bikers there.  And it’s going to be a busy Friday night.

“For the first time, you look terrified.  Good!  That’s what I want.  I have been doing this for so long, I know what I’m doing.  Look at my dick.  I am rock hard for this.  Creating a brand-new cuckold always gets me leaking.”

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

Unsatisfied Evening

I kinda had a particular scene in my head when I wrote this and well it kinda sat on the back burner till I could imagine what could go with it. This was pretty fun to work on! Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Saturday night. Over at Alpha Rho Sigma house, they were up to their usual antics. Dubbed one of the horniest frats at the college their frat house was usually a den of wild unrestrained sex. While not a den of sexually transmitted diseases there was a problem of male pregnancies. The men would be the house’s “Seahorses”.

Essentially anyone and everyone in the Alpha Rho Sigma house would be allowed to fuck the house's Seahorse. It was the belief and philosophy that “they’re gonna get pregnant anyways so might as well just fuck,”

Through every photo since the house's founding fifty years ago, there was always a handful of their Seahorses front and space tear and already very pregnant. This year's batch had a few of their seahorses who had trouble conceiving. A few of them had a large crowd around them gangbanging them in their usual breeding pit, the basement. That however wasn’t true for Mitch.  After a few sessions, he got pregnant, making him the only pregnant seahorse this year. 

This was his first pregnancy, and his fluctuating hormones were leaving him very very horny tonight. Heavily pregnant Mitch just wanted one good hard dicking to take the edge off his pent-up lust. Even though he’d pop any day now, he was feeling a large amount of discomfort throughout the day. Like they always did during these housewife breeding sessions, they had locked the basement door. Mitch had to make do with the ones left upstairs in the house.

Like with Brent, who had Mitch bent over the couch. Brent wasn’t being aggressive enough. Mitch wanted it hard, he wanted to feel used again. Dripping cum, losing count of his orgasms. But Brent came too quickly and into a condom ruining the mood for Mitch. The discomfort didn't settle. It felt like a bit of a cramp around his entire waist and stomach.

“You’re turn bud,” Brent said.

Mitch looked behind him, spotting Brad. Someone Mitch knew was a good lay. He was always aggressive when they’d fuck before his pregnancy. Brad came over quickly, fully erect and eager to get his Derick wet. Mitch of course could tell this, and he wanted this 

Brad could feel his cock throbbing as he stared at Mitch presenting his ass to his short Dom. That round jock ass the bright and alluring pinkies of Mitch's puckered hole.  Brad's hands were shaking as he grabbed into his tall bottom’s waist. 

"Come on, " Mitch's alluring voice drew Brad in.

Brad lined his cock up with Mitch's puckered hole. Pressing the tip of his cock against that tight jock ass swallowing the tip of Brad's cock whole. Mitch's ass felt warm and tight fitting Brad like a glove. Brad's cock pulsed and flared as he slid balls deep into Mitch's round ass.

"Fuck," Mitch moaned arching his back more. "I..."

Brad moaned "Come on," 

Mitchell started "Let's empty those balls one more time for me."

Brad moaned "You're so fucking tight." 

"Let's hope it stays that way" Mitch moaned backing his hips on Dolon's hard cock. 

With one hand Mitch tried to hold his hanging baby belly in place. Trying to ignore the small discomforting pain. Brad groaned as bucking his hips. He wanted to fuck Mitch harder and faster. Brad could feel he was right on the edge. One good buck and Brad thrust as deep as he could, his balls slapping against the underside of Mitch's ass.

"Come on Daddy, you know I can take it," Mitch kept backing his hips to the rhythm of Brad's thrusts.

The rhythmic rocking swaying of his baby belly each bounce and thrust against Brad's cock. Mitch wanted more. Pushing his bass back onto Brad’s throbbing cock, he could feel Brad flaring up. Brad was going to blow at any moment.

"I'm going to cum, Mitch." Brad couldn't hold back anymore  "Donit Brad. Fill my  ass." Brad went aggressive and wild at the end. Mitch could feel Brad's cock erupt into his ass mid-thrust. Brad moaned as his balls tightened ejecting every last drop into his huge sub. Mitch hadn't felt Brad cum like that in months. The pleasure was so intense Brad was seeing stars in his ecstasy. Mitch threw back his hip one more time, making Brad groan as a few more good spurts left his cock.

Mitch felt Brad pull his half-flaccid cock out all the cum dripping out of Mitch's well fucked hole. Mitch's cock was throbbing. He was crying a good climax in his state. Brad fell to the floor, cock flaccid and dripping a small strand of cum left in him.

Mitch stood up from the couch. One hand holding his baby bump in place. All that bouncing around from the sex made the baby stir inside of him. He could feel Brad's load leading out and sliding down his thighs. This only added to his sexual frustration. Brad might be pretty good at fucking. So Mitch left Brad there and headed down the hall to his room.

Mitch walked through the hallway naked and dripping cum. The other brothers of his fraternity didn’t so much as bat an eye at this. Showing it was a regular occurrence even before his sudden gravid state.

Mitch was already pent up, and the consultant influx of hormones from his pregnancy wasn't helping. He stayed semi-hard the entire walk down the hall. There had to be someone in this house who could get him off.

Mitch came by Trevor and Corey, in a room watching porn. They were jerking buddies, always seen jerking off together or jerking the other off. If nothing else, maybe they'll be willing to jerk him off. Being pregnant had its disadvantages, like not being able to reach it.

They were in the room across from Mitch's dorm room. It was Corey who caught sight of a very horny and very pregnant Mitch. 

“Whoa hey there Mitch, got a minute?” Corey called out

Mitch caught sight of the two of them. Cocks out. It had been a while since he’d seen them like that Trevor was pretty big, while Corey had a bigger head. Mitch could feel his cock twitching. 

“What do you want guys?” Mitch asked

“Maybe we can have some fun?”Corey asked Mitch

“Yeah,” Trevor let out, “your belly is super hot,” Trevor commented

Mitch stood in the doorframe. “Think you two can handle me?”

The two grinned. Corey scooted over. He was patting the bed inviting Mitch in. 

Mitch went over and sat there at the edge of the bed. Trevor stood up rubbing his hand and cock against Mitch’s huge pregnant belly. Corey was jerking off feeling up Mitch’s swollen pecs. Though tender, Mitch always liked having his pecs and nipples played with. Neither could avoid looking at his huge belly. Mitch got a glacé of Trevor's huge cock while he furiously beat his meat.

Trevor was grunting as he jerked himself off his cock brushing up against Mitch's baby belly. Corey got to his feet, leaning over and jerking off while he quickly flicked his tongue over Mitch’s nipple. Mitch could feel his cock twitching heavily. Mitch was so pent up and he desperately needed a good dicking. the way they were going at it he wanted them to go ahead and do it “Oh yeah, fuck my pregnant ass,” he begged in a sensual whisper

Trevor groaned his cock pulses and flared. "Fuck!" He let out as he fired a fat load onto Mitch's belly.  

Mitch tried to keep a stoic face. Trying to hide his disappointment. “Fucking shit!” He raged in his mind

Trevor backed up and Corey came over ready to blow his load on Mitch's pregnant belly. “Fuck that was hot,” Trevor let out coming down from his orgasmic high.

Mitch felt it again the pain was a bit more intense and getting harder to ignore. Corey threw a towel on Mitch's belly, the shafting scent of cum was driving him insane.

“Thanks, I've been edging for hours,” Corey let out

 Mitch whipped away quickly, got up, and left. Ignoring those two. “Fucking hell!” He whined low and angrily leaving their room. 

He’d been through a few guys already. And not a single one of them got him off. There weren't any sex toys in the house. Mitch was getting frustrated. Mitch was ready to give up, he stormed into his room. “God fucking dammit,” groaning and mumbling about the disappointing sex

“There you are,” a voice rang out

Mitch looked, seeing it was Joe. A friend from his pre-pregnancy gym days. “Not now Joe,” Mitch said angrily

“What can I stop by and see my buddy?” Joe asked

“I'm not in the mood,” Mitch relented

“I'm just here to talk bud, I haven't seen you in a while,”

Mitch was standing there, and the pain came again. Mitch just closed his eyes tensed his lips and clenched his fist.

Joe's attitude changed quickly. “What's wrong?”

“It's nothing! God I'm not fragile I'm just fucking knocked up!”

“No one's saying you’re fragile but you're obviously in some kind of pain,”

Mitch stomped his foot down, shouting at Joe, “I AM NOT IN PAIN!!”

Suddenly, splat. He felt it fall out of his ass suddenly and quickly. The pressure waned and the moments after felt like hours. Everything moved in slow motion. Joe was quick to get to his phone.

Mitch looked down as best he could at the floor where his feet might be. He could feel something wet and see a slight puddle. What was this? He wondered in that lengthened moment.

“His water broke!” He could hear Joe say into his phone

“My,” Mitch started to say

He was stopped and the pain came by quickly. It was strong and came far faster than before. He couldn't keep a straight face, his knees wanting to buckle. Joe went to catch him.

Mitch didn't hear a word anyone around him was saying. It all felt dragged out.

It was twenty minutes before an ambulance was there barging through the door. One of the EMTs asked Mitch something. “Huh?”

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“The, con- I dunno, maybe fifteen I dunno,” he felt it surge through him again

“Thirty minutes?” The EMT asked

Joe responded “Umm,”

“Rrrgggh,” Mitch let out

“Less than ten,” Joe replied

“These must've been happening all day,” the EMT commented

Mitch hadn't yet felt the baby drop into his birth canal. The EMT driving radioed in a possibly five to six centimeters dilation. Joe got left behind as Mitch was rushed to hospital. Whatever he needed to say to Mitch would need to wait.

Mitch did his best to endure the pain. Getting to the hospital he was informed of the bad news. He wasn't fully dilated, so they'd need to wait. 

“You're only five centimeters dilated. We need you at ten,” his doctor told him

“How long will that be?” Mitch asked concerned

“It could be hours, we'll just have to wait and see,”

“Hours?” Mitch let out a groan feeling another contraction

The doctor simply acknowledged he was in pain and instructed the nurses to offer him some pain relief as best they could. And try some activities to help him speed up the process along.

Mitch tried waddling around but feeling the contractions he wanted to fall to the floor. They were getting stronger and faster. A sure sign the baby would be here soon. They were still several minutes apart. 

He tried to rest by closing his eyes but it didn't last for very long as the contractions got closer and closer with the hours passing. It was already six hours since Mitch arrived at the hospital. It didn't look to be resolving anytime soon.

Hours later l, He called in the nurse complaining about pressure and an urge to push down in his lower stomach.

“That sounds like baby is ready,” she checked him real quick, “yup little ones starting to come out,”

It was almost over. He just had to push out the baby. He kept trying to remember those lessons from his Lamaze classes. His breathing would be important. His doctor was finally here and ready, it was time to begin.

“Remember to breathe,” the nurse told him demonstrating a quick in and out several times

“Alright everybody, let's deliver a baby,” the doctor told his three assistants

Mitch followed the instructions the doctor gave him. Mitch laid at an angle almost like a squat. His balls were nested in a partial jock to keep them out of the way of the doctor's view of his anus. 

“Alright.” His doctor began to instruct. Give us a nice big push on three, two, one, and push”

Mitch tried to push and he could feel the baby slowly coming out. He stopped to catch his breath. Once he felt good enough to continue he gave them the okay. Again the doctor called out, “Three, two, one, and push!”

Mitch tried to push again. It didn't feel like he was making any progress. Stopping to catch his breath he could hear the nurses say, “Good job, good job,”

Mitch felt like he was struggling. 

This continued for some time. Mitch would push until he caught his breath. After each push, he could feel the baby creeping further and further along. It didn't feel like the baby had gone far at all, but his doctor kept insisting he was going well. It had been over eight hours since his water broke. He couldn't feel his legs anymore. He was seeing stars and was exhausted. 

“You're doing very well young man,” his doctor said

The nurses encouraged him to keep going. With barely any strength left, he tried to push again, the baby was almost there a few more inches. They counted aloud, “Big push in three, two, one, and push!”

Mitch tried to push again. He could feel the baby going the weight pressing against everything as they inched out. Mutch could feel the baby's head getting closer, the weight already pressing on his prostate. Once he stopped pushing he felt the baby slide into place. The head was already crowning, when suddenly he felt the shift as the baby moved forward. The head was now completely out and the weight of his soon-to-be-born baby was crushing his prostate. 

Mitch yelped suddenly. The pressure made his eyes cross and his muscles tense. His limp cock suddenly became half-chub. As it started firing off jets of cum into the air, landing against part of his belly and thigh. The nurses were unphased, one whipped him off with a rag. The doctor so much as proclaimed “he popped, were in the home stretch,”

Mitch had learned this was a possibility. But it didn't make it any less embarrassing. The urge to push and the sudden relaxing euphoria of finally releasing a long pent-up orgasm was a conflicting sensation. His whole lower half was going numb as he continued to try and push.

Getting the shoulders free was the tough part. Mitch had run out of steam and each attempt made him feel weaker. Despite that he finally did manage to free the baby, giving his doctor enough to pull the baby out the rest of the way. Mitch could only tell the feeling of emptiness. His eyes were heavy, closing slowly as the numbness took over. 

He felt something small on him, his arm on his chest. Lazily he cradled one arm around it. Opening his eyes to see a full head of hair on his newborn's head. Mitch wrapped his other arm cradling the baby with a gentle tightness. With delivery over they were here. MItch’s little girl had arrived.

Recovering from delivery Mitch was visited by some of his fraternity brothers. A few of them were arguing over who the father was before they entered the room. Getting in and seeing Mitch lay there exhausted and a cleaned newborn sleeping near him tufts of red hair spilling out from under her pink cap they all knew. 

“BRONSON!” shouted loudly 

His frat brothers had to quickly remind him to be quiet. It was true. Bronson was the father, him being the only redhead in the frat easily narrowed that down. It was almost a day before Mitch could walk again. Getting to hold his fussy daughter. Thinking to himself that, “This is the only kid I'm having,” he thought to himself

Getting back to Alpha Rho Sigma house his brothers threw him a welcome home party. He was going to move next door to the ‘den’ as they called it. It was the house the guys would move into after having their baby. Quite and not as much sex. “We'll miss you Mitch,”

“I'm just going next door,” was his response

Many of his frat brothers would say the same thing during that little party they threw for him. Mitch would just respond the same way to each of them. 

“Wow you look cute with the kid,” Bronson had told him at the party “Definitely DILF material,”

Mitch hid his enjoyment of that compliment and thanked him stoically.

After the party, Mitch moved and a few other guys walked his personal things over to the den. A house literally next door to them. Not a fence being the only degree of separation. 

An enthusiastic pudgy young man welcomed Mitch there. A toddler strapped to his hip and obviously carrying another one. He showed him around real quick, the nursery, sitting room, kitchen, the bathroom - everything was child-proofed so he'd “need to get used to that.”

Mitch saw a room with a little heart on it, when he asked what it was his guide seemed to blush, “That's the hanky panky room. Us daddies need to get the edge off too,”

“Oh,” Mitch responded with nervousness

His guide explained how a few of them were on their second pregnancy already. Mitch didn't quite catch it, looking down at his sleeping daughter. Nervously his thoughts began to lean towards something naughty. Something hard and passionate. If he gave into it, he'd most certainly get pregnant again. Thankfully his lower body was far too tender still to even humor the idea.

#pregnant #pregnancy #pregnant story #mpreg #male pregnancy #birth #mpreg story #pregnant kink

[mango-dolphin]

playing a game with myself called "inventing a man and scaring myself with it"

Note: Not all of these predictions are meant to be taken literally, more figuratively/metaphorically/so on. You get it. Note 2: lighter the text, the more likely i think it is to be (in part or in full) true

ALSO. thank you @maxknightleyunofficial for the yuri box.

bingo transcribed below [with additional Author's notes!]:

Limbus Company Predictions

Row 1:

Sinner Number correlates to recruitment order. (Which, yes, would imply Dante joined LCB before Sinclair, Outis, and Gregor. No points)

Another character based on a poet (or philosopher) is introduced. HM: Ovid SWEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Meursault's source material is his backstory: he works for the LCB because they saved him from the death penalty

The E.G.O gear the Sinners are attuned to all corrode because the gear or their attunements are imperfect. As in: your LC nuggets got that good shit [because the LCB doesn't have Cogito & can't manufacture E.G.O gear: the Sinners have to "connect" to the Abnormality instead, however that works] / are better [than the LCB Sinners]

The psychosis warning is for multiple Cantos and/or side stories, but one of the Cantos needing that warning is Meursault's.

Row 2:

Sinclair goes tree mode. I will not explain any further.

Limbus Company wants to be the new L Corp, or at least be continually influencial to whoever takes the spot.

The Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; [it will be] a constant theme. Dante cannot "eat" (the apple), and thus is not "doomed to die" like the Sinners.** **The Sinners are named thus because they "partook" in the fruit: these moments, from blissful yet tormentous naivete to a sudden sinful upheaval, are highlighted in their Cantos. Gregor's was cutting the apple (crossing the boundary from child to war machine); Rodion's was killing the tax collector (her desire to be a hero completely upended by her actions leading to the deaths of all her neighbors); Sinclair's was following Kromer / letting her into his life (specifically allowing Kromer into his basement and witnessing The Horrors)... **This could imply LCB as the serpent in the garden, but more than anything, Dante is Eve. [Iori could also be the serpent she's got the range. swagever. It'd be funny.] HM: Or even worse, the opposite is true.

Sinners will get upgraded versions of their base E.G.Os; These versions have relation to the shadows cast in their E.G.O portrait.

Ishmael's white whale is a Library of Ruina character.

Row 3:

Faust's Faustian Bargain is classically straightforward: she "sold her soul" for knowledge. HM: The Devil in this exchange is the LCB.

Outis is in the middle of her years-long Odyssey as we speak. HM: It's why she's one of the last Sinners

Purgatorio & Paradiso

Outis, Don Quixote, and Hong Lu are using fake names

Dante (prior to the events of the game) has been on the Outskirts of the City, or even left City limits. HM: They're from outside the city

Row 4:

Gregor is an abnormality / abnormality-like; Hermann's "gift" to him is that. [Honestly he'd be one in the same way Tomerry is, but further than that? He's more than just a genetically modified soldier is what I'm trying to get at.]

Iori

^ HM: Lion, Panther, and Wolf were sent to Dante as a test. [Idk what kind of test it'd be. Trust me.]

At least one Sinner will Distort, and possibly multiple Likely Hong Lu, Ryoshu, Rodion, Heathcliff, Faust, or Meursault. Don seems obvious.* *Colors are likelihoods, not pairs. Though I don't see it likely that they all will distort UNLESS SOMETHING FUCKING HAPPENS *ADDITIONAL hard mode (so hard it's mode): Meursault Distorted before joining Limbus

the golden boughs are the remnants of Carmen's body or essence / the byproduct of the Seed of Light. [That's NERVOUS SYSTEM, baybee!]

Dante goes to Paradiso alone / with only Vergilius (I forgot how it went :( idr if Dante Dante's Inferno went up there alone)

Row 5:

Something bad happened to Gregor's sister :( HM: She's still alive. This is a bad thing. [Leaving my wording vague here on purpose.]

Marie (L'Étranger) is in the Blue Team (with Demian); Gretchen (Faust) is in the Red Team (with Hermann). Gretchen switches teams? [Honestly likely Faust hasn't encountered Gretchen either!]

There is yuri moments and maybe even yaoi moments (not Yuri) SINCLAIR. Yi Sang, Outis, Ishmael, Meursault, Outis again, Hong Lu, HM: Outis Wife Penelope

Angela.

Dante knew Carmen

#mango japery #limbus company #projmoon #bingo #oh god transcribing that took forever. WOE #i'll stand by my golden bough theory it feels way too obvious #carmen LOVES haunting the fucking narrative have you guys taken a look at the decals & graphics in the UI lately #she's in the ID cards she's in the title cards are you fucking kidding me #could've sworn she's in more but my man..... my guy.......... *breathes heavily

[marytvirgin]

Snow painted in red and orange - John Price x reader

Reader saves Price from a mission that went south.

English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes.

Enjoy!

Explosions and gunshots were the only things that could be easily heard. You knew things were out of control, but you didn't think it would all go south the way it did.

A team had been formed for this mission about a month ago. Captain Price was the man in command of the fifteen soldiers, below him was a lieutenant – Lieutenant Nantes – and then you, Sergeant Dip. The operation in Scotland had one objective: to invade and take down a possible weapon trafficking point that was being used by Russians.

The first few weeks were difficult, in addition to all the trouble with reconnaissance and exchanging information, there was also the relentless winter cold. The mission began with a hike of kilometres through snow to reach the perfect spot for the makeshift base.

Time has formed bonds between the soldiers there. Ridiculous jokes were made all day and snickers were always exchanged during perimeter patrols. Soldiers who had never seen each other were now field friends. Battle brothers. But one person in particular attracted you the most. The captain of the operation.

John Price.

The man is kind, and this unusual kindness in your line of work led him to tell you a little of his field stories. The man talks a lot about a boy named Gaz, who is kind as a child but tough to break, as well as saying that one day the boy will be a much better captain. Soap, a talkative and ridiculously funny Scotsman who is capable of demolishing a country in a few hours. And Ghost, silent, taciturn and a true soldier – “nothing can stop Ghost,” Price said with audible respect in his voice.

And you think that's cute, especially when the kindness is extended to you accompanied by a soft smile and extremely careful baby-blue eyes. Knowing the Captain made you respect him, but knowing John made you want to be one of the few people he holds close to his heart.

However, despite his soft eyes, you know he is a fierce man. Unstoppable. Would you dare call him untouchable. For those reasons, the despair that grips his throat at the moment almost suffocates you.

Almost.

You managed to break into the enemy basement the night before, kill whoever was there and plant bombs – without them knowing – and get out. What you didn't know, thanks to a terrible failure of your INTEL, was that a convoy of enemy soldiers was arriving that very night. You had less than half your soldiers and ammunition, yet you were still standing and fighting.

Well, part of you.

Your lieutenant went down with a bullet in the head a few hours ago. With the lieutenant dead, you and Price were the leaders of the remaining soldiers. The sun was almost down after more than 15 hours of fighting, the day had come and gone, and you were still fighting to survive after hours of trying to get a damn signal with the UK headquarters.

The real problem at hand and the reason for your despair? The Captain had been hit in the leg a few minutes earlier. The man you call unstoppable and untouchable was touched on your watch.

You were retreating when you were spotted and another wave of bullets fired at your team. Price got hit protecting your six while the rest of you took cover in the trees, managing to throw them off long enough to pull away from the fight.

The ceasefire is always brief, but long enough for you to count your survivors – five of you – and manage to call evacuation and move again. That had been nearly two hours ago. It was only a matter of time before your enemies found you again. And of course, your Captain dies on you.

“This is Sergeant Dip, headquarters listening?” You called on communications, hand pressing into the thigh of the man lying beside you. “Hey Price, eyes on me sir.” You shook the man lightly.

His blue eyes looked tired, exhausted even. It wasn't for less. All that fucking cold and lack of sun had turned all of you white as sheets of paper. Limited food, nights of sleep disturbed by patrol shifts and freezing cold fucked y'all over. You would leave there with a good few pounds less.

You are pretty sure that you will consider moving to the Sahara after this month

“This is Agent Laswell.”

Taking a deep breath and resting a gloved hand on the captain's cool cheek, you sent the other three soldiers to cover the perimeter.

“What is the status of the evac?”

“Evac is 10 minutes away.” You cursed, tightening the makeshift tourniquet around the captain's leg. Your fingers passed under the man's eyes, removing the snowflakes that fell there. “How's the situation?”

“Ten soldiers out. We are five now. The captain was shot in the leg, he's still conscious, but he's lost enough blood to be concerning. With this blood loss, he is at risk of hypothermia.”

“Can he still walk?” A deep voice carrying a British accent asked over communications.

“If by walking you mean being carried by me, yes, he can.” Price grunted and you smiled. "Sorry sir. You know I would literally carry you if I had to.”

It wasn't a lie. You were preparing yourself to do this.

"It would be an honour, you know. I can lift 120 kilos in the squat. You will be easy.”

“Muppet. You are a goddamn little Muppet.”

You managed to get him to talk. Excellent. Conscious enough.

"Almost there. Let Price know Squad 141 is coming.”

The message was enough to get you all moving again. Taking a deep breath and summoning the last of your strength – apologizing as well – you grabbed the man and slung him over your right shoulder. With a grunt, you got to your feet and started walking quickly.

“Did you hear that, sir? Your boys are coming to save our ass!” A small laugh rumbled in the man's chest.

The truth is: you really enjoyed the man's company. And with the captain the way he is, the operation was in your hands now. And no one will fall under your command.

The three soldiers followed your order to watch the rear, all eyes wide with adrenaline and the will to live.

You heard the helicopter before you saw it. A little ahead, outside the line of frozen trees, the aircraft landed perfectly.

“The rescue has arrived, sir!” Three men appeared. Two stayed at the door and one came running to you.

“Thank the fucking good God!”

You yelled, shifting the captain's weight onto the man who came straight at you. He looked to be quite young. Black skin, lean, muscular build, and a worried look. This must be Gaz.

“Everybody to the heli!” The big masked man shouted the order. “We got you covered!”

None of you hesitated to run for the protection of the heli.

"Sergeant?" One of your men said doubtfully when he saw you dropping to one knee and reloading your gun.

“That bunch of whores were lucky I was carrying the captain.” You said aiming at the tree line firing the first shot. One down. “But now…” You fired a few more shots, not missing a single one. “…you can fucking come.”

“Fucking hell, Dip!” You listened.

A tired smile crossed your face as you used the remnants of strength in your arms to hold your M4. You shot like you had an eagle's eye, seeing every target clearly even as the helicopter swayed. You didn't miss a shot, even if your weapon wasn't a sniper and the scope was a red dot.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” You listened, in a thick Scottish accent, as you picked up the detonator and held it up for all to see.

“Do you want the honors, Captain Price?” The man shook his head amidst the mess.

“Negative, sergeant. The operation is yours now. Finish it.”

“Fucking yeah”

The explosion painted the snow in red and orange.

“Sergeant Dip…” You heard Price's tired voice over the noise of the helicopter's.

"Yes sir?"

“You said when we got out of there you would tell me where the callsign Dip came from.”

“Ah, shit…” A small smile played on your lips. “Dip came from Dipshit."

…the silence was almost disturbing.

"I want to know why?"

Your smile widened.

“I was a recruit who stressed my superiors a lot. They said Dipshit looked suitable."

Price laughed.

#simon riley x reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #price x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader

[averagehorrorgirl]

I saved your fucking life

Paring: John “Soap” MacTavish x reader

Summary: After saving Johns life at the safehouse you unofficially join the 141. However you and John have been arguing ever since and it’s about to come to a head.

Warnings: Angst, mention of near death, wound treatment, arguing, Soap being sarcastic, fluff

A/N: This idea was formed from Days Gone when the scientist dude snaps lol also I don’t speak Spanish so I’m sorry if the words are incorrect I used google 

You love John, with your whole heart. No you haven’t told him yet but right in this moment you wanted to rip his damn head off cause he was pissing you off. Here the two of you were again arguing about being safe, near death, the same circle jerk every damn mission. You still remember when you thought your world was ending, when you thought he was going to die on the that damn table in the safe house. 

Ghost bursts through the safehouse doors Soap limp and pale on his side Price covering them from behind shortly followed by Gaz, Rudy, and Alejandro. Tears form in your eyes as Alejandro rushes to your side putting his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N, Y/N listen to me, we had no choice I’m so sorry.” You try and look past him seeing Ghost and Price put his body on the kitchen table ripping his gear off to access the various wounds on his body, his blood dripping onto the floor. 

“I-I ca-can’t” you barely stutter out the words as you look at Alejandro, he was your friend for years. You often giving treatment to his soldiers free of charge and hidden away to stay clear of anyone radar. 

“Yes you can. I’ve seen you do it hundreds of times on my men.” He takes your hands in his seeing you shake under his gaze. He knew of your feelings for the sassy Scotsmen he knew this was difficult for you. 

“We’re gonna loose him Alejandro we need that help now!” Price shouts towards the two of you.

You give on final look to Alejandro who gave you a nod of confidence as you quickly made your way over to John’s side checking the wounds, a deep gash upwards along his ribs, a bullet wound near his lower abdomen near his kidney. ‘Oh god please don’t turn septic’ you think to yourself finding the final wound on his thigh. ‘Fuck fuck focus Y/N tell the men what you need’ your hands begin to be covered in blood as you point over the counter behind Ghost “Ghost there’s a bag of fluids behind you pass me that, Price on your right there’s my trauma kit bring it here if you want him to live.” You quickly took control of the situation, the men gathering the supplies you requested and you put John on the fluids. Your surroundings around you became blurry, your hand become drenched in the mans blood as you quickly clean the wounds.

 Price was pacing back and forth in the hallway with Alejandro “you need to calm down hermano. Y/N is the best of the best.” Price momentarily stopped pacing to look at you frantically working over Soap, his eye wonder over to Ghost who watched wide eye in the corner of the kitchen. Price was certain he blamed himself for Soap’s wounds. Alejandro was worried, if Soap died while you were working on him you would never forgive yourself. Truthfully Alejandro worried about you, as your best friend he wanted nothing more then for you to be happy, and MacTavish made you happy that much was clear. 

You begin to work on the wound that looked like it nicked his kidney, ripping away his shirt you got a sight of the true extent of the wound - and it was not pretty. It was slowly bleeding, red and inflamed, his skin was like fire to the touch. “Shit, shit, shit, shit no!” You almost shout to yourself as you feel for his heartbeat, it was faint, his breathing was shallow and he was sweating. ‘Fucking sepsis of course’ you think to yourself. Now you were panicking, sepsis was very difficult to treat especially in his condition and the lack of any monitors and medical technology. “Alejandro, fuck, okay go into the basement and get me antibiotics or he will die. His kidney must’ve been nicked he has sepsis go go!” You wave him off tears clouding your eyes as you take a shaky breath wiping the tears away in your arm. You grip the counter to the point your knuckles turn white, you were second guessing every single ounce of medical knowledge you had. You couldn’t loose him, you love him far to much and he has to know. You take a look at his team mates. Your heart went out to Simon who looked like a kicked puppy in the corner of the kitchen, you haven’t seen Gaz since this all started and Price looked like a stressed parent staring at you wide eyed. 

Alejandro’s voice pulls you back into focus as he jogs over to you with the bag and various tubbing and needles. “Here you go princesa, what else do you need? Do you need help? Tell me what you need.” He gives you the look, the look of don’t lie to him and be honest.

Your hands shake as you grip the antibiotics "I-I need the men to leave. If he d-dies I don't want them to see. I-I-I can’t see their eyes if that happens." You stutter out attempting to refocus your train of thought as you look at John on the table. Your heart was shattering in a million pieces and it felt as if you had ice in your veins but his life was in your hands. The sheer weight of that rocked you to your core as your eyes met Alejandro’s. You could read him like a book and he was scared, for you. He nodded as he ushered the men out of the kitchen, some protest came from Price but he quickly saw reason. You take a calming deep breath as you hook up the antibiotics to his IV getting the flow of medicine within his veins as you begin to clean and suture the wound on his lower abdomen. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you watch your hands work, please with the first wound you make quick work with the gash on his ribs. Finally you make your way down to his thigh glancing up at Price who watched you from across the room. “He’s stable if that’s what your worried about” you state while you begin to pierce John’s skin with the needle.

Price, taking your statement as a clear to come closer to the makeshift operating table looks down at Soap. He was pale, sweat laid on his forehead but his breathing was even. “We can never repay ya Y/N, for what ya did.” He would say meeting your wandering gaze over John’s unresponsive body.

You would finish wrapping the various wounds in gauze and pads making sure everything was clean and the antibiotic's were working. “Don’t worry about it.” You barely push the words out as you stare down at your blood stained hands. Price nodded taking one last look at Soap before he turns around and ascends the stairs. You were finally alone and the weight of what just happened begin to crash down, tears begin to well up in your eyes, your hands begin to shake, and your ribs begin to feel like they’re going to crush your lungs as your breathing picks up. Just like a damn shattering all your emotions bubble over as you begin to sob uncontrollably while your body slowly slides down the wall of the kitchen. Your hands shake as you put them through your hair in an attempt to calm yourself down. You wanted to scream, shout, rip something apart, hold John, anything to make this clawing feeling out of your stomach. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck shit” you slur out in the midst of all the tears wiping them away furiously with your sleeve leaving John’s blood on your cheeks.

Alejandro rushes around the corner worried about the sudden sound of crying only to be met with your form crying against the wall. “Oh cariño” he says quietly slowly making his way over to you as if you were a wild animal. He sits in front of you slowly taking your form into his arms allowing you to cry into his chest. He gently rocks the two of you as if you were a small child. “Shh princesa, everything is okay.”

You curl into him, scared that if you let go all of the demons would sink their claws back into your mind as tears continue their way down your cheeks. “He’s not out of the woods yet Alejandro - he might still die. The sepsis, I might’ve caught it to late and he will die without knowing...”

Alejandro shushed you quickly. “Hey, none of that talk. He will make it princesa, and everything will be okay.”

You take a calming shaky breath against your best friend as you look up towards John on the table before you sigh and rise to your full height, Alejandro mimicking your movements. “Thank you cabrón, I’ll stay here for the night, monitor him...and you know” you mumble not really sure what else to say. Your brain was fried. 

Alejandro nods with a small smile before he turns around and plops down on the couch in the living room. You smile to yourself, he was never far away from you. You turn your attention back to John, inspecting the now fixed up wounds, the rate the antibiotics were entering his system and other various tasks. His color was coming back and his skin no longer felt like fire. You pull up a chair and sit down beside him, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave his side - you would never forgive yourself if something happened to him. This was going to be a long night. 

Two hours passed of you monitoring him, nothing has changed, everything was doing good. The only noise you could hear was Alejandro’s snoring from the living room. Your head snaps to the entrance of the kitchen at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Simon graces your vision with his arms crossed, most of his gear gone except his skull balaclava. “Hey” you give him a tired smile while you stretch from your spot. 

“How is he doing?” He asks you worry wrapped around his words.

You sigh as you look to John. “He’s stable, wounds stopped bleeding, the sepsis seems to be under control. He’ll be out for a few weeks but should be combat ready rather quickly if everything goes according to plan.”

Simon shifts his weight in front of you, sympathy written in his eyes. “Ya did good Y/N. It’s my fault he ended up like this, I should’ve seen them coming but they just came out of nowhere. They were on him before I could even fire a shot.” 

You step in front of Simon. “It’s not your fault Simon, you saved his life, and I don’t even know how far you carried him here. Don’t beat yourself up, please. I’ve been there, it’ll eat you up and turn you into something much much worse. You’re welcome to stay, I’m sure he would like to see his friend when he wakes up.” You offer him a warm sympathetic smile hoping to ease his worries. 

Simon would nod looking at the ground before he digs into his pocket pulling something out “MacTavish wanted me to give ya this, in case he; he didn’t make it” the man before you says rather quietly, with guilt weighing down his words. 

You raise your brow to him outstretching your hand before his to receive whatever it was in his hands. The cold metal lands in your hands the weight almost unbearable mentally. You swallow looking into your hand was John’s bloodied dog tags. Emotions crashed down on you again as tears well up in your eyes as you look back at Ghost, giving him a nod of thank you. “Oh Simon” you mumble holding the tags close to your chest.

“Johnny was worried about you, out of all things. He wanted to make sure I get those tags to ya” Simon mumbles arms crossed shifting his weight back and forth.

You give a small sad smile towards the man. “You’re a good friend Simon, and an even better brother.” 

Simons eyes met yours and it looked like you fractured some of the guilt he held within them. His shoulders relax some as he turns around and gets the other chair placing it on the opposite side of you by John’s side. “I’ll watch him if ya feel like resting Y/N.” Simon offers you graciously.

You chuckle, keeping the dog tags in an iron grip as you take a seat in your chair. “Oh you know me ghost man, this is my bed until he wakes up.”

Simon gives a small quiet, ghost like chuckle before he leans back resting his feet on the wine rack under the table “suit ya self.”

You rolls your eyes playfully at Simon before you put your hand on Johns forehead, his temperature was normal, everything was okay. “Oh John you stupid sassy Scottish bastard, why did I fall in love with you?” You quietly ask him.

Of course the question went unanswered, and the only noise that graced your ears was various volumes of snores from each of the men. But you, you couldn’t sleep. No matter how much your body begged you for sleep and weighing your eyelids down you couldn’t. You were too scared.

Hours passed with John unresponsive just the occasional stir and twitching of his limbs. You missed his smile, his laugh, and his voice. You would trade anything to hear it. As another hour passes and you begin to organize all the men’s gear in their own piles within the hallway connecting the living room and the kitchen so you could still keep and eye on John. It was now the early morning the sun was beginning to rise and the first of the men to greet you within the kitchen was Price.

“Jesus lass did ya get any sleep?” He questions you but it was sweet, even to you he acted like a dad. 

You give a tired smile to him while handing him some coffee you brewed a while ago. “No not really, been here with a sleeping phantom all night” you incline your head towards Simon who was still passed out beside his friend. 

Price chuckled and sipped on the coffee. “Lass, I’ve been wondering. Seeing as all the boys are rather attached to ya if ya would like to join our merry little band. Be rather handy having ya around to fix the boys up.” Your eyes met his as you take a sip of coffee, never in a million years would you think Price himself would offer you a spot within the 141. However guilt slowly crept into your mind, how could you leave Alejandro high and dry like that? What about his men? He continues to speak. “Take some time to think about it lass, I’m sure Soap isn’t out of the woods yet.” You hum turning your attention towards John feeling his forehead again and checking the bandages through his body. You admired his toned body, it was gorgeous, he was gorgeous.

“I’ll have to talk to Alejandro beforehand, I can’t leave in good conscious knowing Los Vaqueros won’t have someone to fix them up.” You answer Price, and it was a truthful answer. You wanted to go with them, and maybe you even hinted towards what your heart wanted to answer. 

Price nodded with a smile “of course lass I understand, and thank you for sorting the gear I’m sure the boys will appreciate it.”

You nod as you grab some fresh bandages from your trauma kit and begin to change them “it’s not a problem, really, John.” With that the conversation died and Price wandered off, to where you had no idea. 

Alejandro soon awoke and joined you within the kitchen his hair all ruffled from sleeping on the couch. You quietly chuckle as you hand your friend coffee giving him a tired smile. “Morning hermano, sleep well?” You motion to his crazy hair. 

He takes the cup gratefully and waves you off “eh don’t even start with me princesa.” He grumbles as he runs his hand through his hair making it somewhat normal.

“Oh Alejandro.” You shake your head raising your knees to your chest on the chair beside John, both your hands holding the warm mug.

Alejandro gives a deep hum as he looks to John who had a lot more color to him but still remained unresponsive and finally to you. Your cheek had a bloodstain on it, your hair was in a messy bun barely keeping your wild hair contained, there was bags under your eyes and your complexion was pale. You were exhausted both physically and mentally. “How are you feeling cariño?” His eyes locked with yours, piercing your very soul.

You sigh dropping your head into your knees, thank god Simon woke up and wandered off. Alejandro meant the world to you and Price’s words rattled in your head. You love Alejandro - with your whole heart and maybe a long time ago there was something between the two of you that neither of you wanted to address. It was a choice you never regretted it was safer to never address whatever it was that remained dormant within the two of you. “I’m exhausted Ale, I’m worried John won’t wake up I’ve never dealt with a trauma induced coma and I definitely don’t have the supplies to address it here. A-And don’t even get me started on what Price offered me this morning” you run your hand down your face taking a deep breath. 

Alejandro at first doesn’t respond, instead he comes closer towards you picking up a kitchen towel damping it under the tap as he gently grasps your chin in his hand as he cleans away the blood on your cheek. Only up close you could see how rigid he had become, you swore he would break his jaw with how tight he clenched down. “What did he offer you?” He mumbles out while fixating on getting the dried blood off of you.

You melt into his touch meeting his eyes with your own. “He offered me a spot within the 141 as their medic for a lack of better terms.” You quietly say almost scared of his reaction to this news. You knew he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you but he had fire within him.

He momentarily stops with the towel running his thumb by your jaw before he returns to cleaning it away. “What was your answer?”

Your eyes glaze over with sadness “I told him I would think about it, as I would have to make sure you and Los Vaqueros were okay if I did leave.”

Alejandro puts down the towel, turning your cheek to make sure all of the blood was gone before he rested both his hands on the sides of your jaw. “To me it sounds like you already made up your mind princesa. You don’t need my permission to go.”

Your hands now free from the empty mug wrap around his wrists gently, and action the two of you have done for years to ground the both of you. “I’m scared to leave you hermano. My whole life has been around you and your men, and you know I haven't been in the field since the fire that claimed how many men?" You could still feel the flames licking your skin, the heat of your snipers metal burning through your gear as your lungs choked on the smoke. The cries of the Los Vaqueros torment you late at night from that botched mission.

Alejandro gives you a small sad smile nudging your jaw with his hands to meet his eyes, “I remember princesa. I understand, I was scared too. For you and my men." He takes a deep breath almost fighting away his own demons. "But you are a great sniper, and an even better doctor. What does your heart tell you to do Y/N?” He rarely used your name, you knew the question was serious if he did. 

You sigh closing your eyes to prevent your eyes from watering “I want to go Ale, I want to see the world, I want....” your sentence was cut short by John’s grunts on the table as his eyes met yours. What you saw in them you didn't recognize.

"Fuckin' hell" he grunts out in pain his head returning to the table

You broke away from Alejandro "go get Price and Gaz quickly I'm sure they'll wanna see their boy up" you wave him off turning your attention to John's intense stare. A tint of pink on your cheeks. “John, how are you feeling? Be careful with your moment you have 12 stiches on your ribs alone and your system is still recovering from-”

You were interrupted as Price, Simon, Gaz, and Alejandro all barged into the kitchen grins all across their faces - except Simon due to the balaclava but you expected he had a small smile. “Johnny ya awake finally!” Simon was the first  to step forward placing his hand on John’s shoulder.

“Be careful boys, he’s still tender” you remind them while smiling at their happiness, and well yours. 

Price was up next “ya girl took good care of ya. She said you should be fit to leave in a few weeks time.” The captain smiled before John looked at you with a tenderness in his eyes. 

“Thank you love” he mumbles tiredly as he reaches his hand out towards you.

You smie as you take his hand in yours just enjoying the moment. 

{Present}

“For fuck sakes Y/N I told ya to stay back! Why don’t ya ever fucking listen?” John shouts some more at you just adding fuel to the already massive argument the two of you have been having. 

“Because I’m not some useless girl you leave hiding in the closet John! I can take care of myself! I joined the task force knowing what I was getting into! I left everything and everyone behind back in Mexico for this!” Your veins were flooded with anger and adrenaline, you don’t understand why John has been hovering over you lately. Everything you did was wrong, always putting yourself in danger apparently.

“Well maybe ya should’ve fucking stayed in Mexico with Alejandro! I’m sure he’ll love his booty call back!” He yells, but the moment the words come out he pales, realizing what he just said towards you

The words pierced your heart with force you felt your insides crack, but you wouldn’t cry, not in front of him. Instead you became quiet looking down seeing the shine of his dog tags around your neck. He let you keep them, as a thank you, and something to remember him by if something ever did happen to him. In this moment however, the tags felt like an anvil around your neck. You look up at the man, anger and hurt in your eyes as you begin to speak “I left Mexico because the man before me was worth more then anything. And I would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth if he asked, but I can see he doesn’t want me here.” You grimace at your own words turning quickly on your heel you dashed out of the room to get as far away from John as possible.

His own heart beat rapidly within his chest “fuck” he mumbles to himself as he stares at the floor before connecting his eyes with Simon, who witnessed it all. 

“Ya’re fucking stupid MacTavish” he gruff accent sparing the sergeant no remorse. John almost flinches at Simon’s words. He wanted nothing more then to chase after you and hold you and beg for your forgiveness. He loves you, more then anything. “That lass left everyone behind for ya and ya continue to shit on her because what? Ya scared she’ll get hurt? Get ya head out of ya ass Johnny. Grow a pair and tell her how ya feel before she goes back to Mexico.” And with that Simon left the room, leaving John in a whirlpool of his own guilt and emotions.

You sit on top of the roof of the safehouse currently staring at your phone screen as Alejandro’s face pops up on facetime “hey princesa! How’s it going? You calling me to invite me to a wedding yet eh?” He laughs but his smile soon fades when he looks at you through the screen seeing your tear filled eyes as you rest your arm on your knees. 

John found you on the roof almost 10 minutes ago but has yet to grow the courage to face you, instead he leaned against the wall, hidden from your line of sight as he listens into your conversation.

“I’m coming home Cabrón” you mumble out quietly sniffling into your arm. 

This shocked Alejandro, you, out of all people, wanting to leave the 141 and come back to him?

“What? Why? What happened? I’ll ship that bastardo back to Scotland in pieces if he did something princesa.”

You give a small sad smile, even after all your years of friendship with him he still remained protective over you; like a brother. “Ever since he recovered we’ve done nothing but fight Alejandro. His words hurt to my core. I did nothing but save his fucking life yet he treats me as if I’m some defenseless lamb.” Hot silent tears run down your cheeks as you continue to speak “why can’t he love me the way I love him?” You more so ask yourself that question then Alejandro through the phone.

The man grumbles even from here you could feel his anger and frustration through the phone like waves. “Pendejo. Listen princesa if you want to come home the boys will be ecstatic, if you choose to stay then I wish you the best. MacTavish isn’t the only man within the 141 that has his eyes set on you. Follow your heart. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

You give a small wave towards the phone with a ghost of a smile “I’ll see you in a few days Alejandro.” You hang up the call giving a defeated sigh as you look up towards the stars. You didn’t want to leave, no, you definitely didn’t. But your heart kept breaking and bleeding over someone who didn’t care. You wanted to cry, scream, punch something - or someone - all of these emotions ragged within you like an uncontrolled fire. You heard some rustling behind you quickly you pocketed your phone and drawing your knife from your boot, a gift from the ghost himself. You were in the mood to kill honestly, maybe it’ll dull the pain. Your hand grips the knife tightly as the source of the noise emerges from around the corner - revealing a very defeated John MacTavish. You glare at him as your heart ached, all you wanted to do was run to him, be in his arms and tell him you love him. But your feet were planted into the ground like cement blocks.

John looked like a kicked puppy almost scared to meet your gaze “ya’re as deadly as ya’re beautiful” he mumbles out his accent sending shiver down your spine. Fuck you loved him.

You grit your teeth as you shove the knife back into your boot “what do you want Soap?” The name felt foreign on your tongue almost like a stranger but you didn’t want to break, you slowly built the walls up around yourself one brick at a time. You saw the flash of hurt in his eyes which in turn hurt you but you wanted to know, no you needed to know. You needed to know if he loved you, loves you.

He took a deep breath shifting his weight as he crossed his arms over his chest causing his arm muscles to flex, the one place you wanted to be. “I came to ask no - beg - for ya forgiveness Y/N. I fucked up love. Please...please lass don’t go back to Mexico.”

You scoff turning your head away from him to hide the tears in your eyes as you mimicking his stance with your arms crossed. You can’t handle this, not this thick rotten tension between the two of you. “You have no right John, no right at all. Fuck you, you fucking Scottish bastard! I did my job! Back at the safe house in Mexico I gave you an IV, I stitched you up I kept you alive! You were septic! I saved your god damn life!” Hot tears poured down your cheeks as you stepped closer to him getting everything off your chest. “I stayed up with you for two nights in a row because I was scared, no, I was terrified if I closed my eyes you would’ve died! An-And Simon, fuck, he gave me your bloody dog tags! John! Your dog tags! When they landed in my hand I felt my heart shatter into a million fucking pieces because right then I saw a future without you in it. I love you, I love you like I need air, water, sleep.” You scream in agony towards him flashes of his bloodied form cross your vision as you slowly slide down the balcony wall holding your head in your hands as you lower your tone almost to a whisper “I want you to love me, the way I love you. I want you to choose me.” 

John moved in front of your shaking body sitting down in front of you as he puts his hands on your neck, slowly making their way up to the sides of your face wiping away the tears. “Love listen to me please sweetheart. When I got shot and Simon was carrying me to ya I was scared, I was so scared I thought I was going to die and ya would’ve had to deal with that. I would’ve left ya alone. It’s almost weird to say but I felt you there, when I was unconscious I felt your hands, your tears and I fought. I fought so damn hard to wake up and see ya beautiful face.” He gives a chuckle all while looking into your eyes that stopped producing tears “and when I woke up I saw ya with Alejandro I knew, well I knew before that I love ya. I love ya more then anything on this earth and in between. But then, after that whole fuck fest in Mexico and ya joined our task force I became scared. I thought of every possible scenario of me finding ya dead or ya and ya god damn good heartedness getting ya killed. It was wrong for me to treat ya like a defenseless lamb, I just...I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to ya.” The last bit he said with a shaky voice as you stare at him. Your eyes dart between his gorgeous eyes and his lips he was so close, so tantalizingly close. He looks at you, then your lips, and then you again. God he craved you. He slowly leaned in his lips grazing yours antagonizing slow. You smile as you lean in the rest of the way locking your lips with his wrapping your arms around his neck. Your heart bursts with joy as you grin against his lips and he copies you. “Fuck me lass ya have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.”

You smile as you lean in again with a glint in your eyes, “then do it again.”

And he did just that.

Again.

And again.

And again.

#John soap MacTavish x reader #soap x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader

[fluffy-little-demon]

Daddy's Perfect Toy

Bo Sinclair x Female Reader

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

This is the nastiest thing I have ever written. and I blame it all on @visceravalentines and @ventiswampwater and both their Bo fics.

This is the first time I have ever written something like this where he isn't your husband he's just holding you captive. My Bo fics are normally soft and comforting but not today. No we're gonna fuck shit up or more like Bo's gonna fuck you up. Now I've only written smut a couple of times so just keep that in mind while reading this.

I'm 5ft and I'm using it in this fic. It does have a tiny tiny bit of softness just cause I can't help it. Reader is on their period during this cause I'm also suffering through it.

Warnings: smut, noncon it's gotten to a point where you kinda sorta like it but not really, bondage, forced orgasms, he is filming the entire thing, taking photos, daddy kink, choking, marking, biting, blood play, creampie, throat fucking, shoves his fingers/thumb in your mouth, dirty talk, degradation, praise, size difference, objectification, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cockwarming, breeding kink, a lot of licking, cunnilingus.

Please let me know if I've missed something.

You woke up sometime in the afternoon with the worst stomach ache you've had in a while. You are sitting with your back against the bed's headrest. Your head falls down as if it's too heavy for your neck to hold up. Your bottom half is completely bare as it would 'restrict access' to have anything on, a certain man would say. The only item of clothing you are wearing is an old shirt that has a few holes in it. You're assuming it's Bo's. Slowly opening your eyes you see a red stain on the bed sheet in between your crossed legs. Your sleepy brain takes a couple minutes to realise that the stain is blood from your period. Your eyes widen as your head shoots up. You begin to panic because you know Bo won't be very happy that you've stained his sheets. You can't move to hide the stain because your arms are bound to the bars on the bed's headrest. Although you know trying to hide it would just piss him off even more.

You have been sitting here for hours. You try to think of what's going to happen next. You're not quite sure what his game is anymore. He told you you deserve a reward for being such a good girl that you went from being tied to a chair in his basement to being tied to his bed in his house. You're not quite sure how long it's been. You wish you knew what was going to happen.

Things were different in the basement. True it was a lot more uncomfortable being tied to that chair but at least you knew the routine. Food, shower then fun time as your captive would call it. You both have very different ideas on what fun is though. The shower however in the basement it consisted of baby wipes. In the house you get to have an actual shower yes but only with him either watching or joining. That little voice in your head that sounded a lot like him reminded you that you hadn't earned privacy yet.

You turn your head to look out the window, noticing it was starting to get dark. It was around this time that Bo would bring you some food down into the basement. Except you had already eaten today. You had a burger and fries that Bo made. He has been giving you actual food since you've moved into his bedroom. You'd never admit this but he is a pretty damn good cook. It's definitely a couple steps up from the microwave meals you were being fed in the basement.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the glow of headlights and the sound of Bo's truck. Sitting up straighter after hearing the door slam shut. You feel yourself smile hearing his loud footsteps. You can't believe you're even a little excited to see him, you feel sick. You straighten out your legs to try and hide the blood even for a little bit. Putting a smile back on your face before the door opens. Bo walks in holding a glass of water, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey baby girl, got ya a drink." he brought the glass to your lips so you could have a drink. Placing the now empty glass on the bedside table. Bo sat by your leg on the edge on the bed facing you. He slowly puts his hand on your knee. You flinch slightly hoping he doesn't notice, if he did he didn't comment. Tracing circles with his thumb, he sighs then looks at you "ya know I've had a pretty shitty day ta day. Hoping you might help me with that"

Before you had a chance to reply, not that he would listen to you anyway he would do what he wanted regardless. You see him setting up a camera. He makes his way back over to you after the light turns green.

He began by softly holding your chin and running his thumb across your bottom lip before pushing it through your lips into your mouth. You knew exactly what he wanted as you began to suck. Bo smirked, immediately moving to attach his mouth to that sensitive spot behind your ear. You were trying not to make any noise. He removes both his hand and his mouth from you before going to undo his belt and tugging his jeans and boxers off.

Kneeling over you so his crotch is right in front of your face. Grabbing his dick he pumps it a few times before lightly tapping the tip against your lips. You reluctantly open your mouth as he presses himself all the way in. Trying desperately hard not to gag because you know he would enjoy it too much and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction. You could already feel tears starting to form in your eyes, your hands gripping the bars. You can feel him lay heavy on your tongue, trying to breathe through your nose. He grabs your head with both hands pulling out slowly and without any warnings rammed it back into your throat. Causing you to choke and gag. You go to try to push him off so you can get some air but your arms are still tied to the bars on the headrest. Bo chuckles darkly as he is full on fucking your throat. Everything, every part of your body feels like it's on fire, you can't help but start crying. Bo looks down on you and a low growl escapes from the back of his throat. "Goddamn princess, you look fuckin gorgeous when ya cry like that!" He grabs his polaroid camera taking a picture of your tear stained face and cock stuffed mouth. Giving the picture a shake then places the camera and the photo back down.

Bo thrusts a couple more times then rips himself out of you before he has the chance to cum. You take in several deep breaths but they are each painful. Your lungs are burning and your throat is hella sore. Bo leans down and starts licking strips up both your cheeks. He then grabs both your thighs and pulls them apart. He sees the blood stain on the sheets, you think he is about to get mad but his eyes darken in a very lustful way. Looking back up at you with a kinda half smile "don't worry bout it darlin' I'll change it afta we done" he winks and spreads your legs even wider. "This is such a pretty pussy, and it's all mine." He dives right in devouring your cunt hands gripping your thighs. You're trying not to make any noise but with his tongue hitting all the right places in your already sensitive cunt it's becoming really hard not too. He growls into your pussy sending vibrations right into your core when he feels your walls clench around his tongue. Moaning, you try to arch your back but it's difficult in the way you're sitting. Releasing one hand from your thigh, he glides a finger through your folds and then another and then another.

You are so so close "b Bo, ohhh 'm c close" you feel him growl again. Sucking and swirling his tongue like it's his last meal on earth. You wish you could grab hold of his hair as you cum hard in his mouth. He had swallowed your juices yet kept going at it. You feel your eyes tear up again as you try to unsuccessfully wiggle your away from his touch. He has an iron grip on your thighs that will no doubt leave a mark. You try tugging your arms against their restraints to push him away.

"Bo, p please" your over sensitive walls clench as his continues to fuck you with his tongue. After your second orgasm hits. Bo's eyes look up at you as he licks straight up your folds. The way the blood is smeared around his face mixed with some of your juices that has dripped down his chin makes him look absolutely gorgeously feral. Bo straightens up to capture your mouth with his. He loves that you kiss him back. You're breathless as you break away.

"You taste fuckin' amazing baby doll, daddy just can't get enough." He has a smug smile as he uses two fingers to scoop up your folds wiping them on your face not forgetting to smear some on your lips. He shoves his fingers in your mouth to suck the rest off before going to untie your arms. Bo takes off his shirt then yours then guides you to lie down. Lines himself at your entrance before gliding in. Kissing your forehead, giving you a little time to adjust.

"Yer so tiny baby, daddy's cock is all up there" he pokes the bump in your belly where he is buried. He pulls out watching the bump go down then rise as he enters you again. Bo does that a couple more times before his pace speeds up. Your brain feels completely fuzzy. You're not even sure if you can produce words at this point. He lifts your legs up into a mating press. Your back arches as you let out an almost pornographic moan. Your nails are clawing at his back as he sucks marks on your neck and chest.

"Ya really are fuckin' made for me princess" Bo groans "my perfect little whore" his hand wraps around your throat squeezing just enough to make it a little uncomfortable. "Who do ya belong to baby? Who does this pussy belong to?"

"Y you Bo"

His hand squeezed a little bit more "who?"

"Daddy it it belongs to you, I b belong to you d daddy"

"Good slut"

Bo loosens his grip on your throat but keeps his hand there as he thrusts into you harder. Your mouth falls open but you don't hear any sound come out. Your nails dig deeper into his back. If he's leaving marks on you, you're gonna mark him too.

Bo feels your wall clench around his cock. He knows you're close. You try saying your close but all that comes out are whimpers and moans. "What d'ya need sweetheart? I can't understand yer whimpering"

"Wanna cum"

"Ya wanna cum?"

You nod

"Where?"

"O on your cock"

Bo looks at you with a smirk like the big bad wolf. "The little cockslut wants to cum on my cock uh. Who would have guessed that?" "Well you have been very good lately so go ahead, cum for me" "m gonna fill you up for being such a perfect toy for daddy to play with. You deserve it princess" Bo sinks his teeth into the part where your shoulder meets your neck drawing blood, leaving another mark. He fucks you through your orgasm and cums deep inside of you.

Stays still for a few minutes before Bo puts his hand under your back and rolls you onto your side with him still buried in your warm cunt. He wraps his arms around you and you can't help but snuggle into his neck very thankful for the comfort and being too fucked out to care.

Tag List: @sketchy-rosewitch @rottent33th @phantomcat394 @lanamiller comment or send an ask if you want to be added or removed.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair smut #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x female reader #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair fic #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #sinclair brothers #sinclair twins #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher fucker #house of wax x reader #kim's writing

[mermaidsirennikita]

What's your theory on what's going on with Kate or do you not care enough to have one?

I mean, I've had a pretty solid theory since the day they announced she had abdominal surgery and she wouldn't be back until after Easter.

(I notice that a lot of people who are new to this versus true to this think the Royals have said this and meant "she'll be back on Easter". OH NO MON AMI. If they had her LOCKED DOWN for Easter, we'd know at this point. They would've announced it.)

Is it possible that this is all a part of a divorce play by her (and William is trying to get her to stay) or William (and Kate is doing a Gone Girl type move where she's basically refusing to cooperate)? Yes. I am more open to that than I once was.

However, I say:

--This family is not as divorce-averse as people think, lmao. I see people go "but the Church of England" okay but like... the King.... is divorced... He divorced the most famous woman... maybe ever. And shit got better for him after they stopped twiddling their thumbs and did it. The royal family knows that it is ultimately better to just call it than to try and make someone stay. Anne is divorced, Creepy Uncle is divorced. It's not as taboo as I think some people feel, so if she's leaving... why concoct this story to keep her in the game?

And like, I do think William has SOMETHING WRONG WITH HIM... because no sane individual would attempt to handle this as he has been, and it is HIM, Kensington Palace is HIM, and Charles's office seems to be very hands-off about all this. But idk, being like "my wife had abdominal surgery" to hide her leaving you is a bit... much.

--Then we go to "he's divorcing her"/"has cheated one too many times" and she's in hiding. First off, adorable if people think Rose is the only one he's fucked with in this 20+ year relationship. I think there are probably MANY issues with that marriage aside from cheating, but Kate is not Diana. Kate was with William for a long time, during which I'm sure he cheated, before they married. She knew what she was signing up for. Is it harder than she thought? Probably. But I don't think she'd pull something like this over cheating, because the man ain't gonna stop so it's like... leave him or not.

But then on William's side... I don't know, dude. Yes, Charles really wanted to be with Camilla. I don't think it's as romantic a story as people think, but there got to be a point where if Charles was going to be with Camilla, he needed to marry her, and Diana didn't want to be queen anymore, so they just... divorced. I don't buy that William is attempting to force an unwilling Kate out of the picture to marry Rose. I think that if William wanted to be with Rose and Kate didn't want to leave, he'd simply have Rose as a mistress, as many royals before him have. And then, where's the logic of this man replacing Kate with Rose, but also trying to make everyone believe he's a good father and husband with this "William took the photo of Kate and the kids" bullshit?

So while I know some viewed the random article(s) about Rose as "soft-launching the mistress"... I did not. I saw it as warning shots from the media. They're not very happy with Wills; they know shit; here's a random article about a totally random lady they know nothing about besides her being a random marchioness who looks like Kate, who lives near William and Kate, who used to be friends with Kate but isn't anymore...........

--I also just think the idea of her being perfectly well in hiding is kind of ridiculous. Because I just feel like... unless she's in a basement somewhere, someone has to have seen her in all this time. If she's well??? And can walk about???? You're telling me she's either never left some house or has and someone hasn't seen her? Even Princess Charlene had to make up some bullshit about why she was in South Africa for weeks when she tried to escape that one time. (I wish more KateGate people would read about THAT story.)

If they're not divorcing, what is it?

If that woman could appear in a short little outing, not even speaking, maybe in a wheelchair, and look well enough... They would have her out there. It is INSANE TO ME that people think a family that regularly shopped Diana around at events, knowing she was self harming and binging and purging and throwing herself down the stairs while pregnant, that ignored how increasingly upset and mentally unwell Meghan was (while pregnant)... would just let Kate sit back when the world thinks William has like, chopped her up into little pieces and put her in a fridge.

I'm not even saying an engagement! I'm saying a quick "here's William pushing Kate around the garden", "here's Kate sitting and watching her kids play in the yard, VERY clear VIDEO FOOTAGE (because they've fucked it all up, nobody believes still images of her anymore, I don't buy that the woman in the pic in her mom's car was her 100%, and I think the most recent pic without her face in it is probably an old one being shopped as new) is needed. And they're not making it happen.

And I don't think it's because they won't. I think it's because they CANNOT. Like, if she was okay, I do tend to feel like Charles might actually make her show the fuck up, but I don't think she is and it's on William to handle it. (And William fucking up kind of benefits Charles, because they are always in competition. "Charles has cancer that's why he's not doing it" Charles is not only... Charles. He is Camilla and their entire office.)

So. I think she is either incredibly unwell mentally, or incredibly unwell physically--beyond what they've implied. I think there's probably some truth to what the Spanish press has reported about her health. I feel like something probably happened around December 28, and she is having a hard time.

And why not just SAY THAT?

Because a) this is a very old-fashioned ableist family that treats issues that have to do with mental and physical health with shame, and I mean, they have literally locked members of the family they find unwell away before, and if you look at what they did to Diana beyond what The Crown even showed... this is not very off b) William is a disaster who thinks he knows everything and both uses the press and truly hates it, OR SO I GUESS NOT KNOWING HIM AT ALL and his PR strategy has never been good so once confronted with a genuine crisis he's flailing c) of WHAT CAUSED this incident.

Did increasingly horrible conditions in that family and in her marriage cause Kate to do something? (I don't know why people would think this is crazy when her mother-in-law literally discussed passive suicide attempts and constant suicidal thinking, though I suppose the Windsors have recently made a lot of headway with their "Diana did it all because she was crazy" versus "Diana did it because we drove her crazy" press tour.) Did someone hurt her? Did she have unhealthy habits exacerbated by the royal life that led to medical complications? I don't know.

And I also think it's possible that they're hoping they can get her back to "peak condition" if they have enough time, and it's possible that simply won't happen. No matter what does happen, though, I can tell you that there is no way they can get their way out of this looking the way they did before.

Anyway, I've been on this train since literally day 1 and everything they're doing just makes me feel increasingly correct, so. The press is starting to turn. The New York Post (a Murdoch rag, which therefore SHOULD support them) started doing write ups about how her health may be much worse than they've let on. It's not good.

Disclaimer: theories theories theories speculation speculation alleged alleged

#like again i dislike kate but her kids didn't do anything to deserve the trauma of their mom being seriously unwell #so genuinely HOPE this is just a divorce thing #that is like... the best case scenario it's beginning to feel like #but idk those ghouls always have me thinking the worst

[hilkaro]

Christmas One-Shoot-Silly-Special You & Fox Edition

🎄🎄🎄

You kneel with your hands on your knees next to the chair where your master sits. Fox reads a book, wearing reading glasses on his nose, legs crossed, his hand playing absently with your hair.

You savor this moment of peace and relaxation, glancing around the room. Outside, snow continues to fall steadily, enough to likely build a snowman. The fire crackles happily in the fireplace. Your eyes fall on a calendar hanging nearby. As Fox's pet, the concept of time or passing days no longer holds significance for you, but you notice a marked date. Today is December 23rd.

"Oh..." you let out a quiet sound of surprise. It's almost Christmas already.

You realize that the hand, which was playing with your hair moments ago, has frozen in place.

Damn!

You look up and meet his golden eyes. Bravo. You managed to capture his attention. That's the end of enjoying a moment of blissful peace.

"Something wrong?" he asks in his usual hoarse voice, a faint hint of curiosity lurking in it.

"Nothing, just... Christmas is almost here," you reply softly and shyly.

His gaze shifts to the calendar. "Hmm... true. So what?"

You squirm within yourself as he closes the book and sets it aside. Damn! Damn!

"Don't you care about the Christmas?"

You're taking a big risk with this question, but you have to say something; he expects it. Fox straightens up, placing both legs on the floor.

I'm not the Christmas kind of person, however…, he pauses his voice for a moment, his eyes sweep over your form and you immediately feel a cold sweat, "I could celebrate a little this year."

He stands up from the chair, wraps a leather leash around his hand, and pulls it, forcing you to stand.

"Come."

You both descend to the basement, a place you despise for the amount of humiliation and pain it witnesses, but also for the pleasure it brings. Fox nudges you towards the restraints, where he secures you in his favorite position — on your knees, hands bound above your head. This time, you receive knee guards with a spreader bar in between, preventing you from closing your thighs, no matter how much you may want to.

"Wait here."

As if you could go anywhere. You can't do anything about it. Your breath quickens, and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You know that in a moment, he'll return, and the play will begin. His play.

Indeed, after a while, Fox comes back, carrying a large box labeled "fucking christmas" in his hands. He's wearing a Santa hat, and his ears poke out from the white fluff. You recognize that he's humming the Christmas song "Let it Snow" under his breath.

He places the box on the chair, the only piece of furniture in the room, and rolls up the sleeves of his black turtleneck.

"What do we have here..." he mutters to himself, examining the contents and pulling out a red ribbon wound on a spool. "This will do!"

You swallow hard as he approaches you, having no idea what he's planning.

"Oh, I forgot about your clothes, what a oversight! You won't need them anymore."

He puts aside what he has in his hands and effortlessly tears off your meager clothing. You hiss through clenched teeth as the torn fabric irritates your skin.

"Well, that's better," he says with satisfaction, tossing the rags to the floor. He takes the ribbon in his hands and stands very close to you. His crotch is near your face and his already slightly engorged cock rubs against your cheek through his jeans. You try hard to look elsewhere.

Fox starts wrapping the ribbon around your wrist, then descends lower, winding it around your entire arm, then your torso, creating careful knots at several places, forming a pattern resembling a turtle shell. Then, diagonally, he wraps the ribbon around your thigh, accidentally-on-purpose brushing against your sensitive flesh multiple times, eliciting a gasp from you each time.

You see a smirk on his face, and you bite your lip.

When your leg is wrapped with the ribbon, Fox bites off a piece and returns to the box. You wonder about this peculiar bondage; the soft material embeds itself into your supple skin, but not unpleasantly.

He comes back with red bows, placing them on the knots on your torso. He takes a few steps back and looks at you appraisingly, puts a hand to his face and tilts his head as if he's thinking about something.

You glance down at your body; you feel like a wrapped present. The thought raises your temperature, and you feel a flush spreading across your cheeks.

Meanwhile, he approaches you again, this time with Christmas lights in his hands, and starts wrapping them around you from the opposite side of the red ribbon. He also wraps them around your chest, avoiding the bows previously placed there. When you are fully adorned with lights, Fox disappears from your field of vision humming to this "Last Christmas I gave you my heart", and after a moment, the colorful bulbs illuminate. You didn't expect this, and now your eyes are teary. You try to blink away the tears intensely.

"You look really adorable," he says in a low and hoarse voice, approaching you. "Like a real Christmas tree..."

He walks over to a box and humming the tune Jingle Bells, he pulls out two golden bells attached to clips. You nervously shake your head as Fox approaches you. You know exactly where he's going to place them, and you brace yourself for the pain.

"Relax..." he advises, fastening the clips onto your nipples.

You hiss in pain, and a few tears roll down your flushed cheeks, but fortunately, the uncomfortable feeling is easy to ignore after a while. Your nipples have been through so much that these clips are no challenge for them.

"See, it's not so bad," he says in a soothing tone.

With each deep breath you take, the bells lightly jingle, which would be amusing if it weren't for the fear of what will happen next.

"Do you know what else a real tree needs?" he asks in a light tone, and you shake your head in response, causing the bells to ring louder.

"You're missing a star on top," he answers, pressing a golden glass star into your stiff fingers. "Just be careful, pet; you wouldn't want to drop it, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," you confirm weakly, wondering what harm dropping such a glass star on your head might cause.

"Hmmm... something else..." he murmurs, returning to the box. He pulls out a small bauble.

You look at him with wide eyes, wondering where this small decoration will end up.

"Open wide~" he says cheerfully, placing the bauble right by your mouth.

With hesitation, you open your mouth, feeling the delicate glass ornament being slowly and carefully inserted. Eventually, the bauble wedges between your teeth.

"I'd be very careful if I were you. You wouldn't want to cut your lips and tongue, would you?" he asks, sounding caring, as if it were your idea and not his.

You immediately start salivating. Fox looks at you with satisfaction, using his thumb to wipe the drool from your chin.

You can do nothing but breathe through your nose and watch his every move with wide, terrified eyes. Meanwhile, he disappears from your sight again, only to return with a massaging wand in his hands.

"Are you ready?" he asks in a low voice, his tail twitching with excitement. "This year, you've ended up on the naughty list, and Santa isn't all that saintly..."

#the price of flesh #tpof announcer #tpof fox #ren hana #tpof ren #ren hana x reader #shitpost #fox x reader #christmas special #im not obsessed

[anna-hawk]

Lonely as You

Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock Fandom: The Punisher/Daredevil Rating: E 🔞 Word count: ~2k

Summary: After one particularly hard mission, Frank realizes that Matt has a tough time dealing with his emotions.

Tags and warnings: angst – porn with feelings – emotional hurt comfort – canon typical violence (mentioned) – bathtub sex

This is yet again inspired by @nkeiiin, who struck again and hit me straight in the feels with this drawing.

Also read on AO3

“Hey, come on, Red,” Frank muttered softly, as he stooped low enough to get a hold of one of Matt’s elbows and help him up from where the man was sitting on hard concrete. “Let’s go… Nothin’ we can do anymore. The cops’ll be down here in a sec.” 

Matt didn’t move for a few seconds, his head still facing in the direction of the scene they’d brought an end to only a few minutes ago. Almost too late. Definitely too late to spare the kids they saved the future nightmares and hours of therapy. 

At least they got to go home, right?

Glancing at the small group of kids sitting huddled in a corner of the basement they were in, Frank tugged at Matt’s arm more urgently when he heard the sounds of police sirens just outside the large house. Thankfully, Matt finally moved and let Frank pull him through a door that led to a small tunnel and outside through a hidden trap in the backyard. They’d made sure to compile all the evidence they’d gotten on the trafficking ring on a USB stick, the hidden entrance included, and leave it for the police to find, along with the knocked out or dead criminals. 

Back outside, the two vigilantes quickly made their way towards Frank’s van that was parked in a secluded place a few yards away from the house and hidden from the police’s view. They took the direction of one of Frank's safe houses that they’d used during their planning for tonight, the small house only fifteen minutes away. The whole drive was done in utter silence, which wasn’t the real issue here, since that was more or less the norm between them. It was either bickering and bantering or being silent as they worked together. When they weren’t fucking it out afterward, for that matter. Frank didn’t mind any of the ways that he spent with Matt. As much as Frank was used to working alone, he was sometimes glad that he didn’t have to. Especially if it was Matt he was teaming up with. 

The current silence, however, felt deafening and left Frank with a bad feeling in his gut. He kept throwing Matt small glances and could practically feel each of Matt’s negative emotions coming off of him in waves, as if Frank were the one with the heightened senses. It was really because he knew Matt well enough to know what must be going through the man’s head. Probably stuff along the same lines as Frank's thoughts about what those kids had had to go through before they saved them. 

Parking in front of the house on the outskirts of NYC, Frank got out of the car after Matt had done the same and made his way to the entrance door. The smell of their lunch was still in the air, but it made Frank’s stomach roil with disgust this time; any hunger had fled him completely after tonight. Focusing his attention back on Matt, Frank followed the man into the tiny kitchen and watched him duck his head under the faucet to drink deeply. After he’d closed the water off, Matt stood there for a moment, his hands gripping the edges of the sink. 

“We should get cleaned up,” Frank tried, slightly unnerved by Matt’s unusual kind of silence. 

Frank had killed some of the men tonight, the situation and his rage getting the best of him. Was that the reason for Matt’s behavior? As much as they argued, the only true sticking point between them was the way they dealt with criminals. Matt refused to kill and continuously tried to stop Frank from doing so. Frank did try to hold back on the lethal blows, but on nights like today, it was impossible for him. 

Matt only nodded briefly and walked to the bathroom, Frank automatically following him. He didn’t really know why, but he felt like either of them being alone right now wasn’t a good idea. With his back to Frank, Matt turned on the faucet in the bathtub and plugged it closed as soon as the water turned hot. He slowly began removing his gear, starting with the helmet, and let each item fall to the tiles. Frank remained quiet and unmoving, thinking hard. He wanted to reach for Matt, but since he didn’t manage to get a read on the man, he refrained from it. He sighed when Matt was almost fully undressed, but still hadn't really acknowledged Frank's presence.

“Listen, Red… I know what you’re thinkin’… But those guys? They didn’t deserve to live. Honestly? They deserved far worse before I put a bullet in their heads, but-”

“You’re right,” Matt cut in softly, stopping Frank in his agitated explanation. 

Frank watched as Matt put a hand over his eyes and tilted his head back with a sound that almost sounded like a sob. His eyebrows creased while his gut clenched at the sight of utter misery in front of him. 

“I’m glad they’re gone, Frank,” Matt admitted, his voice raspy as he turned to face Frank at last, revealing every emotion to him. “That’s the only thing I could think of,” he laughed without humor. “I listened to their heart beats slowing down, and I wanted them to stop, I…” He turned his head away and shook it. 

“Wishin' for someone’s death and killin’ someone ain’t the same thing, Red,” Frank spoke gently as he took a step closer to Matt. “Everyone’s havin’ those kinda thoughts. Still don’t mean you wanna do it. Gonna do it.” 

Matt shook his head again and swallowed hard. “It’s not the first time I’ve wanted to… nearly did it, too.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Didn’t I? Tonight? I didn’t stop you, Frank… You know I could’ve. Sometimes I can’t, sometimes you’re too quick and… but not tonight. What happened in that basement? Sometimes I think I’ve seen it all and then… Fuck… I watched you do it, Frank, and-”

Frank cupped Matt’s jaw with both hands, and Matt’s hands came up to circle Frank’s wrists on reflex. 

“Stop.” He said it gently, but the tone was firm. “You ain’t me, Red. And I’d kill any last one of those motherfuckers we fight if it means you ain’t ever gonna fall to my level.” 

Matt gritted his teeth and leaned his forehead against Frank’s. 

“I don’t want you to do that. Not for me, either. Killing isn’t…” Matt went silent, much to Frank’s relief. Tonight wouldn’t be one of the nights they’d argue about God and who did or didn't deserve to die. Tonight, Matt was closer to Frank’s way of thinking, but Frank wasn’t happy about it in the slightest. Not if it almost broke Matt to admit it. 

The hands on Frank’s wrists vanished, only for them to appear at the hem of Frank’s body armor and go for the fastenings. Frank didn’t question it, and wasn’t surprised in the least by Matt leaning away briefly to tilt Frank’s face in the right position with one hand and kiss him. The exchange had nothing soft in it. It was demanding and desperate at the same time. A sharp breath left Frank as he kissed Matt back hard before taking a step away from the man's scorching touch to get out of his clothes. Matt wasn’t a silent observer, though. He went for Frank’s belt buckle, as Frank was pulling off his shirt, and made quick work of unzipping and lowering Frank's jeans. Frank nearly stumbled as he tried to undo his combat boots with his pants at mid-thigh, but he kicked them off and reached for Matt again as soon as he was fully naked as well. His hands went to Matt’s ass and pulled him closer as Matt’s tongue glided over his with a groan. Matt pulled away slightly and led Frank to the bathtub. After getting in, Matt turned off the faucet since the water had reached the desired level, and Frank joined him a second later. Thankfully, the bathtub was large enough for what Matt had in mind. He lowered himself into the water and laid back, silently beckoning Frank to slip between his parted legs before drawing him down for another needy kiss. The water sloshed against the sides as they moved into position, with Matt’s legs folding over Frank’s hips while Frank held himself up with one hand on the edge of the tub. Their hard lengths slid together in the hot water as their hips moved against each other, making both men groan into the kiss. 

“Fuck me, Frank,” Matt moaned against Frank’s mouth, before slipping his tongue back into it. 

Frank growled and kissed Matt deeply. “Ain’t got anythin’ in here to-”

“I don’t care. Just like that, Frank. Need this.” 

Frank huffed, while his own desperation for closeness shot through him. Lifting his head, he caught sight of the bottle of shampoo sitting in the corner of the tub and reached for it. Better than nothing. He was fine if Matt didn’t want to wait, but he didn’t want to actually hurt him. 

“Frank,” Matt breathed, tugging and pulling at Frank. 

“Water ain’t fuckin’ lube, Red. Just…” Frank managed to single-handedly get some of the shampoo onto his hand and lifted his hips until their lower parts were out of the water. He coated his dick and quickly slid a slick finger inside Matt, before pressing the head of his cock against Matt’s entrance. 

“Fuckin’… Christ,” Frank grunted, while he pushed against the tight ring of muscle and was granted slow access. 

Matt hissed, but his mouth fell open on a whine of utter pleasure once the first inches of Frank’s cock breached him. It was slow work, but Frank was soon lowering them back into the water and began to move. One of Matt’s arms wrapped under Frank’s while the other one went over Frank’s shoulder, both hands gripping at Frank’s back, the fingers digging into the muscles. Frank pressed his face against the side of Matt’s neck as he fucked him with long and deep thrusts. The hand that had gone for the shampoo was now under Matt’s leg to open him wider for Frank. Matt’s moans and cries of pleasure reverberated all around the tiled room, while more and more water slapped against the sides of the tub and ultimately over them, drenching the floor around it. Neither of the men paid it any mind, their focus solely on each other and the need to feel the other, forget everything else around them. 

Matt suddenly came with a choked out sound without either of them ever touching his cock, his arms wrapping tighter around Frank’s back as he jerked under the larger man. As if Matt’s orgasm finally allowed Frank to let go as well, Frank lifted his head to capture Matt’s lips as he pushed into the other man a few more times before he was following Matt over the edge. He could feel his release coating the inside of Matt’s hole, and groaned at the way Matt contracted around him with aftershocks. 

After a minute of silence, this one more comfortable than the previous one, Frank gently pulled out. As Matt groaned, Frank felt glad that they were already inside a bath, so they could shower off quickly, his body feeling heavy after everything that had happened that evening. Matt shifted under Frank and pulled the bathtub’s plug to let the dirty water run down the drain. Frank stood and pulled Matt to his feet, before he reached for the shower part of the bathtub. They rapidly cleaned up and dressed in the same silence.

After reaching the bedroom, Frank looked back to a hesitant Matt. Generally, they didn’t spend the night together, not in bed anyway, but Frank didn’t think twice about catching Matt’s forearm and drawing him inside the room behind him. Matt uttered a small sigh of relief and went quietly. He settled inside the bed and Frank wrapped his arms around him from behind, his forehead to Matt's nape. 

Frank knew that nothing had changed, Matt would keep warring inside his mind with his far from catholic thoughts, but at least he wasn’t alone. 

Not anymore.

#fratt #frank castle x matt murdock #frank x matt #frank castle #matt murdock #fratt fanfiction #the punisher #daredevil #mes fics #based on fanart #fratt smut #fratt angst