#wheezes softly and with much desperation

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Between Dreams and Sugar

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: Your screams will haunt his dreams until the day he dies.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Torture, gore, angst, violence & death, suggestive joke, fluff, happy ending, rescue fic but who rescues who...>:)

A/N: Guys, I have a confession - I don't think I can write Ghost properly lmfao. This is horrifically mid.

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

There was so much blood coating your body that you had forgotten where the wounds were and weren’t. It flowed from you like viscus water—a homogeneous mixture of congealed shades of red like rubies except for the simple fact that this was not beautiful; it was not desired or sought after. 

 On the ground, soaking in indistinguishable pools of crimson, ripples are sent out when your limp foot twitches mutely in its clutch. That was all you could do now. Twitch. Writhe. They didn’t even bother tying you to the chair anymore—just let you slouch half out of it like a school kid who had gotten too drunk the night before. 

Hell, you wished you were drunk. 

“Sergeant.” 

You wished you could feel your fingers. You wished you could move your neck up from its bend position as if it was a wilting flower; hair stuck to your skin. Blood dribbles out of your mouth. Drip…drop…drip…drop. 

You’d bitten your tongue open in a vain attempt to stop yourself from screaming, hadn’t you? You…you can’t quite remember.

“Sergeant!” Groaning long and low, the violent chills that wrack your form only serve to make yourself bleed out faster, tension forcing precious life fluid out from burst veins and slashed ankles. 

Cuts far span your legs and shoulders. Your back is nothing more than a painting of burns coated with sweat and infection; puss sticking you to the backrest of the chair like yellow-colored adhesive. Your clothes are the opposite idea of modesty. Tattered, torn by blades to create harm. Fuck, could you even breathe properly anymore?

Lungs only create a wheeze—you’re not getting enough oxygen to function. 

A dark growl bounces off the walls.

Ghost struggles against his binds, uniform also in a state of disarray with very obviously broken ribs and bruised chest. Splotches of yellow-white mounds signal blunt trauma over the pale skin that’s already laced with old scars. 

They’d all but anchored him to his chair—and even then the red marks that blister are a signal of the brutality of the large man as he peels back his skin to try and struggle himself out. 

You whine, the loftiness stuck in your brain addictive; to pull back that curtain was as much of a struggle as staying awake. That harsh Manchester accent was something to draw closer to, though, professionalism a key to the lock on your failing consciousness. The reminder of companionship.

“G…” Your vocal cords fizzle, “Ghost…” 

“Open your eyes.” Every word was enunciated, deep and guttural.

Parting your lips, more blood drowns your lap in thick globs, and soon your battered throat vibrates with coughs that make you see stars, mild panic the moment you realize that you can’t breathe. 

Jerking forward, you gasp, eyes snapping open as your neck bends ahead in desperation. Mucus and other bodily fluids spray over your lap, tinged scarlet, but the blockage in your throat is dispelled as your broken ribs quiver in agony. 

Whimpering like a kicked dog, you wonder how long it’ll take for Ghost to realize getting you to focus on him was pointless. If this all continued, you’d be dead within the day. 

But you entertain him.

Head slowly balking back as your jaw hangs loose, you rest it on the wooden frame behind you as softly as you’re able with a most likely concussed brain and a fractured skull. Only one eye opens, and even then it’s half-glued to your cheek with dried blood. 

Ghost’s balaclava had been ripped off. It felt wrong to see him in the open like this. Exposed. It was quite obvious he disliked it just as much as you did. 

Blue eyes blazed at you; blonde hair going this way and that as crimson fell down the swell of his Adam’s Apple from a very broken nose. That gaze was unrelenting, and even with your blurry vision, you knew it would be unwise to look away. 

His stubbled jaw sets as a heart can be seen skipping beats in his breast. You were totally out of it, enough so that you missed the way his lungs slightly released when you had pulled yourself back to the present. 

The gulping sigh.

“That’s it, Sergeant.” You cough once more, wet and haggard, and your head falls back to your chest before you have to force it back up on shaking muscles. It was getting harder. “Easy does it, then…Thought I lost you.”

“C��can’t,” the useless feet flicker over the ground, sloshing through fluid in unstable jumps as you slur out, “Hurts, Ghost.”  

A slow and dark inhalation meets your ears before a sudden grunt of a struggling body; jerking arms as the chair squeals with old nails being torn out. 

“I know, Birdie, I know.” His tone is lesser now as he bites back a curse as the blisters on his arms pop, the rope burns turning a vile color as his muscles strain, “But you keep those pretty little eyes on me, yeah?” 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. 

Black Operations were dangerous, yeah, but never had the Lieutenant been so down in the gutter as he was right now. Mainly because of you, no, entirely because of you. He could withstand months of torture—mental and physical—with no problem. He’d done it countless times before. 

But never had he been forced to watch someone hurt you instead of him.

They would come in every day, these pitiful excuses for German drug runners, and would make him watch as they ripped open your skin with blunt knives and other tools coated in rust. Questions would be asked—questions that Ghost knew he could not answer even if it was you who would get punished. 

Every time you would flinch when the door to this concrete basement opened, it was harder to keep his tongue from wagging. He was watching you die; letting it happen. 

Fuck, it made him sick.

Ghost violently reems a shoulder up and down, not caring about the long stripes of now oozing blood on his forearms or the pain that the action brings bone-deep. There was so much scarlet flowing from you. Too much.

What he knows for certain is that he can’t let you die here. He’d never forgive himself for that.

How is she still conscious? The question was utterly genuine as Ghost’s dead eyes narrowed dangerously, sparking with urgency at the uneven risings and fallings from your chest. 

“Fucking hell,” the Lieutenant growls, each word punctuated by a desperate attempt to free himself. He had to get you out of this. You were his responsibility; his team. 

His…Ghost pants, sweat dripping down his arms.

You didn’t abandon him, how could he do the same to you? When questioned you hadn't given up his true name, hadn’t blabbered to save your own skin so you could avoid a horrible amount of pain. Pain that Ghost knew well. 

Pain that was never supposed to be known to you.

Your screams would haunt his nightmares until the day he died. 

“Ghost,” blue eyes freeze, snapping away from the sight of the bone around his wrists becoming visible through a thin coverage of remaining flesh. He pauses like a guard dog. Your optic was glinting, flicking with failing consciousness. The movement of your chest sputtered as the man clenched his teeth together. “You’re hurtin’ yourself.” 

“‘Bout to do even more damage, yeah?” he gets back to it, working enough blood into the rope to make it slick; dripping. “If it’ll get me out of these bastard things.” 

The weak smirk on your face gives his brows a deep furrow, sweat glistening on his forehead.

A part of him hated you. Hated you for the way you had this effect on him. He shouldn’t care if you lived or died—that wasn’t his cross to carry. 

But you’d made him soft these last few months. Soft, and weak, and disgustingly concerned for your safety. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t Ghost. 

“Gonna b…bleed out, y’know.” Your tongue slips, mind so loose that anything that comes to the front slips out like water from a slip-and-slide. Fingers twitching, your limp body grows so cold that you shiver. 

“Negative.” Ghost barks, slipping one hand partially under the restraint and his flesh, acting as a zipper, starts to go with it. He hisses under his breath, body hot and spilling. Mutilating himself. “Shut your damn gob.” Blood splatters to the floor, “I’m gettin’ us out of ‘ere.”

“Tell me a joke.” Blue eyes flicker, blonde lashes slipping over pale cheeks. 

You feel another wave of pain shutter through you—one that makes you whimper as quietly as a soft breeze on a summer day. 

“Joke?” Ghost hisses, glaring over at you without heat. “The fuck are you on about?” A wobbling eyebrow raise is all he gets. 

He grunts feral-like, evocative of a bear that hadn’t gotten his supper. Your lid droops and panic spikes.

“How long can a fish breakdance for?” Ghost slips a hand free, snarling in the back of his mouth as the entirety of his left hand is left ripped open, the fissures itchy and welling. Wasting no time, the limb goes to assist the other, pulling with ripped-off fingernails at the tight knot. A side-eye is sent your way.

Only you weren't moving. Lips snap in a moment of obvious concern, not only by the tone but by the way the man jerks forward in the chair—no matter if one arm and both of his legs were still restrained.

“Love!” The door handle rattles with screeching chains, but Ghost is occupied with raging at you. Ordering you to stay awake with terrifying eyes. It was as though for the first time in a long time there was true fear in his throat. True hatred. 

Chucking voices heat veins that he had long since thought were cold, and the Lieutenant composes himself with a sharp pause. He leans back slowly into the chair; jaw so tight his molars almost crack in the back of his mouth like candy. Your face is tilted downward, and Ghost memorizes the make of it, trails his gaze slowly over every slash and cut that mars you. Feet slap off the concrete as multiple people enter the room, but it was like a switch had flipped internally, walls going up.

The mask was still there, even if all that physically remained of it was the black paint in his sockets.

He’d return every mark, from a bruise to an open wound, tenfold. But you needed to wake up first. You…you needed to.

You had to be okay.

Three men encircle the two of you, faces hidden and obviously enjoying a bit of their own product.

“Look at this, Lutz, the man got a hand out of the binding.” Blue eyes travel to stare dead-on into a pair of blown pupils; mind gone. 

The second man goes to grip your hair, forcing your head up in inspection. Ghost’s vision immediately travels over, biceps going tense like a dog with its hackles raised and vision going red. 

“Don’t worry about that. It’s one hand, what can the Bastard do?”

“Oh,” another laughs, though his body is wound tight, “careful with the woman, Alric—the beast looks like he’s about to snap at you.”  

The three share sly looks. Alric, the one with your hair in his grip, shakes your head back and forth, blood flying around in the air as your limp body jerks. Ghost lunges, but he only makes it as far as the chair allows him before he’s shoved back by a hand on his chest. 

Moving quicker than an animal, bone snaps, and an agony-laced scream echoes off the walls not a millisecond later. 

Ghost had gripped that hand and twisted, making the wrist joint completely flip on itself. Blank blue eyes watch with glints of sadistic glee as the man wails, grabbing onto himself and falling back onto his ass.

The one holding you instantly releases your hair and rushes to his friend. 

“Holy fuck!” Everyone divulges into frantic German curses, Ghost making out a command to leave and go see a doctor.

“Cheers. Good luck with that, ya’ Bastard.” Grumbling under his breath, the Lieutenant realized he was probably enjoying this more than he should, but always his attention shifts back to you. How you hang limb, battered face covered by your hair, and loss of blood steadily leaving your hands curling into the palms—

Ghost’s eyes widen slightly as the two still try and calm down their companion. Your hand. It wasn’t curled because of onset rigor mortis. You were holding a blade. 

The Brit’s large chest swells with pride; jaw going somewhat slackened as he stares at you. So you were faking it….Fucking hell, Sweetheart. 

Slowly, his vision peels to the empty sheath on Lutz’s belt. It wasn’t a big knife—nothing more than a three-inch blade on the end. But you were still conscious enough to hear these goons show up before he had; had used sleight of hand that anyone else in your situation would have just given up on. 

It was hard to hold back a low chuckle, but he managed. Fuck, you were something else.

The two unmaimed men shove the third out the door, shouting down the hallway as his sobs and sniffling nose reverberate even as he’s out of sight. 

Grunting, the Brit shifts his hips, lips pulling in a snarl at the bouncing electrical wire that goes up his ribs. Many were broken; along with his nose and a dislocated shoulder, but he knows he can deal with it. Getting you out and to the Evac point was his top priority—his wounds weren’t over-the-top life-threatening unless they went too long without treatment. 

You on the other hand. 

Lids narrow on the way the knife-holding hand shakes with exertion when simply applying pressure. If this was going to happen, it had to happen now.

“That was a nice little show,” Alric growls, standing in the middle of the two in the chairs and keeping a considerable distance farther from Ghost than you. Blue eyes blink blankly, emotions swiftly wiped away. “One-handed? I’m impressed.” 

Ghost raises a single blonde eyebrow, “More where that came from.” 

Alric smiles.

“Emil—get the gun.” Legs slowly tense, but other than that there’s no outward display of nervousness. 

Seconds later a barrel is level with Ghost’s forehead, the chilled metal pressing deep into his blood-coated skin. He doesn’t balk back, he doesn’t even flinch, just watches with a dim flicker in his optics that remains even after he blinks. Like a cat’s slitted pupils. 

It would be no use shoving the gun out of this man’s hands—he would fire before the Lieutenant was able to steal the weapon for himself. 

“I’m getting sick of this game, Soldier. We’ve been through this day after day.” Alric swipes at his nose, white powder stuck under his nostrils. Ghost can’t stop the small tick of his mouth. “Tell me who you are,” the gun swivels, and the Brit’s heart seizes up. It points at your abdomen. “Or the girl gets a nice new stomach.” 

Lips thin into a small line as hidden fury swells. 

“Alric…” Emil seems nervous, his feet shifting and hands twitching. The aura Ghost was emitting was like a dark cloud around the room; sheer size and indistinguishable emotions rose to drown out all else when a threat to the beast’s bird was brought into the picture. There had been multiple times throughout the days when the men had been scared to touch you at all for fear of the look that had been leveled their way. Those eyes…fuck it was like a demon was stuck in flesh. In blue so close to gray the color was more like the concrete of a prison cell. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Tell me.” Alric growls as Emil gets closer to you. Ghost stays silent, unblinking as his fingers curl into fists. His knuckles crack from the force. “Tell me!”

Emil bushes your shoulder and you lunge. Bringing the blade into his chest, your form brings the both of you to the floor in a splash of scarlet and twin screams of pain. 

The Blonde’s heart seizes at the sound in an aggressive bounce.

Alric whips around, eyes widened and gun loose in his grip. Ghost wastes no time, trusting your judgment, and shoves himself forward. A shot goes off as the Lieutenant rams his shoulder into the man, but the bullet bites into the far wall instead of your back as you dig your knife into Emil’s throat; wrestling for life. 

The chair still attached to Ghost was a problem, but his body weight was used to his advantage. Sinew bunched as a growl exits his lips, Alric and him slamming to the floor in a flurry of rabid intentions and the likeness of wolves caught in a trap. Ghost’s eyesight goes red, remembering every cut and beating you went through for him in the reflection of Alric’s eyes. That pathetic drug runner had made you bleed. 

His bird doesn’t bleed.

Teeth and nails are tools kept for animals, and now that the gun was too far from grip and you were limp beside the gargling body of Emil, Ghost decided that being a bit insane might do him well at the moment. 

He had to get you out of here. And in no world was this man going to get away to live one day more.

“Please, don’t,” Alric begs, clawing at his behemoth build, “I’m not—I wasn’t—!” 

Blood-stained teeth snap into the thin flesh of a visible neck as dead blue eyes keep you in sight like a dog does the moon.

—

You don’t recall anything after slashing one man’s neck and even that is a blur of flashing colors; instances of one waxing expression waning into another. Trapped between bouts of failing consciousness and pain that could rival someone getting their bones snapped one by one. 

But you know the feeling of moss on your cheek. The shadow that sits above you and the fingers that prod at your back, pressing cooling salves of Silverweed into the burns and cuts. Your eyes weakly flicker, a low moan stuck in your throat. 

Every limb is a cinder block.

“Stop your moving.” The command was stiff but quiet, and the pressure on your spine increased. Flinching, the sensation of tight bindings all along your body became apparent to you, slowly but surely. 

“That…hell?” You cough, throat bare and dry. Sweat drips down your temple. 

Blinking rapidly, you try to focus on the cold wind whipping past your bare skin, the trees in the distance of what appeared to be a glade. The sound of a running stream makes your ears perk.

A canteen was suddenly shoved to your lips and you grunt in surprise, water slicking your closed lips.

“Drink.” You don’t argue, peeling back your lips and letting the liquid drip into your mouth, most falling to the moss under you and getting re-adsorbed into the earth. “...There’s a girl.” 

The metal container disappears just as quickly as it showed up, and you lick at the corner of your lips, cheeks burning at the comment.

Ghost kneels above you, bar a shirt, and you narrow your lids to focus on the black and blue splotches completely covering him. He still doesn’t have a mask, and you glance over the blonde stubble; the scars, and the aggressive set of his eyebrows. The blood had been washed away, and you wondered if the stream in the background of this place was still stained with crimson and the telltale black of eye paint.

“Simon,” whispering seemed appropriate, though you don’t know why. Your voice was better now but still, your body refused to listen to your instructions. Every plea to move your arms or legs was denied, sharp needles poking into your flesh that made you shake. “What…?” 

Blue eyes blink down at you, something hidden in the depths. A finger curls to flick a stray hair from your face slowly. Skin brushes skin.

“Snagged what I could before I ran off. Wasn’t much.” That harsh voice, the gravel in it. You frown weakly, your lids heavy. “Bandages. Extra shirt. Blanket I used to stop the bleeding.”

He won’t tell you he was begging you to wake up when he’d been stuffing old fabric into your open wounds. 

Coughs wrack your frame, whole body jerks that overtake what little peace there was to be found. A hand tilts your head back to the ground, patient as the other grabs your hair, peeling the strands away as a flood of vomit escapes your mouth. 

Eyes burning and face hot, you sputter as a thumb runs deep circles over your scalp. 

“Easy…” Ghost whispers, tattoos like obsidian in the darkness of the world around the two. Late afternoon and this was the first time you’d woken up since he’d been carrying you. A nail was taken out of his heart. 

Seeing your eyes flicker, even filled with the tears as they were, was a blessing he’d thank whatever God that was out there for. “Easy, Sweetheart. Breathe for me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, shaking more than a leaf. “Fuck it hurts, Simon.” 

He shifts you slightly away from the bile, the familiar words burning his lungs. 

“Evac point is four miles.” It felt like a death sentence to you, your eyes going buggy at the thought. “I’m carrying you there.” 

“Bullshit,” you pant, wheezing. “Your arms are destroyed.” 

Ghost blinks before scowling, sending a glance to his limbs. They’re both raw and skinned, just like his fingers; red with burst blisters the size of rocks. One hurts far more than the other.

“They’re nothing.” 

“Nothing pretty to look at,” blue eyes narrow on you in annoyance, but the dry-humored Brit doesn't miss a beat.

“Seems you’re in good spirits, Sergeant. Fancy walking on your own?” Your lips flick, delirious and high off of whatever pain meds that Ghost had found when he had been carrying you out of the basement of that house. 

Try as he might, the feeling of your dead weight was worse than he ever could have imagined. So, outwardly, he stayed numb but knew that every little look from you was as beautiful as a sunrise. 

“Want me to try?” Palms begin to shift, a hand pressing deep into the moss that bends and yields to your form. 

Ghost snaps forward.

“Fucking Bastard!” He puts weight on the back of your shoulder as you hiccup dull chuckles, “Quit it! Else I’ll leave you here to annoy the damn plants.”

The threat was empty, and your eyes softened as they spread their fatigued gaze over the span of the Brit’s visible skin, glee leaking out. Ghost sighs, shaking his head sharply at you, agitation stuck in his skull as it always was.

So beastly, this man, but his hold on you was about as gentle as you could imagine. 

Your attraction to him was anything but one-sided. You knew his emotions as well as your own; it was quite obvious to everyone but him. The long looks, the concerned glances. His touch freely given.

He had given you his name and, to you, that was about as close to a proposal as a ring was. You’d kissed; you’d shared beds and shared skin. You knew when he was being horrible to himself deep in the confines of his head.

“Simon,” you whisper, and a blue gaze stays stubbornly away, glaring at your burns with venom. A tired smile peels your lips. “Simon.” 

A huff is all you get, a bush of skin as breath wafts over your bare back. Your hand goes to touch his knee, brushing softly over the torn fabric. The flinch would not be noticeable to anyone but you. Brows pull slightly tighter. 

“I had a dream about you, y’know.” Speaking hurt, but the attention that is finally brought your way was worth it. Birds chirp in the distance.

“What’s that?” 

“Hm,” you lightly nod, cheek ruffling moss as you take down slow inhalations. Staring into each other’s eyes you for a moment forget the agony under your skin. “You were trapped by a giant fish underwater.” 

A Blonde eyebrow raises, slow smirk unable to be hidden. It was impossible not to be entirely taken by you. How you speak, how you breathe. Even like this, you had placed a spell of black magic over him, binding the darkness that made up Simon Riley—Ghost—to your every action and whim.

“That right, Sweetheart? What happened, then?”

Chuckling, Ghost’s hold goes to your neck, massaging the skin so delicately that you lose your train of thought for a moment as shivers erupt, “I had to save you.”  

Lips press to your scalp, a bent nose digging despite the shifting cartilage as lion limbs shake with a want to drag you to him. Such a rabid beast that devotes himself to your life.

“You tend to do a lot of the savin’, Love.” It’s muttered into your hair, softly, lowly. Compliments are rare—Ghost prefers actions above all else—but they’re treasured. 

You know what he means.

“Yeah, I love you, too, you brute.” Deep chuckles dance in your ear, and you both stay there for a while, simply breathing in each other as the sky bleeds into the earth. So content, your heart had slowed, the salve in your wounds and the bandages compressing the areas with the most problems and forcing them to be numb. 

When you had nearly fallen asleep, Ghost had peeled back to look down at you; eyes malleable as they slipped over your battered body. 

“Hm,” he hums, reaching to his side and grabbing for the shirt he had stolen. After a few minutes of quiet curses and apologetic kisses, the large piece of fabric was over your top. The Lieutenant had begrudgingly admitted that the scraps of pants you had on now would have to do until you got proper attention. 

“Giving the squirrels a show, then, Simon?” The man rolls his eyes deeply at the sarcastic comment, rubbing up and down your legs to keep circulation going as he readies to move you.

“They better keep quiet ‘bout it,” Ghost grumbles, running a hand through his hair, “Else I’ll have to rip a few tails.”

“So violent,” You wince when your shoulder is gripped, neck limp as your upper half was rotated. Gnashing your teeth, the Lieutenant shushes you comfortably, raising your body to rest in the crook of his large arm. Muscles tense and loosen, your cheek now resting on your Lover’s pec. You hear him hiss silently at the pressure on his broken ribs as guilt hits you. “Not the squirrels’ fault.” 

“It is if they keep looking at ya. Only I get to see you like that.” Your pain-laced laugh is cut off when you’re lifted, large hands under your knees helping equalize your body. 

A strained whine exits your lips, straining to get air as you pant and clench your eyes shut. Ghost wasn’t doing much better—gritting his teeth and tilting his head back. 

Feet stumble before righting themselves, lids opening as lashes flutter over bloodless cheeks to stare down at you. 

The word seems to stop.

“...Tell me you’re alright.” You heard that for what it was—Tell me to keep going, because if you don’t then I won’t be able to. 

Blinking up at him, your nose slots under his chin as you feel him shake with exertion, lips pressing deep into his raging pulse. You swallow down saliva as his grip on you tightens, pressing you closer; giving you his body heat.

“I’m okay, Simon. Not…not lost yet.” 

“Good.” He lets his eyes close for a moment, taking you in as he lets his nose be coated in your scent, the flesh under his fingertips. Ghost knows some of your wounds reopen, and, thus, his bare feet start off into the woods. His men would still be at the Evac point waiting for them. Price would have given the order. “...I’ll be needing you ‘round. Might lose my head otherwise, eh?”

“You do seem to have a few loose screws when I’m not near.” 

“That was an exaggeration,” Simon grumbles. 

You scoff, trying not to puke at his limping steps. The word swirls, but the man carrying you stays ever clear. “No,” you whisper, “No, it wasn’t.”

Scared lips pull up, but the birds respond for him. 

Less than ten percent out from the Evac point is when you drop a tidbit of a thought to the man.

“Y’know what I want, Ghost?” The large Brit side-steps a downed tree, sweat dripping down his chin to splatter to your skin.

“What is it?” He pants, sparing you a glance as his eyebrows are constantly furrowed in concentration. Your talking made it easier to push on.

“A fucking cake. A big one.” Blue eyes blink and his feet nearly stumble to a stop before he forces on. A gasp of a chuckle makes your heart skip a beat as voices start up from the next tree line.

“Keep talking to me, Love, and I’ll buy you the whole bloody bakery.” Soldiers burst from the bushes, and Ghost calls out identification as everyone gapes. Guns immediately lower.

Medics rush forward, but still on high alert, the Lieutenant snaps at them, bringing you closer into his hold as he pushes onward. 

“Where’s the fucking heli?!” Everyone stops and points. Huffing, Ghost shoves forward. 

“The whole bakery?” You slur, giggling and feeling the kiss on your head. 

“Every bastard pastry’ll be yours. Count on it.” 

—

“Simon, you promised.” Your wheel-chair bound form pouts as the man in question deadpans from behind you, leaning on the handles. His balaclava can only hide so much.

The air is sweet with the scent of desserts and bread. 

“Birdie, you can’t eat all ‘O that, you’ll explode like you took a .308 round to the head.” The woman behind the counter pales, pulling at the collar of her shirt with her smile becoming strained.

“Is that a challenge?” You glance over your shoulder, smirking wide. 

“No,” Simon blanky states, the skin over his nose bridge and under-eye completely black and blue. 

“I think that was a challenge.” 

“It wasn’t.”

The customers grind their palms into their eye sockets, some tuning around in line and leaving entirely.

“Simon,” you intertwine your hands and lean to show him, eyes wide and pleading. “Please.” Drawing out the word, you smile with everything you can. 

The both of you connect in a battle of wills—you with that infectious innocent and sly nature, and Simon with a tight glare and tired eyes. A blatant will to please you in every aspect and a need to see you happy at all times. This goes on for a full minute before a loud sigh echoes off the walls, shoulders deflating. A hidden kiss is pressed firmly to your head.

You giggle loudly at the authoritative order.

“One of everything.”

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[bunnys-kisses]

simple woman

simon "ghost" riley

cw: mask kink, dub-con, breeding, bimbo-ish!reader, size difference/kink, choking, finger-fucking, degradation (misogyny), impregnation/pregnancy, minor praise kink, there's a lot happening a word from bunny: like the fic! suggest your own! comments are always welcomed <3

simon just thought you were the sweetest thing to come out the army. he must've thought they were getting desperate by letting a scaredy cat like you in. look at you, you could've even hold a gun steady with your arms shaking! tsk, tsk, tsk. someone like you shouldn't be in a place like this, with all these scary men.

they'd eat you alive and then chew on your bones. they'd lick you in and out like the inside of a crisp package. stay with simon, he'd keep you safe. but safety came with a price. and that price landed you with an extra eight inches inside of you.

he had you alone for the night, away from your barracks and into the single room he had. the privileges of what he did. but a good girl like you had to behave. be good for him.

strong fingers were thrusted in and out of your sweet cunt as he kept another hand of his around your neck to keep you quiet. he wore his mask to conceal his face. even after all this time you saw was his lips and the nasty scar on one side.

"that's a good girl." he said quietly, "i like how you act when i'm three fingers inside of ya. you take me so well."

you whimpered and clutched onto his shoulders. he was just so big compared to you, in every sense of the word. he at least had a head over you and broad enough shoulders that he easily blocked out the sun when he loomed over you. he was strong and domineering.

"that's my girl. you know no one else can have you, right? because if the wrong fucker tried to take you from me. they'd simply end up in pieces in the river."

your nailed dug into the meat of one of his shoulders as you tried to support yourself. you whimpered as he held you still by your throat as he moved his fingers faster in and out of you. you kicked your legs out but he curled around you to keep you close to him.

"stop that, love. i'd hate to have to tie you up and gag you." he squeezed a little and you wheezed. he knew he was in control, he loved the control he had over his little doll.

you squeezed onto him tighter as you tried to take as much air as you could between the moments he relaxed his grip. he dipped his face into your neck as inhaled your sweaty scent, to him it smelt amazing.

"simon." you croaked.

"no, no, girlie. it's lieutenant. and not lt like soap says." he reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your throat and tapped his finger against your nose. he watched you take a deep breath after being deprived of (most) air for some time.

you sputtered and coughed and he continued to fuck you with his calloused fingers. he admired the mark around your neck that he was certain was going to go purple within a few days. he wrapped an arm around around shoulders and pulled you into him as he continued to brutalize your cunt with his fingers.

you panted and moaned into his skin and your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to leverage yourself. you felt on the knife's edge of pleasure even if it was rough and messy. your toes curled as you panted heavily. the room felt hot and your head felt like a mess.

simon was the only anchor you had to reality. you moaned softly into his strong neck, you could feel the sweat drip down it and onto your nose. it must got hot under the mask.

when you climaxed, your cunt tightened around his fingers. he knew and clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. he watched your tense as he finger-fucked you, then when you relaxed and collapsed onto the bed with you nude body on display for him.

he pulled out his fingers and slipped them under the back to get a taste of your wetness. he groaned to himself before he got your legs off his lap. he got up from the bed and started to undress. you looked at him, your mind was drawn to a blank as you saw the muscle on his body.

he wasn't simply built the way men in superhero movies were. he was like a classic strongman you once saw in a book. you could tell there was heavy muscle, but a layer of thickness over top. it kept him warm in the cold months on base. if he were an animal, it would be like a bear. bulky, intimidating, ready to tear apart whatever victim got in its jaws.

he was scary, you were in love with him.

simon didn't love, he obsessed. his entire life had been stalking, almost hunting for the 'bad guys'. when he worked it was an obsession to track down the likes of terrorists, so it would only make sense that he loved the same way.

he got undressed, but still opted to keep the mask on. you could see his stern dark eyes staring at you as you laid on your stomach on his bed. he could tell you were still out of it, your mind a blur.

"that's a good girl. nice and dumb for me." he chuckled quietly to himself as he approached the bed once more, "no need to think about a damn thing, just how good i make you feel."

"simon, please." you whimpered.

he chuckled as he came over and ruffled your hair, "i know, i know. you're always trying to prove yourself to captain price. but i know what you're capable of. meant to be a good doll for me, maybe instead of being a Sargent, you can become my wife. a better fittin' title for you." he rarely spoke much, but when he was with you and your brain was splatted to the back of your skull, the words came out.

his tongue was filthy, but he saw how you reacted to them. he knew you were a dirty whore, he was just lucky to find you first and keep you all to himself.

he sat down on the edge of the bed and groped your ass. his touches were rough and you tried to back away from him on the bed. but you could never truly escape simon. he was a ghost, he'd find you. so don't go running away, as he always warned you. he wagged his finger at you like you were some kind of child.

but now he was kissing at your neck and gripping your ass with his broad hand. he loved how you felt under him, how he pressed into you. he could crush you so easily, that was why he never understood how you even got into the army. you bruised like a fruit, there were many times he grabbed you and were left purple within a few days.

simon loved the bruises. but only when he did them. he wasn't going to beat you down, you were his doll. but he did enjoy the sight of the splotches of purple and blue on your hips when you undressed for him. he wondered if your fellow soldiers ever gossiped about them.

but that wasn't anything to worry about. soon simon would have his way and you wouldn't even be in the forces. as he moved your hips to be at level with his hard cock, he thought about the nice house he'll get for the both of you.

somewhere he can keep you safe, his hidden treasure. he did want children, he wanted many of them. and you'd give them all to him, he wondered if your folks would be okay if he got you knocked up before the wedding.

the thought made him smile under his mask as he sank down into your pussy, all eight inches slammed into the back of your pussy. you let out a loud moan but he clamped a hand around you mouth to keep you quiet.

"i'm pretty sure." he said, "you don't want the base to know how much of a fuckin' slag you are." he kissed your cheek through the mask harshly, "that's for me to know." then started to thrust in and out of you with on hand around your mouth and the other on your shoulder to guide your body up and down his cock.

the mask up against your hot cheek was overstimulating, the fabric of the balaclava was rough against your skin. your cheeks stung as he thrusted up into you.

the bed squeaked under you two as the headboard hit against the wall gently. simon was lucky that he didn't have any neighbours in that direction.

he was domineering over top of you, he had you under his weight as his cock bullied against your cervix. you gasped and moaned into his hand as you saw stars in your vision. you were such a treat.

he was obsessed with you, he only wanted you. you were everything to him. now he just needed a piece of land and enough security to make sure that no one was going to hurt a single hair on your head. after all it was his duty as the man to make sure his wife was alright.

"you're perfect like this. this is how a woman should be." he remarked, "under me, letting me fuck that sweet cunt. you're a good girl for me. you'll make a good role model for our girls."

you squeaked and your eyes went wide for a moment. but then he slammed against your womb and your eyes rolled back from the intense pleasure. you held onto the bed under you and your back was arched as he fucked your harder.

he was practically fucking you up against the headboard, with your body contorted so he could thrust into you without much abandon. your wet pussy made the most delicious sounds as he used you. it felt so good. it was like you were made for him.

he groaned against you and continued his harsh thrusts. he kept you pinned to him, where you belonged. "pretty girl like you was probably told her entire life that you could be whatever you wanted. but, i know better. meant to be a wife and mother to a good englishman." he chuckled in your ear, "make the queen proud by havin' a few brats with me." he felt your cunt tighten around him which made him groan, "my doll likes that, huh? puttin' a man on top for once. don't worry i ain't no deadbeat. happy wife, happy life." he pulled up his mack a little so he could get the feeling of your heated skin against his lips.

you hated how he talked down to you because you were a woman. you had enough of it in the military. but it stirred something in you that you had little words for. maybe the idea of having a few kids with simon wasn't a bad idea. no more trainings, no more missions. just you and him. even as you tried to shake the thought off, your body responded by clenching around his cock. As to ensure that he stayed right in your pussy.

he dropped your face onto the pillow and held you by the neck. then with his other hand he raised your hips further. he was holding you up as he bruised your pussy with his cock.

"nice little place out in the country. five kids should be enough to keep ya busy. five under four years if we're lucky." he chuckled darkly, "kept woman, that's what you'll be. my lovely wife in her place, as she should be." he chuckled. you couldn't even look behind you to see the face he was making with his mask pulled up every so slightly.

"simon." you whimpered.

"what did i say, doll? you're a lower rank among other things. don't make me punish ya."

"sorry, lieutenant." you squeaked.

"good girl." he continued his harsh thrusts that left the bed moving. your brain felt like mush once more, his words rang in your head like church bells. you were too far gone with him, he was obsessed with you. his claws were in you long before this and there was no escaping it now.

it almost brought a cold fear in you at the idea of taking another lover. if he found out someone touched what was his. you could only imagine the damage he'd do, not only to the man you were with but also you, yourself.

his movements started to stagger, he had less focus and was relying on instinct as he rammed his cock into you. he was getting close to his own climax. your pussy was such a delight around him, you accommodated his large size perfectly. you were a dream.

he gave a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you, "good girl, take me all. that's it. make sure not to spill a drop or i'll have to get find ways to keep in ya next time."

"yes, lieutenant." you moaned into the pillows. you tensed when he started to play with your clit. his fingers were fat but nimble. they rubbed against your sweet spot as you clenched around his still hardened cock.

"i ain't done with you yet, love." he said in your ear as you climaxed around him, "got a couple more loads before i think i've seeded ya enough. you just lie there like a good girl and let me take care of everything."

there was no option to say 'no', you were pinned under him with his cock buried inside of you. you meekly nodded. he chuckled and you shuddered.

you knew it was going to be a long night.

-

the last name riley wasn't the worst one to have. simon often joked that it could be long like mactavish. it had been three years since you left the military to be his bride.

now you were on your fourth kid, about six months pregnant. you hard a girl and two twin boys. you wanted to keep the gender of baby number four a secret.

he had your legs open, he held onto your thighs as he sank his cock into you. he groaned out loud. the kids were asleep which meant it was time for mama and papa to play.

he placed your legs up against his chest, closed to one side. he then leaned forward and bent your knees as much as the belly would allow. he had you in a press as he bullied his cock into your pussy.

he groaned as he felt the tight heat around his cock. you looked perfect in his eyes, you gave him everything he wanted. you were a fine mama, a good wife to him. he gave a few gentle thrusts as he looked into your eyes.

the mask was long gone, but the look in his eye remained back when you first started to have sex. he was obsessed with you still and every little thing you did.

there was no place you could ever hide from him. he had claimed you inside and out. but it was alright, he intended on keeping you for a long time.

"good girl." he grumbled.

"thank you, lieutenant." <3

#bunny babbles #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod modern warfare #cod ghost #cod #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty modern warfare

[moon7jay]

Now he knows... (p.sh)

"It's not even funny i don't know what the fuck you are giggling about right now to be honest" You sassed hitting sunghoon's shoulder.

"Because you are jealous of my pet puppy I can't breathe baby"

"It's NOT THAT. Stop saying that. It's how you didn't mention me when jake asked you about the cute females in your life ! like fuck you actually"

Sunghoon guffawed and rolled onto the floor while you continued watching him with narrowed eyes. This was serious for you. He wiped the few tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes and sighed, trying to keep his laughter at bay.

"I just wanted to show off how gaeul has been able to use the snack button you know? It's cute"

He honestly found you adorable as you huffed and puffed at his words, a pretty pout forming on your lips "so i need to install a snack button in my room and press it with my paws everytime I need a snack for you to call me cute? Is that what you're implying?'"

Sunghoon wheezed and rolled around holding his stomach again. You didn't even know that you had a straight connection to his funny bone.

"keep laughing, fuck you and fuck your stupid puppy and that stupid snack button and fuck jake" You grumbled throwing a pillow at sunghoon's laughing form.

"MY NAME WAS MENTIONED AND I DON'T LIKE THAT" jake yelled from outside.

"WELL FUCK THAT " You shouted back and could hear jake grumbling something about sunghoon's taste in women.

Sunghoon pulled himself together, catching his breath and made eye contact with you, still lying on the floor.

"actually she also has a potty bin-

"PARK SUNGHOON I DARE YOU TO FINISH THAT SENTENCE"

Unbelievable. You huffed dramatically and plopped yourself on his bed, your back facing him. All you wanted was to be called cute but your boyfriend loved teasing you to the point where you wanted nothing to do with him. Dramatic much? You asked yourself.

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling when you felt the bed dip behind you, his hot breath on your neck and arms manhandling your body onto your back while he hovered over your pouty self, his face inches from yours.

"jake doesn't need to know how cute you are baby, you know why?" he asked, resting his body weight on one arm at the side of your head while with the other he started to grope your body. A gasp escaped your lips when he grabbed your tits tightly, your back automatically arching into his touch.

"because then I'll have to tell him about the cute sounds that you make for me" His words were backed up by his actions as he pinched your nipples harshly from over your thin tank top, making you mewl underneath him. He stared down into your eyes that were beginning to water because of his rough touches.

"do you want him to know how cute you sound for me? How you whine so prettily it drives me fucking crazy?" He grunted, capturing your lips into his own messily while his hand travelled down to part your legs open. He grabbed your pussy from above your shorts, making you moan into his mouth.

"since you're so fucking desperate baby, let's show jake how cute you are yeah?" He asked pulling away from your body, standing on his knees while he unzipped his jeans hastily. You were shaking your head and pleading to him with your wet eyes but sunghoon wasn't listening to you now. "N-no I'm s-sorry-please hoon" you begged softly, little sobs escaping your lips in a shameful mix of humiliation and arousal when he pulled your shorts and panties down your soft legs. "let's show him how cute you are while you're being split open on my cock" your hands came up in an attempt to push him away but you couldn't make any progress. Sunghoon chuckled upon noticing your efforts, you were the cutest little thing and he wanted to ruin you. His big hand engulfed your wrists and trapped them above your head, ceasing all your movements. "You wanna fight me baby?" he asked, tongue coming out to lick your tears while with his free hand he guided his dick inside of your pussy. You gasped and moaned loudly upon feeling the intrusion, he was so big, no matter how many times he'd taken you like this, you just couldn't get used to the painful stretch.

"fuck baby" he groaned and started thrusting into your fuck hole in a frenzy, making it a point to drill his dick deep into your core. You tried to supress your noises but it didn't last long. Sunghoon digging his pointy teeth into your neck was enough for you to start letting your sobs out. You knew jake could hear you, the dorm had really thin walls and that's why you and sunghoon only had sex in the dorm when no one else was around. "Bet he's fisting his dick to your cute little moans baby, getting himself off to us having sex" sunghoon panted on your face, grinding his hips deeper into yours. He cursed upon feeling how tight you clenched around his length at his filthy words. He loved how responsive you were. Like a doll for him to fuck and bend however he wants.

"Now he knows how cute you are for me" He moaned into your mouth "bet he's fantasizing about your cute little cunt right now-ah fuck-wishing he was the one buried in your wet heat instead of me, isn't that what you wanted?"

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #sim jake smut #sunghoon x you #enhypen jake smut #enhypen sunghoon smut

[dj-spiderman]

Request: Hey! So Miguel is my new obsession and I would just love to request this: So Miguel x male reader where the male reader reminds miguel of his daughter so he's overprotective and take son a fatherly role. I was thinking either that the reader gets hurt and Miguel accidentally calls him Gabriella so angst, or it's just a second chance for Miguel to be a father for a kid that needs it

ARAÑITO

- Miguel O’Hara & Child!reader

- Genre: Platonic fluff

- Synopsis: Jessica and Miguel decide to take you back to HQ for recovery, but with the slow process, Miguel grows a bit too attached to allow for you to leave his sight. Talk about fatherly instincts.

- A/N: Reader can be depicted as any age, though is written to be relatively in his teenage years. The Spanish used is from google translate, my apologies for any mistakes! If any Spanish users would like to correct anything, please do!

Jessica was the one to find you. Up against a vulture far from your own. Grotesque teeth exposed by an uncanny snarl. A thick substance, that could possibly be identified as saliva, dripping down onto his face as he was pinned beneath heavy talons.

Hushed and rapid wheezes and curses slipping past busted lips. The taste of metal heavy on your tongue as you grasp onto the heavy ankle, desperately trying to remove it from your collapsing chest. Weak pleas being spat, no clue as to whether they were aloud or echoing throughout your thoughts.

Vision spotting and a sense of doom filling your gut, your body gave out and you lied limp. So close to death that you simply accepted it.. until…

A large blur of blue and red tackled the man off of yourself. Leaving you to jolt up wheezing and coughing. Tears welling up in your eyes as the pregnant woman soothed you. “Sh, sh, shh.. we’ve got you now. Gonna be alright.”

Miguel works hard to take down the vulture, pinning him down with large claws and an open jaw. A similar state as to what the creature had you into before, only less patience as he locks his jaw down in a venomous bite.

Of course, by the time he’s finished, you’re unconscious after having the adrenaline wear off. Slack body held in Jessica’s motherly hold as she gives a knowing look towards the larger man.

“You can’t be serious,” he groans, walking past her and opening a portal.

“He’s injured Miguel! We can’t just leave him here.” She argues in turn, scolding the man. “He’s just a kid..”

The man pauses, slouched over and running hands through his hair as he groans. “Fine, but only for recovery.” He mutters, to which Jessica happily carries your unconscious form through the portal.

════════════════

The moment you wake up, you’re disoriented and blinded by bright lights. It’s all overstimulating; the lights, the constant beeping, and the static like touch all over your body.

It takes a moment to gather your surroundings, whining softly as you anxiously look around. Shaky hands lift up to try and remove the nasal cannula, only to be stopped by a much larger and warmer hand.

“I don’t suggest removing that, it’s helping you breathe.” You don’t know who this man is, but his words are gentle and you simply relax back and leave the tube alone, it’s better that way. “You fractured a few ribs in your fight, bruised a lung, but nothing aggressively serious.” The stranger huffs, seemingly checking the bandages that wrapped around your torso.

“W-who…” Your throat is sore and dry, it hurts to speak with the conditions. Your words puffed out with a wheeze and wince.

“Miguel O’Hara, head of the spider-society.” The stranger introduces himself, sitting back with a grunt. “You’re only being kept here because of your injuries. As soon as you’re healed, you’re gone.”

Such manners he had, you thought with a small glare. You didn’t need someone to take care of you, let alone someone who hated you from the start.

This was already the worst thing you’ve ever dealt with.

════════════════

It had been a couple days now, your recovery going slow as you remained bed rested with little movement. Today was Jessica’s day to check on you, but rather the warm woman, you were met with two younger men.

“So you’re the mystery spider!” The smaller of the two cheers, eagerly rushing up to you. “Miguel refuses to let anyone see you!” His energy big, like that of a puppy’s.

The taller, more punk-themed man stepped forwards, tinkering around with some of the many machines. “‘Course, we’re not ‘onna listen to that old bloke.” He mumbles, finally making his way over. “‘m Hobie, Hobie Brown.”

You only watch, eyes drifting over to the former man. “Pavitr Prabhakar!” He cheerfully informs, poking around at your IV’s and breathing support.

Eventually the nimble fingers cause your IV to slip out, causing a wince of pain from yourself. And as scary as it was, Miguel himself appears in the doorway. A nasty scowl on his face as he glares down to the younger men. “Pavitr, Hobie, our.” He practically snarls.

For someone without a spider-sense, he was scarily good at sensing when something was wrong. Perhaps his AI, you thought, glancing towards his watch as though it’s where she was kept.

With the two strangers gone, it’s just you and Miguel. He’s pacing, pinching the bridge of his nose as he goes on about something. “¡Le dije a Jessica, le dije que no los dejara acercarse a ti! ahora estas herido..”

You’re not quite sure what he’s on about, but he seems upset with himself. He spares an apologetic glance your way, walking over and gently caressing the skin from which your IV was pulled.

“This is going to sting, arañita.” He coos in a tone you’ve never heard before, holding down on your arm as he slips the IV back in. Hushing and coddling you as you whine in pain. The flinch you give only causes more pain from your ribs. Tears welling up as a bodily reaction to the pain. “I know, I know.. hurts, doesn’t it, arañito?”

You’ve never seen this side to him. It almost feels like trap. Luring you into a false sense of trust only to tear you apart..

Your small cries cause him to hold you close against his chest, whispering about how brave you were. It felt fatherly, almost. Something bitterly familiar. You never did have a good relationship with your own father.. maybe this was a second chance?

════════════════

Days turned into weeks. Your recovery a slow process, but you were improving. You were allowed to walk within the medical room, though Miguel refused to let you leave his sight. You were only allowed to explore alongside him, told you that he had to “keep you safe”.

You usually obeyed his wishes, but the boredom was just so aggravating.. it wasn’t like he would know either way. So, you left the room, stumbling along halls and bridges in search for something fun to do.

You near scream, as though you could in your condition, as a masked horse mindlessly knocks you to the ground. The cowboy atop seemingly panicked as he begins anxiously apologizing, but it’s not you he’s speaking to.

An all too familiar shadow peers over your small, ‘fragile’ form. Above you, Miguel stands with a menacing glare. He does not at all seem happy about the incident, or your little ‘escape’.

“Get that damn horse under control, cabron.” He practically snarls, immediately pulling you into the comfort of his large arms. It’s no surprise when he begins coddling you and checking for injury. He was always this overprotective of you.

“Are you okay, arañito? He didn’t hurt you did he? Why are you out of your room..? Were you hungry? Cold? Lonely even?” He continues to question you, holding you to his chest. “You know you can just call for papa, I’ll be there as soon as you need me.”

That was another thing, Miguel had taken it upon himself to have you call him papa. He was constantly spoiling you or doting on you. It was.. strange.

You hadn’t even noticed when the man began dragging you back to your bedroom, scolding you softly. “You know better than to leave, you could get hurt.. scared me so bad arañita…” he’s lying you in your bed, tucking you in and taking a seat on the edge.

“You know I’m just trying to protect you… trying to be a good father.” He seems so genuine, it makes you feel guilty.

“Lo lamento, papa…” He seems genuinely shocked to hear you speak, let alone in Spanish. Supposed you had picked up on a few words within your stay.

A small smile plays at his lips, glancing your way as he speaks. “It’s alright arañita, I know you didn’t mean to scare me..” he reaches over, gently stroking your hair back. “Just promise me you won’t leave me… please don’t leave me..” he seems to be upset with the idea, and so you agree to his terms.

Nodding softly as you take hold of his large hand, gently playing with the rough, yet warm, flesh. “Sí.. won’t leave… never..”

And it was true. You didn’t have plans to leave, not when he was such a good father. Not when he gave you reason to trust him. He offered you safety and love, and in turn, you’d be his arañito.

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel ohara x male reader #spiderverse x male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderverse #astv #miguel o’hara / male child reader

[bloodandoranges]

Ache.

Karlach x femTav/Reader / 18+/ Oral / Karlach loves to service

Tav felt her aching muscles relax as she settled into the warm river by their camp, a relaxed sigh escaping her. Despite it being so close to camp? bathing was a rarity; they were out adventuring and fighting so often that stopping to bathe really was a treat.

Of course, her having the time to bathe meant her companions did, too. She was roused from her thoughts at the sound of water sloshing about, quickly turning to face whoever decided now was a good time to take a bath, eyes widening at the sight of Karlach - as nude as the day she was born.

“Hey, soldier. Mind?” Karlach said cooly, already moving into the water, letting out a soft groan of delight.

“…Not at all.” Tav mumbled, face a little flush as she turned away. “…You know, I don’t mind if you stare. Keeps my ego nice and big,” Karlach laughed loudly, focused on cleaning the blood from her face and hair.

There was silence, for a moment, the two women staring one another down.

Tav gave a wheeze, embarrassed, a little ashamed at being caught staring. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I was staring too.” Karlach laughed loudly - gods, her laugh was so beautiful. Wait, what?

She was moving closer now too, but kept her distance…waiting to make sure she was reading things right. They /were/ both hot-headed fools.

Karlach was closing in a little now, gaze soft as she peered down at their merry little gangs fearless leader. Clawed hands reached for her face, and Tav took a sharp breath as Karlach gently wiped away some blood and dirt. “Sorry. It was bothering me.” She grinned, toothy and gorgeous and by the gods- she was delicious.

“You are such a tease.” Tav sighed out playfully as Karlach gave a loud laugh, squeezing her cheeks softly as she leaned in. “Yeah, yeah…I’m just the worst,” she sighed, forehead pressed against hers now as she took a breath. They stared at each other for a long, long moment… Tav wasn’t even sure who moved first, gasping as their lips locked together.

Her fingers quickly found their way into Karlachs thick, rowdy hair, giving a soft tug when a tongue slipped by her lips. Karlach groaned, body heating up quickly as she desperately grasped at her, lifting her legs around her waist. Shit.

“Karlach, I- gods,” Tav managed to whimper against her lips. She could already feel herself getting slick with desire…well, despite the water. Speaking of water - Karlach was hoisting her out of it, gently laying her back on the dirt… she hoped Tav didn’t mind getting a little muddy, because she wasn’t sure she’d make it to her tent.

Tav gave a bit of a grunt as she was laid back against the ground…it was uncomfortable, but the desire heating her body and flooding her senses was strong on her mind at current.

Karlach was much the same, blue flames flickering in her chest, her eyes…shit. She gave a breathless whine, adjusting to lift Tav’s legs over her shoulders, said woman staring up at her with wide eyes. Fuck.

“…Is this okay? Tell me if I’m getting ahead of myself.” Karlach breathed…clearly, it was taking all of her strength to hold back. “Gods, Karlach, I’ve been waiting for this since we picked you up.” Tav groaned out, and Karlach gave a booming laugh, not needing to be told twice.

She kissed over soft thighs, nuzzling and kissing over the skin, a groan escaping her as she breathed her in. She took her time to lavish her thighs in kisses and soft nips, excited by the sight of Tav squirming below her…at her mercy.

Was she really trying to tease her? Now!? Tav gave a desperate whine, hips bucking into the air slightly. “Sorry, baby…” Karlach cooed out an apology, and moment later, her tongue was sliding through soft, wet folds, a low groan escaping the tiefling.

“Shit!” Tav gasped in surprised, having expected Karlach to carry on the torture for far longer. Her head flew back, hand fumbling to cover her mouth…lest their companions hear.

Karlach lapped at her heat greedily; hands squeezing plump thighs wrapped around her head, gaze never leaving Tavs. She was clearly enjoying this just as much…maybe even more.

“Karlach, Gods-“ Tav whimpered, muffled by her hand as she arched into her touch, just as Karlach gave her clit a hard suck, tongue rolling over the sensitive bud. She was merciless, hardly pulling away to breath as she eagerly drank her in, Tav gasping and crying out below her.

“Shit, shit, shit, Karlach, I-“ she couldn’t even finish, because Karlach had done some wondrous manoeuvre with her tongue, and her orgasm was crashing down, causing her to cry out. Karlach held her in place, not daring to pull away until she was sure she was spent.

When she did tug away, she panted hard, gently untangling strong legs from around her shoulders, giving a booming laugh. “…How’d I do?” She cooed…her chin was dripping. Tav shuddered at the lewd sight - and the sweetness of her question.

“Amazing…as always.”

Tav was about to move to touch Karlach, but the other woman gently grabbed her hands, shaking her head. “Maybe later, hm? I just want to hold you…” she cooed, quick to curl herself around her body, nestling her face into the crook of her neck.

“Mmhm…okay. For now.” Tav cooed, kissing softly at her forehead.

#baldurs gate tav #bg3 #karlach #karlach x tav #karlach x reader #karlach cliffgate #fic

[thesassypadawan]

Submit (Burnt Darth Vader x FemPetReader)

Summary: Never. You will never submit to your new master, your lord. At least that’s what you thought. After hours of torture and some persuasive thoughts, you begin to see things in a different light. Perhaps submitting isn’t all that bad. (Somewhat origin story of Pet Reader.)

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Choking, Dom Daddy Darth, Somewhat Subby Pet…and Vader’s big hands.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

- “Submit to me…become my perfect pet.”

- “Never!” Feet scrabble for purchase as you rise off the floor. Hands snapping to your neck, desperately clawing at an invisible hand.

- Your new master, your lord strolls towards you. Clad all in black, his face hidden by a full mask. His rhythmic breathing pounding in your ears, along with the sound of your frantically beating heart. “Foolish little girl; you are in no position to defy me.”

- You should be horrified, absolutely terrified of him…this nightmare of a man. Yet your nipples pebble beneath your clothes and a dampness begins to grow between your legs. Body completely betraying you, despite your current predicament.

- “I can easily make or break you,” he spoke coldly, amber lenses staring emotionlessly into your eyes. “Give you unimaginable pleasure or pain.”

- Images and thoughts swirl around your brain, ones that you surely know that cannot be yours…

- A large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to take your breath away. All the while he, ‘your lord’, rails you from behind. Splitting you open, stretching you so achingly good. His cool leather fingers tweaking at your nipples, before dipping into your folds. Pinching and rolling your clit. Until it all becomes too much, and he somehow whispers into your ear the simple order to… “Cum.”

- Snapping back to reality, you find yourself on the ground. Gasping, wheezing; greedily inhaling as much air as you possibly can. Mind confused, vision blurry. The feeling as if you were drowning overwhelming your senses. A soreness and emptiness between your legs

- His voice rang out across the bed chamber, low and even. “Your thoughts were very loud. Very…interesting.”

- Slowly you regain control, head tilting slightly upwards. Eyes struggling to focus as you try to steady and center yourself. “W-What do you mean by interesting?”

- Taking another step forward, he lets out a mechanical chuckle. “It would seem that you do desire to belong to me. That you wish for me to use and abuse you however I see fit. That you will more than happily take everything that is given to you.”

- Reaching you, Vader squats down closer to your level. Gloved hand gripping your chin, surprisingly gently. Thumb swiping across your bottom lip, the texture sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Open.”

- Perhaps it was oxygen deprivation or the hours of torture you had already sustained. Nonetheless you still willingly obey, allowing him to slip his digit inside your mouth. Whimpering as you suck lightly, savoring the smokey taste on your tongue.

- Pulling away, eliciting a small whine from you. He stands back up; towering over you in his full, menacing glory. Hand held out to you, the black leather still shining with your saliva. “I can give you what your body so craves. What it truly yearns. All you have to do is…submit to me.”

- Swallowing hard, you bit your lip. You realize how desperate you are for more of his touch…to feel totally helpless…to be completely controlled. The answer is clear, and you slip your hand into his. “Yes, my lord; I will.”

- Tugging you effortlessly to your feet, you stumble forward into him. Smaller body presses against his larger one firmly. His hand begins to wrap around your neck, and you can’t help but moan softly.

- “Such a perfect little pet.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen smut #anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin smut #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #darth vader #darth vader x reader #dart vader fanfiction #darth vader smut

[chronicially-parker]

me again :3

I've thought of another prompt ! spencer reid x gn!reader, as always :3 !

(idk how original it might be,,, but I thought I might as well just request it anyway)

so imagine BAU!reader running late for work and in their haste they've put on one of Spencer Reid's cardigan (maybe reader is also a cardigan wearer and didn't notice until they get to work maybe it takes them a second to remember/realize)

but the BAU notice (especially Reid) (that man is a blushing mess seeing his SO in *HIS* cardigan in front of the *BAU* /hj /lh) (bc the cardigan is a larger size than what reader would wear,, but it is Reid's size)

and so this is how the BAU realized they are dating :3

Thank you for reading and considering my ask !

yes yes yes!!! this is AMAZING!! i had so much fun writing this!! ♡

authors note: hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for far too long, so sorry if it isnt too good! i tried my best ❤️

you woke up to a call from your lovely boyfriend, spencer reid.

"hey baby, are you on your way to work yet?" spencer whispered softly through your phone

you had picked up a call from your boyfriend of 2 years at what you thought was early in the morning but had turned out to be nearly the time you were expected to arrive to work at the bau

"what-? ah shit!" you gasp, coming to the realisation that you had somehow slept through your alarms

"i'll take that as a no then," he chuckles "I'll see you soon, love you!"

"love you too!" you yell into the phone as you jump out of bed, sprinting to your closet grabbing the first things you see

"morning! sorry im late hotch!" you pant as you rush through the doors of the BAU to everyone staring at you, their eyes fixated on your current attire.

"ok i get im like really late but whats up with the staring guys?" you wheeze through breaths in a desperate attempt to regain your energy from running through the entire bau building

"loving the cardigan pretty girl" morgan snickers

thats when you noticed it, the purple cardigan you had draped over your shoulders in your desperate attempt to get out the door this morning

"oh my gosh! r/n is that spencers cardigan!!" your lovely friend penelope squealed, drawing the attention of just about everyone in a 50 ft radius

"everything ok?" spencer asks, coffee in hand after hearing penelopes excited squeals

"anything you want to tell us reid?" emily chuckles, eyeing the poor boy

"my girlfriends wearing my cardigan?"

THIS SPENCER YESYESYES

#autistic!reader #neurodivergent #adhd writer #autistic writer #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fluff #adhd #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid scenario

[cece693]

Sorry (Michael Myers x Male! Reader)

I couldn't help myself. Something about the Halloween franchise just appeals to me. So I wrote another fanfic about the bogeyman himself. It's not my best work but I just wanted to post something quick for you guys. Question: should I write more mature scenes?

Summary: You knew Michael would never intentionally hurt you, but accidents do happen. And how can you stay mad at your boyfriend after he tries to make it up to you?

You knew Michael would never intentionally hurt you, but accidents do happen, and today was one of those times when Michael let his anger out on you. After another failed attempt at bringing back Laurie for a much-needed family reunion, Michael was in a bad mood. You sensed it immediately: his mask still on, knife gripped tightly in his large hand, angry little huffs escaping his lips. You made sure to stay out of his way. Yes, you were his boyfriend, and he loved you (even if he never explicitly said it), but you knew his boundaries. Times like these only reminded you of how lucky you were to have caught the interest of said killer. Standing up from the couch, you slowly made your way towards his, arms in front of you to make Michael see you meant no harm.

"Mikey." you softly whispered, using his nickname to try and soothe some of his anger. "Why don't we—" but before you could finish, your boyfriend suddenly flung you to the left, causing you to hit the wall. Pain surged through your body, and you gasped as the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"Michael." you wheezed, yet your boyfriend seemed relentless. Stomping towards your fallen form, he picked you up by the neck, his hands closing in with an iron grip, choking the life out of you. Panic set in as you scratched desperately at his hands, your vision blurring.

You looked into your boyfriend's eyes, desperately searching for any hint of recognition or humanity. Yet, at that moment, his gaze held nothing but an abyss of emptiness. The final moments of awareness slipped away as the world around you faded into darkness, suspending you in a nightmarish void.

When M/N's body stopped moving, Michael suddenly snapped back to his senses. His eyes widened with terror as he gazed at your unconscious form sprawled on the ground. The realization of what he had just done hit him like a tidal wave, and he recoiled in horror.

He fell to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your still form as if to assure himself that you were still there. You were thankfully still breathing, but Michael couldn't believe he'd unleashed his anger on you of all people. Easily picking you up, Michael set you gingerly on the sofa and began to grab all the materials needed for when you awakened.

You didn't know how much time had passed since you fell unconscious, but the first thing you did notice was that you were now on the couch. Pain throbbed at the back of your head, and as you instinctively reached to touch the area, a hand shot out and stopped you.

Michael.

He was on the floor, on both knees, with his mask gone. "Mikey," you uttered softly, your voice trembling with emotion. As you sat up, your hands moved hesitantly towards his face. With gentle fingers, you brushed aside the shaggy strands of blonde hair that obscured your boyfriend's features, revealing those eyes you loved so deeply.

In the depths of his gaze, you saw a kaleidoscope of emotions—pain, regret, and a flicker of hope amidst the darkness.

"sorry."

Your eyes widened upon hearing Michael's voice. Broken, hoarse, and quiet yet they carried a weight that reverberated through the room. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you closed the remaining distance between you and Michael.

#x male reader #male reader #halloween 1978 #hallloween #michael myers x male reader #michael myers #laurie strode #slasher community #slasher fandom #slasher movies

[prettyboypistol]

hi there!! I'm new here, and I really like your writing lol. There's not a whole male reader stuff in the tf2 fandom from what I've seen, like, at all, and you're writing is just- skandnsns *so* good-

Anyways, uh, I'm sorry if you're not taking requests right now, I only just found your blog about a month ago, but I wanted to send in smt if that's okay??

Anyways, I was wonderin' if you could write something with the mercs, with a reader who has a panic attack the first time they respawn?

Like, maybe their a recent recruit, and they somehow haven't died on the battlefield yet?? The feeling of dying is probably horrible, that moment of not being able to breath, before nothing, even after respawning, so maybe after the match they skink off by themselves, not even noticing how off their acting as they leave. Platonic or romantic is fine lol. Sorry if I worded this weird, or it's too long, I've never really requested smt before

Anyways, love your writing dude!!

First Respawn || TF2 Mercs x M!Reader

can be read as platonic or romantic

Context: You and another merc were actually doing pretty well together- since you were assigned to shadow the more experienced people to really figure out how to fight and travel efficiently. Both of you were caught off guard by an enemy Heavy, who killed you both.

Scout

Jeremy respawned with a fit of curses and a stretching routine, yammering on about how Heavys shouldn't be allowed to sneak around. Then, he looked over to you. You were frantically touching over your chest and legs, desperately searching for the wounds you just felt agonizingly rip you from life. Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek before he crouched down to where you were.

"Hey man, 's'all good. That's respawn for you! You can never die here!" Scout explained lightheartedly.

"I- I felt-" A wrapped finger pressed against your lips, followed by a look of understanding and underlying discomfort.

"Shh, I know. I can't stand it either, but you don't really have a choice. You either just don't die or you bite your tongue and power through, kay? If the bosslady sees us chit-chattin', we'll both be in trouble!" Jeremy pulled you to stand up and shoved your weapon into your arms. "We can talk about it later, I'm really sorry pal."

Soldier

You and Jane were quickly executed and brought back to spawn. For Soldier, it was just another death. It's not like it meant anything! He quickly gathered his weapon and charged out, only to return a few seconds later.

"ON YOUR FEET, PRIVATE! UNLESS THOSE LEGS ARE BROKEN, OUR COUNTRY EXPECTS US TO FIGHT!" He tried to encourage you.

"I just died!" You wheeze out, more shocked than anything. "I'm dead! I got killed! I-"

Soldier yanked you to your feet and dragged you out to the battle field again, much to your scrambled protests.

"TEUFORT IS ALL ABOUT DYING AND COMING BACK! WE CAN LIVE FOREVER HERE!"

From somewhere you can't quite make out, you hear your Medic start to shout: "We are not living forever! Just unkillable!"

Pyro

Pyro had never seen a reaction like that before for respawn. They had seen anger, frustration- well, mostly anger. They watched carefully as tears streamed down your eyes as you sunk to the ground. You seemed... shell shocked? It was hard to really see through the pink clouds and mishearing your sobs as baby's laughter, but Pyro could definitely tell that something was up.

They placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, then pat your head softly with a humming of an upbeat tune. You didn't know the Pyro well, but from what you had heard from Engie and Medic, this was a definite attempt to comfort you. With one last sniffle, Pyro pointed to the doors with an excited cheer. You knew you had a job to do and not enough time in the day to do it in.

Pyro kept you close and looked around a lot more once out on the field as they hid you from most people's sight.

Demoman

As much as you and Tavish were friends off the clock, he really could be too daft. You gasped as you respawned, coughing violently. Tavish turned to you with a confused expression, but realized immediately that- oh shit, that was your first respawn. Demoman pulled you close and cradled you tight with a murmuring for you to follow his deep breaths.

"Right-o, breeeeathe. In... Out... Good job, just deep breaths." Tavish sighed quietly as he led you out of the spawn room and to a more private location. "That's respawn. You can't die here- but it's a hell of a thing to get used to it is. Sit back and hide while you calm down. If anyone notices a dip in my killstreak, I'd get a paycut."

As asshole-ish as it was for him to leave you, you really understood. He had a mother to take care of, after all. At least he talked to you after in detail about the functions along with Engineer and Medic.

Heavy

Heavy immediately noticed the nervous shakes that wracked through your body as life seemed to be thrust back into your arms just as quickly as it was torn away. Mikhail sighed and patted your back- a little too roughly for your liking, but the height and power difference was most likely to blame for that.

"It is... not easy to start- jarring? Yes, jarring at start." Mikhail sympathizes. "Deep breathing, we won't let it happen again." He promised as he nudged Sasha towards you. All you could offer was a weak smile as tears forced themselves down your cheeks.

Heavy felt a pang of guilt for needing to go right back to work, especially when his charge was so broken up about literally dying (it was reasonable, after all.), but orders were orders and the mouths of his family couldn't be fed by wasting time. He kept you close as he refused to keep you out of his sight at all- protecting you from any further harm.

Engineer

"Dag-nabbit! Those big guys should- oh." Dell watched as you started to hyperventilate and quickly rushed you to the intel room for a bit more privacy.

"Here, we can set up a few sentries here. Hide under the desk while I'm gone, okay? I'll be right back son." Was all you really could hear as you scrambled over to the desk with shakes and sobs deafening you to the outside world. It felt like hours, but finally a warm presence enveloped you. Dell stroked your hair and shushed you softly as you worked through the thrill of revival.

"I bet that was a scare, huh? Don't you worry. Me and Medic worked extra hard on these machines. You're gonna be safe in my hands, son. Don't you worry one lil' bit."

Spy

He rolled his eyes as you tried to feel for the now-healed bullet wounds, but deep down, he knew that he did the exact same thing on his first respawn. Half heartedly, he offered you a cigarette.

"It takes your mind off it- are you allergic to cannabis?"

How the hell did he manage to smuggle marijuana into a military establishment?! Wasn't this one of the most secure bases of Mann. Co?! Nevertheless, in moreso an act of desperation rather than actual desire to smoke, you deeply inhaled the smoke... Only to cough so loud and violently that you accidentally made yourself throw up.

Your superior was not impressed at the sight.

"I'm never letting you smoke my cigarettes again."

Medic

Ludwig was just how you expected him to be as you crumpled to your knees. He bragged about his amazing invention in an attempt to comfort you. A gloved hand brushed over your chest at where the bullets were with a manic smile.

"See! No holes! Quite the genius invention, yes?" He hummed happily. "Now, I know the adrenaline is still in your veins from well- dying- but that is more of a boost for when you get back out on the field!"

"Boost?! Back Out?! Hell no!" You protested as you scrambled away from Ludwig. "I fucking died!"

He clicked his tongue with an unamused expression. "Only temporarily- I'd argue not at all! Your heart barely stopped!"

You decided to keep your emotions and arguments to yourself.

Sniper

"How the hell did the big guy even get into my nest? Probably broke the ladder climbin'- you alright?"

You clearly weren't.

"Awe shit, yeah. Probably your first time kickin' the bucket." He muttered, mostly to himself as he crouched down to speak to you at eye level.

"Don't be too frazzled, chickadee. It's not the Heavy's you'll be worrying about mostly when you stick with me. At least the other Spy is efficient about the backstabs. I barely even feel 'em half the time."

You knew he was trying to be comforting, but it really just... didn't work too well.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #fanfiction #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 headcanons #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 x m!reader #prettyboy pistol

[pandoraslxna]

❄️ Kinkmas — 10. Breath play ❄️

Spider x female omatikaya reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: dry humping, making out, edging, breath play / breath holding, Switch!Spider

You still remember the first time you noticed Spider holding his breath, after a rather big argument with Lo‘ak.

When he gets upset, or overwhelmed, or fucks up spectacularly, he holds his breath. Not always for long, and never in a way that suggests he knows he’s doing it, but after he resumes breathing he always seems more... settled. Calm, even.

And you notice it happening more after that.

After the two of you had started messing around with each other, you noticed him doing it in bed as well -or in the labs, your marui, at the river (or, in one particularly memorable occasion, in the Sullys family tent while Lo‘ak was passed out drunk and everyone else was sound asleep).

Spider would close his eyes and suck in a breath and hold it right before he comes, and it worked flawlessly to calm himself down. It’s cute, in a slightly concerning way, and it’s so easy to use this to your advantage.

Like right now.

Spider’s head is spinning a little with the need for air, but you just lick into his mouth, suck on his tongue, squirming around in his lap a little, like you have all the time in the world.

His mask is secured in your hand, shoved up just above his forehead so that you can pull it down in time for him to take a breath and fill his lungs with much needed air. Which is now.

Spider gasps, once the mask sits back in place, and when you wriggle like that on top of his still covered but painfully hard cock, his hands come down to grip your hips and hold you in place.

"Jesus, give me a minute", he pants, his tongue swiping over kiss swollen lips.

The grin you give him is wicked, your own mouth shiny and wet with spit. "What, are you close already?", you giggle, your tail curling in amusement and Spider‘s cheeks taint themselves pink. Fuck yes, he is, but the realization that this has been going on for almost an hour now and both of you are still fully clothed makes him narrow his eyes at you in confusion.

He isn’t quite sure what game you’re playing today, considering that this is not exactly conducive to getting him inside you anytime soon, but he’s learned to just play along with you to get what he wanted. Even if that meant suffering and testing his own patience for a bit. Or his stamina.

Your hands then reach out for his mask and Spider barely has a second to suck in a sharp breath before you slide his mask off and pull him into a kiss again.

Kissing you is always different, but tonight it feels like you aim to drive Spider out of his mind.

You press a kiss at the corner of his mouth, one more properly on-center. Spider parts his lips, greedy and desperate, but you just ignore him, kisses his bottom lip and bites it softly. Bites it again, harder this time, raking with your canine until he can feel it swelling up a bit.

His lungs slowly start to burn and his cock throbs and you grind yourself against it, but then you pull back and suddenly the mask sits back on his face.

Spider hears someone breathing raggedly, and distantly realizes it’s himself.

"Fuck", he wheezes and clutches his chest in a way that seems a little overdramatic, yet you can’t help but smile at him. But then his hands wander back down, reach out to grab your hips and rock you back and forth on his cock. Like this, you could feel the prominent outline of his cock under his loincloth, could feel it throb and twitch, and Spider groans and let’s his head fall back. "I‘m so hard, baby, c‘mon", he whines, "shit, just let me… I want to fuck you so bad, oh my god, this is torture!"

Spider‘s half a second away from just shoving his hand down your loincloth, rip the damn thing in two, flip you over and fuck you so hard your pussy will be molded into the shape of his cock.

But you just grin at him toothily. And there goes his mask again.

Eywa, you kiss him nowhere near chastely this time, shoving your tongue into his mouth like he does when he’s fucking your mouth with his cock. He can feel his lips buzzing a little, and there’s spit smeared down his chin. Your mouth is messy and clever and you’re making these little noises into his mouth and Spider‘s going kind of dizzy with how good it is, how much he just wants to stay there forever and how much he needs to fucking breathe.

But you won’t let up— you pull away just once, to watch him with your eyes gone arousal-dark, and then press back in close, sucking sharply on his lower lip and riding his clothed cock like there’s no tomorrow. Below you, Spider moans, desperate and painfully close.

He lets his head thunk back against the wall just as you slide the mask back on. His mouth’s almost numb from kissing. He hasn’t done this much kissing since he was fourteen and had his first girlfriend, and he definitely hasn’t ever been kissed like you kissed.

Your pussy is still pressing down on his cock, the fabric of both loincloths soaked in arousal and pre-cum, and he’s so hard right now that the layers of clothing between you feel like nothing, like if he could just thrust up against you a few more times he might actually come in his pants.

His breathing turns rapid again, chest heaving in quick pants as he works himself up.

"Fucking– shit, I‘m gonna–” Spider swears, thrusting up against you, leaking pre-cum everywhere, tightening his hands on your hips to the point there might be bruises tomorrow.

What snaps him out of his lustful haze, is the feeling of your hand attempting the lift the edge of his mask again. You look all kinds of pleased with yourself as Spiders whines, "I- I can’t, seriously. I need to come so bad it feels like I might explode any minute, but I can’t if you–"

"Just one more time", you smirk, grinding yourself against his cock to get your ping across and Spider hisses in a mix of pain and pleasure. "One more time and then you can do whatever you want with me, monkey boy."

"Fuck, okay, okay."

Inhale, exhale. And then there’s a hiss of air escaping his mask as you slowly lift it, before it’s gone again and your lips press against his own.

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #spider x reader #spider x y/n #Spider x female Reader #spider soccoro x reader #Avatar #atwow #avatar spider #avatar spider x reader #avatar 2 #atwow spider #avatar the way of water

[corrodedhawkins]

Desperate

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) language, piss kink (holding and slight wetting), sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, safe words (stoplight system), crying, teasing, begging, oral (m!receiving), praise, female masturbation, cum play (facial and swallowing)

“Here you go baby, drink up”, you smile sweetly, bending over the arm of the couch to peck Eddie on the cheek as he takes the bottle of water from your outstretched hand.

“Thanks”, he mumbles, unscrewing the cap before taking a few sips, wincing when he feels his bladder throb.

You flop down on the couch next to him, biting back a laugh when the movement jostles him, a quiet groan escaping.

“What do you wanna do? Watch a movie, maybe read?”, you ask, picking up the remote.

“Would love to piss”, Eddie grumbles, shifting in his seat.

Barking out a laugh, you press play on one of your guilty pleasure reality shows, knowing he won’t be paying attention anyway. “Hey, you asked for this.”

And he had, sitting you down to discuss exploring this kink with you, nervous but excited. He had explained it wasn’t necessarily the piss that turned him on, but rather the control you’d have over him.

You’d heard every detail of him jacking off over the past few months, thinking about how desperate he would be, completely at your mercy as he squirmed and begged.

It wasn’t anything you’d ever given much thought to until Eddie brought it up, and now you couldn’t stop thinking about it. There were more than a few times this week where Eddie had excused himself to use the bathroom that you found yourself throbbing between your legs, thinking about what you had planned.

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, nails digging into his jean-covered thigh. Two episodes in and he has no idea what’s happening, only able to focus on the insistent ache of his bladder.

It’s so full, pressing up against the waistband of his jeans painfully. He squirms, trying to find a position that gives him a little relief with no luck. Your hand settles on his thigh, the silent stop fidgeting understood and he stills.

“Can I go now?”, he tries.

“Nope”, you answer, eyes never leaving the tv.

He’s almost able to forget about his predicament and relax until you tap him on the shoulder with the half-empty water bottle during the next episode.

“Finish it”, you order.

Sighing, he downs the rest of the water, a pitiful whine escaping him as he crushes the empty plastic in his fist.

“You doin’ okay? What’s your color, baby?” As much as you’re enjoying torturing him, you need to make sure he’s still alright with this.

“I’m-yeah. I’m green”, he replies, sucking in a sharp breath. “Just hurts.” He motions to the waistband of his jeans, obviously cutting into him uncomfortably.

“You poor thing”, you croon. Eddie chuckles softly, amused by your overdone sympathy. “Why don’t you go change into some sweats, relieve some of the pressure?”

“Don’t know if I can”, he groans, his fingernails digging into the arm of the couch. “I feel like if I get up I’ll piss myself.”

“Do you want my help?”, you offer.

He nods, biting his lip as he scoots forward to the edge of the couch. He rises to his feet slowly, a desperate whine leaving him as his eyes widen in panic. The movement causes him to lose control of his tightly clamped muscles for a split second, allowing a spurt of piss to escape and soak the front of his jeans.

Eddie whimpers, hand shooting down to take hold of his dick, squeezing himself through the wet denim. His eyes are wide and glassy, unshed tears brimming at his lash line.

“Aw”, you coo. “What’s wrong baby? Having trouble holding it?”

Chest heaving, Eddie struggles to form words, overwhelmed by the humiliation and the way his cock is hardening in his jeans as a result.

“Hey”, you move to stand in front of him, hand cupping his cheek. “Color?”

“Fuck”, Eddie wheezes. “Yellow. I just, I really don’t want to piss myself in our living room, and I’m about to.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me. C’mon.” Grabbing his hand, you gently but quickly lead him down the hall into the bathroom, helping him step into the tub.

“Thank you”, Eddie exhales once he’s standing safely near the drain. “I’m green.”

Smiling, you reach up to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, hand eventually settling on his cheek. “You’re being so good for me, baby. Checking in without me even having to ask. Such a good boy.”

Eddie hums, nuzzling into your hand resting against his cheek. He shifts from foot to foot, obviously still desperate. “Can I go now?”

“No, baby. Not yet.” Making quick work of his button and zipper, you get his jeans and boxers down, helping him step out of them. As soon as they’re off, you lean in to lick over the head of his cock.

“Oh fuck, don’t”, Eddie gasps. “I can’t-”

Humming disapprovingly, you wrap your hand around his length, stroking for a moment until he’s fully hard. “Will you try for me, sweet boy?” You nose at the soft skin of his balls, sucking one into your mouth as his hips jolt forward.

“Ah, ‘kay. Okay. I’ll try”, he pants, head tipping back to rest against the cool tile.

Your tongue laps at the head once again, swirling around before the tip dips into his slit.

“Oh come on”, Eddie moans. “Now that’s just mean.”

Biting back a smirk, you tap the head of his cock against your tongue, the tip dipping into his slit once again. “I thought you liked it when I’m a little mean?”

“S’not the point”, he groans.

You stifle a laugh into the meat of his thigh, your breath grazing over his sensitive skin. He laughs, his control slipping for a moment.

“Fuck”, he cries as a strong jet of piss escapes. He’s visibly shaking, trying his best to hold it, clenching his length in his hand to stop the stream. “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You run your hands soothingly up and down the sides of his thighs. “You’ve been so good for me, honey. You can go now.”

It takes a second for Eddie to process what you’ve just said. He aims his hard cock down towards the drain, a strangled cry leaving his lips as he finally lets go.

Watching him like this, desperate and so eager to be good for you was one thing. But now? Watching the look on his face as he finally unclenches his muscles, hearing the sounds of relief he’s making as piss pours out of him? You feel like you’re right on the edge and you haven’t even touched yourself.

Brow furrowed, his mouth hangs open, breathy moans punched out of him as his stream continues. “Oh my god”, he gasps. “Feels like m’already cumming.”

You can’t help yourself, slipping your hand into your shorts to rub frantic circles around our clit. You’re so wet that your fingertips keep slipping from where you need them, but it doesn’t matter.

Finally, Eddie’s stream tapers off, his hand curling around his erection. “I need to cum, please baby. M’so close.”

Nodding, you shuffle forward so that you’re as close as possible. “Go on. Cum for me. Right on my tongue.”

Your mouth opens wide, tongue out and waiting. It only takes him a few strokes and he’s cumming, hot and thick over your tongue, cheek and chin.

As soon as you feel his release hit your tongue you’re cumming with him, groaning as you clench and spasm.

Eddie slumps back against the tile, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He reaches for you, his hand stroking your hair as a fond smile graces his lips. “Jesus Christ”, he laughs breathlessly. “Did you-?”

“Enjoy it?”, you ask once you finish swallowing, leaning into his touch. “Not sure. We’ll have to try it again, just so I can decide.”

Tagging:

@latenightsimping @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpsess @strangermarvelss @mcplestreet @hellfirebabes @saramelaniemoon @sillypurplemurple @kody07 @hellfirecllub @digital-charlie @munsonsbelova @applepiewithbacon @thefreakofhawkins86

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #sub!eddie munson #tw: piss kink #melissa writes #tw: piss

[tervaneula]

Yuichi hadn’t expected to run into two of his best friends from Neo Edo at the Hidden City markets and he definitely didn’t expect the direction the conversation had eventually taken. 

"You're dating a ninja?!" Chizu laughs so hard her breath wheezes and Kitsune stifles a snort into her sleeve. Yuichi's cheeks flush crimson under his fur. 

"W-what's so funny about that? You're a ninja!" 

"Yes, but I'm not dating an idiot samurai," Chizu says. That makes Kitsune burst into laughter, right in Yuichi's face. 

"Oh my gosh, Chizu is right. What does that guy see in you? Is he as big of an idiot as you are? When are you gonna introduce us?!" 

Yuichi resists the urge to pull his ears over his eyes and pretend this conversation never happened when he catches a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue against green on the other side of the street. Leonardo is tall and it's not hard to spot him in a crowd, even among yokai. 

"Well uh, you're just about to meet him," he mutters, desperately wishing for the heat on his cheeks to cool down. It’s not too obvious say, to a stranger, but Leonardo most definitely isn’t one and he can't have the red-eared slider see right away how embarrassed his friends are able to make him. "And he's not an idiot!" 

Kitsune just laughs but her eyes are sparkling with curiosity. Chizu seems interested as well and Yuichi thanks his lucky stars that she's quick to calm down, he doesn't know what he would do if both of his friends were unable to behave in front of his new boyfriend. Luckily (or not) he doesn’t have time to fully spiral into a flustered panic when a voice calls out to him. 

“Yuichi!” 

He turns towards the approaching turtle and can’t help but smile at the sight of him. The answering grin on the striped face is stupidly handsome and Yuichi forgets all about fighting down the blush on his face. He’s smitten, so what? If he wasn’t already flushed he certainly would be now and Leonardo deserves to see how much he likes him, actually. Something in him settles and the rabbit is certain that despite their teasing, his friends will love Leonardo. 

—

“Your friends seem nice,” Leonardo hums on their walk back to Yuichi’s house. The slider had offered to portal him home but instead, Yuichi had asked for a walk and invited him over for a cup of tea. He wasn’t quite ready for the day to end yet. 

“Glad you think so,” he smiles, “they really liked you. Not that it was a surprise.” 

Leonardo looks a little taken aback by that but he just chuckles and leans against the wall as Yuichi fishes for his keys. He looks a bit tired and the rabbit wonders if it’s the phantom pains again. Well, nothing a big cup of his auntie’s tea won’t help soothe, he smiles softly to himself as the door clicks open and he gives a little bow to the turtle. 

“Ladies first!” he jokes, and Leonardo laughs. He ruffles Yuichi’s hair on his way past him and the rabbit sticks his tongue out at him. He might be over forty but age will never stop him from being the impulsive little shit that he has always been. Leonardo, with surprising grace, pretends not to notice and slips on the guest slippers before quickly snatching Yuichi’s bag from his shoulder and disappearing into the kitchen to unload the groceries, humming a tune Yuichi can’t place. 

"You two seem like a good match." 

Yuichi turns to look at Chizu. She's looking at Leonardo and Kitsune squabbling over the last piece of mochi, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

"What?" 

"You heard me," she chuckles, shifting her amber eyes to Yuichi. There's a softness in them that takes the rabbit off guard. 

"He's a true leader. A brilliant strategist with charisma to match. I can tell. But there's also the burden that comes with it," she lowers her voice toward the end. "He's been through hell – don't look at me like that, he didn't say much but what he did say was enough for me to connect the dots – and this is where you come in. He needs to goof around and be stupid, things that were taken from him too early. He needs to be looked at with fresh eyes, to be loved for who he is now and not for the role he was born to fulfil – and who else is better suited for that than our very own silly rabbit?" 

Yuichi belatedly realises his jaw is hanging open and he closes his mouth with a click. Chizu has always been bright, brighter than anyone else in their little found family, maybe save for Karasu-Tengu, but despite the obvious parallels between the two he was not expecting her to jump right into analysing the mutant turtle to the core on their first meeting. As dense as he may be, it doesn’t slip past him how most of the things Chizu said were very true for her all those years back. 

"And how is he good for you, in turn?" the cat's eyes glimmer as her mouth twists into a smirk. "He can lend you some of those brain cells you so very desperately need." 

Yuichi groans and punches her on the shoulder. She doesn't even flinch, brushing it off with a grin. 

Yuichi closes the door behind him slowly, staring after his boyfriend. Chizu's words echo in his mind, I'm happy for you, and his chest feels odd. Full and tight and so, so warm. 

He takes a deep breath and feels the expected burst of butterflies settle into something new, calm and gentle. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt before but somehow he knows what it means. 

He can’t wait to feel it more. 

#eyyyyy it's me the sappiest sap #here's some silly feelings #they're middle-aged and in love and that's actually so important #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #leoichi #leochi #not leosagi #samurai rabbit #usagi chronicles #future leonardo #future leo #usagi yuichi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #nqk #nqk adjacent #uhhh did i say this was 650 words? i might've lied a little #aaoooaaaa not beta read pls don't come at me im just a lil finn trying to english

[coffeeghoulie]

Maybe some phantom/aeon angst and maybe some swiss or mountain comfort?

Maybe phantom/aeon being all jumpy and on edge bc of anxiety and gets comforted after it’s all a bit too much?

-anon

I know you said Swiss or Mountain, but I did both instead lol. Hope you enjoy!

Content warning for an anxiety attack.

Aeon knows caffeine isn't going to help the way their heart flutters against their ribcage like a frightened bird, but their fingers wrap around the ceramic mug anyways. If anything, the warmth radiating from the coffee is soothing, at least a little bit.

They sit on a barstool at the kitchen table, back to the door, watching as Mountain organizes and puts away the morning's greenhouse harvest. His own mug sits on the counter, something that smells herbal and almost medicinal wafting up from it. Mountain hums as he works, something a little off-key but warm, earnest.

Mountain had pressed the coffee into their hands when they had stumbled into the kitchen earlier than they normally did, too keyed up from some dream they couldn't quite remember. They sip at it, stomach not quite agreeing with it, but Mountain's made it exactly the way they like it, sweet but not overly so, and they'd feel even worse turning him down.

They finish the coffee as Mountain leans against the kitchen counter, his tea in one hand, the other curled around the counter. There's a surge of envy that fills their chest at how at ease he looks, how every muscle in his body isn't tense and ready to jump.

"You alright, petunia?" Mountain asks, taking a long sip of his tea. Aeon whips their head to face him. "You're normally not awake this early."

They swallow hard, the aftertaste of the coffee suddenly too bitter. They shrug, hoping their face remains pleasantly neutral, hiding the way their mind races. Why can't they be calm? Why do they feel like they're dying? What's happening to them?

Mountain's brow furrows, and Aeon stares into their empty mug to avoid his gaze. Of course he can see right through them. Aeon swallows hard, their breath coming faster and faster and they can't stop it, why can't they stop it?

They're spiraling over nothing and they can feel Mountain's eyes on them and and and-

Aeon yelps as a hand touches their shoulder, jolting as the mug slips from their fingers, shattering against the tile.

Everything stops.

"Aeon?" a voice Aeon knows is Swiss's says behind them. Mountain pushes himself up to standing, taking a step towards them. They keep staring at the shattered ceramic.

"'M sorry," they wheeze, mind starting to race again. They broke one of Mount's mugs. Aeon moves to collect the broken pieces, desperately trying to make things right, when Swiss's hand tightens ever so slightly around their shoulder.

"Don't apologize," he says, voice steady and calm and Aeon clings to it like a life preserver. "It's okay. It was an accident. I'm sorry for startling you, bug."

Aeon gives a little warbling hum, still bending to gather the broken pieces.

"Hey, hey, Aeon, stop," Swiss says, pulling them upright. "Mount's grabbing the broom, I don't want you to cut yourself on those."

Aeon finally meets Swiss's eyes, and the concern they see written there makes their shoulders slump, their breathing shaky. Swiss is quick to wrap his arms around them, holding them just tight enough.

"It's okay, you're okay, we've got you," he breathes, chuffing softly in their ear. "Can you follow my breathing?"

They nod, trying to focus on the way his hand skates up and down their spine, the in and out of his breath. He whispers softly as they shakily try to follow along. "That's it, bug, doing so good. Just keep breathing nice and slow, okay?"

Aeon nods again, burying their face in the crook of his neck. They tense up just a little as they hear the tinkle of ceramic shards against each other, the scrape of the broom against the tile, but Swiss just coos a little louder, runs his fingers through their hair.

Mountain approaches the two of them, his footsteps deliberately louder so Aeon knows he's coming up behind them. "It's alright, petunia, we've got you," he says, voice a low rumble. Aeon leans back on the stool, lifting their face from the crook of Swiss's neck to rest the back of their head against Mountain's chest.

They nod as Mountain starts to purr, a deep thing that they can feel buzzing against them. Their eyelids slip a little, breathing suddenly so much easier, safe in the arms of their packmates. "Thank you," Aeon says, and they've never meant anything more.

#dot's writing #aeon ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #fic request #cw anxiety #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction

[whumpasaurus101]

Look at me posting this on the deadline LMFAO BUT ITS NOT LATE SO LOOK AT ME GO WOOOOO. This is for @epiclamer's and @save-the-villainous-cat's super cute ask game which was GENIUS!!! This was so so much fun thank you!!! @hufflepuffwritingstuff22 had an ask in their inbox: “Hero being brainwashed and forced to fight their friends.”

---

"Please, Hero!" Sidekick's desperate voice sounded through the room. "I know this isn't you. Think of who I am! C'mon, Hero, please!!!"

Tears streamed down their face as they desperately kicked away fro the 'stranger' before them. That wasn't Hero/ Surely Hero wouldn't do this!

They whimpered as their back hit the wall, gulping hard as they watched Hero continue to stride towards them, switchblade twirling in hand.

"Oh, but Sidekick, don't you understand? This is me. All this time I have been trying to hide it,but now, bow it's too late. You've gone too far. You're a disappointment to not only me, but yourself."

Sidekick gulped as the words carved antagonizingly slow into their heart, their chest growing tight as they tried to keep their breathing level. Their eyes flickered up to Hero's, tears threatening to fall. Their voice came out as a weak rasp, "This is-isn't you..."

They had given up hope at this point, how were they supposed to get through to Hero???

A fist tightened in Sidekick's shirt and hauled them to their feet before they were suddenly slammed against the wall. Sidekick wheezed as they felt all the air leave their body, their eyes blowing wide.

They flinched hard as Hero raised their fist, squeezing their eyes shut as a whimper ripped from their throat but Hero's fist quickly collided with their cheek.

Blood splatted against the ground as they coughed, "He-h'ro... 'm.. pl'se..." Blood ran down from their mouth, their vision spotting. Punch after punch was delivered until Sidekick screamed, breaking into sobs as their body shook with each cry.

As Villain entered the door, Hero instantly dropped Sidekick to the floor. "Hero, to me."

Sidekick watched in horror, wheezing on the floor as Hero quickly made their way over to Villain before dropping to their knees.

Sidekick tried to swallow back bile as they slowly sat up, "Wha-what did you do?"

Villain chuckled softly, a cool smirk painting along their face as they looked at Sidekick, "Oh, this? Oh honey, what I did to Hero is exactly what I am going to do to you. Now Sidekick," They clicked their finger, "I need you to focus on my voice and my voice only."

Sidekick flinched back as Villain's hand rested against their head, a sudden presence filling their head as they lost full control. And suddenly it kicked in. Their thoughts weren't theirs. And as they approached Hero, a clenched fist either side, they had to watch as someone forced them to fight their mentor. Fight the last person who had fate in them. How would Hero ever forgive them?

#THIS WAS SO FUN RAAAAA #IM HALF ASLEEP WHILE FINISHING THE PIECE #SO SORRY ITS NOT GOOD #almost halloween WOOOOOO #whump #whumpee #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #hero whumper #villain whumper #sidekick whumpee #sidekick whumper #mind control #magic whump #surrenderanask #lee wrote something :o

[slashers-and-rats]

30 minutes.

billy lenz x fem!reader | nsfw | sub!billy, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, worship

a/n: nothing to say about this one, I’m just a dirty bitch.

desperation was a feeling billy was well acquainted with. he needed so much, he craved so much, it was a feeling as familiar as hunger to him. it was a hunger. deep down in his soul he was starved for something, anything, to just take him and rip him apart. he wanted to be torn into, wanted to hear the ripping of his skin and the beating of his own heart. for the longest time he yearned to be dissected.

and then you came along. you were so merciful. you saw his silent pleas and answered his prayers. you were a blessing to him, something to worship. you gave him what he needed without him ever having to ask. you were his nutrition, his education, his shelter- you were his everything.

every time he saw you, he felt so overwhelmed. you were very aware that the noises he made were uncontrollable. they burst out of his chest. you would be sitting with him, brushing his hair and soothing him, but he’d still hack, cough, wheeze, and spit out vile depravities. to you, it was something he couldn’t hold back. to him, it was because you filled up his lungs, and squeezed the desires out of his mouth without even trying. when he saw you, he couldn’t keep his feelings hidden. you always brushed them aside, ignoring his outbursts thinking that he was self-conscious of such a habit. it was a grace. another mercy you bestowed upon him.

today, he sat close to you. he had been curled against your chest, bundled up in a blanket while you ran your hands through his hair. he had managed to keep said sounds to a minimum. he had gotten used to some of your touches; fingers in his locks, rubbing his back, your lips pressing to his temple before he fell asleep. billy was always overwhelmed by your presence alone, but these few things had become so normal, it felt odd when it didn’t happen.

you were humming softly, and he listened to the way it sounded in your chest. it rumbled against his ear, and he purred quietly as if to mimic that feeling. it made you smile. you ran your fingers once again through his hair, but this time let them glide further down the back of his neck and to the dip between his shoulder blades.

billy shuddered. such softness was new to him. it hit him like a truck when you treated him like this, so fragile and small. he could feel you sigh. he could feel your body shift underneath him, reaching up to his face to move him where you wanted him. he followed, gazing up at you with big eyes. looking directly at you was hard. his gaze darted in every direction, fearing that if he stared too long he would get lost. but you didn’t mind. you just leaned down, pressing your lips to his.

it was soft at first. you didn’t push hard. you just rested your mouth against his, letting him melt into that feeling. it wasn’t enough for him, though. how could you think it was, he thought? you knew he needed more. it made him whine against your lips, pulling away only a millimetre so that he could pant. he was trying to get the words out, but the only thing he could muster was disjointed syllables that didn’t make sense together.

you hummed again, and he could still feel the way it vibrated in your throat. “do you need something, billy?” you cooed. you once again trailed your fingers over his neck, this time circling to the front so you could press your fingertips into his throat. he nodded enthusiastically, which made you giggle. it sounded like song birds to him. “what do you need than? use your words.”

he pulled away more. billy’s eyes glided over you. he slid his weight off of your lap and onto the couch as he began to sputter, pushing out any sound he could. his throat felt clogged. you patted his thigh encouragingly. it gave him enough strength to finally cough, groaning low in his throat, before speaking in the same tone. “n-need you. billy needs you.”

that familiar look shined in your eyes. you seemed almost divine like this, like some all knowing being that could see straight into billy’s thoughts. he wondered if you were disgusted by the things he wanted to do to you. the way you grinned made him feel that you wanted them too.

“what does billy need from me?” you purred, continuing to lower your touch from his throat, down his chest, resting at his stomach. his eyes followed your hand the best he could. he liked the way it danced along his skin every time he breathed in hard.

“need your body. need your fucking cunt, need it so bad… need you o-on top of me, need it… i-i wanna be swallowed by you, i-i wanna be inside of you- I need it, billy needs-“ his rambling was cut off by a soft moan, his head lulling forward. he could already feel himself getting hard. he was always two seconds away from fucking you, he just needed the okay.

“you’ve been really good lately,” you began, your finger now hooking in his pant’s waistband. he nodded, biting his lip and whimpering. “i think you deserve a really good treat.” his eyes darted up to yours. “you get to do whatever you want for the next 30 minutes, okay? whatever you need from me, you can take. I’m here just for you, alright?”

the sound billy made was animalistic. he nearly barked in joy, opening his mouth to make the sound, but only a cough coming out. he didn’t waste time, though. half an hour was not long, and he didn’t want to wait for you to change your mind about this. no, he was quick. he got up on his knees, pressing his hands into your shoulders so you were trapped between his body and the couch. you were surprised by his sudden energy, staring up at him with slight bewilderment. it only motivated him. he loved that expression, the one you made when you didn’t know what to expect, and he wanted more.

he gripped at your shoulders, crashing his lips against yours. he was quick to bite your lips, pulling at them until you gasped, and then taking the oppurtunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. you whimpered so sweetly, billy thought he’d get a toothache. he sucked on your tongue, wanting to get the sugar out. he moaned into your mouth, gliding his tongue over your teeth and mapping out every single molar and incisor, memorizing this feeling. it was too good to forget.

while he kissed you, his hands moved down to your front. for how lanky he was, and how much smaller he was compared to you, he was a stronger man. it was proven when he ripped your shirt like it was paper, letting your tits fall out against your chest. his hands quickly gathered them up, though, and squeezed them. it made you yelp, and he laughed. he snickered, squeezing and pinching, pulling more muffled noises from you while he played. he loved the way you squirmed and writhed under his touch. he felt like, in this moment, you knew what he felt like to even be near you.

his mouth disconnected from yours, but quickly attached itself to one of your nipples. your head fell back against the couch, a deep sigh leaving you. he hummed, teeth grazing over your skin, tongue lapping against your nipple. he grabbed your wrist, pulling it close to him and down to his crotch. “touch me,” he commanded, voice garbled against your skin. but you understood the request, and patted his hip.

“y-you gotta get o-out of your clothes first, b-billy,” you explained.

billy pulled his mouth off with a cartoonish ‘pop’ sound. as he pulled his jeans down, wiggling them off of his hips, he watched you. your face was red, your chest wet with his drool and heaving from your breathing. he liked seeing you like this, so ready for him.

he threw his pants to the side, getting up on his knees and sitting down with your thigh in between his legs. “touch me,” he repeated, kissing you again, his hands gripping your boobs. you reached down quickly, beginning to stroke him the way he liked. you squeezed around his shaft, stroking at a moderate pace, thumb pressing just underneath his head. it made him wheeze against your lips. he was sloppy as he kissed you, paying more attention to bucking into your hand than anything. he pulled away, breath hot on your face, as he fully focused on fucking into your grip.

“p-piggy likes billy’s cock… loves it… n-needs it… y-you can barely wrap your fingers around me… s-silly piggy, such a dumb piggy… you’re drooling for billy, drooling for his cock!” he ranted. you leaned your forehead against his. his mouth hung open, his grip moving to the back of the couch so he could get more leverage on his movements. he thought he looked pathetic like this, fucking into your hand like some horny mutt. but the way you looked at him made him feel like a star. it made his entire body quake, and he had to slow for a moment to catch his own breath.

you, on the other hand, continued to stroke his cock, making him mewl and press his body further into you. he couldn’t get close enough. he wanted to melt like wax over your skin, and envelope you in his own body. he pressed sloppy kisses to your throat and jaw, grunting with every stroke. “you getting close…?” you whispered against his ear. he nodded, barely able to properly speak as his balls began to ache.

it felt so warm under his skin. he was on fire. every glide of your hand shovelled coal into his furnace. your speed picked up, and he writhed against your leg, gasping and wheezing. “c-cum. coming… gonna cum on piggy, gonna paint piggy white, g-gonna-“ his mouth snapped shut, teeth clenching as he came hot ropes over your hand and leg. he whined through his teeth, head falling back and throat bobbing with every short snap of his hips while he used your hand to milk himself. when he was done, your hand pulled away, and he used the moment to catch his breath.

“good boy, billy. we didn’t even need 30 minutes…” you wiped some of his load off on your own pants. you didn’t notice billy shift to loom over you.

“not done,” he grunted. before you could ask what he meant, he stood up, his waist now about level with your face. he yanked your hair back, and it made you yelp. your mouth fell open, and you barely had time to fathom what he was doing before he pressed himself into your mouth.

he was still soft, and tasted salty on your tongue. he was clearly sensitive. his eyes were screwed shut, hand gripping at your hair, and mouth still open slightly and muttering obscenities. you stared up at him for a moment, before you felt him begin to move in your mouth.

you were surprised by this, whimpering around his soft cock. this made his hips twitch. he was panting, leaned over you pushing your head down with every movement of his hips. you thought he looked cute like this, strung out and desperate for more even after coming. he was beginning to sweat slightly, and the groans and whimpers coming from his mouth weren’t so animalistic anymore, instead becoming strained and needy. you tried to pull off a little, give him a break from the clear overstimulation he was experiencing, but he didn’t let you. he pushed you deeper, his cock sliding into the back of your mouth, and your nose pressed against his happy trail.

“n-need more, please… please, i-i can handle it, p-please, piggy,” he pleaded, squeezing out every syllable coarsely. his eyes fluttered open for only a moment. when he saw you, looking up at him so lovingly, so eager to give him what he craved, he had to shut his lids closed again. it was too much, you were too much.

you could feel him growing hard in your mouth again, and his dick quickly hit the back of your throat. the twitch of his hips settled, until he was grinding himself into your mouth, revelling in the warmth that surrounded him. he moaned, never holding back a single noise. they washed over you. he really was so desperate, wasn’t he?

this point was further proven when he began to thrust steadily into your mouth. it was slower at first, a gliding roll of his hips, but quickly became something rougher. his pace picked up, until the sound of your lips slapping against his base rang out through the room. you gagged around him, and he mimicked the sound back in between moans. drool was running down his chin, mouth hanging open, hand still gripping your hair while the other held him up using the couch. his body was shaking, shuddering from the ache that was coming from his cock. he was on fire. every once in awhile he’d open his eyes so he could look down at you. your lips were becoming puffy from his abuse, your eyes fluttering with every movement of his hips. you looked like a pornstar. his pornstar. his.

“m-mine, mine, mine…” he began chanting this over and over, keeping in rhythm with the way he fucked your throat. your hands moved to hold his waist, watching him come unravelled over top of you. it was so cute seeing him like this. a slut in its truest state.

you gathered your own composure, and you ran your tongue up and down his shaft when you could manage, letting it dart out against his balls when he was flush against you. this was too much for him, but somehow not enough. he was getting lost in it all, you could tell. the incoherent ramblings and ever quickening rock of his hips made that clear. it wasn’t until you reached up and played with his balls that he really screamed. he saw twinkling lights in his eyes. he felt his body tighten and then relax, like a beating heart.

he came again, this time spilling down your throat. you gagged, working to swallow every drop he released. even as he came he pressed himself into your mouth, hips grinding against your lips and body curling over your own. he gripped your head with both hands, shuddering and muttering small “thank you’s” as he pumped himself into you. soon, his hips halted, and he breathed heavy over top of you. you slid your mouth off of him, giving one last kiss to his tip, before leaning back against the couch. you licked your lips and looked up at him.

billy was already watching you, eyes half closed and smiling. “g-good piggy… best- best piggy,” he praised, thumb rubbing over your cheek. he tilted your head up, swiping his digit over your chin to wipe away your own drool that had gathered there. he sat down against the couch, leaning back against the arm rest.

“done this time?” you asked. he looked over at you, eyes trailing over your own messy physique, before shaking his head. “really?”

you were surprised he could go for another round. his cock was soft yet again, resting against his waist. his stomach moved up and down like waves on a beach. this was usually when he’d be finished. he’d rest like this after your quickies all the time. but this time, he wanted more.

“one more… just one more…” he reached over, yanking you to sit on his waist. he looked up at you, gaze filled with worship, and it made you blush. sometimes being looked at like that was overwhelming even for you. billy didn’t care. you were everything to him. he’d keep going until he couldn’t anymore.

he picked himself up a little, keeping himself up on an elbow while his hand lifted his limp dick off of his stomach. he wiggled it around, making you chuckle a little. “you sure he can handle another round?” you gestured towards his flaccid cock.

billy nodded, eyes locking with yours. “sit.” it was a command, but a gentle one. and you listened. you got up, wriggling out of your own jeans, before throwing a leg over his torso. you sunk down, slow and steady onto his soft cock, and let your two lower halves meet. you groaned, and billy copied the sound from his own throat. he propped himself up against the arm rest, and held your thighs with his hands, keeping you from moving.

he just needed to sit for a moment. sparks popped behind his eyes. coming twice was a lot, but the feeling of being inside you after that was a wholly different thing. he just stared at you, biting his tongue and letting the aftershocks of the previous two orgasms make his body twitch and buck. the stimulation from these small movements made him whimper. he couldn’t sit still. his legs kept moving underneath you, hands changing the strength of their grip every few seconds, and his head kept rolling back against the couch, only to pop back up so he could keep looking at you.

the man was in a state. he was babbling, and all you had done was sit on his cock. “so good, piggy, so good… i-it feels so hot- so hot on my cock. bet you need it. you need billy’s cock, need it, need it… such a good pussy, such a good pussy for billy, so good… squeezing so good already. billy can’t take it. m-move piggy. please- please move.” he was whining. his voice kept shifting from stern and dominant to submissive and needy.

but you listened to his request, and began to lift your hips. you pressed them back down. once, twice- soon you had started a steady pace bouncing on his cock, and it was starting to harden once again inside of you. “you feel so good, billy… you feel so good inside of me. you fill me up so well,” you praised. it made him shake. he was now just writhing underneath you, his hips bucking when they could, but for the most part you were in control.

noises were continually spilling from his chest. rants about how good you felt, what sounded like the yelps and whines of a dog, sobs spilling between his clenched jaw; anything that popped into his head was then thrown out of his mouth. you were surprised there was anything left there at all.

you kept your movements slow, but it didn’t stop him from acting as if you were riding him within an inch of his life. you were so tight around him, massaging every vein and nerve ending, it made him feel like he was insane.

“a-already coming,” he rasped out, and in response you picked up the pace. his stomach churned. he tried to meet your thrusts, but he couldn’t. all that he could manage was out of rhythm twitches, and the occasional harsh buck up into your wet cunt. you were pouring down around him, sliding along him. it was too much, far too much.

he came with a sob. he sounded like a wounded animal. it came out choked and mangled. his back arched off the couch, hands grabbing at whatever he could grip, eyes rolling back into his skull. his mouth hung open, drool spilling out over his chin, tongue almost falling out of his mouth. his toes curled. his cry dwindled into pathetic whimpers, which turned into heaving breaths as you pulled yourself off of him and sat down on his thighs.

he was a panting beneath you. he was fucked out. his breathing was steadying, chest rising and falling with every wheeze of breath. his eyes were barely open. he was sprawled out underneath you, covered in a thin layer of sweat, and still letting small aftershocks run through his body, occasionally making him twitch.

you ran a hand up his chest and to his face, rubbing over his cheek affectionately. he leaned into your touch, kissing sloppily into your palm, and humming the same way you had been before.

“done now?” you asked, and he nodded slowly. you smiled. you’d clean up later, you thought. he clearly needed to be held.

you moved, laying down between him and the back of the couch, and in response he rolled over so he could be spooned from behind. your arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him close, and your fingers drew patterns into his stomach. he was whispering worships to you, nothing you could understand but you still thought was cute.

there came that familiar touch. you kissed his temple, listening to his breathing steady as he fully relaxed in your arms. you began humming again, and it felt good on his back. soon, he was drifting in and out of sleep, so content and happy to be there with such a merciful goddess to take care of him.

#billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #black christmas #slasher x reader #billy lenz x y/n

[bucknastysbabe]

Kink Bingo - Cumming Untouched

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Femdom, sub!Aegon, non-verbal baby, praise, soft domme, choking, crying, cumming untouched, Aegon is a needy lil slut that’s what he is okay

A/N: He’s got the best pouty face. You whores that follow me better send in a request or else I’ll just do this on my own for self-gratification w/ men crying😀

“Oh baby, you can’t help yourself can you?” she cooed. Her red nails curled around the leash, drawing it tight. Aegon’s cry was cut short by a choke. Violet eyes were red rimmed and watery as he trembled and whimpered in distress, so hard pressed to get to where he wanted. A thick black collar was wrapped around his bobbing throat— nothing else adorning his pale flesh.

The spoiled prince’s full lips were swollen and curled down in distress. He kept his hands dug into bare milky thighs. He had to or Mistress would punish him even more. She laid back in the leather chair, legs wide open around Aegon. He could only watch her glistening pussy in anguish, watch her digits slide in and out. Lewd squelching and Mistress’s pretty sighs filled his ears like music. He was going to explode.

She eased up on his collar, the blonde sucking in a desperate breath and exhaling with a wanton whine. He was shaking down to his soul, the prince was sure of that. His mistress just moaned softly and kept touching herself. Aegon’s cock throbbed painfully against his tight belly. He wanted to cum, like really really bad.

Mistress purred, “You’re such a little whore,” she pulled on the leash teasingly, “If I took a video they’d think it was a girl getting railed with the noises you make. I’m not even touching you.”

Aegon blubbered wordlessly, fat tears leaking down his ruddy cheeks. He mewled all helpless, trying to convey his message without speaking. He wasn’t allowed to speak. The blonde twitched and winced at his overfull balls throbbing. He pleaded with wet eyes. She derisively snorted, yanking his collar one time to gather the blonde’s wits.

“You wanna fuck me baby?”

Aegon nodded in jerky movements, whining happily. His cock leaked against his belly at the anticipation of her hot cunt. Mistress pulled her fingers from her pussy with a lewd noise. The blonde’s eyes widened as her glistening digits moved to his face. She laughed, “Open wide sweetheart. A treat for my good little baby. Then maybe you’ll fuck me.”

He sucked and licked on her fingers ravenously, shaking underneath his clawing fingertips. Aegon continued to noisily moan and slurp, eyes rolling up into his practically empty head. His hips jerked against the air, rutting against nothing. Mistress rambled, “Gods you’re so perfect. My toy, s’only good for looking pretty and slutty. Doubt you’ll even be able to fuck me without blowing,” she scoffed with no real heat, “Helpless.”

Aegon sucked in her words like a sponge, growing more taut and shaky. Mistress’s pretty little slut. That’s all he wanted to be. Sit and look beautiful between her thighs. He laved needily against Mistress’s fingers, violet eyes searching her own. His cock throbbed and twitched when she pulled out to thumb his swollen lips, moving downward to lightly press his bruise mottled throat.

She grinned, teeth glinting against the candlelight. Aegon mewled again, trying to keep from touching her or his rapidly swelling cock. He was close to just cumming from her heady attentions. Mistress choked him tighter and hissed. His lower belly grew hotter, so, so much hotter in pleasure.

“Cum now. Whore.”

The prince crumpled with a wheeze, confused sobs leaving his wracked frame. His cock pulsed and shot rope after rope of spend. Somewhere in the blinding pleasure and Aegon’s wailing she had slipped down to hold his overwhelmed frame. Aegon never had been hit so hard by an orgasm, still shaking and leaking on his belly. He whimpered his mistress name lowly, nuzzling instinctively into her tits. He was achy and tired now.

She pet his pale curls and murmured, “Good boy, so good for me Aegon. Pretty little prince. Cumming without getting your dick wet,” she squeezed him tenderly, “I’ve trained my slut well.” He rasped between her pillowy breasts, “M’your pretty slut. Only me.” Aegon possessively wrapped his limbs around her waist, seeking to almost climb onto Mistress’s lap.

She laughed, “Only you Aegon. Only you.”

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #dom reader #kink bingo #asks open #hotd smut #sub!aegon #aegon targaryen x reader