#+ do you REALLY want to charge into battle belly soft and exposed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

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Thot: sweet and fluffy morning sex with sweet Shriv and some breakfast in bed🥺🥺🥺.

Ooh, I love this. I was instantly inspired. Don't ask me what happened. This went to a weiiiiird place, but... I really like it. xD Some sweet, sweet angst along with a soft and sexy Duros with some *cough* breakfast in bed.

Shriv Suurgav x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k+

Warnings: NSFW : 18 + // Smut, angst, bad dreams, comfort, PiV sex, cunnilingus, fingering, kissing, cuddling, and fear of death.

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Breakfast in Bed

Explosions - the rapid firing of blasters - the earth rocked beneath you as you swayed from side to side trying to keep your balance. You were blinded by a thermal, the sweltering fluorescence expanding before your eyes as it consumed everything beyond your sight’s horizon.

You ran for cover; you saw white armor. Men shouted, and women too, their lamentations ringing out among the din of battle charges and orders barked. Your heart raced. You did not know if you would make it.

You saw Suurgav. He waved for you to walk forward towards him, urging you to take shelter under the canopy of a downed tree trunk. You paused; he hadn’t noticed the grenade. You screeched his name, “Shriv!!!” before the device erupted.

You awoke; you meant to scream, but the sheets were stirring. Your anxiety contorted into pleasure as your labored breaths transformed into immodest moans; you reached out above your head to grip the bedframe, steadying yourself for there was a Duros between your legs.

“What- what are you doing?” you breathed out heavily, suddenly enraptured. It was a stupid question; it was obvious. Shriv paused only momentarily, his husky voice reverberating betwixt your thighs.

“Haaving breakfasst in bed,” he stated perversely, a mischievous lilt coloring his tone. He continued with his mission, and by the Core he was so good at it. You had trained him well when just months ago the man was timid. His fear had all but left him as he had mapped out and memorized the best way to make you writhe.

Now he wouldn’t stop; he did this often. You had lost count of your many orgasms.

It was a reward in and of itself to see you squirm beneath him; to taste your distinct branding and your unique flavor. He was addicted, and Gods – you were wholly blessed for it.

Your hips bucked upward to meet his hungry mouth – you weren’t afraid of his fangs by now - he was industrious with the way he feasted on you, and being careful was always his prerogative.

He took the hint - you wanted more of it. He gently pressed against either side of your inner thighs. He splayed your legs apart, exposing you in your most vulnerable state. He had never bothered to lift the blankets.

He delved into your mound with unmatched enthusiasm out of anyone you had ever known with this much familiarity; you coaxed the sheet back to expose the lurid act. You couldn’t help yourself; you loved to watch.

“Mmmnnn,” he moaned into your cunt as he dined on you like you were a well-earned meal - a kill freshly captured - his appetite insatiable. Your voice left you in a ragged breaths; you were cracking and Suurgav would be the one to split you open.

Shriv kept his lengthy digits anchored across your legs even as you contrived a struggle. He knew you loved it when he wouldn’t let you go. You had taught him to be forceful. He was lying flat down on his belly, his legs extended by the knees to adjoin together in the air as his feet kicked leisurely.

His motile tongue took turns swirling and furling around your clit before licking a stripe down your labia minora and slinking his way into your dripping slit.

That skillful muscle probed you; he fed off you; he clamped down harder on your thighs as he drew you forward and lapped at your secretions like an animal quenching its inappeasable thirst for water. He pushed his tongue further into your quivering sex before he darted right back out again, trailing a path back to your throbbing bud.

You gasped as he shifted and filled you with one finger. It was slow, delicate, and it penetrated you with ease. You were already so drenched.

“That’ss a good girl…” he teased, his words praising your heightened arousal for him, exuded in a dry flirtatious baritone as he mildly laughed, though it wasn’t meant to be a mockery.

He matched his own speed as he caressed your inner walls, the Duros rumbling at the simple way your body threshed against his calm and patient strokes.

You came within minutes, seconds, Suurgav smooshing his rostrum directly against your tuft of wiry curls - your fleshy prominence - as he buried his tongue again, sampling of the nectar he had drawn from you.

Your release caused something surprising, something you had not experienced before. The vocalized expressions of your ecstasy morphed into tears of fear and overwhelming anxiety.

The Duros removed himself; he looked aghast. He reached out for you, though he was overcome with a sudden shyness and a sense of guilt.

He stammered; he was terrified that he had injured you. “F-F-Fullua?! What’s wrong?!”

He looked near to tears himself. He was shaking like a leaf as he searched you over. You raised your arms for him and begged him silently.

He crawled forward and you kissed him with more passion than you had meant to. Shriv gasped but accepted this dumbfounding gesture. Your hands explored his face; his head; his shoulders, even as he was about to have a heart attack.

“Shriv, I dreamt you died. It was so real!” You rolled with him. He was beneath you even as you sealed his lips with yours again. He slept naked, you both did. There was nothing to bar you from his full erection.

Without warning you placed him within yourself; you softly wept as you began to ride him. He stared up at you, chest heaving. He raised one hand; his fingers crept; they shakily brushed against your cheek.

“Is- is that all?” he whispered, unsure of himself; unsure of your current state.

“I-I didn’t hurt you?” he asked with great concern.

You only shook your head, slowly gliding your exorbitantly wet sex across his rigid member, his ribs and crests pushing you towards the throes of another pleasurable release.

Shriv threw his head back and bared his fangs in his own show of corporeal euphoria, his fingers lightly dredging into the plump, meaty thickness of your rump. It did not take long for him to reach a peak, though he held off, grinding his teeth into his bottom lip.

You impressed your cunt against him as far as it would go; you shoved his monstrous cock to the back of your canal. You ground your hips into him as much as you could stand it, your slick cavity full to the brim with his foreign anatomy.

Shriv’s eyelids fluttered as you came a second time, your declamation perhaps loud enough to hear beyond the door. Shriv instinctually lifted up his arm; he clamped your mouth shut, but so very, very gently.

“Quietly, darling, q-quiet...” he hummed through lips now pursed. He was afraid of the general hearing you, or anyone who might be around. He was still somewhat self-conscious; he liked to keep things private. He didn’t like unwanted questions or people meddling in his affairs – at least when it came to this.

Your teeth sank into his blue flesh in a tender nibble; he gasped before he was pushed to his own climax. His back had arced before he limply fell, hassling out haggard puffs of air in his exhaustion.

You crumpled atop him; you clung to his neck and shoulders. You buried your nose in the crook of his cool neck. You whimpered, whispering.

“Stay here. Just today. Don’t go. Don’t leave.”

You wouldn’t see it, but Shriv’s browridge knitted. He shifted to pet your head, his reedy fingers sweeping back a few wisps of your silken hair.

His words came out gravelly, his voice lacquered with an air of earnest, “Fullua, you know I have t-”

“No!” you belted out, clinging harder to him. He wrapped his arms around your upper body and cradled you against his chest. He thought it over before responding. Maybe there was some way he could make it work, though he would have to reorganize his schedule and explain himself.

“All right. Just today,” he confirmed, though sternly, yet he was still worried for you, his intonations giving away his deep unease.

Your head rose; you kissed him zealously. He managed to smirk against your soft lips, though when you pulled away his voice held a modicum of sass.

“Just caan’t get enough of me, caan you?” he feigned exasperated.

You could have retorted just as audaciously if you had wanted to, fallen into his mode of joking. Instead, you cupped his clear-cut mandible, grazing your fingers across his bristly chin.

“No, I can’t.”

Shriv nearly choked on his own spit. He hadn’t expected such an honest, forthright reply. He thought you might poke or prod at him at his expense like you always did, though his heart welled with a buzzing slew of happy chords and sentiments.

“Wait right here,” he commanded lightly.

He left you there for several minutes; you heard noises from your little kitchenette. He had brewed a cup of caf, toasted some bread to coat with jam, and offered you sliced pear and starfruit.

You took it from him; he snuggled back up into you. He shared a piece of fruit from off your plate and activated the holoprojector that sat across from you. He grinned like a giddy child.

“I used to love watching cartoonss in the morning – always made me feel better when I waas down.”

He stopped to study you, the simple act of you nibbling your piece of fruit. His grin softened until it became a smile. He faintly kissed your forehead and you instantly felt relaxed.

“But I’ll never love anything as much as I love you,” he finished, leaving you melting and your heart ready to burst.

The Duros knew just how to placate you, and for that you were quite thankful. Even if it turned out to be nothing, even if it was all a dream... for him to humor you, or to take you seriously, whatever this might be - it meant his words rang true, and you loved him, too.

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Masterlist

#Shriv Suurgav #Shriv Suurgav x Reader #Shriv x Reader #Shriv Suurgav x You #Shriv x You #x reader #x you #Star Wars #Star Wars Smut #Star Wars Battlefront 2 #Duros #Fluff #Angst #Resistance Reborn #Anonymous Request

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for-ests · 3 years

Text

Waiting Game: Ban x Reader

Summary: friends with benefits can only drag on for so long when both parties have gotten over their past lovers and are faced with death. (honestly don’t know what this drabble is but enjoy the nymph lore)

Warnings: smut, mentions and descriptions of death

Wc: 5, 049

It was entirely impossible to resist Ban’s advances.

It took all of your willpower to keep your distance, to pretend he was nothing more than a friend, and to pretend that each smile he directed your way didn’t pull violently at your heartstrings.

Yet, the two of you danced around the thin and dangerous line of friends with benefits. Ban loved another, and so did you.

The years of pain and suffering you had endured just trying to forget your past lover had worn you down. Your first beloved was dead, leaving a hole in your heart that felt like it would never be repaired.

Your story was far less epic, and far more grim. You were nothing but a forest Nymph, even if you were designated a princess. That title meant nothing when the kingdom you had been expected to rule was wiped off the map by the Holy Knights.

You had nothing to run back to. You and your people scattered desolately across the continent, desperate to cling to any prospering landscapes and vegetation. That was where you were strongest, but even then, it wasn’t much.

That’s why you had immediately devoted yourself to Meliodas’s cause the moment he saved your life. And years later, when Ban found his way back into the group, you felt yourself wanting to devote your heart to him.

Strangely though, devoting your body was easier at first. Pretending that you could never feel love for a person again was easier. You would lose yourself against Ban’s lips, and find an exhilarating high you had never known before.

None of the other sins knew about your late night escapades with Ban. Nobody even suspected that you would be interested in him. How could you, a ‘dainty’ and ‘helpless’ Nymph even handle someone as strong and powerful as Ban?

Truthfully, you had been searching for someone that refused to treat you as if you were fragile. You relished in the toughness of Ban, the complete and utter control he exerted and how he refused to be gentle with you. You were simply attracted to him because he was the only one who put his needs above others.

That was the only reason, right?

It was hard to remain neutral about your relationship with the Fox Sin. He would treat you like you were just a hooker who had found your way into his bed at night, but then treat you like the princess you rightfully were in the morning.

All your life you had been protected, you had been cherished, and you had been taken care of. And Ban, he only took care of himself. At least at the start of his relationship with you. You found immense pleasure in being treated like a rag-doll, you loved the feeling of his fangs scraping your delicate sin. Love bites and bruises were welcomed, as long as they were able to be concealed.

Your secretive relationship with Ban had been going on for months, and now it was starting to take its toll on you. You were starting to slip up every day, making your concern and feelings for him known to others.

It had always been hard to face the reality of your situation. But now that you had found a welcoming group with similar goals, you were starting to deeply care for them. When you stood by their side in battle, the constant fear of death weighed down on your shoulders. You weren’t as strong as them, you weren’t nearly prepared enough. You were weak with how much you cared.

And if they left, you would have nobody. Now, you were vulnerable.

Especially Ban. Watching him fight that day had brought tears to your eyes. The Holy Knights had been keen on ending your life, yet the Fox Sin had sacrificed himself to save you. Even if he was immortal, the pain he must have felt from the blade piercing his heart was unfathomable. Yet, he had done it with no hesitation for you.

Every time you closed your eyes, the scene of his potential death seared through the darkness. You could hardly remember what happened after, but you knew you had screamed at the top of your lungs, sprinting towards him in horror, knees buckling underneath you.

Your comrades had been baffled at your outburst. And you knew if there weren't greater challenges to face, they might have even asked you about it.

Elizabeth had. She caught you right before you closed your bedroom door.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

Without needing to ask, you knew what she was referring to. You had always kept your cool, you had always been focused in battle no matter whose life was at stake, even your own. Yet your inner turmoil had become too much to conceal.

The panic that was visible in your eyes had caused Elizabeth to shudder. She recognized the look on your face to resemble her own when it came to Meliodas.

“Yeah, I'm alright.” You managed a smile.

The princess sighed. “I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Opening your door further, your shoulders slumped in defeat. “I just had a wakeup call today.” Though your words were short, they came out soft and forthcoming.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Elizabeth tilted her head, fidgeting with her fingers. She was already dressed in her nightgown, all prepared and ready for a peaceful slumber. You knew if you admitted what was racing through your mind, she would also spend all night worrying about it and comforting you.

Yes, you did. You really wanted to, but fatigue was starting to invade your senses. Your love for Ban could be confessed another night.

“I do, Elizabeth.” You exhaled in defeat. She had definitely figured you out. “I’ll talk to you about it later… I just need some sleep right now.”

“I understand-” She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Her kindness astounded you. It astounded you so much that you were left speechless. It reminded you of the kindness your deceased sister used to radiate. The memories overtook you before you could stop them. It had been so long, it had been years since you had felt like this.

Elizabeth released your hand and gave you a weary smile. She was drained as well. The princess turned slowly, and retreated back to her bedroom.

“Thank you.” You called after her. The two of you had a lot more in common than you were willing to admit. You were just frightened of the pain you would feel when she was no longer with you. Everyone you had ever cared about had died. One less person to care about would equal one less heartbreak.

Yet, you were starting to realize your attempt to push others away wasn’t working. Even if you didn't want to care, you still did. There was no escaping that fact.

“Of course, Y/N.” She whispered, then closed her door.

The lamp on your bedside table was dim. For a moment, you stood in the middle of your room. You wanted to sleep, you were incredibly drowsy, yet your brain refused to rest like your body so desperately craved.

You spent a couple minutes reorganizing the few items in your possession. Anything to keep your mind busy, anything to not think about your horrifying past, anything to not think of him.

Him. Ban’s face flashed through your mind. For the first time, Ban was the only man present. Your cravings for your past lover were starting to diminish. You still missed him more than anything, yet you took comfort in the fact that you might be moving on.

He would want you to be happy. Even if your happiness was rooted in another man’s presence.

The clanging of dishes emitted from downstairs, causing you to turn towards the door. The lights from below shone through the wooden panels. Without sparing a second more to think, you reopened your door. The only person awake would be him.

The other sins had retired to bed, leaving Ban to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep unless you talked to him, you tiptoed down the stairs to join him. Your thoughts were in shambles and you were searching for comfort. Temporary or not, you needed something. And Ban was the only one you were comfortable enough to be vulnerable with.

“Hey there.” You whispered once you rounded the stairwell and into the restaurant portion of the building.

Ban glanced over his shoulder and found you waiting patiently. Smirking, he turned to face you fully. “Why are you up? I assume it's not to help me with dishes.”

Briefly, his eyes lingered on your somewhat exposed body. Your bedtime attire, though loose and comfortable, still managed to accentuate your frame.

“What if it is?” You teased, lightheartedness filling your tone at the sight of him smiling upon your arrival. He had probably been expecting it, knowing you.

You had hardly spoken during dinner, all you had mumbled was a thank you before retreating back to your bedroom. Everyone had noticed it was a stark contrast from the heavenly taste his cooking provided, one that you complimented time and time again.

Ban could tell something was wrong when you still seemed distressed despite a full belly.

“Then show me, come help.” He turned back around, calling your bluff.

You obliged without another word. The faucet was streaming with water, and you took charge of drying the dishes after Ban scrubbed them clean.

Sometimes chores was all it took to silence the calamity of your mind. Even if Ban was part of your distress, you found comfort in his company alone.

That was what you had sought for, yet now that you were by his side again, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act now that he had seen the desperation in your eyes.

Did he think you were insane for caring about him?

The silence between you and the Fox Sin was deafening. You could tell there was a lot on his mind because of the way his eyebrows were narrowed. If it was even possible, the way he scrubbed the excess food off the plates was frustrated in nature.

Minutes passed, the night stretching on. At this rate you had become too timid to speak, sheepishness gracing your features as you tried to decipher what he was thinking.

Ban handed you a cooking pot, it was large and bulky, causing your hands to touch his as you took it from his grasp. You could feel his gaze on you finally, the intensity of his eyes seeming to bore holes into your skull, threatening to uncover what you were feeling.

“What happened to you today?” He asked.

Sighing, you averted your gaze to the damp towel in your hand. “Nothing Ban, it’s okay.”

Ban paused until you finished drying off the rest of the dishes. He shut the sink off and wiped his hands clean.

“You cried.” He said, as if you didn’t know. “You were afraid.”

It was hard to remember that you had never cried in front of The Sins before. You had been alive for over two hundred years and developed a hardened shell. For decades you hadn’t shed a tear in front of another, yet witnessing Ban risk his life for you caused you to snap.

“I’m always afraid.” You deflected his attempt once again.

“You don’t need to be, Y/N.” His voice resembled tenderness, an emotion he rarely displayed.

Despite the softening of your heart, you glared. “Why?”

“Because I’ll protect you. I can’t die.”

Faltering at his bluntness, you turned away. He had to be toying with you, like he always did, like he always had. “You can still leave, Ban. You can still be taken away from me.”

The anguish in your voice was evident. It was becoming hard to speak, the fear of losing everything you had with him over something as simple as being honest was unbearable.

Suddenly, Ban grasped your shoulders and forced you to face him. He tilted your chin up, his eyes seeming to burn with a passion that surpassed the normal lust you had become accustomed to. “I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” You tried desperately to fight off his advances. You didn’t know why, you just didn’t want to admit something you would later regret. Ban didn’t care about anyone but himself. That was what it came down to, you didn’t want to fall in love with someone who would never be able to love you back. “All I am to you is sex. That’s how it’s always been and how it will always be. You can spare the theatrics before they suspect it.”

Now, Ban was starting to unravel the fervent need that had been stirring inside him for months. He wanted you more than anything, he needed you—yet he was fighting against himself. He didn’t deserve you, someone as pure and innocent as yourself had already let him take advantage of your body for far too long.

Yet Ban couldn’t stop. His selfish nature was overpowering, encouraging him to take your heart as well as make it his own. The Fox Sin wanted you all to himself and wouldn’t be able to handle the repercussions that would follow if your head was turned by another.

Ban knew he was going to lose you if he didn’t do anything. And the thought of losing you was something he couldn’t bear. There was still so much you had to offer, so much you had to teach him, so much love you were offering with every longing stare and every touch.

So, he begged. It felt strange to care for someone like this again. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what needed to be said except the obvious truth. “After I took a spear in the chest for you? After you held me in your arms and cried? That’s all you have to say?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Tears were threatening to pour over at this point.

Why couldn’t you say it? Why couldn’t you come clean? You were not a prideful person, you were always honest and open. Yet still, as the confession perched on the tip of your tongue, you struggled to even breathe.

After the awkwardness of your previous insult had passed, Ban’s forehead rested against your own, the weight of him sending shivers down to your core. His skin against yours would always be enough, no matter your relationship. Was a wish like that even allowed? Were you allowed to be as greedy as him?

With a quivering lip, you finally met his gaze. Red hues stared back at you with an unmasked intensity, hands finding their way along your jawline, easily cupping your cheeks in their entirety. He smirked when he realized they were burning.

This time, you refused to look away. Say it first. You dared, finally coming to realize that he was thinking the exact same thing as you. Be a man and say it first.

“I love you, Y/N. Is it not obvious?”

Your eyes widened. The way they had when you watched him stumble to the ground, a spear protruding through his chest, the consequence of caring for someone. Everyone you had ever loved met the same fate.

Though you suspected he might, hearing him finally admit it was in its own league of shocking. A tear spilled over your eyelid, and as you struggled to think of something to say, you felt it roll down your cheek. Ban moved his thumb and wiped it away. “Say you love me too. I know you do.” His tone rose with conviction, his grip tightening with each second of silence that passed you by.

“I-I do.” You whimpered, blinking profusely. “I love you too.”

Immediately, the Fox Sin relaxed against you. Before you could make another move your entire body was embraced, engulfed by his own.

Neither of you spoke, both of you wondering if the other was completely over their past lover. You were, and Ban was too. Neither of you would have confessed a lie and proclaimed it the truth.

It had already taken so long to get to this point that there was no use to deny it.

He held onto you until your tears evaporated. Breathing in his scent was enough to pry you from your never-ending thoughts, a scent that was similar to evergreen and hickory. Home. It was your home.

Eventually, like he always did, Ban pulled away and lifted your chin up with his finger. “You’re mine now.”

“I always was.” You revealed, trying to hide the desperation that threatened to pour over. Resistance had always coursed through your veins, with everyone and everything, until you had met Ban. It had taken all of your willpower to conceal your feelings until this moment. Every moment you had spent by yourself was spent wondering if you truly loved him. No matter how much you hated it, every time you came to accept that you were.

And now, all you could think about was consummating this moment with him. You wanted to engrave the yearning you had always felt into his mind, so deeply, so forcefully, that he wouldn’t be able to think of anyone else.

Ban’s throaty chuckle was heavenly. “Don’t say things like that. You are the most interesting, undecipherable woman I’ve ever met.”

“Why are you just telling me this now?” You stared up at him with heavy lidded eyes, skin tingling by his proximity alone.

How could Ban convey the reasonings behind his actions? No one had ever understood his thought process. He hardly did, he would never be able to figure out why he hadn’t told you sooner. The easiest summarization he could think of was that he hadn’t realized his own feelings until it was almost too late. Once he glimpsed the terror in your eyes, when he felt your rejuvenating touch while he was on the verge of death-- was the moment it all made sense. He was fighting for you, instead of him alone. Ban had risked his life for you.

When the spear plunged deep into his chest, knowing you were safe, tranquility had washed over him. “I had to give my all to make you mine.” The Fox Sin said with the utmost honesty.

Indirectly referring to your own actions, Ban’s reasonings made complete sense. But now, that didn’t matter. How you came to finally become his was no longer a question now that your wish had come true.

You loved him. Ban was the reason you were able to love again.

“Give me the rest.” Your once limp hand balled his shirt into a fist, tugging him down and over you. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, all you could do was show him. You would give him your everything from this moment forward.

“As you wish.” He smirked, trying to muster up the persona he had presented to you for months, yet his heart had softened, and his movements became tender. Ban wanted to fuck you until you could hardly stand, but this time he would be there to take care of you afterwards. He would wake up in the morning with you in his arms.

When your lips finally pressed against his, all your previous worries, your fears, and your baggage melted with his touch. Nothing else seemed to matter.

“I'm going to have you right here, right now. No buts.” He craned his neck down, attacking the sensitive, delicate skin of your neck within the next breath.

Your head tossed back with a gasp, allowing him direct access to every inch. One arm looped around your waist, while the other took one sweep of the clutter across the wooden bar. Before you could process what was happening, he had swept you off your feet and onto the countertop. “I don’t care if they hear. I don’t care if we get caught.”

With one swift movement, he gripped the hem of your pajama shirt and tore it in two.

"Ban! please..." You whimpered as the cold air swirled across your normally covered parts, which were quickly devoured by the burning sensation of his mouth. Immediately you succumbed to the lust and couldn’t muster up a protest about the article of clothing he had just destroyed.

Quickly, he tugged off your shorts, almost ripping off your panties as well. You gasped, sliding your hands all over his torso, wanting to feel every inch of him. It had been so long, way too long.

You slipped off his shirt before his hands grasped your hips and pulled your bum to the edge of the bar, your lower portion only remaining in place against his body.

Anticipation was dripping between your thighs as Ban leaned fully over you, flattening your back against the glossed over countertop, kissing you deeper, his tongue swirling forcibly inside your mouth. He fought for dominance, trailing his hands slowly up and down your sides, grasping your skin with need every time a short gasp left your lips.

Begging for more, your legs snaked around his waist, bringing his manhood against your already exposed cunt. He groaned in response, his lips curling against your breasts as he peppered kisses around your hardening buds.

Ban was never this attentive. He hardly paid attention to foreplay, and now that he finally decided to make it all about your pleasure, he was becoming addicted, knowing if you didn’t stop him he would be able to torture you all night.

“Now, Ban.” You pleaded, bringing your hand to smooth through his hair, intertwining your fingers through his locks and forcing him to move his face towards your throbbing cunt.

The Fox Sin removed his lips from your skin to catch his breath, a little surprised himself at how rough and desperate the two of you were acting. His eyes grazed your neck and chest, which were already blossoming red with love bites.

Ban’s warm skin was burning against yours, hands grasping, jaw clenching, as he paused to take in the moment of you sprawled against the bar’s surface. Your hair fanned out over your shoulders, eyes glimmering with an emotion he would have never expected to be directed his way. "Ban..." You purred, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him satisfy you. To tease the Fox Sin further, one of your hands reached up and began to thumb over your nipple, which was still wet with his saliva. You wanted him inside of you so badly, your thighs twitching with urgency. “Please take me.”

"God...You're so sexy." He obeyed your command for the first time, swirling his tongue around your entrance until it was drenched with him. You moaned loudly at the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you, lips sucking and puckering over your cilt, preparing you for his staggering length, a length that would have you begging on your knees within a moment's notice.

You wanted to be the one to dominate, but the way he had you positioned left no room to protest. With hazy vision and flustered cheeks, all you could think about was him. Heaving out breaths of pleasure from his stimulating actions, you watched Ban slip his belt off, letting his pants fall to the ground and pool around his ankles. Wanting to keep you writhing for more, Ban spread your legs apart and stuck two fingers in, pumping them wildly, while staring deeply into your eyes.

He stroked his length with the other hand, undeniably turned on by the sight of you in such a mess, all for him. Ban could never get tired of the way you squirmed underneath him, begging for more.

"Don’t be too loud." The Fox Sin whispered.

“I c-can’t promise that...The others might hear-” You tried to protest, until you felt his hands curling around your bum.

“Shut up-” He demanded, pulling his fingers out and sticking them inside your mouth. Your back arched against the counter, wishing you could hold onto something for support. “You can’t ignore me all day and expect me not to punish you.”

You nodded in reply as Ban took initiative and curled his hands around your bum until you were utterly submissive in his grip.

You felt more delicate tonight, your senses heightened from the intensity of the previous battle. Your emotions were also swirling, Ban had been in danger before, and the thought of losing him had somehow shattered your heart to an extent you hadn’t expected to be possible.

His large, calloused hands took hold of your hips next, steadying your entrance to align with his cock.

“Be the good girl for me that you always are.”

Squeezing your eyes shut in obedience, Ban hoisted your legs up farther and around his waist. With a snap of his hips, he was buried deep inside your pussy—only groans of ecstasy leaving his lips at the way your walls held onto him so tightly.

You arched your back again in response, arms reaching out for something to grab onto, his cock sheathed deeply inside you, past the places his fingers couldn't reach. Just as you began to gasp from the pain of his size, Ban clamped his hand over your mouth and flattened your body against the counter.

"Mph!" Your cries of pleasure only heard by the man who was causing them. He thrusted in and out quickly, light moans escaping his lips each time he pounded into you.

Your screams were muffled into his hands. "F-fuck... Ban...!" You latched onto him as his thrusts reached deeper, your body shaking from the power. All you could hear was the sound of his skin slapping against yours, remaining quiet, taking all of his strength as each thrust promised him unmatched ecstasy.

Ban looped one of his arms around your torso and pulled you up towards him. Your lips met him in a kiss, one that was sloppy and rough, but one that sent a wave of burning passion down your spine.

“I love you…” You whimpered with each gasp. “I love you Ban, only you can make me feel…”

“I know.” The Fox Sin grunted, sliding you off the bar and into his arms alone.

You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut from the intense amount of pressure. "Oh my god.." you lamented, grasping his shoulders for support. You sunk down on him until it was painful, until you were full with his twitching length.

You were dripping, making it easy for Ban to thrust as softly as he could. He gripped your ass, cursing loudly as you bounced on top of his cock. You moaned his name over and over again, a stream of curses following as your body began to tremble on the verge of your inevitable orgasm.

“That’s it.” Ban encouraged, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Come all over me like you always want to.”

His pace gradually gained speed, causing you to lose yourself completely. For support, your arms reached up to curl around his neck, one hand finding basis in his hair and the other digging into his shoulder blade.

"Ban!" You whimpered loudly, on the verge of screaming out in pleasure, the motion and the length of his cock sheathed inside you becoming too much to handle in the helpless position.

“I’m cumming…” You threw your head back, choking out the confession as your thighs twitched in response.

"That’s it… you’re so fucking tight." Ban grunted through clenched teeth, sweat beginning to gather on his forehead from his erratic, yet rhythmic movements. Though you had become limp from your orgasm, he continued his pace, his thrusts became harder and faster, both of your moans mixing in with the others as Ban started to reach his high. "Say my name.." The baritone in his voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Ban!" You whined at the feeling of him so deep inside you, each plunge causing your entire body to bounce violently against him. Barely having time to recover from your last orgasm, you felt yourself climbing higher and higher, your walls tightening. "Ban...oh my god!!" You finally yelled, unable to control yourself from the quick pace, causing you to orgasm once again all over his cock.

“Yeah…Fuck yeah.” The fox sin whispered. “I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Please…” You begged, somewhat terrified of the repercussions of letting him finally consummate your relationship. Ban had never released inside of you, but at this point, you were physically hurting for his seed.

“I love you.” Ban moaned, thrusting into you one last time before following through with his promise. You felt his seed shoot through you, causing you to shudder. Your eyes met Ban’s, red eyes rolling back, relief engulfing his expression.

Breathing heavily, Ban set you back against the counter gently. Your legs shook as he slowly pulled his length out, warm liquid immediately dripping from your entrance. A few minutes passed in silence, the two of you reminiscing of the sinful acts that had just taken place.

Neither of you had to outwardly admit that you had just participated in the best sex of your lives.

“Sleep with me tonight.” You said, tiredness washing over you within seconds. Sex with Ban had always been quick and secretive. Now, you wanted to wake up next to him and not regret a single thing. You wanted his arms wrapped around you all night, the safest position you could ever hope for.

Ban bent down and picked up your clothes from the ground. Handing them to you with a smile, he shook his head, managing to laugh. “I was going to whether you asked for it or not.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, snatching the garments away from him. The Fox Sin had genuinely smiled. You could only remember him doing so a handful of times, most of them masking an alternative motive. But this one was unmasked, truthful, and loving.

Without another word between the two of you, Ban whisked you away in his arms and carried you into his bedroom. And from that night onwards, that's where you found yourself every night.

#ban x reader #ban seven deadly sins #ban seven deadly sins x reader #seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai

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julyarchives · 3 years

Text

Vorfreude || (M)

Vorfreude (n). The joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

→ Pairing: Yuto x Reader

→ Genre: Smut

→ Words: 1.9K

→ Contains: Smut; Bondage; Tying Up; Teasing.

→ A/n: Since last week was Yuto’s birthday and we didn’t got around to post any stories, today we will make up for you guys with this story! Enjoy it!

Baby, come home! Your gift is ready ;)

That text was a perfect way to lure your boyfriend back to your apartment after you left his birthday party. It was an amazing celebration with many friends and you felt thrilled to see Yuto so happy. But you had your own idea of a birthday gift to him and you rushed out of the party as soon as he blew the candles on his birthday cake. Of course you explained to him that you had to set up his gift back at home and he understood you, his eyes lighting up at the idea of another gift.

Both of you were very different from each other, Yuto was shy, smiling and blushing at most things while you were more upfront about things, and that included your personal life. Yuto always did amazing at learning everything about you and fulfilling your wishes even the most… explicit, so to speak. So when you got him to talk and learned something he yearned for in your more intimate moments, you had to fulfill it for him. Gladly so.

He got home pretty quick considering he was at a party in his honor and you chuckled at the sound of his keys dropping in his hurry to find you. Poor thing had no idea what was coming to him. You heard him call your name, uncertain, after not seeing you in the living room.

"Here! In the bedroom!", you shouted.

Your insides were cold and burning up at the same time. For a few seconds you doubted yourself, what if he finds you ridiculous? That didn't last long though because you didn't even have time to process your own wind whirl of feelings before Yuto reached the door. The scene he found was sure to be alluring, at least that was your goal. You were laying on the bed, a brand new set of black lace lingerie and had one hand tied to the bedpost with an equally black rope.

"Hi, baby… you see, I sort of lied. I couldn't finish your gift because I can't tie the other hand. Can you help me wrap your gift for you?".

"I- w- what?", he stuttered as he took a step inside the bedroom and closed the door shut behind him.

"I couldn't find a perfect gift for you because nothing comes close to what you deserve, so I thought maybe I could give you the fantasy you told me about. Remember?", you smiled sweetly at him.

"This… is for me?" He seemed lost, staring down at you. His hands twitched a bit, like he wanted to touch and you felt yourself smirk.

"All for you, baby. To do as you please".

The small doubt that still bothered the back of your head vanished in the moment he grunted, fists clenching quickly before stepping out to grab your wrist delicately and take a quick look at how you tied the other wrist to the bed and mimicking the knot.

"You look so beautiful tied up…", he spoke softly, almost as if he was talking to himself. You smiled, anticipation now consuming you, after all, it was a new situation even for you.

Shivers went down your spine when Yuto took a step back to admire you. Now it seemed like he was really seeing you for the first time that night, his eyes darkening and taking in every detail on your body. You'd coil in embarrassment if you could. The simple motion of him taking his shirt off slowly, as if he was testing if that was the right thing to do made your lower belly burn in need, if was all finally coming together.

He was usually a quiet person in general but tonight you could already hear his breathing hard and small pants coming out as he kneeled on the bed on top of you. His lips gently pressing small kisses on your neck, getting lower and lower, passing on your cleavage, your stomach and stopping on your thighs. Yuto wasn't a tease normally but you knew you were in trouble when he made the same path again, going up this time, his kisses even slower.

You whimpered when he reached your neck again, your whole body shivering with goosebumps, you were so sensitive already and all he did was take his shirt off and kiss you. Yuto then got his upper body up and smiled at you, his bright face making your insides squirm. His nose touched yours in a gentle caress and soon he was kissing you fervently, his hands now touching any part of your body he could reach. When you moved your hips up, he hissed, his member already hard and ready for you. You mumbled a breathy "off" and he got off of you to remove his pants. Even the outline of him on his underwear made you wetter and you bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together to get at least some friction.

You swore Yuto cursed under his breath but you couldn't be sure, your mind could only focus on his movements, getting back on top of you with a hunger in his eyes you rarely saw. His big hands went to your bra, pulling the cups down quickly and moving his mouth all over your breasts. He let out a noise of pure satisfaction that completely matched yours, each one for a different reason. As he focused on your niples, alternating between pinching and biting each one of them, you felt him moving along with you, your own body rolling and pushing more of you for him to taste. His hips rutted down on your body, himself needing a touch.

He was yearning for your touch but he was so focused on you, making you squirm was clearly turning him on and the fact that you could barely move was a huge bonus. His hands occasionally went to the ropes, feeling them even though his face never left your breasts. His mouth would get more desperate any time he felt the ropes around your wrists and you loved it. Yuto was feeling everything at once you could see but you were also on the clouds, especially with him abruptly stopping everything to take your panties down, exposing your core. Everything was so fast that you barely registered it, he was in charge and he was owning it, leaving you gasping, wet and hot for him.

His fingers found your clit and your entrance at once, you moaned loudly in surprise and pleasure, your eyes never leaving his. When he pulled his underwear down to expose his member and started to pump it in sync with his fingers in you, you nearly lost it, hips bucking widely.

"Yuto, please", you whimpered. His answer was to move faster, and to your surprise, he smirked down at you.

"What was that?", he said slowly, his voice thundering in the room.

"Oh, shit", you couldn't help swearing, were there anything on this man that didn't turn you on even more? "Please get inside me, please. I can't even move to help out, I'm all at your mercy, baby, please".

"I know you are, Y/N", he took his fingers out of you and used your juices that coated his hand to lube himself up. "Why do you think I wanted you tied up for me? Now that I know what we can do, I may get addicted", he was stroking himself lazily, teasing. He knew how much you wanted him but couldn't do anything and that was clearly turning him on.

His facade didn't last long, between your whines and moans to the amazing sight in front of you and his own grunts while he jerked himself to your body exposed to him, both of you couldn't wait any longer. He quickly got rid of his underwear completely and positioned himself at your entrance. At that moment you almost regret being tied up because nothing you did could get his member inside of you quick enough. Yuto chuckled at your failed attempts to move your hips down but quickly got his serious look on as he - finally - entered you.

With how much stimulation you got and how the whole situation was very sensual to you both, you knew it wouldn't last long until you both exploded. His movements were perfect against your core, his body moved with so much want that the bed started to make noise but you didn't even care. Yuto didn't care either, his thrusts hard and deep, just like he knew you loved it. He kissed you like you were air and he needed you more than anything else and you were drunk on his lips. You pulled on your restraints, desperate to touch him, to do something other than battle with the ropes to get more of him. He smiled at you, eyes squinting shut either from that or from pleasure at how you were squeezing him just right. Sweat gathered at his forehead and some dropped on his torso, making you want to touch his chest more than ever.

"Untie me", you didn't know if you plead or ordered but you needed out. Now. His thrusts got faster then, his nails marking your waist.

"No", he breathed out, eyes never stopping admiring your body. When he gazed into your eyes, you could see all his instincts and want for you. "You can only be out of them when I say so".

You gasped at that, you were fucked in every sense of the word and you were crazy for it. Suddenly Yuto slowed his pace, clearly fighting his own will to keep going.

"A-are you hurt, Y/N? I can untie you, sorry if that's what you mean-", he started to babble and reach for the ropes. You yanked your arms, trying to get out of reach.

"No! No, I want this, please. I just wanted to touch you, please don't stop now".

His grunt was everything you needed to hear before closing your eyes and moan at the sensation of him moving once again. How could he be devouring you in a second and the next be the sweetheart he always was? No wonder you were mad in love with him. Yuto made your mind clear of any thought when he reached down to rub your clit along with his thrusts, and that got you by surprise. You shouted his name and mere minutes after you were climaxing on his fingers and member, clenching around him and making a mess out of the bed sheets. Apparently that was he needed as he came seconds later, grunting loudly and shaking with you, scratching your sides to hold onto something.

When Yuto came down from his high and so did you, you could hear him laugh quietly and then mumble soft thank yous as he kissed your face. It tickled and it made your heart soften, you truly wished you could hug him. Which reminded you of something.

"Hey, babe. I don't wanna cut the vibe but my arms are hurting from staying up so much", you chuckled at his desperate face, quickly untying the knots and kissing your now marked wrists.

"Do you think your arms will be better in, say, half an hour?", he said in a low voice, still kissing them.

"Half an hour, babe? I don't know. Why?", he couldn't mean what you thought, right?... right?

He smiled at you and got up excited.

"I'll get us some energy drinks and water!".

You laughed at his big figure almost hoping out of the bedroom, naked, whistling in excitement. He was really amusing sometimes.

"Is it bad to ask for a round two of my gift?", he came back with the drinks and handed some to you.

Your only answer was to give him the ropes and smile.

"Be my guest, birthday boy".

94 notes · View notes

twinkleton · 4 years

Text

at the end of the century - douxie x reader

Whew, this was a douzy to write! I'm so sorry about the wait, maybe it's length will make up for it! This is part two to my last fic, so be sure to give the first part a read if ya haven't! I wanted to include a familiar for the reader, but it just didn't make sense for the story. I'll happily write another fic that has a reader with one if anyone would like! Also, to avoid confusion, this takes place during the "first" battle at killahead. No time travel going on yet, obviously it's changed to where Douxie is involved in the fight. Hope you guys like it!

Tags: @purplesinnerw @clarencebells

As per usual for Camelot, its streets were bustling with its citizens up bright and early for morning shopping. Traders were bartering their newfound treasures, and parents were buying food and supply for their families. For Y/N however, she was neither a trader or a member of a family. She had nothing, except her magic. Of course she felt terrible tricking people into looking the other way while she grabbed onto a loaf of bread or an extra shirt she’d need, but in order to survive it’s what she had to do. After a while, the guilt can subside. She’d rather be doing this than have to rely on anyone ever again.

Still, as she leaned back against a wall, taking a bite out an apple she’d taken earlier, she couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of a little girl on top of her father’s shoulders, laughing along with her mother without a care in the world. She’d argued it was because of having to look at someone so privileged, but really it was because of having to look at someone so loved.

---------

Three years later,

Tensions had reached their peak between Morgana and King Arthur, and a war was about to begin against Gunmar and his army of Gumm-Gumms. Morgana had had enough of his mistreatment of magical creatures, therefore her loyalty to him was hanging by a thread. It didn’t seem enough that Arthur seeked help from the trolls of Dyoza, as she believed he only saw them as pawns.

Back in Merlin’s study, him, Douxie, and Archie were discussing how to prepare for the upcoming battle, more specifically, what to do about Y/N.

“No, we are not leaving her here!” Douxie shouts at Merlin. Archie gives him a concerned look.

“Douxie…” he says, trying to calm his friend.

“No, Y/N has never given us any reason to doubt her. How could you suggest such an idea as to lock her up until the battle is over? What has she ever done to deserve that?!”

“Hisirdoux, this is not about what she has done, but she potentially could do. We know how close she is to Morgana, and Morgana will say or do anything to persuade her to be on her side. With Y/N she has an advantage, an extra card in her deck. Keeping her here is only a precaution. It’s a way to keep Y/N safe and to keep Morgana from being stronger,” Merlin explains.

Douxie isn’t convinced by that. He knows Y/N. He knows that she would not want to be stuck here while the rest of them go off and risk their lives for Camelot. And if Morgana sees her on their side, maybe Y/N could be the one to convince her to stop.

“Clearly you’ve forgotten that she was the one that stopped me from bringing dark shadows into Camelot. Ever since she’s been here she’s done nothing except be the kindest and most understanding out of all of us. There’s nothing Morgana could say or do that would convince her to go against that.”

“I’m with Douxie,” Archie agrees. “Surely Merlin, you can have a little more faith in the girl. And with her training from Morgana, she could be our biggest asset against her and Gunmar.”

Douxie gives him a scratch behind the ear, silently thanking him. Archie beams at him.

Merlin gives a sigh in defeat, not willing to argue anymore about the subject. “Alright, we won’t keep her here. However, should she side with Morgana, I fear her safety will be gravely-”

“What are the three of you up to?” As if summoned by them talking about her, Y/N walks in.

All three of them stop in their tracks, faces blanched.

Douxie decides to sacrifice himself in explaining. “N-nothing Y/N! We were just uh..trying to calm down Archie! You know him, always been a scaredy-cat,” he nervously chuckles, picking up Archie and frantically petting him. Archie’s face screams unenthused.

“Ah yes, frightened I am.”

Y/N giggles at the absurdity going on. She walks over to Douxie, saving Archie from him. He relaxes in her arms, belly exposed for Y/N to give light scritches.

“Aw, it’s alright, Arch. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you, okay?” she playfully reassures. Despite obviously not needing the comfort, Archie purrs at that. Much like everyone she’s come across since being here, Archie full-heartedly loved her.

Merlin takes the opportunity to leave the room. “I must go. There’s still much to be done before the battle.” He stops at the door, turning to look at Y/N. “We all trust you, Y/N. Please, don’t let that be a mistake.”

She understands what he meant by that, and stays silent. Merlin takes his leave.

Douxie glares at where Merlin was standing moments ago. “Don’t listen to him. We know you’d make the right call with Morgana.”

Y/N lets Archie out of her arms, the familiar jumping onto the table. “I don’t know what to do. Morgana is adamant that Arthur will never see through his hatred with magickind.”

“Don’t you see Y/N? This is the only way to stop my brother and his tyranny.” Morgana had been hiding away, deep in the forest. The only person she trusted with her location was Y/N, on the condition that she swore not to reveal it to anyone else, or else their lives would be the first one targeted in the upcoming war. Y/N agreed to the terms.

“And you honestly believe Camelot or the world even would be safer with someone like Gunmar? Once he defeats Arthur, there would be nothing to stop him from conquering everyone, including you. The world would be in shambles,” Y/N insists. It pained her heart arguing against Morgana, the first person in the longest time she’d felt safe with. It wasn’t easy for Morgana either.

“What have I been trying to tell you from the moment you set foot in that castle? Arthur fears us, he fears Gunmar, me, and you. Magic is nothing to be afraid of. You’ve seen the wondrous things magic can do.”

“And I’ve also witnessed the horrible things it’s capable of. I know magic can be good, but people like Gunmar have to be stopped. Please Morgana, you can still do the right thing,” Y/N pleads.

Morgana turns her back on her apprentice, beginning to walk away. “The same could be said for you, my dear.”

Despite her best efforts, Y/N can’t stop a tear from falling out of her eye. Douxie immediately walks over to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m afraid, Doux,” she admits, grabbing onto the front of his tunic. “I spent years not trusting anyone, fending for myself, and the whole time I was so lonely.” Soft whimpers could be heard coming from her.

Douxie begins softly petting the back of her head, patiently waiting for her to continue.

“Morgana was the one who saved me from that life, who gave me hope. She felt like the mother I never had.”

She slightly pulls away from Douxie, wanting to look at him. Looking into her grief-stricken eyes made Douxie almost want to agree to Merlin’s plan of keeping her here, just so she wouldn’t have to face Morgana. He knows she wouldn’t want to do that however.

“What if she’s gone after this? Will I be left all alone again?” Deep down she knows she wouldn’t be alone, but her paranoia was telling her other things.

“Never,” Douxie assures. He pushes her hair away from her face, pressing his hands against her cheeks. “I promise, darling. You will never feel alone ever again,” he swears. Y/N’s fears melt away with his words, her eyes refusing to leave his. They didn’t notice how close they had gotten until Archie interrupted. He hops onto Douxie’s shoulders, causing him to let go of Y/N in order to regain his balance. He lets out a huff of annoyance, with Archie giving him a cheeky smile.

“Don’t worry dear Y/N. No matter what happens, Doux and I will always be here for you.” She smiles at that, giving Archie a loving pat on his head.

“Thank you, Archie,” she says, looking back at Douxie to grin at him, implying that their moment wasn’t finished. Douxie gets the hint.

--------

Deya slams her amulet into the bridge, opening up the portal to seal away Gunmar and his army. Y/N had stayed with the trolls of Dyoza to help them against the Gumm-Gumms, leaving Merlin, Douxie, and Archie to defeat Morgana.

The fight had gone too long for Merlin who was injured, weakening his magic. Archie had been knocked out earlier by a strong blow from Morgana. Douxie was holding his own despite Morgana being far stronger than him, however it didn’t last long.

Pushing her hands away from her, a huge burst of dark wind cascaded the arena they were in, leaving Douxie and Merlin blind. Morgana seized the opportunity to trap them, tying them up in rope created by her magic. They struggled against them, but there was no use. Morgana started cackling with glee, believing she bested them.

“You fools! You should’ve known better than to go against me. You wasted your lives trying to protect my cowardly brother, and now all your squabbling will be for nothing!” Morgana rises into the air and raises her hand, a strong light pulsing from it, no doubt from her charging her final blow against them.

Douxie frantically looks around for any sign of help or weapon to use. Finding nothing, his last resort is to use words.

“Morgana! Think about Y/N! You know she doesn’t want this!” he shouts, desperation clear in his words.

“Don’t act as if you care about what she wants! You only see her as your puppet, another pawn for you to use! She and all magickind will finally be free once all of you are gone!” A final pulse comes from her hand, the light so bright it hurts to even glance at. All hope deferred, Douxie’s final wish was for the truth to be heard.

“You’re wrong! Y/N was the reason I changed for the better! I used to be whiny and immature-”

“Hisirdoux! Now’s not the time for a heart to heart!” Merlin interrupts.

Douxie ignores him, “I used to be bitter about the hand I was given, but Y/N gave me a reason to be grateful for what I had! She’s the brightest out of all of us, and I’m so, so lucky to have met her, befriended her, and fallen in love with her!” A wave of peace fills Douxie, accepting his fate.

His words have left Morgana speechless. Doubt floods her mind, for the first time since this battle began. However, she snaps back into her fury.

“Very well, you can die with a peace of mind. I’ll tell Y/N all about your feelings for her while she grieves over your dead body,” she maliciously answers. She throws her hand down, an enormous beam of light launches from her hand.

Douxie closes his eyes, waiting for the feeling of burning skin to come, but it never does.

“There won’t be any need for that, Morgana!”

He recognizes that voice, and his eyes shoot open. The ground beneath them shakes, as Y/N throws up a shield so large, it sends Morgana’s magic flying all across the other side of the room, most of it hitting Morgana herself. She lets out a cry, falling to the floor.

Y/N sprints over to Merlin and Douxie, freeing them from the ropes.

Douxie gleefully says, “Y/N! You made it! You’re okay- how much of that did you hear?”

Y/N giggles, “Just that last bit. You know, the important bit.”

Douxie lets out an embarrassed chuckle. Archie, having finally woken up, flies over to the couple. “I’d hate to interrupt this lovely reunion, but we do have a ninth-level sorceress to take care of.”

They all turn towards Morgana. “Right, let’s finish this,” Douxie commands.

Douxie and Archie team up, using magic and fire to seal Morgana in a ring of flames. Morgana growls in anger. Y/N puts up shields all around her friends, blocking any of Morgana’s attacks from hitting them. When Morgana shoots her magic at Y/N, Merlin defends her, the bolt ricocheting off his staff and back towards Morgana. Douxie jumps towards Morgana, armed with a sigil designed to freeze her. He successfully reaches her, and the both of them are frozen in the air, except she has no control.

“Hurry! I can’t hold her that long!” Douxie warns.

“You’ve lost yourself Morgana! Bound to dark magic,” Merlin yells, slamming his staff to the ground, a large sigil of his own covering the floor.

“I have no choice but to seal you away!” He begins the spell, balls of light rising from the floor. Morgana is able to swing her staff at Douxie, throwing him across the room. However, before she can move, Y/N replaces Douxie, freezing Morgana once more with an even stronger hold.

“Do it! Finish the spell!” Y/N shouts.

Morgana screams in frustration. “How dare you, Y/N! I am the reason your life has meaning, I’m the reason for everything you hold dear! You’d be nothing if it weren’t for me!”

“I never was nothing! The only thing I used to be was alone! You’ve given me a family, and for that I’m grateful, but now I have to protect that family! And the only way to do that is to get rid of you!” Y/N turns toward Merlin, “Any day now!”

Merlin chants the final line of the spell, and a beam of light expels from his staff, hitting Morgana at her feet, encasing them in stone. The light slowly works its way up her body.

“I will destroy you all! No matter what it takes, no matter where you go, I will not rest until I’ve ended you and all that you love!” Morgana vows, hitting Y/N with a bolt, knocking her down. Douxie sprints and catches her before she hits the floor.

Most of Morgana’s body has been encased, leaving only her torso and head free. “I swear on your lives I shall rise again!”

“And we’ll still be here to stop you once more, buttsnack!” Douxie promises, firmly holding onto Y/N. Once all of her has been frozen, Merlin crosses his arms, finishing the enchantment. Y/N opens up a portal to the Shadow Realm, and Merlin hurls Morgana into it. The last thing heard from Morgana is fearful screaming as Y/N closes the portal.

With the battle finally over, everyone gives a huge sigh of relief, falling to the floor. Archie marches over to Douxie and Y/N, jumping on top of them and licking their faces.

“Arch! That’s disgusting,” Douxie complains with a smile, clearly not meaning it. Y/N hugs Archie, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Douxie beams at the both of them, feeling so content in the moment.

He puts a hand on her shoulder, “Are you alright, love?” Archie hops off of Y/N, deciding to give them a moment alone.

“I’m okay, more than okay really. She was too far gone, there was nothing more we could do,” Y/N answers. “Now, about your little declaration of love there.”

Douxie nervously giggles, “Yeaahhh, about that. Look desperate times call for desperate measures! Had I known you were just going to waltz in anyway, I would’ve waited for a more romantic evening to confess my undying love for you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“There would’ve been flowers, music, little sweet buns iced with our initials toget-”

Y/N cuts off his rambling by grabbing his tunic with one hand, resting the other on his cheek, and pulling his lips towards hers. Their first kiss is a soft one, with Douxie wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer. They let each other go, feeling the sudden urge to laugh at one another for their impeccable timing.

“I love you too, Douxie. More than anything,” Y/N confesses.

Douxie grabs her face and pulls her into another kiss, convinced this is the happiest moment of his life.

Eventually, they remember they’re not alone. They look around to see Merlin passed out on the floor.

“Merlin!” they both shout, running over to him. Archie apparently had been trying to wake them up, waiting for their moment to be over in order to tell them.

“Why didn’t you tell us he’d passed out?!” Douxie scolds.

Archie waves his paws in defense. “Pardon me, you know I’m all for happy endings. I just didn’t want to be the one to tell you it’s not over yet.” Douxie lets out a groan, slamming his hand to his forehead.

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” Y/N asks.

“Hopefully, soon,” Douxie answers, doubtfully.

--------

Nine centuries later,

“FUZZBUCKETS!” Douxie screams in the air, being dragged along by a mephit he, Y/N, and Archie were trying to catch.

“Don’t let go of it!” Y/N shouts, trying to sprint ahead of the creature.

“Ah yes dear, that was the plan all along! To free this poor tortured beast!” he yells sarcastically, before slamming into the ground for the fifth time that night.

“You know it was your sense of humor I fell in love with first!” she quips. She opens up a portal on the floor and jumps into it, opening up another one right in front of the mephit. She draws up a sigil that the mephit bounces off of, knocking him down.

“Ah well, luckily for you I’m quite the jester!” Douxie jokes.

Archie swoops in and blows fire at the mephit, fatally wounding it. Douxie is then able to cast the creature away. They all let out shouts of victory, Y/N giving each of them a high five.

“You know, one of these days you two will be the death of me. Maybe don’t start flirting with each other until you’re absolutely certain you’ve caught the shadow mephit,” Archie chides.

Y/N scratches behind Archie’s ear as a way of apology. “I’m so sorry dear husband over there insists on putting his hands on me at every available opportunity. He’s quite the scoundrel,” Y/N teases.

Douxie scoffs at that remark, pretending to be offended. “Pardon me, dear wife. But if I recall correctly it was you who-” He doesn’t finish his sentence as he’s distracted by the lights suddenly flickering and then bursting.

“Hisirdoux,” a voice calls out.

“Is that…?” Y/N questions, looking around.

“I think it is…. Merlin!” Douxie grins in excitement, happy to know his master is finally awake.

A green sigil lights up from underneath Douxie, making him jump back. Merlin rises up from it, except it’s only a projection of him.

“Hisirdoux, my faithful apprentice-”

“You darn right I’ve been faithful. Who leaves a guy hanging for almost a millennium? You could’ve sent a raven, or a text! There’s texting you know!” Douxie whines.

“It’s so good to see you, Merlin,” Y/N says with a smile, giving him a bow.

Merlin smiles back, “Lovely to see you too, dear Y/N. I see Hisirdoux hasn’t tormented you enough to run to the hills yet.”

Y/N laughs, standing back up, “Actually, he’s done quite the opposite.” She raises her left hand, showing off the ring on her finger. Douxie wraps an arm around her shoulders, eyes staring lovingly at her. Merlin beams at the both of them, glad that they’ve had each other all the years.

“Congratulations, you two,” Merlin proudly says.

“Thanks, Master,” Douxie responds gratefully. The last nine hundred have been wonderful with her and Archie at his side.

Merlin clears his throat, “I’ve come here to task you all with a mission. You must bring the Guardians of Arcadia, with haste.” The projection of him fades away, leaving the three of them alone.

“Errand boys once again, aren’t we?” Archie complains. Douxie lets out a sigh.

“Don’t think of it as an errand, think of it as another adventure,” Y/N suggests, wrapping her left arm around Douxie and letting Archie climb on top of her shoulders. “It’ll be fun! You’ll see.”

Douxie chuckles, and brings his left hand to her head, pulling it closer to him to press a light kiss against her forehead. “With you, my love, anything’s an adventure.”

--------

Bonus,

“Wait, so the two of you are wizards?! Not just baristas at the cafe?!” Toby questions.

“Yup!” Y/N replies.

“And you’ve been living for nine hundred years?!”

“Yup!”

Steve gives Y/N a quick up/down glance, “Well, you certainly don’t look it.”

Douxie glares at him, “Careful, she’s married.”

Steve raises his hands in defense, “I’m just saying! Wait, to you?”

“Yes!” Douxie barks at him.

“Today’s actually our eight hundred and ninety-sixth anniversary,” Y/N informs them with a smile.

“And you’re spending it here? Wow Doux, you suck at romance.” Toby criticizes.

Douxie scoffs, “Alright, you go celebrate eight hundred and ninety-five anniversaries and report back to me!”

Y/N lets out a giggle, “Maybe that’s enough questions for now.”

#douxie imagine #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #douxie casperan #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #wizards #douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader

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imagines-oneshots-blog · 4 years

Photo

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Death and the Maiden I. Of Monsters, Men, and Torrid Truths

The hum of the Mustang’s engine rumbled beneath John’s seat like the grumble of a disgruntled beast, one with skin made of metal and a bleeding molten heart hewn of iron and pistons and gasoline. Well, that makes two bleeding hearts in this car, John mused wryly, though his was forged from flesh and blood and costly promises instead of smelted steel. If someone had him cornered, a gun held to his head and his hands tied behind his back, demanding to know what in all of heaven and earth had spurred him to offer his home to you as a temporary hideout from that sleazy gangster Ritchie and his hitmen, John would have to send a prayer to whatever god of death would listen to the devil and prepare to meet them soon, because he had no good answer to that particular question. It wasn’t that John couldn’t be honest with himself, in fact he made it a nearly infallible habit to embrace the truth, no matter how damning, but the simple fact was that he just didn’t know. He didn’t have a name for the molten sensations that bloomed in his chest each time he stole a glance at you curled up in the passenger’s seat, your bare dainty feet tucked beneath you, your head resting on the pillow of your entwined arms propped up against the door, a stray curl kissing the silken curve of your cheek as you slept. He couldn’t identify the source of the fierce protective need he felt twitching the tendons of his trigger finger, tensing the wearied line of his shoulders, every time he remembered the crude comments of that lumbering, tattooed thug he’d dispatched in the hallways of the club. He had no classification for the tenderness that ached deep in his chest at the trust lilting in your touch when you’d slipped your hand in his, no justification for why the innocence banked in your glinting gaze when you smiled up at him could briefly stop his heart. Or maybe he just didn’t want to give it a name quite yet, wasn’t ready to damn himself all over again. Besides, John reasoned as an igneous flicker of heat settled with wicked intent between his hip bones, though you were many things, you weren’t really wholly innocent, were you? At least, not in the ways that kept you from slipping into his thoughts when he least expected it, when his blood was up and his guard was low. Before each one of your pre-scheduled private meetings John would sit in that velvet lined chair and wage a brutal, silent war with himself, stalwartly battling the impulse to imagine what lace hewn, daydream inducing creation would grace your gorgeous body today. He was honest enough to admit that he’d lost every time. He’d particularly enjoyed the strappy red gossamer and brocade number you had worn to your penultimate encounter, the one with blooming thickets of embroidered crimson flowers and a wealth of sheer mesh which hid the more tantalizing bits of your billowing body from him even as it bared everything else for his greedy gaze. John found it shockingly enticing to see that deadly color splashed against your exposed skin in a tantalizingly alluring fashion, a stark juxtaposition to the typical rending of flesh and the slashing of throats that he was accustomed to. John would be lying if he said that in those charged midnight hours spent tossing in his lonely bed, his battered mind left to wander freely, he hadn’t imagined stripping one or two of those wicked outfits off of you with both seeking fingers and nipping teeth, unwrapping your lithe, stunning body like a present. Hungry for thoughts that weren’t tinged with sorrow or bloodshed, he’d close his eyes and wonder how your soft, luminous skin would heat beneath his calloused palms, if you’d part your thighs eagerly for him, grant him access to the hallowed cradle of your hips. Would you lick those tempting ruby lips and sigh against his mouth, desire coiling thickly in that sultry sirens voice of yours as you begged him to touch the roiling wealth of curves waiting beneath his fallow fingers? And then he’d rail at himself, chastising his baser impulses with stark reminders that you were so young; a decade younger than him at least, maybe more. And then a fresh round of castigations would begin because that fact really shouldn’t send a searing frisson of heat skittering down his spine, curling devilishly low in his belly, but Jesus fucking Christ, did it ever. But no matter how much John tried to evade it, the simple fact was that even with smudged eyeliner, a tired smile, and dark circles splayed above your cheekbones, you were still the most stunning thing within miles of this shitty metropolis. Huffing in a slow, deep breath, John forced his mind to fixate on safer things than the tempting curve of your cupid’s bow, on the plan. Now that the difficult part of extracting you from danger was done you would hide out at his house for a while - long enough for Winston to dig up the locations of Ritchie’s safe houses, and then for John to hunt down each and every member of his entourage before he finally took care of the gun-toting mobster himself. John had known many gangsters in his life, thugs whose malice ranged from relatively harmless to utterly savage, had done each one of their bidding for the price of a glinting, garish, golden coin, but something about Ritchie made John’s stomach turn. A quiet voice in the back of his head supplied that it was probably because Ritchie had known you, had touched you and tasted you and still ordered your death, and that lack of loyalty colored John’s resentment with a particularly acrid bitterness which held the absinthian tinge of something that bordered dangerously close to jealousy. But John stubbornly shoved that voice aside and willfully reasoned that mostly it was the company Ritchie kept, or perhaps even the man himself. Regardless, John was glad to finally have someone truly deserving in his sightlines.

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633169/chapters/63762199

______________________________

AAAAAH I’ve FINALLY posted a new chapter on my John Wick x Reader fic, Blood and Gold and Bedroom Eyes, woohoo!!!

It’s a staggering 10k + words, but it’s full of delicious angst and lots of John POV, so I hope you’ll like it!! I wrote it a bit differently than I usually would, it’s exposition based instead of dialogue based, so while there’s still dialogue in here it has a bit more of a novel-like feel that lends itself really well to emotional exploration. There’s a bit of a twist at the end, but I do hope that you enjoy!!!

Tags!

@raspberrymama I know you’ll want to read this one, my friend!!

@dreamers-wonderland Hey there, I’m tagging you in case you’re interested but please feel free to PM me if you don’t want to be included in the tags for this fic!

@veryflammabledaffodils Hi there!! It’s been awhile since you submitted an ask to my blog but you expressed some interest in my John Wick fic so I thought I’d tag you in case you’re still interested!! Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in updated anymore!

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick moodboard #john wick mood board

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saevrusarch · 3 years

Text

A hodgepodge-y analysis of why Severus fits the doe patronus very much, why he and Lily shared the same patronus form, and why perhaps the doe patronus might not be the best for Lily.

So, it is pretty much fanon knowledge that a patronus is a representation of a wizard's soul, and everyone knows that Severus' patronus is a doe ━ more specifically an albino doe. Now, I will start by describing my reasons for as to why he and Lily share the same patronus form. From the moment they met, Severus and Lily were immediately drawn to each other; aside from the whole magic thing, there was a connection there that they hadn't felt with anyone else. Almost like something had finally settled within them, like they finally belonged.

A single soul cannot inhabit two bodies, but the situation with Lily and Severus is that his soul is an echo of hers. In the same way a vengeful spirit is the echo of the person it once was in life, Severus' soul is an echo of everything Lily's is. They are two sides of the same coin, so while Lily is the positive ━ extroverted, happy, all bright colours and sunshine ━ Severus is the negative ━ introverted, melancholic, softer colours and moonlight. Severus' soul being Lily's echo is the reason why his patronus is an albino doe; this being represented by the fact that his patronus is lighter, a lot less silvery and more white ━ haunting, eerily beautiful.

The deep connection and friendship they experienced was these two parts coming together, an eclipse of sorts. Now that that's out of the way, I will point out why Severus fits with the doe patronus much more than Lily does.

There are a lot of particularities belonging to female deer that do not match with the personality Lily was given, but fit very nicely with whom Severus is described to be. There are also things that can explain their childhood and why they were so at ease with each other and became such good friends.

Let us start with the things that do match.

Does live differently than males do, they are more social, and often live and travel in groups. In these groups, they look out for one another ━ for example, a white-tail doe sensing danger will flee the area with the white of her tail exposed, serving as a silent warning signal to the others. Each social group is led by a matriarchal female, this alpha doe is in charge of the herd, and warns the others when danger is approaching by snorting loudly or stamping her front hoof.

Here we can link to their first years pre and during Hogwarts, where it was Severus and Lily against the world. Also his great respect and willingness to do whatever Lily told him to do ( him perceiving her as the alpha doe ). Lily standing up for Severus whenever James antagonized him, and how they were generally very protective over each other.

Unfortunately there is where the similarities end.

Social and shy, deer have a rigid social structure that determines territory and breeding rights as well as ensuring their safety. A doe's social status can determine her responsibilities within a herd.

From the very beginning, even before Hogwarts Severus was incredibly aware of his social status and position in which it left him, and he unlike Lily, did not try to fight it directly. He climbed his way to the top slowly, battling his way up silently. He knew his place when he arrived at Hogwarts, and acted accordingly; keeping his head down, trying to make himself useful to his housemates. And when he left, now with a better status, he no longer accepted to be mistreated.

Deer are alert to danger and will respond quickly, usually by running away and/or seeking cover but sometimes lying up in or running into wide open areas where they can assess threats.

This clashes with Lily's very confrontational personality, she would not run away from a fight, standing up to James the most popular guy and not backing down. Contrasting with Severus, who knew when he needed to back off, who was not opposed to running to reassess a situation.

Deer are great escape artists, and that is another key to their successful strategy for survival. Their style of escape is a high speed sprint which puts obstacles between themselves and their pursuer. They can also play cagey tricks: they might hide and remain hidden until the predator is very near, and then make an explosive escape —they're gone down a well known escape route before the confused predator knows it. They will cross their own path — sometimes circling and crossing many times — to make their trail confusing. They will slink away on their bellies. They will walk in water to delete their trail, and will even hide by submerging themselves in the water, using their noses like snorkels. They are also known to run near other deer trying to shuck off the predator onto another unlucky animal.

This here is the biggest divergence from Lily's personality to Severus' and why he fits so well with the doe patronus and Lily doesn't. Severus at his very core is a survivor, everything in him is about self-preservation, it is one of his most basic and core instincts that never really faded and only got exponentially bigger as he grew up. It is what makes him the best and only spy of the Order, it is what makes him 1/3 of Voldemort's best and brightest Death Eaters. He is a master at fleeing, at running circles around the most dangerous and smart wizards of his time and he has constantly succeeded. He keeps allies close and enemies even closer, and has no qualms about throwing someone under the bus to achieve the end goal.

Female deer also display aggressive behavior. Does, like bucks, use the ear drop, hard look, and sidle body language. However, since they don’t have antlers, they use their front feet to determine their dominance. If the preliminary body-language threats are not effective, the dominant doe lunges at her adversary and then strikes out with one or both front fee. As a last resort, the fighting does stand up on their hind legs and slash out at each other with both front feet. Their sharp hooves are wicked weapons, and the does do not bluff or fight mock battles.

This ferocity can be seen in Lily too, but not to extent it is seen in Severus. Lily is essentially a very good person, she is very idealistic in the way that her world is black and white, good or evil. And so I doubt she'd kill someone if she thought she could make them see the "light" or bring them to their side. Severus has no such issues, he fights to win ━ always. And he is brutal, you won't get mercy from him if you cross him, or if you're in a life or death situation and your life stops him from reaching his goal.

And here we enter the post Lily part of Severus life and how her death affected him and his behaviour.

Mother deer know that their presence near their babies alerts predators to the fawns' existence, which puts them at risk. In order to keep her young safe, a doe will leave her fawn in a secluded area, often for as long as 12 hours, distracting predators away from her baby while she forages for food.

The alpha doe of the herd is the one that teaches young deer necessary survival skills, where to find water and food and where to seek cover.

While he took the role of secret "guardian", Severus knows it is not wise for him to be close to Harry; not that he would want to anyway, but it can put him at risk. The sight of them being anything but unfriendly to each other could raise suspicion within the Dark Lord and that would ruin everything Dumbledore had planned. Severus is a teacher, he has been teaching Harry everything he had to know to defeat Voldemort and the trials he’d find since his very first day at Hogwarts whether Harry realized it or not, those were survival skills he passed onto Harry ━ the fawn.

A doe will sometimes protect her fawn if the predator is small, but more often she will not. Many fawns are lost to predators and does frequently must stoically move on without the fawns they produced, this breeding season a loss. The mother-fawn bond can also be broken in cases of starvation in which a doe will drive her own fawn away from a food source. That is nature's strict law for the species: the most likely to survive come first. A doe can make more fawns, but she must be fed, alive and healthy to do it.

Again, a Doe's survival instinct can surpass its motherly instinct, and that is why Lily shouldn't have a doe as the representation of her soul. This is the woman who laid her life down at 20-something to save her child, with no guarantee that it would work. Severus however, is much more representative of a doe, his survival instinct is incredibly high more so than anyone, and he makes sure he is always the most likely to survive. Here we can exemplify Severus pressing down on Quirrel, but remaining "passive" against the Dark Lord and his assaults to Harry's mind until the very last possible moment. Also the fact that he killed his own father to ensure his position within the Death Eaters, securing a more stable financial situation.

The Doe patronus may look soft and cute, motherly even, and I suspect that is the reason Lily was given this particular form ━ not only to match James' and his stag, but to represent her fragility ( which she had none, being a mother and a woman is not being frail ). Though the reality is very much the opposite, Does are ruthless mothers and will leave their fawns if it means they cannot survive. And that is representative of Severus, who will leave any situation that is not beneficial to him, who only allowed himself to die because he had to, otherwise the plan wouldn't have worked and Draco and Harry would have died.

#❝ . I HAVE BLED ENOUGH LOVE → headcanon .#❝ . SHIELD YOUR MEMORY FROM THE PAIN → save .#( listen.....i said what i said )

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chubbyheroesworthyheroes · 4 years

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Oh, oh, can I please have Caspar + 🐷?

Being a general in the imperial army had its ups and downs.

There was a lot of responsibility involved, of course, and Caspar found that quite a lot of it felt like red tape to slow down doing actual good. He wanted to get out there and do what was right for the people, but – apparently – there were rules about that, and him charging in recklessly to do what he thought was right wasn’t what he should be doing. Edelgard allowed him some slack with things, but many grumbled about his attitude and style of handling issues.

Caspar didn’t let it stop him much. If he saw people being wronged, he jumped to their defense. If he could protect someone in a battle, he’d do so – rank be damned! He wasn’t the sort to sit back and watch others do the work for him.

It was because of this that he had rode out to a remote village, word having reached his ears that a powerful magic user had stormed in and taken over the place. People were scared, but they couldn’t get away with this sorcerer practically holding them hostage as he did whatever he pleased in their little town. It wasn’t a big enough issue for the empire to devote its attention to, or so he’d been told when he brought it up, but Caspar wasn’t going to let that slide. It was only the one man, so he was confident in his ability to take the sorcerer down easily. He left his unit in his lieutenant’s care until he returned, sure that he would only be gone for a day at best.

As soon as he reached the village, Caspar could tell that things were off.

It was unnaturally quiet, the setting sun making the silent town feel eerie and dark as he moved through it. Ax in hand, ready for anything, the squelch of mud under his boots was the only thing Caspar could hear as he trudged further into the village.

“Show yourself!” he eventually shouted in frustration, knowing he was being watched. “I’m here to free these people, and hiding is only drawing out your punishment longer, you fiend!”

Windows were dark or shuttered in homes, no people in sight – not even any animals.

“You really are a loud thing, aren’t you?”

A shiver ran down Caspar’s spine at the voice – it felt like those words had been spoken directly into his ear – but when he whirled around, there wasn’t anyone there. Growling at how easily he’d been spooked, Caspar resolved his expression into something more fiercely determined.

“Why don’t you say that to my face!” the young man called back, eyes scanning every possible place this mage could be hiding.

“If that’s what you really prefer,” the voice returned, calmly, a face to finally go with it appearing in a flash of warping magic right in front of Caspar.

The light caused Caspar to close his eyes against the abrupt intensity of it, blinking rapidly to clear his vision and get a good look at the sorcerer who had been terrorizing this town for some time. His confidence shot up again when he looked the man over. The mage was tall and spindly; thin limbs, boney hands and a gaunt face. He was older, hair thinning and age marring him. A gnarled cane of dark wood was gripped tightly in his hands, and Caspar was sure that a stiff breeze could have knocked the old buzzard onto his ass. There was no way he could lose this.

Of course, without anyone there to rein in his recklessness, Caspar was ignoring the important fact that this old mage had completely taken over a small town without any trouble.

Charging forward, swinging his ax wide, Caspar blinked when the man disappeared like a wisp of smoke – the blade of his weapon hitting nothing but air. He skidded awkwardly in the slick mud, whipping around to try and relocate the mage. The man reappeared as silently as he teleported out of the attack, cheekily waggling his fingers at Caspar.

Taking the bait, Caspar tried again.

And again…and again.

Every single time he came close to landing a blow strong enough to cut the skinny old bastard in half, the sorcerer would simply warp out of harm’s way with a raspy chuckle. It went on like this for a while, Caspar’s energy and stamina starting to fail him after some time, tired legs slipping and sending him face first into the mud; his ax knocked out of his grasp as he fell, skidding through the mud just out of reach.

Panting and sputtering mud out of his mouth, Caspar shoves himself onto his hands and knees, sweating and limbs shaking from fatigue.

“Rolling about in the mud like a hog, are we?” the old man hummed, his foot steps hardly making a sound as he approached. “Quite fitting for a squealing piglet of the empire. Did they not have anyone else to send out here but an obnoxious, arrogant boy?”

Caspar bristled at that, scrambling to get to his feet. “I am a proud general of the empire!” Sure, he was still young and he hadn’t ever hit much of a growth spurt, but that didn’t give this old coot any right to insult him in such a way when he was clearly the evil doer here.

“A proud pig, I see.”

“You’ll regret insulting me–”

The mage waved an age-shaky hand at the younger man, a smug look on his face as he chanted something out in a language Caspar had never heard before. “And you’ll regret ever coming to this little village, Sir Pig,” the old man mused, a wave of magic blasting Caspar off his feet and back into the mud once more.

Caspar groaned, shaking his head and trying to refocus his dizzied vision. He felt so tired, and it was an alarming struggle to keep himself awake, but he managed to sit himself back up and shake off the worst of the sluggishness. Aside from the fatigue, he was fairly certain that whatever magic had been cast at him hadn’t caused him any damage outside of a bruised rear end. Grinning at his luck – for the old man must have simply messed up – he made to jump back to his feet and get right back into the fight, only to stumble in surprise when he felt like he had tried to get up with heavy weights attached to himself.

“W…What the…?” he muttered under his breath, struggling once more to get to his feet. He managed to get onto his knees, but found himself hit with another wave of exhaustion, his breathing heavy and…what in the world, was he snorting?!

Muddy fingers reached up to his nose, Caspar blurting out in shock when they met with the round, flat of his nose – or, what had been his nose. Now, it was more akin to a snout, just like a pig’s. He snuffled exaggeratedly, swallowing thickly against the panic that was threatening to overtake him.

Okay, so what? The old mage could do a few tricks, make him look like a fool, but this could always be reversed, right? It wouldn’t be so bad, especially once he beat the sorcerer and made it back home. They had plenty of skilled magic users in the empire who could probably fix his nose in a matter of seconds. This was just a tactic to get under his skin!

Grunting in anger, Caspar settled a foul look on the far too amused old man, and tried once again to push himself out of the mud.

Why did he feel so damn heavy?! His armor didn’t restrict his movement this much, and he was used to carrying the weight of it by now – not that it was really all that much armor to begin with, really. But, after another few moments of struggling, it started to dawn on Caspar why he was having so much trouble. It felt like his armor was constricting him all of a sudden, movement restricted and breathing getting more difficult. It was a risk, taking away some of his defenses, but the feeling of claustrophobia got to him quickly, and Caspar scrabbled to get the pieces of armor off.

Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the way he was changing. The way his ears changed shape from rounded off to something more triangular, becoming wider, perky and pointed at the tips. His face started to round out, too, plump cheeks and a swell of fat beneath his chin. It was only when his fingers started to get thicker and harder to use – luckily, after undoing most of the buckles for his plate armor – that Caspar realized that this was going far further than just an embarrassing pig nose.

“H-Hey, what the hell is happening to me–?!” Caspar demanded, fear tinging his words as his statement ended on the horrifically piggish sound of an oink. With his armor now loose and mostly off, he saw the way that the rest of his body was shifting.

He was getting bigger…

The old sorcerer chuckled as he saw reality smack the young general right in the face, dark eyes twinkling as he watched the once confident fighter squirm and struggle as he grew more and more into what he’d spelled him as.

He’d called the young upstart a hog, and a hog he would be in every sense of the word.

Embarrassment and anger flushed Caspar’s features as he was helpless to do much more than watch as his body was ruined. Trim muscle was quickly overtaken by soft, supple fat. He grunted and cursed as his armor popped off and his clothes became uncomfortably tight against his frame. Stuck on all fours, it was easy to feel the way his body got heavier. His thighs grew thick and meaty, brushing up against each other as he struggled, but then forcing him to widen his stance as they pressed into one another. His ass soon followed, rounding out wider and wider, wobbling as he shifted his growing weight. His arms plumped up as well, plush and fat enough to overlap his elbows a bit; even his hands and fingers had gotten chubby.

The worst, however, was his chest and stomach.

His abs had quickly disappeared under a layer of chub, but it didn’t stop at just a pot belly. It kept growing – out and out, rounder and fatter. It was so bizarre to feel, this heavy part of himself just hanging there, getting heavier and heavier as the seconds passed. His gut bounced and jiggled as it swelled outward with fat, stretching his shirt out as far as it could go before buttons gave up and popped right off, pale flesh now exposed to the cool of the air. To Caspar’s dismay, his chest wasn’t too far behind; pecs rounding out and puffing up, drooping weightily against the continuously expanding swell of his stomach.

It was getting harder to keep holding himself up on his hands and knees, his weight just getting more and more to deal with. Desperation started to sink into Caspar’s hastily narrowing mind, a shiver running through his fattening body as his burgeoning belly grew big enough to connect with the ground beneath him, cold mud smearing across the vast expanse of his gut. He can barely even tell when a curly pig’s tail pops up above the wide spread of his ass, his rear doing its best to keep up with the rest of him.

Caspar jolts when he feels a hand on his head, thin, bony hands messing into his shock of blue hair. The old mage is smiling at him, a knowing look on his wrinkled face.

“Don’t look so frightened about all this, boy. You’ll find I’m not a cruel master, especially to dumb beasts that don’t know any better. Isn’t that right, my loud little piglet?” the old man speaks in a soft and assuring tone, another, softer glow of magic from coming from his palm as he pets the former general’s head like one would to calm down a spooked animal.

Caspar wants to protest, wants to get up and shake off the terrible dream that this has to be…but, as that last spell starts to take, thoughts of getting away or fighting back any further seem to slip through his head like water between his fingers. Eventually, the growing weight of his body is simply too much for him to keep holding up, so Caspar simply lets himself collapse onto the solid mound of fat that is his gut. It was surprisingly comfortable, and the mud was becoming less of a discomfort to him as he practically started to wallow in it like a real pig would.

“Good pig,” the sorcerer praised, ruffling Caspar’s hair before withdrawing his hand, watching with amusement as the young man oinks at him lazily, now finally content to simply do what pigs do best.

Grow fat and fatter still.

#Anonymous #male weight gain #male wg #chubby!caspar #pig transformation #pig tf #this damn thing fought me so much because i still havent gotten to the end of 3h & im still only on gd route #so be central stuff is not yet in my knowledge & i had to go looking a bit online #but pls accept this humble oinker

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grimey--gal · 4 years

Text

Ya’ll are dirty and you’re welcome

He doesn’t dream much, but the few he has had of late have been disturbing.

He blames it on the fact that he’s allowed Chucky to move into his home with him. Every day, he questions the sanity of his decision. He blames it on the alcohol and the weed and the accidental touching of hands or exchange of sexually charged quips. He blames it on the fact that he has not been touched in a long time, and has never really known the intimacy of sex.

He blames it on everything, but it does not change the dreams.

The first one is fairly simple, and fairly vivid. It is the same as it always is, except that for some reason, Chucky is wearing his shirt and the collar is slipping down his shoulder, exposing previously hidden scars and soft freckles. They’re on the couch, which is normal, but Chucky leans forward to get a smoke and then his now-long hair is slipping away from his neck.

It is a dream, which is why he leans after Chucky and grabs his shoulders, gently, and begins to press soft, beckoning kisses along the nape of his neck and his shoulder blade. He wakes to Chucky’s pleased sighing, and is wet. Sticky. Mortified.

He takes as shower and goes to work, but now that he has had this dream, the thoughts continue to haunt him. The idea of it does not disgust him as much as he feels it should, and this makes it all the more difficult. He is snapped at by several customers because he pays little to no attention to his work. He can feel the phantom-warmness of Chucky’s skin from the dream, hear the exhale from his mouth, the underbreathed cursing.

“Fuck, Andy,” Chucky says, when they’re mid argument, and Andy feels the blood rush south. But Chucky continues, and it is not his dream. “If you could hear half of the dumb shit that came out of your mouth! Now help me clean up - this blood won’t scrub itself off the floor.”

Andy rolls his eyes, but when Chucky bends to peel off his clothes, his eyes linger a little too long. Something grows inside him. His heart beats fast in his throat.

He writes about it, and then scraps it, burning the page with his lighter. He knows Chucky reads his writing. It keeps him on eggshells, paranoid of the fact that something in his writing might give away the befuddling emotions he finds himself constantly battling. He waits for the day Chucky decides to use this knowledge against him.

The second dream comes anyways, and Chucky is drenched in blood, hair sticky and clothes ruined. “What’re you gonna do? Whip me?” Chucky taunts him.

He picks him up and fucks him on the counter, beer bottles rolling off and crashing against the floor. His hands become stained with the blood, and he isn’t sure if it is symbolic or just a kink he hasn’t explored and isn’t sure he wants to. He fucks him hard, hand on his throat. Chucky pants and curses at him, begging. His eyes are rolling back.

You fucker, make me cum already. Fuck me harder, fuck…!

He washes his sheets before Chucky stumbles into the kitchen, unaware. He shouts out something about making coffee, and that if he wants any sugar he’ll have to put it in himself.

Put it in, put it in already, he hears. He slams a fist against the top of the washer.

“Andy what the fuck are you doing?” Chucky calls out. He doesn’t reply. He takes a shower instead and he stays until the water runs cold. It doesn’t make the dreams leave him alone. They follow him.

He’s drinking with Kristen and Jeeves later that day when a fantasy takes over. Kristen is mid-conversation with Jeeves, and when they intertwine their fingers he sees his fingers pulling Chucky’s hair, pressing him against his cock.

“Take it all now,” he’s growling, and Chucky is scowling up at him, muffled moaning around him. Chucky’s small hands are gripping his jeans while he gags, tears forming just in the corners of his eyes. “Give me teeth and I’ll leave bruises for weeks.”

Kristen says his name before he finds out if Chucky defied him. He’s sure he would. He thinks about this more than he’d like. He thinks he likes the idea of this a lot more than he should.

He drinks more when he comes home, and he avoids Chucky, who stares after him in curiosity. “What? Did I say something that hurt your sweet little feelings, huh?” Chucky calls after him. He’s drunk, and uncouth, and Andy is already thinking of shameful ways to use his mouth. He goes to his room instead, closing the door, his cock already hardening. He feels electric.

“Aww - don’t be like that, baby,” Chucky is crowing. He locks his door, just in case Chucky plans on trying to come in. He doesn’t.

“Oh, baby, baby!” Chucky calls in the fourth dream. They’re in Andy’s bed, Andy shoving his face into the mattress. Chucky is hogtied with red ropes, squirming relentlessly. It doesn’t stop him from pushing into him, penetrating him again and again and again, until Chucky is practically screaming, drooling into the pillowcase.

“Squeal, little piggie, squeal,” Andy taunts him, the way Chucky has always done to him. “Cry for more. Cry until your voice wears out.”

He wakes up in a rush, panting. He can hear the echoes of dream Chucky sobbing in his ear, pleading for mercy, and it brings him to completion. He doesn’t sleep much after that. He is afraid of what he will dream about next.

He finds himself unable to contain himself some days, with he and Chucky being so close. Chucky will smile wickedly at him with teeth, and he’ll doze about those teeth in his neck, leaving bruises.

If I ever see anyone touch you kid, they’re dead. You’re mine, got that?

Most of the time, he dreams of himself bringing Chucky to ruin, bearing down on him, breaking him, pulling cry after cry from his mouth as he fucks him. Sometimes, he dreams about it being the other way around, and these scare him more than the rest.

This is the fifth dream. Chucky has him shackled to his bed post on the floor, standing above him, grinning. He’s gagged, and Chucky slides the tip of a knife up the flesh of his leg, tapping his ass.

“You’re shaking,” Chucky snickers, and Andy feels heat growing in his belly. “Tell me, is it because you’re scared, or because you want this so badly?”

Everytime Chucky talks to him, it makes his skin tingle. Every time they accidentally brush arms or share too close of a personal space, he burns. He hopes that Chucky does not notice, but a part of him hopes he does, and this makes him feel disgusted about himself. He drinks this away, and he falls into a greater depression than normal, which his friends notice, but get no answers when they ask him about it.

There are times when he thinks that it will happen in reality. Usually when they are drunk and high and closer than normal. Chucky’s voice will change pitch; higher, sweeter, subservient. He will still say the same things he would say when drunk, and is just as foul-mouthed and reckless, but they will lean too close and Andy will think this is it.

But then the moment will pass, and he will go to bed, frustrated and confused and afraid. Afraid he exposed himself too much and will have himself found out.

He is at work and the daydreams plague him. They never leave him alone. He envisions Chucky on top of him, rubbing their cocks together, hair over his blue eyes.

“Scared, Barclay?” he asks, his mouth a crooked smile. It is a challenge. A challenge he wants to win. He sees himself flip Chucky over underneath him, slapping his ass, biting down his backbone. Making him whimper.

“Kind of bold for someone who knows who their owner is, don’t you think, button?” he asks, biting Chucky’s earlobe, rewarded by a low moan of surprise and arousal. Chucky grinds up against him, whining for attention.

“If I belong to you, come on and fuckin’ play with me then,” Chucky murmurs. The bell rings, and Andy is shaken from his reverie to a customer walking in. But his thoughts stay nonetheless. Don’t you want to play with your doll, Andy? I’ve been waiting for you. Please. Don’t ignore me, Andy. I need you. I need you.

When he comes home, Chucky is not there, and he is ashamed to admit he is more disappointed than relieved. Hunger growls in his gut. There is nothing to truly satisfy his need. And even if it was right in front of him, he is not sure he would take it. He goes to his room again, writing and burning his feelings away, bottle in hand. If Chucky comes home, he does not hear it, lost in thought and conflicted.

He touches himself before he sleeps, coming to the conclusion that he will keep it in his dreams, a secret of his own. And when he comes, no one will know why save for himself. The knowledge he will take to his grave.

#writing #fever dreams part two #both parts are on AO3 and FF since tumblr is notorious for deleting this type of thing #cxxxii

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inu-jiru · 4 years

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Tomoe, The Eastern Tigress - Chapter Five

Chapter Five - The Strength of Ohu

The forest echoed with the collective drumming of paws. 20 dogs were running to Gajou and at the lead was Ben. His mate, Cross, remained at his side, acting as his eyes. Even though the Great Dane was thirteen years of age and well beyond the point of retiring, the male still ran with the swiftness of a one-year-old. Behind the couple, Kurotora, Moss, Musashi and Wilson followed. After them were Kurotora’s other two sons, Harutora and Nobutora, as well as their cousins, Shigure, Shōji, Buru and Dodo. The remaining dogs were survivors of the previous battles against Kaibutsu and the human hunters. Though the group was small, their hearts all beat together as one. If Ken said that they could possibly beat Kaibutsu today, then that was what they’d do.

The group arrived at Gajou, seeing the remains of Ken and Kagetora’s shared platoon, as well as some dogs they didn’t quite recognize, huddled together around something, or some one.

“Oi!” Kurotora called out, catching everyone’s attention. “We’re here! Where’s the bastard!?”

“Did you kill him already?” Moss barked. “That’d be a damn shame, haha!”

“You’re all here!” Ken shouted back, running to meet his father. Cross quickly grabbed the old Dane’s collar, forcing him to stop just before he could slam his son.

“Thanks, Cross,” Ben said with a nod. “And of course we’re here, son. It’s time we take Paradise back.”

“I was beginning to worry,” huffed Kurotora as he approached his own son. “Thought something happened to you. I wanted to go out and look, but your cousins said no. Hmph! The nerve of those youngsters! Telling me no!”

“But Uncle...” said Shōji with a sheepish grin. “We wouldn’t want anything happening to you...”

“Bah! I’m the one who’s supposed to be worrying about you kids!”

The two groups merged together, Ken and Kage relaying the day’s events. They reintroduced the older dogs to Tomoe, who they’d only heard had survived until now.

“Such a strong girl, Tomoe!” Moss threw his massive paws around the smaller Shepherd’s frame, pulling her into a tight hug. Though it was a bit difficult to breathe, Tomoe still managed to smile. Of all the Ohu Veterans, Moss had to have been her favorite, aside from her father.

“Alright, alright,” said Jiyū worriedly, pawing at the Mastiff’s forelegs. “Easy now. Wouldn’t wanna break her, would we?”

Ken then introduced Weed and the other newcomers. Upon seeing the young Akita mix, the older dogs grew silent as they took in the familiar sight. They’d always thought Tomoe’s resemblance to John was uncanny but this was something different all together. It was as if time had gone backwards and Gin was standing before them as a six-month-old. Weed, meanwhile, stared at the Veterans with a fast-beating heart. All of these dogs he’d heard of in his mother’s stories, but actually meeting them was overwhelming. Their auras were so great, so strong...

“So what’s next?” asked Shigure after the introductions were done. He looked towards Gajou. “We aren’t really just gonna leave his body in there, are we?”

“The scientists from our facility will come to pick up his body,” Jerome explained. “Unfortunately, they may have to destroy your stronghold. Sorry.”

There were groans. Not only would that mean that the Veterans and their families would lose their dens, but it would also mean that a great landmark, one they’d spent days protecting, would fall to ruin, all because a few humans wanted to play God. Tomoe spat on the ground, irritably. No wonder her mother hated humans so much.

RUMBLE!

Without warning, the ground began to shake. There were yelps and cries of alarm as the dogs all struggled to keep their footing. Tomoe looked at Gajou. The stones and boulders keeping it together were shifting, as if something was attempting to push its way out.

“No...” Tomoe’s eyes widened with disbelief. “He’s not...”

“He’s not dead!?” Smith cried out. “That’s impossible!”

A massive rock was pushed onto the ground, cracking slightly from the impact. A gaping hole was left behind, a large figure emerging from the stronghold. The light of the moon reflected off the chain dangling from his leg. A toeless paw was held close to the beast’s chest, still dripping blood. Kaibutsu lifted his head, vibrant, green eyes flashing with the desire to survive. He leapt from where he stood, landing in front of the small militia of dogs and letting out a roar. Some of the soldiers flinched, trembling in fear.

“Stand your ground, soldiers!” ordered Ben. The Dane stood tall, showing no fear on his face. He had scored first blood on Akakabuto long ago; a little roar wasn’t going to scare him. “Surround Kaibutsu! Don’t let him--!”

“No!” Jerome interrupted, looking at the old male. “Tell your followers to stay back! This is a job for us assassins!”

“Don’t speak to my father that way!” Ken snapped. “As of right now, he’s the man in charge, not you!”

“Jerome...” A new, guttural voice suddenly spoke aloud. The argument was temporarily dropped as everyone turned towards Kaibutsu. The monster was focused on the Shepherd, his gaze uncharacteristically soft for someone who’d spent the past six months slaughtering humans and dogs.

“That bastard can talk...?” Tomoe murmured to herself.

“Why are you siding with the humans, Jerome? Why? After everything they’ve done to me, why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“After all you’ve done, bastard,” Kurotora hissed. “Why should anyone give a damn about what’s happened to you?” There were murmurs of agreement all throughout the crowd. Kaibutsu shot a glare at the black Kai, growling.

“Kaibutsu,” Jerome finally spoke, bringing the monster’s attention back to him. “I side with humans because that's what a dog is supposed to do.”

Somewhere in the crowd, Jiyū scoffed.

“Dogs have been the servants of humans for thousands of years,” Jerome continued. “Going against that is foolish. What you did, however, is unforgivable.”

“What about what they’ve done, huh?” Kaibutsu snarled. “For three years, they’ve had me locked in that facility, torturing me and turning me into this. You were there, Jerome. You heard my screams. I begged you to help me every day. But all I got in return were empty promises. You gave me the will to live, and now you want me dead. Have the humans damaged your mind that much?”

“You should’ve stood up to the pain,” said Jerome in a matter-of-fact tone. Some of the dogs nearby glanced at him, shocked and appalled. Just how brainwashed was this male? “Regardless what an owner does, a dog has to put up with it. That’s the duty we dogs have.”

“You’re wrong!” Jiyū couldn’t listen to Jerome’s nonsense anymore. Everyone, even Kaibutsu, focused on her as she stormed towards the male Shepherd. His followers jumped in front of him, ready to protect him for any sort of attack. “No dog should have to lie down and take abuse! I won’t excuse what Kaibutsu did, but how dare you lecture him when you believe in that crap!”

“Jiyū!” Cross barked. “I don’t buy what he says either, but now isn’t the time to fight each other!”

“Back away,” Rocca warned, his eyes locked with the female’s. Kaibutsu let out a chuckle.

“How fascinating,” he hummed. “I’m glad to see that not all dogs are as blinded by loyalty as you, Jerome. Such a shame that I can’t spare any of you Ohu soldiers. If I’d known you’d felt that way about humans, you would’ve made great allies.”

“You’d NEVER be our ally, Kaibutsu!” Tomoe howled. “Murderer! Cannibal!”

“Your crimes are too great to ignore, Kaibutsu!” Ben announced. “You suffered at the hands of humans, you say? Then allow us to end your pain! Ohu! Prepare for attack!”

“SIR!”

“Jerome,” Robert whispered to his leader. “Shall we...?”

“Mmm.” The Shepherd nodded. He then dashed off to the side, sprinting away from Gajou. “You three, follow my lead.”

“Eh...?” GB began, staring after the group of assassins. “Where are those guys off to...?”

“This way, P4!” Jerome shouted to Kaibutsu. The name of his place of torture struck a nerve with Kaibutsu. As his vision went red, the beast chased after the four dogs.

“DON’T call me that!”

Kaibutsu’s gait was awkward, as to be expected from a creature forced to run on only three legs. He lagged behind the assassins greatly. Ben, aided by Cross, began following Kaibutsu.

“After him!” ordered Ben. “Musashi! Moss!”

The two large males took the lead as the militia of around 31 dogs began the chase. Known throughout the army for their great strength, both males reached Kaibutsu’s hind legs and bit down just below the knee. With fierce grunts, they yanked back. Kaibutsu was forced back, his foreleg caving underneath him. He fell with a bellow onto his stomach. Up ahead, the assassins slowed to a halt.

“They’re interfering again...!” a frustrated Robert huffed.

“Easy,” said Jerome, watching the scene intensely. “We’ll have to improvise, but we may be able to use this.”

“Get back!” Musashi grunted as he and Moss used their combined strength to hoist Kaibutsu up. The massive creature howled in alarm as he was tossed over the heads of the dogs. Everyone moved as quickly as they could, the last few dogs just barely avoiding Kaibutsu’s back shell as it slammed against the ground. His belly was now exposed.

“This is our chance!” Ken shouted.

“Attack his belly!” barked Kurotora, and the soldiers obeyed, throwing themselves on Kaibutsu’s belly while Moss and Musashi kept a tight hold on his legs. He looked around, spotting his sons and nephews. “You Kais! Remember what I’ve taught you!”

“HRAH!” Kagetora joined his brothers and cousins. The all leapt into the air together, their bodies moving in wild, snake-like patterns. In one, booming voice, they yelled: Attack of the seven-headed serpent! Ran Daryushin-Battōga!”

Amazing...! Weed thought as he watched the Kais strike the beast’s belly. The Battouga made their bites stronger, and what would normally be a simple bite now cut deeply into the muscle.

“Robert,” Jerome said, feeling that now was the time to act out his new plan. “Go.”

“Sir,” was Robert’s reply as he darted towards the downed Kaibutsu. The time had come. The assassins had been trained for this very moment. Just before he reached Kaibutsu, he jumped up and over the attacking dogs. He landed with his fangs clamping down on the monster’s chest. His sudden entrance in the fight had caught several dogs off guard. For a split second, Moss’ grip loosened on Kaibutsu’s right hind paw. This was the chance the monster needed. He brought back his hind paw and suddenly lashed out with it, knocking Moss several feet away.

“Uncle Moss!” Shigure called, looking up from his place on Kaibutsu’s chest. Kaibutsu began forcing himself up, knocking off any dog who wasn’t tightly holding onto his body. Robert dangled from Kaibutsu’s chest, but refused to let go. Growling, Kaibutsu reached down, jaws parted.

“Move, Robert!” shouted Weed. “He’ll grab your head!”

Exactly the idea... Robert thought in response. He felt Kaibutsu’s long, jagged teeth clamp down on his skull. Blood immediately began running down his injured head, but Robert hung on.

“Pull me off!” the Labrador challenged. “I fucking dare you!”

Kaibutsu didn’t need to be told twice. Using all his strength, he yanked Robert off of him. A chunk of Kaibutsu’s own flesh was torn off as well. All according to plan. Another yowl of pain filled the air as the monster flung Robert’s body roughly onto the ground in retaliation. Weed and Mel rushed up to his broken body quickly.

“Mr. Robert...!” Mel cried. The Labrador spat out the chunk of flesh.

“This is it for me...” he choked, a mixture of his own blood and Kaibutsu’s dribbling out of his maw. “My part in the mission...is...complete...mmph...” The Labrador fell still, his eyes forever staring up towards the sky.

“Robert!” Weed screamed as tears ran down his cheeks. “Robert!”

GRAAAAAAAAH!

Kaibutsu wailed again, forcing the young dogs to look up. Rocca had taken Robert’s place, burying his muzzle into the hole Robert had made. Kaibutsu quickly removed him as well, again injuring himself by inadvertently giving the dog his power. Like Robert, Rocca’s broken body was tossed away.

“Such a waste of life...!” said Cross bitterly.

“We have to end this battle quickly,” Ben responded gruffly. “I won’t stand for young lives being wasted. Can you lead me to the front of the monster, Cross?”

“Of course, love.”

While the rest of the Ohu dogs attempted to assist in bleeding Kaibutsu out, Cross guided her husband as he asked. By now, Hoiler had taken up the task of tearing into Kaibutsu’s chest. Instead of simply yanking him off, however, Kaibutsu lowered his head, delivering a simple bite that crushed the Saintongeois’ skull instantly. As he tossed Hoiler’s body away, Cross realized what Ben was planning.

“He’s open, Ben...!” she informed him. “Are you sure you can hit him?”

“My nose will guide me,” the old Dane assured. “This ends here.”

Jerome, meanwhile, had been watching the events of the battle, waiting for his turn to die. With Hoiler gone, it was his chance to pierce Kaibutsu’s heart, ending him for good. As he braced himself for the attack, however, he heard Ben’s voice ringing out.

“Steer clear!” he commanded. “This attack will bring Kaibutsu down!”

Cross stepped back, giving her husband room to attack. The other Ohu dogs backed off of Kaibutsu, leaving the beast pondering what was going on. He assumed Jerome would attack him next, but no. A blind, old Dane? Nearby, Ken’s eyes widened. Could it be...? Would Ben perform the family Battouga...?

“HARUUUU!” Ben’s deep howl resonated within the hearts of the surrounding dogs as he launched himself towards Kaibutsu. He brought back a paw, bracing himself for impact. When he felt the time was right, his paw shot forward. This was the Geki Sentsūhi-Battōga. Focusing all of his power into his paw, Ben felt the warmth of blood and muscle as he pierced Kaibutsu’s body. There was one problem, however. Ben had landed the blow to Kaibutsu’s heart.

“Oh shit!” Tomoe exclaimed. Ben felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his head as he realized, although he’d landed a blow on Kaibutsu’s chest, he’d hit the uninjured side, the one covered in a thick layer of fur. Ben had done some damage, but not the damage he’d hoped. Now, he was dangling from Kaibutsu’s chest, his paw partially lodged into a shallow wound. He could feel Kaibutsu’s breath on his head.

“BEN!” Cross screamed as she pounced at Kaibutsu’s head.

“Mom!” Ken cried. “Dad!”

ROOOOOOOOOAR!

Cross’ fangs buried themselves in the beast’s eye, taking his mind off attacking Ben. Kaibutsu swung his head desperately, but Cross hung on tight. Tomoe went to join the attack.

“Bastard!” she snapped. “You won’t hurt Mr. Ben!”

The rest of the dogs followed the young bitch’s lead, continuing their attacks on Kaibutsu’s body. Ken rounded the beast, leaping up and pulling Ben free from Kaibutsu’s chest. Time was running out for the monster; he felt his body growing weaker every second that his blood leaked out of his body. The feat of dying overcame him, and out of desperation, he began throwing himself around like a bucking bronco. He threw himself on the ground, rolling wildly. Most dogs were able to move out of the way and find a new place to attack, though two soldiers found themselves crushed between the ground and Kaibutsu’s back shell. Kaibutsu rolled until he reached the ledge. The river raged on down below, well fed by the autumn storms.

“Everyone,” Ken yelled. “Hop off! Quick!”

As Kaibutsu tumbled off the side of the cliff, the Ohu dogs scrambled off to safety. Kaibutsu’s roar echoed as he disappeared into the chasm. There was a loud and heavy thud, and then, finally, silence. As the sun appeared on the horizon, the dogs of Ohu stood together, gazing down into the crevice. Down below, Kaibutsu’s body was lying still, his belly exposed and his paws splayed up in the air. Sticking out of his chest, bathed in crimson, was a sharp brach. It had impaled Kaibutsu, forcing its way through the back shell, and tearing the heart. The waters were red with blood. Kaibutsu was finished.

At last, Paradise had been won.

#ginga densetsu weed #ginga densetsu weed fanfiction #silver fang legend weed #gdw

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retro-melanin · 6 years

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Home Is Where You Are (part II)

LET’S GET NASTY. This is my first publicly posted smut so be gentle pls. This is basically PWP. Also I’m a subby, bottom ass bitch so that’s the perspective this is written from. Idk how to link on mobile but part one is on my blog. Sorry for any typos, but enjoy y’all!

‘He’s really here,’ you thought. You ambushed his face with kisses, and he blinked sweetly at the onslaught.

“I love you. I love you. I love youuuuu,” you sang song between kisses. You watched his eyes crinkle into a smile, and your heart swelled. Chadwick lifted you up without warning, causing an eeeep to escape you.

“Looooooove, loooOOOOoOove, loooooove,” he sang SZA’s Love Galore to you as he turned the two of you so that he could sit down on the bed. You both let out hearty laughs with heads thrown back and mouths agape. When you both settled, you let your hands snake around Chadwick’s head. You threaded your fingers through his tightly coiled curls and brought his face within inches of yours. He spoke first.

“I don’t know how i went three months without holding you, baby,” he whispered. He closed the distance between your lips. His soft, pillowy lips meeting yours with just the right amount of pressure. You inhaled deeply as your lips moved in tandem with his. You tugged, ever so gently, on his kinks, and he surged forward. What began as innocent, familiar kissing, slowly morphed into something more visceral. You sucked on his bottom lip before diving in for a lewd, sloppy kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming ownership.

“Mmmm,” you moaned, pulling away. You watched his lips chase yours.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re sleepy baby. It’s just been so long....” he trailed off. His eyes following your fingers as you slowly undid each button on his shirt.

“I don’t know why you keep apologizing,” you said as you rolled your hips over the bulge you could feel forming beneath you. You finished unbuttoning his shirt, and you used your index finger to bring his gaze up to meet yours.

“Do you want to unwrap your present? Or you want me to do it for you?” You whispered into his ear. You let your teeth graze his earlobe, and you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Let me baby,” he said with a smirk. He reached for he hem of his baggy, old tank top and pulled it up. He gasped as caught a glimpse of your lingerie. He hurriedly pulled the tank top completely off of you to reveal your red lace teddy. The see through lace hugged the swell of your breasts, barely obscuring your dark nipples. His eyes followed the deep v and rested where the lace finally met, just below your belly button and dangerously close to where you needed him so badly.

“Oooooh SHIT. This is....wow.” He exclaimed. “I get to call you my girl? I don’t know if i deserve allathis.”

“I know I look good if i got you out here swearing,” you joked.

“Better than good baby, you’re perfect.” He kissed you. “Wonderful.” Kiss. “Astonishing.” Kiss “Awe-inspiring” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “Let me worship your body.”

“Baaaaby, tonight was supposed to be about you,” you whined. You wanted to pamper your man, but you already knew this was a losing battle. Once Chadwick made up his mind, there was no sense in trying to changing it. He planted kisses along your jaw. Slowly, he made it way to your ear and nibbled on it. The hitch of his hips told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Feel that?” He breathed. “As long as you’re satisfied so am I.” He immediately started sucking on your neck. Making lewd noises that further edged you on. You couldn’t control the way your hips were rolling as you writhed on his lap. His hands came to cup your breasts. He ran teasing fingers over your peaked nipples, and you let out a squeaky moan. Pleased with your reaction, he began turning his attention to your chest.

He looked at you through his long lashes his lips met your sternum. Gently, he nudged the fabric of your teddy so that your nipples were free. Your heart skipped a beat as he slowly and deliberately laved at your left nipple. He maintained eye contact the entire time—knowing what it does to you. He let his lips close around it as he began suckling softly at the sensitive flesh.

“Mmmm ohhhhhh shit.” You moaned with a quiver in your voice. Immediately he sucked hard, making you wetter than you thought possible. His tongue was making lazy circles around your pebbled nipple. He mimicked the motion with his fingers on your other breast. His mouth replaced his fingers, and you were done for. Between the gentle flicking and long pulls, he was making it impossible to control yourself. Your body was starting to go lax from sheer pleasure, and he seemed to realize playtime was over.

He picked you up from his lap and laid you onto the bed. You watches as he stripped down to his boxers. ‘Fuuuuck i wanna taste him,’ you thought, but that glint in his eye told you he had other plans. He covered your body with his own, and placed a chaste kiss to your lips chuckling when you tried to deepen it.

“Ah, ah, ah, baby. I’m in charge of your pleasure now,” he growled. You loved it when he got like this. Wild. Unpredictable. Dominant. He placed the same chaste kisses on each nipple. Your sternum. Your bellybutton. And just above your pussy. He hovered there for a moment. You could feel his hot breath on your covered clit. You closed your eyes and waited for him to give you what you needed. Knowing if you made eye contact it would be too much. You waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing came, Chadwick was still in the same position when you opened your eyes. So close yet not close enough. He chuckled deeply and said “this lingerie is stunning, but it’s time for it to go.”

‘He MUST be crazy,’ you thought. “Chadwick. Boseman. If you don’t give me what I need!” You yelled. He burst out laughing.

“There’s my girl,” he said fondly. He wasted no time getting your teddy off and settling back between your thighs. He held your legs and began pressing kisses to the inside of each thigh. Getting higher and higher up until he was mere inches away from your dripping cunt. Ever the tease, he licked long strokes up either side of where you needed him most.

“Look at me,” he demanded when he’d seen your eyes had fallen shut yet again. You forced your eyes open, and the minute your eyes met his he slid his tongue out to connect with your clit. You couldn’t help the long wanton moan that escaped your lips. He made several kitten licks that sent shivers down your spine, but you both knew it wasn’t enough. He put your legs on his shoulders, parted your lips, and got to work.

He flattened his tongue against your clit and sucked, hard. Causing you to go completely lax and call out his name. He alternated between long licks that spanned your whole pussy to focused attention on your clitoris. He let his tongue slide inside of you and explore your inner walls. You had a feeling he wanted more than one orgasm from you tonight because you were nearing your first one. Your hand clutched the bed sheets when he pulled your hood back and ravished your exposed sex.

He clutched one of your hands, holding it to ground you. His other arm was holding your waist down. He was in total control, and that spiked your arousal. Another hard suck on your clit made your breath hitch. He did it again and you moaned breathily. It was all too much. The dirty, wet noises he was making, his unyielding arm on your waist, his reassuring grip on your hand. He hummed sending vibrations through your sex. Could tell you were close by the constant “uh, oooo, aaaah” your we’re making so he doubled down and sucked like his life depended on it.

“Fuck, fuck, FUUUUUCK. IM COMING. IM COMING OOOOH SHIT. OHMYGOD.” Your vision whited out as an intense wave of pleasure washed over you. He pulled off as you trembled with after shocks. The arm that was holding you down disappeared, which you wouldn’t have noticed until he started toying with your clit again. You jerked away. Surely, he couldn’t want another out of you so soon. But he was relentless.

“Baby BABY i caaaaan’t,” You whimpered.

“I don’t remember telling you we were done yet. I think you still owe me a couple more. How about one for each month i was away?” His tone was dark and predatory. This wasn’t up for negotiation. The fingers that were playing with your clit were now prodding at your entrance.

“Fuuuuck baby you’re so wet. I can’t wait to get in there.” He breathed.

He easily slid in two of his long fingers and you cried out from pleasure. Once inside of you, he curled his fingers and searched around until he found your g-spot.

“CHADWICK. FUCK. PLEASE. PLEASE.” You didn’t know what you were begging for but that didn’t stop you.

“Remember, no running. if you run, you’ll get punished” he warned. He knew you had a tendency to squirm away when you were approaching another orgasm. He loved watching your hips try to wiggle away from the intense pleasure, and he was obsessed with how well you took your punishments. He dove down and devoured your clit again. You screamed as your eyes rolled back into your head. He moved with urgency this time around, trying to force this orgasm out as quickly as possible. He continued to massage your g-spot while he made out with your clit. It was too much too soon.

“C-chad. Uhf oooh oh my god aaaaAHHHH.” Your toes started to curl and your legs were shaking. “Please! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OH FUCK.” You couldn’t help it. Your hips started to squirm away. He followed you. One of your hands went to his head. The other, still entangle with Chadwick. Still grounding you. Still letting you know how much he loves you. At that thought, you let go. “AAAAAHHH SHIT CHAD. ILOVE YOU I LOVEYOU. fuCK.”

A lazy smile took over his face when he finished.

“That’s two,” he said, “we’re almost there.” He came up and pressed a kiss to your lips. You grabbed his face with both hands and licked your juices off of him. The two of you kissed while your body was coming down. Chadwick pulled back.

“I love you too baby, but you tried to run and you know what that means.” Before you could process what he said, he slapped your clit HARD three times.

“CHAD. FUCK.” Your legs shook. He held your face in his larger hands, and said “that’s it baby you’re doing so good for me.” Something inside you lit up, and gave you a third wind.

“I’m ready for my last one,” you whispered. You don’t remember how or when Chad took his boxers off, but you’re oh so thankful he did. His beautiful, lithe, form hovered over yours. He aligned is dick with your entrance and pushed in. He went slowly so you could feel every inch.

“Fuck baby i forgot how big you were,” you moaned. You felt his dick jump inside of you. You looked up and his eyes were screwed shut. You saw how hard he was straining to maintain his resolve. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by doing a kegel. He gasped and stared down to you. So you did it again of course. He let out a longer moan and managed to look so scandalized.

“What?” You feigned innocence. He laughed and said “wow, I’m so in love with you.”

He started corkscrewing his hips. Digging you out. This wasn’t fucking. This was coming home. This was making love. Your bodies rolled together like a tide. You moved as one. You wrapped your legs around his waist to give him better access. He obliged by sliding in feelings. You hitched your hips up to meet his thrusts, loving the stunted moan he let out every time. He was deep inside of you. Scratching the itch you’d been ignoring for months now.

“Mmmmm ooooh shiiiiiiit” he moaned right next to your ear. “Babe, it’s time for you to come one more time.” He shifted his hips so that his pelvis grinned against your poor, abused clit. That coupled with his increasingly shortened, staccatoed thrusts began the tingling in your lower abdomen. He grabbed your hands, held them, and raised them above your heads. You felt so safe, secure, and loved. He kissed you, slow and deliberate. You moaned against his mouth. You felt yourself tighten around his length. “Ooooooh” you moaned.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. His hips lost their rhythm and he began thrusting wildly, seeking his pleasure. Together you came with the other’s name on your lips.

You passed out immediately after, which made Chadwick smile. He cleaned you up and wrapped you up in his arms. ‘I’m so glad to be home,’ was the last thing he thought before he too, drifted off.

#chadwick smut #chadwick boseman smut #chadwick x reader #chadwick boseman fanfic #chadwick boseman fanfiction #chadwick boseman #black panther fanfiction #black panther #black panther smut #t’challa fanfiction #t’challa #t’challa smut #t’challa x reader

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pocket-elf · 6 years

Text

Separation of the Body, Not the Soul - ch 2

Pairing: Jace/Alec Rating: Mature (maybe?) Summary: Jace and Alec are found out, and as they are breaking the sacred law governing parabatai, they will be separated and prevented from ever contacting each other.

on AO3

Chapter 2: Breaking the law is a pleasure Things are heating up, but how will they be able to keep their relationship a secret?

The downworld cabinet meeting had been long, boring, and utterly frustrating. Alec just wants to relax — preferably in the arms of his parabatai.

Their first kiss had honestly taken them both by surprise. Alec had found himself, once again, pinned against the courtyard stones at the end of a sweaty and exhilarating sparring session. But with Jace so close, energy humming in the sliver of space still left between them, Alec hadn’t been able to stop himself. For once in his life he didn’t overthink it, and simply acted. The kiss had been short, far too short, but with Jace completely frozen in shock, Alec had just taken the opportunity to win the fight and leave before any awkward conversation could arise.

But with the post-workout shower washing away both the sweat from his skin and the cobwebs from his mind, Alec had realised that he would have to face Jace and deal with the situation sooner rather than later. So once dressed, he had looked for him in some of the usual spots, only to find him reading in the greenhouse. He had looked so beautiful surrounded by green leaves, his blonde hair falling in his face as he bent over some old journal. Alec had tried to shake that thought, and, sitting down beside Jace, he had said he was sorry about the kiss — just hoping that Jace wouldn’t be too freaked out or offended. He hadn’t expected Jace to say that he had liked it, or to just moments later be kissing him, again. Properly. Before it could get much further than a deep kiss, with Jace’s hand cupping the back of Alec’s head, they had stolen away to Alec’s room to get some privacy to fully explore this new… development.

It has been an intoxicating couple of months — mapping every inch of each other’s bodies, finding ways to make the other weak with pleasure, and investigating the way their parabatai bond behaves when they are intimate rather than in battle. But said bond is also the reason they have to keep their relationship a secret. It’s highly illegal for parabatai to be romantically involved, after all. Despite knowing the risks however, they have chosen to pursue the relationship at full speed, both physically and emotionally. And oh has it been worth it so far. The secrecy has even made their time alone together more exciting, and frankly more arousing as well. They know they can’t keep it up forever, but they still hope that things will have changed enough by the time they’re found out, so that it won’t matter. Of course, Izzy had realised what was going on just within a few days, and she had told Clary. But the girls were immediately on their side in this, and have even covered for them on occasion, which makes it so much easier for them both.

Jace has become Alec’s safe haven — a place to relax and to feel at home, despite whatever the day throws at him; be it difficult diplomats, stubborn downworlders, or a nest of shax demons. He knows that, at the end of it all, Jace will be by his side and in his bed. And that is where Alec finds him now... or rather, on his bed. Jace is sitting cross legged on top of the covers, dressed in a soft v-necked t-shirt and sweatpants, hair still a bit damp, and yet another book in his hands. Alec reckons he probably spent the evening in the Institute gym, and just recently got out of the shower. At the sound of the door softly clicking shut Jace looks up from his reading.

“Hey,” Jace says, smiling a content little smile at the sight of his parabatai.

“Hey,” Alec echoes and bends over for a quick kiss before turning back around to take off his shoes.

“The meeting took hours. You okay?”

“I’m just so tired.” Alec gets on the bed and leans against Jace, their shoulders pressing together. “Raphael is being impossible right now and I just can’t seem to get through to him.”

“You’ll get there. Just keep at it,” Jace says as he closes his book and puts it on the bedside table. He changes positions, angling himself so that he can look at Alec. He reaches out and strokes the short black curls, continuing down to let his palm rest against Alec’s jaw. “Do you have a headache?”

“No, although I don’t know how I managed to get through that meeting without getting one.” Alec turns his face slightly, leaning into Jace’s touch. “But you’re here so it’s all good. Let’s forget about everything else for tonight, okay?”

Jace doesn’t seem to need a clearer prompt and places his other hand on Alec’s face, leaning in to let their lips meet. They don’t rush it, but instead let the kiss slowly grow deeper. A heat is building deep in Alec’s belly, and he hooks an arm around Jace’s waist.

“Come here,” Alec mumbles against the stubble of Jace’s jaw as he pulls the other man onto his lap, letting Jace straddle him, knees almost pushed under the pillows Alec is propped up against.

“I thought you said you were tired,” Jace teases as he gets comfortable, putting his arms around Alec’s neck.

“Not anymore.” Hands splayed on the small of Jace’s back, Alec lifts his own body up towards him, so that he can plant kisses down Jace’s neck.

“Oh, really?”

Head tilted back Jace shifts a little on Alec’s lap — the friction between them causing Alec to grow harder. He lets out a small gasp which makes him break contact with Jace’s neck. Jace rocks backwards slightly and pushes Alec back against the pillow. So that’s how it’s gonna be? Alec will happily let Jace take charge tonight.

So, with eyes heavy from desire, he watches as Jace slips his shirt above his head, but he doesn’t make a move, letting his hands simply rest against the covers. This will be Jace’s show, and he will do whatever Jace wants. But he can’t stop from trembling as Jace slowly unbuttons Alec’s dress shirt while, probably not even aware of it, licking his lips. Deft hands push the fabric to the side, roving over Alec’s exposed skin. Then Jace bends down, taking a pink nipple in his mouth, and Alec bucks under him. In response, Jace presses himself harder against Alec to keep him still, which only makes the charged heat between them more intense.

When Jace moves to the other nipple, letting the now seemingly cold air wash over the first, Alec draws in a sharp breath, keeping himself still with all the willpower left inside him. And with Jace accompanying his oral ministrations with small circular movements of his hips, grinding their still cloth covered erections together, Alec has to bite down hard on his lip to not cry out. A whimper still escapes and Jace looks up at him.

“Shhh, don’t let the rest of the Institute know what I’m doing to you,” Jace whispers hoarsely.

Alec bites down even harder on his bottom lip, tasting blood, and nods. He closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Jace trailing kisses up his chest and neck. When warm lips meet his, Alec can taste copper mingling with that unique taste of Jace he’s come to love with his entire being. Fiercely claiming Alec’s mouth with his, Jace simultaneously rakes his nails over Alec’s parabatai rune, sending a sharp spike of pleasure through Alec. He gasps audibly.

“I can’t take this anymore, Jace. Please, just…”

“Patience,” Jace replies with a wicked smile and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Alec can only groan with sexual frustration as Jace, instead of reclaiming Alec’s mouth, traces his deflect rune with the tip of his tongue, kissing and sucking where the black line dips into the hollow of Alec’s neck. It is simply too much.

Alec can’t keep his hands off Jace anymore. He just needs to feel him. And to Alec’s relief Jace doesn’t protest when Alec lets his hands wander from his waist to the small of his back, and finally under the waistband of Jace’s sweatpants. Alec smiles a little as he feels Jace tense under his palms, and his breath hitch against the skin of his neck.

Literally aching for release, Alec lets out a moan as he finally feels Jace’s right hand make its way down to where their hips are pressed together, unzipping the now all too tight jeans. When nimble fingers reach into his underwear, Alec can’t help but dig his nails into Jace’s skin, eliciting a moan from Jace in return.

Just as Jace is about to close his hand around the base of Alec, the bedroom door bangs open. They fly apart, and for a horrifying moment Alec locks eyes with his father, standing in the doorway.

“What are you two doing?!” Robert bellows, his face turning a deep red.

Both Jace and Alec are quick to get on their feet, Alec zipping his pants back up and clutching his open shirt to his chest, trying to cover himself.

“We didn’t even get anywh… Nothing happened!” Jace blurts out, being the first of them to find his voice.

“How long has this been going on?” Robert focuses his steely gaze on Alec, pointedly ignoring Jace.

“This is the first time. I swear. It just kinda…” Alec lies, desperation tinging his voice.

“Enough! Alec, the fact that you are gay is something I’m finally starting to come to terms with. But your parabatai?”

Alec swallows. He feels like he’s twelve again, being caught stealing a confidential report from his father’s office. The mix of anger and disappointment in Robert’s voice is like a slap in the face.

“I need to inform Inquisitor Herondale of this immediately, ” Robert fumes.

Alec can sense Jace flinching at the name, but he doesn’t dare look at him. Both families involved? This is a nightmare.

“A hearing will have to be held first thing in the morning. Son, you broke the law.”

Robert doesn’t even deign Jace with a look before he storms out of the room, leaving the door rattling against the frame.

“I better leave,” Jace says with a shaky voice, grabbing his shirt from the floor.

Alec nods in agreement, but before his parabatai, his lover, can leave, he puts a warm hand on his arm.

“It will be okay, Jace. We’ve been through worse,” Alec says in a low voice.

“I’m not so sure…” Jace whispers under his breath as he turns and takes a step towards the door.

Alec lets his hand drop to Jace’s wrist, which he grabs onto, spinning Jace back towards him and into a fierce kiss.

“We will get through this,” he promises against Jace’s lips.

If you have now read this and you wished I could’ve at least let them get it on... here you go. A kind of alternative version without as much backstory in the beginning, no interruptions, and a very dominant Jace. Let’s face it, pretty much pwp.

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fic #jalec #jalec fic #fanfic #my fic #I am kinda sorry about this actually #but i fixed it #sort of

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azkaabanter · 7 years

Text

Next Time (Solangelo)

This is a smut fic filling the request of @bailci hope you like it!

Between 2,000 and 4,000 words. Rated M —–/////—–//////—–/////—–/////—–

Dark. Dark dark inky dark all around. Shadows hug my aching sides. The blackness tenderly touches my bleeding skin. God, even my eyes hurt, which makes no sense.

Well, I mean I guess it kind of does, when you consider that I’m traveling through basically a wormhole of darkness and trying not to pass out from exhaustion. I focus hard, squeezing my aching eyes closed.

‘You’re almost back, Nico.’ I think hard, trying to keep myself conscious. ‘Don’t you fucking quit now when you’re so close’ I scream in my head.

Now, I bet you’re wondering what in Hades happened to me. Well, let’s just say one teenager against a horde of monsters is not an easy fight, no matter how many undead soldiers you can conjure up.

My head is pounding, and my heart is beating so fast that I can feel it vibrating in my chest. I’m almost there…

With one final burst of energy, I pop (there really is no better word to describe my entrance) out of the deep shadow of the big house. I remain standing for a holy half second, before crumpling to the ground in a bloody heap.

My breathing is labored and shallow, and the agonizingly deep and long cuts in my skin throb angrily. If I’m completely honest, I’m not sure how I’m even still alive, let alone conscious.

I drop my head to the ground and close my eyes, trying to block out as much of the pain as I can. Gods, I don’t even have the energy to call for help!

I can hear the other campers walking around; the laughter of friend groups, the clash of swords in a tight spar, and the unmistakeable splash of Percy entertaining the younger campers with his water powers. But they’re too far.

And I’m bleeding out.

I almost summon an ironic laugh. After all I’ve been through in my 16 (normal) years of life, is this seriously how I’m going out? A solo battle and being too far away to call for help? I let out a breath, and I utter a small sound. Pretty much a pained moan. It’s all I can do.

“Did anyone else hear that?” A voice says. My eyes snap open. Someone is close by.

“I think so…” Another voice exclaims. Both are female and sound young… maybe twelve or thirteen.

I can hear their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel, being cautious, as every demigod should be.

I’m focusing on them. I’m focusing so hard on their nearing footsteps that I almost miss the taste of metal filling my mouth. But then, it starts building.

My mouth is filling with blood, and I’m panicking. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. I try to bring my hands up to claw at my throat, and find myself unable to move them.

‘Oh Gods. Oh Gods-’ I think frantically as the red liquid spills over my lips and dribbles down my chin. ‘is this it?’ The thought has barely crossed my mind when a shrill scream permeates my ears.

I’m nearly choking on my own blood by the time I hear one of the girls yell-

“Get Chiron, now.” She says, before I slip into a complete daze, almost like my death trance. It’s cloudy and misted in my mind when I feel the vibrations in the ground of Chiron’s hooves galloping over to the back of the big house where I lay. My vision swims from hazy to clear as he lifts me gently into his arms.

“Get Will. Now. Hurry!” I hear him say, but it sounds far away, as if he’s speaking to me through a phone…

I can taste the savory flavor of ambrosia when we enter the infirmary. The familiar taste of a pomegranate tart is dulled by my senses.

After about ten minutes and a dangerous amount of ambrosia, my vision clears finally, and my mouth has stopped spilling blood. My wounds are still shedding crimson onto the sterile white sheets without holding back. I can’t move, but out of what is in my field of vision, I can make out the bustle of healers around me.

I look desperately for Will, but he’s nowhere in sight.

An IV is put into my arm once I reach my ambrosia and nectar limit to keep me alive, but I don’t know how much it’s going to help. I feel pretty beyond saving at this point.

“Where is he?” I hear a shout come from outside of the room, probably in the hallway. Everyone in the room stops moving, until the door is thrown open.

In the open doorway stands Will, his blonde hair messy, and his blue eyes sparkling with determination and fear. He looks around for just a moment, before his eyes lock on me and widen. “Nico-” he whispers, sprinting to my bedside and taking my hand. Just his presence is enough to help me through the pain. He looks at me with eyes full of seriousness and worry. “what the fuck did you do to yourself” he asks me, dead serious. I’m a surprised by his use of language; Will doesn’t curse much.

“A-a m-m-missio-n” I croak out in a jumble of stuttered syllables. His eyes harden.

“And you went without telling anyone…” He looks at me hard in my brown eyes, and I melt, right then and there, into his heartbreaking smolder. “not even me…” He grips my hand tighter, and I wince from not his grip, but from collective pain.

He sits straight up when I do so, startling me. He stands up, and over me.

“Guys, clear out for a few hours. Let me take care of him.” Will says to the other medics in the room. They all nod and head out, trusting Will completely with me, knowing that with him in charge, I will do more than just pull through.

As soon as the other people leave the room, and the door is shut, Will walks straight over to it. For a terrifying second, I think he’s going to leave me, before I notice that he’s just locked the door and is walking back to me.

Strange, but I’m in absolutely no place to question him seeing as I’m literally dying.

“W-why did you lock the d-door?” I ask him, some strength returning to my voice from the efforts of the ambrosia and nectar. He just walks over to me, and pushes my black hair out of my eyes.

“Because I don’t want anyone walking in-” he says, staring at me with a look so powerful it makes me almost have to look away. He takes some more steps towards me, and hovers over my bedside, a gentle, caring smile on his beautiful face. “Healing is personal. Especially with someone you love.” He says it casually, but my eyes widen at the words. He… loves me?

Before I have time to contemplate though, a sharp stab of pain rips through my body, and I reflexively arch my back, gritting my teeth and letting out a strangled gasp.

“F-fuck!” I stutter, and Will gets right to work.

I can see why he locked the door when he starts peeling off my bloodstained and slashed shirt, showing him the bone-deep gashes all over my chest, stomach, arms, and even… below my navel.

My face heats up for no reason when his eyes travel over my pale, exposed bloody skin.

‘He’s just doing his job-’ I find myself thinking.

“Okay. I’m going to put my hands on you, and heal you. You may have some scars or minor scabbing over left from the deepest wounds-” he cuts off taking a deep breath and looking at me, yet again, straight in the eye. “but I’ll do my best.” I nod to show that I understand, but my voice isn’t working.

He places his warm, steady hands on my chest and stomach; one over my heart, and the other over my belly-button. He presses down lightly, though I feel no pain from his touch. Suddenly, a soft golden light starts to emit from his hands, warming my whole body and numbing all pain.

I find myself having to hold back moans because of how amazing it feels to be healed by Will; I can feel my strength returning, and my skin regrowing. My wounds are scabbing, and some are even completely disappearing.

Way too soon, Will has taken his hands off my torso, panting and sweaty from the effort it took to heal me. He wipes his brow on the back of his hand, and looks upon me with a smile; I blush when his eyes seem to darken as they rake up and down my body.

“How 'ya feeling?” He asks in his adorable Will-voice. I move my arms, testing them out, and cracking the joints.

“Good as new.” I say, looking up at him with a smile as I sit up in the red-stained sheets. He sighs in relief, before biting his lip.

“Uhh. I-I have to ask…” He looks down, suddenly nervous. Scratching the back of his neck, he continues the thought. “Aren’t those pants uncomfortable? All… you know… covered in blood?” He asks me sheepishly. A blush creeps its way onto my face.

“Uhh… yeah.” I say. He looks to me with a nervous smile.

“How would you like a different pair?” He asks cheekily, and despite my blush I giggle. Even after me nearly dying, this guy can bring out laughter from the deep depths of who-knows-where-my-sense-of-humor-is. Anyway, I shrug.

“Yeah, actually…” I say quietly, feeling self conscious about Will seeing… well, me. He smiles and reaches into a drawer, producing a pair of black sweats.

“They should fit-” he says, throwing the pants to me.

“Thanks.” I say, before absent-mindedly stripping off my bloody pants and leaving me just my ripped boxers. I look up to see Will staring at me, a bright blush covering his cheeks. He looks up when he notices that I caught him staring, and his blush darkens even more.

“S-sorry…” He stutters. I look him over. He’s still looking at me as if he’s under a trance, and it’s honestly pretty strange. Until I notice something.

His pants are… uh… tightening. A noticeable bulge has started to grow in his jeans, and I can’t believe it. Will Solace is getting turned on my me changing my pants. I throw the sweatpants away, the need to get dressed forgotten. I nervously twist the skull ring on my finger at I look at him.

And now I’m getting turned on my him biting his lip.

And him trying to discreetly crack his knuckles.

And his crazily messed up hair that I just want to run my finger through as he fucks me-

And now I’m walking towards him. And now we’re kissing. Gods, this is not just a kiss. It has to be some magic gift or something from Aphrodite.

His lips are so soft and warm, it’s like pressing my mouth to a cloud of steam. My tongue pushes tentatively into his mouth, not quite sure what to do, but apparently doing it right because Will sighs and pushes his hand into my black wavy hair. He pulls back just for a second, his eyes clouded with a list that makes my already impressive boner that much harder. His swollen lips may also be a contributing factor.

“You’re supposed to be healing-” he says as I start kissing his neck. I follow my instincts on what to do; biting softly and then harder at some places; eliciting animalistic moans from him that make me want to come right then and there. “Nico, you just almost died…” He protests weakly between moans.

“But I’m fine now, thanks to you.” I reply between kisses, my hands under his shirt and sliding it over his head.

His own are running over my already bare chest; they trace the indentations of my pecs and my light abs, (the beginnings of what I hope will turn into a fabulous six-pack.) down to my prominent 'V’ line.

I keep kissing his neck and collar bone, at one point biting and sucking so hard I’m sure it will leave a sizable hickey; not that I care. It just shows everyone that this man is mine.

“Fuck, Solace…” I breathe the words as he palms my erection through my boxers, the thin fabric not leaving much to the imagination.

“Okay, just wait a sec.” He says back sassily as I begin to undo his belt, eventually slipping it out of its’ loops and pulling off his jeans. My cock twitches when I see him almost completely bare.

Gods, he is perfect.

“Nico Di fucking Angelo.” He breathes. “How did I end up here?” He laughs, and I smile, his tented underwear calling me to pull it off and take what’s inside.

“Dunno, but I’m glad it happened.” I say, throwing all control out the window and pushing him up against the wall, pressing our hips together and a sharp moan escaping my lips. I recapture his swollen lips and use one hand to pin Will’s hands over his head on the wall, and use the other to pull off his underwear.

I look down for just a moment to admire the fucking gorgeous cock of Will Solace. It has to be at least eight inches…

eight inches of Apollo-bore heaven.

“You’re so beautiful” I say to him as I start touching him, electing little gasps and grunts from him with each flick of my wrist. I run my thumb slowly over the slit, catching beads of precum on it as it glides over. He breathes heavily and smirks, looking me in the eyes.

“You have no- ah! Fuck!-” he moans in the middle of his sentence, to my satisfaction, when I give him a hard pump. “i-idea how much I want to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk for days-” he says breathily, pushing my hand off his cock and flipping us so that my back is now against the wall, and I can feel his hot, aroused breath on my face.

Just the words coming out of his mouth make me want to moan, so when he licks and kisses all the way down to the tip of my dick, you can guess how I felt. He looks up at me for a moment, silently asking permission. I nod, and he puts my head in his mouth.

Just the feeling of it makes me moan his name.

“W-Will!” I pant, my hands buried in his hair as he bobs his head, and I thrust along with him. He takes all eight and a half inches at some points, and I have to resist thrusting my whole length down his throat. “fuck…” I moan again as he swirls his tongue around the shaft, before leaving me right on the edge when he lets me go with a string of spit connecting my cock with his lips.

“I want to finish with you.” He says, and I nod, hard as it is… then, I smile.

“Sorry, what do you want me to do?” I ask him, feigning ignorance. He raises an eyebrow.

“I think you know.” He says, running his hands down my body, causing me to shiver.

I shake my head.

“No, I think you need to tell me.” I say to him, and he smiles, catching on. He shoots me a dirty look that has precum leaking out of me, and a moan leaving my lips.

“I want to come together. I want to see you moan my name when you come because of me. I want to feel your body under me as you jack me off. I want to fuck you, but not yet. Next time, when we aren’t in a hospital-” he winks. “You are fucking mine.” He says, before taking my hand, trailing it down to his cock, before taking mine in his own hand.

Soon, both Will and I are balanced on the edge. I’m panting from the buildup, and then-

“Fuck… FUCK! WILL! Gods-” I say as I come all over Will’s fist, him doing the same soon after.

We collapse on the bed, both panting and in a euphoric post-orgasm bliss.

“So… next time we won’t be in a hospital, right?” Will asks me, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Nope.” I say. Oh man… I can’t wait for next time…

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #solangelo fic #solangelo smut

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imagines-oneshots-blog · 4 years

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Hello my Lovely Readers, it’s time for Work in Progress Wednesday!! This round is for my fic, Blood and Gold and Bedroom Eyes featuring John Wick x Reader!! As many of you have probably seen (and quite possibly be annoyed by), I’ve fallen into a major dumpster for John Wick/Keanu Reeves as of late, and the inspiration has kicked in to pick up this fic again!! So for today’s WIP Wednesday I’ll be sharing a clip from Chapter 4 of BGBE with you all! I have to be honest friends, I got a little carried away with this one…I have 5,000 words and I’m not even through HALF of the plots points I wanted to fit into this chapter! 😲 So needless to say this next update will be a honkin’ one lol. It’s still very much in the editing stage and therefore is subject to change, but please do enjoy, I can’t wait for you all to read this one!! ❤️❤️❤️ Tags: @raspberrymama - I know you’ll love this one, girl! Anyone else that wants to be tagged in future updates, just shoot me a message and let me know!

Chapter 4: Death and the Maiden

I. Of Monsters, Men, and Torrid Truths

And then he’d rail at himself, chastising his baser impulses with stark reminders that you were so young; a decade younger than him at least, maybe more. And then a fresh round of castigations would begin because that fact really shouldn’t send a searing frisson of heat skittering down his spine, curling devilishly low in his belly, but Jesus fucking Christ, did it ever. No matter how much John tried to evade it, the simple fact was that even with smudged eyeliner, a tired smile, and dark circles splayed above your cheekbones, you were still the most stunning thing within miles of this shitty metropolis. Huffing in a slow, deep breath, John forced his mind to fixate on safer things than the tempting curve of your cupid’s bow, on the plan. Now that the hard part of extracting you from danger was done you would hide out at his house for a while, laying low long enough for Winston to dig up the locations of Ritchie’s safe houses, and then for John to hunt down each and every member of Ritchie’s entourage before he finally took care of the gun-toting mobster himself. John had known many gangsters in his life, thugs whose malice ranged from relatively harmless to utterly savage, had done each one of their bidding for the price of a glinting, garish, golden coin, but something about Ritchie made John’s stomach turn. A quiet voice in the back of his head supplied that it was probably because Ritchie had known you, had touched you and tasted you and still ordered your death, and that lack of loyalty colored his resentment with a particular bitterness that was tinged with what could almost be perceived as jealousy, but John stalwartly reasoned that mostly it was the company Ritchie kept, or perhaps even the man himself. Regardless, John was glad to finally have someone truly deserving in his sightlines.

Despite the fact that bloodshed was still a part of his dossier, at least the right people were in his crosshairs now. In fact, it felt good, cleansing almost, to have a new purpose, a hard-won sense of freedom, the power to act on his own will instead of the corrupted appetites of gang bosses and greedy assassins.

John’s mind remained occupied with the finer details of his mission as he drove into the night, his thoughts turning to the tracking of mob members and the infiltration of safehouses as the bright neon lights of the city faded steadily into industrial parks and highways and manicured green lawns. He had just settled on the order in which he’d dispatch the various branches of Ritchie’s crime syndicate when the Mustang’s tires crunched onto the familiar gravel of his driveway.

You were still asleep when John put the car in park, letting the engine idle as he cast an appraising eye over your slumbering form. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers frozen on the steering wheel. It was strange, bringing another woman into the sanctum of his house - into he and Helen’s house - as heavily laden with memories as it was. For the length of a heartbeat John wondered if this was a mistake, if his desire for redemption, for justice, had led him straight into a severe lapse of judgement, but then you sighed in sleep and shifted towards him a measure, the palm you had resting in your lap tilting upwards as if begging him to slip his fingers into the spaces between your own, and John finally had to remind himself of his wife’s last request and admit to himself that much of the former magic of his home had faded. Too many ghosts lived there now.

And besides, there was nowhere else safer for you than right here by his side, with him to protect you, to safeguard you.

In the devil’s own domain, John thought with a humorless chuckle.

Though he’d never say it out loud and risk losing the hard-won status he’d painstakingly built over his long bloody life, John looked upon his monstrous reputation with a healthy measure of disdain so fierce, it could resemble hatred in the right light. Even though he was The Boogeyman, the assassin that every killer feared, a murderer with more red in his ledger than could ever be wiped clean, John desperately wanted to be someone who was thought of with more than terror-tinged reverence, careful apprehension, and forced civility. He wanted to be regarded the way Helen used to look at him; with soft smiles and smooth brows and glinting, gentle eyes that held nothing but a simmering measure of fondness so sincere, it made his throat suddenly tight and his heart a size too large for his battered chest.

The way you had looked at him tonight.

And with this one last job, one final flurry of guns and carnage and glinting golden coins, he just might be able to secure a measure of that once more, redeem the sliver of his soul that wasn’t damned to writhe in the fiery pits of hell for all the death he had dealt.

So, after a steeling breath and a silent plea sent desperately to whatever blood-soaked deity would still heed him, John reached out a steady hand and gently shook you awake.

#WIP Wednesday #Work in Progress Wednesday #Fanfiction #John Wick #Keanu Reeves

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janeofcakes · 5 years

Text

Chapter 105

(A few days later finds the detective and his blogger in Padstow. They spend the morning on a boat trip out to Puffin Island. They both enjoy the thick sea air and the voyage immensely, in spite of the rocky waters and constant spray that would have soaked them to the bone were it not for their rented raincoats. So much fun is had that the rather salty sea captain in charge jokes about the couple on their honeymoon over the boat’s intercom. Sherlock’s only response to John’s startled expression is to kiss him, which elicits a round of applause and “Aws” from the other passengers.

After disembarking, the duo finds a nice pasty shop and then a bench outside to eat. John, who is far hungrier than Sherlock, eats his pasty quickly and rises to dispose of his wrapper in a nearby trash bin. As the paper falls from his fingers, he hears a strained gasp.)

S: John, help!

(Expecting to see a shadowy figure assaulting his fiance, he turns swiftly with his hands raised for battle. Instead of jumping forward to defend his beloved, a smile breaks across his lips. Two rather persistent seagulls are hovering around the tall man, nipping at both him and his pasty.)

J: (laughing) I told you the gulls are out for blood.

S: I assumed you meant unattended food. (John continues to laugh as he watches Sherlock rise and step away from the bench, waving away the birds as he goes to no avail.) For god sake. Stop laughing and help me.

J: Just drop the pasty. That’s all they want.

(He releases the food with a sneer and watches as the birds devour it and fly away. John laughs good-naturedly and walks to his ruffled fiance, who pouts and looks at him with dark eyes.)

J: Oh, don’t be that way, babe. Come on. Let’s get you another one and eat it in the shop.

(Minutes later they are seated at a table and the detective is happily eating a second pasty. John watches with a smile on his face, rather delighted by Sherlock’s enthusiasm. So seldom does he show any real interest in eating that seeing him enjoy a meal, especially one so simple, is a real pleasure.

Sherlock meets John’s eyes and smiles.)

S: What?

J: (shrugging) I love you. You know that, right?

S: I had suspected, yes. (He takes another bite and John giggles.) Let’s talk about the wedding.

J: (smiling and straightening up) All right. Let’s talk. You’ve been thinking more about it?

S: With no case and your incessantly long lie-ins the last two days, what else is there to do?

J: Well, if you didn’t keep me up so late every night, I wouldn’t need a lie-in.

(John gives him a suggestive look that Sherlock returns with burning come hither eyes that go straight to John’s cock and set it twitching.)

J: Damn you for knowing just how to get under my skin.

S: (quietly) And in your trousers.

J: (in a warning tone) Sherlock.

(Sherlock leans forward and kisses him, the taste of steak and stilton on his lips.)

S: Consider it a promise of upcoming events.

J: Mmm. I’ll hold you to that.

S: I’m counting on it.

(They brush noses and then Sherlock pulls back, lounging comfortably in his seat and taking another bite.)

S: I thought autumn colors. Flowers mixed with leaves and berries to decorate. Perhaps the ceremony under the archway in the garden. The turning leaves on the trees and bushes will lend the perfect backdrop.

(John looks at him with fond and somewhat surprised eyes. He lets out a little laugh. Sherlock gives him a confused look.)

S: Problem?

J: No. Not at all. I just never imagined you’d be so into this. You hate this kind of social convention.

S: Yes, but it means something to you and, if I’m truthful, it means something to me too now. I want our friends to know how much you mean to me. To share in our happiness.

J: I’m pretty sure they already know.

S: (frowning) John, you are only making my case for immediate elopement stronger.

(John throws his head back with a hearty laugh. Sherlock can’t help but smile.)

J: Okay, okay. I’ll stop. (grinning and leaning forward, his elbows on the table) What else do you have in mind?

(Sherlock smiles and leans in as well, his pasty finished. He continues to relate his thoughts to John, getting more and more excited as he goes. His doctor’s smile broadens as he speaks. Neither of them notice the blonde man sitting at a table across the shop watching them carefully over his book.)

***

(John looks out over the sea and inhales the wet air deeply. Sherlock smiles as he watches John grin infectiously. He looks over at the detective and extends a hand. Sherlock takes it readily and stands next to the shorter man, looking out at the waves below their perch.)

(The two men stand on a very tall, grassy hill that overlooks a beach. The edge of the hill seems like a sharp drop-off, but it is only a few feet before the ground slopes downward to the beach far below. John and Sherlock started a walk through the hills and pastures along the shoreline after leaving the shop. The conversation and periodic stops for kissing and teasing lasted them all afternoon until they found themselves on this hill. Behind them are Padstow and the docks. A few minutes of walking and they will be back in their car heading for the cottage. Seems the perfect time, in John’s opinion, to stop and admire the view.)

J: God, it’s beautiful here. We really should come back here for our honeymoon.

(Sherlock shifts his weight and gently strokes his thumb over John’s hand.)

S: I thought perhaps we should wait on a honeymoon since we’ve just had this holiday.

J: (turning his head to look at him) You’re not serious.

S: I am, yes. If we wait a bit we could go to the continent. Maybe Italy or Spain for a few weeks.

(John turns to face him with a fond smile.)

J: Do you speak Italian?

S: I speak both languages.

J: How many do you speak fluently?

S: Sixteen.

J: (smirking) Oh, just sixteen.

S: Yes. I wouldn’t say I’m fluent in the others. (He shrugs.) It’s easy for me to absorb facts and details.

J: Really? Well, I hadn’t noticed.

(John laughs at Sherlock’s expression and steps into his personal space. His hands wrap around the man’s narrow waist. Sherlock mirrors the movement and leans into John.)

J: You are truly amazing.

S: I’m glad you think so since you’ll be stuck with me for quite some time.

J: I look forward to every minute.

(John extends his feet to his tiptoes and kisses Sherlock full on the mouth. It starts sweet and slow, but quickly becomes heated. Sherlock’s talented tongue slides across John’s lower lip, asking permission. The doctor’s lips part, his own tongue venturing out and finding its mate anxious to stroke and taste and lick every surface. The moan that slips out is stifled in Sherlock’s throat. He pulls his doctor close, grabbing a handful of shirt in each hand.

Sherlock tilts his head to deepen the kiss. John moans again, responsive as ever. His hands pull the back of Sherlock’s shirt from his trousers and then slide under to splay across his lower back. Sherlock’s skin is on fire under John’s warm touch. A moan of his own passes over John’s lips as they part for seconds of breath before Sherlock presses his to John’s again. His tongue explores and teases. The heat radiating off his fiance’s body is intoxicating. He bends his body so John can rest his feet flat on the ground and then keeps going. He cradles John’s body, even as John supports himself, until they lie in the tall grass together. John on his back and Sherlock beside him, his torso over John’s chest. His hands rest on the man’s shoulders and he pushes himself up to look into John’s eyes.)

S: I want you, John. I need you.

J: Yes. Yes, Sherlock.

(The detective lowers himself down onto John’s mouth again and then moves down his neck. He nips at John’s soft lower lip and then down, down to the collar of his shirt. His fingers adeptly pop loose the buttons of the doctor’s shirt. He pulls it from jeans and spreads it wide so John’s broad chest and taut belly are exposed. Sherlock wants to run his tongue along and taste every muscle, every inch of skin. He stops to look up into his fiance’s eyes, blown wide with lust. A sly smile graces his lips and he lowers his head to mouth his way to John’s right nipple.)

J: Oh god, Sherlock. (fingertips close around the other nipple) Jesus.

(Sherlock continues his ministrations, eventually licking his way to that stomach, tight with pleasure. On a whim, he flattens his tongue against the skin immediately under the waistband of John’s jeans and licks up to his navel. His fiance’s back arches and hips thrust involuntarily. Sherlock smiles against the warm skin. His fingers open John’s flies and zip, and quickly pull him from jeans and pants. Sherlock glides his tongue around and over the head, licking at the slit luxuriously.)

J: Fuck, yes. Yes.

(Sherlock’s tongue trails down the shaft and back up again, flat all the way. He repeats this several times, stopping to tease the head or lick at John’s balls where they are cradled in his hand.)

J: Oh, god. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

(Sherlock swallows him down and sucks, hollowing his cheeks. His head bobs, his tongue twisting this way and that. John’s body writhes beneath him, stuttering, trembling. He knows John won’t last long, even before he says it.)

J: Sherlock. I’m not. I won’t last. Much longer. Ah!

(A hot spurt fills Sherlock’s mouth and he swallows quickly to allow room for more as John comes hard. Three more times John releases and Sherlock takes care of it each time as he sucks lightly, bringing John through his orgasm. The doctor’s body goes slack, but his arms stay strong and pull Sherlock up to meet his lips. It is a messy kiss, but warm and soft. When their lips part, their eyes meet.)

J: Jesus Christ.

S: (grinning) And out in the open grass no less. How do I get away with these things?

(John kisses him again and rests his hand on Sherlock’s firm ass, pulling their hips together.)

S: No, John.

J: Yes.

S: You can have your turn at the cottage. (John frowns and opens his mouth to protest, but Sherlock quiets him with two fingers over his lips.) I want you inside me. (pausing to smile lasciviously) Under the stars.

(A grin spreads across John’s lips. He kisses Sherlock deeply.)

J: Yes, please. I know just the blanket I want to lay you on. Pun intended.

(The detective laughs quietly and then tucks John back into his pants. He does up the jeans and looks into John’s dark blue eyes.)

S: Shall we go? It will be getting dark just as we get home. You can show me the stars.

(He helps John sit up and pulls a piece of grass from his blonde hair.)

J: I’ll drive.

Sherlock

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#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlockholmes #sherlock loves john #sherlock fanfic #johnwatson #johnlock #John loves Sherlock #Johnlock fanfic #john watson

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