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greengoblinswifey · 2 years

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His Cherry- Norman Osborn x Fem!Babysitter!Reader

Summary: You're his cherry. His addiction and he can't get enough of you.

Warnings: Praise kink, Daddy Kink, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Cheating, Age Gap, Oral sex(f+m receiving), dirty talk, Kinda rough sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal.

A/N: I'm a huge lana stan and I was listening to Cherry last night and it inspired me to write this :)

Ao3 link

Of course it was wrong but in Norman's eyes, wrong was always right. His marriage be damned, from the moment he saw you, he knew he needed to have you and from the moment you saw him, you wanted him to be your daddy. You were his cherry, he called you that because cherries were his favourite fruit and he was addicted to you both. You weren't just his four year old son's babysitter, you were so much more. His plaything. His little slut. His cherry. To soften your guilt you always told yourself his and Emily's marriage was on the rocks before you entered the picture. She was unfaithful first and they only stayed together for Harry.

It was a typical day for you at the Osborn mansion. After much hassle, you finally got Harry down for a nap and just as you did, the large front door slammed, signaling Emily's departure. As soon as the door slammed, Norman pounced on you like a predator hungry for its prey and pushed you against the wall. He pinned your arms above your head and kissed you hungrily. You relished in the taste of his favourite fruit and mint on his tongue as it brushed over yours before eventually sucking on it.

"I missed you my little cherry," he said into the kiss.

"Mm- we had sex in your car yesterday," you chuckled.

He moved to your neck, sucking and licking as you shivered and moaned at the sensation. This had been your routine for a few months. He was your drug and you were addicted. You couldn't keep your hands off him and he couldn't keep his hands off you. He fucked you against every door and on every surface in his mansion. Who knew a married man could be this irresistible?

By the time he was done with your neck, it had a trail of hickeys you'd probably have to cover up later. He hiked up your red and white flower dress and smirked seeing that you had on no panties underneath.

"My dirty cherry. No panties and you're dripping down your thighs," he mocked. You whined in response as kneeled and licked your thighs wet with your slick then moved up to your pussy.

"Oh daddy, right there!" you whimpered. He flattened his tongue on your pulsing clit and lapped at it slowly before speeding up the pace of his skilled tongue. "So sweet my cherry, and you're all mine," he groaned. You loved how demanding he was--how he exerted his dominance. It was only right you called him daddy, and the fact that he was older and rich topped it off. He was never afraid of claiming you as his even though there was no legality binding you. In his eyes you were his.

His mouth practically engulfed your pussy. He wanted to devour you, make love to your-- no, his pussy. You gripped his slicked back hair tightly as your legs turned to jelly. Your eyes squeezed shut and all you could focus on was the way he was eating you out. Licking your pussy from your entrance to your clit then pushing his tongue inside you.

"Just like that daddy, fuck," you cried out, tears now forming in your eyes. His tongue now focused on your clit, flicking it and nipping softly as he put one of his long fingers inside you.

"So tight and wet," he purred. It was almost embarrassing hearing how wet you were and your own moans but with your daddy, you had nothing to be ashamed of. He loved every sound your body made and he prided himself in making you so wet he could hear the squelching.

He pumped his finger in and out of you as you mewled daddy and tugged on his hair. He curled his finger inside you as he continued to suck on your nub. "Daddy! Fuck, daddy! I'm- I'm gonna cum," you whimpered. He sped up his movements, pumping his finger inside you faster and rougher. "Cum for me my pretty cherry," he commanded.

Your back arched off the wall, tears streamed down your cheeks and your pussy gushed into his mouth as he continued finger fucking you and lapping at your clit. He licked and slurped every drop before pulling his finger from your pussy. "Good girl. Such a good girl for daddy." He stood up and smeared the wetness that was on his finger on your lips before licking it off. You captured his tongue in a messy kiss, greedily going deeper to taste yourself.

"Daddy please, I want your cock so bad," you begged, pulling away from the kiss.

"Being greedy gets you nowhere my cherry, you know that. Now get on your knees and show me how bad you want daddy's cock," he said. His eyes were dark with lust and his cock strained against his dress pants. Keeping your eyes up at him just the way you knew he liked it, you unbuckled his pants and pulled it down along with his boxers. His painfully hard erection sprang free. Precum leaked from the pink tip and you practically drooled.

He took his bottom lips between his teeth as you licked from the base to the tip. Your tongue ran over the slit, sucking the precum off before taking half of him into your mouth. Using your hands, you stroked the rest of his cock you couldn't fit in your mouth but he was having none of it. He took your hands off and thrusted into your mouth making you gag.

"Just like that princess. Choke on daddy's dick. You look so pretty when you do," he groaned. He moaned at the dazed and lustful look in your innocent eyes. Those innocent eyes that easily fooled his wife. You pressed your hands on his thighs and he stopped his movement, allowing you to move your head on your own. You sucked the sides, making love to his cock as he did your pussy. You spat out the saliva and precum on his balls, and took them each into your mouth, humming and sending vibrations throughout his body.

He felt his balls tighten and his cock twitching but he wanted to cum inside your pussy first. To fill you to the brim and breed you. He pulled you up from your knees and kissed you sloppily.

"Do you want daddy's cock now?" he asked.

You looked up at him towering over you and nodded frantically. Your clit was throbbing profusely and you needed his cock for the feeling to subside.

"Use your words cherry," he said.

"Yes daddy. I need your big cock so bad. Please fuck me," you pleaded, throwing your arms around his neck.

He seemed to be satisfied with your answer and he lifted you up, pulling your dress back up again. You wrapped your legs around him and as you did, he slowly lowered your quivering pussy onto his long cock.

"Daddy!" you mewled, "stretching me so much, you're so big." He slammed you down on his cock fully, giving his sweet cherry no time to adjust to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn't get used to how big his dick was. He moved your thighs over his forearms and began pounding into you, leaving you moaning and unable to speak.

"Awww, my poor little cherry. Can't even form a single word, you're so cute," he chuckled.

His strength aided him in walking to his master bedroom and fucking you as he did. He walked with you pass Harry's room where he was sound asleep and arrived at his, his cock still rutting in and out of you as you moaned in his ear.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and fucked up into your warm, gushing pussy. You were so wet that your juices were all over his forearms.

"God, I'll never get tired of this pussy. Daddy loves it so much. You were made for daddy," he smirked.

"Oh fuck! Da-daddy, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered. You buried your face into his neck as he thrusted up into you roughly, brushing against your cervix as he did. As he hit your cervix, your orgasm washed over you like a wave. You mewled daddy continuously as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks and he fucked you.

He stood up and placed you on your stomach. You tried to get on all fours but you were too weak to do so.

"It's ok my cherry, stay just like that. Daddy will take care of you," he said. You absolutely adored when he told you he would take care of you. It made your pussy clench around nothing.

He slammed back into you, the new position making you wetter and creamier than the last. He got even harder, watching your ass jiggle as he fucked you from behind. Later, he'd lube you up and fuck you in it, hard. He was thrusting into you, making the bed shake and your stomach began to hurt from the impending orgasm.

"Clenching around daddy's big cock so well. Cum for daddy princess," he groaned, mesmerized by his cock moving in and out of you. At his command, your pussy squirted onto his cock.

"Oh God! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" you screamed. The orgasm made you shake and your eyes turned white. He placed a kiss on your back before putting one foot on the bed.

Norman easily slipped back into your soaked pussy, ready to have his own intense orgasm. His strokes were hard, animalistic as his mind tried to grasp how tight you were squeezing him. He squeezed your ass cheek and moaned, watching as his cock came out sloppier than when it went inside you.

"God," he moaned, "I know you're ovulating but daddy has to cum inside you." Your mind was too fuzzy and focused on pleasure to protest. You just laid there and allowed him to use you, as you should.

"Gonna cum and you're gonna take daddy's cum in this tight pussy. Can't wait to see you swollen with my babies," he groaned, rolling his hips. You moaned in response, drooling all over the stain sheets.

"Tell me how bad you want it. Beg me to put a baby into you cherry," he growled.

He didn't need to repeat himself. "Please! Please daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, please cum inside me, fill me with all your babies. I'm all yours daddy. Please make your cherry a mommy," you cried.

That did it or him and long ropes of his white cum spurted inside your pussy. You moaned, feeling the warm stickiness fill your walls. He stayed inside your pussy, allowing you to milk him of all he had. He was serious about breeding you.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, "that's it cherry, milk your daddy's cock, it's all yours. Take all of it."

He was about to fall on top of you before he stopped himself. He slipped out and you whined at the loss of him but you were content again when he laid on the bed, pulled you on top of him and buried his cock deep inside you.

"Daddy's gonna keep his cock inside you my pretty cherry. Can't let any of daddy's cum go to waste and then later, daddy's gonna fuck your tight little ass."

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pinkwoolart · 2 years

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I decided to break this up into three posts. Partly because this is six different drawings, and partly to try and appease the algorithm. Of course I had to finish Doc Ock first! I did both the 2004 Doc and the USM version (the skrunkly grease ball). Mysterio and Goblin will be getting their own posts later. So enjoy this shameless self insert spider-sona shipping with my top three spidey villains!

#oc x canon #usm doc ock #doc ock #ultimate spider man doc ock #spider man 2004 #meme template #meme #kiss meme #green goblin #green goblin x oc #Mysterio x oc #norman osborn #quentin beck #otto octavius #wip stuff #current wip

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miguel-miggy-ohara · 6 months

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The Third Wheel

Poor Gabe

#spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spidersona #doc ock #doctor octopus #miguel x oc #meme #oc x canon #Gabriel ohara #Gabriel O'Hara #Green Goblin #Firelight #Au #Alternative universe #Gay #Fanart

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seconds-2-midnight · 6 months

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Geigerposting at 1am

"My Atom Bomb" is a serious fic about trauma and grief and isolation and dying alone and the fear of hurting people you love and two damaged people bonding over being treated like burdens all their lives ... but it's also about two nasty, weird little freaks loving each other very much and giggling like fuckin dorks.

#x men oc #toad x oc #toad x geiger #my atom bomb #ao3 fanfic #x men fanfiction #x men fanfic #mortimer toynbee #x men #xmen #your honor she's just a baby goblin #she has the same energy as a neon green bouncy ball from a quarter machine that you take a bite out of #does that make sense?????

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cardierreh15 · 1 month

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Web Of Lies

Warnings 18+: Violence , Cursing , Smut , Use of Deadly Force , Near Death Experiences , Blood , Mentions of Parental Loss . (Will be adding more along the way 😊)

Chapter 1: Itsy Bitsy Spiders WIP ⚠️

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666kaktus666 · 2 years

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#otto octavius #spider man: no way home #spiderman #doc ock #doctor octopus #norman osborn #green goblin #peter parker #peter x oc

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green-ville · 11 months

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The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Recluse Chapter 2

TW: De@th. Bl00d. Decent amount of description. Light talk of a miscarriage.

Synopsis: Miguel O’Hara thought she was an anomaly. An accident. A mistake. That she shouldn’t exist. Really, it was his fault for opening up the other worlds of possibilities for her. It was his actions that showed her the multiverse. The endless possibilities at the turn of a watch.

She may not have had the same story, but she was not Spiderman. She had said it since day one. Spiderman is dead, and his enemies now got her instead.

She was Recluse. She would not let Spiderman’s death go unavenged.

______

Black hair that she let loose after a long day of work swayed back and forth. It was wavy from the tight braid. She was borrowing a well worn sweater. It didn’t drown her, because despite his muscular nature, Peter had a slight frame. She wore sweatpants that she synched at the waist to give her some semblance of a shape.

Soft music played throughout the apartment, emitting from the tv that gave a warm glow of life. As she cooked dinner, she moved her hips to the music, quietly singing to herself.

Tapping came from her living room window and the figure must have been used to it at this point, because there was no startled movement. There was a calm turn, a smile, and a distinct fall of the smile.

Now there was a startled, sudden movement. She ran across the living room, shoving open the window that had smeared blood on it.

“Pete? Oh my God Pete, what happened?!”

She grabbed him under the arms, helped him in, but she was expecting more aid from him than she got. He weakly kicked to clear the window, but he didn’t find his footing and she crumbled under him. They crashed to the ground, him on top, her still holding him.

His eyelids fluttered and she held his face, directing it to look at her.

“Pete, what happened?!”

His lips were pale, cracked. Blood soaked through his red and blue suit, sticking it to his frame even tighter than it already did. She pulled off her sweater, exposing a tank top beneath, and pressed it against his stomach. He winced, face pinching.

“I’m fine babe, fine. Just need to catch my breath is all,” he croaked out. She held his face to ensure he was looking towards her, and yet his eyes traveled. Constantly steering towards the side. Never landing on her face. “Kingpin really packs a punch.”

“You need the hospital, this,” she assessed what she could, and that was solely how much blood seeped out. It chilled her pants, soaking them. “Pete you need the hospital.”

“Nah nah, I’ll be fine, I promise,” he said. “Spiderman always gets back up.”

She brushed the dirty, sweaty hair out of his face. Her fingers left a blood stain in their tracks. “Tell me what happened. Keep talking to me Pete.”

She called 911 while he struggled to remember.

“It was. . .there was a rumor. . . .and I found it. . .”

She told the police there was an injured man that needed the ambulance.

He continued, voice quiet, getting softer. “Got him. Outside. Get him. Please babe.”

She carefully set him to the ground, laying him flat. He winced and groaned. She told the police their apartment address and stuck her head outside the window. She found a small glass cage. She picked it up and found a spider inside.

She kneeled beside Pete, returning pressure to stop the bleeding on his abdomen.

“Keep him safe,” Pete whispered, eyes shut. Hand scrambling for hers, and she grabbed him first. Held him tight, her knuckles pale. He was ice cold. “It’s me. Please babe.”

“No one is getting it,” she promised. “I thought the spider that bit you died.”

“They recreated it. . .only one survived. They. . .they had my blood. Venom. . . .Prowler. . . .Vulture. . . all there. . . .Tried to stop me. . . .did a good job.”

“Stay with me Pete.”

“Don’t let them get it.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise,” she sword, tears in her eyes.

“No. . .no promise. The world. . .the world needs Spiderman. . .promise me.”

“Help is on the way. Just stay with me Pete, keep talking.”

And despite her having every intention of keeping her promises, Peter Parker did not keep his to her. It was the first promise he broke to her.

Spiderman did not get back up.

The ambulance arrived and carted off a man in regular clothes, not a red and blue uniform. They put him on a stretcher, she was with him the entire time but he wasn’t with her. He was unconscious now. They hooked up an IV and started the fluids stat. They gauzed up his torso to slow the bleeding. At the hospital another IV was started for blood.

His blood pressure was low. His heart rate erratic. They put an oxygen mask on him to help his low pulse ox.

They were going to stitch him up bedside, but then they realized his spine was fractured. His left tibia was shattered, and his left femur was closed, but compounded. His skull had a small depression.

Fluid started to seep through his nose. It was clear and she knew that was bad. Clear fluid through the nose was a notorious sign of a cerebrospinal fluid leak.

He went to surgery and it was after 3 o’clock when they finally returned. She hadn’t fallen asleep, she just waited, staring at the door until it opened again.

He looked better. He really did. Pale, but not shaking anymore. They were giving him a medication to drain the fluid from his brain, likely Mannitol. His blood pressure had improved with the fluids and blood. His heart rate was stable. He was heavily bandaged. His entire leg was restricted, elevated and in a traction device to keep it in-line. His torso was stitched and bandaged. His neck was in a collar to keep his spine straight.

But he didn’t look like he was in pain anymore.

Holding his hand, she finally fell asleep right beside him.

That was how she stayed. Every day she went home once, never gone for more than forty minutes. She changed clothes. She made sure the spider was alive. She cleaned up. She returned to Peter’s side.

On the sixth day she brought the spider to the hospital. She hid it, snuck it inside, and she closed the door to the hospital room. Her palms were sweaty as she opened up the cage and spilled the spider onto Peter’s chest.

She glared at it. “You did this to him, you fix him.”

The spider stared at her, legs spread out, black eyes empty.

“Fix. Him.” She hissed. “Bite him again to give him extra strength. Use your bite to accelerate his healing. I don’t care, just fix him.”

But still, the spider did nothing.

Her eyes burned. “He’s my family. Please. The world needs him. I. . .I need him.”

She was talking to a spider. It would never understand. The tears spilled and she fell to her knees in front of the bed, crying with her head buried into the mattress. She begged Peter to wake up. To stop sleeping and wake up. They couldn’t get through this if he didn’t wake up. They couldn’t be a team if he didn’t wake up.

When they said ‘Till death do we part’ she hadn’t meant for it to be so soon. She expected old age. Surrounded by children and grandchildren. She expected beds in the same room at a long term care facility. She expected passing within minutes of each other because they loved each other too much to be apart for too long.

There was a nip on her ring finger. She raised her head, eyeline with the spider, and watched as it stumbled to the side, silent across the white sheet. It tilted, and rested upside down, legs curled up.

Heart beating slowly, a chill washing through her, she turned to look at her fingertips. It wasn’t just the redness of her eyes washing the world in that horrible color. There were two red dots on the tip of her ring finger.

A bite mark.

The heart monitor went flat. If she had been paying attention she would have noticed the decline in vitals. It dropped the rest of the way, until there was no heart activity.

She tensed, mouth dropping. “No. NO! DOCTOR! RAPID! CALL A RAPID!”

She had already started the compressions when they arrived. They tried to get her away but she wasn’t moving. Instead someone took over with the airway, pushing air into his lungs when the thirty compressions were over. They got the AED ready, setting up the patches around her deep compressions.

“CLEAR.” They all backed away, including her. “SHOCK.”

His body jolted off the bed. The AED began to charge again and she returned to compressions until they repeated the process. Clear. Shock. CPR. Clear. Shock. CPR.

8 minutes went by.

The time was called.

Spiderman was dead.

Peter Parker was dead.

Her husband, her family, was dead.

The door into the dark apartment opened. A dark figure silently swept inside. The door shut, was locked, and the light to the kitchen was turned on. It was growing darker, it would need to be changed. Another thing to add to her list.

She removed her hood, and hung it on a coat rack. Her braided hair rested over her shoulder.

Her chest holster, welding her guns, was shrugged off and set beside her cape.

The lower face mask rested on the countertop.

A bold move, you’d think, walking with all that directly into your apartment complex where anyone could see you. Not only see you, but report you to a crime lord trying to take power. But she had her ways of maneuvering unnoticed.

The door to her room was half closed and behind it, she changed. When the light flickered on, an unrecognizable woman was sitting on a perfect bed. Perfect in the sense that it looked like it was made for show, and not something that was, or would ever be, slept in.

The room wasn’t much different. Surfaces were clean. Walls were empty. The dresser had no personality to it. Only the bedside table had personal items on it; two pictures angled towards the bed.

One was a fuzzy black and white picture. To the untrained eye it looked like nothing special, but she had stared at it enough to know. Or maybe her pain had drafted something that wasn’t there. It was hard to tell at this point.

Peter always said he could see their baby boy, and he’d trace his fingers right over where he thought the boy was.

A baby boy that would never be.

The second picture was a wedding picture. She was all dolled up. Her old profession never allowed her to wear fake nails, but for the day, she had. Red nails, and on her ring finger, which was newly adorned with a wedding band, that fingernail was blue with a little spider on it.

Peter held her close in that picture, smiling down at her, glowing in his own right. She remembered the look in his eyes and she knew they would make it through anything.

She thought they would make it through anything.

They made it through a miscarriage. They mourned. They healed. They got to the point of trying again.

Five months ago he died.

Five months ago she became Recluse. She healed the city that raged with his absence. She killed every villain that ever laid a hand on him.

As a nurse, she practiced under the belief that no matter what the person in front of her had done, she would do her best to stabilize, to heal, to care for them. That part of her seemed like a different person. She thought that part of her had died with her husband.

And yet, sitting in what was once a shared room, she contemplated returning to that person. Losing the negative outlook on life, where everyone was guilty until proven otherwise. If they were given that chance to prove otherwise, that is.

Could she do it? She contemplated. Hang up the cape and mask for good, change it out for scrubs and a painted smile, and return to a life entirely different way than this one. Saving instead of killing. Healing instead of hunting. Listening instead of ordering.

She looked at her ring finger, which had the engagement ring and the wedding band. She rarely took either off. On that finger was a little tattoo of a spider weaving its string, which crawled down to her rings. She got it after they were married so she always had him with her.

He wouldn’t want her to be like this.

Perhaps she could have listened to her better side, the old side that rarely popped out, if her back didn’t straighten, an itch crawling up her spine, the hairs on her covered arms raising. She stood, whirling, just in time for a metal ball to crack through her bedroom window and land on her bed. It was orange and green, and several glowing dots flashed intermittently. Some might even say it resembled a pumpkin.

She grabbed it and threw. It blew up at her window, and harms radius hit her with the heat of a close range bomb. She flew back and slammed into her wall as the sound of a madman’s laugh reached her ears, a sound that could only be Green Goblin.

A villain she killed two months ago.

#spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #green goblin #miguel o'hara #miles morales #peter parker #peter b parker #angst #atsv #gwen stacy #peter parker x oc #andrew garfield peter parker x oc #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch

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possumclaws · 8 months

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Hehehehehe, I love having money so I can pay my friends to draw stuff for me :3. This lovely piece of art was brought to you by @tothetoonandback a dear friend of mine y'all should check out!!

A better look at the lovely art, My beloved Texas Red and The Green Goblin, more specifically the Willem Dafoe version :) cause I like him :3

I'll post more about Texas Red later if this post does well

#art #not my art #the green goblin #spiderman 2002 #green goblin #oc x canon

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circusgoth-dotcom · 11 months

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#self insert #self insert x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #self shipping #self shipping community #marvel oc #norman osborn #green goblin #otto octavius #doc ock #💵Norman Osborn🎃#🐙6 Arms to Hold You Tight / Does That Make You an Insect???🐙#🚫💍.s/i [Norman/Keaton Divorcees AU]#circus honks

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blankdblank · 2 years

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The White Dove Pt 35 - Kanelbulle, the Menace and the Spanish Inquisition

... Masterlist ...

Still pushing through a rough week, but the fun story-wise continues. As always would love to hear what you might think of how the story is going or what you might think could be coming up around the corner. Sending warm wishes to your corners of the world and hope all is going well there.

Oh, and if you wouldn't mind would you consider this story crack fic? Been told that it's when things drift outside the realm of possibility, but it's for Marvel, anything can happen. So let me know what you think if it would qualify or not, I know a fair bit of my ideas can be out there but not sure if it measures up to that tag. Trying to make sure the story is tagged right so I might draw in more interest and possibly some feedback. :)

****....****

Thursday and Friday you had off, and after distraction days prior in the decathlon team meeting costumed and painted from the game with the half marching band uniformed team behind you into a sea of bodies at Columbia you led the way. For a puzzling sight your tigress self found your table to set up the project you had brought for this competition. Still after all you had done a lengthy description and stream of questions came from them on the several use smart watch like device that would help blind users or those hard of seeing, and possibly on a simpler area to translate things audibly into other languages.

Navigation, item descriptions by means of using installed scanning micro camera lens, text to speech also using scanner for item to translate, atmospheric changes to warn of weather trouble on its way to find cover and even a means of location to ping for help if an injury occurred paired with button alert if they found themselves unable to talk. Designs of what you couldn’t get to yet also had adaptations for those who could not speak or even those who are epileptic to warn of symptom of an impending seizure and alert for help. Several devices inspired at first by ways you had thought up possible gadgets to help Daredevil while Misique was on a mini exploration trip.

During the questioning that seemed to gain little ground, that had Eddie on the side with a second reporter who he bragged to on the project that wanted the scoop on. Having a legally blind sister he helped to look after, a new invention of a Queens local always seemed to draw in attention so this wouldn’t get pushed aside, the rest of your team accepted the offered tour of Dr Connor’s experiment.

A sneak peek of what the famed scientist was working on under the paycheck of Oscorp was stolen. Though irritatingly in second place you held a ridiculous melon sized crystal bull statue beside the gold statue wielding winner, who invented essentially a lego sized taser that could be marketed to parents of little kids for self protection, had you about ready to bash him over the head at the dangerous ways that could go wrong. But the military rep you knew fairly well was intrigued and surely greased the wheels mid judging.

All you could do was keep a straight face and wait until you could rejoin your group and brother’s side, focused only on how Michelle Jones had kept stealing looks Peter’s way as he rubbed the back of his neck mid conversation with Ned about a project table nearby. “I won the bull,” you said to Eddie in the beginnings of the talk with his fellow reporter to fill out your part of the story after his having spoken to everyone else, including the winner.

Isaiah curiously had been talking to another student himself but broke off to give you a side hug in pride to see that you at least were walking away with something for your hard work on top of the nightly ballet shows five times a week. Though focus on them wouldn’t last long as you had to head home and ready for the suddenly decided dinner with Eddie at the Stacy’s home.

“Hi,” you said with a grin to Mrs Stacy who grinned back at your emerald plaid sweater dress clad self.

“Hello, come on in, Pluto.” From the covered container in your hand she looked over your stockings that mid thigh were shown to be sheer then right above the knee were solid black to blend into your black heeled booties. The silver shorts seen under the skirt matched Eddie’s shirt he paired with black jeans and his nicer grey velour dress boots for this odd occasion as you lifted the container, “You brought food?”

“Kanelbulle,” you answered and caught her eye after a second look at the container, “Cinnamon buns. Gwen said you and Mr Stacy like cinnamon, it was this or Applekaka, which is Swedish apple cake, but she said your youngest has a thing with apples.”

“Yes, thank you, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

Eddie said, “It’s a family thing, always bring food. Plus we are working our way through this huge book on Scandinavian recipes we’re weeding out for allergies and, it has been a blast.” Smiling as they shook hands. “Eddie Brock, heard all about you.”

“Helen,” she answered and gestured her hand to the side, “Come on in.”

“Gwen, your girlfriend is here!” the younger blonde boy darting across the visible living room called out as his darker haired older brother chuckled darting after him to finish putting away their games they had out in the wait for dinner.

“Ya, stop staring at yourself in the mirror!” the latter called out audibly gaining a scoff and opened door for her to reply when they were in their shared hall of bedrooms.

“You know we’re-,” Gwen was heard by you in the shift of your eyes to her father who was adjusting the waistband of his pants having shut off the new version of footloose that had been playing then offered you his hand.

“The infamous Pluto. Nice to have a name with a face. Seen you around town past few years, and on the parade, part of why our Gwennie wanted to join the Color Guard. George.”

“Hi, I brought Kanelebulle.”

“Wow, never had that, can’t wait to try it. Hope you like branzino.” He said making you smirk at him.

“Fish markets were half a mile down the road from my old home. All my friends used to joke we’d have gills by twenty with how much fish we ate.” You said making him chuckle and release your hand to shake Eddie’s.

“Saw the Bugle’s bit on the Duckling. Gwennie’s been meaning to try that same shop, glad you two decided on Italian, they pulled five armed men out of that place, then not even a stone’s throw some of the Kingpin gang punks tossed dressed dummies off the bridge. Maniacs, had thirty calls they tossed two kids off the bridge, had the whole school in an uproar.”

“Dad,” Gwen grumbled and George looked between his freshly arrived daughter, dressed in the purple dress you’d helped her to pick while out shopping, reminding him to not get too into work talk making him grin at Eddie and let his hand go.

“But that’s work talk, we are here for dinner.” He said then asked, “Have you seen the new Footloose?”

“Warning, Bacon alert.” The blonde boy said on his way to help set the table as Mrs Stacy accepted hold of your container to add it to a plate all its own to go beside the mini tart desserts she had picked up to serve.

“Dad’s a fan of Kevin Bacon. We had a healthy discussion of the importance of Footloose earlier before we gave the new adaptation a try.”

“Isn’t that the one where he dances in that warehouse?” you asked and George looked to you curious of your meaning. “Saw that one when I was little, neighbors took to thinking they could fly after that scene, did not go well and several four year olds filled the medical offices for a good week after that.”

Slyly a smirk had spread across his lips and he answered, “Yes, one and the same, seen it since?”

“I have been working through the Tremors series actually, going backwards on his film credits.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with Footloose, let Gwen know when you get to it and we could do a marathon here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gwen said and gave her dad a pointed look.

“Ya dad, unspoken bonds don’t meet movie marathon with the family level,” her darker haired brother said and chuckled dodging her huff and pointed glare his way making their dad clear his throat.

“Food’s ready,” Helen said luring you all to the table where you were seated between Eddie and Mr Stacy opposite their three children with both parents on the ends.

Fixing his napkin across his lap to the presentation of the full fish dish served with veggies on each plate George looked your way as you unfolded your napkin, having settled your purse on the chair behind your back. “Call me old fashioned, but two months is an awful long time to be dating.” Eddie immediately stole a glance your way as you looked to Gwen, who was hushed in her try to poke her dad in the arm to stop, “What does my Gwennie bear have to show you she’s girlfriend material.”

“I am sorry,” she mouthed your way and you looked his way, blindly fixing the napkin to lay flat.

“Obviously she always has been, no need to prove that to anyone.”

And he gestured a hand your way saying to Gwen, “See, just like the website said, Swedes don’t date, you’re a couple.” If you weren’t locked between being polite and absolute bewilderment you would have felt bothered at the assumption without even having talked to Gwen about any steps towards courtship.

Conversation between the parents was guided to keep the evening going their opinion of well while Gwen tried to keep her awkward grin from splitting across her face. Rounds of the desserts were served as plates were cleared and swapped for a new set to hold the treats and George asked, “I gotta know, you know her, what’s Misique up to on this trip of hers?”

“Expanding more on the ocean floor,” his brows arched up and you said, “The continents are only about a third of the space taken up on the planet, there are no maps of the ocean floor except for around locations of old mine fields, or where Titanic and other ships rest. Even routes submarines travel we have no footage or proper maps beyond rough estimates based off sonar pings where rock features are.” His head nodded in thought and you said, “Think of it this way, Godzilla, thousands of miles down has ruins of an abandoned civilization where ancient people used to pay homage to him, like the Greeks or Asians with temples to their gods for protection.”

“Whoa, there’s a whole city down there?” he asked leaning in a bit.

“Exactly that, just like rumors of Atlantis. We’ve mapped so little of it and all the use for those maps have been to lay bombs for subs to crash into while we were at war or to hunt for lost treasure or the occasional ship or plane wreck. Plus I’ve seen pictures of his civilization and it is truly spectacular, there could be so much more down there.”

“What about great squids?” the youngest brother asked you making you look his way.

“She has found a few, and some more creatures of the deep not even named yet,”

You said making both the boys say, “Cool.”

“I take it that’s how you bonded, over animals?” He asked and you nodded.

“Amongst other things.”

A hug and stolen peck on the cheek was your goodbye from Gwen who hurried to go and hide when she was alone with her family again and you were in the hall waiting for the elevator Eddie hit the button to. Once inside he said, “You know, I thought I was the only one to get stuck in this situation.”

“Two months!” you said and asked him, “How have I been a couple for two months?!”

“Okay, we gotta track this back.” He said and you nodded, clearly grateful for the help in this. “Color Guard, she asked you for help so you stay late few times a week. That’s just helpful,” he said then led the way out when the doors opened on the lobby.

“What I thought, part of my team duties.”

“Exactly, coffee after though,” his head tilted to the side and you nodded.

“Borderline,” you agreed.

“Shopping, with a chaperone, could be a date?”

“Slim, but possible.”

“You talk,” he said when you left the building to walk on the street towards the spot where he parked his bike, having promised to take you to a film after the early supper. “Very respectable hours, you enforce good habits, time for studying, no late night up all hours chats. You don’t hold hands,” that had you lift a hand to point at him and he asked, “What?”

“Bridge night, I took her hand after the rainbow shop thing. I thought she was just scared, her heartbeat was wild so I didn’t let go. She kissed my cheek.” You said and at his bike you stopped to accept the helmet he took off the handlebar to give to you. “How do you just not tell someone you’re together? You have to mention it! Sometime! You do the old ‘oh we’re so cute together’ and,” you paused and in a wide eyed stare he was unable to stop himself from smirking.

“What clicked?”

“She asked me about my plans for babies, and where I wanted to live on the bridge.”

“Okay, that’s deep. That’s two months in talk, two months, so that’s got to be shopping day or one of the coffees at least.”

Adding the helmet you asked him, “Do I flirt? Have I been flirting with her all this time?”

“I think you’re being playful, which is different. But she is 14, I mean, that’s a rush of just crazy to be thrown at you, and you’re a 10, 15 if I use my biased scale. She was bound to fall eventually.”

“That’s not funny, I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I’m the older one, I’m supposed to know things. What if she’s gonna expect me to kiss her or something? I don’t even know if I’m just enjoying her company as friends, we just met. She’s 14, I’ve made it two years from that lone dating flub and I still have no idea how to date a 14 year old!”

“Let’s go see the movie, just um, obviously you’re not doing anything wrong, model girlfriend material especially for the parents. So, just keep it friendly, maybe offer an occasional hand hold, but pg should be safe, and if she has any issues she can bring it to the table. Or she’ll huff about it and you can bring up the issue of why she’s huffing and take it from there.”

You sighed and said in adding your helmet, “If I knew it was going to be an official couple meet the parents I would have brought a chocolate sticky cake, makes a better presentation and flavor combination.”

Scans from your bees had confirmed it, and behind the wide eyed Peter inside of Delmar’s Deli you tried to bring up a conversation in the brief time you had before your show tonight. His entire genetic code had evolved and after a couple days of being without his glasses you made him flinch once again in a try to gain his confidence to understand how he was faring. Clearly one of the spiders had gotten loose and Dr Connors was upset in having to breed another one to replace the initial test subject for those desired uses of its webbing and other bodily functions.

“More fun with Ned today?”

Right around his wide eyed self more hopped than pivoted to face you, now hearing again with his new senses an odd effect to your voice he hadn’t noticed before, as if it was layered to be subdued, as if it wasn’t just this frequency your voice could travel between adding to the honey dripped effect it gave your words. “Ned, no. Um, just, getting a sandwich. Why, what did you think we were up to something?”

“He’s your best friend,” you answered.

“Yes, he is,” Peter said and looked you over, curious about your stained t shirt, converse and jeans that had you shorter than usual without heels on to have him actually look slightly down at you instead of being even for a change. Delmar behind the counter smirked at another odd interaction between the two of you. “He has an appointment.”

“Very convenient. If you were more self conscious and this was a soap opera he’d have a second town and a second best friend hidden somewhere.”

“Oh he would not, he’s miserable with secrets.”

“Or so you think,” you said luring a curious smirk across his lips, “Could be the most marvelous cover you’ve ever seen.”

“Are you, relaxing? There’s a show tonight, right?”

“Yes, been printing off wall panels, have a few supporting beams I have to work into these slots within the wall, had to wiggle out the rest of the beams that were broken off inside the slots around the bite.”

“That, hard? To do?” he asked sheepishly, having like Ned been trying to work up the nerve to ask to see your ship sometime in person. Most of his free time lately had been to gather old computers or appliances to fix and fancy up for sale online and the ship along with your watch more reps were still stupidly ignoring the ingenuity of it work on that ship had him ultimately in awe. You were working on an actual space ship and by what you had recorded so far were having great success at it.

“Seeing as the wing joints shocked me and when I first touched the rudder control it bit me, I would say there’s some risk to it.” You said making him chuckle to himself.

“Need a hand?”

“Two would be useful, the beams are fifty pounds a piece.”

“That’s, is it supposed to be fifty pounds each?”

“After wiggling the remaining bits out I weighed them and measured the space on the bite, and scanning through where the beams would be on the other side of the hull to have exact measurements.”

That had him nod, “Weight of what’s missing compared to how much you have and it gives you fifty. Not bad. How many beams are there?”

“They’re half a foot apart, eight, to help support the panels. Then I have to layer that with a series of netting around the border of the torn metal to smooth and weld the rolled bits to it to make fitting the new pieces there smoother.”

“I wouldn’t have the first clue how to fix a boat. That is wild you know that.”

“What’s wild is the Escher like mast. It folds like gears in layers but expands and has thinner supporting woven patterns in between to lock it together. Can’t find trace of wires and it’s kind of like a magnetic force to lock them together when they’re expanded, but there’s no magnets.”

“Unless it’s like some alien metal that only bonds to itself?”

“Tried that. Unless it has something to do with the engine and its star engine core that maybe zaps it then after it bonds to itself once expanded.”

“Star core, so cool.” He said then turned for his turn to request food.

Not long after with food in hand he was able to circle the ship as you readied the beams. Sight of you moving them to the deck then you carrying each one to wiggle with down the space around the mast had him stand on the ship to ask, “Wouldn’t there be a hatch to get down there?”

“I’m certain there is, I just haven’t located it yet.”

“But, there’s a giant hole in the side of the ship. You could climb in there.”

Halfway down the space again with another beam you paused to look at him, weight supported by one palm on the deck, “Now that would be just rude. If you inexplicably grew a second belly button on your bicep I wouldn’t go sticking my finger in it. The hull will be patched one day when I get enough scale panels printed.”

Smirking to himself he watched you pop down then did himself to move the chair so he could reach as you moved all the beams beside the gaping hole. “Hey,” you said crouching to ease the final beam in place across your lap readying to lift it snapping his eyes right to your shadow encased nervous self. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle, “You’re letting me help you work on a space ship. Ask me anything.”

The two foot thick, half foot tall beam that stretched longer than the gap was lifted on one side to line it up with the opening groove for it along the wall of the hull, and you asked, “You’ve seen me with Gwen, do, we seem, couply?”

The other end of the beam was lifted on his raised palms to help with the alignment in making it level, “You are a couple.”

“I get that,” you said beginning to wiggle the subtly curved beam that just barely had enough space to get it to go deeper. “I’m ace, I don’t really get the whole hormone and, social dating scheme.”

“Oh,” he said and at the lock of the beam in place you both eyed the other side and he shifted to face the other way to begin to wiggle it back the other way, “Well you seem happy, both of you. Really a lot of girls have been sighing and complaining their boyfriends aren’t as understanding or give them as much support or space for free time.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing then. Hard to know, how I’m perceived outside of being odd.” You continued to wiggle the beam in to the liquid chalk line you measured to have it lined up as it should compared to the other side to by symmetrical.

“You know, we’re all odd ducks,” he said letting the beam go to move his arms at his sides as you readied the next one. “And besides, like that Dr Seuss quote, ‘You have to be odd, to be number one.’ Aunt May got me that on a poster when I was little. Or Alice in Wonderland, best people being mad and all that. Everyone who creates something has to be a bit odd.”

“You get a lot of motivational speeches don’t you?” you asked and he chuckled.

“That obvious?”

“Welcome to the boat Skipper. Eddie loves himself a good motivational quote of the day calendar, even got an app on his phone to have it pop up each day.” Up into the groove the next was wiggled to slide in to be wiggled the way back to the chalk lines, two more were added until Eddie in his return grinned in being a taller set of hands to help you finish the job off.

Rolled up the honeycomb metal netting was held by Eddie with heat resistant gloves so you could curve and arch it to weld, with the visor on as Peter finished off his meal the support around the edges of the hole. A break was taken to allow you to finish your meal as Eddie used the welding torch on a lower heat to warm the metal that had rolled outward the most to hammer as flat as possible against the netting.

After your food was gone scans of the partial scales that were already taken to see if they were lined up level to be able to take the layer above it to be added. A test that when Peter was gone you could come back later to manipulate the metal in it to lay flatter than Eddie was capable to work it; the hole with gaps between beams didn’t look much better.

But at least the support there showed progress that online in the comments would have mini explosions of glee at what you were capable of getting done in the small break you had today to get it done. Now with a backing there even ship builders knew that gradually if you wouldn’t have time for long sessions scales could be layered to keep progress to attain float and watertight status in no time.

While news of your show had put the gym trips on a sparser schedule the few times you did see him since apparently the confirmation of your relationship with Gwen, a certain billionaire’s son seemed to have something brewing inside that head of his now there was an official competition to your free time. Norman at least as Dr Connors was gaining ground on his research was pleasantly distracted from tries to poach any and all ideas possible from you in each time you spoke.

But halfway through November your main focus was to keep everything on an even keel to ensure you completed the obligated shows to the end of December to gain several thousands to sit on like a tiny dragon with a scaled down mighty hoard of savings. Until you had to spend it on school and other expenses to cover until you could legally play poker and gain some serious funds on the side. You just had to agree to have a study group with Harry this week to calm his worry on spare attentions all his own on top of gym trips.

‘Green Cackler Spotted’

Across headlines the arrival of a new villain in town above your heads in the streets that ran over the subway a battle was raging. One you bore no energy to pay no mind to as beside a pillar you stood nodding off in wait for the train to take you home. Others down here amongst the just swarm of masses, including those with children, escaping the waging battle above tried to distract said children and one another with small talk or stolen glances your way at one oblivious to muffled crashes, blasts and explosions. Somewhere between sleep and dreams bees kept sharing bits of what was around you a telling ring of metal across concrete had your eye crack.

Bomb, gold and green a triple beep warning to a boom split your eyes and had those around you group up with nowhere else to go. Up above, the yet to be named green menace, had thrown that and Captain America had knocked it away with his shield down here. Out of his way and right into yours. The golden shell split open and a telling scream of explosives had your eyes snap open, glittering yellow and around a pair of small children and the pillar you moved, hands glowing to cast a barrier and convert the energy of said blast.

Too fast to see the glow of the hatted and thickly coated body let them know of the name of who had prevented this disaster. But right in the heart of a smaller sort of mushroom blast they stood in silence watching the swirl of green get lost in the frenzied glittering yellow pulses of energy to burst not just here but all through the state subway system. Too much energy was left over and without thought over the surfaces of every subway center a thin layer of vibranium was spread, packed trains and rails alike stained in various colors. Enhancing the electrical system and adding guarding bee monitors and barriers to protect people in the future from danger of crimes and weather alike should it flood like it had two years ago.

The glow lingered and through the opening of the subway stations more bodies took it as a sign of safety or merely less danger than where they were at and raced there away from the Star Spangled Avenger and his backup. Out of the nearest exit to their damage a swarm of bees only enforced the fact of who was down there on its path to Black Widow’s back. Off her thigh when it warped to be a crude silhouette of Misique cast with projections to show your mask a handgun was pulled, aimed and fired dropping her jaw at what you had done. One shot, straight through Captain America’s back and out his chest lodged into the chest of the green menace dropping him off of his glider.

To a knee Cap dropped in a half twist to see who had shot him. Back to Nat the bees gave the gun, more dropping it in front of her with little care if she caught it or not. And his pained gaze scanned over the small swarm who pointed to the subway opening now growing dimmer to reveal the lingering wave of smoke pooling out of it from the explosion, speaking together an imitation of Misique’s voice, “There are children down there.” They split apart and faded in the stunned silence as the Avengers could see the people they had put in danger and buildings they had broken by means of ‘helping’ the city.

Down below long as you could you held consciousness. All the same, once that single gunshot was fired down to your sides your hands dropped and knees gave out to have your collapsing self be encased with all the bees forming the barrier. Every inch of you was covered, hat held on by their numbers down to the soles of your boots with bag bee coated and pressed to your belly.

Awkwardly on a shoulder you had landed to give off a sort of pop, the telling sound of that joint dislocating upon impact to your bees, and out of the stunned masses locked in silence a man split from his huddled group. The one with the girls you moved around. Off his back his rather expensive outer jacket was removed to be bunched and in a creep closer to ease the bee coated head up to slide the jacket under it. Buzzing and flicked wings of the bees nestling to cover every inch ensured by layer upon layer of them like a cocoon they would stand guard keeping watch over every body that would pass by until you could wake up and stumble home again. And just in case two wiggled down into your boot to hit the ping box to call for Eddie to come and find you or contact through Venom another Symbiote to do so.

Back atop his glider the menace pounced, blood spilling down his chest plate to soar his way down into the subway. Cackles to the crowds there would be recorded as his reaction to finding a bee encased body. Up into his arms he hoisted you up, having sent out an electrical type of pop rocks that fizzled and caused the arguing masses to halt their try to save you and just watch and wait until they could be told it was safe to come out. Out of the subway he flew, over the heads of the Avengers, granting only a glimpse when a few layers of the bees broke off the arm that fell into view flashing a couple rings Hawkeye recognized at once.

“That’s Pluto,” he muttered and shouldered his bow to race for the bike Cap had shown up on. Close behind War Machine thwarted drones and gas to try and keep on his tail while Stark, who was out of town, sent empty Iron Man suits to try and help the tracking. Only to lose sight of him beyond lower Brooklyn in a wonky wobbly path all over New York. Through the streets of Manhattan Clint was the closest, tracing any sign of bodies of passers by he could ask for sign of where the menace had gone to. Steve meanwhile by Nat was being hoisted up into and then out of a vehicle to carry him to Stark Tower to get medical attention for his punctured lung and severed artery.

Soft and low a grumble left your lips as you opened your eyes splitting the bees above you to coat the lounge you were on continuing their patrol as you brought out your phone. “Eddie,”

“Sis, what’s going on? Ping box went off and internet is saying Cap blew up the subway in uptown then got shot.”

“I was in the subway, I guess the Cap part is true, knocked a bomb down into the subway. I passed out but the hive says green menace took me,” up off your back you lifted painfully to look around the room only to stop at the giant portrait of Norman Osborn. “I’m in Osborn’s house. Menace left me here then took off.”

“I can have Phage and Shriek out there if you need them. I’m still out in Pennsylvania but I can fly back.”

“I can get home. Focus on your story. I’m just tired, got my hive.”

“You call me if you need anything at all.”

“I will. Text you when I get home.”

“Soon as I get home I’m killing that green bastard.” You hung up as he did, pocketing your phone to ease your tired legs off the lounge to force yourself upright. Airborne the bees formed groups to give you something to hold yourself up to get to the door. Quietly you eased the handle to crack it open enough to have a trio of bees scan the room in case the menace was out there. You needed something to eat, and you assumed Harry at least would be understanding if some food was used to be replaced later on, so to the kitchen you aimed yourself. Marble floors tried to give hint you were there in numb footed echoing steps to the next ornate wood paneling on pillars or door frames.

“What do you have?” you muttered and gathered a couple apples and found an unused container of cream cheese near to expiration you added and claimed the unused bagels surely bought at the same time far harder than they ought to be for enjoyment. A dagger from your waist when you set your bag on the counter was brought out so over a paper towel you tore from the roll near to the sink you cut the apples up then sheathed it again. The lid was removed and silver film pulled back to scoop the fruit in the topping for a hopeful burst of sugar to help power your legs to get the distance home. Around the apple slice you grumbled however as your phone rang again.

One handed it was brought out to read who disturbed your snack, “Hey, Lt Rhodes.” You said answering the call once you saw who it was. Wondering what he wanted from you as it was too coincidental to be something causal at this hour.

“Where are you right now?”

“Oddly enough, I’m in Norman Osborn’s house, stealing some of his food.” And before he could ask you say, “I woke up on the chaise, and I really don’t know much else.”

“Pluto I need you to stay put,” he tells the team, “She’s at Norman Osborn’s house, Misique must have dropped her there taking on the menace.”

The lights suddenly came on halting your chew of the next slice of apple you had coated in the topping. To the door your head snapped, where Harry froze seeing you in the sea of bee coated counters and cupboards, having woken up to news that the menace had stolen away with a woman from the subway. Into the phone after swallowing you said, “I’m gonna have to call you back,”

“Don’t you hang up! Pluto!”

“Pluto?” Harry asks curiously.

“I, um, I have the military on the phone, um,” you said making Harry smirk curiously.

“Pluto the tower has a helipad, right? Do you see one?”

And you shift the phone to ask, “There’s a helipad here right?”

“Yes,” he said moving closer.

“Yes,” you say then say to Harry, “Something happened in the subway, big explosion and some green guy picked me up and I woke up on your lounge, and am now stealing your food.”

That had him chuckle and say, “I’ll make you something better to eat than cream cheese,” he said smiling as he moved to the fridge. “Welcome here anytime.”

“Pluto we’ll be there in three minutes.” Rhodey said and you simply covered your face with a hand.

“Sure, just, sure.”

“You alright, did you hit your head?”

“I’m just really tired. Just got off work, Harry’s making me something to eat.”

“Good, we’re gonna get you fed and looked after and then back home don’t you worry.”

You lowered your phone muting it as you whispered, “I really wish they’d stop saying that.”

Harry chuckled asking, “Say what?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not worried, I’m tired fell asleep on the subway and got carried off by some green guy after the whole place exploded. I have nothing to be worried about.” You said making him chuckle again as you lifted the phone you un-muted to Rhodey’s next question.

A bacon and egg based so called ‘power smoothie’ he swore by was whipped up and pressed together as a helicopter was seen to be flying closer to the tower. In one go you downed the drink and settled the glass in the sink restraining a grimace while saying, “Thank you, Harry, and sorry, I’ll pay you back for the food.”

On your shoulders he rested his hands, trying not to notice the swollen shoulder internally he questioned, “Take as much food as you want here any time. Obviously we have more than enough.” His grin spread saying, “Next time go for the good stuff.” As you collected your purse and hat he said, “I’ll show you to the helipad.”

Rhodey beside the helicopter landed to watch you walk out of the double doors towards the two soldiers who climbed out of the door to help your notable self into the vehicle. The closer you got eyes settled on the swarm of bees that latched onto your bag, arms and back and into your braided hair to keep close to you. All of whom they moved to cover your front to crawl under your jacket so you could sit back against the seat, hands one at the door helped to keep you level on the way inside.

Off the ground it lifted to start the flight to the base where you built the Blackhowls. Over the radio Rhodey stated he was going to keep looking for the menace in one more sweep of New York and his usual haunts where he had been spotted. And the men on either side of you over the headset they put on your head kept you awake between the clear urge of your body to go to sleep as you kept nodding off.

“Okay, basic checkup, were you injured?” the Medic asked turning your head to the smear of blood down your arm.

“That’s not mine. Must be from the green guy.”

“Can we take your coat to swab that?” you nodded and grimaced in the shrug out of your arm parting lips on him and his Nurse seeing the bees across your chest and belly. “We got bees.” Shaking his head he looked to the SHIELD agent along the wall with hold of the leather jacket by the neck they handed over, “Menace blood is on the right sleeve. They’re gonna want that.” They hurried to call that in and make use of some sample kits to go over your jacket for traces of ways to track the menace in and out of his armor.

The Nurse asked, “You do know you’re covered with bees?”

“Yes, they’ll fade when I get home. They won’t hurt anyone.”

The Medic however in a shift around your back till he was back in front of you he eyed your shoulders and asked, “Does your shoulder hurt?”

“I think it’s dislocated. Felt too stiff earlier to pop back in when I woke up,” with warning he shifted the neck of your baggy sweater to see the clearly swollen shoulder.

“Let’s get your weight and we can finish the basic exam and get that popped back in for you.”

Even with the bees you could about feel their displeasure at you being 72 pounds hanging in the air and onto a reclined table you were moved to have your blood pressure checked same as your lungs and heart. Back onto your back you were helped and the bees moved to coat the wall so they could ready to check your arm. One hand rested on top of your shoulder as the Medic laid your arm over the top of his other arm, his eyes swept over you in the steady exhale you gave stirring a stunning limpness in your arm. Just a twitch of your brows together was the response to the snap of the shoulder back into socket. “This happen often?”

“Chaos follows me. Land on my left a good deal.” You said making him smirk to himself.

“I’m gonna rotate your arm and check your other arm before we move onto your legs.” A few times the Nurse had to tap your arm to stop you from nodding off. Eyes and head were checked next when he was sure your legs were fine, “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No, just tired. My night off. I have school, the shows I’m in, work,” into a raised fist you yawned and kept trying to keep awake with a few spare blinks. “I fell asleep in the subway and I woke up in Norman Osborn’s house with the bees. Not sure what happened.”

Lowly the Doctor chuckled to the Nurse stating, “Well you missed a doozy. Apparently Cap knocked a bomb into the subway, Misique was down there, she stopped the bomb and went up to shoot through Cap’s back to hit the menace. He fell off his glider but popped back on and flew down to grab you. Best we were told Misique’s chasing him down and dropped you at Osborn’s, do you know them well?”

“He says we’re friends.”

The Medic said, “That makes sense then. Why she dropped you there. Plenty of beds there I bet. And now off your jacket we have a blood sample to track him down.” Off your neck he asked, “Any issues lately on top of fatigue? You are severely underweight, I do want to talk about that as well. Just gonna check your bowel sounds,” he said removing his stethoscope from his neck to out on.

“I have a bad reaction to shellfish and other foods. Stomach is just in torment for days after, that and other foods, got a meal from a neighbor and it,” you sighed, “Took the wind out of my sails, that on top of a nasty bout of allergies I just couldn’t keep much in my system. I get sick and it seems I take twice as much in to have to get better again. Been getting better, my brother’s been helping me with five pound bags of tater tots and chili. I eat nine times a day, two big meals and small snacks so I’m not facing an eating disorder. I get that often, I just have to keep eating and I’ll gain that weight back easy.”

“Your parents have history of digestion issues?” he asked listening to your belly then moved to hang the stethoscope behind his neck again.

“Mom had Wilson’s Disease and Chorea,” you said parting his lips, “Dad had kidney disease. He said he used to get sick when he was little too, but we didn’t get into his full history. I would have to call Sweden and Norway for his medical records for more.”

“Well if there are issues like this frequently you might want to have a Doctor do more thorough tests on your digestive system. I’m gonna palpate your belly, tell me if anything hurts. And after this we’re gonna get you some tater tots and chili.”

Amusement of the large supply of tots was traded for the more worrisome sight of you hooked to a heart monitor atop a spare bed to get a nap until it was cleared for you to be taken home. Over the top of you like a blanket the bees coated you, buzzing in conversation while keeping Eddie up to date on progress of the task of returning you home.

Rhodey, upon arrival into the building he found the medic asking, “How’s Pluto?”

“For the most part intact, aside from a dislocated shoulder no injuries. Said she fell asleep on the subway and just woke up in Osborn’s house.”

“That’s good,” he said and let out a breath, “What else?”

“Other than the fact she’s 72lbs.”

Rhodey shook his head and let out a chuckle, “She says she eats nine times a day. I’ve seen her eat myself she’s like a tiny linebacker.”

“Well she said she had a bad reaction to something a neighbor gave her, and said allergies on top of that she just burned through all she was able to eat, and wasn’t able to keep much in her system. She’s small and under a great deal of stress, mentioned school, work, a show and I know she builds planes too. If there is any sign of digestive trouble or inability to keep weight on she needs deeper testing, said she doesn’t have a full history of her parents but her dad said he got sick as a kid like she did. We gave her tater tots and chili and she’s napping now. When is she gonna be able to go home? Apparently the bees won’t leave her till she gets there.”

Rhodey soaked all that in saying, “Misique does keep a good eye on her. Won’t be long now. Which room is she in?”

“End of the hall.” The medic nodded his head towards the barely lit room where Clint could be seen in the crack of light from the mostly shut door seated in a hunch forward watching the numbers and lines on the screen dance in odd patterns he couldn’t make sense of.

“Clint,” Rhodey said in his quiet step into the room. “Fury said her building has been cleared, we can take her home.”

“I think she’s having nightmares.” Again the numbers danced up to grow closer to a warning level that would set off an alarm that caused the bees on your chest and arms to spiral and together buzz in what seemed like a too fast to be believed ripple of light around their tiny legs and wings before your numbers leveled out. “They keep doing that.” You weren’t having nightmares however. They were ensuring you didn’t spark up as while you slept part of the hive was already tracing the pathway of the menace to show inside Oscorp a bloody Norman on the security footage dragging himself towards a gas chamber to burst out again cackling with a crude scar across his chest where you had shot him.

“The hive is talking,” you sighed causing the men to look at you, having assumed you were deep in sleep locking them in wonder on how to wake you safely from said nightmares. Opening your eyes you said, “Helping Misique track green guy down.” Off his seat Clint stood to help you sit up with your jacket on his shoulder.

“Jacket’s been cleaned off. When she finds him we’ll be able to lock him down for life.”

Rhodey said, “Heard you’re underweight. Stomach issues.”

“I feel better now I’ve eaten and with a nap. I have a sensitive stomach, after that clears it’s easy to bulk up again.”

Clint asked, “Glucose? One of my boys had that as a baby.”

“No, shellfish. And some other foods. Off results I’ve gotten I don’t fit all the signs to what illnesses I can find in medical books.”

“Either way, let’s get you home and we’ll be checking in on your stomach to make sure you are past your stomach issues. Gotta keep you in good health now.”

“Let me guess, your engineers are still afraid to blow themselves up working on my Blackhowls?” you asked making the duo smirk as you eased off the table and eased on the jacket to take hold of your bag and hat.

“The team likes to see you and you know it. Part of the team.”

Clint at the waiting truck asked you as he climbed in behind you, “So Misique’s back in town? For good this time?”

“Supply run. No sign of any more hidden bases, did find a giant golden statue buried in the sand a friend in Spain is going to help grease some wheels in getting inspectors for one of their museums.”

“I thought museums loved that sort of thing.”

“Well, when it comes to gold that’s another matter. Could just melt it down and pool it back into the economy. I mean the face looks like King Phillip, but that’s just my guess, and anything from that era seems to be alluring. And if they won’t take it I’m certain France would love to add to their museums.”

“Or you could just ask her for it.” Clint joked.

“I don’t feel so fondly about King Phillip to have a golden statue of him.”

“Think of it more as a college fund,” he said making you giggle to his second chuckle.

“Do have to admit seeing his face on the footage reminded me of that Monty Python skit, ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.’”

“Classic,” Rhodey said and they both chuckled now turning the conversation to the classic comedy team for the rest of the ride.

Pt 36

@devilishminx328. @theincaprincess, @lilith15000, @jesevans, @jiminapickle

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the-spectacular-longlegs · 1 year

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Hello! If you're into tssm or would like a tssm roleplay please dm me or interact with this post I would love to talk about ocs and build plots and even juts chat ooc!

#tssm otto octavius #tssm norman osborn #tssm green goblin #the spectacular spider-man #tssm #roleplay #tssm peter parker #oc rp #oc x canon #canon x canon

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greengoblinswifey · 2 years

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Green Goblin Headcanons

•He's the cliché hates everyone but you.

•He's cold, and sometimes he can be cold to you but he has a soft spot for you. He doesn't admit it though but deep down, you can see it in his actions.

•He often takes over from Norman to terrorize New York and Spider-Man but in the occasions he doesn't, he does it to spend time with you. To have you to himself.

•Gobby is very possessive. Norman is too but he's next level. If you're at an Oscorp gala and another man even breathes in your direction too hard, his hand is bruising your hips. He'll even pull you in for a rough kiss to prove a point.

•Sometimes he wonders how and why you're still with him considering what he's done. It's not like he'd let you leave anyway but he still wonders.

•As said before, he has a soft spot for you. He may be a psychopath but he's still a bit of a softie. After a long night of crime, if he's wounded or injured in any way, he allows you to take care of him. He wouldn't let anyone else do it.

•After you patch him up, he allows you to cuddle up next to him. He has a hard grip on your body surely to leave a bruise but you don't mind.

•He loves to degrade you. You're his dirty little whore and he's sure to let you know when he's bending you over in a lab.

•He makes sure to tell you his much of a slut you are because you're dripping wet for a criminal, him.

•When you're being a bitch or talking back, his hand wraps around your neck. He gives you a warning look along with the choking that makes your pussy throb.

•He likes fucking you rough. The kind of rough sex that will leave you sore and have Norman apologize when he regains control. The kind of rough sex that will have you sobbing from pleasure, overstimulation and a bit of pain.

•Of course, you have a safeword, one that you don't utter often but as soon as that "green" leaves your tired lips. He immediately stops what he's doing and cups your cheeks. He's running your bath and searching for any bruise he's inflicted on you. Sometimes, he even allows Norman to regain control seeing as he's better at affection.

•Accompanying his degrading kink, he also likes to praise you. On occasion, you'll hear a "such a good fucking girl" or "that's my pretty girl, you're doing so well for me." He likes to let you know you're a good girl and you're doing great.

•He loves to compliment and admire your beauty too.

•Deep down, he's scared you'll leave him even though as already established, he wouldn't let you. It's just the thought of you wanting to leave and trying it that kills him. Why would you want him anyway? Why would you want to stay with a broken, insane, psychopathic criminal like him?l

•But you love him. You don't care what happens out in the streets and what he does, you know your gobby and he'd never hurt you.

•Speaking of hurt, he'd do anything for you. He'd hurt anyone for you. Kill anyone for you. Waiter was mean? He gets a shake down and a pumpkin bomb in the face. You get rejected from a job or fired? He's flying through the place cackling and throwing bombs everywhere.

•He protects you with his life. You are everything to him and he'll be damned if he let anything happen to you. You're a once in a lifetime kind of girl.

•Oh and he has a big cock. We been knew. And he knows how to use it, he knows how to have you gripping the sheets and writhing under him. Norman is great in bed but somehow the goblin is even better.

•His pullout game is strong but sometimes he wants to cum inside you. He loves the feeling and he knows how much you do too.

•Sometimes, he watches you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but in a "how am I so lucky, how is she so beautiful, does she love me for who I am, I need to protect her" kind of way.

•He always thought he was too cold, evil and incapable of love until he met you, you changed him, he's not as ruthless as he was before you and it scares him. "What is this woman doing to me?"

•He loves that you know him well. He finds it hot how you can immediately tell when he takes over even when he pretends to be Norman.

•You're obviously not allowed to go with him on his rampages in the city but one night, you disobeyed him and followed him, and you were so close to being seriously injured or possible dying if it weren't for him swooping in and grabbing you on to his glider.

•He yelled at you, not because he's angry--well he is but more scared and worried. You yell back asking him why it mattered to him and he yelled back "because I love you," there's a short pause, "and I can't let anything happen to you."

•Tears collected in your eyes and you told him that you loved him back. After you're home, he lays you on the bed and kisses you all over and for the first time, you don't fuck, you made love to each other

•He's sweet to you when he wants to be. He's unpredictable, one minute he's all over you, the next he's burying himself in work or some master plan to defeat Spider-Man.

•He wasnt affectionate until he met you, he's changed in some ways for you and he'll do anything to make you happy, even if it's illegal.

A/N: this is my first headcannon posted on my wattpad paulwalkerswidow22 xx

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pinkwoolart · 2 years

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Took a day off from this but it’s done! Gotta love the fishbowl drama king! Honestly I love the MCU Mysterio but I almost think I like TSSM Mysterio a little more? Probably because I think I have a weird weakness for villains specifically with dumb bowl-cut (or bowl-cut adjacent) hair. I can’t explain why. I just. It’s a pattern I’ve noticed 😳

#oc x canon #tssm #tssm mysterio #doc ock x oc #tssm green goblin #green goblin x oc #Mysterio x oc #spider sona

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foxigemini · 1 year

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Bound For Life - Chapter 1

Pairing: OC!Orc x Human Female Reader

Summary: Your life is nothing exciting. Until one day when you encounter a creature in the forest and your life is changed forever.

Warnings: Nsfw! Smut, Orc Sex, Monster Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Size kink.

Author's notes: Okay, so this is my first time writing and posting anything original. I hope this is good enough to post and that a few out there will like it.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Life had never consisted of anything exciting or interesting for you. As you grew up to be an independent young woman after the death of your parents, you found yourself living quite a boring life. Living alone in a small cottage in the forest outside the village, you worked at the local Inn. Every day was the same as the other. Meeting the same people, having the same dull conversation.

Little did you know, it was soon about to change.

You knew of the creatures in the world, of the elves and trolls, goblins ad orcs, but you'd never encountered one. Their lands were far away from the humans, so distant it felt like a fairytale red to spellbound children.

It was late at night after another shift. You walked through the dark and murky forest, following the stone path to your home. Suddenly, your skin tingled and your eyes flickered as your breath deepened, inhaling more air. Your footsteps slowed down as you listened with great intensity, couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You looked behind you, expecting your eyes to connect with a rodent, a wolf, or a bird, but nothing was there. Nothing but a lingering knowing. Looking onward again, you quickened your steps this time, hoping to escape the constant feeling of being followed by watchful eyes.

Yolmar hid in the darkness of the forest, watching the fragile, little female figure walking the path through the woods. He had never seen a human before. His head tilted, nostrils flaring as he felt the smell of your fear. It was almost like hunting a deer.

Yolmar had never been this far away from home. As he came of age, Yolmar was sent to explore the world to find a suitable mate. He never expected that it was the sent of a human that would awaken his interest.

A sudden crack made him look to the side, his pulse quickening at seeing the wolf sneaking up on you. His eyes snapped back to you, then back to the wolf, his instincts taking over when the animal suddenly lunged towards you.

It all happened so fast. Despite your senses being on high alert, you barely had time to react when you heard the crack of a breaking tree branch behind you. Twirling around, you stared at the wolf galloping towards you. Your scream didn't have time to leave your lips before the wolf was knocked to the ground by an enormous, green-skinned humanlike creature. You stared at the scene before you, unable to move as the creature wrapped his muscular arm around the wolf's neck and broke it. The green beast dropped the lifeless wolf to the ground, its chest heaving with heavy breaths as he turned his attention to you, staring at you with yellow, intense eyes.

From the stories told to you as a child, you knew that it was an orc.

You thought you would die on the spot as the orc moved closer, its heavy footsteps booming in your ears in pace with the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

"You okay?" the orc spoke, his voice guttural as he struggled to speak your tongue. You blinked, once, twice, as you stared up at this monstrous beast before you. His yellow eyes examined you with what you could only describe as...concern? He was tall, probably close to 6,6, his bare-chested upper body flexing with muscles as he breathed heavily.

You nodded at his question, couldn't find your voice as your gaze dropped to his loincloth, your face heating up as you imagined what was hidden beneath. What on earth possessed you to think such inappropriate thoughts in the face of death? You looked up again, your eyes following the shape of the black mohawk on his head, down his pointy ears, and the two tusks protruding from his bottom lips.

"Good," the orc answered to your nod, his gaze slowly roaming down the shape of your body, and you found yourself blushing. Why did he make you feel so utterly naked and bare?

"Uhm...t-thank you. For...for saving me," you finally managed to say, your voice shaking as much as your heart pounding in your chest.

The orc nodded, a smirk ghosting across his lips as he looked back up to your face and met your gaze.

"W-what are y-you doing here? I-I mean, s-so far away from your homeland?" you asked, not knowing where you got the courage to speak. Good lord, this was so unreal. Were you actually having a conversation with an orc?

"I left my clan to search for a mate," the orc replied, taking a step closer to you as he gazed at you leeringly. "I am Yolmar. What's your name, little human?"

You stared up at him, unable to breathe at his closeness and the lustful glimmer in his eyes.

"Y-Y/n...," you croaked and wetted your lips, scared of what might happen next.

"Well, y/n..." Yolmar placed his forefinger under your chin, lifting it up and forcing you to hold his gaze. "I believe you owe me for saving you."

Holding your breath, you felt a heat rush through your core as you looked into his piercing, yellow eyes.

"I-I...w-what do you want?" you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"You. As my mate."

Your eyes widened as you kept staring up into his eyes. Your ears were buzzing, mind unfocused on everything except the word coming from his lips.

Mate.

"W-What?" you flickered your eyes, the nervous beating of your heart increasing. "W-What do you mean?"

"It's your scent. I could smell it from miles away, the way only a mate could sense it. You and I are mates, destined to be together. I must confess I was disappointed at first that you're not an orc. But now that I see you, how tempting your soft and tiny body is, I can't wait to claim you. To make you mine."

Yolmar smirked and leaned down to your ear, inhaling your scent. A growl of appreciation rumbled in his chest, and the sound along with his hot breath on your skin caused a trail of goosebumps down your body. You couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe how willing your body was to accept him when your mind was still trying to protest. Yolmar's finger left your chin and slid down the nape of your neck, sending another wave of goosebumps down your skin. A keen whimper slipped from your lips and you became shamefully aware of the arousal pooling between your thighs. Yolmar growled at the sound coming from your lips, his hand landing on your waist, covering your entire hip.

"P-Please don't, I can't...," you begged, hated the uncertainty in your voice and how your body betrayed you, aching and throbbing to feel him inside you.

"I can smell your arousal, human," he growled, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, coaxing an embarrassed moan from your lips. Yolmar snickered. "You want me as much as I want you."

His hand found its way underneath your dress and undergarments, two of his long, thick fingers slipping between your soft folds and into your wet, spongy core. You gasped and grabbed his big arms as his fingers stretched you out.

"So wet and tight," Yolmar mumbled and started moving his fingers inside you, grunting at the squishing sounds your pussy was making. His cock jerked at the feeling of your wetness, twitching, and hardening to life, eager to fill your tight, little cunt to the brim.

"Oh fuck," you gasped at the feeling of his fingers thrusting into you, didn't understand why you didn't stop this stranger, this monster, from doing this to you. Most of all, you didn't understand why you wanted him to do this, why your body seemed to crave his touch. Maybe it was true what he said? That the two of you were destined to be mates.

"Such foul words coming from such a sweet, little thing," Yolmar chuckled, the sound vibrating through your core. "Tell me, my little human...Do you crave my cock inside you?" At the last word, he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, pushing against your g-spot and you screamed out in pleasure.

"Y-Yes! Please, yes," you whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeatedly thrust his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

Yolmar grinned and took out his fingers from your pussy, his hands violently ripping the dress from your body, leaving you only in your undergarments. You gasped, wanted to cover your bare chest when the orc stared at your breasts but didn't have time to react before his calloused hand cupped your tits. "Pretty," was all he said and kneaded the soft flesh, felt the weight of them in his hands, and rubbed his rough thumbs across your nipples that hardened at his touch.

"P-Please," you begged, bit your lip at the feeling of your pussy aching and clenching desperately to be filled.

Yolmar lifted his gaze, his yellow eyes filled with hunger as he removed his loincloth. Your gaze dropped, widened when you saw his enormous, engorged member pulsating and leaking with precum as it stood proudly in a curve up against his stomach.

"Oh, fuck...," you whispered, wondering how it would ever fit inside you at the same time as your pussy twitched at the sight of him.

Yolmar chuckled at the frightened wonder on your face. "Don't worry, little one. It will fit. If we take it slowly. Now, get down on your hands and knees."

You obeyed on trembling legs, jerked and gasped when he ripped the undergarments from your body and grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling your ass up in the air. Then, you felt him at your entrance, slowly pushing the bulbous head between your fold and into the tight hole of your pussy. Your eyes widened, breath coming out in short gasps through your parted lips.

"So tight. So fucking tight and small," Yolmar mumbled and howled in pleasure when the head of his cock suddenly popped inside your warm, wet entrance. At that point, he couldn't control himself anymore. Grabbing your hips harder, he bucked his hips against your ass, pushing his cock into you halfway before pulling back. You cried out, back arching and head thrown back as his huge cock stretched out more than you thought was possible. Then, he thrust forward again and you screamed a silent moan, realizing he had only been halfway inside you and he was now fully seated in your womb.

"Feels so good...so good, my sweet, little human," he crooned, almost lovingly, as he started a slow and gentle pace of fucking you, claiming you as his mate. Your vision got blurrier with each of his thrusts, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Soon, your mind became dazed and numbed, and a smile spread across your lips when all you cared about was how absolutely divine his cock felt inside you. You could feel the pressure building in your core with each thrust, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. Then, the orc suddenly pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact, of feeling so empty inside.

Yolmar pulled out and positioned himself above you, on his hands and feet as he pushed inside you again, his massive frame hovering above yours as he thrust into you. You moaned when Yolmar pushed back into you again, smiled as you looked up at him over your shoulder. You looked into his eyes and held his gaze as he quickened the pace once more, rapidly shoving his dick inside you over and over until your senses were overflowing.

Yolmar looked back into your eyes as he slammed into you hard and fast, rougher with each thrust. The slapping sounds filled the forest, blending with your high-pitched moans and the orc's snarling growls above you. The pressure in your belly intensified and finally erupted just as you felt the orc pump into you a final time, burying himself deep inside you as he came. His cock twitched inside you and the feeling of his seed pulsing into you brought you swiftly over the edge, your pussy clenching and milking every last drop out of him. Yolmar threw his head back, his loud, guttural growl echoing through the forest as he emptied his seed inside your belly. You collapsed onto the ground, panting for air and your body becoming limp as you felt his cum flow out of you, creating a white river on the dirty ground between your thighs.

"Mine," he muttered quietly and out of breath as he picked up your exhausted body.

Yours. You smiled tiredly when Yolmar cradled you in his arms, and he started walking down the path leading to your cottage.

#orc x reader #orc x human #orc smut #orc fanfiction #oc x reader #orcs #orc #monster x reader #monster x you #monster x y/n #monster x fem!reader #monster smut #monster fanfic #monster imagine #monster fucking

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queenie-the-court-jester · 9 days

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A devil in disguise

Yandere fantasy ocs x gn reader

They're not really yandere in this fic, I'm saving that for later

Tw: none that I can think of, not proofread 🌺

⭐you were just an ordinary villager. Living in a cottage you Inherited, making a living by owning a bakery in the nearby village. You didn't think there was anything appealing about you. Nothing making you stand out. Well, the villagers thought differently. It was mainly filled with different mythical races, making you the only human.

⭐one day you were setting up shop like always, a suitor or two trying to get your attention when suddenly screams could be heard from outside. Rushing to see what was the commotion, a young.. girl? Man? Was fighting off a horde of wild goblins. Littering the ground with their little bodies. They fought valiantly, slashing one after the other.

⭐in the end they came out victorious, but heavily injured. You herded the other villagers away, a bar maiden helping you pick up the adventurer and taking them to your little bakery. She set them down and quickly left as you looked for your first aid, carefully cleaning up the blood and grime off their face.

⭐you did end up requiring to remove their clothing to better patch them up, sincerely hoping they wouldn't feel uncomfortable once they woke up. You stayed overnight in the bakery since your cottage was pretty far and you didn't want to leave the newcomer alone. The sound of fabric rustling woke you up.

⭐ lifting your gaze upwards, you were met with big green eyes staring into your own, faces inches apart. Their blonde hair was messy and a strand draped across their face. They reached a hand out, and booped your nose before pulling away. Intently observing the room.

"uhm.. thank you for fighting off those feral goblins. What is your name, sir or ma'am..?"

"Gideon. What is your name, lovely lady?"

"y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you"

⭐Gideon thanked you repeatedly and offered to help you out for a bit. You agreed, and with the time they spent with you,you learned they were a he. They didn't mind any pronouns, just that they were born amab.

"you see. I was on my way here to wait for my friends when I noticed those nasty green bastards hiding in the bushes. I couldn't just let those vermin attack such a lovely village."

"you're very brave Gideon.. I wish I knew how to swing a sword"

"I can teach you, if you'd like my dear"

⭐ Gideon shows you the basics of wielding a sword, he offered to show you how to hunt game aswell. The first hunt came out.. interesting. He'll have to make you exercise with him daily from now on.

⭐2 weeks have passed now, Gideon was helping you bring groceries into your cottage when you heard a loud yelling coming from not too far away

"GIDEON!? IS THAT YOU?"

⭐ turning around, you spot a girl who seems to be your age standing a few feet away. She seemed tired yet so elated. Gideon set down the basket carrying the vegetables and quickly rushed over to her

"darling! Oh there you are! Where are the others? Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?"

⭐the girl waved off his worrying, about to say something when suddenly she turned her attention to you

"Wow.. well hello there gorgeous~"

⭐the girl walked up to you, wiggling her eyebrows and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could only stare at her and laugh in mild amusement. After Gideon thoroughly disciplined her on why she shouldn't flirt with people she doesn't know, you learned that their entire party were on their way to recollect him.

⭐so now you had 2 roommates. It was pretty fun, they helped with chores and kept you company. Darling seemed to really like your bakery, helping every chance she could. They enjoyed being with you, you were so much fun! They knew they'd have to leave as soon as the others came, so One night, the two waited for you to go to sleep. Talking outside near a pond, a bit far away from the cottage

"I don't know Gideon.. they're not exactly built for adventuring with us.."

"yes.. but you weren't built for this life either. We trained you. And we can do the same for our little y/n. They already knows the basics, We'll just need to convince them before the others arrive"

⭐and that's what they did. For the next three days, they kept pestering you to join their party. So don't worry, they'll train you. Aren't you tired of this boring life? Don't you wanna explore? Just find someone to run your bakery for you until you come back!

⭐and that's how you ended up here. Catching a ride on ogmund, the party's barbarian tank. You were happily chatting away, braiding his hair while you were at it. He told you all about his tribe, orc traditions, his past adventures. You nodded along, adding input every now and then

⭐darling was walking alongside you both, chewing on something, you don't know what, and holding ogmund's hand. The orc seemed use to the girls touchy nature. Darling was the party's druid. Specializing in healing and natural magic. Her little ears would twitch, with the occasional flick of her tail. Panther hybrids were so cute.

⭐Gideon was the party's paladin, you remembered they told you about their reasoning for choosing this life. As a boy his family was slaughtered, leaving only him and his younger sibling rougé Alive. Their mothers were brothel workers while their father was the owner. Don't ask them about their family.

⭐rougé was the party's bard. They were a half elf, like their brother and very flirty and touchy with whoever they deemed as a fun pick. Darling seemed to be their main target since she gets easily flustered. You had the sneaking suspicion they often slept together with how their physical affections towards her seemed too intimate. The only reason they didn't come after you so often was because they didn't ogmund to snap their spine in half

⭐mikal was the party's sorcerer. A stubborn little prick, proud and haughty. Just give him a good thwack on the head and he'll shut up. Once, you you were playing with his hair and he stood rigid the entire time. Simply nodding when you'd compliment his beautiful silver locks. It contrasted well with his near black skin. Who knew dark elves were so sexy? (Fucking everyone)

⭐venus was the party's cleric, and boy, darling had massive beef with him. For what reason? You don't know, they just really fucking hated eachother. Venus, out of everyone, was the most reserved. It'll take you a whole to tear down his walls but you'll get there eventually.

⭐from what the party told you, you were on your way to save a couple friends. You were practically buzzing with excitement, your first real adventure! Maybe you'd find a fighting class that suits you best while you're at it.

⭐ blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from stop the trees..

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pursuitseternal · 5 months

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“Seducing:” smut with angst update to ETL Astarion x f!Tav (OC) in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x f!OC | E | 4.4 K of flashbacks, angst, and smut

Summary: After defeating the Goblin, a celebration is in order. And there is only one Cordehlia wishes to accept as far as his seduction goes. And it ends in a secluded little grove, someplace quiet and intimate, where things don’t go totally according to seductive plans.

Spoilers: Tiefling party and Act 1 Romance retold

CW: angst, flashbacks, lost love rekindled, first time part 2, trauma triggers, sexy shirt swap with consequences, Cordehlia breaks her 200 year dry spell

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Chapter 6: Seducing…

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Festivities, a celebration. But all words of joy and mirth and rewards slipped barely past her muted ears. Cordehlia smiled, shaking hands and accepting the thanks of the Tieflings, but it only vaguely entered her consciousness.

To hear her name again, spoken with unholy admiration… with fearful awe from her companions… it agitated her. Stirred her.

Not that any of them treated her differently for it, not even those that had remained at camp, who missed the images as they flashed in her mind through the tadpole.

Shadowheart even seemed… nicer because of it. Impressed that she wasn’t some full-blooded High Elf to look down on her as a half-elf. That she wasn’t some entitled, prissy noble to cast judgment on others. The cleric had even smiled at her as Cordehlia cleaned and sharpened her infamous blade.

If anything was off, it was Astarion’s distance. Keeping himself on the other side of the group, even as his eyes watched her every move. His mouth teasing at the corner, a flicker in his eyes once they locked their gazes.

Oh, he was good, she thought, as she smiled slightly, knowingly, wagging her fingers coyly as she waved at him through the crowd. Smiling wider as he nodded in reply. Making himself scarce to draw out her lust. Making her long for his closeness by forcing some distance.

She sniffed a derisive if amused laugh.

As if they hadn’t stood shoulder to shoulder being drenched in blood. As if he hadn’t stolen a little kiss in the middle of the Goblin camp when no one was looking, his words sweet and sensual, how she never looked more beautiful than she did in that moment.

As if he hadn’t licked the blood of her enemies spattered on her neck before taking a quick bite of her living essence. Just to replenish before the next attack, he had reasoned with a smirk and a caress on her lips. A kiss so coppery and salty with her blood.

She sighed at the memory, however recent. Her body hummed, that shadow of bloodlust slinking back into its den. Sated for now, sated by killing for good. If this was being a hero, as the Tieflings named her, then perhaps…

Perhaps she wasn’t unredeemable.

Perhaps she could join in the festivities.

She eyed Astarion from across the gathering, watching as he threw her a glance, his pale hand snatching a green glass bottle of wine to raise it to his lips. She shook her head, wondering just how much wine it would take to make a Vampire feel any effects.

“Well,” a warm voice caught her attention from over her shoulder. Cordehlia turned to find Gale’s soft smile curling his lips, a bottle in his hand of the same looking vintage. “I shouldn’t be so taken aback that you show as much prowess with the blade as you do with your unflappable wisdom of leadership, Cordehlia,” he commented, his lips moving a bit… strangely. As if he was trying to smirk.

“Hmm…” Cordehlia cocked her head, drawing back a step. “Is this your attempt at flirtation, master wizard?”

“I was going for seduction,” he hemmed his eyebrows raising in shock into his hairline. “But I would settle for flirtation to be sure.”

Cordehlia’s face quirked, amused and yet… not all at once. “Do not think me ungrateful, Gale, but after a long day… after revealing my rich and bloodied past, I’m most surprised you would make such an advance.”

“What better time to assure you of my affection and loyalty other than after such a bloodied revelation,” he replied, so seriously, edged with concern. “I want you to know I find you charming despite such a troubling past… but we all have our trials. We have all made our own dark sacrifices…”

“Who said that anyone should appreciate her charms despite such a past?” that silken, sultry voice purred from beside her. Close beside her. Astarion stood, bemused, drinking from his wine bottle and sneering. “I rather find it all the more arousing…”

Crodehlia turned to stare at him, her gaze exacting but… not cold… not uninviting.

“Says the one who was part of her past…” Gale scoffed. “I do not think I am in error, however, I can see when my attentions are no longer pleasing.” He bowed his head, “Just do not forget, Codehlia, the choices of our past do not need to define our choices in the present.” He looked into the distance, rubbing that strange mark on his chest. “At least, that’s the hope I have to cling to, in my own case. Good night to you.”

With that, he gave one last longing grin before turning to be swallowed by the milling crowds.

Her vampire rogue sucked his teeth, shaking his silver head in feigned pity. “I do so hate to see such sensitive souls running with their tails between their legs when you turn them down,” Astarion smirked wickedly.

“You love it, Astarion,” Cordehlia matched his taunting expression.

“Well, can you blame me?” he purred in reply. “Gale looks so dejected, especially after I heard him rehearsing his offer of romance with you over and over again. All the way from the Goblin camp back here.”

“It was very eloquent,” she shrugged her shoulders demurely. “So many words, so much feeling…”

Astarion lowered his bottle from his lips mid-drink. “Well, if it’s eloquence you want, darling, you had but to…”

Cordehlia grabbed him by his collar, pulling him close enough at last. She latched onto his smirking, twisted, irritating mouth. Kissing him silent.

It was not words she wanted. No, she craved action.

That bottle dropped at their feet. His hands instantly pressed at her back, that cold, commanding touch drawing her flush against his unyielding body.

“Yes,” she rasped between the hungry working of his lips on hers. “Yes, I turned him down flat. Yes, I hated his judgment of my past.” She moaned as his tongue darted between her lips, tasting her sweet words of desire. “Yes, is my only answer for you…”

“Yes what, darling?” he growled into her mouth, hands skating up the linen of her shirt, down the softness of her breeches. “I want to hear just what you’re agreeing to…”

“Yes, I will meet you. Yes I want you… I have always wanted you. I never stopped wanting you…” She couldn’t stop now either, not with how her body was burning up after the day, not with how intoxicating it felt to have his mouth on hers again after so, so long. Her words, her kiss, the way her innards went molten to have him pressed so hard against her body… none it would stop now.

“Where?” he groaned into her mouth, his fangs tugging on her lower lips to make her sigh. “When?”

Gods, his hand clawed around her neck now, bringing her all the closer. Until she couldn’t tell what was his breath or hers any longer.

“I know some place quiet,” she whispered, breaking to look into his lust-glazed eyes. “Someplace we can…”

“Fuck?”

“I was going to say find some intimacy…” she gave a little giggle, deep and flirtatious in her throat.

“You know, my tent is just around the bend, darling…” his fingers, so light and so cold on her neck traced so featherlight on her skin.

“Too public, too conspicuous,” she grimaced with a pout. “And I doubt either of us will be very secretive. We have centuries to make up for.” Her lip twitched, her eyes locked into those crimson ones. For a moment, she loved them more than the old ones, the ones as deep violet as the night sky. These… these fit him. These reflected her own soul now. These echoed the blood she had been bathed in, same as him.

And he would never begrudge her that past.

“In that case…” he purred, letting her body go from the strength of his arms, “won’t you lead on?”

Cordehlia looked around, most of the Tieflings were too drunk by now to really care or comment on their moment of passion. And as for her party of companions… well they all would learn eventually.

“Take that path, follow five minutes after me,” she whispered, nodding towards the dirt road behind her. She pursed her lips and batted her eyes. “See you there, darling…”

She waited. Counting her every breath. Regretting one thing, that she had separated from him. Counting on him to come.

That ancient panic crept over her heart again. The one that had been her only companion as she had waited at the roadside for months. Clinging to his letters until they, too, were stolen from her.

All but one.

She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling where she kept it stashed away. Hidden inside her tunic. Her own little secret over the centuries. Kept close to her heart.

Didn’t even need to read it anymore to recite the lines scrawled in his unfading, neat and tidy script.

It had been the last letter to arrive. Once she had lost all hope. Once she had lost all his other letters to the winter wind.

But it was also the one that had made his disappearance, his death, filled with indescribable pain.

His words were soft, sweet seduction. Details of how he longed for her, how he was to send for her since, at last, his final, infamous case finally closed to great approval and effect. This was the one to launch him into fame and favor.

He was coming to fetch her. To marry her. To make her his.

He had written of how much he longed for her, the taste of her and not just her mouth, the heat of her skin as it had felt beneath him, the way her body had moved with him and held him that one night….

Gods, she swallowed, keeping the tears from her eyes as her heart raced.

Even now, waiting for their reunion, it was too painful to recall.

Breathing, she reminded herself he was coming. That it was better this way. That he had no memory of what once was… of what had been lost.

Something crunched behind her, making Cordehlia turn slowly, her face suddenly breaking into a smile of relief. Brilliant and shining. And wanton.

He stopped just shy of her, already so close on his silent, roguish footsteps. “There you are…” he crooned, drawing just a breath away from where she waited. “I just couldn’t wait any longer, darling, after all,” he flashed her that ravenous smirk, lowering those heavy-lidded crimson eyes scanning her up and down, “we have been waiting long enough…”

Some more than others, her mind purred in anticipation. Her breath caught in her chest as his hands wandered towards her hips. His touch was heavy, insistent. Conjuring her body to throb at the first contact he made.

“There is nothing I want more, darling Cordehlia, than to celebrate your victory, just you and me…” his touch still, his eyes widening, softened and pleading. “Assuming your answer is still that same resounding yes…”

“Yes, I am eager for your seducing,” she interjected at the same time. Her hands pulled at the edges of his tunic sneaking under the light fabric to caress him, but instantly, she felt him brace himself. Rigid even as his hands tried to flutter naturally over her own body.

“As am I,” he raped the words, letting her fingers slowly, gently. His breath was slow… measured. His stomach muscles bunched and clenched as she stroked.

He was harder than she recalled, leaner. The muscles and frame of one who was always fighting… fighting for life, for survival, not just as her ferocious rogue. His head shook a bit as her hands explored his skin, wagging back and forth as if he was drinking in her touch. “I can make you feel every inch of me, darling, if that is what you seek.”

“Gods,” she breathed, her hand tugging his shirt higher, leaning in for a kiss.

A kiss she found firm, demanding, insistent.

Distracting. His hands caughts hers, a little charming laugh on his lips and he pulled them over her own head. “Oh, my darling, my lady, you don’t lift a finger tonight,” his voice so honeyed, it almost tasted too sweet. “You don’t need to touch a thing…”

Swiftly, he backed her into the nearest tree, and her body was more than willing to respond. He was just as magnificent as she remembered, powerful and sleek.

Even more now, her centuries old vampire.

One hand pinned her arms over her head, his hips bearing into hers, rough and hard and grinding against where she ached. Where she burned for more of his seducing.

His touch wandered beneath her tunic, hard and cold, ghosting just barely over her belly and up to cradle her breast. His lips mesmerized her, pulling her into his every movement, his touch consuming her making her mind lose itself, a thrall of his body.

Before she knew it, he had thrown her shirt over her head, hands softly drawing her burnished lock free, and extra little tuck of the most errant strands behind her pointed ear before he pinned her hands above her again.

That hair tuck, the little extra brush of his fingers over the tip of her ear… it made her shiver and shudder. From pleasure. From recognition. Another thing he had done so long ago, and from the way he gazed at her with all that predatory lust that hardened his chiseled features, she doubted it meant the same to him.

But it was a tragic thought soon swallowed up as his mouth pressed against her neck. A hungry kiss, an unspoken question as he dragged his fangs over her unopened veins.

She tugged against his confining grip, managing to let one hand slip. One had she immediately ran into those silver, unruly, untamable locks to press his mouth all the closer against her skin. It was all the permission he needed, sinking his fangs into her neck with her next breath. Making a cry ring from her lips as he began to suck on her blood, his lips loud and wet as he drank her down. The feeling of that new, intoxicating union, of her blood filling his body, it once again distracted her, occupying her every sense until she realized his hands had loosened her breeches, his long, dexterous fingers slinking their way down her thigh, cupping her swollen mound.

He lifted his mouth, licking his blood red lips, like a beast that had fed and fed well. That smirk made her body quicken to life, a spasm taking her breath away, her loins clenching hard enough that he could feel it in his palm. And it only made that smirk widen, more ravenous and feral.

“Seems like you require little seducing, my sweet,” he purrs, the tip of one finger parting her folds to dip into her slick.

“Seems like you underestimate what hundreds of years of waiting will do to a female,” she panted back, trying to tug her single, remaining hand from under his iron hold.

Something softened in his face at her words, that heavy curtain of desire lifting as a gentle smile teased one corner, one still-bloodied corner, of his mouth. “You… you waited?” he whispered, the words almost stuck in his throat. Almost choking on them as he swallowed.

“Our kind… we don’t enter into the promises to marry lightly. There is magic, binding… vows that last centuries once exchanged…” Now it was her voice that stuck, his fingers stilled deep between her thighs.

“Oh, darling…” he crooned, that finger inside her curling and twisting and pumping once more. “Then I shall make this night all more delicious for you, Cordehlia…”

“Let me for you as well,” she rasped, her voice filled with the pain of all her tormentous years. “It’s like… you’re back from the dead for me.”

His face tweaked, a firmness to his lips, a menacing glint to his eye. “If only that was true…” he hissed.

Cordehlia shushed him, her free hand running her nails down his scalp, down his neck, slowly straying over his shoulders and down his back…

He snapped. Fangs bared at her touch. Growling as she touched… something on his flesh. Rises and ridges hard and puckered beneath her fingers.

“Are - are those scars?” she whispered.

“I was trying so hard,” he hissed, voice so scratched and deep it was almost hard to understand. “Hard to keep you from seeing them, from touching them…”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

He spat, furious and unbridled, “Know? Of course you didn’t know… even I don’t know what they look like. It’s not like I can view the atrocity Cazador carved in my own flesh, can I?” He pulled his hand from her thighs, drawing back a step, the muscles of his chest heaving with every shaky breath he took. “It’s not like I can undo any of that, to take it all back and begin again from the life I had once…. That we had once…”

His eyes widened, softened at that.

“I know,” Cordehlia kept her distance, but she still held his gaze, as irascible and enraged and tormented as it was. “None of us can, and none of us should,” her voice was smooth, a balm to his wounds. “You would have told me the same.”

“It’s harder to enact that advice than it is to give,” he growled again. “These scars on my back… he made them over the course of a single night, carving them and recarving them each time I so much as screamed or squirmed or breathed… it was not half so cruel as making me whore myself out, seducing anyone and everyone I could to be fodder for my master’s meals, at least these wounds healed.” He shook his shoulders. “There are things I’ve done that I would never speak aloud, things I’ve had done to me that I…”

His eyes went blank. His gaze locked into the distance, staring without seeing into her face.

“Astarion, I’m so, so sorry… You need not explain…” she began, reaching a gentle hand for his cheek, to stroke his ear.

But he only recoiled, hissing like a feline and baring his teeth at her. “Perhaps you better go find a way to celebrate with someone… less…” he stopped. His face tweaked with remorse and regret. “Less dead inside,” he finished.

She slid away, giving him the space for which he asked. Grabbing a shirt from the ground, she started to return to camp. Her heart broke, her mind racing. Perhaps he was… perhaps so little remained of what he was. Perhaps she was too much of a weight on his soul, an anchor holding him down in his past and his darkness than a way for him to heal at last.

Hurriedly, she threw on the shirt, eager to leave him behind. But she froze.

It wasn’t hers.

That citrus scent. Bright and sharp and clean. The linen hanging from her frame so large, its ruffles cut so deep, her breast nearly peeked out. It was his.

With a groan, she turned on her heel. His shirt on her back was the last thing she could stomach tonight.

She returned in a moment. He had barely moved in the clearing. His back angled towards her, those scars covering every inch in jagged lines and dots and whorls. Infernal, she took note, but it wasn’t as much of a shock as what she observed in his hands.

Her shirt hung at his side, gripped tightly in his fist. And his other… it held up that nearly two-hundred year old scrap of paper. She watched his profile, his lips licking, his eyes rapidly scanning his own neat little scrawl…

“Astarion…” she breathed. His head snapping up as she approached.

“I…” he panted quickly, eyes wide in a strange sort of panic. “You… we…”

“Yes,” she smiled, a barely turned smile, one that dripped with all the sadness in her ancient heart.

“This is my handwriting,” he whispered, her footsteps cautious as she closed the distance between them. “I… I sent this. That very day I was killed and turned. I wrote this from my desk, my pen leaking from dashing it off so quickly. My heart raced with the anticipation of seeing you again… of holding you again and kissing you again and…” his mouth closed shut. A grimace of pain as he closed his eyes. As if he was feeling it all over. “…of making love with you again. As we had before I… I…”

Cordehlia’s heart rapt so fast. The thrill of his memory, the slice of agony it was conjuring between them. Forcing them both to relive those days.

“That night before you left, I wanted to give you something to remember me by, Astarion. And you, you were so proud, so eager. You couldn’t get enough that night, promising me that the next time we would join in that way, we would be one in our vows…”

She trailed off, for a moment, that memory flashed in her mind, of warm firelight in the forest… of the heat of his body covering her as he slid inside her so slowly and tenderly for the first time…. How she could feel his heart beating in his chest, like a tether crafted between their souls that sang in their blood the moment they coupled.

She realized as she looked into his eyes, he had seen it too. His eyes soft and wide as the memory passed before his vision. But that hold of the parasite was dormant. No, this was a different kind of magic. A different kind of bond.

He dropped everything from his hands, fingers clawing into the fabric of his shirt on her body, pulling it off her in a fluid motion. They crashed together, mouths and hands and bodies crushing one another. Famished for that feeling of one another again.

No more pretenses or games or seductive manipulations. No more shadows of fear. No more guilt for the phantoms of their sins and bloodshed. No longer victims or monsters or killers.

It was only them.

Only the taste of one another’s tongues. Only the hurried fumbling of their hands to slide their breeches to the ground with all their burning haste.

It was madness, maddening how just on fire her body was, how even as he laid her down in the grass and covered her with his powerful body, how every inch of his skin was so cold and smooth and hardened with muscle, he still felt so good. So familiar.

The grass on her back, the persistent grinding of his length, now hardened and freed and pulsing against her mound and stomach… it was that intoxicating mix of thrilling and healing all at once.

His mouth devoured her breath, feasting on the feeling of her tongue, her flavor, her taste consuming him.

He didn’t even once withdraw, no flinching as her hands ran up and down his back, hugging him so close, making him crush her into the earth.

And he, he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get lost in her anymore than he already had. Every kiss, every brush of her fingers, every buck of her hips beneath him… he was found again. More found than he had felt in all those lonely years.

Her legs raised, gripping around his hips, body arching and voice crying his name for him to take her. As if he needed anything more to seduce him. A slight angling of hips, and he slid right in. It was so wet, so tight, she felt virginal still.

His. All his.

He had been between countless legs, gotten on his back a thousand times.

But this… there was nothing sullied or spoiled. Nothing like compulsion or coercion. Not even a hint or manipulation.

Just the way she felt around him, the way she looked into his eyes, those bright silver ones that refracted the starlight. She moved with him as one, every thrust sending him deeper as she bucked against him. Every arch of her back and swivel of her hips, it made his mouth water, his body humming with actual desire and need.

He couldn’t look away, even if he had wanted to. The way her face contorted and grinned and sweated… he wanted to commit every detail to his new memories. Instead of chasing the vestiges of what was. He thrust every inch of him through her, gasping every time he felt her throbbing around him. Wanting to taste her, wanting to watch her, wanting to fill her to bursting.

He wanted to satisfy her. To make her feel him fucking and fill her with so much pleasure, it was all she could think about when she looked at him with those beautiful, exacting eyes. Most of all, he wanted to come back to her after everything they had endured apart, to give her everything she had longed for all those years.

One slip of a finger between their legs, he stroked her, teasing her hard little clit with all the dexterity he could muster, so close to coming undone himself.

Her mouth flew open, voice catching and moaning and sobbing. Her body grew so warm, so wet, and every spam that consumed her as she came, every writhing twist and clench of her as he thrust… It made him smile. It made him alive. Alive enough to steal his breath as he came too, pulsing and throbbing as he filled her, exhausting him for the moment as he lowered down into her soft and yielding embrace.

He panted, forehead pressed against her temple, nose tucked neatly against her chin. Licking his lips, he smelled her scent. That meadow-flowered freshness that instantly filled him with those new-found memories. Her veins throbbed against his face, her heart beating so hard, for a moment, he thought it was his own.

Back from the dead.

“Gods,” he swallowed, out of breath and unable to raise his head. “That was…”

Her hands lifted the deadweight of his head, bringing his still-suffocated mouth to her own. “Shhh,” she smiled into pursing lips. “Just do it again, please.”

“With pleasure,” was all he could manage in reply.

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Thank you for all the comments and notes! I do so love seeing your reactions and favorite parts… and this one is a doozy 💞

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