#much of it. frightening to behold (naked
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Untamed (chapter 4 of 5)
Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader
[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.
[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.
Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5
[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]
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Hawks had gone on an early morning flight the following day, before you had stirred from sleep, leaving you alone in the cabin for the first time.
He was reaching the apex of his rut. The cabin was beginning to feel like the inside of an oven. That was great for keeping his mate warm, but not so great for him in his current state, where he felt like he was roasting alive.
Outside, the winds were cold, almost punishingly so. Under normal conditions, he would have been wrapped up in his fur coat. However, now, he was wearing a loose T-shirt more suited for summer, baggy cargo pants and military boots.
He took off into the sky, soaring at great speeds that would make him near impossible to see with the naked eye, assuming anyone was actually around to spot him in the first place.
He'd soar up high, then let himself descend in a tumbling spiral, then catch his fall above the trees and rocket between the branches, sometimes letting the bottoms of his boots skim the trees to shake the snow off.
He always loved the feeling of the wind through his feathers; but, the sensation was more intense during his rut. While pain receptors didn't exist in his feathers in the same manner as his flesh and bones, he could still process feeling.
During his rut, feeling was intensified in his wings. He almost thought he could breathe the air through his feathers. Perhaps, it was why he felt so unbearably warm, why your touch had reduced him to a blabbering animal.
It was difficult to resist the desire to bring you with him on his flights, to hold you against his chest and feel your body clinging to him while he descended.
It was exciting to think about what kind of noises you would make. He hoped that you would find it exhilarating. He wanted to feel your heartbeat thundering away from the rush, to see red tinting your cheeks and tears in your eyes.
Instead, Hawks floated alone and let the late winter air bite away at his skin while the winds brushed along his feathers. It was soothing more so than chilling. Despite how unfitting his clothes was for the weather, not even the tips of his fingers felt cold.
The winter breeze had relaxed him, but not for long. Despite the obvious chill in the air, Hawks was still sporting a painful erection. He avoided touching it, knowing full well that masturbation was pointless. Enduring this alone for years taught him that it would likely only irritate him further.
You were here, you were safe, you were his, you wanted to be here, you wanted him. Your scent was all over the nest and his bite mark was a heavy eyesore on your throat. There wasn't another human for miles. But, despite the obvious fact that there was no reason for him to feel uneasy, his nature wouldn't allow him to rest.
His rational side wanted to let you relax, to give you some reprieve from him, from what he did to you and intended to do again. The beast, however, clawing under his skin, wanted to have you again.
Hawks flew some, and then some more, letting time slip away, until he was agitated to the point that his hands were digging into his outer thighs, nails threatening to rip his clothes.
Snow began to fall on his way back to the cabin, and the gentle wind hurled it to and fro. He could feel the soft droplets fluttering against his skin. The snow felt cold, of course, but he didn't really process it. All he could think about was getting back to you.
When he crossed the threshold, it was like entering another world. The outside whistled with the harsh wind and kicked snow inside, suddenly silenced when he slammed the door. He felt the sudden security of being in his nest, enclosed, private, safe, where it smelt like freshly cut logs and you.
As Hawks stepped into the living room, he realized that you had migrated away from the bed, likely due to the cold. You had brought some blankets and pillows over and haphazardly arranged them in front of the fireplace. You had even dug a rolled-up futon out of the supply closet to pile the bedding on top of. He had forgotten that was even in there.
His boots thumped against the wood floor as he walked, catching your attention. You peered up at him, your eyes failing to mask your excitement at his return.
At a glance, Hawks could see that you had showered while he was away. Your hair was clean, just a tiny bit damp at the ends. As he got closer, he could faintly catch a whiff of the well water that fed into to the cabin lingering on your skin.
It was only natural that you would want to clean off after what he had done to you the past couple days. Hawks was well aware of that and was trying to remain calm about the whole situation; but, the truth was, he was annoyed by your actions.
You had washed him away.
Of course, that could easily be remedied.
Hawks advanced towards you, mindful to not step on the blankets with his boots, to not dirty the nest you made. He lowered onto his haunches first, taking in the sight of you, the sight of the bedding you had arranged without him. You had slipped on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, not suitable for the weather, but suitable for him. Like this, your body was very accessible, that much was certain.
"I made breakfast, if you're hungry?" you offered, clearly not at all perturbed by his looming and staring. He didn't look annoyed, but oddly intrigued, maybe even flattered by your behavior.
"You have snow in your hair," you observed, smiling at the sight of pale white crystals caught in his blonde locks. You leaned up and reached for him, carefully tousling his hair to shake the snow free.
He waited until you were done preening him and suddenly jerked forward, pushing you onto your back with his torso. He followed with you, knees pinning you beneath him, one falling between your thighs.
When you peered up at him, unperturbed by his behavior, Hawks' gold eyes narrowed and his fangs bared. A sound that you didn't know he was capable of making snarled from behind his teeth and echoed around the room.
It was a growl, not like anything you had heard from a dog, or any animal, really. You didn't know that he could make noises like that. It seemed unfitting for the calm, polite hero that you knew so well. Then again, he had warned you about this.
Maybe, this whole experience was doing something to you, changing you; or, more likely, he was helping you discover things about yourself you never knew existed.
The growl didn't frighten you at all. It made you tremble with excitement, made your skin prickle with goosebumps and heart flutter, made wetness pool between your legs.
Spurred on by him, maybe wanting to rattle the beast's cage a little, you decided to be daring. You lifted a leg, pressed your foot against his chest, and pushed against him. Of course, he didn't budge at all. He was much stronger than you normally, and especially unwavering in this state of mind.
"Take off your clothes," you requested, trying your damn best to sound powerful, unyielding. You sounded firm, sure, but you didn't sound as strong as you wanted to, maybe not strong enough to coerce a beast.
Yet, Hawks' gaze softened, surprising you. He had told you he wanted you to be yourself, to not succumb to his every emotion. It kept him grounded, reminded him that you were here of your own free will, because you wanted to be. Your demand sobered him.
"Whatever you want," he uttered, sultry and low, and it made you tremble with excited goosebumps.
He leaned back, rising to his feet, and began shucking off his clothes in record time. His boots hit the floor noisily before he fumbled with his belt, having it barely undone before it was dragged down his hips by his pants.
He wasn't wearing underwear, you realized, as he shucked his pants off his feet. He lifted his arms and tugged his shirt over his head. The fabric hit the floor and, rather than throwing himself on top of you, Hawks remained standing.
His wings were spread out behind him, crimson feathers bright and imposing. His gold eyes were vibrant, staring you down like a predator seconds away from laying claim to its prey.
However, it didn't go unnoticed to you that he was standing there to allow you to appraise him, as if you had never laid eyes upon his nudity before.
Despite the cold, he had a faint sheen of sweat that was glistening in the light coming from the fireplace, outlining taut abdominal muscles. He hadn't eaten much since his arrival, and that much was obvious by the exaggerated tightness around his core, muscles more enhanced than you had ever seen before.
It felt almost shameful to stare at his crotch, but it was damn near impossible to not admire the heavy cock between his thighs. It was a sight to behold, just like the rest of him. The trail of pale blonde pubes leading from beneath his belly button was practically begging you to stare.
Still, you dragged your gaze back up at his face, where he looked surprisingly anxious, as if there a chance in hell you would tell him no. Sometimes, it was astonishing to think that someone so beautiful could have an ounce of self-doubt. But, he did. Even if he managed to hide it well, you could always spot it, the fear of not being good enough.
"Keigo," you uttered, voice sounding weak over the sound of the crackling fireplace.
Your arms lifted, hands reaching out for him, beckoning him into an embrace. You blinked and suddenly, he was on top of you, torso ushering you back into the sheets while his hands clawed at your shorts, dragging them down your legs.
Hawks panted into your neck, nails biting at the fleshy meat of your thighs as he tried to will himself to calm down. He was being nonsensical. You had been together for a while now. He had fucked you in every position he could possibly think of, held you at night when he could and kissed your mouth like you were his.
Because you were. Yet, despite all that, he felt so pleased that you still chose him, again.
When your hands slid over his shoulders and felt the burning heat of his skin, you felt a tinge of guilt at his state. Deliriously, you wanted to take care of him, to be able to give him everything he needed.
One hand cradling the back of his neck, you pulled him up until his face came into view and you kissed at the corner of his mouth. Encouraged, he followed, tilting his head to capture your lips in a proper kiss.
You felt his shoulders relax as his body slid atop yours, legs tangled and torsos coming together. His hands released your thighs, opting to slide up your sides, beneath your shirt and along the expansion of your ribs, where the pads of his fingers traced the outlines of your bones.
Despite the insistent, throbbing erection trapped against your thigh, burning hot like forged iron, his kisses were gentle, ushering your mouth open to accept his tongue. He kissed you like he had forgotten what your mouth tasted like, tongue slotting over yours eagerly, moaning into the kiss senselessly.
After sometime, you pushed back against his chest until he finally got the message and pulled back from your lips. You tried not to laugh at the childishly irritated scowl on his face, his expression silently reprimanding you for stopping him.
"Lay down," you urged. "I wanna touch you."
"Don't need any more teasing, babe," he protested weakly.
Still, despite his protest, you nudged him pleadingly. Hawks groaned like you had struck him, but complied and began rolling over, bringing you above him.
You watched his wings flex and fan out comfortably beneath him, spread out across the sheets like twin, elegant blankets, mindful of the fireplace. He propped his back up with some pillows, giving him just enough leverage to lean up a little, but not quite in a seated position.
As Hawks got situated, you tweaked one of his nipples between your fingers. He yelped at the touch, shoulders twitching and wings shuddering faintly beneath him. Your hand was ripped away by a grip at the wrist; but, you couldn't hold back a smile as he glared up at you.
That glare disappeared off his face when you started wiggling down his lap. Of course he knew what was coming, especially when you cupped his weeping cock and tenderly lifted it off his abdomen. Yet, excitement clawed up his spine as if he was sincerely surprised.
He hardly registered your tongue lapping at the swollen tip, where he was sticky with precum. He did, however, painfully so, notice when you sank down, enveloping his length in your hot mouth.
For a moment, you just held him against your tongue, reveling in the salty taste and moaning when you felt him throb. You slid up to the tip, failing to notice how tense the rest of him was, back arched and staring down at you intensely, muscles tight from head to toe. When you sank back down, tightening your mouth around his shaft, Hawks cried out suddenly.
His loudness startled you more so than the sudden gush of his seed. His hands grabbed at the bedding. In the corner of your eye, you could see his feathers shuddering beneath him.
Hawks' cock throbbed with each spurt, heavy where it rested against your lax tongue. He was deep enough that his seed spilled right down your throat. You relaxed and swallowed it carefully, cheeks tinted red as Hawks whined above you.
When he came down from his high, he was still impossibly hard, throbbing against your tongue as if he hadn't come at all. You began bobbing your head, excited at the thought of getting him to come again. However, his hands suddenly flew up, grabbed at your cheeks and pulled you off.
You hadn't expected that, resulting in a wet pop and a string of saliva dangling between your drooping bottom lip and his member. Hawks stared for a moment, almost in disbelief at the sight, like something taken straight out of a porno, and not reality.
"God, you look so fucking naughty," he snarled, dragging your face in towards his, forcing you to arch over him. "Dirty fucking girl, aren't you?"
His tongue lapped against your bottom lip, catching your dripping saliva, before entering your mouth without preamble. The wet organ thrashed around senselessly, enjoying the taste of himself on your mouth. After a few seconds, he pulled back with a growl and dragged your shirt up, forcing your arms above your head to free you from the garment.
"Keigo, let me-" you whined.
"Be good," he silenced you in a gentle, albeit commanding, voice.
The world flipped when he spun you back around and your back hit the bedding. His wings fanned out above the two of you, beat against the air once, and flexed, plumes spread out majestically.
"I wanna touch you more," you protested, fingers weaving through his hair with dangerous intent. You gently dug the pads of your fingers into his scalp and watched his head lull from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.
"That's not being good," Hawks commented with a groan, making no immediate movement to stop you.
"I wasn't done," you retorted, leaning up to drag your cheek against the stubble on his jaw. You couldn't hold back a shudder at the sensation, soft yet rough hair dragging against your skin.
"Fuck," the winged hero growled, eyes opening to take you in with a faint glare.
Your felt a wandering hand smack gently against your inner thigh, forcing your legs to spread to give him space to settle between them. A digit suddenly grazed your slit, circling your entrance to gather wetness before slipping inside.
It was almost laughable to think he had gone out into the snow to cool off; yet, the heat of your core was tantalizing, so inviting that the touch alone threatened to undo him. You were already slippery and when he effortlessly sought out your sweet spot, you mewled.
Hawks groaned like you had wounded him, the sound practically vibrating from his throat and traveling through him onto you. He tilted his head to nibble at your jaw, breath hot enough to burn your skin where he exhaled against you.
"You're ready for me," Hawks commented lowly, driving his finger inside until his knuckles brushed your folds. "Did you like the taste of my cock that much? -my cum? Feel this - fuck. You're begging for it."
"You're begging for it," you retorted softly, hands carefully untangling from his hair and sliding down to cup his face. You pulled him back, away from your neck, so you could look into his eyes.
"Yeah," he agreed in a low sigh, forehead bumping against yours just a little too roughly. "Want you so fucking bad."
"How bad?" you hummed encouragingly, hiking your legs up on his waist to pull him in.
His finger slipped free, hands shifting to slide over your hips, dragging you into a place more to his liking, pinned beneath him, where you were helpless to much more than squirm. You hiked your legs up on his hips, groaning when he humped at your core, causing his cock to drag against your folds.
"Kinda hurts, if I'm being honest," Hawks groaned out lowly.
"I'll take care of you," you promised, blinking slowly as you stared back at his vibrant gold eyes.
"Yeah?" he uttered weakly. "I can just-"
His tip prodded at your entrance and Hawks cut off, moaning in a wounded manner that had your head spinning. You had seen him get pent-up and frustrated before, after week long missions and months apart; but, he never sounded quite like this.
"Yes," you whispered back harshly.
With a shift of his hips, he was suddenly buried inside you. The sudden intrusion wasn't as startling as the loud noise that escaped Hawks. He shuddered above you, crying out, wings flexing and beating the air, driving him down against you.
"Oh, fuck, Keigo," you whined, realizing he had finished the moment he slipped inside.
His cock throbbed as if to remind you that he wasn't done yet. There was a wet squelch as he slipped out and rammed back inside, nearly drowned out by a guttural, "f-fuck", that he breathed against your neck.
He thrusted a few times, rough rolls of his hips, forcing your walls to accommodate his girth. You couldn't hold back a weak groan. As prepared as you might have been, it was inevitable that there would always be some strain to take him.
Hawks must have assumed that he was taking you too hard, for he slowed down, uttering a weak, "s-sorry."
Yet, the dissatisfaction from his slow pace was far worse than the slight ache when he took it too fast. You didn't want it slow and soft. The last couple days had you wound up, prepared for the promised, carnal passion. You wanted him to fuck you like his life depended on it.
"No," you hissed out, trying to angle your hips up to bring him in harder, fast. "God - no - Keigo, harder-"
With a faint growl, he obeyed that command, the sudden hard roll of the hips forcing you to break off into a loud cry.
"Babe, I'm gonna lose it if you talk like that," he warned, words throaty and rough where they breathed against your skin.
You worked one hand into his hair while the other grabbed at his back, nails biting deliciously into his skin, holding him close, forcing your bodies together.
"I want you to," you uttered between broken moans that he forced out of you with his cock.
Hawks uttered your name lowly, a clear warning.
"God, Keigo, just-" you growled, wiggling around helplessly beneath him. He shifted his weight, holding you down with a growl, as if you were dare trying to escape him.
It was exciting, and had you babbling at him wantonly, "you're so f-fucking sexy and I - I want it. Want you to just - f-fuck me like - ahh, Keigo, your mate."
His arms suddenly wound beneath you and hoisted you off the floor. You cried out, clinging to him in a startle at the sudden verticality. Hawks leaned upright, on his knees in front of the fireplace, holding you up, pressed against his chest, hands gripping your meaty hips to hold you at the perfect angle to fuck up into you.
"My mate? -fuck when you say things like that, makes me fucking - ghhh - fu-uck - you want me to fuck you? Yeah?" he babbled on, whispering harshly right into your ear.
It was a little too close, a little too loud, and left a ringing sensation in your head. Yet, you didn't want to shy away, especially not when he started growling. Clinging to him desperately, you could feel his back muscles shifting as his wings flapped with enough force to knock some logs off the stand.
His head tilted back and took in the sight of your face. Your eyes were struggling to remain open, lips parted lewdly, cheeks tinted a brilliant shade of red.
"You look amazing," he whispered, hot breath fanning over your face. "Fucked stupid on my cock, where you belong."
You moaned lowly, head lulling against his shoulder. You felt his lips press a kiss against your temple and he continued uttering into your hair.
"Gonna fill my pretty mate with cum. Is that what she wants?" he whispered, low and sweet, sultry and downright vulgar. You didn't answer; but, he felt your nails bite into his shoulders, heard your breath briefly catch in your throat.
"Yeah, she does," he agreed, breaking off into a pleased hum.
The wet, fleshy sounds drowned out the noise of the fireplace, accompanied by your helpless mewling and Hawks disgruntled moans and grunts. You were so close like this, held up by his strong grip, chest to chest.
You sought out the strength to peer up and catch a glimpse of his wings shuddering, flexing out from his back either for balance or unconsciously, you couldn't determine. You tore one of your hands from his shoulder and dragged your fingers through his plumes, along the growth until you met his back.
Hawks cried out in a sharp roar. His pace increased exponentially as he rode out his orgasm, wheezing and panting into the space beside your head. That white-hot pleasure overtook you at some point, forcing a startled scream from your throat.
He kept going and going, only slowing down when he was certain you were finished. Suddenly, he slipped out, and the emptiness had you whimpering, head spinning and body aching.
Your back hit the bedding and then your front when Hawks rolled you over. Focused on the ache between your thighs, you barely processed the rustling of the bedding, until Hawks shoved some pillows beneath your abdomen to slightly elevate your lower half.
He propped himself up on his hands and knees, fingers splayed out across the bedsheets on either side of your torso. You felt the tops of his thighs slide against the backs of yours, cock heavy and wet against your core.
The realization of what he was about to do seemed to slap him in the face at that moment, for Hawks suddenly stopped, freezing up behind you.
"Fuck, I need you," he uttered, voice hoarse and low. "Please - please, can I keep going? -still so fucking hard."
You almost didn't recognize the sound of his voice, hoarse and desperate; but, then, his wings beat against the air, sharply reminding you that this was Takami Keigo.
Your cheek was pressed against one of the pillows, arms splayed out above your head, and you realized faintly that you must have been quite the sight, spread out lewdly for him, back curved, ass in the air, presenting to him like a bitch in heat.
There was no sense of obligation spurring your unity; or, if there was, it was an afterthought. All you felt was desire, longing for more, aching to be filled, trembling and void of any coherent thought beyond Hawks.
You could feel his throbbing cock at your entrance, his knees pushing yours apart, his arms trembling on either side of you. He was hovering some odd few inches; yet, he was panting so heavily, you could feel it fanning over your back.
"Keigo," you whispered weakly. "Don't stop."
Your scream drowned out the inhuman growl that escaped him as he shoved his hips forward, sheathing himself inside your velvety heat, as deep as he could possibly go, trying to push his hips further forward as if it wasn't enough.
Hawks fucked you wildly, huffing out sharp breaths mingled with pleasured moans. It didn't take long for him to reposition his hands, one settling on your waist while the other fisted in the bedsheets above your head. He arched over you possessively, wings beating the air to drive him forward. As unnecessary as it was, you couldn't deny the way it stoked the fire inside you.
Before you could even think to ask, one of his feathers wiggled between your thighs, nuzzling against your pearl where it flicked and twirled, pinching at the bud with just enough friction to be pleasurable, but not too hard to be painful.
"Keigo!" you cried out, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to nearly tear them.
"Say my name," tumbled from his lips, like a broken baritone. "Yeah - fuck - my name - say my name. Gonna - ahh - stuff you with my c- ahh - fuck, you feel so good - so good," he babbled on, leaving your head spinning.
He was fucking into you at the perfect angle, ensuring his cock reached your sweet spot with each and every thrust. At some point, coherent thoughts died. Nothing existed beyond the bed sheets, the fireplace, the cabin. All you could think about was the sweet scent lingering on the sheets beneath you and the explosive pleasure Hawks was forcing through your body.
He came again at some point; but, you could hardly tell. Everything was already sopping wet, seed dripping from your cunt and down your thighs, as well his. The sounds he made never ceased, inhuman groans deep in his throat that mingled with each hurried inhale and exhale, in harmony with his thrusts.
His dominant hand slid down your spine, carefully curling at the back of your neck to hold you down. As mindless as it might have appeared, you were acutely aware that he wasn't holding all his weight down.
You were familiar with the power he held, the brute strength hidden beneath his charming and silly demeanor. He could hurt you very easily if he wanted to; but, he never did. Even in this state, his self-control was mind boggling, pinning you with just the right amount of pressure to keep you still, but not enough to cause any discomfort.
'Keigo' fell from your lips, again and again, as if it was the only word you knew. Above you, Hawks seemed to be in the very state he had been worried about, that he had warned you about: blinded by the pleasure of your core, lost to the desires overwhelming his every thought for days.
At some point, he hunched over even further, hardly thrusting properly anymore and just rutting into you, and you felt his lips touch the space between your shoulder blades.
It was hardly a kiss and you realized vaguely that he was drooling a little before you felt the sting of his teeth. Hawks gnawed a path up your back, leaving behind pink, blossoming bruises, before digging his teeth into your shoulder. It wasn't as strong as the last bite, a brief sting before the pain was lost to the pleasure.
He growled into your skin, whole body quaking with sharp tremors, signaling that he had reached orgasm again. You had lost sense of your own awhile ago, always ablaze in white hot pleasure. The mere touch of his hand along your skin, every shift of his hips, the union of your sexes, had you vibrating.
You lost track of how long that went on, how long Hawks kept going, mouth latched onto your skin, slobbering and whimpering into your flesh, while his hips rolled against yours, pinning you between the floor and his unwavering form.
Everything felt too good for you to process how tired you had become, brought to the brink of exhaustion, glistening with sweat from head to toe, kept awake only by his invasion of your body, the drag of his cock along your velvety walls.
Eventually, Hawks began to slow. He carefully removed his teeth from your shoulder and gave a few more thrusts, letting out a low whine that you could guess was one last, final orgasm.
His feather departed your slippery folds, leaving you aching and spent, and he remained buried as deep as he possibly could, hips pressed tightly against yours.
Hawks nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, panting wildly, and you felt what you could only describe as vibrations rumbling from his chest, so violently that it had you shaking beneath him. It was almost alarming, but the tremors steadily waned as his breathing relaxed.
Carefully, Hawks turned you onto your side, shoved the pillow beneath you away, and curled into the space between you, pressed tightly against your back, skin touching in every spot that was possible. His wings stretched out behind him, past the boundary of the bedding and spread out across the floor, lax like the rest of him.
Hawks adjusted your legs carefully, stretching them out with his own until they were comfortably laying side by side, all whilst ensuring his cock remained lodged inside you. The strain wasn't unpleasant; rather, you were surprised by how good it felt.
"Keigo?" you uttered weakly, voice so low, you were surprised he even heard you.
You felt his lips kiss at your throat and a hand settle over your tummy, fingers splayed. He uttered your own name back, as if reassuring, before his fingers moved around, sliding up and down your side soothingly.
You willed your eyes to open and watched the flames inside the hearth dance briefly before your gaze darkened and you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sounds of the storm brewing outside and Hawks breathing softly behind you.
He didn't join you in the abyss, but watched over you cautiously, as if you could possibly be in any danger. The storm outside wasn't particularly worrisome, but it made it impossible for him to pick up sounds beyond the boundary of the cabin.
If you had turned to look upon his face, you would have seen his pupils miniscule, gold iris vibrant and wild. There was no chance that anyone would possibly disturb you, and his sensible self would have known that; but, as he was now, rut peaked and beast sufficiently satisfied, Hawks couldn't be told otherwise.
An arm drooped loosely over your waist, holding you close, and he listened to the soothing beats of your heart as you drifted into a peaceful slumber.
#takami keigo x reader#takami keigo smut#takami keigo x you#takami keigo fanfiction#hawks x reader#hawks smut
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Nobody’s Fool (Chapter #3)
Good morning! Chapter 3 has arrived! In which there's a dress up montage because... why not?
Previous: Chapter #2
Next: Chapter #4
CW: Adult language, dehumanization, references to abuse, mild non-sexual nudity
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NOBODY'S FOOL
Chapter #3: For the Apparel Oft Proclaims the Man
[Penn's POV]
At some point I must have fallen asleep, because I found myself waking up, bright light piercing though my eyelids before I’d even opened them. I was comfortable. Extremely comfortable. Compared to what I’d called a bed for many years, this was the height of luxury. If this was a dream, I had no desire to wake. Just warmth, quiet, comfort. Things I had lacked for so long I didn’t think I would ever have them again. Finally, yawning and stretching, I opened my eyes, the ceiling so far away, high, high above me. A sight I was used to beholding, of course, but nevertheless discouraging to be the first thing I was reminded of when I woke up: how little I was and how this world was not made for me.
The next thing I felt was the pain. Goddammit. My whole body ached, my head was abuzz with grogginess. My legs felt like lead. I tried to push up to sitting but my arms gave way underneath me. I plopped back down on the pillow without making a sound. I barely made a dent in the fabric, after all. Ugh.
It was so quiet and serene this morning. Such a different home than the one I’d suffered in for so long. I could only imagine the drunken and hungover guests just now picking themselves up off the floor, eyes bloodshot, heads on fire. That’s when I heard the crack of a page turning. Non-threatening but still sharp and noticeable, I turned my head over my left shoulder, to see the woman, my new owner, curled up on the couch opposite me. Her legs were folded beneath her. Her sketch pad balanced on her knees. She held a steaming mug in her right hand. Every sound, every movement, sent me into a fight or flight response. I was so used to being ambushed out of nowhere. Picked up. Thrown. Pinched. Prodded. Dropped. Out of nowhere. So I couldn’t help it if I was a little skittish around…well, everything.
I suddenly remembered that I was naked, still covered by the blanket of course, but looking at this human woman, I suddenly felt very improper without clothes. I pulled the blanket tighter around me. “Hey, don’t be scared…. Good morning.” Her smile was warm. She put her mug down on some surface I couldn’t see and placed her sketch pad and pencil on the seat beside her. Slowly, as if trying to gain the trust of some frightened wild animal, she slipped off the sofa and crawled over to me. I had to remind myself not to be afraid, but still my pulse quickened. I did my best to stay still and not cower away. Her brow was knit in a sort of compassionate worry.
She was kneeling before me now, the height of my pillow (and me) was about level with her chest, her neck and head still quite a ways above where I lay. She reached out a finger, placing it on my forehead and tracing down my hair to the back of my head and neck. It took all my effort not to flinch instinctively.
“Yeah, you’re alright. Good boy. Sweet boy. You’re doing so well, I know you still need some time to adjust….” The way she spoke to me, if it came from anyone else would sound condescending, insincere. But there was something about the way she cooed at me that felt so genuine and caring that I didn’t mind it. Let her call me all the stupid little names she wanted, she made me feel better when she spoke to me. She continued to touch me, and I worked to consciously relax the muscles where her finger stroked.
“Did you sleep well last night? I know I always have a hard time sleeping in a new place….” I smiled softly, nodding my head. I’d lie to her, why not? She didn’t need to know the memories that kept me bolt upright through much of the night. “It was good. I was very comfortable. Thank you…. Eveline….” That felt fucking weird. Even saying her full name felt wildly informal and inappropriate. That would take a while to get used to. But the way her face lit up when I used it made the effort worth it. She could see I was trying and clearly that made her pretty happy.
Now in the light of the sun, I could really look at her face. Last night had been such a blur of pain and fear that I’d hardly had the time to notice her, really notice her. She looked down at me through big, grey green eyes. She had a slender nose, plump full lips. I noticed a light dusting of freckles over her cheeks and nose. Lastly, my eyes cascaded down a thick, messy braid of chocolate brown hair that completed the frame of her face. Her skin was fair but not pale, she had a rosy color to her lips and cheeks. Her hands and fingers were slight, delicate, very soft. She had a softness and grace about her that was so welcome to me, but I imagined it allowed her to get hurt pretty often by people who had power over her.
She was quite pretty. I wondered absentmindedly if she had a partner… I wondered too if I’d have to listen to or watch them in their most intimate moments as I had been made to do for so long before now. I realized, as I shook off that disgusting thought that she was speaking to me, I perked up my ears and listened…
“So I know you’ve just gotten here and need time to settle but… is that alright with you?” I didn’t want to disappoint her or piss her off, so having no idea what I was agreeing to, I nodded my head. “Okay, perfect! Yay! It’s going to be awesome, I think you’ll really like it!” I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I had a small moment of panic wondering what I just signed on for. In the back of my mind I was still wary, still fearful. I’d known humans to be good liars who could flip on a dime whenever they needed to. Could this owner be the same? Would she be sickly sweet one minute and then threatening to crack my ribs with her knuckles the next?
I shivered, my whole body aching in response. I winced. “Oh! You okay? What’s wrong?” Her face swooped down close, a little too close, concern in her eyes. “I’m okay…. Just… sore…” I croaked out. “Of course you are, now that all the shock has worn off. Of course you are….” She cooed again, picking me up from the makeshift bed and holding me in the palm of her hand. I gasped, cold air rushing… everywhere.
I was very, very naked. I never knew what to do when this happened (which, sadly, was often, in my experience). Sometimes if I tried to cover myself it was seen as cute, other times it would piss humans off and I’d get thumped directly in the place I was trying to conceal. She didn’t seem to care that she was holding, seeing all of me. I supposed that made sense… I was just a companion to her, a toy. Clearly she played with her toys much more gently than my previous owner, but of course she didn’t see anything wrong with me being nude in front of her. I didn’t merit embarrassment. I wasn’t human. Still I squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze.
“Oh! You poor thing! I forgot you were… I’m, I’m sorry!” Huh. Not what I was expecting. She handed me that same washcloth from last night. I wrapped it around myself. She was strange this one. Unlike any human I’d ever met.
“Speaking of that…. I want to take you shopping. Do you feel like doing that now? Are you hungry?” She was asking if I was hungry? Something else to adjust to. But no, I wasn’t. With so much excitement last night and running on practically no sleep…. I felt being jostled around all day by a human would be better experienced on an empty stomach. I shook my head.
“Well okay, let’s go then!” I guess I was going in this towel? I didn’t have any other choice, but still. She kept me cradled against her upper chest and cupped palm, as she fished for her purse, keys, shoes and headed out the door. I gripped the fabric of her sweater, a warm woolen garment, to keep my balance. When we got to the car, she placed me, towel and all into her cup holder. I sat obediently, the roar of the engine vibrating all around me as we took off. I was pretty used to this. Being taken places, sat down, picked up. Whatever. You get used to building an escape in your mind as your body is puppeted around like some living doll by someone much bigger and stronger than you. I was settling in to go numb and just sit with my thoughts when her voice cut through the noise of the road.
“So, tell me something about yourself, Penn. What’s your favorite color?” I’d never been asked that question before. I had no idea… staring up through the sun roof of the car, trees and clouds flying past a bright blue sky, I blurted out “Blue.” I found it was always better to have an answer to a human’s question than saying ‘I don’t know’.
This conversation felt silly. It felt pointless. Why was she talking to me like I was a person? We both knew very well that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t trying to be cruel was she? I still had to answer whatever she asked me, but it was making me uneasy. When would the punchline come where she would laugh in my face and remind me that I was really no more than a bug she could crush the life out of at any time of her choosing? She asked me other questions: what was my favorite kind of music, my favorite smell, food, movie. I lied for almost all of them. I was grateful when we came to a stop.
“Alright, here we are. You ready, little man?” She raised an eyebrow playfully. I tried to pretend to be excited but inside I was nervous to see what sort of atrocious get ups she would dress me in for fun. I’d only been through this process twice before in my life but I knew enough to know it was going to be painful. I breathed in and out slowly, trying to steady my nerves. She gathered me up by closing a few fingers around my middle, and then placing a cupped hand beneath me to support my weight. She held me against her chest again. I gripped on for balance, and we went in, my body wrapped in nothing but a towel.
This was a pet store, of course. I could smell the stench of other animals, other human companions, as we entered the massive warehouse. People with their dogs on leashes walked by. Dogs were always curious about us. They didn’t like our scent. They scared the shit out of me. Cats were even worse, but I didn’t see any around.
Mice and rats and gerbils, about my size sniffed and scuttled around in glass boxes with wood shavings. I felt grateful at least, to not be living like that. My whole life in a tiny box with no where to go, nothing to see, nothing to do. We walked to the back of the store past the colorful fish in their tanks, to the section… my section. I waited for her to grab something and start pulling it over my head. Instead, she held me up before the rows of tiny clothing, fit for someone like me. We sat there for a while. I wondered if there was some joke that I missed. “Well? You don’t see anything you like?” She sounded disappointed. Oh! Was I supposed to—? She wanted me to pick what I wanted to wear? What was the catch? I turned over my shoulder, my confusion blatant on my face. Something seemed to click and she appeared to understand.
“Oh! Uh, yes, poor little boy, I’m asking you to pick out what you want. I’m not going to make you wear anything you don’t want to. You decide.” And???? I felt nervous. What price would I have to pay for this? I didn’t know. I shopped for a while, just like a human. I tried things on, they fit perfectly. I stood in front of a mirror and looked at myself and everything. She kept encouraging me to get more and more, reminding me that I had to have enough to change outfits regularly and have seasonal clothing.
There she was again, treating me like a human. It made me extremely wary. When I had selected what I felt was more than enough, she picked me up off the shelf and raised me to another one. “Okay, now shoes!” She seemed giddy like a small child, as if she was the one receiving gifts. Why did this make her so happy? This human made no sense to me. I found some really incredible shoes, boots, dress shoes, slippers. You name it. Then we went on to belts, ties, and finally, hats. I picked out a couple of beanies, simple enough. Then stood there with my arms behind my back. This was too much. I felt completely spoiled. “Wait, wait, wait, look at this….” She pinched the brim of a cowboy hat, white with a black band, between her fingers. She plopped it, a little crooked on to my head as I stood in the mirror. I already had on a pair of dark wash jeans, an undershirt and a plaid over shirt which I had rolled at the sleeves, as well as a pair of brown leather boots. “Look at my little cowboy! You’re so cute!” She lifted the hat off my head and kissed my hair before plopping it back. I looked at myself in the mirror…. I looked… stupid…. But it wasn’t my place to disagree with her. She insisted I get a brown felt one as well. I smiled and tried to be just as excited as her. I guess I was her cute little cowboy now…
When we arrived back at her apartment, she insisted on taking off the tags and folding everything for me, batting me away with her finger tips whenever I tried to help. “You need to rest, Penn. I’m happy to do this.” She picked me up by the collar of my new shirt and placed me back down on the pillow. “You. Rest.” She pointed at me commandingly but smiled while she said it so I didn’t think I was in any trouble. I hoped not.
I was a good little pet and did as I was told, watching her fold these embarrassingly tiny articles of clothing. How on earth she folded my socks I had no idea. Eventually, she was all done, and she carried me along with the folded clothes, into her bedroom. I’d never been in here before but I didn’t have much of a chance to look around. She placed me on the surface of her dresser as she opened the first drawer. I jumped a little as the drawer vibrated and shook the wood beneath my feet before opening into this threatening chasm before me.
“Woah, hey you're alright little guy. Didn’t mean to scare you.” I really was a pathetic, frightened little man, wasn’t I? Everything sent fucking chills up my spine. I felt bad that she had to coax and calm me practically every five seconds. She was patient… but for how long? I had to be careful not to anger her.
“See this empty half? This is for you. For now. We will get you furniture that’s your size to store your stuff in soon, I promise.” She placed a finger on my chest, rubbing my pec back and forth, over my heart. She really seemed to enjoy touching me. It was torturous at first, but now, as I was getting more used to it, it seemed sweet. Because she was so much bigger than me, even when we were close there was still this massive distance between us. When she reached out and touched me, that seemed to be her way of closing that distance. Of making our size difference not so significant for just a moment.
“Okay, mister. I think you’ve officially moved in now that you’ve got clothes on your back and a place to store them. What do you think?” I nodded, unsure what she wanted me to say. She plucked me up off the dresser with a thumb and forefinger. I clung to her fingers for support. “You’re alright, little man. I’ve gotcha….” I tried to relax, dangling there, “Well, I think we’re ready for company now. They should be here soon!”
What? My heart pounded in my throat. Company? More people? I broke out in to a cold sweat. Images and memories of the night before last crashing though my skull like breaking waves. I swallowed hard. A room full of humans and one pet was almost never, ever good news. Something always happened.
“Hey little cowboy…. Earth to cowboy….” She was waving in front of my eyes, snapping her fingers. I came to, realizing I was shaking inside her hand. “Woah, little guy, what’s wrong? Why are you so scared? Don’t shake…. Awww, you’re all worked up, aren’t you? Don’t be afraid, it’s okay.” She held me against her shoulder, stroking my head and back as she cooed.
“We talked about it this morning, remember? I told you my friend and some of his band mates were coming over for dinner? You said it’d be okay. Did you just forget and get scared again? Poor little baby… I can call it off if you’re really that afraid of people….” Shit. This was that thing I unknowingly agreed to. Well I couldn’t risk disappointing her, not after everything she’d done for me last night and today. I got myself to stop shaking as I regulated my breathing and brought my pounding heart rate down. She pulled me away from this engulfing hug, holding me before her eyes. “What should I do, Penn? What do you want me to do?” I swallowed hard. I had to be convincing.
“S-sorry, I don’t know- I don’t know what came over me there. Please, please don’t cancel your plans. I’m just fine. I’ll be on my best behavior!” I smiled. That’s what she wanted to hear wasn’t it? She brightened up. Of course! She didn’t want her shiny new toy to embarrass her in front of her friends. She needed to know that I’d behave nicely so she could show me off. Fucking hell. What new misery was bound to come of this?
There was a knock at the door. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…. Right?
#g/t related#g/t#g/t writing#giant/tiny#size difference#g/t au#g/t angst#sfw g/t#g/t community#Why is he dressed like Arthur Morgan?#Uh oh... People
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ASOS Dany I
● Summary ○ My thoughts
● This chapter opens with Daenerys aboard the Balerion, watching her dragons chase each other and feeling as happy as she could ever remember being. The ship had met a squall six days into the voyage that terrified the Dothraki, but Daenerys was not frightened because her name was Stormborn, given for her birth amidst a storm far greater than the squall. Dany remembers telling her brother how fine she thought being a sailor would be, but he had hurt her and screamed at her for it. She still misses her brother for who he used to be, the brother that let her creep into his bed while he told her stories of the Seven Kingdoms. Dany had won over the captain of the ship since her dragons had consumed the rats and his sailors loved to watch them fly, they took pride in “their” dragons, but not so much as Dany.
○ Daenerys still longs for a simple life, she is happy sailing the ocean and watching her dragons. She had wanted to be a sailor but Viserys quickly crushed that dream so she feels immense happiness on this journey. Dany still mourns for him and finds herself missing him despite everything he had done to her. I hate seeing people say that Dany wanted him dead or that she flat out stopped caring about him, that’s not true. Dany was born on Dragonstone, a volcanic island that SMOKES and smells of sulfur and brimstone, during one of the greatest storms Westeros had ever seen, the SEA raged outside and smashed her father’s fleet. Dany was born amidst smoke and salt (a ham??), just reiterating the Azor Ahai imagery.
● Jorah strikes up a conversation with Dany about dragons. Jorah lets her know that dragons live beyond men but doesn’t know exactly how long since Targaryen dragons were bred for war and that was how they died. It is no easy thing to kill a dragon, but it can be done. Arstan joins in the conversation and says that Balerion lived to be 200 years old and that dragons never stop growing so long as they have food and freedom. Arstan mentions that he had the honor of meeting Aerys and Dany asks if he was good and gentle, to which Arstan replies that he was at times, but harsh to those he thought his enemies. Arstan mentions Viserys as “prince” in passing to which Dany corrects him with “King”. She asks Arstan about Rhaegar being a warrior, he hesitates, and she replies that he may speak freely to her. He tells her that words do not win battles, and that Rhaegar was bookish until he read a passage that pushed him to want to become a warrior, then Arstan excuses himself to assist Belwas.
○ Dany learns important information in the conversation; dragons can live to 200 years, they never stop growing so long as they have food and freedom (no walls or chains), and that her father was not as good and gentle a man as she thought given the look on Arstan’s face (this is the first step to her learning his true character). I love that even after Viserys’s death she refuses to have his name dishonored or titled incorrectly. She never sought to rob Viserys of kingship and although he never ruled, he was her king. I think it says a lot about Dany’s character that she still misses Viserys and respects him even after she is free from his abuses when most im her position would curse him.
● Once Arstan leaves, Jorah advises Dany to take his words well salted. ~“A queen must listen to all," she reminded him. "The highborn and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal. One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found." She had read that in a book.~ A wind picks up and Dany is thankful to be moving fast again. She ponders her future arrival in Westeros and thinks to herself that it will be a beautiful sight to behold. Later that night Dany is naked in bed, her handmaids are in bed with her because they all sleep together. Jorah knocks on the door and Dany pulls up the covers then invites him in, sending her handmaids away so that they may speak in private. Dany shows him that she is training her dragons by tossing a piece of meat in the air for them and saying “dracarys” to which Drogon sears and consumes it. Jorah suggests to her that Artstan and Belwas may be the betrayers forewarned by the Undying, but Dany brushes this off since Arstan saved her life. He keeps trying to convince her to mistrust them and to be more weary of Illyrio. "It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone. Every man I take into my service is a risk, I understand that, but how am I to win the Seven Kingdoms without such risks? Am I to conquer Westeros with one exile knight and three Dothraki bloodriders?" Jorah finally tells her to set course for Slaver’s Bay to purchase Unsullied, that she can return to Illyrio in her own time to test his loyalty.
○ Dany loves to read books and takes the wisdom she learns from them to heart, her quote shows just the kind of Queen she is going to be; one who listens to all and draws her own conclusions with the information presented to her. Dany has a habit of idealizing Westeros, but she can’t be blamed for that since she grew up hearing only glorified tales of it from Viserys. She also has no idea just how ravaged by the War of the Five Kings the country is, it will be heartbreaking for her to see the country she wishes to rule destroyed and the smallfolk suffering. Daenerys, with no solid knowledge on how to train dragons, is very clever to begin associating “dracarys” with searing meat for the dragons, they are already highly responsive to the word. Dany knows that Jorah’s suspicions come from a place of caring, but she finds his obstinacy rightfully troubling. She knows that she cannot mistrust everyone and depend on him and her bloodriders alone, her quote is very wise and very true. Despite not having a formal education, Dany is naturally a leader with good sense and reads to educate herself often, an excellent quality of her character.
● Jorah tells Dany the story of the Three Thousand to convince her that the Unsullied are worth it, she can return to Illyrio but with a thousand swords at her back instead one one. She finds wisdom in his words but asks how she is to purchase them, he tells her that the trade of the ships would be enough. She says that they belong to Illyrio and despite being a friend of House Targaryen she shouldn’t steal from him, but Jorah convinces her that a true ally would lend her his wealth or else he is Xaro with four chins. She questions if her captains would change course, what Arstan and Belwas would do, and Jorah urges her to find out. Dany excitedly agrees to Jorah’s proposal and jumps up, forgetting her nakedness before Jorah and grabbing clothes from her bunk. Dany doesn’t have time to react when Jorah grabs her and kisses her. When it ends she covers herself and says that he should not have done that, she is his Queen, not his woman. He tells her she should take him as a husband, and the chapter ends.
○ Daenerys is unsure of Jorah’s councel, but recognizes that having a small army at her back would give her more protection and more power upon returning to Illyrio. This also gives her the opportunity to test the loyalty of Illyrio, her captains, Arstan, and Belwas which would put Jorah’s suspicions as well as her own to rest. Dany knows that Jorah desires her, but this is the first time that he acted on his desires and he did so without her consent. He crossed her boundaries, and it sets her on edge to be around him afterward. This is the beginning of Dany realizing just how clouded Jorah is by his own desire for her and how it can lead to his judgement being biased. She does care about him, but if he is to be her advisor he must give her helpful councel that will assist in her goals, not his personal motive to win her heart.
Art 1 by Veronica V. Jones 😄
Art 2 by Gary Gianni 🥰
I've been working a lot lately so sadly I lost my streak of a chapter a day for Dany month 😩 Still continuing my reread and analysis though!
#danymonth2021#daenerys targaryen#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#dany#book!daenerys#book!dany#my meta#arereadofdaenerys#asos#a storm of swords
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Flower: Zabuza x OC fem reader
!This fic is 18+!
Warnings: Swearing, big ole meanie Gato, mentions of abuse towards OC, petnames, kidnapping, mentions of beatings, unwanted touch (not by Zabuza), virginity loss, mentions of blood, breading kink, zero protection, big softy Zabs, basically porn with a plot
Word count: 3,300
Remaining silent, Hana looked down as she was dragged in chains into a large room. The room was dimly lite with wall lights, the floor was cold below her bare feet. She was dressed in basically a sheet after she was stripped of her clothes.
She knew of her fathers gambling debt with a underground drug dealer, Gato, however he assured her and her mother that it was taken care of.
Unfortunately, “taken care of" meant it came in the form of repayment with Hana's life. At 19, she was dragged from her mother, screaming as her father was ferociously beat within an inch of his life.
That’s all she remembers from that day, a mere 3 weeks ago. The look of despair in her mother’s face as she was dragged from her home, never to see her family again.
Now she stood, next to Gato as he prepared to bargain for her life.
He had informed her that she would be used as payment to a Ninja from the land of the Waves. She was expected to serve him however he desired.
Looking down, she stood next to Gato as he talked with the large, stoic man sitting on a throne.
“What is this" the large man replies looking at Hana’s small meek form as Gato smiled widely, pushing Hana forward towards the man.
“Oh this? This is part of your payment. Consider it a gift from me to you" Gato smiled smugly as the large man stood at attention.
Walking down towards Hana, she continued to look at the ground as she was too afraid to meet the eyes of the large, built man.
He gently lifted her chin up to meet his eyes as her looked into her gorgeous light golden eyes.
She was stunning. Long chestnut hair flowed freely to her back. She had a small, beautiful face and a gorgeous lush body. She was a site to behold to the rough looking demon of the mist.
“She is pure, yes?” the man said, still looking down at Hana’s beautiful face.
“As pure as snow Zabuza” Gato said smugly as he watched the man observed Hana's face more intently.
He could tell she had been beat by Gato and his men. The look of fear in her eyes told him she had seen her fair share of horrors.
He could see the tears forming in her eyes as he gently wiped them away. That one act of kindness was more than she had been shown in her weeks of capture with Gato.
“Haku" Zabuza shouted as a young, beautiful boy approached from the shadows.
“Yes Zabuza" he said softly as he observed Hana.
“Take this girl to my room” he instructed as Haku bowed to the man and walked up to the young lady.
Looking back to the floor, she followed the young boy to a large room deeper in the cavern. On one side, a large bed sat while on the other, a bath and changing area.
“He won’t hurt you" Haku said as she nodded slightly making his exit.
Sitting on the bed, Hana waits. She isn’t sure what she is waiting for but she knows the large man will come soon. She just hoped whatever he had planned wouldn’t hurt.
The door opens slowly as Hana stand, looking once again at the floor.
Zabuza looks at Hana as he approaches her. She looks up at him slowly, noticing his face covered with a wrap, and his eyes boring holes into her head.
He had a beautiful face, at least from what she could see. His hair was dark as night and his body built like a stone statue.
He stares at her for a few minutes, as if she is an illusion, one that will disappear if he blinks.
“You will stay with me" he says harshly as he looks down at her small form.
“o-ok" she squeaks out softly as the man watches her intently.
“Call me Zabuza” he says looking at you “what is your name pretty one?”
He lifts her chin softly as he stares directly into her eyes.
The name made her heart flutter as she looked to him.
“Hana" she said softly as he maintained eye contact with the large man.
“You will be safe with me my flower. Nobody will harm you" he says as he turns, walking out of the room as she sank to the bed.
She wasn’t 100% sure of the large man but for some reason, she trusted him.
The weeks go by as Hana adjusts to her new life as Zabuza's servant. He treats her kindly as she goes about tending to his every need.
She spends her days preparing meals and tending to cleaning. He doesn’t pay much mind to her as he rarely acknowledges her, preferring to remain silent in her presence.
She rarely sees the stoic man and only hears him when he is instructing Haku and his followers in combat training.
He is very loud and harsh to his men. He doesn’t hold back on their training. He knows what they need to do to be strong. He pushes them to their limits in order for them to get better fighters.
However, his strong attitude doesn’t extend to Hana. He treats her as his flower, precious and fragile. He sleeps with her nightly but has yet to touch her. His desire to claim her is primal, however he despite his rough appearance, he’s nervous to scare her.
He watches her from afar as she picks flowers and harvests vegetables. She looks so angelic in his eyes. He’s sworn his life to protect her. He doesn’t know why he feels this attachment to her but whatever the reason, he will not waiver from his path of being her guardian.
The weeks pass as Hana finds herself growing accustomed to her new life. She enjoys the freedoms Zabuza has given her. She spends most of her free time in the flower fields, picking and gathering flowers.
The flowers remind Hana of her life with her mother and father. Her parents owned a small floral stand that she would help tend in the summer and fall. She loved the smell of the fresh flowers on a warm , sunny afternoon. Nothing beat the feeling of the being surrounded by pure beauty.
One afternoon, she retreats the fields to finish making her floral crown she had been working on. She enjoyed the fresh scent of the flowers as she hummed happily, unaware of prying eyes upon her body.
“What a gorgeous creature sitting out here all alone" a voice sounds from behind her as she startles suddenly.
She stares at the two men watching her intently as she weaves flowers into her crown.
Feeling frightened, she stands up, gathering her items as she begins to retreat from the two men.
“Where are you going Angel" one of the men says grabbing onto Hana's arm harshly.
Wincing, Hana stares up to the man as she tries to pull her arm away.
“I have to go now, my-" she says before she is cut off.
“Why are you leaving so soon sweetheart? We just want to have a little fun. Maybe get to know you a little more?” the other man chimes in as they both grip her arms tightly as her eyes well up with tears. They pull her towards them as she drops her basket, trying to fight her way from the men’s hold.
“Tell us sweetheart” the one man chuckles “are you pure?”
She gulps harshly as she struggles to speak, afraid of what the men might do to her.
Tears fall from her eyes as she cries, hoping this nightmare will end quickly. She prays to whatever God’s will hear her that someone will come to her rescue.
“Let her go" a voice says from behind her as she continues to cry, thankful for her savior.
“Zabuza" one of the men says as they both push her away from them, causing her to crash go the ground.
Zabuza approaches quickly as he picks her up quickly. Grabbing onto him, she nuzzles her face into his hardened chest as her tears continue to fall.
Zabuza stares at the men as he rubs her shoulder softly. Never once breaking eye contact with the men, he asks her “Did these thugs hurt you my flower?”
Nodding fiercely, she pushed her head further into his strong figure.
Zabuza is furious at the thugs for hurting his precious flower. For soiling her with their filthy hands. Gripping her tightly and laying a soft kiss upon the top of her head, he summons Haku. Haku appears out of nowhere as he approaches them swiftly.
“Take Hana to my room" he said harshly as Haku grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Zabuza.
Walking back to the home, you heard screams sounding from the forest where she had left Zabuza and the men. Haku holds your hand tighter as he consoles you on your walk back to the home.
Guiding her to the room, Haku left Hana alone as he returned to Zabuza. He assured her that no further harm would come to her as she nodded softly.
She sat for what felt like hours waiting for the man to return. The door opened slowly as his gaze met hers. She stood from the bed as he walked swiftly towards her, grabbing her small waist and pulling her into him.
Leaning down, he laid a swift harsh kiss upon her soft lips as she hummed into his mouth. She reached her arms around his neck as he groped her soft waist.
He deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue into her small mouth as he groaned against her body. She was so small in his arms but she felt so good. She allowed him to easily dominate the kiss as she ached for more.
Pulling back, he lifted his arm to caress her soft cheek. She smiled softly as she leaned into his large hand.
“No one will harm you ever again my flower" he says as he holds her close to his large body, shielding her from any danger.
It was the first time in her life that she felt truly safe and secure. The first time since she had been forced away from her mother that she felt true love.
After the field incident, Zabuza restricted Hana's movements in order to protect her. He accompanied her everywhere she went and kept her within his grasp.
He kept a tight grasp on her waist or thigh as he sat next to her. He held her nightly as they slept. He had yet to take her purity and she was anxious. She was ready to give it to the man she had come to care deeply for.
Taking a bath in the room, Hana emerged from the warm water. She wrapped a light robe around her naked body as she untied her hair and began to lightly brush through the strands.
The door opened as she set her brush down and turned to see the face of her lover. He crossed the room in two strides as he grabbed her waist, pulling her into him swiftly.
He kissed her as her hands roamed up his shoulders to his neck. He pulled her in harder as he began to feel his erection growing in his pants as they kissed. His tongue danced on her lips as he asked for entrance to which she graciously granted.
Pulling away softly, he looked at her, placing his forehead on hers.
“I need you flower” he said softly as Hana pulled back from the large man. She turned around as she loosened the strings of her robe. She knew it was time.
Zabuza looked at Hana as she dropped the floral robe from her body revealing a perfect naked form below. She stood, with her back facing him as his eyes drank in her gorgeous nude body. Her ass was so plush and supple. Her thighs so lush and full. She was perfection to him.
He could feel his pants tighten as she looked over her shoulder toward the tall, strong warrior. She knew exactly what she wanted.
He slowly approached her as she turned her head to look forward and catch her breath. She was nervous to say the least but she was ready. She was ready to be claimed by the demon of the mist.
He reached for her soft skin as he touched her lightly. He was almost afraid she wasn’t real, that the imagine in front of him was a mirage on a hot summer day. That is mind was playing tricks on him.
Touching her shoulder lightly, he traced her upper back as she covered her breast and soaking cunt with her bare hands.
“Don’t be shy pretty one" he whispered as he kissed her shoulders, grabbing her hips as his hands trailed to massage her firm, lush ass.
She moaned as he growled in her ear, his lips tracing her skin as she kept her eyes forward, focusing solely on the pleasure radiating from behind her.
“You are so pure my love" he whispers as he bites softly into her neck, causing her to throw her head back in bliss as she moans loudly “tell me, my love, tell me you want me to take your virtue. Tell me you want me to be the only man to ever have you.”
She moans as she nods frantically. His grip tightens on her hip and his hand begins to snake down to her soaking wet core.
“Tell me pretty one. Tell me who owns you" he says as she moans, feeling his hand right above your hardened clit.
“You Zabuza, it’s always been you" she chokes out as he smiles into the crook of her neck as she rolls her head to the side.
“Let me make you feel good pretty one" he smirks as he places his large, rough finger on her hardened bud and begins to rub slowly.
She has never felt such pleasure. The sensation is so new, so different. She begins to feel a weird knot form in her stomach as she moans loudly.
Lost in bliss, her head falls back to his chest as she can feel his hardened cock straining against his pants.
He rubs small, quick circles on her clit as she moans his name louder and louder with each asking minute.
“Zabuza, it feels so good" she cries as her mouth falls open with pleasure.
He smiles as he bites down on her neck, rubbing faster as she feels her core tighten, aching for release.
“come for me pretty one, let go" he says softly into her ear as she nods frantically chasing her release. She has never felt this amazing.
She feels her breath hitching as her legs shake slightly from the overwhelming feeling of her orgasm ripping thought her fiercely.
Removing his hand from her clit, he grabs her hips as he lightly grinds his hardened member into her soft ass. He growls possessively in her ear as she feels his large member growing harder more
“turn around my love" he says sweetly as she turns to face him.
His breath stops as he gazes at the gorgeous sight before him. Her body is so perfect. Her breasts full and cunt soaking. He swears he must be in paradise.
Walling slowly up to him, Hana pushes him back to the bed as she slowly gets to her knees.
“My pretty one" he says as he brushes her hair from her face as she smiles up at him.
She grabs his pants, slowly pulling them down as he leans back on the bed.
His large hardened member springs free as she gasps at its size. She is unsure of how it will even fit in her small body.
He chuckles at your reaction as you blush “don’t worry pretty one, I won’t go too hard on you"
She smiles softly as she licks her palm and gently place it on his hardened cock. He groans as she moves her small hand up and down his cock, watching him as he groans. His groans making her cunt spasm and clench with anticipation as she thinks about his cock sinking deep inside of her.
He watches her as she continues to stroke him gently. He can see her squirming, waiting to be fucked senseless by him.
He smiles as he grips her small arm, pulling her up towards him as he lays her down on the bed.
Kissing her neck softly, he trails his lips down to her hardened nipples as he lightly sucks them.
Meanwhile, she fists his hair as he groans, rubbing his cock on the bed as he gets closer and closer to her heated core.
Looking up at her, he adjusts to put one hand beside her head as he rubs his cock between her wet folds.
Groaning as he feels her wetness seep onto his tip, he lines up with her soaking entrance as he slowly pushes into her tight cavern.
He groans as she cry lightly, tears falling from her eyes as you feel the pressure and tightness of his massive cock. She feels the sweet stretch of her cunt molding to his large cock. The feeling is new and overwhelming. It feels like she’s being ripped in half.
“you are doing so well pretty one, I’m almost in my love" he says groaning as he pushes himself past her maiden barrier and deep into her wet cunt. He kisses her tears away as he gives her a moment to adjust to his large size. He places his other hand firmly on her hip as be looks down at her beautiful figure.
“so beautiful, so wet" he growls as he slowly pulls out, pushing back in “and all mine!”
He slowly thrusts into her as the pain begins to fade and pleasure overtakes. His cock is so big, he fills her up to the fullest.
“Oh fuck Zabuza-" she moan as she arches her back, helping him to reach her magical spot. The feeling is unreal as her stomach begins to tighten with that familiar feeling.
Quickening his pace, he fucks her faster as he growls into your neck. She can barely speak. All the emerges is tiny squeaks and moans from the sheer amount of pleasure radiating from their bodies.
“Fuck pretty one, I’m going to claim this cunt. Fill it up with my seed. Make you mine" he growls as his pace picks up faster as she sobs holding onto her release.
“Fuck, please breed me Zabuza. Please I want to come so badly" she cries as he looks down at her with a growl.
“You want me to put a baby in your belly pretty one. You want to be the mother of the demon of the mists offspring" he growls as he rams into her harder and faster. His mind clouded an a lust filled haze as he thinks about impregnating his gorgeous flower.
“Yes Zabuza please, please give it to me" she screams as the cord in her stomach finally snaps and her cunt squeezes his cock deliciously.
“Oh fuck, Hana I’m going to come-" he groans as he presses his pelvis hard into her making her scream from the pressure. She can feel the ropes of cum spurting into her fertile womb as her mind begins to clear.
Breathing heavily and looking down at her he sees her soft, beautiful smile as he kisses her deeply.
“Be my wife Hana" he says as he budges her nose softly as he kisses down her jaw. Smiling widely, she nods as he lays his forehead against hers.
Pulling out of her, she winces at the pain as he sees his member covered in her maiden blood.
Proud of his accomplishments, he pulls her closer to him as he kisses her on the forehead.
“Rest my flower" he says as he covers her, helping her drift softly to sleep.
taglist: @axoxtxhxh
#zabuza#zabuza smut#zabuza momochi#naruto#naruto oneshot#naruto fic#naruto fanfiction#naruto season 1#naruto smut
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Again - Chapter 3
Pairing: Jaebeom x Reader
Genre: romance, angst, smut, slow-burn
Summary: Im Jaebeom was the single most significant part of your college experience. A chance encounter brings you together again many years later when you’ve both settled into your careers (Jaebeom is a music producer and Y/N is a journalist). As you take a walk down memory lane, you reflect on your understanding of love and its many trials. Some loves are meant to make you grow, and some are meant to help you heal. And some are destined to be both.
Word Count: 3.4k
Rating: 18+ (this chapter only)
A/N: This could be The sex scene of this whole story. I haven’t decided. Hopefully it serves its purpose. Guess we’ll see. And.....oh yeah, this story is not going to have a linear timeline.
Story Index:
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2
It started with a trace of fingers up the legs. Or maybe it was a whisper behind your ears. But here you were, pinned down by his strong frame on top of you, writhing as JB nibbled away at your neck. The air was thick and damp inside the cave. Even with the small fire crackling red hot just six feet away, goosebumps still ran up and down your spine. Your cheeks, however, were flushed. You think his fingers would probably incinerate if he touched your face right now. Time was hazy inside this little seaside cavern and you don’t know how long it’s been since you ducked in to hide from the relentless storm outside. Cuddling for body heat had quickly escalated to lips smashed together and hands wandering to explore each other. As fingers sought to capture and memorize every single curve and turn of your bodies, it felt as though you had been here, in this hideaway, kissing since the dawn of time.
His lips broke away from your neck and started moving lower across your chest, your stomach, leaving behind a trail that electrified your skin. They were heading towards the part of your body that had tensed and contorted itself into a bundle of nerves. The epicenter of desires. You bit your lips and sank your fingers into his hair, not sure whether you wanted him to speed up or slow down. Just as you prepared yourself for the next wave of pleasure though, everything stopped.
Confused, you tried to crane your neck and find his eyes. But you were surprised by gentle taps on your thighs as his hands then led them to open up wide in front of his face. His lips reattached to your body at your knees and the journey now moved north along the longitude of your thighs. It was slow, and agonizing as he administered every lick and tickle, clearly intending to subjugate you to his whims utterly and completely. You arched your back every time his tongue made contact with your skin. It felt as though he had a map of your most sensitive spots and with a clinical focus, he attempted to mark off every one of those spots on your legs. And every time he found one, he got a whimper out of you as a reward. You tried to rub your legs together for some friction but was punished by a bite instead. If it weren’t for the fact that your hands were clamped down by his, you’d probably be digging your nails deep into his arms.
When his mouth finally made contact with your soaked panties, he pulled away again. And the next thing you felt was a draft of cool air up the insides of your thighs towards your core.
“Oh.” was all you could stutter and swallow.
JB wasn’t known for his patience but he did have a thing for control. You were always exactly where he wanted you to be, locked into his grasp but an arm’s length away both physically and emotionally even when he brought you to the highest of highs. The same intensity with which he gave you pleasure, you wanted to find that in his eyes. Though his sight was always trained on you, watching your every reaction, it was as if his gaze was always behind an impenetrable glass shield. All you ever saw were your own desperate desires reflected back at you.
You felt completely exposed to him, not just physically, but as if he could see through your skin and touch every raw nerve. While you could not deny the pleasure he granted, it frightened you to be exposed like this, each thought and emotion under someone else’s scrutiny and him the master of your sanity and satisfaction. You didn’t understand this fear. You never did, but it was as much a part of you as your need for intensity and frenzy. You liked to think that the mix of the two led to defiance, but to someone from a distance it probably looked a little more like recklessness. Regardless, control was not something you would hand over to JB on a silver platter.
So you managed to untangle one of his hands from your legs and led it to your mouth. A lick of the fingertips and your sweet warm mouth gently enclosed his finger. Before he knew it, he’s pumping two fingers in and out of your mouth while your tongue caressed the pads of his enclosed fingers. You clearly took him by surprise as he tried to stifle the low grunt that escaped his throat. For a minute, he was fixated on the sight of his fingers disappearing in and out of your mouth and appeared to be in a trance. You used the moment to push him down on his back so that you end up sitting straddled on top of him. Your fingers brush across his taut abs before making a quick exit of his belt. And as you tug his pants down, you could see that he was hard. Oh, he was very hard.
The tip of his cock twitched as you carefully traced its veins. You moved directly on top of his bulge and started to grind your hips into him. Circular and back and forth, you varied the friction and pressure so that you could bring him back down from the edge every time his jaw gritted a bit too tight. Eyes closed, JB was a sight to behold. Skin covered with a bright sheen and hair tousled from sweat, you’ve never seen him so compliant in this position before. In fact, you couldn’t remember any other time that he’s allowed you to be on top. You knew he was enjoying himself by the way he thrusted up his hips to meet yours and the loud hisses, the almost-grunts, that he let out. But you wanted more. You wanted to crack through that veneer of calm and cool and see what was really underneath it. What was he hiding from you? Was he also in free fall every time your bodies touched? And did he also pray that you would be there to cushion the fall at the end? So many questions yet no answers were ever found in his beautiful fucking face. Well, you just had to force the confession out of him then.
Taking his fingers out of your mouth, you suddenly leaned down and pushed him into a deep kiss. This gave you the opportunity to place his hands above his head and, using the silk scarf that was tying your hair up, restrain his hands to the camping packs nearby.
“What are you doing?” He finally caught on to what was happening and turned his face sideways.
Something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.
But you remained silent and continued to undress him. Once he was completely naked beneath you, you decided to take a moment to simply take in the glorious view. You always felt that women’s bodies were more pleasant to look at, with the natural harmony of its curves and smoothness of its skin. But you now realized that the male form, this particular male form, with its dramatic cliffs and implied strength, held a power that was perhaps even more mesmerizing.
You backed yourself off so that you could wrap your fingers around his cock. Giving it a tight squeeze, you then began pumping it at a languid pace. He seemed to relax thinking that he knew where this was going. Only if. At the same time, you moved your other hand to your own clit and started touching yourself to the same pace that you were stroking him. As the arousal spread from your core, your grip tightened bit by bit until your rhythm became almost totally erratic. Though his face revealed no clues, his hands dug into the blanket by his sides. He threw his head back in pleasure and his breathing got shallower. You were starting to feel light-headed and ready to give in to the delirium that was overtaking your body.
It was a loud groan from JB that brought you back from the edge.
Wait a minute, this wasn’t the plan.
It took all of the willpower you had left to push yourself off of him. As extra precautions, you backed up a good distance away entirely. For a minute, you just sat panting and trying to gather your wits. JB tried to tug his wrists free from their restraints. Good thing you had been a girl scout in your youth and had actually learned how to tie a proper knot. Never know when these things come in handy. Finding his predicament to be more than a little temporary, it finally dawned upon him that you were the one in charge now.
“Let’s pick up where you left off, hmm?”
Stretching yourself out, you opened your legs as wide as possible to give him a good view of you dripping wet core as your fingers encircled your clit at a feverish pace.
“Like what you see? You like to watch me right?” You asked in between heavy breaths.
For a good show, you slowly rolled your body up and down to exaggerate all of your curves. You did always have a flair for the dramatic. Then you dipped two fingers into your core and used your other hand to tease your nipples. The new sensations pushed you to the edge and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy whine. That whine then turned into loud moans. You wanted to make sure he knew just how much pleasure you were giving yourself. Somehow, you managed to lock eyes with him all at the same time and to your great satisfaction, you finally saw his eyes flinch and his jaw lock shut.
“Looks like I can get myself off without you just as well.”
That must have stung because it finally sparked something in his eyes. You weren’t sure if it was anger or lust but it looked like brilliant fireworks either way. It’s no fun if a girl can’t play with a little fire once in a while.
“Stop it! No, come here.”
“What did you say? Sorry, I’m a little busy here.”
He let out a sigh and his chest sank in resignation. You were ready for his retort but he took a long pause instead. Something seemed to shift in the air and a heaviness creeped up on the mood in the cave.
“I know you don’t need me.” He finally spoke in a soft voice. “There was this candle that you really liked. The one that smelled like a fig tree. We got it from that little apothecary with the birdcages down in Japantown, remember? It was the only thing I could find after you packed up and left. You were...so thorough.” He closed his eyes and seemed lost in thought. “I kept going back to that place to buy that same candle over the years. When I couldn’t sleep, I’d light the candle and sit in the dark…...the apartment would smell like you. The place closed down two years ago. I showed up one day and it was just gone. Nobody knew if they’d moved or where the owner went. And I never found that candle again anywhere else.”
Eyebrow quirked up. This was not what you expected. With your legs brought back together, you curled up, put your head on your knees and stared at him.
“There were nights when I woke up in the dark…...and thought you were still there. It’s like I could hear you humming in the bathroom.”
You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he stopped speaking. The silence sat between the two of you like an unwelcome guest.
You had painted this epic battle of will with JB in your head. Him surrendering at the first skirmish was not something you had prepared for. But wasn’t this exactly what you wanted? Didn’t you want him to finally put his feelings on the table and show his cards?
It dawned on you in that moment that you had long lost sight of what you were fighting for. This push-and-pull with JB was all you could remember now. Winning was all you could remember now.
In silence, you moved back to his wrists and quickly undid the constraints. You felt tired all of a sudden, like someone had popped you like a balloon and let all the air out of you. All you could do was lay yourself down on the blanket and curl up into a fetal position. You wanted sleep to wash over you and put you out of this state of confusion you were in.
As you drifted in and out of sleep, you felt JB’s body envelop you as he curled up behind you and pulled you into his chest. You could feel him pull your hair back and kiss your cheek and ear. You relaxed into the warmth of his body and exhaled as he planted tiny kisses on your shoulder and elbow. There was something intimate in the way he deliberately avoided any gesture that was remotely sexual. Something tender in the way he softly hummed some unknown tune while he stroked your hair. And when he finally threaded his fingers with yours, you felt safe again for the first time in a very long time.
“I missed you.”
There it was. Three little words that you never thought you’d hear him say. You wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming.
Instead, you pinched him on the side. Hard.
“Ow! Hey, what was that for!”
You rubbed where you had pinched him. Then you pinched him on the other side. A little less hard this time.
“Say it again.”
“I missed you.”
“Say it again. I want to hear you say it again. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Upon hearing this, he nuzzled himself into your neck and whispered those three words repeatedly until you finally turned around and shut him up with a kiss.
You’d kissed JB countless times before. Knew the outline of his lips by heart and nibbled them in your sleep. But you always had to chase those kisses. This time though, it was as if he was discovering how to kiss you for the very first time and he threw his whole body, his entire being into it. Soon he was on top of you and crushing your lips with full force. You felt as if you were going to suffocate and your lungs would explode. But you didn’t want him to ever stop. As his tongue parted your lips and entwined with yours, you find yourself moaning into the kiss.
“Let me make you feel good, hmm? Remember how good it used to feel?”
You kissed him back as tacit consent. With that, he moved his mouth down to your nipple and as he teased it with his tongue, his hand sought out your clit.
“So wet already…so wet for me.”
That was all the encouragement he needed to insert not one, but two fingers into you. With his thicker knuckles, the stretch was incredible. When his finger found that familiar spot inside of you, you both hissed and tensed up with anticipation. You felt like you were losing your mind and all you wanted was for him to be inside and fill you up. But he was clearly in no hurry. It was like he was determined to go all day and all night. He kept one finger curled at the spot while the other one pushed in and out of you. And when he added his thumb back at your clit doing circles, you finally broke down. A tsunami of pleasure swallowed you and threw you up and down like a broken boat. It felt like forever before the waters finally calmed down.
“Mmm…...you did so good baby. So hot.” He inserted his index finger into this mouth and licked it clean. “So sweet. Are you ready to cum again?”
He said it so casually as if he was asking if you wanted a second serving of ice cream. Meanwhile, you felt like you were still floating in outer space.
“You don’t have to do anything. Just rest.”
As he said this, he got behind you and cuddled up to you once again. You were both drenched in sweat at this point but you didn’t mind one bit. After he made sure that you were comfortable leaning into him, he pulled your hips towards him and proceeded to attack your clit again. This time he took it slow and as he massaged your clit, he pushed himself into you so that you could feel his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered and bit your lips as you felt overwhelmed and overstimulated. Seeing this, he alternately cooed at you and nibbled at your ear.
“Sshh……..just a little bit more. Open up for me babe. Let me take you home.”
And with that, he started to push his cock into you. Even though you were still slippery from your last orgasm, you couldn’t take more than an inch of him at a time. You both grunted as he pushed ever so slowly into you until he was finally fully sheathed within you.
“Stay still. Please. Just for a minute.” You muttered in a high pitched voice.
He felt so incredibly full inside of you that you felt goosebumps up and down your arms even though you were burning up in heat. With his body wrapped around you and your bodies connected fully, you had never felt so close to JB before. Your bodies had finally merged and became one, and as you rested your head back, you could feel his heartbeat syncing up to yours.
So this is what it’s like to feel whole.
“Babe, I have to move.”
And with that, he began to thrust long strokes into you. With every stroke, he winded you up tighter and tighter. Though his breathing fastened, his lips never left your ear or your neck, somehow planting the most tender and delicate kisses over your skin. Your bodies moved to the same rhythm. As he pushed into you, you pushed back so that you could feel him deeper, closer, and fuller. Sensing that you were inching towards the edge again, he moved one hand back on your clit and started attacking it at full force. At the same time, he buried his head in your neck and started pounding into you at a ferocious speed. You wanted to scream from the intensity and the pleasure, but you found yourself unable to get a single sound out of your throat. And it was in this silent cry you both found your climax and came with hands joined together and bodies melting into each other.
“I love you.”
Three little words again. But these three words startled you. If you weren’t tired to the bone, you’d turn around and pull his face up for close inspection. But as it were, all you could do was reach back for him with your arm.
That is, until all you could feel was the blanket where he laid just a moment ago.
Off at the end of your feet, the crackling fire all of a sudden seemed to burn ten times bigger and hotter. Before you could even react, a spark jumped out from the fire and landed at the edge of the blanket you were lying on. The flame flew towards you with full intent. You wanted to get up and run but found yourself completely immobile and anchored to the ground. In that moment, you did the only thing you could do.
You screamed.
.
Then you opened your eyes.
.
.
And it was Wednesday morning.
Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and you were still out of breath.
You’d just had a wet dream about JB after seeing him for the first time in seven years.
Fuck.
And it was only just Wednesday.
.
.
.
Previous
#got7#got7 jaebeom#got7 jaebum#jaebeom#jaebum#got7 jb#kpop smut#kpop fiction#got7 fanfic#got7 fic#got7 imagines#kpop writing#got7 jackson#jackson wang#got7 jinyoung#got7 smut
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Imagine: You feel a bit off today and the argument with your boyfriend Loki doesn’t make things better. What happens when a Steve who doesn’t understand British slang and an overprotective father ruin your sweet plan to get him back?
N/A: Hello dearests, enjoy this new Loki x reader imagine and tell me what are your impressions about it. If you wanna. If you don’t then DEATH. TO ALL OF THEM. Jk. Hope y’all got that reference. 🤟
Warnings: BestFriend!Natasha, Thor is lovely as usual, Dad!TonyStark, Boyfriend!Loki, Language, Fluff, Angst and more fluff, a bit of passion, and British reader/use of British slang (pretty easy and self-explanatory)
Words: 1953
Waking up that morning was tremendously hard. You stumbled against any piece of furniture installed inside of your room by your father, Tony Stark. Well, he was your stepfather, technically, but you weren’t particularly fond of the use of that word.
Yawning your way into the kitchen of the compound, you avoided meeting eyes with Steve. He had been more stressed than usual in the last few days, probably given the upcoming mission. He lashed out at you the day before, or at least that's what you thought was happening.
"I think a cuppa would serve you right."
"A what?"
You looked at him as if he were stupid, but you knew it couldn't be that. "A cuppa? It's.. a cup of tea. You don't know that?" Given his expression, either he was a bit dumb or was just done with you for that day. "No. I like coffee. But thank you."
You weren't mad at him, of course. Nonetheless, ignoring him for a bit did sound like a better idea than trying to cheer him up with your British manners, if you could say. He did not look happy about that.
Staring at the emptiness of your black coffee (and almost gagging at the rough taste), you swallowed the smothering ache in your heart. What was it you were yearning for?
You couldn't place in your mind the exact reason behind this suffering, but you soon grew tired of it. With a pair of eyes following your figure left unnoticed, you dragged yourself up to your room to somehow get ready.
"What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know man. Shouldn't you be locked up in your room like Stark- and he's gone. Thanks for the chat, popsicle."
This was boring, wasn't it? It was raining outside. Perhaps if you were in a rom-com you'd be soaked wet, lightheartedly dancing with a cover of dreamy clouds in the sky, glancing at your boyfriend from time to time, pretending you didn't see his "this is the woman I'll marry" eyes consuming you entirely. However, you weren't the protagonist of a rom-com, much less of a poorly written fan fiction. Additionally, your dear boyfriend wasn't officially... well, your boyfriend, and he'd been ignoring you completely. Which hurt, but your pride defeated your consciousness and you didn't want to talk to him about it.
Then, an idea took place in your mind. You had an opportunity to get back your not-much-of-a-boyfriend, the Captain's shy smile and your fun. Some might say even something more along the way.
"I AM DONE. COMPLETELY, UTTERLY DONE."
You slammed the door of Natasha's office, ignoring the frightening look she gave you and pointed to the chair right in front of you with questioning eyes.
"You slammed my door shut, might as well."
Your eyes dropped unnoticeably. Someone would have noticed though, only he wasn't there.
"I gotta do something. Would you help me with it?."
"What would I help you with, exactly? Y/N, if this is one of your unsettled plans..." She leaned back on the chair, tapping the desk with her bare fingernails.
"No! You can trust me on this, Nat. Please do. I'll buy you some nail polish."
"What?"
"What?"
"WHAT?" Tony on the verge of an anxiety attack wasn't exactly how you thought this plan would go, even though him finding out was not part of it as well.
"Boss, your heart rate is increasing critically."
"Vacation's over. FRIDAY, let's go back to the compound."
You could hear their voices on the other end of the line.
You still didn't utter a word, already having made the mistake of asking your dad when he was bound to return from his "job thing" in Rome. You shouldn’t have said that, because "you never care about it", so it was either a party you were planning or a date. Besides, you might've mentioned the mission that you later remembered, you weren’t supposed to know about.
Your leg was trembling now, having realized the crap mistake you made. "Well shit."
"Y/N!"
"Oh, forgot you were still on. Love you, Dad, bye."
Natasha gawked at you, shaking her head slightly, arms crossed in front of her. This plan was a massive mistake. But it was your plan and you wouldn’t give up on it.
Around noon, Stark made his entry into the structure and went straight to your room, knocking on the door half a time and anchoring his feet to the ground with every step. Hiding your uneven breath, and thanking Nat for her wise advice ("just play sick", she said), you raised the sheets over your painted red nose.
Your dad searched for you in your cosy bedroom, just to find your teary innocent eyes full of greed for success. Maybe you did have a fever.
"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were sick? I thought you were gonna run off to a party or something you kids do."
You shifted under the covers. Shit. That was the plan after all. You were going to coerce Steve into partying with you somewhere you knew Loki would find you, like perhaps that club just around the corner where he wore that leather jacket once. Big story. Regardless, it didn't mean much now that he just vanished from your life.
"I wouldn't have gone anywhere."
An aching cough caught your breath. You tried to keep your eyebrows from furrowing at the actual symptom. You never got sick. Not really, at least.
Tony's eyes were clouded with worry, not liking the sight of you in pain.
"This is what we'll do, kid. You get some rest and I'll have Steve make you some tea."
You sniggered: "Just don't call it a cuppa."
As soon as he left the room, Natasha came out of the bathroom. Your eyes felt heavy, but your mind was still somewhere else.
"You'd make a great actress, has anyone told you that?" she grinned. You liked Nat, especially when you knew she was comfortable enough to enjoy spending time with you. She was your first real friend here at the compound. Your father would keep you hidden here when you were younger, and even though he tried his best to never make you feel like you were alone, he wasn't around much, and always left you with Pepper or Happy, who you now knew as your mother and uncle.
You coughed once again, this time harder, and brought a hand on your chest.
Nat stared at you for a little while.
"You're ill."
"Yeah. And the sun's coming out. This day just couldn't get worse. Did I just manifest getting sick?"
When she stood up from the little chair that was at the side of your bed, she gave you a comforting smile, and then she left, leaving you in Morpheus' arms to fall asleep.
"Do you think perhaps it is best to wake her?"
"Don't be foolish, brother. She is much better like this."
"You mean she's comfortable?"
"I mean she's bearable."
"Ughh."
"Perfect! Lady Y/N, you seem to have awakened."
You looked at the Norse brothers standing at the feet of your bed, still feeling dizzy from your remarkable nap. You hadn't slept this good in a while.
"Thor. Yes. Woken u-uh..p." You stood up. You looked at them. You glanced at them once again.
"OH MY GOD." You quickly covered your face with your hands. Gods, Loki was in your room. He wasn't looking at you, but he was in your room. You could feel his coldness reaching up to your veins - and heart, not only making you feel sick in your stomach but also causing a complementary shameful headache.
"Is uhm... something wrong, Y/N?" Thor's warm voice grounded you slightly but never enough.
With a shallow breath, you released your hands, dropping them along with your head. Looking at the silk white sheets, you wondered if strangling yourself with them would solve anything.
"No, thank you, Thor. Could you just give me a minute to uhm... I need to uh... powder my nose."
He smiled. "Ah yes of course. We'll be in the kitchen."
Your breath hitched. You had to do something.
"Wait!" They altered their steps, this time you looked directly into Loki's ice-blue eyes. "Gotta speak. I mean- I- 'd like to speak to Loki. For a minute. If possible."
Thor adjusted the weight on his feet and then nodded, sizing the room with his comfortable aura.
The instant he left, that same energy vanished, leaving you and that subjugating man to war. A conflict formed of rivalry, an uneasy sense of fear for all that was yet to be said and a deep, desperate need for each other in all ways known to your kind.
You soon grew tired of the dreadful silence. "Are you gonna say anything or shall I speak first?"
"Speak." He kept on staring at the window.
You debated if getting out of the bed would be better for this argument.
"Don't. And there will be no such thing as an argument. I'm not going to force your decision."
You blinked at him. What? Did the ice get to his head?
"Pardon? What decision? And who gave you permission to read my mind, Loki? You left me. Alone. You didn't speak to me for a week. Like... out of nowhere. Just like that- What. Decision." You did get out of bed, now showing your white lace robe to him. If he were looking at you, you'd have felt naked under his gaze.
He kept silent for a while and you did not once stop beholding him.
"I thought you wished not to see me again." He finally witnessed you, completely, entirely, just like you knew he would. Just the way you longed for.
"Why? When did you ever get that impression from me? If I did something wrong please tell me but don't just... don't go away from me."
He attentively took a few steps closer to you. It looked menacing but you knew he was just calculating your next move. He was the prey. But it was you who kept still.
"The bar." The bar?
"What bar?"
"Last week, you brought me to a place. I wore a leather jacket."
Your eyes instantly watered a bit.
"Loki..."
"No. My actions were unnecessary and I shouldn't have- I-."
You broke, fully. You gave in to your heart and hurried to him, still too far across the room. You wrapped your trembling hands around him and almost fell whilst doing so. But he held you mightily, adapting to your action like a lock when it finds its key.
"Lokes... why'd you think that?" You tucked your face in his green and golden armour. "I lo- I know you didn't mean that. You didn't do anything wrong. Please. Is that why you weren't speaking to me anymore?"
Glancing up at him, your gazes met, lost in each other like you could both find your way home. "Yes."
You smiled softly. "Don't do that again. Just talk to me next time."
"There won't be a next time". At that, you frowned. Would he never go out with you again?
"What d'you mean?"
He caressed your cheek, hidden emotions revealed by the trembling of the movement.
"I'll do my best to not do you wrong ever again. It is a promise I'll keep as close to my heart as a dagger."
You giggled dreamily. "Please don't put a knife to your heart."
He moved you closer to his touch. "I won't. But if I do it'll be you who holds the handle."
"You cheeky bastard." And to that, he kissed you ardently, air unneeded for your lungs to work.
N/A: Any idea on what might’ve happened at the club? Also… Loki in a leather jacket.
#loki friggason#loki imagine#loki laufeyson#loki fluff#loki x y/n#loki fandom#marvel imagine#mcu x reader#marvel#marvel movies#thor the dark world#thor odinson#tony stark#natasha romanoff
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Just 'cuz
Pair: Katsuki Bakugou x reader
Genre: Slight angst, fluff
Summary: A group has let themselves into your life and within that group, there lie a guy who seem to treat you better than the rest.
Notes: I'm sorryyyyy!! I'm an angst lover and I like the sudden buildup that lets it seem more heartfelt ksksksk
Your life was worthless. You had nothing exceptional about you. You weren't pretty, smart or fun to be around. You didn't know how to talk to others, always getting scared just to look at others in the eye.
Simply living day by day for no reason, you wanted to completely disappear. You wanted to... But you couldn't. You loved your parents, the only people who you can talk to comfortably without getting judged. They were the only reason you still live on - to repay their sacrifices.
Often though, you would be pulled into a group whose warmth always seemed to radiate to you. There was rarely a time when you felt left out when you are with them, making you look forward to hanging out with them. You felt at home with them for some strange reason.
There was Mina, a very funny and cheerful person, you always looked up to how outstanding she is. He fluffy pink curles bouncing on tune with her glees and movements with her face beaming.
A kind sould called Sero was one who is less hectic than the rest was always there to encourage you to speak up whenever he saw that you have been quiet for a while. He always was there to help you tape anything when needed, a very generous person, so to say.
Next, there was Denki, a slightly perverted guy who still respects women more than a certain someone. He knows when his teasing and perversion was too much and would apologize when you get uncomfortable with his comment.
In addition, Eijirou is always very polite and is quite a gentleman, always talking about how manly he wishes to be. The person who would call out to you whenever he sees you alone with your thoughts, his kindness had always touched you.
Last but not least, the 'leader' of the group, Katsuki. He was often the type to not let anyone come near him very so often. Always complaining and getting angry and annoyed about everything, most people would be frightened by his presence, moving out of his way in fear of being glared at by him. He was like a walking volcano that can erupt at any moment.
One thing to note though, is that he would always tolerate you sitting cloae to him whenever there was little space to sit, especially in the cafeteria. He would often pull you to his side when you did not know where to stand while you can conversations.
Once, you were hanging out with them when you almost got hit by a person who was running only to be pulled close by Katsuki, telling you to be careful or else he kill you. In spite of his harsh words, you knew they were empty promises that was only worried for your safety. His tone towards you were always soft, gentle and filled with empty threats that would never come true.
His vermillion eyes would always lurk towards your direction, often locking into each others orbs before going back to chatting with others, fully knowing that he was still watching you. It might have seemed creepy and uncomfortable if it were other people, however his gaze would somehow give you a tinge of calmness.
This group would always make you feel loved, as though they wanted you to be there with them. Soon, the amount of times you felt un-need vanished. Your days became such adventures, new stories forming each and every single day you lurked around them.
To add to that, you also talked to Katsuki more, feeling blissful whenever he agreed with your opinion. Out of everyone in the group you were closer to Katsuki and Eijirou.
Eiji will always make you hyper through his overwhelming enthusiasm whereas Katsuki ensures your safety and tolerates your stupidity. You wishes for such endearing days to never end.
One day, you were out with Katsuki and Eijirou for a project. The three of you went to a park to conduct your experiment and investigation for your group work.
It was all fun and good, your investigation went smoother than expected, allowing your work to finish soon. Therefore, the three of you decided to go to a nearby mall while Katsuki gets forced to follow.
Going through shops was a lot of fun. The clothes, toys, items and decorations were all beautiful. You have never seen such a sight before you, your vision seemed to see sparkles at every item you see.
For the last stop of the day, you three entered a cafe at the far corner. It was designated at the far corner of the mall, its view was exhilirating. The sun would strike through the window, giving a calming atmosphere to it.
Eijirou went to the counter to order takeaway meals for the three of you, leaving you and Katsuki to sit down near the counter.
You sat down across Katsuki, admiring how his relaxed muscles move as he sat down. The sun hitting his face outlined his defined face, vermillion orbs showing sparkles that seemed like fire within.
Upon meeting his gaze, your face gleamed with approval at his raised eyebrow. The relaxed face and posture of Katsuki was something he only showed you.
His resting face, without and facade, was a sight that you loved witnessing. The already eye candy turns into such a mesmerising statue, beholding you one of the wonders of such a high quality product.
How you wish time would stop. To have a picture of his vulnerable state within your grasp. Was it too much to ask?
Your mere wish of time stopping was a jinx, a hex so to say.
In a blink of an eye, you found yourself being photographed. The flash of the camera and the snicker of the photographer bringing you down to earth.
Turning to see who it was, you were horrified to find your former 'friends' looking at you with disgust, whispering to themselves with coy smiles.
Your memories come gushing out of you. Dark times that you wished to never think of beholding themselves within your very eyes. The monsters that you wished to never come across has caught up, ready to eat you up again. Their snickers and comments bringing tears to your eyes.
"Oh? I didn't know you had guts to even talk"
"I see that you're still as gloomy as before."
"Will you ever change? What a waste of a life."
"Did you find someone who finds you useful again? Good for you~"
No. Stop. Don't say all of those infront of him. Let me off this one time, please. Spare them the troubles, I beg you.
Their words echoed in your mind like a bell constantly ringing. You couldn't move, not even an inch. Every muscle was tense and your heart beated as though you were nearing your last breath.
In spite of your circumstance, Katsuki was only staring at them, like a cheetah about to ambush its prey. Thinking that he would not make any move, you were proven wrong.
"What about you four?" he asked. "Aren't your personalities even worse?"
He was glaring at them with contempt, hatred in his eyes obvious to the naked eye.
"And who is this guy?" One of them ask, not assessing the situation.
He stood up.
They fell.
Silence.
You couldn't even see what happened before realising that they were on the ground, bruises covering them like rashes.
Eijirou who saw the whole thing as he was about to get to you guys quickly pulled the both of you out of the cafe, apologizing for making a comotion.
Processing what had just happened, Eijirou's nagging fell on deaf ears. Your eyes locked at Katsuki's infuriated expression.
As the three of you make your way back home, you wondered what would have happened if not for Katsuki. Would you have been humiliated to no end then and there? Would they have once again attacked you with their chain of words?
Pulling onto the hem of Katsuki's shirt, you asked him the question you've tried to hold back, "Why did you help me?"
His gaze fixed onto yours, pulling you into the depths of his ruby-red eyes.
"Just cuz'"
#bnha x reader#bnha#bnha x you#boku no hero academia#mha#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugo imagine#mha katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou imagine#bakugou x you#bakugou fluff#mha bakugō#mha bakusquad#mha bakugo katsuki#bnha fanfiction#bnha bakusquad#bnha bakugō#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x fem!reader#my hero academia#my hero academia bakugou#my hero academia blog
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Sweeter Than Sugar (Ch 4)
Collab fic with @send-me-your-hcs
Summary: Tony is a man of refinement. Only the best, the highest quality specimens get added to his collection. Peter, a beautiful and very rare male omega, quickly becomes his favorite of all his pets.
The perfect omega deserves an equally-perfect alpha.
(Or: An a/b/o au where pet owner!Tony forcibly mates Peter and Bucky together for his own enjoyment.)
Warnings: Underage, noncon, a/b/o au, dark!Tony, confinement, forced pet play dynamics, forced mating/in heat cycles, forced daddy kink, forced feminization, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
. . . .
Peter is the perfect picture of obedience after that day.
He’s still shy, of course. He’ll probably always be shy. But now, when Tony enters the boy’s kennel, he doesn’t need to use the leash to drag Peter towards him, or snap his fingers to beckon Peter to come kneel at his feet. Peter is wary of him, that much is obvious, but he seems to have finally made the connection that his quality of life drastically improves each time he shows his Daddy the proper respect and affection.
Having a mate to use as leverage just makes everything easier.
Peter seems to already be head-over-heels for his beefy alpha. Tony can’t help but wonder how much of that love is chemically-induced, a biological function honed after millions of years of evolution to ensure successfully-mated pairs stay together and procreate, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy’s affections are genuine. He studies the pair closely when they’re together, and Bucky is…
Bucky is a dream.
The alpha is absolutely smitten. Ridiculously, almost unbelievably soft with Tony’s princess. Every one of their interactions is peppered in little acts of love that make Tony’s heart melt.
Bucky, for instance, never eats first whenever he and Peter are fed together, despite that being an evolutionary instinct bred into most alphas. They are the protectors, the providers, the hunters – they need the most food, need to refuel often to keep their energy up, to keep their packs safe, unless of course their omega is pregnant. Bucky, however, won’t even look at the food that is brought to them until Peter has eaten first, as if he’s concerned Tony isn’t feeding his favorite pet enough throughout the day.
He’ll hand-feed his little omega so tenderly, Peter tucked into his lap, often impaled on his long dick. Peter is so short compared to his tall alpha; even in his lap, the top of his head only barely brushes Bucky’s throat, his soft curls tickling the underside of Bucky’s jaw, tucked beneath his chin like Tony built them in his lab to fit together.
Sometimes he feels like he did. The pair are a match made in heaven; Peter, soft and sweet and shy, but hiding a pair of claws sharp enough to draw blood if backed into a corner. Small and unspeakably cute, with fair, feminine features and a lithe body just begging for corruption.
The polar opposite to Bucky, whose hard-shelled exterior is rough, brutish and foreboding, a human weapon on the outside, but inside, apparently the alpha is hiding a tender heart so full of love he can’t keep it all inside now that Peter has cracked his shell. Huge, hulking muscles cover every inch of his imposing body, a body capable of doing great harm, tempered by the love he clearly feels for his smaller mate.
They are a sight to behold, and oh, Tony beholds them often. He’s generous enough to let them stay together most days, but Peter is still new to his collection, and he has to be careful to make sure the boy doesn’t forget who must always remain first in his heart. To remind him, he keeps the boy upstairs with him in his penthouse for the better part of each day, making Peter earn it if he wants to spend the evenings with his alpha.
He’s not cruel about it. He doesn’t ask for anything terrible, doesn’t make Peter do anything that would infringe upon his mating bond with Bucky. He does, however – as he does with all his pets – insist upon a certain amount of physical affection from Peter that the boy has, until now, almost completely denied him.
He’s much more handsy. In the mornings, he’ll bring Peter his breakfast and pet the boy’s hair as he sits at his little table, eating from his pet bowls. Peter still grips the dishes with both hands, holding them as if he could lift them to his mouth, seemingly unable to accept that they’re magnetically stuck to the tabletop, requiring him to bend over and eat from them like the pretty little pet he is. Peter used to flinch away and refuse to eat with Tony in the room, but now, the boy obediently slurps and consumes his meal while Tony plays with his hair, petting him and stroking down his back with soft, gentle hands.
As a thank-you for each meal, Tony expectantly bends down so Peter can kiss his cheek and mutter a soft, “Thank you, Daddy,” in his sweet little voice. Sometimes he’ll ruffle the boy’s hair in return, other times he’ll kiss the back of the boy’s hand, letting his lips linger on that supple skin. It’s all about exposure. Peter needs to get used to being touched and handled by him, until it’s as natural as being touched and handled by Bucky.
Post-meal cuddles become a daily occurrence. Once Peter has polished off his dishes, Tony takes a seat on his plush pet bed, patting his lap and beckoning the boy over to him. Peter is shy about it, but he doesn’t refuse. He knows better by now. Tony only had to – lightly, mind you – threaten him once after the boy’s punishment.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he had said, voice even, gaze locked on Peter’s worried frown. “Don’t keep Daddy waiting. Don’t you want to see your alpha tonight? Daddy would hate to have to arrange another playdate like the one you had last time.”
That was all it took to make Peter scurry forward on his knees, crawling into Tony’s lap with a level of terrified desperation that made the man smile. Since then, Peter hasn’t needed any reminders – all Tony has to do is pat his thighs, and the boy obediently crawls forward, making himself at home in his Daddy’s lap right where he belongs.
Tony cuddles him long and lovingly after each meal. He’ll trail soft, tender hands over the boy’s thighs, his hips, his sides, his shoulders, arms, neck, hair. He’ll place gentle kisses everywhere his lips can reach, smiling when Peter shivers and shifts in his lap. He wonders what he smells like to a mated omega like Peter. As a beta, does he even have any scent at all? Is it threatening the way another alpha’s would be, or repulsive due to their biological incompatibility? Does Peter have to sit there and endure the scent of someone who isn’t his mate touching him, or does the lack of any scent at all remind him that Tony is not a threat to his bond, but his loving owner who gave it to him in the first place?
He doesn’t know which he prefers.
After a full week of Peter being the most gentle, the most sweet, the most perfectly obedient little pet Tony could ask for, he decides a special treat is due. Peter still needs time to realize that Tony is a loving, generous owner when his pets have pleased him, and oh, Peter has pleased him very much over the last seven days.
After the boy’s lunch, Tony sits on Peter’s princess bed, smiling as the boy straddles his lap without being asked first. Greedy little thing, plopping into Tony’s lap like he belongs there. Tony grins and gives the boy a tender kiss on his forehead, his hands brushing over Peter’s sleek metal collar, feeling that lithe body tense and quiver beneath his fingertips.
“Easy, my love,” he soothes. His thumb brushes over the fingerprint scanner – not the shock-inducer on the right, the other one, on the left – and Peter’s chain pops free from the ring at the back of his collar with a gentle click. “Daddy has a surprise for you.”
Peter eyes him warily. The only place he’s been brought so far outside of his kennel has been Bucky’s cell, and each time, the chain stayed firmly attached. Tony hasn’t removed it once since he first brought Peter home. He can tell the unfamiliarity makes apprehensive anxiety storm inside of his princess’s tiny body, and the thought of that makes his heart clench, makes him lean forward and pepper Peter’s soft eyelids with gentle kisses.
“Don’t be frightened, my sweet, beautiful boy,” he says. “This is a reward for being such a good boy for your Daddy all week. Come along.” He hoists Peter into his arms, bridal style, carrying him through the door JARVIS so graciously opens.
He’s wanted to lounge with Peter in his lavish living room for weeks, now, and the ability to finally do so makes him giddy. He smiles at how Peter’s wide-eyed gaze instantly fixates on the glass wall, peering into his own cell from the other side for the very first time. He takes in every detail, every personalized touch, not bothering to spare the rest of the room around them so much as a glance as Tony settles in on his favorite armchair, Peter nestled firmly in his lap.
Peter gives him a sweet, uncertain glance when Tony pets the boy’s naked flank.
“Do you like it?” he asks softly. His other hand comes up and plays with the bow and bell decorating the front of Peter’s slim collar. “Daddy made it just for you, princess.”
Peter glances at his cell again. Tony can tell something about his choice in décor offends him – most likely the pastel pinks and whites, the princess theme, the overly-feminine style. He suspects Peter’s been talked down to and feminized his entire life for being unlucky enough to be born such a rare, endangered gender. He wonders if anyone has ever celebrated his masculinity in a positive, nonsexual way in the boy’s entire, very short life. He doubts it.
But Peter is his good, wonderful, perfectly obedient boy, so he nods his pretty little head and softly says, “Yes Daddy, thank you,” in a tone sweet enough for Tony to overlook the obvious lie.
“I’m glad,” he says, smiling and pecking Peter on the cheek. “Get comfy, baby, you’re going to help Daddy do some shopping today.”
Peter gives him a confused look as he’s turned, sitting with his back to Tony’s chest, relaxing as best he can in the bigger man’s lap. Tony settles in against the back of his chair and parts Peter’s legs over his thighs, loving how they’re so short, Peter’s feet don’t have a hope in hell of touching the floor. He kisses the crown of Peter’s head and picks up his tablet, holding it in front of both of them so Peter can see it as he turns on the screen.
It opens to the page Tony saved earlier; a catalogue of custom alpha cock covers. Peter sucks in a shocked breath and wiggles, excited or uncomfortable, it’s too hard to tell without seeing the boy’s face. Tony hugs him a little tighter and starts scrolling through the wide selection of items on offer as he explains, “This is your surprise, baby. For being such a good boy for me, Daddy’s going to buy you and Bucky a fun toy to play with. I know sometimes you want to be knotted without making such a mess, and that’s where these come in handy.”
He can practically feel Peter’s temperature spiking a hundred degrees as he taps on one of the covers, opening a new page that displays the item up-close, along with all its details and features.
“These are custom-made covers that some bonded pairs use to prevent pregnancy. They slip right over the head – see? Some go all the way down, some are made tight enough to keep an alpha from knotting. These ones stretch at the bottom, see that? They go right over the alpha’s knot so he can still fit it inside. Some even have a strap that goes behind the balls, but, well. Poor Bucky’s balls are just too big to fit something like that, I’m afraid.” He kisses Peter’s head again, swiping left to return to the catalogue. “You’re going to pick whichever one you want.”
Peter squirms in his lap. He doesn’t take or touch the pad, seemingly frozen. “They…” he says at last, timid, frightened. “They all…um. They all look too small, Daddy. I don’t want…if it’ll hurt Bucky, I…I don’t…”
The poor thing is scared senseless. Tony chuckles softly and hugs him, cooing instantly. “Oh, baby, my darling boy, no, you needn’t worry about that. They make each one custom based on the alpha’s size. When we order one, Daddy will send in Bucky’s exact measurements to make sure they make it comfortable and pain-free. This is a reward, okay? For being so good for me. It’s not going to hurt either of you.”
His heart melts when Peter sags with relief, perhaps the most relaxed he’s ever been in Tony’s arms. “Thank you, Daddy,” he says, genuinely grateful. “I, um. I get to pick?”
Tony grins and nuzzles the back of his princess’s neck. God, he loves him. He loves him so much. “You get to pick, sweetheart.” He hands the boy the tablet, using his now-free hands to hug and hold him tight. “Whichever one you want. Go on.”
Peter mumbles another quiet thank you as he scrolls through the selection. The tips of his ears are red where they stick through his dark, chocolatey curls. Tony shamelessly buries his face in his hair and scents those soft, bouncy curls, loving the flowery scent of Peter’s specialized shampoo. He’s glad that Peter doesn’t seem to be trying to figure out how to minimize the shopping catalogue so he can make a call or send a message – not that Tony left those features enabled, mind you. Peter has no chance of asking anyone for help, but he’s proud the boy doesn’t even think to try.
They sit together for the better part of an hour while Peter browses through the different covers on offer. He seems to take his job very seriously. Tony loves that he seems to deliberate only on covers that have dual-pleasure-enhancing features; covers with ridges both inside and out, covers that vibrate, that have increased suction for the alpha’s pleasure and increased size, length and girth for the omega’s. Peter instantly dismisses every cover that is designed to only pleasure the omega partner, and the sweetness of that absolutely warms Tony’s heart.
In the end, Peter chooses a modest but very well-designed cover with all the bells and whistles. It’s a shorter model, only 14” compared to the standard 16”, with a stretch base designed to comfortably squeeze the alpha’s knot, bumps on the outside to increase the omega’s pleasure, suction inside to increase the alpha’s, and an extra inch of girth to ensure maximum fulfillment. Peter blushes as he adds the item to their cart, selecting the desired cover in a pale blue shade that Tony notices matches Bucky’s eyes.
God, his pets are so painfully cute.
“Got the one you wanted, baby?” he asks gently. Peter nods and hands the tablet back, so that Tony can enter Bucky’s exact measurements – memorized long ago, thank you very much – and finalize the order. He makes sure to pay for same-day shipping, grinning at the thought of the look on Bucky’s face when Peter shyly hands it to him that night.
“Good job, little one, you picked a very nice cover for your alpha,” he praises, smiling as Peter blushes adorably. “I’m sure Bucky will absolutely love it.”
Peter squirms, embarrassed. “I hope so…”
“I know he will.” Tony gently turns the boy in his lap, encouraging Peter to face him, loving the sight of that red, humiliated face. “Now. What do you say to Daddy for buying you such a nice gift, princess?”
Peter shyly glances up at him, but doesn’t hesitate. He places both hands on his shoulders, whispers, “Thank you for my nice gift, Daddy,” and leans up to kiss him gently on the cheek.
Tony smiles, cups the back of the boy’s head and pulls him in close. “Anything for you, kitten,” he says, holding Peter’s head absolutely still as he presses their lips together, swallowing the surprised whimper Peter makes, drinking the sound down greedily as Peter lets him cross whatever line his Daddy wants.
A very good boy, indeed.
—
The way Peter moves is nothing short of artful. Even with the shy, unsure way he takes his steps, the look of wariness in his eyes, he always moves like every motion is a piece of a greater work. As though everything good and humble and kind is contained within his body and needs to be released into the air for the rest of the world to be a part of.
When Tony hands the boy the cock cover to give to his alpha, he wasn’t expecting to be so captivated by mere movement. His baby holds it carefully, like it’s fragile, and not a piece of platinum silicone meant to withstand a knot twice Bucky’s size comfortably. Tracing every ridge like he’ll need to remember it later, Peter is fixated on the toy. It’s the only object he’s ever seen the omega react to like this, like he doesn’t believe it’s real.
He takes Peter down to the basement, carrying his princess like the precious cargo he is, nose turned into those soft, perky curls as he takes them to Peter’s mate for their reward. His darling boy was an absolute sweetheart today. Letting Tony kiss him and pet his skin, especially over his plump little cheeks. He didn’t slip Peter any tongue, or fuck his fingers into Peter. Though… the thought does occur to him that, after this mammoth of a cock cover slips into Peter, there may be room enough for a fist inside that sweet pussy of his.
Peter’s hand is small enough that his tiny fist can wear the piece as a glove, it is utterly massive for such a small thing. It has to be rigid in order for the nubs to work as intended, but Peter keeps pushing along the center of the hollowed out toy to test its give. It folds with some resistance, but not a terrible amount, just enough so as not to collapse in on itself. It pops right back into shape when Peter releases his thumbs. The omega blushes when he realizes Daddy is watching, ceasing to toy with the sleeve in his lap.
Laid next to Peter’s cock, it really is a sight. Even hard, the sleeve wouldn’t even be able to balance on his baby cock. It’s the utter opposite and reminds him just how thoroughly his baby is about to be torn open by the girth of this thing.
Down in the basement, Bucky is already waiting for them, likely smelling Peter, if not Tony as well. The alpha is prowling along the glass, keeping in pace with them, his eyes on Peter. The beta can’t help but stop, kneeling down just enough for the pair to press against the glass.
Peter makes a noise that can only be described as pure joy, it sounds like a purr mixed with that same chirping sound from their first morning together. The omega’s hands are pressed to the glass, cheek joining in as if trying to rub against Bucky through the clear pane. Bucky does something similar with his jaw pressed to the same spot as his whole body joins in, hundreds of pounds of muscle leaning on the glass.
It is darling, absolutely adorable, but nothing prepares Tony for the near heart-exploding scene that comes next. Peter, his sweet, beautiful boy, his princess, looks up at him with those large honey irises and chirps. Not quite like a bird, but similar to a cat who’s been watching birds for too long.
His heart turns to mush and, shifting Peter from bridal style to holding him under his armpits (Peter thankfully grabbing for the sleeve before it hits the ground), Tony peppers that sweet face in kisses. Such a good boy he is, asking Daddy for what he wants without even using words, looking to Daddy to fulfil his needs. It’s progress he never thought they’d reach this soon. He knows better than to assume it’ll be permanent at this stage, but it’s a win in every possible way.
Peter is sweet enough to blush, turning his eyes away as Tony coos over him, utterly smitten.
“Such a darling boy, so sweet for Daddy. Are you ready, baby? Want Daddy to have you stuffed with your mate’s delectable cock?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Even now, so shy as to speak softly. So close to having outright begged to be with Bucky, yet he stays quiet and gentle with his voice, like Daddy has asked something of him that he doesn’t quite know how to do.
Wasting no more time, he quickly enters the room. Not wanting to interfere more than necessary, he sets Peter gently on his hands and knees. Peter, unsure where to put the sleeve, tucks it under his chin as he toddles over to his alpha. Chainless, Peter is free to move around in a way Bucky can’t. They won’t be left alone unless Peter gets hooked to the wall as well, but with his watchful eyes he assumes it’ll be fine. He is desperately curious to see what Bucky will do without the limitations of the heavy iron ropes which often kept the two tethered in an unnatural way.
Bucky strides forward, meeting him halfway. His beautiful, charming beast of an alpha tucks that little nugget under him, a massive hand reaching to corral his mate under him, in no mind to worry about the foreign object Peter has brought with him. His Bucky, always so concerned with Peter these days, wanting his mate hidden beneath his torso even as they stand. Peter rotates enough to face forward, getting comfortable under the roof his mate has so graciously provided for his comfort.
Tony is disappointed when Peter doesn’t present his gift right away. Instead he beams as a large, soft tongue runs through his curls. Still, Tony can’t stay disappointed for long. He wanted a mated pair and he got possibly the most attached set of pets he could have asked for. It really can’t just be hormones at this point. Otherwise, Bucky would already be so deep inside his omega his balls would be inching their way in.
The affection is endearing, a sign that they’ll last and fuel his enjoyment for years to come. Bucky’s obsessive grooming screams “provider,” clearly someone determined to build a relationship before sex. He can’t blame his pets, not after seeing how badly his supposed brute just needed a mate to let his guard down with, and how his princess craves the safety and emotional bonding.
After a few minutes of grooming and loving touches, Peter finally presents his gift, holding it out like an offering in his small nervous fingers. Bucky stops in his tracks.
“This for me, sweetheart?”
“U-us. Daddy let me pick it. I wanted something that would make us both feel good.”
Bucky immediately descends on his baby’s neck. Nibbling and biting as a husky, “thank you, sugar,” slips into the air. Peter is squealing and giggling, clutching the cover tightly as his shoulders and throat are lovingly assaulted.
“Can I put it on you?” Peter bats his eyelashes, clearly without thought. Those doe eyes asking so politely to let him mount his new gift on that delicious cock before riding Bucky into the sunset.
“Of course, anything you want, Peter.” It’s said with so much conviction, Tony suspects that Peter could have asked to rip Bucky’s cock clean off and the alpha would have let him. Though of course, Tony would put that to a stop immediately. Maiming is a sure-fire way to get the pair separated indefinitely.
Peter shifts to face Bucky’s groin, his little rear sticking out for Tony to see in spite of the hidden installment of the cover. He’s about to get on the speaker to tell them to adjust so Daddy can see when Bucky leans down, lapping at the omega’s hole.
It’s messy, the angle more of a swiping across than over, but the alpha has one of those ripe cheeks in his hand, pulling it aside for better access and giving Daddy a perfect view of the show. It slows Peter down, the boy clearly trying to press back against the sensation as he works, torn between the attention and his own duty.
Eventually, he manages. Bucky growls and gently nips the skin near the boy’s rim. A squeak sounds from between the man’s legs and Peter scrambles backwards, tongue sticking out in a playful way at Bucky’s crass gesture. The cock cover is perfectly visible now. The prettiest of blues and, despite the massive size, still somehow looking proportional even if a bit on the heavier side. His balls finally look nearly normal when put up against that extra four inches in length and meaty inch of additional girth. The ridges on the sleeve stand out proudly, looking delectable, and leaves Tony knowing that Peter is going to be utterly and completely wrecked to near pieces after this monster ends up inside him.
Bucky, seemingly now ready to get on with the show, stalks over to Peter. The omega knows the drill, it’s already been a week of them fucking like rabbits, as Bucky has apparently been attempting to pup his pussy for the better part of it. Peter scrambles for the bed, not wanting to be fucked into the floor today (and Tony can’t blame his princess for that). Bucky is not far behind, keeping his drawn, predator pace as the cock cover forces his shaft to point downward from the weight.
With the little time he has, Peter makes himself pretty for his mate. He pushes the blankets around to give a bit more of a nest structure before laying his lithe body out on the bed. He faces Bucky, propped up on his elbows and making enticing noises trying to draw Bucky in, like the alpha isn’t clearly thinking of every way to take Peter apart already.
The second Bucky is on the bed, everything turns downright feral.
Bucky is immediately on top of Peter, humping the boy with desperate thrusts, trying to find entrance. Little moans escape as Peter hides his face in his hands, a slight tremble running through him as the alpha tries to gain entrance. Slick had started to pool after Bucky’s lapping, but even Tony doubts it will be enough out of heat. Still, his baby doesn’t complain, laying there and ready to take it like a champ.
When Bucky finds his mark, it’s all over. Peter screams. It has Tony up and out of his chair, worried his sweet, tiny, breakable Peter has just been torn up by too much too fast. He’s moving towards the door before he hears what Peter is crying out.
“Oh, Bucky, Bucky! M’ so full – Yes, yesyesyes!” His hips shake as Peter is pounded. He shouts and cries like he is being murdered, but the pleasure is so clearly written on his face Tony forces his ass back into his seat. The pair is facing him, so he can’t see the true action, but that’s what cameras are for. He pulls up a rear angle on his tablet, setting it off to the side for when he wants to see that delicate pussy stretched out so tight his rim is nearly glued to the silicone. Admittedly, watching each ridge and bump pull and push his princess’ hole to its limit is a sight, one he’ll be jacking off to for weeks to come. But really, Peter makes facial expressions that can’t be rivaled.
Under Bucky, Peter looks like a dwarf, his frame consumed by the alpha’s to a point that he looks like he would simply be too small to exist. That acting as a backdrop for the blissed out, moaning face makes the experience orgasm-worthy all on its own. Drool rolls down from the corner of his mouth as Bucky’s hips slam inside him with enough force to bruise. Just a little hazy and cross-eyed, as if he’s so drunk on cock he’s not quite there, face flushed the most delicate dusty rose color. It’s perfect. Utterly blissed out and enjoying what his body was made for, milking a cock big enough to kill him.
Tony is so laser-focused on Peter he almost doesn’t notice what Bucky is doing. The alpha is clearly close, the stretchy cover that rests over the base of his cock already filling out with the beginnings of a knot. He seems lost in what he’s doing, ravaging Peter like he owns him and Peter can take whatever he’s given, so long as it’s Bucky handing it out. When the alpha reaches down to squeeze at his knot, Tony assumes it’s an attempt to increase the pressure and moves his gaze back to Peter’s face. Which is why he knows the exact moment Bucky rips the cover off.
Peter makes a completely different sound. This one gutted and primal, the sound of someone who is receiving bare, unadulterated cock. The cover is tossed on the bed as Bucky slams into Peter so hard, his nearly-full knot pops in with one go.
The omega shouts Bucky’s name, repeating it like a prayer as his pussy is creamed and fed. Bucky still taps his hips forward as their on-looker sits in shock.
He knows Bucky is an animal, but that…was truly something else.
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{WARNING: THIS FIC IS NSFW 18+ PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT IT CONTAINS GRAPHIC ACTS OF SEXY TIMES}
@lilac-city-skylines @thanatasia @gelfyerself @jenskira @himbo-supreme-gurjin @thethirdstageofdeath @hollerbatgirl
Brea had never felt nervous around another gelfling before.
Having lived under the watchful and judgemental eyes of the Vapra Court, Brea had all but grown used to being in the spotlight. During important parties, and at tithings, she was there, front and center, watched by countless pairs of eyes as she and her sisters stood by their mother’s side. She was used to the judging glares, the endless whispers that tumbled from the popups lips of those around her.
She had hardened her skin from their gaze, and that for as long as she lived, she would have to get used to.
Even though she was the all-maudra’s third child, however, she was never as viciously sought after to be courted as Seladon, who took it upon herself to enrapture and toy with any suitor who woddled their way to her side, or to an extent, Tavra, who simply said no to the influx of questions on wether or not she would go with them. Brea had neither been asked questions or went out of their way to No one wanted Brea’s hand. she wasn't the grand prize, the pathway that lead straight for the throne of the All-Maudra. In her mind, she was the slim-pickings, the leftover bit of food no ever wanted to touch the next day. No one wanted her, and in turn Brea didn't want them.
Solitude had always been a good friend to the young princess, having already become accustomed to the endless silence of the library in Ha’rar. and now with the gelfling deep enthralled with the prospect of war, the chances of being courted were slim.
She was a council member now, tasked with bringing about the needed arms and supplies that were needed on the front lines.
What frightened Brea more, however, was how her heart pounded like a trapped hollerbat as she and Kylan made their way through the snow riddled forest.
Clutching her hand tightly, he lead her through the fantastical forest, bobbing under snow-covered branches and past trees with curling, naked limbs. Even though her thick nebrie gloves, the chill of winter bit at her hands. White mist plummed from her lips as Kylan pulled her along.
“Kylan,” Brea called as they passed a mass of grey-and-white stones. “Where are we going? People will be wondering about us!” There was no place in the forest that Brea was familiar with. She had lived all her life in the mountains of Ha’rar; The forest was as confusing and unfamiliar to Brea as the sea was to so many gelfling. She was not meant to be here, but Kylan thought otherwise.
“Let them wonder,” Kylan replied. His cheeks were flush from the cold. Snow peppered his ebony hair. He simply wore a thin white shrit and pants. His boots were soaked with snow. “I’ll be good for their egos.”
“But Kylan,” She cried. “I have to get back to the war-room soon! We have to plan for the next randevu point near Sog. Gurjin and Naia have vital information; Without it, we not have a chance with the next Skeksis raid--”
The two stopped just near a glade. “They can wait,” Kylan said sternly. Brea blinked at him. His face was flush, his cheeks bright against the falling snow. His eyes darted to and fro along the forest, almost as if he wanted to be far from this place. Finally, the two came to a stop. Kylan whirled around to face her. A bright smile was plastered to his face. “We’re here.”
Brea looked around. The area was unfamiliar to the princess. It was quite a secluded area, with large, dence trees. Rocks lay scattered in the snow. From what Brea could tell, a well-worn footpath was permanently indented in the earth, indicating a trail to somewhere. It was familiar, though. Like she had come here before.
“Kylan,” She said, in that familiar tone that indicated cautious intrigue. “Where are we?”
Kylan grinned, his cheeks bright red. Brea couldn't help but laugh.
Moving slowly, he pulled back the thick shrubbery.
Brea gasped.
Ahead of her sat the Ha’rarian Hotsprings.
Draped in mist and stream, the hot springs were a sight to behold. Polished rocks ringed the crystal clear pools. Cadneles were placed in obscure cracks and creavases in the rocks, illuminating the dark area. Gushing near a larger pool, A large waterfall roared, stream rising up from the foam and bubbles produced by it.
Brea gave a gasp. “Kylan! This is wonderful! I havent been here since I was little!”
Kylan laughed. “When I asked Tavra what to get you, She suggested this place in Ha’rar. I was actually surprised it existed.”
“My mother used to take us here--back when she had free time-- and we’d swim and play. Tavra and I would hide from Seladon behind the waterfall. There’s a cave behind there.”
“I know,” Kylan mumbled quietly, scratching the back of his head.
“What was that?” Brea asked.
“Nothing!” He quipped.
Brea shrugged, rushing further into the hotsprings. “Oh, wow, look how clear it is!”
“If you want to get in, you can.” Kylan suggested.
Brea gasped. She rushed to Kylan, hugging him. Kylan sucked in a shallow breath, surprised. “Thank you Kylan!”
Before Kylan could get a word in, Brea had rushed off to undress.
“Wait!” Kylan yelped, touching her hands as she started to undo one of the many strings fro her dress.
“What?”
“You get naked here?”
“But of course! This is the hotspring. It’s tradition for gelfling to undress to swin in the spring.”
“Oh… sorry, I didn't know.”
Brea’s ears drooped. “If you want, I can turn around and--”
“Yeah,that might be best.” Kylan agreed.
Slowly, Brea turned her back to her. Carefully pealed off her shoulders. It slid slowly, at first. Off her shoulders, down her arms, revealing pale,cream-colored skin as her body became visible. Finally, it crumpled to the floor, a pile of smooth silk at her feet. Even though she was turned away from him, he had caught a flash of flesh as she moved her hands to unweave the many braids in her hair.
His heart lurched painfully.
Oh Thra, Kylan thought. He felt his breath grow short, his heart hammering against his chest. She’s wonderful.
She looked ethereal in the dim light of the fire-posts. She was a goddess made real. Kylan’s mind wondered back to the story Maudra Mera had told him of when he was just a small childling. The story had been about a paladin, trapped in the deep labyrinth-type caves. He had been near death when a young gelfling had found him, bringing him back from the brink. The paladin had described the sight of the gelfling as being like a oasis in the crystal desert--Heavenly, too good to be true.
Is this what the paladin felt? Kylan wondered. When he saw the gelfling that saved him?
Clearing his throat, he adverted his eyes away as she slipped slowly into the water.
“Come on in,” she called over her shoulder. “The water’s amazing!”
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Kylan began to undress. At first, he slowly untied his shirt, tossing it over a rock. Than he worked the buttons on his pants. His hands were shaking as he unbuttoned them. Finally, they slipped off, fully exposing him. Carefully, he slipped into the warm water and seated himself on a rock. He pressed a hand to his pelvis, not allowing Brea to see what was behind his hand. He watched as Brea swam, diving gracefully into the water before emerging, smoothing back her dark, wet hair. Kylan did the same, through he didn't bother to untie his braids.
Noticing smiled at Kylan, swimming closer.
“This is amazing, Kylan” She said. “Thank you.”
Kylan swatted her with a dismissive hand. He kept his eyes away from her body. “Well, I figured that since it was your birthday, you deserved to have a good night for once during this whole rebellion.”
“I very much like my gift, oh sweet song-teller.”
Moving closer, placing a hand on his knee, she kissed him. It was like lightning had sparked in their lips. A deep lust had found its way into his veins. Sighing, he deepened the kiss, drawing her breath from her lungs
“Brea,” he said between kisses. He wrapped his arms around her, loving the feeling of her skin against his
“Hm?”
His heart was racing, but there was no going back. “I have another surprise for you.”
“Oh, you do? Do tell.”
“I would rather show you.” He whispered. He kissed her neck, lips peppering her skin. Brea sighed, loving the feeling of them on her. Moving his hands, he pressed her closer, drawing her against his hips--and his manhood. She could feel him against the inside of her thigh.
Sighing she leaned against him. “Than show me, love.”
Eager to show her, Kylan broke away from their kiss, and swiftly, he scooped Brea into his arms. Careful not to slip on the rocks, he climbed out of the hotspring, water trailing off their bodies as Kylan carried his princess behind the large waterfall. The cave was warm and clammy, but the two didn't care. They kissed viciously, moans escaping from their throats. On the floor, a large thick blanket was waiting for them, as well as a large pillow. Next to both, a well-sized bottle sat waiting. Candles burned in cracks in the gave, giving off a soft yellow glow.
As softly as he could, Kylan deposited Brea against the soft, silk blanket.
Brea laughed. “Did you entended for this to happen?” She whispered between his kisses.
Smiling, Kylan continued to kiss her, letting his lips answer the question. His kisses were passionate and warm. He kissed her lips, her neck. The valley between her breasts. Unable to help himself, he began to suckle her. Pressing and prodding her breast, he worked with a passion, tugging at the mamilia, turning the rose-colored nip scarlet-red.
He wanted her to feel that rush of heat again. To teeter at that cliffside.
Brea stifled a gasp that crept into her throat.
He continued to kiss. Down her breasts, her stomach. His journey was long, agonizing. Finally, he came to the entrance of her valley.
As as Song-teller, Kylan was good with words. They flowed naturally, like a river through the forest, dipping and twisting to express the story within his mind. Now, in the very moment, no words could describe what he saw as he gazed at her. His mind was blank, a nothingness that cloaked him.
Kylan found that no words described it best of all.
Taking her hips in his hands, he kissed her valley.
He felt Brea jerk, gasp. A hand clasped his head, its fingers twisting into his hair. He kissed, slowly, feeling his way through her. He heard her breath hitch, shorten. He desperately wanted to ravish her, to make her unravel at the mere touch of his lips. He wanted to taste her, savor her scent and taste.
But he held back. Not because he wasn't ready, but because he wanted to save the best things for last. Their wedding night. On that night, he promised, he will feast on her. And ravish her. And where he would show her the full extent of his love.
But now, he just needed to survive this night.
He kissed her valley one more time, before picking himself up from the floor to settle between her legs.
He braced himself above her, head level to hers. He took her entire image in. Her eyes were bright, filled with a inner fire. Her hair fanned out above her, cloaking the pillow.
“Thra has truly blessed me with you, Brea of Ha’rar. You are the reason why my heart has never yearned for anyone else. You are an oasis, a salvation in my darkest hours. In all of my years of living on this world, I feel more complete and whole then I’ve ever had before.”
Brea savored his words. She blinked away tears. “Kylan,” She whispered. She moved her hands. Carefully, she undid the many braids atop his head. Slowly, a curtain of night black hair fell from his plaiths, framing his face hamsomly.
“I’m ready,” She announced to him.
“As am I,” He answered.
Kylan gazed at her. Taking a deep breath, he sat up. Carefully, he took the bottle of oil. With a sick pop, Kylan removed the cork and tipped the bottle to his hand. Pale yellow oil flowed from the bottles lips, and carefully as he could, he prepped his manhood.He coated himself fully, the oil warm against his skin. Maudra Mera had warned the boys of Sami thicket that Intercourse was rough and painful. She had explained that oil helped with the movement and that it was both pleasurable for both the men and the woman as well.
With soft hands, Kylan took her thighs, pulled them forward toward him. Brea couldn't help but wrap her legs around his waist, trapping him against her.
He settled into a comfortable position. Brea could feel his manhood at the entrance of her valley, waiting to be let in.
“Remember Brea,” Kylan whispered. “There will be no heading back from this. What we will do will brand you forever. It’ll brand me forever, as well.”
Brea took a moment to compose herself. She pulled her arms up, cupped his face and kissed him, drawing the breath from his lungs.
“I am yours, and You are mine. This night will be ours and ours alone. You are a commoner, Kylan of Sami Thicket. You hold no land, no prospects. You hold no future gane to the throne of Ha’rar. You are nothing to Seladon, to Tavra, to anyone else from my clan. But yet you are everything to me. You are the gelfling that I have chosen to give my maidenhood too. You are the one who completes my soul. Yes, Kylan of Ha’rar, make love to me. Leave me shattered until the dawn breaks.”
Kylan smiled. “As you wish, Princess.”
Kylan entered her, pushing past her maidenhood. He couldn't help but gasp at the forein sensation that enveloped his phallus. It felt strange, he found. It was nothing like what he had felt hours before, when the two were close and Brea had allowed him to explore with his own hands.
Now, it felt as if the fire within her body had smothered him completely, masking his senses, blinding him to a lust that, for so long, seemed to lay dormant deep within.
Under him, Brea gasped at well, throwing a hand to her lips. Her whole body trembled. She took a few short breaths, closing her eyes as her body fought against the searing fire that erupted down in the valley of her legs. The pain was a shard as a dagger to the back, quick and volatile.
It took quite a while for the pain to die down in her hips and legs. Like a wildfire, it spread, enveloping her nerves.
Slowly, tenderly, Kylan began to move withinside her. He started slowly, back and then forward again, and she gasped. He withdrew again, and pushed forward, a little harder. Heavy, harsh gasps erupted from Brea’s throat. He continued, pushing forward, retreating back. He held himself above her on his arms, muscles taut and burning.
Underneath him, Brea couldn't comprehend the sensation. Her body moved with his, back and forth, back and forth. It was a dance between two yearning hearts. A vicious moan tumbled from her lips as Kylan picked up pace, driving into her. It felt as if Kylan was ripping her apart, dissecting her, exploring every inch of her soul. He unraveled her, like a lose seam within a shirt, before sticking her back together.
He pushed forward, stretching her further than before. She gave a cry, a whimper. Above her, Kylan moaned, buckling against the strange feeling that seeped into his being.
He did as he was told. He worshiped her, praised her, showered her with love. He moved with the eagerness of a dying man, driving into her, pushing, pulling, back and forth. Harder and harder he pushed, pressing into her core.
“Brea,” he moaned, pressing deeper into her.
“Yes!” She screamed. “Faster! Yes! Yes! Faster! Faster, please!”
Her voice sounded strange, forein. This didn't sound like Brea, the well-educated Princess. This sounded desperate, ravenous. Hungry.
Around them, the bed became a disheveled mess. The silken sheets, once neatly folded, were now thrown and scattered about, leaving the mattress bare. Only one pillow remained , its body tucked under Brea’s head. Kylan pushed into her violently. She gave a cry, arched her back, gripped the mattress. Her toes curled into themselves.
She was nearly there, she knew. He knew as well. His pushes and pumps became hungry, desperate to help her arrive at that strange place she had been teetering on hours before. His hands found her waist, gripping her steady, keeping her body pinned against his as he drove into her.
Every nerve in her body was alight with lust and fire. The coldness of the night never touched her.
That fire, that lust that burned deep withinside her became a forest-fire, blazing and uncontrollable. She gasped, whimpered, screamed his name as he tore and devowerd her. He answered her cries with rapid movements, tearing into her like a starving man eating for the first time. Underneath them, the bed creaked violently, the wooden legs scraping against the old floor.
Moving her hands, she threw them across his shoulders, fingernails raking across his skin.
“Kylan,” She gasped. “Harder! Yes, Harder! Oh yes! Yes! There! Right there! Oh, Thra, Kylan!”
And finally, like before, she shattered. The fire that had blazed in her core exploded. It burst, expanded, flying to every nerve in her body. A scream, loud and high and ear-piercing, burst forth from her mouth, tossing her name into the air. His hands became vices, his nails digging into her skin. He continued his relentless movements, driving and pushing, pumping with a viciousness that Brea had never seen, or felt, before.
Brea felt the moment he shattered.
Like Brea, A great gasp escaped his lips. His pushing seized as he sat there, eyes closed, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his body fought the spasms that rocked his lower pelvis.
Brea gazed at him, watched as he fought against his body. She watched as sweat dripped from his neck and chest, how it shimmered in the distant firelight of the room. They had become one, she realized. They had joined. They had taken that risk, defied generations of traditions. No Spriton had ever made love to a Vapra before, much less a royal. Kylan was already defied tradition once, just by existing. Now, he had lived to defy it again.
“Kylan,” she whispered, her voice full of wonder and awe as she gazed at him.
The Spriton-Stonewood caught the sound of his name. He found her eyes and smiled. His body was still reacting, the spasms racing through his pelvis. His breath was shaky. “Brea,” he whispered back.
Brea moved. He held out her hand to him, stroked his cheek with her knuckle. The Spriton-Stonewood caught it and kissed her palm. “Did I satisfy you, your highness?” He asked.
Brea shook her head. “No,” she said, “Its still not dawn.”
Kylan cocked an eyebrow. He turned, looked out onto the rippling water. A mirror image of the three-sisters were visible. No, dawn was not here yet. It wouldn't be here for hours.
And Brea had ordered for him to make her shatter till dawn.
Well, like any loyal servant, Kylan lived to serve. Lived to please.
Kylan turned back to her. Smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her soft lips. “Yes,” he said. “My mistake, princess. Let me remedy that.”
It was obvious that Kylan was in pain as he left her valley. His movements were slow and gentle, like someone walking on thin ice. He gave a grown, fell back against his knees. She sat up as well, taking a moment to calm down. Around them, the room had grown warm, partially thanks to their own bodies’ heat and the large fire that burned in the fireplace a few rooms away.
As gently as he could, Kylan turned Brea onto her stomach.The gelfling gave a gasp as she found herself face first into the sheet, her arms splayed out beside her. It felt strange to be lifted this way.
“Kylan--” She started. but the sound of his voice in her mind stopped her.
“Shhh,” Kylan cooed. With gentle hands, he help guide her backside upward, until it was level with his pelvis. He leaned forward, kissing the back of her neck “Let me worship you in a new kind of way.”
With a powerful thrust, He re-entered her again. Like before, fire erupted through her body. She gave a gasp, her backside buckling as the sensation rolled through. Her hands found purchase on the sheet below her, knotting up the fabric.
Above her, Kylan moaned. Already he was drunk on her, desperate to fill her and fall away again.
Like before, be began push back and forth, re-entering and leaving. But unlike before, he didn't slow, nor was he gentle, pushing and thrusting with every muscle within his body. Moans escaped his lips, filling the air with lust and passion as he rammed into her from behind. Brea joined him, her own moans harmonizing with his own.
His pace quickened, and Brea could not bare it.. Her eyes were hazy with lust, her breathing rapid and quick. It felt as if with every thrust, Kylan was knocking the wind out of her.
“Kylan, oh, uh! Yes! There! Faster! Oh, Thra--Yes! Yes!”
Kylan pushed deeper, his thrusts becoming more rapid and harsh. By now, his entire weight was against her, pushing her down further onto the sheet. Brea braced herself with her forearms, allowing her lower-backside to be reachable. Kylan took advantage of this, pushing himself up, driving himself deeper into her until he was at her core. Brea could not surpass a scream as he drove into her, sending wave after wave of pleasure and heat through her body.
Kylan could sense she was close. He could feel her heart pound against her chest, and her breathing became so hitched and forced that she fought for every breath. But she wasn't there yet.
He decided to make it more enjoyable for both of them.
Moving a hand from her waist, he cupped one of her breasts. Using his palm, he molded and fondled and pressed and squeezed. His fingers found her mamillia. He pulled and twisted. The rosebud was hard nad firm, and Kylan couldn't help but feel a wave of satisfaction at knowing that her entire being--Her breasts, her core, her valley, her gasps, moans, whispers, screams, kisses and suckles--where his and his alone. He continued his thrust and pushes, pumping in and out of her.
It felt wonderful. Oh, so wonderful. It was as if he was creating her, remaking her.
Brea couldn't help but scream when a particular hard thrust pushed her into the bed. She burred her face into the fabric, the silken sheets masking her voice. Kylan helped her brace her arms again, lifting her gently back into form.
“Don’t,” he growled, lowering himself across her back, near her ears. “Don't hide yourself from me, love. I want to see all of you.”
“Yes,” Brea answers. She buckled her hip, pressing herself to him. “And I wish to see all of you as well.”
A chuckle rose from his throat. Kylan knew what she wanted.
“Soon,” Kylan promised. “Very soon. But right now; this is your night. Let me worship you like the princess you are.”
Brea was surprised at the amount of strength Kylan had left. Fast as lightning, the Spriton-Stonewood re-positioned himself, settling against his calves. Taking both of his hands and placing them over her breasts, he lifted her into his lap, facing forward. She sat against him, her back to his chest. Brea gasped, feeling as her valley was stretched wider by his manhood’s newest position. Kylan wasted no time in starting again. He pushed and pumped, filling her. Using his hands, he cupped both breasts, squeezing and fondling them with great care. With spry fingers, he twisted her mamillia’s, the buds becoming hard and stiff in seconds.
Brea jerked, knocking her hips into his.
He gasped, moaned as he felt her shift to take all of him within her.
From his place behind her, Kylan could just make out her lips forming soundless words.
“What do you want, Brea?” He asked. He jerked his hips, pumped viciously into her.
“I-I want,” Brea gasped. Kylan pushed, stretching her valley wide. “I-I want…!”
“Yes,” Kylan purred. “Tell me, princess.”
“I want every inch of you! I want all of you, Kylan. Please, I want you!”
Brea felt him thrust viciously. She gasped, moaned. Kylan couldn't help but laugh. He kissed her neck, running his lips along her skin. He felt her shutter and shake. “Not yet, sweet princess,” He said. He gave a thrust, pressing deeper into her. “We’re just getting started.”
Suddenly, he pulled out of her, lifting her from his lap.
Her vally was slick and dripping, and her thighs were drenched in oil and other slick liquids. “Kylan!” Brea gasped. “What are you--?”
Turning her by her shoulders, he motioned for her to face him, letting her straddle him, ankles crossed. Her face was flush and her eyes were bright with lust. Quickly, he entered her again. She gave a sharp gasp as he filled her, stretching her tight.
“You’re so beautiful,” He hissed, pressing his hands to her thighs. He squeezed tight, his nails digging into her skin. He rolled his hips. He watched as she bit her lips and took a deep breath.
“Kylan,” Brea whispered. She pressed her hands to his shoulders, drawing him closer. “Yes, please, yes...”
“What was that, Princess? I cant hear you.”
With passion, he began to pump in and out of her. Pressing herself closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck, running her hand through his hair.
“Please!” Brea screamed, feeling him press into her core. She could feel him swell and fill her, and like a drunk man, she wanted more. “Please Kylan. I need you! I need you! Agh! Please!”
With a grunt, he thrusted harder than before. He filled every inch of her, every crevice of her valley, stretching her. He bounced her up and down, hands firmly gripping her as she moved. He felt her valley stretch with each trust, the oil helping with the movement.
Kylan’s name left her mouth, filling the air as she teetered on the edge of bliss. To answer her call, he screamed her name as well, his own cry filling the room.
Brea could not suppress it any longer.
With a scream, her core shattered, ripping through her again. Spasms racked her body, turning every nerve numb. Sweat dripped down her back and neck, coating her entire body.
But Kylan didn't stop. He wasn't close yet; there was still more in him. He continued to thrust, driving deep. Brea felt another spark inside her flare up.
“Not yet,” Kylan said to her as another moan escaped her lips. “There is still more I wish to show you, my princess.”
And he did. He continued his desperate dance with her, pushing and thrusting into her until the two were soaked to the bone in sweat and their skin was raw and their vocal cords were stretched thin.
Brea felt her core shatter over and over as Kylan tore into her. By now, her entire body was numb to the fire. She gave a shallow gasp as he thrusted, one last time into her. She felt him grow stiff within her, telling her that he was on the threshold of becoming undone.
She heard him gasp, suck in a deep breath. His body jerked and Brea felt that familiar rush of heat enter her. Kylan shattered just as hard, if not harder, then before. Spasms clawed up his spine like an angry monster, scathing his muscles, his pelvis, his legs. He felt the tightness from before, the desperation to release within her. He forced himself to relax and ride along with his spasms. He wondered if Brea could feel them as well.
She could. He twitched and jerked within side her. Though she was numb and exhausted, she wanted more.
Suddenly, taking his shoulders, Brea pushed him down, his head resting against the pillow, gazing up at Brea’s exposed form, his black hair draped across the floor.
Ever since they had first arrived at this cave, Kylan had been the only one to please. He pleased with his hands, his body, his manhood. He whispered to her, spoke to her with the confidence of a prince. She had ordered him to shatter her until the breath of dawn touched the world, and he did.
Brea wanted to join him.
Kylan watched, amazed, as Brea moved gracefully above him, removing herself from his phallus to re-apply oil to his both his manhood her valley. Moving slowly, she straddled him, pressing her legs on either side of his pelvis. Taking him fully in her hand, she guided him to the entrance to her valley.
Kylan wanted to say something, but Brea shushed him, pressing her lips to his own. “Shhh, my love,” She said, “Save your words for later.”
With one powerful buck, She enveloped his phallus fully. She stretched and filled him, pressing her hips to his. A gasp escaped her throat. She pressed a hand to her lips to stop a moan from forming on her lips. Caught off guard, Kylan hissed painfully. His hands caught her hips, pinning her closer to him.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
Kylan nodded, head dizzy and blank.
Brea laughed. She could see tears had built up in his eyes. Using her thumb, she wiped a stray tear from his cheek.
“I love you,” She said.
She began to move. In and out. In and out. She bounced, bucked. She rocked her hips into his. She pressed her hands into his chest, pinning him down against the floor. Gasps escaped her lips as she concentrated on bringing him pleasure.
“Harder,” he commanded. “Harder!”
Though she was a princess, Brea did as she was commanded of. She rocked harder, pushing deeper into him. She threw her head back, exposing her neck as she dug deeper into him.
Kylan could feel how deep he was in her. That familiar warmth coated every inch of him, eating him alive. He laid there, watching as she rode him, bore down on him. His hands were griped tight as she bounced lustfully, her breasts jerking with every movement.
He had never seen such a beautiful sight in his life. Heat burned deep within him and as she rode him harder, he found his voice again.
Oh, yes! Yes! Yes!! Faster! Oh, Brea, yes, keep going. Keep going! You’re almost there, love! Yes! Almost there, ugh, yes! Right there, right, Ugh, yes! There! There! More! More! Keep going!”
Brea moaned and continued to Up and down. Up and down. “Kylan, I-I think I’m going too—!”
“Yes, My Princess, Yes! That’s right! Almost there!
“Kylan—!”
“Almost there. It’s nearly dawn.”
She bounced. He thrusted. The two worked their dance feverishly.
“Kylan—!”
With one final thrust, Brea and Kylan shattered, unraveled. Kylan gasped, moaned, as heat left his body and filled Brea’s. Brea arched painfully, her head thrown back as the first bird-song of dawn pierced the air outside the waterfall.
___________________________________________________________
Hair disheveled, bodies sore and stiff, they slept. With only a single pillow, The two gelfling laid there, naked. They had exhausted themselves too much to bother with finding a bed sheet to cover themselves.
The girl slept soundly, her body pressed to the boys, a hand across his chest. Her breasts were red-raw, the buds scarlet in the weak light. Scratch-marks and love-bites marked her skin.
The boy laid on his back, staring lazily up at the ceiling. A hand was cursed protectively around her shoulders.
The girl shifted against the sheet, ignoring the violent pop in her shoulder. She lifted herself up, looking around the save. By now, light had illuminated the water rushing down the rocks.
She looked to Kylan. He was peaceful, serene. Brea knew that soon, once he woke up, that they’d have to leave and go back. Back to the battlefield and war-room. Back to just friends in the eyes of everyone else.
Brea knew right then and there that she wanted to give him one last taste of passion before it would disappear for the time being.
“Kylan?” Brea cooed softly. She touched his chest, running her fingers along his lean stomach. “Are you awake?” She shifted to press herself closer.
“I am now.” He answered.
She was silent for a moment. “Are you tired?”
“A little...why?”
Brea bit her lip. “We’re going to have to leave soon.” She noted
Kylan nodded his head. “So it seems.”
“So… I was wondering…”
“Wondering what, love?”
Slowly, deliberately, she snaked her hand down towards his pelvis. Brea felt him jerk and gasp he felt her hand touch his manhood.
“Kylan,” Brea pleated, light and airy. She looked him in the eyes. “Please, before we have to leave, let me worship you now.”
It took Kylan a moment to register her words. Slowly, he nodded.
Now, it was her turn to make him weak, to leave him gasping and begging for more.
She looked at his eyes, his lips. Oh how they were perfect. She planted a kiss to them, loving the way they molded to hers. She continued her journey, gazing at his chest, the muscles along his stomach. She kissed those as well. She felt him shiver, give a low gasp as she kissed lower and lower. Finally, her eyes reached the valley near his legs. She caught sight of dark, curling hair, the chiseled cut of his tighs and calves. Then, She caught sight of his manhood.
Her breath caught in her throat. Thanks to the vast amount of medical schools and books within the Ha’rarian library, Brea had already gained the needed knowledge and understanding of what a male gelfling’s manhood had already looked like. But gazing at the real thing was completely different.
Slowly, she moved her hand. Kylan watched as she lifted his phallus into her palm. Kylan took a deep breath, composed himself. It felt forein to be touched this way. It felt like lightning had struck him, igniting his senses.
“Brea,” he moaned, watching as her hand began to move and pump him, up and down Every nerve felt as if it were on fire within him. He watched as she took him in: His size, his shape, his length. Kylan had always been jealous of other male gelfling--jealous of the gloating about how their own members had been bigger than his, how they made gelfling women who took them to bed sore the next day just by entering them.
Kylan had always been jealous. But tonight, within the darkness of the waterfall cave, all the jealousy that had built up all those years had finally washed away. To Brea, he was more beautiful than the moon, and it made him content to know that she loved him regardless.
“Oh, Thra,” She whispered, “You’re wonderful. Perfect. You look as if you were sculpted just for me. My love, you are every bit as perfect as you are in my dreams.”
Kylan felt everything in him go numb as he felt her begin to pump him, her nimble fingers caressing him. She seemed to grip him hard, and then pull back, making him feel exposed. A moan rose into his throat, threatening to spill out. He pressed his head to the pillow, locked eyes with the ceiling. Like Brea, he gripped the sheet in his hand, knotting them tight. She continued her pressing and pumping, working her hand thoroughly.
Her fingers sweeped around and around, pressing against the very end of him. He could feel himself beginning to shatter, and he wanted to be in her. He wanted to give himself to her.
“Brea,” he moaned. “Brea, please, I need you.”
“I know,” she whispered, planting a kiss to his lips. She pumped and pressed. A cry tumbled from his tongue. “Let me ravish you, my love.”
“Yes, ravish me,” He demanded.
She continued her game with him, pumping him viciously. Moving slowly, she pressed her lips to his manhood, toying with him, playing with his manhood until he could bear it no longer. Gasps tumbled from his mouth, filling the silence of the night.
He shattered again.
The heat within his core exploded. He released, letting the pleasure that had built up inside of himself free. Inside her, she had felt the power of a spasm, how it destroyed him, made him tremble with exhaustion.
Brea smiled, watching as a spammed rocked his body.
Kylan fought hard to keep his breathing calm. Sweat crowned his forehead and everything felt numb.
Grinning, Brea watched as Kylan sat up, and cupping her head in his hands, kissed her fully. Brea laughed as he began to pepper kisses on her face, her neck. Soon, he pushed her back down again, eager to please and pleasure her all over again.
#The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance#The Dark Crystal#Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance#Kylan#Brea#Royalmelody#kylan x brea
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Hey! Wat are your opinion on Dany fertility? When rhaego was born some says it is same as rhaenyra but it involves blood magic. Do you think next she becomes pregnant there are chances of Shadow baby? Also do you think jon possibly sterile after Resurrection?
I don’t think Jon will be sterile after the resurrection. We don’t know how he will be resurrected, etc etc. I am no kind of expert on the subject, though. It’s merely my certainty that Jon is destined to be a father.
I also don’t think Dany is sterile so much as she has trouble carrying a pregnancy to term so shortly after a traumatic birth at a young age. It’s heavily implied (though perhaps it’s a misdirection) that she had a miscarriage in connection to her affliction with dysentery while wandering the grasslands in her final ADWD chapter.
Am I dying? Then she saw the pale crescent moon, floating high above the grass, and it came to her that this was no more than her moon blood.
If she had not been so sick and scared, that might have come as a relief. Instead she began to shiver violently. She rubbed her fingers through the dirt, and grabbed a handful of grass to wipe between her legs. The dragon does not weep. She was bleeding, but it was only woman’s blood. The moon is still a crescent, though. How can that be? She tried to remember the last time she had bled. The last full moon? The one before? The one before that? No, it cannot have been so long as that. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she told the grass, aloud.
Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark.
“Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …” Dany could not recall the child’s name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. “I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons.”
Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.
Her belly was empty, her feet sore and blistered, and it seemed to her that the cramping had grown worse. Her guts were full of writhing snakes biting at her bowels. She scooped up a handful of mud and water in trembling hands. By midday the water would be tepid, but in the chill of dawn it was almost cool and helped her keep her eyes open. As she splashed her face, she saw fresh blood on her thighs. The ragged hem of her undertunic was stained with it. The sight of so much red frightened her. Moon blood, it’s only my moon blood, but she did not remember ever having such a heavy flow. Could it be the water? If it was the water, she was doomed. She had to drink or die of thirst. (ADWD, Daenerys X)
It’s clear Dany is struggling herself with the idea that this might be a miscarriage.
There is no way to be certain whether or not Dany even has fertility issues at all, considering that - IF she is miscarrying - a bout of the bloody flux would easily explain it. For all we know Dany has no fertility issues at all. If she has them, there are plentiful “normal” explanations for them. Dany is so focused on the curse, on being barren, that I am pretty sure she isn’t. Or that’s just what GRRM wants me to think. Right?
Reading all this and considering her history of pregnancy --> failed poison attempt --> birth/miscarriage during dramatic conflict --> Waking the Dragon, it is easy to suspect her eventual descent into full-on murderous and violent destruction (and her death) will be tied to pregnancy as well.
I just always wondered how that was supposed to work.
“When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before." (AGOT, Daenerys IX)
That’s pretty specific. Her womb quickens again. Bear a living child. But if Dany bears a living child, that’d probably be the one thing to STOP her from going all inferno on everyone. And a miscariage would contradict this condition. Dying IN childbirth with a living child would just be lame. I mean, the drama comes from Dany choosing to be a monster, not from Dany dying in childbirth and her dragons going nuts.
So if the cycle is to be repeated, either a living child is killed or there is a twist that makes it all work.
The shadow baby might be a huge twist.
“Yes. Beneath. But we can go no farther. The portcullis goes all the way to the bottom. And the bars are too closely spaced for even a child to squeeze through.”
There was no answer but a soft rustling. And then a light bloomed amidst the darkness.
Davos raised a hand to shield his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. Melisandre had thrown back her cowl and shrugged out of the smothering robe. Beneath, she was naked, and huge with child. Swollen breasts hung heavy against her chest, and her belly bulged as if near to bursting. “Gods preserve us,” he whispered, and heard her answering laugh, deep and throaty. Her eyes were hot coals, and the sweat that dappled her skin seemed to glow with a light of its own. Melisandre shone.
Panting, she squatted and spread her legs. Blood ran down her thighs, black as ink. Her cry might have been agony or ecstasy or both. And Davos saw the crown of the child’s head push its way out of her. Two arms wriggled free, grasping, black fingers coiling around Melisandre’s straining thighs, pushing, until the whole of the shadow slid out into the world and rose taller than Davos, tall as the tunnel, towering above the boat. He had only an instant to look at it before it was gone, twisting between the bars of the portcullis and racing across the surface of the water, but that instant was long enough.
He knew that shadow. As he knew the man who’d cast it. (ACOK, Davos II)
Next chapter: Jon.
This doesn’t sound very like a living child. It sounds like a monster. Like Dany’s dragon children. Like Drogon, who keeps being described as a shadow.
(It also sounds like a metaphor for Jon’s birth. The mother, whose body is not ready (possibly to narrow in the hips) for childbirth, the massive shadow (i.e. power) cast by the child that comes forth. Jon’s shadow. The shadow that is destined to stabbity stab someone.)
But back to Shadow Baby Targ.
Considering all the lovely speculation surrounding Dany and Euron lately, (read everything by @shieldofrohan !), as well as Euron’s massive magical aspect, as well as this plans for Dany, methinks he would be central to that:
"And who are you, child?"
"Falia Flowers, Lord Hewett's natural daughter. I am to be King Euron's salt wife. You and I will be kin, then."
Aeron Damphair raised his eyes to hers. His scabbed lips were crusted with wet porridge. "Woman." His chains clinked when he moved. "Run. He will hurt you. He will kill you."
She laughed. "Silly, he won't. I'm his love, his lady. He gives me gifts, so many gifts. Silks and furs and jewels. Rags and rocks, he calls them."
The Crow's Eye puts no value in such things. That was one of the things that drew men to his service. Most captains kept the lion's share of their plunder but Euron took almost nothing for himself.
"He gives me any gown I want," the girl was prattling happily. "My sisters used to make me wait on them at table, but Euron made them serve the whole hall naked! Why should he do that, except for love of me?" She put a hand on her belly and smoothed down the fabric of her gown. "I'm going to give him sons. So many sons..."
"He has sons."
"Baseborn boys and mongrels, Euron says. My sons will come before them, he has sworn, sworn by your own Drowned God!"
Aeron would've wept for her. Tears of blood, he thought. "You must bear a message to my brother. Not Euron, but Victarion, Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet. Do you know the man I mean?"
Falia sat back from him. "Yes," she said. "But I couldn't bring him any messages. He's gone."
"Gone?" That was the cruelest blow of all. "Gone where?"
"East," she said, "with all his ships. He's to bring the Dragon queen to Westeros. I'm to be Euron's salt wife, but he must have a rock wife too, a queen to rule all Westeros at his side. They say she's the most beautiful woman in the world, and she has dragons. The two of us will be as close as sisters!"
(…)
"Brother," he said, "you look forlorn. I have a gift for you."
He beckoned, and two of his bastard sons dragged the woman forward and bound her to the prow on the other side of the figurehead. Naked as the mouthless maiden, her smooth belly just beginning to swell with the child she was carrying, her cheeks red with tears, she did not struggle as the boys tightened her bonds. Her hair hung down in front of her face, but Aeron knew her all the same.
(TWOW, The Forsaken)
But Euron doesn’t care about heirs, methinks.
Falia is his “Lady”, i.e. a sacrifice on the command of an Evil monarch like Lady the direwolf? And she and Dany will be close as sister? Like, share a fate kind of close?
Balon was mad, Aeron is madder, and Euron is maddest of them all. Victarion was turning to go when the Crow’s Eye said, “A king must have a wife, to give him heirs. Brother, I have need of you. Will you go to Slaver’s Bay and bring my love to me?”
I had a love once too. Victarion’s hands coiled into fists, and a drop of blood fell to patter on the floor. I should beat you raw and red and feed you to the crabs, the same as I did her. “You have sons,” he told his brother.
“Baseborn mongrels, born of whores and weepers.”
“They are of your body.”
“So are the contents of my chamber pot. None is fit to sit the Seastone Chair, much less the Iron Throne. No, to make an heir that’s worthy of him, I need a different woman. When the kraken weds the dragon, brother, let all the world beware.”
“What dragon?” said Victarion, frowning.
“The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world. Her hair is silvergold, and her eyes are amethysts … but you need not take my word for it, brother. Go to Slaver’s Bay, behold her beauty, and bring her back to me.”
“Why should I?” Victarion demanded.
“For love. For duty. Because your king commands it.” Euron chuckled. “And for the Seastone Chair. It is yours, once I claim the Iron Throne. You shall follow me as I followed Balon … and your own trueborn sons shall one day follow you.”
My own sons. But to have a trueborn son a man must first have a wife. Victarion had no luck with wives. Euron’s gifts are poisoned, he reminded himself, but still …
“The choice is yours, brother. Live a thrall or die a king. Do you dare to fly? Unless you take the leap, you’ll never know.” (AFFC, The Reaver)
Euron manipulates Victarion beautifully. Victarion is the one who cares about wives and heirs. Euron considers his progeny to be excrement. He wants Dany, but hardly in order to make trueborn drakens to inherit an uncomfortable chair.
I think IF Shadow Baby Targ is going to be a thing with Dany and the twist around the “Living Baby” clause, I think Euron will be involved in that, and the whole nightmare potential of that is scaring me already. It may not even matter if she is truly infertile or not if that level of dark magic is involved. Or Euron just wants to sacrifice a baby, Craster-style.
If Jon is involved, I really don’t think it would be a willing participation. Yikes.
Brr.
Seriously, that stuff gives me the absolute creeps.
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☂ = giving her his greatcoat to keep her warm.
[ ♦ ]
The mesmerizing sounds of the dutiful, devoted and regal Trifarian paraphernalia below them had her smiling in some sort of pride that wouldn’t belong to her if it wasn’t for her role on organizing the Event. Even if the curl on her lips portrayed mischievous intrigue behind the occasional sip of wine, as she relished on the sight at the Grand General’s side.
An outdoor Military Gala, mixing soldiers in their best uniforms and nobles in their most formal attires. Everyone was dancing, drinking & overall enjoying themselves on one of the far too many unused Rose Manors. This one –of course– was chosen by the Matron. There wasn’t any particular importance regarding the property but the immense beauty of the garden, and it was more an aesthetical thing of material possession than actually have any strategically significance. Just as any of her Tea Cups, after all, it was what could be pouring on one at the end.
Besides the flock of precious ebony birds had the chance to fly freely –and frighten people as some would pretty much look at them from everyplace– around more than in an enclosed space as a ball room would do. Beatrice on her side was happily cawing & soaring the skies more than thrice, before returning to perch on the upper area where the Vision & the Guile were beholding that everything was properly going in the Evening.
Even General Darius seemed to enjoy himself, having the excuse to say he had indeed been participating in one of the state’s events, at the same time he could keep most of his warrior regalia. Dodging entirely that tuxedo this time, and probably most of the soldiers were also thinking the same. However, why was Sion on another side of the place wearing a large version of a fine smoking was out of everyone’s question.
The Grand General of course, wasn’t an exception to the etiquette rules settled by her for this little ‘alliance’ event to happen, wearing one formal, dark & elegant choice she had been wondering if done by one of Piltover’s most renamed tailors due how well made it looked. It was pleasant to the eyes, even enough to go well with his dark and wonderful greatcoat. And where was the lie? She loved having an equal who could dress as well in Haute Couture as herself, who was in an equally sophisticated & elegant silken design. Her dress was intricate, alluring but enchanting… qualities she deeply loved to portray.
Regardless on the envy it could awake on some ladies & the charm it could give to the overall public, there was a thing the attire embracing her wasn’t at all: Warm.
And on plain start of the winter season at southern zones of the Empires, it seemed to not be such a tactical decision on her side at all. Sometimes, her smugness & vanity would play against her. As some say in Bilgewater: “Para ser bella hay que ver estrellas” (To be beautiful you have to see stars), and to be fair she didn’t mind suffering a little to maintain the appearances on point as protocol would be.
However, the air was more and more freezing as hours passed & the wind blowing close their little balcony was becoming more complicated to deal with. Perhaps due how her hands would occasionally stroke her own naked arms when she assumed nobody was looking to gain some warmth became the clues that lead to the following action of her companion.
When the great coat was placed upon her shoulders, Emilia couldn’t avoid a sight of relish and comfort, wholly permitting the hands of the Grand General to place it around her. The heavy and thick fabric became a pleasing shield against the icy breeze, almost like a blanket as well due their heights; even with her heels it was reaching the marble floor.
Careful porcelain digits prudently moved towards the long lapels, enclosing the greatcoat a little more around her petite silhouette. Her gaze became a blend of coyness, mischievousness and gratitude as she looked up at him.
“You are such a charming gentleman, Mon Corbeau. Thank you dearly~”
Besides, the textile had kept his cologne & she won’t avoid the fact it was an enjoyable silent detail to feel so closely. It was truly delightful, as if surrounded entirely by his presence. Warm, delectable scent, soft cloth... She perfectly knew this was probably a single act of mere politeness, but a part of her would take it as one caring gesture, at least a treasurable single one.
So, so gratifyingly warm and soothing, as the little tint of red was starting to crown her pale features, giving stage to a sincere smile on her nightshade lips. Genuinely for him, not a mocking one at all “I had always loved this coat yours, if you allow my sincerity to speak. It’s entirely a marvel~”
If something was certain was how he wasn’t going to get his greatcoat back on that night.
[ ♦ ]
@visionofnoxus ~ ♥
#visionofnoxus#ll Warm Coat now belongs to the Rose~ ll#also sorry for the long post too#I get carry away when it's you adasdasd#tw: long post#drabbles
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hiii, could you possibly do some "first times" HCs with Ikesen Masamune? (obviously both him and MC have prior experience, but just their first time together!) I loved the one you did for Yuki! Thank you! 💕💖💞💘💗💝💓
Hi lovely Anon! Thank you so much for this ask! Masamune is so much fun to write for and I always have a blast doing it. Happy reading!
Warning: NSFW/18+: explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised
First Times With Masamune (Ikesen Headcanon)
Your relationship in general:
CHEMISTRY 101
You and Masamune together is like fanning a flame, adding fuel to fire: both of you burn brighter in each other’s company
Masamune is already rowdy to begin with — he gets downright unmanageable in your presence (Hideyoshi doesn’t know what to do with him and is ALMOST on the verge of giving up)
The other warlords all remark that the more time you spend with Masamune, the more of his qualities you take on (especially Ieyasu, Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide)
What they don’t realize is that you’ve always had a wild streak, it was just tempered by what society expected of you (e.g. growing up feeling like you had to be an obedient child, respecting authority figures, conforming to society’s image of what constitutes a good student/employee/etc.)
They never could do away with your smart mouth though, as Nobunaga can attest to
Masamune, who gives zero f-cks about what anyone else thinks about him (aside from you) and does what he pleases, is only drawing out from you what was already there to begin with
You were initially scared out of your wits in his presence, but then soon realize that it all just feels so…natural
Of course, you still have a very different stance compared to Masamune when it comes to physical violence and war
But rarely have you ever felt such simpatico with another human being, whether back in your own time, or here, 500 years in the past
All the other warlords, while supportive, are secretly envious of Masamune’s relationship with you (except Mitsunari, who doesn’t really know what’s going on): it’s almost criminal for a couple to have that much fun and look at each other with such smouldering passion in their eyes
Of course, all of this translates into HOT SEXY TIMES…
First kiss:
Were you always this turned on from a kiss alone?
Masamune is a skilled kisser - knows how to make you melt with just the soft press of his lips against yours and his tongue will bring you to your knees…literally
The moment you feel him slide that tongue into your mouth, you are gone, putty in his hands
Cocky bastard knows he’s good at this. He’s had enough experience with women swooning in his arms from his kiss alone
What he didn’t expect was how affected he would be by yours
Once your lips meet, he’s suddenly ravenous, hungrily exploring every inch of your mouth and sucking your tongue into his. He’s gently sinking his teeth into your lower lip and tugging playfully
The rest of his body responds in kind: he’s grinding into you, hands freely roaming over your clothes (is that his erection you’re feeling against your thigh through his hakama?!)
Masamune can’t quite put into words why he’s responding so fervently to you, he just knows he never wants to stop
Perhaps it’s the grip of your fingers on his hair, tugging gently as if to tame a wild animal. Or perhaps some hidden note in the warm fragrance of your skin that he detects at the base of your neck. Or the way your moans are reminiscent of a kitten’s purrs before he greedily swallows them into his mouth. There’s just something about you that brings out the beast in him
”I love you.”
The first time Masamune tells you he loves you, it will be completely spontaneous
You find yourselves in another near-death situation (no surprise there), the two of you looking wild with ripped clothes, disheveled hair and dirt on your faces
And when you each finally catch your breath to take in the sight of the other through wide eyes, you crumple against one another in belly shaking laughter, both trying not to embarrass yourselves further by becoming incontinent as well
When the laughter finally dies down, he’ll suddenly reach out to gently brush the mud away from your face, softly saying, “I love you, kitten”
You are dumbstruck, frozen in place. Never once did you think he would be the first to say it. You love him to death, but were afraid to tell him because he just didn’t seem to be the type to ever settle down with a single partner
Masamune surprises even himself when the words leave his lips as naturally as breathing: he’s never made this kind of declaration before nor even had the inclination to do so. But then again, he’s also never met someone quite like you before.
The man has had his share of women, but they’ve been a rotating door of one-night stands with the sole purpose of sating a physical need
The thought that you could be the one to “tame” him actually frightens Masamune a bit: suddenly his reckless behaviour on the battlefield can have consequences. What if he never returns to see you again?
But it’s already too late. If the words didn’t seal his fate, the passionate kiss you give him in return does.
The first night:
OH. MY. GODS.
While neither of you are virgins, your first night together makes you wonder what the hell it was that the two of you were doing with other partners in the past, because it certainly never felt like this
You didn’t know sex could feel this good: the two of you are so physically compatible, the chemistry is insane
We are talking hot, sweaty, wild sex
All inhibitions fly out the door and nothing is taboo. There is no room for self-consciousness when you are making hot, passionate love with Masamune
Your nails leave crimson trails down the length of his back, while his fingers dig a bit too deeply into your hips as he’s thrusting passionately into you from behind. You won’t notice the bruising on your skin until dressing in the light of the afternoon sun the following day, having needed to sleep in after an entire night of going at it
As things usually are with Masamune, your first time together will be unplanned: the mood is right, the stars align, and you fall into each other’s arms as naturally as the seasons cycle
Once again, it all begins with laughter. And then, in the midst of shoulder-shaking heaves, you catch a glimpse of something in that cerulean eye, an instance where he’s completely serious, earnest…and irrevocably in love with you
He says your name. Not “kitten” or “lass,” but your name. Whispered like the word itself is sacred and powerful, and perhaps it is, because in that moment, held in the sway of whatever magic was conjured up by that spell, you fall on him, lips hungrily seeking Masamune’s, hands working feverishly to tear open the collar of that blue kimono, needing to feel the heat of his skin beneath your greedy fingers
Masamune is taken aback for all of 2 seconds. You’ve never been this forward before, and he is used to playing the role of aggressor, especially when it comes to amorous activities. But he finds that he quite likes the change and is open to becoming your prey for the evening
Sex with Masamune feels like some animalistic courtship ritual, cycling between periods of playfulness and passionate solemnity, with your naked bodies naturally finding themselves in a myriad of different positions where both of you will have the chance to experience what it’s like to dominate and be dominated
Some of the many positions/activities encountered on this first night together include: face-sitting, 69, doggy, cowgirl, missionary, lotus, reverse cowgirl… god, there are so many - some positions aren’t even named yet (now you know why it took all night)!
This man will leave no stone unturned when it comes to the pursuit of pleasure
Oral skills are top notch (the guy loves to cook, so of course he’s going to have some kind of oral fixation) and he enjoys giving as much as receiving
Your blow job is the best one he’s ever had, hands down. The entire time, when he’s not moaning and groaning, Masamune is trying hard not to entertain fantasies of cutting down the lucky guy you got to practice on with his katana
Speaking of moaning and groaning, the man is loud and doesn’t care. In fact, he would like nothing more than to turn up the volume so that everyone knows what a good time the both of you are having
You won’t mind swallowing: the man eats his fruits and vegetables and has healthy, home-cooked meals
Magic fingers. Masamune has had ample experience mixing, kneading and shaping culinary delicacies by hand. Finds that G-spot like its got a GPS tracker. You never knew you were capable of squirting before
Dimensions: a beauty to behold, his cock is long and thick, curving slightly upwards to hit just the right spot when he’s plowing deeply into you from behind. Nice.
Energizer bunny: Masamune can go all night…and he does the very first time he’s with you (you can bet he’s making up for lost time)
Loves to cum on you (and later on as your relationship progresses, in you). The first night, he paints your stomach, breasts, inner thighs and ass cheeks during four separate rounds of love making
Best aftercare ever: Masamune will wipe you clean, bring you water and whip up something delicious in the kitchen to help you revive (hard core sex does tend to make one ravenous, after all). Prepare to drift off to sleep with your head on his chest, the steady beating of his heart the sweetest lullaby
Thanks for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚
#ikesen#ikemen sengoku#ikesen headcanon#ikesen smut HCs#ikesen masamune#date masamune#my writing#q&a#all request line
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Get to know my OC - Hwan
1 – Favorite beverage?
Alcoholic: not a fan of alcohol drinks. Are there even any underground?? From mushrooms??? Anyway, it’s probably something neutral like gin or vodka. If it’s import, then white wine.
Non-alcoholic: none? He always drinks filtered water…
2 – Favorite flavor?
He doesn’t like intense flavors, but something with a hint of sour flavor is a go.
3 – Favorite food?
It’s that disgusting worm-extracted JELLO.
4 – Meal of the day?
Snacks in the canteen. Because jello…
5 – Food / flavor they hate?
SWEETS. Food is dull underground in general, and it is favored to salty than sweet. Plus it hurts the teeth.
6 – Spicy food?
NO.
7 – Favorite animal?
Ahuizotls. He used to own those otter-doggos with his previous lover, and would like to own one again in the future.
8 – Nightwear?
Just underwear, maybe with a tank top. He’d rather wear less suffocating clothes after a stressful day. At home he’s plain naked.
9 – Position they sleep in?
On his side, with one hand under the pillow holding an army knife.
10 – Morning or owl person?
Night owl. He usually volunteers to take guard duty before sleep out of paranoia, and he often works in late.
11 – Heavy or light sleeper?
Definitely light sleeper. He has to stay vigilant on the field, and had some pretty bad experiences in the past regarding his peers abusing him while he was unaware…
12 – On a rainy day?
No rain underground, but if he’s stuck at home then he would actually read a history book (probably from an illegal source in Zuian) or a lawyer’s magazine.
13 – Favorite scent / smell?
Bane’s hair…
14 – Pefume or cologne?
He doesn’t wear any of that patchouli in the army. On a date he applies some decent brand of cologne.
15 – Baths or showers?
Showers. Only bathes at Bane, when together.
16 – Cooking?
It is expected from soldiers to learn how to prepare venison if they run out of rations on the field, but that’s an emergency situation, and it would be very bland (maybe salted). Baking he doesn’t know at all though.
17 – Favorite time of year?
No seasons underground, but probably not spring because they have a lot of flooding after the snow melts, and that means more service work.
18 – Favorite holiday?
None (: Most of the holidays are built on propaganda to worship beholders, or anti dragon / -touched which is a big yikes.
19 – Buying or receiving gifts?
He likes to secretly gift the ones he love. Anonymously, because these gifts are usually costly or exchanged favors, and he doesn’t want any gratitude in return.
20 – Height?
According to my notes, he’s 183 cm, so pretty tall. And massive in muscle weight. He has a presence that’s for sure, and the horns are just an addition. He prefers not to stick out, because being seen makes him a target for cops and black-heads / antis…
21 –Any instuments to play?
Unfortunately he didn’t have the opportunity to learn.
22 – Singing voice?
He has a very nice, deep bass voice. It’s rare, but he likes to sing to himself, or in a group where he feels welcomed.
23 – Soliloquy?
When he doesn’t have to order around useless cadets, he’s very silent in general, and doesn’t speak much, not even to himself.
24 – Music?
Not much free time for him to listen to music. But he would dig alternative rock / nu metal, or post rock if he feels emotional. (He also liked the type of punk music Piers’ band produced.)
25 – Friends?
It has been very hard for him to make friends, mostly becasue of his heritage. People rather hurt him, so he closed himself in. He needs a friendly extrovert to lure him out of his shell, and once he opens up he is very kind and playful.
Due to his rank though he has been distancing himself more and more.
26 – Surprise bday party!
He would be very surprised and kind of timid. Only his lovers had ever remembered to give their best wishes, or close friends who would invite him for a drink.
27 – Favorite flower?
There is none underground, but I think he would love a poppy meadow, under a sunset.
28 – Wearing jewelry?
None, they are in the way.
29 – favorite jewel piece?
On formal occasions he would wear a black ornamental pin to tie up his hair in a bun.
30 – Fashionable?
He looks a piece of candy in tight leather clothes.
31 – Underwear?
For practical matters he wears either elastic boxer briefs, or jock-straps. Simple trunks on off-days.
32 – Makeup?
Nah.
33 – Nail polish?
Nope.
34 – Haircut?
His hair is an entierly different matter. It’s very messy and wavy, and because of his horns it is hard to comb it together. So either he lets it grow down, or shaves it off entirely. With short hair he would look like a sheep… Although a long time ago he had an undercut (which was more comfortable).
35 – Can they whistle?
Absolutely! Great at herding the troops together, signaling, and even making a tune.
36 – Braiding hair?
He knows how to do a simple loose braid, but nothing complex at all. He’d sooner show you fifty knot types.
37 – Scared of anything in nature?
He’s rather more alert than scared, as a professional monster hunter. On the surface if he would ever hear a storm for the first time, it would bring out PTSD, and make him quite frightened.
38 – Death?
Numerous times he had found himself at death’s door, so sadly it is not a foreign experience for him.
39 – Getting sick?
He would take medications and pretend he’s fine until he passes out, or just brute forces it through the day. Never takes any sick leaves.
40 – Sight of blood?
He is used to seeing blood daily, it doesn’t affect him.
41 – Paying the bills?
Actually he has a pretty decent salary as Captain in the military.
42 – Satisfied with their occupation?
By all means he is very proud of what he had accomplished on his field, but it is not his dream job. Before the Purge, he was actually studying to become a historian. After graduating in law, he had been also interested in becoming a legal practitioner. (In my humble opinion he would be also a great underwear model or porn star u_u)
43 – Are they creative?
His work requires to be very strict about routines and trainings. From time to time he likes to change schedules and pratices. In a way he has a creative intelligence to him when operating on the field, and adapting to unexpected situations, solving problems.
44 – Drawing skill?
Not really.
45 – Equipement?
Usual military garb: uniform, armor and hovercylce on the field, weapons of all type, PDA, gas mask, inhaler, binoculars, energy bars, healing shot.
46 – Sweet tooth?
NO.
47 – Gourmet?
He has a strict protein-filled diet and doesn’t like to eat junk food. Except for jello.
48 – Can they swim?
Yes, he is a good swimmer. Two centuries ago he was gold medal winner worthy in Pentathlon.
49 – Any scars?
Many, all over his body, from various combats.
50 – Handwriting?
It is surprisingly neat. He used to write a lot by hand as a historian student, and it stuck with him.
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Hi again! Seems part of my ask got eaten, actually had a request for you, if you wouldn't mind indulging me. Was wondering if you'd be game for a little reader insert with Anung Un Rama being summoned for some naughty times with a female summoner
The wind had picked up and a chill befell you like no other.
A knife.
A cut.
An incantation.
The earth shifted somehow. The wind changed its course you could tell. The blood on your cut hand dropped into a goblet rhymically.
It was the sudden heat that alerted you to your success. It was a steamy heat, like that of a very very hot summer night. Goosebumps broke out over your skin.
He was behind you.
That heat dragged itself all over your body.
“Clever witch” his voice was deep yet otherworldly. You smiled, sat cross legged on a blanket as you watched your wound seep some more blood. “My coven said I couldn’t...well perhaps more like I shouldn’t” You looked over your shoulder doing your best not to show fear.
He was a sight to behold after all.
You turned slightly more, eyes running up the behemoth that was Anung Un Rama himself.
“And yet, here i stand” The fiery crown did little to illuminate such a dark forest. His gaze was upon you as you turned fully to sit on your knees before him. “And yet, here I kneel before you” You did your best to show confidence, as best as you could for being naked.
Pesky ritual necessities after all.
“Speak, i see no reason to remain here” His voiced felt disembodied yet it bounced off every inch of the forest grounds. “My king, I wish to make my sisters before me proud. To show my coven I am stronger” You lifted your bloodstained hand to him. “I want to bed the great king of hell himself” His left hand gripped your offered one.
His chest shook with a low laugh. A stone finger ran across your lips. “Weak” He muttered.
That of course, you were not. It egged you on and fueled you. Your lips wrapped around the stone digit. You make out his features and saw a brow lift in curiosity. A tongue twirled around the warm stone finger. His left hand gripped your cut one harder and you refused to wince.
“I want you my king” You whispered against his stone palm. You slowly slipped your hand from his grasp. They settled at his hooves, slowly running up his legs. “I desire you my lord” At his thighs you leaned forward. “I crave you” Bold hands rubbed at his clothed crotch. You could make out the outline of an impressive member and the thought of pleasuring him both excited and frightened you.
He was silent for the most part but allowing you to touch him. When your hands freed him of his pants you felt a hand grip your hair. You looked up at him, bloodstain prints scattered over you and a look of devotion that made him growl in anticipation.
You took him into your mouth as best as you possibly could. What couldn’t be take in you settled to for your hands to help with. Your tongue licked the underside of his cock before settling on his head. You twirled your tongue around the tip before giving it a suck that produced a low groan out of him. “How long has it been my king? Since you were serviced accordingly” Your hands tightened around the base running up the shaft then slowly back down. Inwardly smirking as you felt a shiver run down him you took to swallowing as much of him as you could. He seemed to enjoy when you choked on his cock, the lewd noise making him growl.
When you were finding a rhythm to this he seemed to have a changed his mind. Your mouth left him with a lewd pop and your questioning was halted upon feeling yourself placed on the blanket. Legs wrapped around his waist your urged him on. A huff of warm air left his lips as his left hand caressed your breasts. Your hands ran up his muscular frame marveling every old battel scar that you came across.
His horns fascinated you and he seemed to greatly enjoy your hands running up the length of them. There was ravenous glee to your eyes as he entered you harshly. Even as you bit down on your lip hard when he started to quite literally fuck you into the ground.
His lips now, were a surprise. The kiss caught you off guard but you welcomed the feverish kiss he trapped you in. Your hands lost themselve in his hair as you kissed him with reckless abandon. The burn inside of you made you moan into his mouth and he ate up every sound hungrily.
Anung Un Rama tightened his grip on your thighs, burying himself to the hilt in your tight wetness as you writhed under him. The smell of the earth, the cold wind on your hot skin, the perspiration on your flesh and the heat inside of you. Every element seemed to triplify in your senses. Your nails ran down his back with every intent to leave your own personal mark. He growled against your neck, pushing your legs over his shoulder sent your senses spiraling. The deep thrust were hitting every nerve.
Your throat felt like sand from breathing and moaning so much. You felt lips wrap around a nipple and teeth graze not so gently. This only caused you to scream and further fueled the king to continue his attack on your other breast.
“A-anung!” Your voice cracked and your legs stiffened as that wave washed over you. Something left you, a noise that resembled a moan. You’d never been fucked in such a way and it was rendering you a mess. Anung Un Rama’s thrust had continued. With one final growl he’d buried himself as deeply as he could as he started to cum, he gripped your thighs tightly lost to his own pleasure as he pumped every last bit of himself inside of you. His hair obscured his face but you could make out how his chest was rising rapidly back and forth. The bruising hold on your thighs. The warm stickiness of his cum dripping out of you as he pumped all of it out into you.
It was just ragged breathes from you and him. A hand gripped your jaw and lips were at the shell of your ear.
Four words.
“Youre mine now, witch”
You closed your eyes as you grinned.
Now you were the supreme of your coven.
#ask#shinningstarnova#request#ns*w#hellboy x reader insert#hellboy x reader#hellboy#hellboy 2019#may i also point you in the direction of bigredhellboy’s fic too! its a wonderul rp blog who also did a similar request!#thanks so much for requesting! had a blast doing this one#anung un rama
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Let Go (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+, DubCon)
Just posting some of my older fics to tumblr. This is the Captured Hearts series, part 3 of 4.
Summary: When Arthur promised you he wouldn’t let anyone else catch him, you believed him. But some things aren’t meant to be. Will you save him, or will you walk away?
Author’s Notes: Yeah, adding that D/s tag because that’s pretty much where their relationship has been heading in my brain. I looked up DD/lg to see if that applies here, and it’s maybe 1% applicable because of the use of the “baby girl” endearment and some caretaking, so if that freaks you out, maybe avoid this story. Anyway, enjoy!
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Some Gore, Gun Violence, Shameless Smut, D/s, no spoilers, DubCon
Word Count: 4624
--------------
“Those O'Driscolls been around a lot lately.”
“Yeah, they been causing trouble two towns over, and now I hear they been seen on the roads nearby.”
“Sheriff better do somethin’ about.”
“You know he ain't gonna do shit!”
Raucous laughter followed, filling the saloon with a warmth and camaraderie you hadn’t felt in a while. You took another sip of your whiskey, letting the burn soothe your tiredness.
You thought of the O’Driscolls. You didn't mess with that gang; they were far too big, and their leader was a bit crazy from what you heard. You had tried taking in some O'Driscolls, a long time ago with your father. You both had agreed afterwards that they weren't worth the trouble. Swarmed like flies, and just as annoying.
You had traveled west, away from the town with the nice sheriff who wanted to deputize you, away from that abandoned cabin, away from that campsite, away from everything that reminded you of him. You ended up in a larger town, but it was nestled in the foot of the mountains and off the beaten path. People here seemed friendly, but only because they didn’t see many travelers, so you were sort of an anomaly. You quickly gained favor with some of the townsfolk, helping out here and there, and no one here thought it was strange for a woman to be doing the kind of work you did; in fact, quite a few women were doing similar things.
What a delightfully forward-thinking town, you thought, as you finished your whiskey and left the saloon. Everyone else was drinking, shit-talking the sheriff (who really was a bit useless), and having a grand old time, but you had spent most of the day helping a farmer hunt down a wolf that was preying on his sheep, and you were tired. You made your way to the small cabin you had been staying at for the past couple of weeks. The farmer you were helping let you stay in exchange for help around the farm and whatever hunting or foraging you could bring in, which was plentiful in the mountains above the town.
As you walked back, a group of rowdy looking men rounded the corner and started heading towards the saloon. You naturally avoided them, taking to the shadows and quietly staying out of their sight.
“I’m tired of guarding that son of a bitch. I can’t believe Ike made us bring him all the way out here.”
“He’ll bring in good money alive, but we gots ta wait for Willie to make the arrangements. None of us can just walk into Blackwater, ya know.”
“Yeah, yeah. This better be worth it.”
“It will! One day, everyone will know the Bollard Twins gang. We’ll take down both the O’Driscolls and the Van der Linde gang, starting with that dumbass Arthur that got himself caught.”
Your breath stopped. Slowly so it seemed natural, you walked a wide berth around them, and started heading back to the saloon. Picking a spot nearby where you wouldn’t be noticed, you catnapped, your hat over your face so people thought you were sleeping off the alcohol.
You waited for a couple of hours, until you saw them head back out again. Quietly, through the dawn, you followed them. They walked back to their horses outside of town and rode off. You quickly whistled for Trigger, who came galloping within minutes, and headed off after them.
***
Tracking them was easy for you, as they weren’t even hiding their trail. The problem came when you found their hideout. Three men were ambling around outside, and you didn’t know how many were inside. The cabin, if you could call it that, didn’t look like more than a shed, so you guessed maybe at most another two people were inside. Did they really need that many, guarding one prisoner? Even if it was Arthur, that seemed excessive. And on top of that, there wasn’t any good cover for you to snipe from. If you shot from here, they’d see you in a heartbeat. You slunk back down the hill, wondering what to do. Wait until nightfall? Arthur might be dead by then. Take a chance and snipe anyway? You didn’t particularly want to die.
But the thought of Arthur dying squeezed your heart painfully. When had he gotten such a tight hold on you? He was just an outlaw that you've had a couple encounters with. You shouldn't care this much.
And yet you longed for his touch, you dreamed of him, and your body sung for him after just one look.
You took a deep breath. You scanned the mountainside, hoping that you missed a good ledge or outcropping, but there was nothing. You'd have to just go from here, guns blazing. It ran through your mind that you could just leave him to his fate, but you quickly squashed that thought. It wouldn't feel right.
Sighing at yourself, you readied your rifle, made sure your revolver was loaded, and snuck around to the back of the cabin. You purposely shot away from them so they looked at the exploding branch first, then they immediately looked in your direction as you popped one in the head. The other two men started shooting at you, and another man came out of the shed and shouted at them to kill you as he also pulled out his rifle and started taking pot shots at you.
You started running, bullets whizzing by you. You were getting grazed like crazy, but you kept shooting, just trying to get any shots. You got one of them in the knee, another one in the elbow. They cried out and held their wounds. The man with the rifle cursed them out and kept firing on you, keeping you pinned down behind a large tree.
You counted the bullets. You knew it was a Lancaster rifle, you knew he would max out at 14 shots. When you counted 10, he paused. You came out then and shot a few rounds based on instinct and where the bullets were coming from. He yelled out in pain as you got him in the hand and the shoulder.
“Fucking asshole!” he yelled as he pulled out his revolver with his good hand and shot. One bullet tore through your hair, grazing the point where your neck and shoulder met. Another bullet grazed high on your cheek. You felt blood flow down your shirt from the wound, and you ducked back behind the tree, breathing heavily in shock. Your face stung, and the blood dripped down to your chin.
A feral yell echoed in the forest. You heard the sounds of someone being punched to hell, and after a couple of minutes, nothing. You peeked around the tree to see Arthur, half-naked and covered in blood, like a wild man. His wrists looked raw where he had been tied up. His chest and stomach were bruised, clearly beaten while he was trapped here. And he looked pissed off as he stared down at the man who had shot you.
Without thinking, your body moving on its own, you slowly started walking towards him, the blood loss making you less careful about your surroundings. He looked up at the sound you made as you stumbled towards him, his wild look making him a frightening sight to behold. But you kept walking, one step in front of the other.
“Sweetheart…” he finally said, his eyes softened when he noticed it was you and not another gang member.
He ran to you and caught you right before you collapsed.
***
You woke up in a tent. Not your tent. You tried sitting up, but pain shot through your body and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. You lifted your arms to see them bandaged in multiple places. You slowly sat up this time, gritting your teeth through the pain, and looked under the blanket. Your right leg was bandaged in a couple of places, your left leg only had one graze at your ankle, but you had plenty of bruises from hitting branches and rocks as you were dodging and diving for cover through the fight. Even your side had bandages around your belly, and you reached to your side and poked yourself, wincing. Could’ve been worse, you thought. At least you didn’t get a bullet wound. You tried to stretch, and everything stung.
You reached up to your shoulder. Bandages were wrapped around your neck and chest to keep the wound from opening up again. That was probably the worst of your injuries. You had felt the blood just running from your neck and really thought you were done for.
You sniffed the blanket. It smelled like Arthur.
And then the tent flap opened and you hid yourself under the blanket. You were naked except for the bandages and felt shy, exposed.
“Finally awake?”
You tried to nod, but just ended up wincing. Moving your neck hurt.
“Just stay still, lemme take care of ya,” he said as he moved next to you. In his hand was a bowl of stew. Your mouth watered.
“How long did I sleep?”
“Most the day. It just got dark.”
“Oh,” you said finally, not knowing how to handle this information, nor this situation. You looked at him, really looked at him. He was bandaged up too, and the bruises that you could see were turning an unfortunate shade of blue & black. He sat down and started feeding you quietly, and you accepted his help, since your arms were like lead and honestly, you wanted to just let him take care of you like this. It had been so long since anyone had looked after you in such a kind manner that you nearly cried at the tender care. He didn’t say anything nor made any fuss about it; he just slowly fed you, one bite at a time.
After you had eaten your fill, he went back outside to kill the fire and clean up. You lay back down carefully and wrapped the blanket around you, inhaling deeply and feeling a bit embarrassed about doing so. You were exhausted; considering how long you had been up before, and how much you had exerted yourself in the past 24 hours, you quickly fell back asleep, even though you had slept for so long already.
***
Sometime during the night, you woke to find Arthur sleeping next to you, his broad back to yours, keeping you warm. You blinked, and went back to sleep again, sure it was a dream.
***
When morning finally peeked through the tent, you felt groggy, but a lot better than before. Your wounds weren’t so bad a day later, and you could move somewhat better, even though you were still sore overall. You got up, threw your clothes on, and got out of the tent.
Arthur was gone, as was his horse, but you noticed a piece of paper under his pot of coffee.
Hunting.
Short and to the point. You could rest some more and just… stay. But you felt the urge to run away, to hide, to not be here when he came back. The string around your heart felt tighter every minute you stayed. You picked up the piece of paper and scribbled with some charcoal.
Went back.
You packed your stuff, got on your horse, and rode back to the cabin on that farmer’s land.
***
A few days later, you finally felt like yourself again. You had picked up some simple labor here and there, taking it easy on your sore body. No one had questioned your wounds; you made up a tale of falling down a hill to get away from too many wolves, and they believed you. The townspeople knew that hunts went bad sometimes. Wolves were truly a problem around here, as the farmer had asked once again for your help guarding the sheep at night when you had returned.
After a third night of no wolves, you stretched and went back to your cabin, admiring the 3AM moonlight. You were itching to leave again, go back to bounty hunting, back to traveling. You were a nomad, and this was the longest you had stayed in a place since your old man passed. You never liked staying in a place for too long; you didn't want to get attached to anything. Attachments caused… complications. And the thing you hated most was complications.
You washed up a bit with the small water basin you kept just inside the door before you changed into your simple sleeping shift. It was the girliest thing you owned; it even had a small red ribbon bow in the middle. To be fair, you picked it mostly because it was the least garish sleepwear in the store. It was silky soft and you admit that it was a splurge buy. But you wanted something to sleep in other than your regular clothes.
In the middle of the cabin, you twirled about just to feel the dress whirl around your knees. It was short, but it wasn't like it was for public viewing.
A strong, steady couple of knocks on the door made you jump. What the hell? The damn farmer better not be asking you to do a double shift. You pulled your coat on over yourself and grabbed your revolver. With your hand on the door handle, you grumbled loudly, “What is it?” You thought you sounded a little bitchy, but you didn't care.
“Don't sound too happy there, sweetheart.”
You immediately flung open the door without thinking. Arthur was leaning against the door frame, looking smug, probably because you had opened the door so quickly. He looked you up and down; your coat had fallen open, and your hand was still gripping your revolver tightly. He could see part of your night dress with its stupid girly ribbon bow.
You didn't even ask how he found you. You didn't exactly hide yourself here, and people knew you. One more reason to leave town.
After a brief second of looking at him in disbelief, you slammed the door shut.
Or at least you tried to. Arthur caught the door and forced his way into your space. He shut and locked the door behind him, the click sounding so final to your ears. Then he started stalking towards you. You walked back until you stumbled against the table behind you, so you sidestepped around, hit the wall, then took one step to the side. A hand slammed into the wall next to your face.
His other hand reached down and slowly took the gun away from you. Bending on one knee, he gently placed it on the ground. Clearly a man who cared about firearms.
But now was not the time to admire him. Or was it? He had not shaven in a few days, but otherwise he looked alright. In fact, he looked a bit scruffy but still attractive. The way he was looking at you with hungry eyes made your body tighten as he stood back up, but not before nipping at your stomach on the way back up.
“I gave you some time,” he said in a low voice. “But I can't wait any longer.” Reaching for your coat, he slowly slid it off your shoulders. It fell to the ground around your feet, revealing your dress. The fabric was thin, the neckline was a bit low, and his eye darkened with lust when he saw your nipples harden.
“You want this too, don'tcha.” It was a statement, one you could not deny. Slowly his hands went for your dress straps. He slid them down until they were off your shoulders as he stepped closer to you. He cupped your breasts and flicked your nipples under the fabric.
“Didn't know you owned anything like this,” he murmured.
“It's new,” you mumbled.
“It's… Nice.” In one quick move he jerked the dress down just enough so he could palm your breasts, his rough hands squeezing you. He bent over and took one of your nipples into his mouth.
You gasped and wrapped your arms around his head, running your hands through his hair. He moaned around your nipple, vibrating through you and making you hotter for him. He stood up and crushed you against the wall, taking your mouth, slowly at first, then with a growing need as his hands touched you everywhere.
Then as quickly as he began, he stopped and stepped away. You were suddenly cold without his warm body against yours, and you slid down the wall now that he wasn't supporting your weight. You watched as he took a few more steps back and started taking off his coat, suspenders, and shirt. His gun belt hit the floor with a very final thud. This was happening, whether you wanted it or not. And part of you really, really wanted it.
He noticed the need in your eyes. “You want this?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips. His hands were hovering over the fly of his pants.
“Yes,” you whispered.
He grinned, somewhat perversely. He sat in the only chair and beckoned you. “Crawl to me.”
You started to. Then you stopped.
“Don't think. Just do as I say.”
Your mind warred with your body.
“Trust me.”
It was so hard. So hard to let go of all control. So hard to trust so unconditionally.
“Look at me.”
You looked up at him.
“If you truly don't want somethin’, I won't force it. So please, trust me.”
A second passed. Then another. And then you slowly got on your hands and knees and crawled towards him. You were rewarded with a smile that made it oh so worth it.
He ran a hand through your hair and you leaned into his touch. Your body warmed; it felt so good just to be in the moment. You reached for his fly and began unbuttoning. He watched you, his breath shaky with need as you pulled out his cock on your own and began licking and sucking happily.
A grunt made you look up. He fisted your hair and pulled you off him.
“Gettin’ too close, baby girl.”
He hushed you softly when you whimpered. He let go of your hair and pulled you up until you were standing, and guided you by your hips until you were astride him. Lifting up your dress, he looked up at you as he slipped a finger into your wet channel. Your hands immediately went to his shoulders for support as he played with you, adding a second and then a third finger, readying you.
He hummed agreeably after a bit, and grasped your hips once more.
“Guide me in,” he said in a low voice. You reached down and wrapped a hand around his thick cock, stroked him once, and let him pull you down. You gasped as he started pushing into you; even after he had worked his fingers inside you, you were still tight.
“Breathe,” Arthur whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled steadily down, down until you were fully sitting in his lap, his shaft deep inside you. Grabbing your ass, he started lifting you up and down, and you held on for dear life. Your hands gripped his arms and his chest, feeling his muscles working as he pumped your body. It was like you weighed nothing at all, and the thought of the strength he possessed shot adrenaline through you, making you hotter.
“More,” you moaned, and he chuckled in response. Standing up with you still impaled on his shaft, he sat you on the table and pushed you down. Gripping your hips, he lifted you slightly off the table and drove into you with all his strength. The table rocked as he took you, his eyes possessing an almost demon glow in the lantern light.
In the privacy of this cabin, you screamed and moaned. You could feel yourself letting go of all your hang-ups. Your body loosened up, becoming Arthur’s pliable play thing.
He sensed the change in you. “That’s it girl, let go, let me take care of you,” he said as he flipped you over and entered you from behind. Without giving you a chance to breathe, he fucked you roughly, and you begged for more.
“Yes, use me!”
“Gladly, sweetheart,” he growled as he drove into you harder. “Tell me more.”
Your words were vulgar, dirty, lewd. And you couldn’t stop them from coming from your mouth. He slapped your ass and you reveled in the sting of it, pushing your hips out to meet his thrusts with pure need. You were being defiled, and you loved it.
Then you felt a finger caress your rear opening, and you froze. Your body immediately tensed up. He caressed you again, and you wouldn’t, couldn’t relax.
“No,” you said, definitively.
After a second, he stroked your hair comfortingly. “Alright,” he said softly. He slowly started stroking your clit again to get you hot once more. It didn’t take long for you to melt under his touch, and the trust you had for him grew.
Then he grabbed your waist and pulled out of you. He sat back down in the chair, taking you backwards with him. He leaned back and pulled you on top of him, your back on his chest, your legs spread around his. You leaned your head back against his shoulder and he nibbled your earlobe. You moaned as he violently shoved his cock back inside you.
“Ride me. Show me what you want,” he commanded.
It was hard to think past the soft haze of desire, but your body moved of its own accord, and your breathing hitched when one hand went to your clit and the other fondled your breasts. He caressed you everywhere, your whole body singing for his as you moved up and down on him, your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you got closer to the edge.
“Gonna shoot my spend all over your pretty face,” he whispered in your ear, and that mental image pushed you over your limits as you came hard, crying out his name as you shook with pleasure.
As the edge wore off, he pushed you down, grabbed you by the neck, and pulled you up to his still erect cock. He stroked his cock a few times and came on your face, his cum dripping down your chin to your breasts.
You felt dirty and used. You should’ve been upset, but you were feeling satisfied, almost unnaturally so. You had a blanket of contentment around your mind and it wouldn’t go away.
Arthur disappeared for a moment to grab the wash cloth next to the water basin, came back, went on one knee next to you and cleaned you up. You leaned back against his other knee and hummed happily. He tenderly walked you to bed, and you could feel him spooning you as you quickly fell asleep.
***
It was late morning when you awoke. Arthur’s arms were wrapped around you, and your legs were intertwined with his.
You immediately remembered what happened last night and burned with an inner shame. You had let loose, begged him for terrible things that only he could do to you, and at the end, he had finished on you like a dollar whore. You had done things that were so separate from who you wanted to be: an ace hunter, a great sniper, calm and collected in all things.
Quietly & slowly, you tried to get out of bed without waking Arthur. You had to leave, you had to ride on the open road and feel the wind on your face and just get out-
Arthur’s arms tightened around you. It was like being wrapped in steel; there was no getting out.
“Goin’ somewhere?”
“I… I need to go.”
He let go. “If you’re not back in 5 minutes, I’m comin’ to git you.”
You nodded, threw on a shirt and pants, and went outside to the outhouse to relieve yourself.
Walking back, you thought of just running away, but you knew he’d just chase you. There was no escape. Entering the cabin again, you were surprised to find him getting dressed.
“C’mere,” he said. You obediently walked to him, and he wrapped his arms around you.
“You feelin’ ashamed?”
You nodded in his chest.
“Don’t be. You got needs. S’okay if you fulfill them with the right person.”
“And that’s you?”
“I got needs too. We match.”
You looked up at him then. His eyes were clear like the morning sky, not like last night’s demon-possessed darkness.
“You got to stop running from me every time we meet. You know I can give you what you need.”
You leaned your forehead against his chest again, and he kissed the top of your head. He had a point. Your desires and his worked well together. You both got something out of your couplings.
“How?” you finally asked.
“How what?”
“How do you always know what I need?”
You felt him shrug. “I just do.”
You scoffed.
“Have I ever left you unsatisfied?” he asked, sounding slightly offended.
You were silent. No, he had always fulfilled you. You had no room to argue, not without being a liar, and you were most certainly not a liar.
He held you for a moment longer, then let go. He went to gather his things, giving you a moment to just watch him and think. You know in your exhaustion the first thing you had done was to go to him. You know that your body just moved on its own. You thought that had you been in your right mind, you would have run away from this dangerous outlaw.
Or maybe that was you running away from yourself. What were you really afraid of? He had shown you nothing but kindness and pleasure. He took care of you, made you feel fulfilled in a way no man had ever done, and had respected your boundaries when you truly drew a line. Because you knew that every time he had forced his way through, you hadn’t fought back. Not really. He’s seen you fight. He knows you would have resisted tooth and nail if you truly didn’t want something. But you knew, deep down, you wanted him to do all those debauched things to you, and you enjoyed it all.
Deep in thought, you hadn’t noticed that he had finished picking up and was ready to leave. He had been watching you for several minutes as the gears turned in your head, working out your emotions regarding him and this... situation between the two of you.
Stepping up to you once more, he cupped your chin to bring you out of your reverie.
“Next time I see you, don’t run.” He lovingly kissed your forehead and walked out the door.
You followed him to the door and watched as he got on his horse and rode away, presumably back to his gang. You realized that he had never asked you to come with him, to join his gang. You never would, of course. You wanted to live the freedom of a bounty hunter’s life, and that was non-negotiable.
Maybe he knew that. Maybe that’s why you and he had to be content with these random meetings and nothing more.
Were you afraid of wanting more? Or were you more afraid of him wanting more? Because with the hold he had on you, you weren’t sure what you would say if he asked you to stay.
--------------
End Notes: Hope you guys enjoyed it, it’s what Arthur wanted to do in my head, so I let him (let’s be honest, I’d let Arthur do a lot of things to me *droooool*). Also I looked up 1890s clothing and endearments and dirty terms so it’s somewhat chronologically accurate; I had no idea the endearment “baby” was used as early as the 17th century, and zippers weren’t used commonly until the 1930s. So all my cowboys have button flys (which are sexy anyway, right?).
#arthur morgan#arthur x reader#arthur x fem!reader#old fanfic#fanfic#writing#lemon fanfic#nsft#dubcon#captured hearts
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Storm
@okamideimos won the @creators-anonymous challenge and commissioned this fic for his OC Storm. You can find out more about Storm here. Hope you enjoy this :) - Galfridus
A splash of red cascaded from the knife, falling to ooze onto the surface below. Storm hummed a little as he moved the blade, swiping it from side to side, trying to recall the snatch of tune Merlin had sung to him the previous night. It was elusive, slipping like sand through his memory and his brows furrowed as crimson goo smeared over his fingers. It was a bit hard to see by the dim lantern light, but a peek out of the window showed a splash of vermilion creeping over the darkened landscape. Dawn was approaching, and soon the bustle of the day would begin, ending the boredom that came with being the only one awake. Adults were impossible! They slept way too much.
Storm put down the knife on the wooden counter top, grinning broadly as he picked up the bread he had, with some effort, managed to brown on the stove. He had done a good job with it. The toast was coated to the very edge of the crust with a thick, glutinous layer of berry jam, the jar of which he had found in the back of the cupboard. He took a large bite, smacking his lips as a delectable sweetness coated his tongue. It tasted amazing: he had used every single last speck of the jam and it had been totally worth it.
Jumping down from the stool he had used to reach the stove, Storm padded back into the bar, crumbs falling over the floor in a trail as he walked. Golden light was beginning to stream through the windows casting diamond patterned shapes onto the stones below. He hopped up to sit at one of the circular tables, resting his elbows on the wood as he chewed his toast, ears pricked to catch any voices or clomps of footsteps upstairs. But there was nothing; nothing but a soft snuffle coming from behind the counter, punctuated by whistles and snorts.
He licked his fingers, sucking at the traces of remaining jam before wiping his sticky hands on his trousers, a thin coat of fibres adhering to his skin. With a shrug, Storm climbed down from the stool to tiptoe across The Boar Hat, stepping carefully around the tables and over the uneven floor. He had met Hawk before of course on the many visits Merlin would make to catch up with her old comrades, bringing her ever-curious young son along with her, but this was the first time Storm had really appreciated what he was seeing. A talking pig - an oddity he had not come across outside of this place even in Merlin’s lab - and he was keen to get a closer look. Something had to explain the animal’s power of speech, and he was going to find out what it was.
The fat, pink body lying prone on the floor rose and fell as Hawk snored, bristles of the pig’s hair standing to attention in the cool draft of morning air. Storm crept towards him, head tilted as he looked the animal over, trying to spot any sign or symbol that might explain the creature’s strange abilities. The pig’s skin was unblemished, and Storm’s brows drew together, mouth twisting a little to the side. Merlin had told him of the various escapades the Sins had got up to in the Second Holy War, the foes they had faced and the battles they had fought, this pig travelling alongside them at all times. Meliodas had described in detail just the previous night how Hawk had been sizzled up by lightning and kicked halfway across a forest, as the other Sins laughed, the pig interrupting with indignant squeals. Yet here he was, not only snoring peacefully but completely unmarked. It did not make any sense at all.
It was clear a thorough examination was called for. Storm crouched down, running his hands over the pig’s fleshy flanks, pausing his movements sharply when Hawk raised his head and grunted. Seconds ticked by, Storm sipping the air with barely there breaths as he waited for the creature to relax, snores coming in faint whiffles before he continued his work. The animal’s skin was surprisingly hard and scratchy under his fingertips and the legs were snort with neat trotters, the feet dainty almost as they moved back and forth in Hawk’s sleep. But this was not concerning; Storm had seen dogs in Camelot behaving in the same way and, as he continued to inspect the pig, he could not find anything which he would not have expected.
Shuffling sideways, Storm crawled to the right along the pig’s body, intent on studying the animal’s head. Hawk’s breath was hot on his bare arms, sending a shiver up Storm’s spine. Again nothing out of the common as far as he could tell: a wrinkled nose, thick drool dripping down to pool on the stones, dark lashes twitching as Hawk muttered something Storm could not quite make out about the disposal of scraps. He huffed, lower lip protruding as he gently pulled up the pig’s mouth to better examine the sharp, yellowing teeth. An aroma of boiled cabbage and slightly sulphurous eggs wafted towards him and he swallowed hard, but managed to suppress the urge to gag. He was a fearless explorer, an adventurer: he did not get sick because of a bad smell.
He was on the point of standing, stomach tight with disappointment when, on a whim, he decided to carry out one last investigation. Placing a thumb lightly over Hawk’s eyelid, Storm dragged it up a fraction, gasping audibly as he looked into the pig’s bright eye. Instead of white and iris and pupil, he could see shapes shifting in a shimmering mass, pointed bodies, deformed looking birds, demented animals with pointed claws and teeth. He scrambled backwards, heart beating wildly in his chest, and crashed straight into the wooden shelves behind him. The glasses stacked neatly there wobbled then fell, crashing to shards on the flagons below. The bottles lined up above also toppled, several joining the glittering splinters of glass, colourful contents spreading out in puddles on the floor. Storm coughed, the alcohol tickling his nose as Hawk stirred beside him.
“Oi!” the pig cried, his snout raised into the air. “What a mess! You’re in trouble now.”
“But…” Storm felt the blood drain from his face as boot heels clacked on the wooden stairs, the clipped tread both familiar and frightening. He closed his eyes, flinching as he heard his name yelled across the bar.
“Storm! How dare you!” Merlin’s voice was hard and cold. “I told you yesterday you were on thin ice. What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just behave?”
Eyes wide, Storm began his defence. “I didn’t mean it,” he whined. “I was just…”
“I don’t want to hear any of your excuses. You are impossible. I’m taking you straight home, and you will spend the whole day in your room. I am so cross with you!” Merlin’s arms were folded tightly over her chest, her face set like ice and Storm knew she meant it.
Rage boiled inside him. It was so unfair. She wouldn’t even let him explain. Power surged through him, his eyes darkening to pitch as the air shivered, sparks crackling at his fingertips. Hawk have a loud squeaking before scurrying beneath one of the tables, but Storm did not care. He needed to hurt, to destroy. He was about to unleash the full force of his wrath when a lazy voice called, “Hey, Merlin, it’s alright. The boy looks sorry enough~”
The anger fizzed out as quickly as it had come. Storm gulped, a shadow falling over his face as Ban peered at him over Merlin’s shoulder. The human was scary to behold with his pointed canines and impossible height, but the boy could feel his thoughts and knew the Fox Sin to be kind at heart. True to form the man ruffled Storm’s hair, face breaking into a leering grin. “He’s only five, right? Cut him some slack.”
Casting her son a cold look, Merlin muttered something under her breath and the gold, green and violet puddles on the floor separating before swooshing upwards. Clear bottles reformed around the colourful patches before soaring back to their place on the shelf, thin silver shards flying through the air to snap into place as the glasses also repaired themselves, no trace of the breaks visible to the naked eye as the vessels stacked themselves neatly away. “See, no harm done,” Ban said with a shrug, giving Storm a pat on the shoulder then sloping off to the kitchen.
His heart rate was just beginning to approach something more normal when a loud bellow pounded through the space. Merlin’s head shot upwards, the orb of power she always carried materialising in her hand as she turned to face the source of the disturbance. Storm’s mouth fell open as Ban thundered back into the bar, his face so fierce he was almost unrecognisable.
“Master!” he called. Hawk struggled out from beneath the table he’d squeezed under, shaking a little as Ban glowered down at him. “Did you eat this?” Ban demanded, shoving the empty jar practically into the pig’s face.
Hawk was squealing a protest when Storm stuttered, “Um… I ate it. I… It was just in the cupboard. I thought…” Ban’s stern gaze shot quickly in his direction and Storm’s eyes went wide, but to his relief the angry human just shrugged, shaking his head a bit as the fury in his eyes morphed into something softer.
“Nevermind~” Ban’s body slumped. “You weren’t to know.”
Storm opened his mouth to ask what was going on, when suddenly he was flooded with Ban’s thoughts and feelings. This human’s heart always was easy to read. He did not want to pry, but Storm could not stop the tide of information which washed through his brain, showing him exactly why Ban was so upset. The jam Storm had consumed less than an hour ago was special, a blend of berries from the fairy king’s forest, a treat for Elaine. Ban had come down so early to prepare breakfast for her, a way of celebrating their wedding anniversary. Tears pricked at the back of Storm’s eyes, his throat burning as Ban’s bitter disappointment became his own.
Quick as a flash Storm ran, pelting from The Boar Hat into the cold Britannian morning. He was still wearing his nightclothes and the grass scratched his bare feet as he dashed without thought over the ground, dew-soaked blades sticking to his skin. Merlin was right, he thought to himself as misery curdled in his stomach. He was impossible. He couldn’t even make breakfast without hurting people, without running things. Everyone would be better off without him.
How long he ran for he had no clue, but he stopped when he reached the lake, its glassy surface, shimmering like silver, spreading out before him for miles and miles. He had never seen so much water in one place, except for the sea with its tang of salt and fish and the call of squabbling gulls. This place was quiet, almost eerily so. There were no birds, no chirrups of insects, not even the ruffle of leaves in the wind. Storm took cautious sips of the frosty air, the sound of nothing ringing in his ears.
“What is this place?” he panted to himself, lungs tight and heart racing. The exhilaration of his sprint was beginning to wear off, and his legs shook and wobbled as he tried to catch his breath. Collapsing against a rock, Storm’s chest heaved so much he winced, the pain in his side and the raw rasp in his throat growing sharper with each gasped inhale. It took some time for his pulse to slow and the tears to spill in hot lines down his cheeks.
“It’s not fair!” he sobbed, his hands curling to fists which he balled hard into his eye sockets.
He didn’t notice the wasps until they were buzzing around him, so close it was if they were drilling in his ears. With a cry Storm sprang back, hissing a word Merlin would have thoroughly disapproved of as his shoulder blades whacked into the rock behind him. “Go away!” he yelled as the wasps closed in, aiming for his hands and face. The more he flapped his around, trying to wave them off, the more determined the insects grew. It was as if they were flying in formation. Panic gripped him, heart sinking like a stone as he realised the wasps were after the traces of jam on his skin.
Dark fire burst to life in his palms. Storm did not even try to stop the balls of Hellblaze, all Merlin’s lectures about controlling his power slipping away like sand. Without pausing to think, he hurled his magic hard at his attackers, barely even aiming as he charged towards them. The insects buzzed angrily, but flew away into the trees, Storm continuing to fling orb after orb of magic in their direction, powered by nothing but reaction and hurt until a sudden loud howl made him pull up short. The cry had come from the direction he was running, further into the copse.
He had hurt something. Again.
Storm ran forwards in the direction of the yelps, feet pounding into the uneven ground, failing his arms a few times as he stumbled over snaking roots that protruded through the soil. Patches of sunlight gleamed through the leaves, turning the world before him into a blur of greens, golds and browns as he rushed onward. “Where are you?” he called, as the yowls of pain stopped, twisting his head to look around to seek some sign of the animal. Shaking his head in frustration, he paced forwards, pushing branches and large ferns aside as he searched the woods.
He almost missed what he was looking for. The creature lay still, brown fur blending into the dead leaves that carpeted the floor, head resting forlornly on its paws. Little whining noises escaped from its nose, and Storm crept forwards, hands outstretched. “Don’t be frightened,” he said softly as he drew closer. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”
It was a dog, a young one to judge by the roundness of its eyes and fluffy coat, but it was larger than any puppy Storm had ever seen, more the size of a full grown wolf. He approached the animal carefully, tiptoeing towards it just as he had when he crept up on Hawk earlier that day. But this time his prey was awake, and it looked at him sorrowfully, whimpering pitifully as it held up its left front paw. Biting his lip, Storm looked at the wound, wincing; the poor thing’s fur had been burned completely away leaving a nasty patch of shiny red flesh exposed.
As tears threatened once more, Storm stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I… I didn’t think…” The dog raised its head, seeming to give a nod before it pressed its nose back to the ground and Storm felt his heart would break.
“I take it this is your doing?” The curt voice behind him made Storm close his eyes, tears squeezing out under his lashes. He should have known Merlin would use her magic to find him. “If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times. You have to stop lashing out. Your powers are lethal, Storm, you could kill something. It is your responsibility to learn to control them.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Storm protested as he spun round angrily to face Merlin. “It was an accident!”
“It always is with you,” Merlin snapped. “This is not good enough. Your intent means nothing when you are so disruptive. You have to stop!”
“I know.” Storm’s eyes slid to the ground and he watched as a line of ants scurried across the forest floor, some carrying small seeds in their powerful jaws. He did know, he always did remember when he was calm, but the thoughts left him whenever he was angry or scared. Merlin sighed and he risked a glance upwards. “It’s hurt,” he said, tears falling in earnest. Merlin’s face softened and she kneeled down, Storm hurtling towards her. “I hurt its paw. Can you fix it, please?” he begged as he clung to his mother, who wrapped her arms around him in return.
The air shifted, ruffling his hair as it moved and Storm sniffled as Merlin gently pressed him back, turning him so that he could look at the animal. “Don’t worry, she’s fine,” Merlin said softly and Storm smiled through his tears as the dog carefully stood, before bouncing joyfully around the woods like a yapping ball. He took an involuntary step back as the creature pelted towards him, licking his face with a rough, wet tongue.
“I think she’s forgiven you,” Merlin observed, chuckling slightly as the dog went for another lick, Storm laughing as she placed her paws on his shoulders. The weight was unexpected and he fell to the floor, the dog tumbling down after him, continuing to cover his face in thick, wet saliva. Tentatively at first, then more surely, Storm patted the dog as it panted hot breath in his face, marvelling at the soft fur on her head and behind her large, floppy ears.
Storm sat up breathless as the dog moved off his chest to bound towards Merlin. His mother backed away a little, putting her hands out before her in a vain attempt to keep the animal at bay. “Can we keep it,” Storm asked breathlessly. “Can we, can we?”
“No, Storm.” Merlin folded her arms across her chest. “And this is a she. You can tell if you look at her stomach. Female dogs…”
“I really want to keep her,” pleaded Storm. “I’ll look after her, I promise. I’ll…”
“Storm… no,” Merlin replied. “Now come on, we have to get back to The Boar Hat.” She took his hand, squeezing it a little. “Ban is worried sick about you. You need not worry about his feelings, he knows now what happened with the jam is not your fault. I explained that I have not yet educated you about the flora and fauna of the fairy king’s forest. You could not have been aware that the berries used for that confection are special. I suggest we go and pick some more tomorrow, and I will teach you how to make that jam.”
Storm nodded gratefully, then paused, pulling on Merlin’s arm. “But I really want to keep her,” he said forlornly as he looked over his shoulder, laughing in surprise to find the dog standing next to him. “She wants to come too,” he said defiantly.
Merlin sighed deeply. “Very well,” she relented, casting a disapproving look at the animal. “This is against my better judgement, but she is fully grown, and I suppose she will help teach you the importance of being gentle. But you have to agree to take care of her, and see to her needs. If she causes problems, Arthur will not be happy. I will teach you all you need to know.”
“I promise,” Storm readily agreed. “Come on, Rose,” he called with a grin, laughing as the dog barked loudly enough to shake the leaves from the trees. “That’s her name,” he said proudly.
“I supposed as much.” Merlin smiled fondly down at her son, before resuming her quick pace back to the bar.
Storm placed his hand on Rose’s shoulders as they walked after her, the dog’s warm body rising and falling beneath his fingers. He stopped short as he felt the fur stretch under his palm, looking up sharply to see the dog elongate by about half a centimetre. It was a barely noticeable change, but he could definitely see it, and dog’s proud whiffles enough to confirm what he had witnessed.
“You’re not full grown at all,” whispered Storm, grinning as Rose panted her agreement. “You’re going to get bigger! Well, that’ll be our secret,” he said as he ran after Merlin, Rose bounding happily along at his side.
#nnt#oc-storm#merlin#ban#oc-rose#hawk#fanfiction#next generation#nnt creators anonymous#thanks for letting me write this dei!
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