#red dwarf smut
Text
Space Corp. Directive #1215225
For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.
Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader
Warnings: None! A bit of ya know snogging
Chapter Four: Time Slides
//
The Cat had told you about it ages ago, when you asked to hear about how he first met Lister and Rimmer. There were hundreds of stories from those early days, how Lister awoke from stasis to find the whole crew dead, how they faced sickness and time leaks and the dreadful Queeg, how Lister was actually a god to all Felis Sapiens, and how Rimmer had once duplicated himself out of spite. That thought certainly kept you happy for a few nights.
But one of the most intriguing stories had been about this machine, a VR video game sent in a long-awaited post pod. Better Than Life could give you everything and anything you wanted: a different job, better friends, a new life. And it had been completely forgotten about.
After hunting high and low through the ship’s countless rooms, you finally found the disc, covered in dust and horribly scratched. Feeling deflated, you almost didn’t bother seeing if the old thing worked, but you took it back to your quarters and slipped it into your personal computer.
It took a few minutes, the disc was well over 3 million years old now, as was the computer system designed to play it. With a little help from Holly, you got the game booted up and ready.
“Holly? Could you deadlock the doors?” You settled onto your bunk and got yourself comfy. “I don’t wanna be interrupted.”
“No prob, mate. Doin’ it now.”
The headset felt uncomfortable and clunky as you lowered it onto your head. Static filled your eardrums, then a start up sound, reedy with age.
You closed your eyes. Or were they closed for you by the game? You didn’t have a second more to think about it.
When your eyes opened again, you had to narrow them against the smoke billowing out all around you. The game had placed you in a stark, metal corridor, not unlike those of Red Dwarf, except here the lights were low, casting purple and red shadows across your path.
You walked forward, following the corridor until you reached a huge, metal door. It opened for you, and bright, white light spilled out.
“Ow!” You raised your arm to shield your eyes. “Fuckin’ hell, that’s-”
You were on Callisto.
Blinking against the harsh sun, you tried to get your bearings. After years of unnatural light and synthetic oxygen, standing in the middle of the market square of your home moon felt almost too much to bear, even if this too was artificial. But it felt real. The stone cobbles beneath your feet, the gentle wind tangling in your hair… It felt so real, you could cry.
The warm sun, the source of all life in this system, greeted you like an old friend. Basking in her light, you held your arms aloft and breathed in home.
“Oi! Move it, sweetheart!”
You jumped back, eyes wide, just as a man rushed past, pushing a flower cart so heavy, he was almost walking horizontally.
“Sorry! Sorry.”
The market was heaving, just as you remembered it. If what the boys said of Earth was true, then all human life had died out in this system long, long ago. Three million years. Everyone you knew, everyone you loved, everyone you saw in this market every day, was gone. But you’d known that for a while now. So why did it make you so sad?
“Maybe not your best idea…” you said out loud to yourself.
Across the cobbles, a woman behind a stall called to you, offering up soaps pressed into the shape of flowers, stars, and moons. A clock chimed at the other end of the square, marking noon. There was music in the air, and the smell of freshly baked bread. If this really was all gone, you decided, you should enjoy it while you could.
Arms swinging, you took your time at every stall. Obviously, you had no need for money aboard Red Dwarf, but you noticed that every time you wanted to buy something, you could find exactly the right amount of change in the pockets of your Atalanta IV jacket.
“C’mon, darlin’! Fresh fruit and veg. You won’t get this lot past Saturn, I’ll tell you that for free, my love.”
“Celebrate the New Lunar Cycle properly, ladies, gents and others! We’ve got everything you need to throw the ultimate Gratification Day celebration.”
“Fuuurrrss! Get your genuine synthetic Ganymedian fuuuuurs.”
Nothing had changed. Life here looked just as it did the day you left for the stars.
“What do you do…” you mused aloud. “When you can do anything.”
It came to you fairly quickly. Really, you only came here for one reason. The moment The Cat had finished describing how the game worked and what it was capable of, the idea popped into your head and made itself at home there. But there was something else you wanted to try first.
You blinked and you were indoors. It was the very definition of an expensive, elegant restaurant. Of course it was. This whole world was built from pictures in your mind.
A high ceiling arched above your head, where chandeliers twinkled like bursting stars and wide windows opened up the night sky to you. In a blink, you’d arrived at evening. Time changed however you wanted it to here.
Round tables covered in pristine white cloth dotted the room. The guests, all dressed up to the nines, sipped champagne from sparkling crystal glasses, while penguin-like waiters zigzagged between them, holding silver trays aloft. At the entrance, the maître d' knew your name and bowed as you approached him.
“Oh, God.”
You looked down, suddenly panicked. You weren’t dressed nearly nice enough for a place like this. But as soon as you thought of it, your comfortable shirt and joggers transformed into the ceremonial uniform you’d only worn once or twice.
“Okay, this might be a bit much.”
You didn’t have a chance to change. Through the low hum of chatter and the light scrape of cutlery against plates, you heard someone calling your name.
And there they all were, sitting around a table as if nothing had happened. Alive. They were all alive. Montgomery, Falstaff, Mortimer, Stanley, Talbot and Shallow. Your captain, your friends, your crew. Dazzling in their own dress uniforms, they raised their glasses as you shakily approached their table.
“You’re late, Lieutenant!” Major Montgomery declared, though she was smiling. “Come, take a seat.”
“You almost missed the starters.”
Captain Falstaff, the head of Xenolinguistics aboard the Atalanta IV and your friend, poured you a drink as you sat down beside her.
On your other side, First Officers Mortimer and Stanley were eagerly tucking into their dinners.
It had been eight months since you last saw their faces. To hear their voices again almost made you shudder. It was too ghostly, too ghoulish. These people, your friends, they were long dead, as you should be. It was good to see them smiling.
Second Lieutenant Talbot beamed at you across the table.
“First class place, this,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to come here.”
“They wouldn’t let the likes of you in, usually,” Officer Shallow snorted.
They bickered like schoolboys, just as they always did, just as you remembered.
In fact, everything was as you remembered, like these people had been plucked from your mind and placed here to entertain you. The major’s dark hair, greying around her temples. Captain Falstaff’s habit of tugging at her earring. The ring of laughter that always leapt up whenever Talbot told a story.
They existed now, only in memory. But you’d brought them back. You weren’t sure how to feel about that but it was good to see your friends again. You’d missed them so much.
Together, you ate dinner and told stories of old times. Though you’d only been on a mission together for a few years before the disaster that upturned your life, there were plenty of good memories to revisit.
Who knows how long you spent there. It could have been days, for all you knew. Time meant nothing here. What felt like hours could be just a few minutes in the real world, you really had no clue.
In the middle of Shallow reminiscing about their first days together aboard the ship, his gaze was caught by something over your shoulder. He smiled and gestured with one hand.
“Friend of yours, Lieutenant?”
Confused, you looked around, only to find Rimmer standing behind you. His appearance startled you so much, you shot up out of your chair.
“Arnold?”
You blinked at him, trying to figure out why and how he could be here in your world, and all the while, you couldn’t put your finger on what was so different about him. He was dressed in his usual emerald green uniform, smart as ever. But he looked off somehow, like there was a piece missing, but you couldn’t think- Oh.
“Your-”
You stared at his forehead, where the tell-tale H should have been.
“You’re-”
Surprise morphed into pure shock as Rimmer smiled and took your hand.
“Come with me. Excuse us, gentlemen, ladies.”
He led you away from your old crew, following a winding path through the tables. So startled and so dumbfounded by the feeling of his hand in yours, you barely took any notice of where he was taking you. All you could do was stare at your entwined fingers, entranced by the sensation of his skin touching yours at last, his long fingers strong and deft.
When you next looked up, you were outside a familiar door. The restaurant had melted away without you noticing, and had transformed into the apartments you called home before you left for the next galaxy.
The change in setting was jarring enough to bring you back to your senses.
“Rimmer-”
He somehow pushed open the door to your flat without needing the key, and pulled you inside.
“Arnie, wait. What’s going-”
You didn’t get a chance to take in your home, which you hadn’t seen in three million years. The moment the door closed behind you, you were pressed up against it.
Rimmer’s body crowded yours, his big hands on your waist, his lovely curly hair brushing your cheek as he bent his head and murmured by your ear.
“I love it when you call me that.”
You gasped softly as his hands slipped down to cradle your hips, his fingers pressing in just as his lips grazed your neck.
You didn’t stop to ask how this could be possible. The Cat had said that Better Than Life knew what you wanted most in all the world, all the cosmos. Turns out, he was right.
“You’re all warm,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to shake as you let your hands rest against his firm chest.
“Hmm, whose fault is that?”
Rimmer practically purred the words against your throat. His breath tickled your skin, then his lips followed, pressing soft, tiny kisses up the length of your neck until he’d reached just below your ear. You practically melted in his strong arms.
Still, through the heavy haze that drowned your senses, there was a seed of doubt.
“This isn’t right,” you said, tilting your head back so that you could meet his eyes. “You’re not real.”
Rimmer smiled softly. And there was another giveaway that this place, as wonderful as it could be, was nothing more than simulated pixels and a clever mind probe. You couldn’t recall Rimmer ever smiling at you so sweetly. The game was learning.
“But I’m here, aren’t I?”
He took your hands again and led you deeper into the living room. You itched to explore your old flat, now more like a diorama of early 22nd century living than a warm home. But you couldn’t look away from Rimmer’s eyes.
“I’m talking, walking… You can touch me, at last. I know how desperately you want to touch me.”
He smiled again, a wicked smile that made your face burn. That was a little more like him.
“It’s all in your head. I know everything you know. Which means I also know all the naughty things you think about doing to me.”
He finally let go of your hands. Rimmer flopped down on the sofa, making himself comfy. Still his eyes didn’t leave yours.
“It’s enough to make a computer simulation blush.”
You looked away, more annoyed than embarrassed. Your Rimmer, the real Rimmer, also liked to tease you, to argue with you, and you never let him get the better of you.
“Shut up.”
“He’d probably like most of it. Some of it he’d love.”
“If you’re made up of my wants and desires, you’re just saying what I want to hear.”
“You’re not the only one who uses this machine, you know.”
That got your attention.
“Arnold?”
Rimmer shrugged.
“A few times.”
Your mind whirled at the idea. This could very well be just the game telling you what it knew you wanted to be true. Rimmer had never mentioned the game and had only a faint recollection of it when Cat brought it up, but he was good at hiding his feelings. Much better than you, anyway.
With a sigh, you motioned for Rimmer to get up.
“Would you just come here?”
He smiled up at you, his head cocked to one side.
“You want to sate your curiosity, is that it? Before you risk everything and make a fool of yourself, you want to see if it’s worth it. If I’m worth it.”
He uncrossed his legs, a blatant invitation.
“What I’ll feel like…”
“Rimmer-”
He shook his head.
“You don’t call me that when it’s just us. You like to call me Arn. Arnie.”
“You’re not him. You’re just a computer game.”
“Handsome one, though.”
He winked at you. And that was very Rimmer.
You couldn’t help it, you smiled. This was a game, one you’d designed for yourself and chosen to play. You knew this is how it would go when you put on that headset. So why fight it?
“I said, c’mere.”
Slowly, Rimmer stood up from the sofa. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft, just as you’d imagined it would be.
“He’d love you bossing him about. He’s ever so respectful of authority.”
He stopped in front of you. Had he always been so tall? It was driving you wild.
Those hands rose up to rest on your hips again, so warm through all your clothes. Your breath hitched as he bent his head, though only to graze the tip of his nose along your cheek.
“He thinks about you in your uniform, you know,” he murmured, and squeezed your hips for good measure.
Your heart jumped. Rimmer had only seen you in your uniform once, when the Dwarfers found you in the wreckage of the Atalanta IV. But you weren’t fully conscious for that, so where did the game get it from? Unless it wasn’t lying and Rimmer really had logged in recently.
There was a glint in his eye as he reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear. You watched the corner of Rimmer’s mouth as he grazed his fingertips along the underside of your jaw, his touch so light you had to hold back a shiver. You could watch him explore you for hours.
But if this was your paradise, a world you shaped for yourself from your own wants and desires, then this is not how it would go.
You reached up and slipped your fingers through Rimmer’s hair at the base of his skull and pulled tight. It made him gasp, his eyes squeezing shut, but his open mouth told you it wasn’t out of pain.
Tucking your foot between his, you forced him to twist round until his back was against the door. He hit it a little harder than you intended, but, Io, if it didn’t send a thrill through you.
You leaned in close, your fingers still tightly fisted in his hair, and watched his mouth as he panted breathlessly.
“So handsome…” You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and grazed your teeth there, retaliation for earlier. “I knew you’d be a good boy for me.”
“Oh, darling…” Rimmer’s back arched away from the door, keening under your touch. “Been so long since I’ve been able to feel anything, you’re going to make me- God, been three million years since anyone touched me, darling…”
That made you bite your lip, swallowing down a groan. The idea that none of this was real was growing fainter and fainter in your mind, drowned out by the soft whine Rimmer let out as you pushed your knee between his thighs.
“Christ, darling…”
He huffed, flustered, then suddenly, his eyes met your again, a lot softer and darker than they were earlier.
“Or is it ‘love’?” he said. “Been three million years since anyone touched me, love. Christ, love.” Rimmer raised his eyebrows. “You’ve wondered about that. I know you have. Wondered what I might call you. ‘Lefty’ is for the others but you want him to think you’re special. And I’ll let you in on a little secret… He does.”
His hands found your hips again. Your dress uniform had disappeared and you were back in your shirt and joggers. Rimmer’s hands were so warm, you could feel every inch of them through your clothes.
“I’ve seen all his little fantasies…”
Rimmer pulled you closer, moving your hips until you were practically grinding against each other. It made your voice catch in your throat, your mind going blank.
He grinned, a very Arnold grin that was as arrogant as it was charming, the kind that left you unsure if you wanted to punch him or kiss him.
“He’s a noisy one.”
You didn’t doubt that at all. The way he went on, always needing to have the last word and whining constantly about the others. You knew he’d be a talker, but the thought still made your blood pump a little faster.
“Don’t worry,” You took his wrists and pinned them down by his sides. “I’ve got lots of plans for him, as soon as he gets his body back.”
“If he gets his body back.” Rimmer gave you a pointed look. “You should tell him. Me. You should tell me how you feel.”
The change in conversation made you frown.
“But you just said, what if he never gets his body back?”
“Why should that matter?”
“Well, we wouldn’t be able to…”
You looked down at his wrists, still held tight in your hands; your tangle of legs that allowed him to rock his hips into yours and offer you the friction you’d be craving ever since you entered the flat; and his lips, so close to yours.
He still hadn’t kissed you. Maybe something in the back of your mind simply revered it too much. A quick fumble against the wall, that was fun, that was dizzying, but a kiss? That was too intimate, something weirdly sacred.
Who knows how many times you’d watched Rimmer talk about his favourite telephone poles, or the exciting possibility of aliens, or one of his past lives, drenched in military glory, and daydreamed about how it would feel to slip your hand around his jaw, run your thumb across his cheek, and kiss him so sweetly, he never doubted himself again.
“You like me for me,” Rimmer bent his head and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “You’re probably the only one in the cosmos.”
You frowned.
“Don’t say that.”
“You see? Always the first to defend me.”
His soft, fond smile made your chest lurch.
The change in pace was disorienting, and the mist was starting to clear from your mind. You had almost forgotten where you were for a moment, forgotten that this wasn’t real and this wasn’t Rimmer.
“You love me. I think that transcends the physical.”
You blanched.
“No one said anything about love.”
“No, no, you’re right. What do I know? I’m just a projection of your psyche.”
Your gut twisted.
It was a sensation you knew you would have no chance describing to anyone else. He spoke so casually, as if it were an undeniable fact, as if you feeling anything more than an embarrassing affection for Rimmer was comparable to the mechanics of gravity or thermal dynamics.
But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t. You weren’t in love with the idiot, you just fancied him a bit. Years in deep space without much in the way of physical touch made you do stupid things. He was handsome. He was funny, sometimes. He was nice to you. That didn’t mean you liked him. That definitely didn’t mean you loved him. The idea was laughable.
But the Rimmer that wasn’t Rimmer was looking down at you, his gaze soft yet steady. He wasn’t real, but he was a projection of your wants, needs, desires, and dreams. Everything he said and did was constructed by your own mind. But you couldn’t deal with that right now. You just couldn’t.
“I should go.”
You carefully untangled yourself from Rimmer. He didn’t protest but you could feel his eyes on you as you straightened out your clothes. Cheeks burning, you tugged at your shirt, pulling it back into place. You hadn’t even realised he’d undone a couple of buttons.
“Thanks for-” You flapped a hand in his general direction, then, feeling painfully awkward, you added, “You were lovely. See you later.”
You turned to leave. You weren’t even sure where you planned to go. Back to the restaurant? To see what else there was to explore here? None of that seemed to matter now. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your body still warm from Rimmer’s wandering hands.
You didn’t get far. One of those lovely hands wrapped around your wrist before you could take another step.
“Wait! Before you go…”
Rimmer gently pulled you back to him. He was so tall, his inclined head meant his curls fell across his forehead, where his H should have been.
“Just one little kiss?” Rimmer raised his eyebrows, his gaze already drifting down to your lips. “That’s what you came here for isn’t it?”
And there it was. The truth at last. Ashamed, you had to look away.
While working in the ship's darkroom, Kryten discovered that the developing fluid had, over the millions of years that Red Dwarf had been drifting aimlessly through space, mutated. They could make photographs come to life.
Not only that, you soon found that you could step through and explore photos and slides, so long as you kept within their borders. Lister soon found a way to change history. Idiotic as this was, it was exhilarating too. You had time travel.
Then it all went blank for a while. As Kryten later explained, after everything had calmed down considerably, changing one aspect of history meant that Lister never joined the Space Corps. This led to no Cat, no Kryten, and no you.
The next thing you knew, everything was back to normal. Despite the odd, sickening feeling that sat in your chest - a by-product of suddenly not existing in one time stream and reappearing in another - you felt okay.
You only heard the shouting when you were halfway out of the cargo bay door.
“I’m alive!”
It made you stop in your tracks.
“Textures! I can feel, I can fondle! Don't you think it’s incredible! I! Am! Alive!”
The explosion rocked the cargo bay. By some miracle, you, Cat and Lister were well out of its reach. It didn’t seem to bother the boys, this was all just another day for them, but when you realised what had happened, you thought you might be sick.
Later, when Rimmer was bemoaning being a hologram again and Kryten was explaining everything that had happened one more time, just so you could wrap your head around it all, it dawned on you that you’d missed an opportunity you would never meet again.
For just a few minutes, Rimmer had been alive. He was here, he was solid, he was real. You could have touched him. You could have held him. You could have grabbed him by his stupid face and pulled him into a kiss so outrageously good, he’d never ever want to stop.
But you missed it. You missed him. And now you were stuck again, uncertain and confused and scared of your own feelings.
It’s why you wanted to try Better Than Life. It’s why you wanted to find Rimmer here. You thought if you finally got to feel him, feel the warmth of him, feel his hands against your skin and his mouth against yours, it might cure a crush that had been steadily growing with every passing day. And the game knew it.
“Just one kiss.” Rimmer raised his index finger. “One kiss, darling. I know how badly you want to. You’ve been dreaming about it for so long now.”
“Shut up. I haven’t.”
Rimmer spread his hands.
“Arguing with yourself. I don’t need to point out the irony there, do I?”
“Arnie…”
He smiled.
“He really does love it when you call him that. And if it helps, he’s been dreaming about you too.”
The question sat on the tip of your tongue but you refused to give this Not Rimmer the satisfaction. Still, your mind span. It must have shown on your face because he smiled.
“It’s true, darling. He dreams about exactly this. Just you and him. He dreams about what you might do to him the moment you get him alone. And I’ve seen all your dreams too. I know everything. That one the other night? My, my… Shutting him up at last by sitting on his f-”
You were playing right into his hands, you knew that. You also didn't care. Time to get what you came here for.
You cupped Rimmer’s face between your hands and pulled him down to kiss you, hard. He let out a little ‘mmpf!’ of surprise, just like you knew he would, because the thought of him being sweetly stunned, and the little noises that came with it, had always turned you on, and this game was designed to please you.
Rimmer soon got over his shock. He kissed you back, matching your intensity, and let you push him up against the door without a fight. It was his hands finding your hips again that brought you back down to reality.
Heart hammering, you broke away.
Rimmer’s eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted. When he did finally open them, he looked dazed, like he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think at all. You knew how he felt.
There. You’d kissed him. And it was good. You got what you came for. You should go now. Who knows how long you’d been in the game. What if the boys were looking for you?
But then Rimmer smiled softly. He reached up and brushed his fingertips against your cheek. You both knew it would be your last chance to touch each other. You weren’t coming back here.
“You know,” he said quietly, all the mischief and antagonism gone from his tone, like your kiss had knocked it out of him. “I’m serious, love. You should tell him. He’s never going to believe it otherwise.”
“He won’t believe me anyway. And what if he doesn’t feel the same way? And he’s a hologram, I-”
“He will. He does. And… So what?”
Rimmer’s smile was a little sad. But then his gaze dropped to your mouth. He licked his lips. It was such a human display of nervousness that for a moment, you found yourself forgetting again.
“Can we…?” He swallowed thickly. “Could we do that again?”
You were only human.
Smiling, you ran a hand over the slope of Rimmer’s broad shoulder, the other slipping round his jaw as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.
That should’ve been it. It should’ve been enough. A quick kiss to sate your curiosity, just as Rimmer said. But then he squeezed your hips, and as you tilted your head to the side, you felt him let out the softest, tiniest moan.
You gripped Rimmer tighter, one hand on his strong upper arm now, the other looping around his neck so that you could play with the little curls at the nape of his neck again. And all the while, a thought, translucent and frail, whispered through your mind.
You should stop. You should really stop…
Rimmer groaned into your mouth, low and rough, pressing tighter against you as his lips moved against yours. He kissed like a man who’d only gotten the slightest bit of physical attention while he was alive, and had spent the last three million years craving more.
Before you knew it, you’d pushed him back down onto the sofa and fallen into his lap, your hands cupping his jaw, his still on your hips. You bit his lip, hoping to make him moan again.
Rimmer’s big hands slipped up your back, just as your fingers found their way into his hair. You couldn’t resist rocking against him, just to see what he’d do.
“C’mon, pretty boy, I wanna hear you.”
Rimmer’s hips jumped, his fingers tightening around you. He moaned against your lips, his mouth falling open, and you took his jaw between your fingers, grateful for the opportunity to press your tongue against his.
It was only when he whispered your name against your mouth that the fog began to clear. The illusion became more obvious. He didn't taste of anything. Didn’t smell, feel or look right. He wasn’t your Arnold. And this was nothing more than a dream.
You broke away but didn’t get far. Your lips brushed his, sharing one breath as you gazed at each other, stunned and warmed and dizzy with the need to go further. But this wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.
You smiled and ran your hand through his lovely, curly hair one last time.
“Off,” you said, and the game dissolved around you.
You yanked off the headset and pulled in a lungful of air. It felt like you’d been swimming up for hours, your arms and legs aching, your chest about to burst, and had finally broken through the surface.
Standing on uncertain legs, you glanced at the clock and saw that you’d only been gone for about an hour. The boys probably hadn’t even noticed you were gone.
Feebly, you found your way out into the corridor, hoping to put the game back where you found it and forget all you’d seen there. But then there he was, the very man you were hoping not to bump into for at least a week.
Rimmer looked pleased to see you, but you were too frazzled to enjoy it. Your heart was still thumping, thanks to his wandering hands.
“Ah, there you are!”
His green H glinted under the bright lights, a jarring and permanent reminder of just how pathetic your situation was.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, smiling.
It took a moment to get your tongue working. It was frankly a little disconcerting to suddenly be having a normal conversation with the man you’d just made out with in a VR game.
“You have? Why?”
Your voice was croaky from lack of use. Hopefully he’d think you’d just woken up from a nap.
Rimmer rolled back and forth on his feet, moving from his heels to his toes, his hands held tight behind his back. He was too excited to notice the game and its headset stashed awkwardly behind your back.
“Chess?” he asked.
You smiled.
“I’d love to, Arnie.”
//
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Master List
#arnold rimmer#red dwarf#chris barrie#arnold rimmer imagine#arnold rimmer reader#arnold rimmer smut#arnold rimmer x reader#arnold rimmer x you#arnold rimmer you#red dwarf fic#red dwarf imagine#red dwarf smut#my post
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hi buddy, as a normal person who saw the post abt low rimmer and the secret instincts, yep. he looves having authority, being in control, barking orders at people, etc, which he's even admitted himself at least once. as such, (god makes the rules, not me) be patient and let him stumble through his fear and awkwardness for a while, get him in his zone, and be DESTROYED
Not me thinking about this on the bus to work 🫣🤣
A few years back I think I would have had Rimmer down as the whiny submissive type but now I think maybe he's a bit of a switch in that, yes, you could totally get him in his zone and let him wreck you 🥵 but also afterwards, (maybe my brain is switching to Chris rather than Rimmer here but 😅😅😅) he wouldn't mind just resting on your shoulder while you stroke his hair after he put all that energy into being in that kind of role 😇
I think maybe I'm also thinking of Thanks For The Memory Rimmer where he gets all soft and sings that song while being all sad 😔 You know how you could just cuddle him and make him feel loved even after letting him fulfil what could be a very hard core fantasy (depending on how he wants to play it out and how far you're willing to let him go 😈)
#I'm not sure how long this was in my box lol#red dwarf#red dwarf smut#rimmer#rimmer smut#arnold rimmer#chris barrie#red dwarf thoughts#red dwarf fic#red dwarf fanfic#rimmer fic#rimmer red dwarf#red dwarf rimmer#rimmer fanfic#smeghead
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I wish there was more Dave Lister x reader smut.
That is all.
Why am I so attracted to this slobby smeghead?!
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So...I may have been a bit horny...Anyways, enjoy some Foxian Jing Yuan and knotting ;)
cw. smut, penetrative sex, mating press, slight breeding kink, squirting, knotting, wet and messy, female reader, foxian Jing Yuan, self indulgent af
okay i lied i wasn't a bit horny I was A LOT horny
"Ahh, Jing Yuan, your knot is so big."
A salacious moan bubbled up your throat as a pleasant shiver wracked your spine, causing heat to trickle and pool rapidly into the pit of your stomach. You received a playful growl in response to your desperate cries as Jing Yuan knocked his hips into yours, stuffing his cock further into your pussy. Your eyelashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close as you twisted between the sweat soaked bedsheets, the silken material clinging to your clammy skin. You were completely dwarfed beneath your Foxian lover, his tail swishing excitedly from side to side as he dragged his thick cock through your soused walls, wrenching another high-pitched wail from your kiss swollen lips.
A warm hum stirred in Jing Yuan’s throat, golden eyes smouldering like embers as his ears twitched forward at the sound of your voice, the fuzzy tips flickering at the wet sound coming from between your joined bodies. His long nails raked along your plush thighs, pointed tips threatening to bite down as the tops of his thighs pressed into the back of yours, forcing your shaky legs to bend further as your knees almost touched your chest. The tips of your ears turned red hot at the debauched wet squelch from between your joined bodies, your creamy folds parting around the general’s thick girth as his cock crowded your pussy with every rough shove of his hips. His sharp teeth glinted in the dim light of your bed chambers, saliva dripping from his fangs as he salivated at the delicious feast that was spread beneath him.
"You’re taking me so well, little pup" Jing Yuan cooed, a sly grin lighting up his features.
His greedy hands squeezed at the fat of your thighs, your legs dangling over his broad shoulders and feet kicking uselessly at his back as you felt the bulbous press of his knot clapping against the hot button at the top of your pussy. Beads of slick dripped down the quaking insides of your thighs as Jing Yuan carved a path deeper into your plush walls, your insides feeling like they were turning to mush around the shape of his cock. Every time his knot pressed flush to the aching pearl of your clit, it emptied your head of any coherent thoughts, your lungs pinching in your chest and your heart fluttering so wildly you could hear your pulse droning in your ears. You delved your hands through his thick mane of hair, fingers twisting and knotting in the silky strands as you tugged harshly at the roots. A pleased purr stirred in Jing Yuan’s throat, long eyelashes fluttering over his warm cheeks as he fought to keep his eyes uncrossed and from rolling into the back of his skull. Your warm walls squeezed him snug with every press of his knot against your sopping entrance, the pulsing flesh aching to be buried in you as your puffy pussy struggled to stretch further around him.
"So tight" Jing Yuan murmured, his hot breath tickling the hollow of your throat. "You’re gripping me like you don’t want to let go. Is that right, little pup?"
You swallowed thickly, tasting the desire in the back of your throat as you nodded along dumbly to his words. The hot coil in your stomach knotted tighter, the pleasure running rampant in your belly making the tips of your fingers numb as you raked your nails along the back of Jing Yuan’s scalp. His tail continued to thump occasionally against the mattress, his breathing laboured as your intoxicating scent curled in the pit of his lung with each deep breath. He rutted into you like an animal in heat, an underlying sense of urgency to his erratic thrusts as he desperately tried to slip his knot into you. More slick dripped down the sides of his cock as your body teetered on the edge of yet another orgasm, head swirling in a cloud of lust as you tried to hold on to the fraying edges of your sanity. A sweet moan filled the air of your stuffy bedroom as Jing Yuan tasted the perspiration clinging to your skin, nails carving crescent shaped marks into your plush thighs as he squeezed at the alluring pudge of your stomach. He groaned deeply; the sound akin to a growl as the tip of his cock brushed against the soft, gummy patch inside you that made stars dance in your vision.
"Can you feel me here?" he asked with a seductive purr of your name.
He pressed the large palm of his warm hand against your round stomach, pushing down until he could feel himself moving intimately beneath your skin. You whimpered loudly, a constellation of tears clinging to your lashes as your toes curled into the soles of your feet. You murmured your affirmation under your breath as the hot press of Jing Yuan’s knot against the tightly packed bundle of nerves of your clit was becoming too much for you to handle any longer. The pressure inside of you gnawed at your insides until it finally burst forth in a rush of white, hot euphoria. The coil in your stomach unfurled as the cant of your hips came to a stop, your entire being trembling beneath Jing Yuan as you came with a harsh cry. Jing Yuan’s ears flicked forward at the filthy sound of your pussy slobbering around his cock, your sweet nectar coating his shaft as your plush walls fluttered rapidly around his painfully hard arousal. His breath was hot against your skin as he grunted into your neck, leaving behind wet, open mouth kisses as he continued to grind his hips into you as your blood simmered hotly in your veins from the umpteenth orgasm for the evening.
It felt like your hips were going to turn to dust from the friction between your bodies, the smouldering embers of your pleasure high quickly sparking back to life as Jing Yuan buried his boiling cock in you with a fierce determination to stretch you around his knot. With how many orgasms he had already coaxed out you, it felt like the hole he had been so passionately fucking was finally loose enough to allow him to fit his knot. His maddening pace did not cease, the overstimulation zapping your frayed nerves as another blistering knot coiled low in the pit of your stomach. You whimpered and mewled beneath the hot press of Jing Yuan’s mouth; his kiss swollen lips wrapping around a pert nipple as he sucked the bud into his warm mouth. Your spine curved into a beautiful arch, jaw slack as you let moans unabashedly spill from your mouth. Jing Yuan dragged the flat of his tongue across the white hot nerve, sending a bolt of electricity to crackle down your spine from the mind numbing bliss. You could finally feel your pussy parting around the edges of his knot and he could barely contain his elation any longer.
He let go of your chest with a loud pop, greedy tongue flicking over the soft, pink tip one more time as he panted between the scorching valley of your tits. His bright gaze watched your face contort with bliss; pupils blown wide as his tail started to tremble like a leaf in the wind.
"That’s it, little pup" he gently encouraged. "It’s almost inside you. You want my engorged knot, don’t you? Want me to breed you full of our litter?"
His words made your chest feel light as your head spun high up in the clouds. You raked your nails along his back, leaving behind thin red lines as tears threatened to spill from your glassy eyes. You whined as he pressed down on your round belly once more and you could feel every throbbing vein lining his cock as he smothered the fat head of his cock against your cervix.
"Want it" you babbled. "Want it so, so bad."
Your voice tapered off. You were struggling to breathe, let alone form a coherent sentence anymore. The rapturous feeling brewing inside of you like a maelstrom was going to tear every last single shred of sanity you had left in your body and you were just praying to whatever higher power there was that you could hold on for dear life. You could feel the incessant press of Jing Yuan’s knot against your drooling pussy and with one final, hard thrust his knot finally took up the space where it belonged. The sudden pressure of his knot filling you was what finally made the searing coil in you finally shatter. Your vision went white for a few, brief seconds at the rapture of Jing Yuan fully sheathing himself in you, the searing heat making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your world exploded. A growl bubbled up the back of Jing Yuan’s throat, teeth gnashing violently as the tension threatened snapped the moment his knot pierced your centre. The pace of his hips stuttered, eyes lidded and stomach knotted as he lazily watched the hypnotic sway of your bouncing tits.
"Shit…Gonna cum…Gonna fill your womb…"
Jing Yuan snarled in the next instance, your plush walls squeezing him tight and coaxing him into his own release. The relentless pace of his hips ceased as he buried himself as deep as he could, cock smothered against the opening of your womb as you were filled with delicious warmth. His heavy cock kicked with each thick spurt of cum, filling you with thick ropes as your pussy continued to gush around him, staining his thighs and abdomen with thin threads of translucent fluid. He purred with content, his nose brushing along your jaw as you whimpered and whined beneath him, your stomach tingling as he pushed another creamy load into you, filling up every inch of your wet heat as your soft belly swelled with his cum. A hum bubbled up his throat as your pussy suffocated his boiling cock, milking him dry of every last drop as he carved teeth marks into your neck with the pinch of his sharp fangs.
You struggled to fill your lungs with air, muscles sore and cramping even when Jing Yuan kindly lowered your tired legs back down to the mattress. His strong hands soothed the ache, a balm as he helped to calm the erratic beat of your heart and dislodge it from your throat. His tail curled around your thigh, soft fur tickling your skin with a featherlight touch. His hands pawed at your swollen belly as he dragged his bruised lips along your jaw, teeth catching your plump lips when they were in reach. A soft noise stirred in your chest as his tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, lapping at your saliva like it was a sweet nectar. You couldn’t escape Jing Yuan’s grasp, his knot keeping your sticky bodies stuck together as small rivulets of his cum dribbled down the insides of your soft thighs. His hands kneaded at your chest as he sucked on your tongue, a soft moan muffled into the hot cavern of your mouth at the thought of your tits fat with warm milk. It was enough to keep him painfully hard, his hips bumping into yours as his cock ached, the throbbing tip begging to release another sticky load into your womb.
A wet sob stirred in your throat as you swallowed around the lump, a thin strand of saliva breaking when you pulled away from Jing Yuan’s alluring lips.
"Yuan" you whined. "I’m already full."
A small pout tugged at his lips as he gathered you in his arms, hands resting on the small dip of your back as he pushed your pelvis flush to his. His ears drooped and he looked like a kicked puppy as you continued to try and wriggle away from his stifling heat.
"Just one more, please?" he asked.
He knew you wouldn’t be able to say no when he whispered so seductively against the shell of your ear. It made every hair on the nape of your neck stand up in anticipation, the swell of his knot throbbing and stoked the flames inside your core once again. You whimpered, eyelashes fluttering at the push of his pelvis against your puffy clit, coaxing the bud to flush back to life from the tickle of his pubic hair against the highly strung nerves. A soft sigh blew out of your lips, ruffling the sweaty strands of hair clinging to your face as you offered Jing Yuan a soft smile. You rubbed your hands along his shoulder blades as he purred like a contented cat, nudged his nose against your jaw as he softly bumped his hips into you.
"Just go slow" you gently warbled.
A sly grin crossed his features as he hid his face into the crook of your neck, his deep chuckle vibrating across your skin as his tail started to sway in excitement again.
"Of course" Jing Yuan agreed.
But he knew damn well he’d have your feet behind your ears in a few moments and you’d be begging to be pounded into the mattress as your snug pussy milked his fat knot for more of his thick cum.
#my writing#hsr#hsr smut#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan smut#jing yuan x reader#fem!reader#x reader
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I’ll Always Come Back
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader; no use of y/n
Summary: “The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.”
Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DNI), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), fingering, oral (M & F receiving), p in v sex, praise kink, daddy kink. If I missed anything please let me know!
~~~
Summer in Jackson was a mixed bag. On the one hand, the warm weather made it much more encouraging to tend to your day-to-day activities; you could clean up around the house, sing along to the radio Joel had fixed up while you rearranged the cabin you had been gifted. You could go out and mingle without the need to put on layers and layers of clothing. And the plants—God, the plants! Things were growing, summer meant fresh greens and tending to your little plot of garden.
On the other hand, summer in Jackson meant extended patrols; the warm weather encouraged raiders to branch out further, to attempt riskier and riskier maneuvers. You never felt scared, why should stuff like that scare you after everything you had been through with Joel and Ellie? But what did get to you was the fact that Joel’s patrols were getting longer as the warm June days arrived.
Ultimately, things weren’t much different. You and Ellie and Joel still had time together and time apart, but it drove you nearly insane when you had to get into bed without him, wake up without him. The bed in the house you shared wasn’t all that large, but without Joel in it you felt completely dwarfed. It was like the mattress was swallowing you whole without Joel to anchor you to his broad shoulders and wide chest.
Today had consisted of next to nothing. Ellie had shouted at you while you were still half asleep, saying something along the lines of “Dina” and “movie night” and “back tomorrow, maybe!” You had offered a lazy “mmff” in response. And then you heard the door slam. You tried your best to spend the day doing something—anything—productive. Go for a walk, clean the kitchen, weed the garden. In the end, though, you had found yourself letting yet another day slip by completely wasted. Maybe not completely: You had found the copy of The Catcher in the Rye that you had picked up somewhere along your journey with Joel and Ellie.
You remembered how much you had loved the cover when you first read the book—you must’ve been 14 or 15, if even. The red carousel horse that looked so…messy and unhinged. That might’ve been what initially drew you to the book in the first place, not to judge a book by its cover or anything, but it just looked so promising. When you reread it, you found yourself comparing Holden Caulfield to one Joel Miller; the character’s intensity, his need to isolate himself in order to protect himself and everybody else, his crippling losses. It was all Joel. So maybe, in the back of your mind, you had really just started skimming through it today to remind yourself of the growth you had seen Joel go through in your time together. He was so closed off, so hesitant when you had first joined him and Ellie. Of course, the biggest difference between the real life and the literary was Joel’s ability to grow, to open up and remember how to feel; Holden never really got that sort of closure.
After hours and hours of reading and reminiscing, the sun had finally started to go down. You prepared yourself for another night alone in the house. You were happy Ellie had the ability to go out and spend her time with people she loved, but when Joel was out for so long, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jealous and lonely. But you were a big girl, and you could handle it. Even if you hated it. You changed out of your denim shorts and took off the tank top that was now fairly sweaty, opting to sleep naked. Might as well if nobody is going to see you, anyway. You curled up under the bedsheet, not bothering to sleep under the comforter, it was entirely too hot for that. You fell asleep far quicker than anticipated.
You woke with a start when you felt a hand wrap around your midriff, a voice in your ear drawling “g’night, darlin’.” Dazed, you turned yourself over to face the direction of the voice.
Joel was home.
Nothing could’ve snapped you out of your groggy state faster than the excitement of seeing him again after so long. Really, it hadn’t been long at all, but it was always such a relief having him back next to you. You clung to him, reacquainting yourself with his smell and the feel of him. Just as quickly, though, you pushed yourself up and off of him.
“You’re dirty.”
“Missed you too, sweetheart.” He pulled you back down to him, caging you in with his arms. “Don’t’cha like dirty, baby?” He laughed while you tried to wriggle yourself out of his hold.
“Like it when it’s how you’re acting, not when you’re literally caked in dirt.” You faked outrage, hitting his chest softly.
“C’mon, know you like seein’ me this way.”
And he was right, obviously. You loved seeing his hair pushed back with sweat, feeling his calloused hands against your bare back, tracing his collarbones and feeling the gravelly remnants of dirt.
“You had a good patrol, then?” You asked, finally letting yourself fall atop him, truly not caring about the dirt and sweat.
“It was alright. Uneventful. Fuckin’ hot out there, though.”
“Maybe it’s time to start wearing shorts, cowboy.”
“Yeah, that’s what everybody wants to see. My old man knees shinin’ out in the sun.”
You giggled. He traced his hands down your naked body, letting himself feel every dimple and curve.
“You got th’right idea. Nothin’ like comin’ in from the heat to see my baby stripped down for me. Should probably start doin’ the same whenever I can.” He squeezed your ass roughly, forcing a moan from your lips.
“C-can’t just walk around the commune naked, Joel. At least put some rips in your pants.”
“Mm, why walk around the commune in jeans when I could strip down with you at home, darlin’?” He delivered a smack to your ass, making you gasp. “Could just stay here all day ‘nd play with you. Make me sweat, keep me cool.” He quirked an eyebrow, tongue wetting his bottom lip before he brought your face to his with both his hands.
He tasted perfect, like the cigarettes he and Tommy swore they weren’t smoking, like whiskey, like mint, like black coffee. He licked at your bottom lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and let his tongue in. You felt him sweep the inside of your mouth, spit mingling and teeth clacking together as the kiss intensified. Without separating himself from you, Joel sat up, grabbing you by the hair and biting your bottom lip.
“Gonna be good f’me?” He still had you by the hair as he started to undo his belt. “Gonna show daddy what you missed so much while I was gone?”
“Wanna show you, please Joel.”
He pulled your hair tighter into his fist, and you let out a high pitched sound.
“You can do better than that, baby. Try again.”
“Please daddy, I wanna show you what I missed!”
“Atta girl.”
He pulled his belt from the loops on his jeans in one swift motion, undoing his button and fly just as fast. You could see the bulge that had grown in his jeans, and your mouth watered at the sight.
“You wanna be good?” Joel pulled your head back so that you were looking into his eyes. “You gotta work for what you want, baby. You know that.” He laughed when your hands flew to his crotch, shoving the denim down his hips and doing the same to the boxers he was wearing. You took his hard length in your hands; no matter how long you had been together, no matter how many times he let you have it, you were consistently amazed by how big he was. He was long, thick, heavy in your hands, and it just spurred you on further to show him how good you could be.
“Spit.” He still had a fist in your hair, and he held you above the tip of his cock. You did as you were told, letting your spit drip from his tip, down his shaft. He made you repeat the action once more before letting you move your hands.
“Good girl, jerkin’ daddy off so good.” He groaned when you dropped a hand to his balls, your other hand working his full length. His back arched slightly when you gave his balls a squeeze, moving your hand to focus on the head of his cock. He released you from his grip.
“Open your mouth, baby, give your daddy a show, huh?” You jumped at the chance, shuffling down his body and lowering your face between his hips. You kept one hand working up and down his shaft and took as much as you could in your mouth, flicking your tongue against his most sensitive spots.
“Fuck, good girl. Gonna make me cum if you keep going like that. Fuck!” You took his rambling as an opportunity to take as much of him as you could down your throat. Suddenly, his hand was back in your hair, pulling you off of him. A string of your saliva kept you connected to his cock, dripping from your puffy lips.
Joel brought your face back up to his, catching you in a heated kiss. You felt him bite your bottom lip, your own tongue tasting the inside of his mouth. He broke away for just long enough to flip you onto your back. He stood over you, pulling his jeans off completely and staring down at you hungrily.
“Y’out here sayin’ you don’t like dirty. You got such a mouth on you, baby, y’know it’s not good to go ‘round lyin’.” He pulled you towards him by your ankles, letting your legs fall over the edge of the bed before he kneeled in front of you and hiked them up on his shoulders. “See how I know you were lyin’?” He wasted no time showing you, pushing a thick finger into your cunt. “Drippin’ baby, fuckin’ soaked. S’all for daddy, isn’t it, sweetheart?” You moaned at the sudden intrusion. Just one of Joel’s fingers was enough to make you lose control completely. He twisted it inside you, pumping in and out slowly.
“Tell me it’s for daddy.”
“I—it’s all for, it’s all f—for daddy!” You gasped when you felt another one of his fingers exploring your slit, using your wet to force itself in beside his other finger.
“S’what I thought.” He curled his fingers, bringing his mouth down to your clit and sucking hard. You let out a scream of his name. He only sucked harder, letting the bundle of nerves go with a pop.
“Cum on my fingers, baby. C’mon now, give it to me.” You felt his fingers, still curled, start rubbing against the spongy spot inside of you. Your walls began to clench around his fingers, his mouth once again finding a pace on your clit. You came around his fingers with a jumbled mixture of gasps and screams, barely registering how he talked you through it.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it. Yeah, show daddy what a good girl you are.” Joel placed another kiss on your clit, slowly slipping his fingers out of you. Though your mind was still foggy from the orgasm he had just given you, you whined at the sudden emptiness. When he stood above you again, you reached your arms up for him. He smiled down at you, bending over to kiss your forehead and then your lips.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, not done yet.” He straightened himself out a little, placing a knee on the bed next to you. You reached out to brush your fingers over his thigh. God, he was so muscular. You suppose, for all the walking he did, he should be, but still. Your legs were once again over his shoulders, now above you as he loomed over your naked figure. He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he lined himself up with your still dripping slit.
“Daddy’s gonna give you more baby, don’t worry.” You felt the tip of his cock nudge your clit before he lowered himself into your pussy. You both groaned at the contact; the squeeze of your cunt around his thick cock felt like heaven for each of you.
Once fully inside of you, Joel dropped the leg that had bed resting on the bed back to the ground, and pressed his body to yours, chest to chest. He pulled out till just his head was still resting in your pussy, before snapping his hips forward, shoving himself completely back into you, punching the air from your lungs.
“Missed this pussy,” he breathed out shakily, keeping a harsh pace, “missed feelin’ your tight fuckin’ cunt wrap around me like this.”
“Missed you so much, missed daddy’s cock—fuck!” He had your arms above your head now, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and slowing his strokes slightly, continuing to fuck you deep. You rubbed your hips into his own, desperate for as much friction as you could get. He felt you bucking your hips, laughing at your desperation.
“Poor lil’ baby, such a needy fuckin’ pussy.”
“Dadd—y, need it!”
“Watch your mouth, darlin’, I’m givin’ it to you, ain’t I? Remember who you’re speakin’ to,” he sped up his thrusts, making your tits bounce while you lay back taking it. “Need some fuckin’ manners, baby.”
“I—fuck!—Please daddy, need to cu—m on your cock. Please!” You were begging, he had you exactly where he wanted you. Fucked out and messy, your hair sticking to your forehead and your slick dripping down his cock to your thighs. He loved when you got desperate. Fuck, he had missed you. He had been gone two, maybe three days, and all he could think about was coming home to you. One of his hands came down between your legs, fingers attaching to your clit. You arched your back, moaning, inviting him to touch you where you needed him most. He massaged your bud in tight, neat circles, his fingers moving faster than his thrusts.
He was fucking merciless.
“Can feel that pussy getting’ tighter on me. Y’gonna cum for me again, baby? Gonna cover daddy’s cock in your pretty fuckin’ juices?” His thrusts were beginning to speed up, and within a few more seconds of him fucking you senseless and talking you up (“Good girl, good girl gonna soak daddy’s big cock. That’s right, beautiful, make a fuckin’ mess on me.”) you were cumming hard around him. You grabbed at him, pulling him down onto you while he continued to push his cock deeper into you.
“That’s right, my fuckin’ girl. So good baby, tha’s it.” You scratched your nails down his back, legs shaking as you wrapped them around him. His thrusts became sloppy, nearing his high. You took it upon yourself to gain back a teeny bit of control.
“Cum, daddy, please. Want you to fill me up, want daddy’s cum.” He growled in your ear, fucking into you harder.
“Yeah? Want daddy to full this cunt with my fuckin’ load, baby?”
“Please, yes please,” you begged, still trembling from your own high.
“Gonna give it to you, sweetheart, gonna—shit, gonna fill you up so nice and deep—” He cut himself off with a deep thrust and a loud groan. You felt the warm spurts of his cum deep inside you, moaning at the sensation. He moaned, dropping himself down onto you. You stayed like that for as long as you could; his cock softening inside you, his full body weight pressing you into the springs of the old mattress, your breathing heavy. It was perfect.
“I missed you so much,” Joel panted out, still catching his breath. “M’sorry for comin’ home dirty. ‘Nd late.” He pushed himself up off of you, now mostly-soft cock sliding out of you, turning to lie on his back. You crawled up to him, lying on your side as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You could feel his cum and yours dripping down the curve of your thigh and onto the mattress.
“You know I don’t mind. I know you’re out there keeping us all safe. You’re good at it.” You kissed his jawline. “Plus, means I get to welcome you back like this.” He smiled, letting you continue trailing kisses wherever you could reach.
“Just hate leavin’ you.”
“I know you’ll always come back home to me.”
He looked down at you, still smiling. You’ll never get used to seeing Joel Miller smile, but you’ll always love how he looked doing it. He kissed your forehead, pushing the hair out of your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning you up to kiss him.
“I’ll always come back.”
#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#Joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#the last of us#tlou#the last of us smut#tlou smut#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction
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Summary: A friendly reminder: Don’t challenge your two large dog hybrid boyfriends
Pairing: Alaskan Malamute!Ming x fem Netherlands Dwarf Rabbit!reader x Bernese Mountain Dog!Yunho
Tropes: poly au, hybrid au, abo au
Genre: smut
Rating: R 18+
Warnings: abo dynamics, hybrids, polyamory
Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, knots, predator-prey play, dirty talk, pet names, nipple play, spontaneous female orgasm
Word Count: 1,154
Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye
Note: part of the Mr. Wolf universe
Before You Interact
February Filth Masterlist
Listen to ♡ Paranoia by Kang Daniel
“It’s not like you guys could outrun me anyway.” You poke at your boyfriends, “I’m a bunny. Don’t they outrun dogs all the time?”
Mingi growls lowly, “Watch your tongue, cottontail.”
“Wanna test that theory, bun?” Yunho adds.
A shiver runs down your spine. Yunho’s eyes are dark as he stares at you. Something in the air has shifted. His typically smooth pine scent sharpens, and the undertones of dark chocolate become more present. Even though your eyes are fixated on Yunho, you can still smell Mingi. Your nose twitches as Yunho’s scent mingles with Mingi’s spruce and winter air scent. You glance at the hallway and debate your best course of action. Either you could stay here like a bunny trapped in the corner by big scary wolves, or you could find a hole, bolt down the hall, and make a game out of it.
The second option seems far more appealing. You turn your small upright ears to the side, listening to where Mingi is on your left. He isn’t moving, but you know his eyes are fixed on you. Yunho is directly in front of you, and he’s not budging any time soon. The space just to your right is wide open. If you move at the right time, you could easily make it down the hall and into your bedroom. Yunho’s eyes shift to Mingi for a moment. That’s the opportunity you needed. You bolt. You make it about halfway down the hall before you find yourself thrown over Yunho’s shoulder. In hindsight, you should’ve known better. Both your mates are dog hybrids, hunting dog hybrids at that. Mingi walks up to where you and Yunho stand in the hallway. One moment, your eyes are on the ground, Yunho’s fluffy dark brown tail also in your field of view. The next, you see Mingi. His finger is under your chin, making you look at him. He’s bent over slightly so as not to strain your neck too much.
“You wanted to play chase so bad. Let’s see how well our pretty little prey can handle the consequences.” He hums, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Again, I can outlast both of you. We all know bunnies last far longer than any dog can in bed.”
Yunho tugs your tail, making you squeak, “Let’s see if you’re still saying that when you’re hanging off our knots.”
Mingi finally moves his hand from under your chin and steps around Yunho to walk ahead of both of you into the bedroom. His spruce scent follows him in a waft of air. It makes your head spin with need. Your own scent must’ve sweetened because Yunho’s fingertips dig into the flesh of your thigh before following the other dog hybrid into your bedroom. You don’t even get a moment to process what’s happening before Yunho is throwing you onto your bed and quite literally ripping your clothes off your body. Mingi pulls you into his lap, his fluffy white and grey ears poking up out of his blonde and red messy hair. Your bare pussy against his joggers feels like both heaven and hell at the same time. You immediately start to grind against him. A low growl from him stops your motions. Instantly, you bare your neck to him, ears pinned back against your head.
“That’s a good little bunny. Listen to your alpha.” He smirks.
“M-mingi, please?” You whine.
“Please, what?” He teases, teeth gently grazing against your mating gland.
You whimper at the feeling of his sharp canines against the sensitive skin, “Need you inside me so bad.”
Your fluffy tail wiggles a bit in anticipation. Just as you think Mingi is going to sink his teeth into you. Your other mate, who has been relatively quiet since ripping your clothing off, pulls you from his lap. You’re sitting back against Yunho’s bare body. You can feel his hard member pressed against your back just beside your tail. Yunho lifts your body as if you weigh nothing and guides you to sit down on his cock. A loud moan escapes your lips as he starts to move you to bounce on his cock.
“That’s a good little bunny. So good for your alphas, aren’t you?”
You nod, “Feels so good!”
Yunho chuckles against the shell of your ear, “And to think, you were talking so big about how a little prey hybrid like you could outrun and out fuck us. You’re leaking slick, bun. You’re such a fucking mess.”
“Yun– alpha! Fuck!” You moan loudly.
Mingi stalks closer to you and smirks, his sharp, pearly white canines on display as he does so. He drops his head in front of your chest before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You squirm and whimper at the feeling of Yunho fucking you, combined with Mingi’s tongue swirling around the hard bud. His hand moves to stimulate your other nipple. You can’t help but bury your hands in his messy, dual-colored hair. The moment you do, he uses his free hand to grasp your wrist in one hand. You’re rendered completely helpless. Yunho’s knot starting to bump against your leaking entrance makes your mind completely blank.
“You gonna cum on Yunho’s cock, cottontail?” Mingi teases, his sharp teeth teasingly nipping at your nipple.
“Feels so–” You cut yourself off in a broken moan.
“So what, bun? You already that fucked out that you can’t explain yourself?” Yunho teases further.
You can’t hold back your orgasm anymore. Your body shakes, and your pussy convulses. As you ride out your high, Yunho pushes his knot into you. The feeling of him finally popping it in sends you into a second, much more unexpected orgasm. You feel tears start to roll down your cheeks at the intense feeling. Mingi’s teeth still tease your nipples as you come down from your high. Although Mingi didn’t get to knot you at the same time as Yunho, the cum on both his thighs and yours is evidence enough that he came at some point during your back-to-back orgasms. Mingi finally moves away from your sensitive chest and places kisses against your mating gland. You positively melt at the feeling. A moment later, Mingi’s lips are gone from your neck, and although you can’t see it, you can still hear him kissing. He kisses Yunho’s mating gland as well, and the other alpha growls at him half playfully. The sound of the growl has you whimpering and grinding against his knot.
“You’re fucking insatiable, bun. Is our pretty little prey hybrid desperate still?” Yunho tsks.
“Please?”
“Maybe I should give attention to that cute little clit of yours while you’re stuck on Yunho’s knot.” Mingi suggests a condescending hint to his tone.
You clench around Yunho’s cock.
“I think our little cottontail likes that idea.”
“I really really do.” You admit.
Mingi smirks, “I best get to work then.”
COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted.
Networks: @monsterfvckersunited @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity
Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
#mingi smut#yunho smut#mfu net#cultofdionysusnet#kwritersworldnet#kvanity#joongfryefff24#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez smut#mingi fanfic#mingi x reader#yunho fanfic#yunho x reader
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Righteous and Romance
Summary: Miguel is the God of chaos, and you are the goddess of peace and beauty. an idea originally by @hrhmimieucliffe
TW: light smut, p in v.
He was inherently chaos, broad backed and straight shouldered. He was the voice dripped in red and encouraged man’s wildest desires: murder, sex, gambling, money, and more. A drowning flame, he was a mystery cloaked in anger and resentment, mirroring unease at every fine point. He was insanity and she was clever. She was butterfly kisses of the sea salt air on the beach, an afternoon sun shower with a rainbow across the bluest sky. She smelled of lavender and truth, and she sounded like honey covered dew drops on the tongue of a river. Her laughter made men fall to their knees, and so did his sword. His words made widows weep, and her words made them pray for thanks.
She was all that was good and beautiful, and he was the fire that burned beauty to the ground in a pile of rotten ashes.
They did not see eye to eye.
“A martyr, creating such victims with your gifts.” Miguel roared, his nature as God of Terror taking hold of his mind as he stormed into your garden while you tanned in the grass. One of your eyes opened to see his hulking, angered form marching towards you and you let out a deep sigh in retaliation.
“At least I am one to give gifts, as I recall you only give grief.” You sat up, fastening your silk robes around your waist as you covered your shoulders and leaned on one hand. He blocked the sun as he stood in front of you, frown cutting the corners of his mouth sharply.
“Grief builds countries, grief gives men purpose and woman motivation. What do your frilly gifts do for anyone?”
“My beauty and kindness gives all who they grace a sense of purity and happiness, of which can also build countries and give purpose and motivation. Have you ever been kind in your life?”
“No one has given me a reason to do so.” As you stood to speak to him, you felt dwarfed by his stature and fixed your posture.
“You should not need a reason to be kind to another.” You spoke back and he stayed quiet, no other words being spoken.
This was a battle of beliefs, an unspoken exchange of ideas. You stared at one another silently before he turned on his heels and stomped away.
But the truth was, at night, he worshiped your body like a loyal disciple. HIs lips ghosted over your skin as you mounted his lap, being held but one of his arms around your waist as your head fell backwards. Miguel pushed your hair off of your shoulder as he kisses and licked the top of your soft breasts, pacing himself and going slow to savor you like his last meal.
“Your body is like a peaceful night under the stars.” He whispered as your hands wound their way into his brown hair, shivering at his sweet words. “Thank you for this, for giving yourself to me, my sweet Goddess.” He thanked you, appreciated you as your bodies rocked together in harmony, a melody only the two of you would ever witness.
“My bold MIguel, let me give you everything when it is just us, let yourself fall deep into love.” You spoke against his forehead as he rolled your hips against his, buried deep inside of you as you shook with overwhelming pleasure.
“I have fallen in love, and you are my only saving grace, you are my all and nothing could compare to our intimacy. I only pray to you, I only make love to you.” His admission of true love and devotion sends waves of ecstasy to your core and makes you clench around him as you both finish. Sweat covered your features as he laid down your bare body, staying close to you and refusing to detach himself. “I will never be with another like I am with you, to the Gods I swear it.” He announced and you cupped his cheek, bruising your thumb against the stubble.
“To you, my precious Miguel, I am only my true self, and you are my purest desire, my indulgence. You are mine.” You concluded as your eyes pulled you into a black abyss and you both fell asleep, knowing that tomorrow the bickering would continue and the night would create a paradoxical love once more, between Chaos and Beauty.
#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel smut#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel
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💳💳💳💳can I have some Marko please and thank you. Just pure playful, smutty goodness.
➾ pairing ; marko (tlb) x fem!reader.
FORMAT: drabble — requested.
WORD COUNT: 3.7K.
WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), unprotected sex, p in v sex, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), rough sex, multiple positions (missionary & doggy), fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, making out, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, marking, scent kink, marko is pretty rough & greedy, clothes ripping, cumplay, groping, marko is italian, implied marko/reader/paul relationship, risk of getting caught, possessive & obsessive behavior from marko, his slutty crop top is hot to me
AUTHOR’S NOTES: literally having some insane lost boys brainrot rn ,,, working on some more threesomes and just paul content (love him to death ngl), also !! adding more new characters to the muse list aaaaaand gonna try to focus on horny drabbles. just filth, no thoughts ❤️ love you all and thanks so much for your support!
The sharp, stinging scent of copper fills your nostrils, heavy in your lungs, burning away your senses with every breath. You still aren’t fully accustomed to the smell — it’s vitriolic, visceral with every breath that you take, causing you to briefly press your palm against your face.
Golden irises rake over you over the twitching corpse in the sand, appraising your state of wellbeing. Someone had gotten too handsy, too invasive in your space — and that was always enough to spell doom in the eyes of a very territorial vampire.
Despite Marko’s stature, his appetite dwarfed that of his brothers — twice as insatiable, twice as violent.
His tongue lashed across his lips, pearlescent fangs entrenched in crimson, soon to be lapped clean as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. It’s just you and him on some stretch of beach, just out of-sight of the boardwalk.
Marko’s idea of an enjoyable night is hunting and fucking — in no particular order. Paul finally relinquished some of his possessiveness and allowed him to ‘take you out’, which wasn’t entirely subtle. You agreed, of course — Marko was exhilarating in the best of ways.
“Didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Marko confessed, dragging the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth. His mane of golden curls billowed with the oceanside breeze, body glittering in specks of red. “He was a little stale.”
To you, blood is blood — but to vampires, it has a certain taste depending on the individual, a particular viscosity and aftertaste. Marko had amusingly compared it to wine — the age, ingredients, and bouquet, an amalgamation that made blood stale or sweet.
Your gaze flickered toward the now-lifeless corpse strewn about in the sand, a Surf-Nazi whose flesh is stone-cold and pale, devoid of lifeblood. “He did reek of something awful.” You replied, stepping away from the body and toward his motorcycle, instead.
“It didn’t ruin the mood, did it?” Marko inquired, calmly stepping over his dinner as he sauntered toward you, hand grasping at your hip. Sometimes, he had a horrible habit of getting carried away with feeding, and it veered off into an adrenaline rush or lust.
“Not in the slightest.” You mused, shaking your head as you swiped away a smear of blood from his chin. Before you could pull your hand away, he snagged your thumb between his teeth, lips curling into a smirk as he sucked the digit clean of any cruor.
An excitable sigh hitched within the bottom of your throat, eyes glued to the sight of his pretty lips wrapped around your finger. His fangs scraped across your flesh, teasing you with a feather-light touch.
Beneath the cherubic features and angelic facade that was Marko, he was a demon — in the best ways, of course. His halo was steeped in blood, crooked atop his mountain of soft, golden curls. His stare was incendiary, twisted together with lust and adoration.
“Should we go back home?” You inquired, voice soft and barely above a whisper. The rest of the pack were out hunting for the foreseeable future — which meant that the cavern would be left for you two.
Marko smirked, dropping your thumb from his maw before he coaxed you in for a kiss, open-mouthed and fueled by a blistering desire. A simpering moan escaped you, feeling his tongue greedily invade your mouth, hands grasping at your hips.
The kiss was more than enough to stoke a fire within your belly, one that demanded to be extinguished. A pang of honey-sweet arousal struck between your thighs, a scent that Marko could detect from miles away.
When he withdrew, those pretty eyes of his flickered toward your stomach, sluggishly tracing your form again until he met your doe-like stare. “If that’s what you want,” Marko clicked his tongue, fingers slinking toward the pliant flesh of your thigh. “You’re beautiful.”
It was exactly what you wanted — time alone with him. You flourished underneath his compliment, spoken through his forked tongue and sweet tone of voice. “I just want you,” You uttered, gasping when he nipped at your jaw. “Wherever that is.”
Admittedly, Marko found some sentiment in that.
Love was a complex ideal to vampires, especially the boys, who’d known nothing but carnage and survival, many decades of self-preservation. People were simply playthings, food — for him to hold some affection for you, a human, was a daunting notion.
He released you from his grasp, gesturing toward the bike with a nod of his head. “I’ll be patient.” Marko murmured, swinging his leg over as he settled onto his bike, feeling you clamor in behind him.
You wrapped your arms around his abdomen, digits idly toying with the hem of his crop-top, able to feel the taut musculature underneath. It drove him crazy every time you rode with him. Judging from the way he sat, rigid and poised, it must’ve had some effect on him.
As the motorcycle roared to life, Marko unceremoniously spun the vehicle around, causing a spray of sand to fly in the other direction. He sped off onto the stretch of beach, making for the cave at dangerous speeds. The cool, oceanic breeze swept over you, tinged with the sting of alkaline.
Snug against him, your digits continued to drift underneath his clothing, icy muscle flush against the warmth of your fingertips. He shot you a look from over his shoulder, incendiary and shadowed — a warning, more than likely.
Feigning innocence, you simply forced a cheeky smile, noticing the way his body shook with a huff of laughter. He invaded your mind, perusing through your thoughts like the pages of an open book.
“Careful, dolcezza.” Marko crooned, issuing yet another warning — it wasn’t as subtle as the last. As you crept into newfound territory, toying with your vampiric paramour, you had a feeling that you were in for it once you reached the cave.
Something warm blossomed within your chest, a familiar heat that simmered with desire. Arousal pooled between your legs as he narrowly guided the bike away from a cluster of trees, grinning like a shark when he noted the little flicker of nervousness on your face.
It was adrenaline intermingled with a twinge of fear, enough to produce a unique pheromone that Marko caught a whiff of. He revved the motorcycle, pushing down on the gas pedal for a boost of speed, wind whipping throughout your hair.
A pale, silvery moon hung overhead, turning those golden curls to a shade of platinum. Marko whooped and howled, leaving behind a trail of disturbed sand in his wake, guiding the bike over a hill and fallen log.
Your fingers clutched onto him, cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. The exhilaration of it all made your pulse quicken, excitement climbing to new levels. Marko’s cajoling laughter filled the air, the motorcycle gliding down a dirt path toward the beach.
The cave sat soundly beside the ocean, shrouded by a shadowy chasm and plenty of debris. The rest of the bikes were missing, much to Marko’s delight. As he hit the kickstand on his bike, you stepped off, letting out a strangled gasp when he grabbed your waist.
Without warning, he hoisted you into the air, snickering and teasing you with bouts of laughter as he flew into the cave, taking you right into his nest.
“Marko!” You squealed, feeling your back hit the mattress with a rather unceremonious thud, the wind being ripped from your lungs. His grin remained, pearlescent and glittering as he perched at the foot of the bed, teeth catching on the leather of his glove.
“We’re all alone,” Marko mused, and began to slink closer, abandoning his roost. He nipped at your jaw and lower lip, teeth delightfully close to your jugular. Your flesh felt velvety beneath his palms, belonging to him for the evening, much to his satisfaction. “What am I going to do with you?”
The scent of your arousal flooded his senses, throat beginning to ache with a dull throbbing. He absentmindedly licked his lower lip, hazel hues narrowing slightly as he looked you over as one would a delicious meal, but it morphed into something else.
Something more than that.
Part of him would always view you as a meal, as his thrall, his fragile little human — but the other found affection, a twinge of love that steadily grew into something possessive and obsessive. Marko understood why Paul was so crazy about you, why he worshiped the ground that you walked on.
It was the way you looked at him — smitten and enamored, as if you hadn’t seen something so beautiful before. While he enjoyed the fear, savored your nervousness, this was something else entirely.
“You’re perfect,” You exhaled, visibly charmed by his very presence, by the way he carried himself. Marko reminded you of a Greek sculpture, cold and crafted of an impenetrable marble — beautiful and stoic. Yet, he was devious, the devil disguised as an angel. “Pretty.”
Marko hummed, hands unabashedly roaming underneath your dress, groping at your breasts. “Aren’t you sweet?” He purred, listening to the erratic beating of your heart, nose skirting along your jawline as he inhaled a gust of your saccharine scent.
Your fingers reached for the nape of his neck, perusing through his golden curls as he pushed himself in between your legs. His hand hastily snuck towards the cleft between your thighs, seeking out that familiar heat as he swept his digits over your clothed cunt.
“Marko!” You whimpered, practically writhing underneath him as he dipped his fingers beneath your panties, gliding through your slick slit. He wound his fist into the thin material, shredding it apart with a brusque tug. His sneer made you flustered, shrinking underneath his stare.
“Want me to make you feel good?” He uttered, digits prodding at your cunt with a feather-light touch, enough to drive you insane. “Use your words.” Marko insisted, feeling your hands claw at his patchwork jacket. Your mind was a pool of crass thoughts, interwoven with your own embarrassment.
“Yes,” You blubbered, tugging on his curls with a sense of urgency. “Please, Marko, I — I want you!” His snickering and playful smile caused butterflies to erupt within the pit of your stomach, breath hitching as he shrugged his jacket aside. He peeled away those leather gloves, touching you with smooth, icy palms.
As soon as his mouth met yours, you reciprocated with a flurry of passion, scatterbrained and drunk with desire. His lips felt plush against yours, kiss turning sloppy as his teeth scraped across your lower lip. A gasp escaped you as you listened to the sound of fabric tearing.
Marko ripped your dress, uncouth and showing disinterest in the garment altogether. Your brassiere was next, but you were able to save it from an unfortunate fate, letting it join his jacket instead. His lips roamed over your chest, biting at your breasts, your sternum, littering you in lovebites.
He murmured something in Italian — something indiscernible, but it sounded pretty nonetheless. You felt something sharp just above your breast, the intrusion of fangs as Marko took a bite, enough to satiate. He licked his lower lip, lapping at the crescent-shaped indent before he kissed you again.
Much to your delight, his hand returned to the molten heat between your thighs, digits roaming along your slit before he pushed them forward. You shuddered, legs forced apart by his body as he deliberately stroked at your cunt, thumb teasing your clit.
The coppery twang of blood stained his tongue, which happened to collide with yours. Every kiss ripped away a wisp of air from your lungs, body prickling with an electric pleasure. Marko’s fingers found your entrance, easing themselves inside of you.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Marko uttered, his gaze wrought with a lust-warped intimacy. You shrank underneath his oppressive stare, heart thudding beneath your collarbone. “My thrall.” He watched the way your countenance blossomed into a vision of pure ecstasy.
Your hips twitched, jolting and rolling into the sensation of his fingers. He found a pleasurable rhythm, easing his digits in and out of your tight cunt. Your hand moved underneath his crop-top, reveling in the feeling of sinewy muscle underneath.
“Take this off,” You moaned, tugging at the tattered fabric with a sense of insistence. “Please, Marko.” Your voice tapered off into a whine when he curled his fingers ever so slightly, thumb grazing your clit yet again.
With a bemused huff, he obeyed, treating you to the charming sight of his lean musculature. His flesh was cold to the touch, impenetrable and sturdy like marble, somewhat sunkissed. Paul was pretty in a different way — wild, untamed, and unapologetically himself.
Marko reminded you of a sculpture, a cherub with a carefully-concocted veil — tear it aside, and you would find a rather beautiful demon. He stared at you with a strange intensity, savoring the way your nails dug into his bicep.
Candlelight danced across his skin, producing an attractive shade of orange that only made him look painfully perfect. He smirked when you bucked forward, chasing after his fingers — he cruelly let them drift away, only for you to let out a disgruntled whine.
He showered you in a barrage of rough bites and hickeys, letting them trail from your neck to collarbone, something noticeable. They were right alongside Paul’s — though, most of his were all around your breasts.
With another careful pistoning of his digits, Marko withdrew his fingers from your slick core, crudely sucking them free of your nectar. You tasted divine, a taste that he’d begun to crave. His hand moved toward the fly of his jeans and chaps.
Marko occasionally entertained you with foreplay — that was more Paul’s forte than anything else. The curly-headed leech was much more absorbed in fucking you until you were a sobbing mess, and that was what he intended on doing.
“Don’t be quiet,” Marko crooned, grinning like the cat who’d just caught the canary. The doe-eyed, mesmerized look you gave him was enough to make him pause for a moment, letting the intimacy crackle between the both of you. He kissed you, feeling your arms loop underneath his. “Sweet little human.”
There was something unusually attractive about Marko referring to you as that — he had all the power. Knowing that he possessed the ability to rip you open and chose not to added some amorous layer to your relationship.
His cock pushed against your cunt, and he let himself linger there until you were moaning, desperately pushing your hips forward. His soft, cajoling giggle made you involuntarily smile, but it dissipated as soon as he fucked his way inside of you.
Marko huffed, savoring the stinging sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder blades, knees squeezing at his narrow nips. “Marko,” You whimpered, knowing that he didn’t have the intention of being gentle. “I need you.” You sighed with passion.
His initial thrusts were erratic and desperate, not soft or coddling. Marko wanted to find a rhythm that worked for him, and not you. Roughness and brutality were the only ways he knew how, evident in the way he began to move into you. His cock slammed away at your sensitive cunt, feeling you clench and shake around him.
A blistering heat consumed you, coursing throughout your body like a tidal wave. It was beyond pleasant, white-hot and visceral as Marko wasted no time in picking up his pace. A low growl resonated from the back of his throat, cock battering away at your cunt.
You felt his hand spread your legs apart, hips brushing against yours as he rutted into you. Your fingers left scratches behind on his back, angry-red with little pearls of crimson. The way Marko obliterated you was borderline godly — a stark juxtaposition to the vampire himself.
Despite the roughness of it all, there was an intimacy to be found within it, a deep obsession that Marko felt for you. His face moved toward your neck, lips peppering messy kisses wherever he could.
A cacophony of lewd noises filled the cavern, accompanied by your string of pleasured moans and needy whimpers. “Marko!” You cried, unabashed as you yelped into the abyss of the cave.
When he pounded into you with the force of a battering ram, you swore you saw the heavens themselves, lips agape as you clawed at his musculature. Marko didn’t care whatsoever — in fact, it only added fuel to the fire as he nipped at any inch of available flesh.
“I’m close.” You panted, listening to the sounds of his heavy huffs and soft grunts. You were ensnared, trapped between his insatiable jaws. Clamoring forward, you attempted to kiss him, only to be met with a flurry of dizzying desire and teeth.
Marko’s lips curled into a grin, scent of your arousal stinging his senses again. It turned him into some feral animal, fueled by the primal need to rut. You savored this, drunk on his passion and ferocity. You felt his mouth press along your jaw; wherever he could reach.
You threatened to tear Marko asunder, digging into his flesh with such force that a human would find it painful. Thankfully, your paramour was supernatural — he was indomitable. Your throat burned from the constant barrage of sound that escaped you, lips swollen from the flurry of kisses.
He brusquely pulled himself out of you, cock oozing with beads of precum as he grabbed at your hips. “Just a little more, dolcezza.” Marko murmured, biting at your shoulder as he put you down onto all fours, bringing you right back against him.
You gasped, choking on air as he pounded back into you, cock hitting new depths as he hunched in close. You could feel his hand tangling into your hair, breath fanning out across your back.
A series of desperate whines left you, face buried near the pillows as Marko fucked you through your orgasm. That familiar rush of white-hot pleasure made you feel as if you were floating, hot and heavy between your thighs. Your stomach churned with molten heat, flesh crawling with fire.
You felt like you were going to collapse, carried away within the sea of ecstasy. Marko didn’t stop for anything, his pace voracious as he consumed you completely, cock buried deep inside of you — as far as it would go. His core felt tight, body snug against yours.
Marko’s grasp on your hips was ironclad, hard enough to leave behind imprint-shaped bruises. His chest erupted with a grunt, his noises subtle compared to your symphony of delight. You shuddered, body spasmodic in the wake of your release.
“Good girl.” Marko purred, finding amusement in the way you attempted to push your thighs together. He began to rut into you again, the intensity climbing to new heights before he pulled out, painting your back in ropes of sticky seed. That was his favorite.
He used the torn remnants of your dress to clean you up, pressing a string of kisses along your spine as you settled back down, body quivering. Marko was more than happy to gather you into his arms, smirking all the while as he pressed a kiss against your brow.
“I’m sorry for scratching you,” You mumbled, visibly sheepish when you noticed the marks you’d left behind. It wasn’t pretty — his cruor was drying underneath your fingernails. “I got carried away.”
Marko giggled, head canting to one side. “Apologizing for scratching the vampire,” He clicked his tongue, absentmindedly biting at the corner of his thumb before he cupped your chin. “You know how much I like it.” He reminded you, tracing your lower lip with the pad of his finger.
A sigh of relief escaped you, body damp with a layer of dewy perspiration. “So does Paul.” Paul enjoyed it when you choked him, too. Sometimes you worried you’d hurt them — even if it was an outlandish thought.
“He does love it,” Paul’s voice reverberated from the makeshift doorway, coat splattered in fresh bloodstains. Even his chin carried faint remnants of crimson, but his grin was more present than ever. “Are you gonna make it happen?” He asked.
You gawked at your mate, but Marko had some sly expression on his face. “Maybe when she’s done resting from us.” Marko interjected, careening into the sensation of your fingers perusing through his curls.
Paul huffed, letting out a soft ‘pfft’. “As long as you don’t break what’s mine, bud.” He mused, and sauntered away from the nest, leaving you and Marko alone once more. Much to Marko’s delight, you leaned into him, feeling his teeth snag along your jaw once more.
“I might break you,” Marko uttered, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear as his hand snuck in between your legs. You shivered, unable to bite back the throaty whimper that left you. “Just a little bit.”
#slasher x reader#slasher x you#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys x you#marko tlb x reader#marko tlb x you#tlb marko#tlb marko x reader#the lost boys#the lost boys fanfiction#slasher fanfiction#slasher fanfic#slasher fandom#slasher x y/n
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Space Corp. Directive #1215225
For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you’d be damned if you ever admitted it.
Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader
Warnings: smut
Chapter One: Dreams
//
The night was black and cold. Nothing new there. But for some reason, your bed felt different. Warmer. Less empty than usual.
Then hands slipped between your thighs and spread them. But you weren’t afraid. Somehow, you knew who was touching you, even if for some reason, you couldn’t really register it right now.
The hands pressed down until the sides of your legs were almost touching the mattress, then you felt whoever it was press their mouth to your soft skin, and kiss their way across the insides of your thighs like they’d been there before and knew the place like the back of their hand. That was to say, they knew exactly where to kiss, where to drag their tongue, where to nip with their teeth.
Soon you were moaning softly, your hands bunching up the covers as they drifted lower and lower until finally, they reached exactly where you needed them.
A deep moan rolled through you, echoed by whoever was between your thighs. That’s when it hit you, like a hammer striking a bell. That voice, it was so familiar it made your skin come up in goosebumps. Then they looked up, meeting your gaze with a devilish yet lopsided smile. Rimmer. It was Rimmer.
His lips were shining in the low light; you were dripping down his chin, down the column of his neck to his bare chest. He looked half-drunk with pleasure as he shot you a grin, then Rimmer bent his head and dragged his tongue over you, moaning your own name against you.
You woke so abruptly, you weren’t sure where you were for a moment. You sat up, adrenaline flooding through you, and promptly smacked your head against the empty bunk above you.
Heart pounding in your chest, you stared at the blank grey wall beside you as you rubbed your head and filled your lungs with the cold, recycled air.
It took you several moments to remember what it was that had awoken you so suddenly, then flashes of your dream whooshed through your mind, the sight of Rimmer with his face buried between your thighs, his moans rolling through you, his long fingers pressing into your skin as he ate you out like he needed it to survive.
You shook your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you pushed the thought away. You’d had many lows in your life, being stuck aboard a rust bucket in deep space with four sort-of men being one of them, but this was a new depth.
“What the fuck.”
/
Later that day, you somehow found yourself helping Kryten clean the corridors of C Deck. It wasn’t like you had a lot else to do, and the mechanoid was amusing in his own way.
You sat on top of his cleaning trolley, passing him anything he needed, a mop, a duster, or a sharp-smelling acidic cream he used often. The only thing that could lift the stains left by Mr. Lister’ he’d said.
“Kryten?” you asked, although you hated yourself for even entertaining your own stupid curiosity. “Do you know much about dreams?”
Kryten’s head twitched about on his neck, the way it always did when he was thinking.
“Human dreams? Not really, ma’am. Why do you ask?”
You shrugged.
“Oh, just curious.”
“Well, I know that dreams happen when someone is in a state of deep sleep, and many cultures have tried to determine why indeed lifeforms need to do it. Some say it’s simply the brain’s way of filtering and filing away all it has processed that day. But as dreams are often highly emotive, some argue it’s the mind’s way of expressing one’s unconscious desires and wishes.”
Desires and wishes. You pulled a face. You didn’t wish for Rimmer to do anything, and you certainly didn’t desire anything about him. He was a twat, a hologram, a cowardly idiot who you happened to get on with sometimes.
“So either they mean nothing or… Everything,” you summarised.
“Precisely, ma’am.” Kryten made what could be interpreted as an apologetic expression. “I did say I knew very little about it.”
Hoping the mechanoid wouldn’t notice your embarrassment, you asked,
“Do you know if it means anything if you dream about a specific person?”
“It probably means you’ve been thinking about them a lot. They have entered your subconscious.”
You huffed.
“That can’t be right.”
“Why, madam? Who did you dream about?”
“I didn’t say I did!”
“Forgive me, you just seemed to have someone in mind.”
You eyed Kryten warily.
“Can mechanoids keep secrets?”
“We can try. I am programmed to take care of you, ma’am. I suppose that falls under the umbrella.”
“Rimmer.”
“What about him?”
“That’s who I dreamt about.”
“Oh.”
The corridor was suddenly very quiet.
You almost laughed. You’d never seen an android look shocked almost to the point of disappointment before.
“Problem?”
“My apologies.” Kryten did his version of a laugh. “Get to you, did he? He rattles on about so much useless flim-flam, I’m surprised I don’t dream about him too.”
“It wasn’t like that. It was… A good dream.”
“A good dream about Mr. Rimmer, ma’am?”
Cheeks burning, you closed your eyes before admitting,
“It was kind of a sexy dream.”
If Kryten could blush, you were sure he’d be red as a tomato. You still hadn’t opened your eyes so it could be a possibility. Stranger things had happened on Red Dwarf. Like you having a sex dream about the idiot second technician who irritated you at least seven times a day.
“Oh, my.” Kryten was so shocked, he stopped dusting. “About Mr. Rimmer?”
“Yes! Is that so hard to believe?”
“Humans are fascinating. Well, I suppose you do spend a lot of time together.”
“I spend a lot of time with all of you. There’s not a lot of places to go.”
“You’re right, ma’am. I just meant, if Mr. Rimmer needs help with something, it’s usually you he asks. If you’re bored and want to play some kind of game or planet hop, it’s usually Mr. Rimmer you ask to go with you.”
You pulled a face. You supposed that was true. It was complicated. As much as he annoyed you and tried to boss you around, Rimmer was always your first choice and he was yours. Something neither of you were at all used to.
“You promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“I cross my metal heart.”
That made you smile. Sometimes, these men you called friends really were sweet. Well, perhaps ‘sweet’ was a strong word. As was ‘men.’
“What do you think it means, Kryten?”
“Probably nothing, ma’am. I wouldn’t worry about it. From what I know about the human subconscious, you have no control over your dreams and so have absolutely no reason to feel embarrassed or disgusted or like you need to poke out your own eyeballs.”
You shot the mechanoid a dark look but he was too busy setting up the hoover to notice.
“You said you don’t know very much about human dreams. Do mechs dream?”
“Those with an imagination do.”
“What do you dream about, Kryten?”
“Dusting, mostly.”
/
The door to your quarters slid open without your say so. You were about to rage at Holly, what on earth was she doing letting people in without asking permission? But then the very person you’d been avoiding all week strode into your room and your indignation sank to an awkward shyness.
Rimmer crossed his arms over his chest, his face stern and obstinate.
“Come on, then. Out with it.”
You lowered the book you’d been pretending to read for the last hour.
“What’s that?”
“You’ve been avoiding me for three days now. I must’ve done something wrong in your eyes, so just tell me so I can pretend to feel sorry and we can go back to normal.”
“You’re a real charmer, Arnie. You know that?”
Even the name. It pinged up like a neon sign in your head. No one else called him that. You didn't even call him that when anyone else was around. In fact, you were pretty sure Rimmer would kick up a fuss if you did.
But on the rare occasion it was just the two of you, you called him Arnie and he let you, and he, in turn, seemed more relaxed and, shockingly, almost happy. You didn’t tease him relentlessly like the others did, so the bar was very low, but you had a sneaking suspicion Rimmer actually really liked you.
Rimmer sighed so deeply, it seemed to knock all the strength from his hologrammatic body.
“Come on, I’m bored,” he whined, flopping into one of the chairs around the table in the centre of your quarters.
You just sighed and hid your face behind your book again.
“I’m not avoiding you, Arn. I just needed some time on my own.”
“To do what?”
“I don’t know! Read! Paint! Build a scale model of the Taj Mahal out of coffee stirrers! Anything to get away from all the bloody testosterone in this place for a while.”
It got so quiet in the room, the only sign that he hadn’t given in and swanned off to bother someone else was that the door hadn't swished open and closed.
You glanced up. Rimmer was still looking at you. You sighed and almost told him to get lost but then he said,
“Is this something to do with that dream you had?”
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, you just stared, wide-eyed and panicked. The book fell from your hands and you scrambled to catch it.
“What dream?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound half as squeaky as you thought you did.
Rimmer shrugged.
“The one with me in it. Because if I said something horrible, it was probably well-deserved.”
“Who said anything about a dream?”
“Lister did.”
“Lister?”
“He said Cat told him you’d dreamt about me and it seemed to really bother you.”
“Right, hang on,” You held up your hands, trying to make sense of the hellish situation you’d suddenly been dropped into. “How does The Cat know?”
“Kryten told him.”
You blinked, so shocked you could barely think. That souped-up fucking bog brush.
“Come on, tell me. What did I do that was so bad?”
“Nothing! You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me!”
“I haven’t!”
“But Lister-”
“Is probably bored too and winding you up, Arnie. Think about it for a second.”
“But you did dream about me.”
“No!” It came out a lot louder than you anticipated but you were just so flustered and embarrassed, you couldn’t help it. “There was no bloody dream. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything at all. There was no dream.”
Strangely, Rimmer seemed disappointed.
“Oh,” he said, an odd sort of look in his eyes. “Well, alright then.” Then he smiled, already standing up to go. “Let’s play chess. See you in five?”
You scoffed. You were in serious danger of getting whiplash from this ridiculous interaction.
“Arnold, you’re shit at chess. You don’t even know how to play.”
“Then you can try teaching me again. Please.”
He pressed his palms together, his eyebrows knitting together imploringly.
To your own utter disbelief, you found yourself giving in with ease. Maybe you liked him more than you realised. How embarrassing.
“Fine. Make it ten minutes.”
Rimmer grinned and sprang from his chair with sudden vigour.
“Thank you!”
He left you to it, probably to go set up the chessboard in the mess.
You watched him go, trying not to let your gaze linger on his figure as he walked away. He was pretty handsome, you supposed. For a beam of projected light, that is.
“Arn?”
“Hm?”
He turned around in the doorframe. He was smiling.
It was such a rare thing to see Rimmer smiling simply because he was happy. It wasn’t a sardonic, sarcastic, or even schadenfreude smile. He was just pleased that you’d agreed to spend time with him, simple as that.
“What else did Lister say?” you asked, though you hardly dared to know.
Rimmer’s mouth twisted in thought, then he shrugged.
“Just that I should ask you what the dream was about and whether it meant he didn’t have to share a bunk with me anymore?”
It took everything in you not to drop your book, run out of the room, find Lister and tell him exactly what you thought of that joke.
“He’s pulling your H. Go on, I’ll see you in a bit.”
After he left, you threw your book against the wall of your bunk. Not too hard, books were rare on Red Dwarf and sometimes, all that kept you sane.
“Fucking mech,” you muttered. “Fucking men.”
/
With Kryten cooking in the mess, The Cat sprawled out and snoring on the settee, and Lister nowhere to be seen, it was as close to a perfect evening as you could get on the ship to nowhere.
You were comfy, wrapped up in blankets to fend off the cold, and winning at chess. You were as happy as you could be, considering your circumstances.
Across the table from you, Rimmer was scowling at the chessboard. Though he claimed to be something of a strategist, the game always got the better of him. You weren’t sure why he kept insisting you play.
He finally pointed at the piece he wanted you to move for him.
You smiled.
“That’s an illegal move, Arn.”
With a huff, he tried to pick up the piece and plunk it somewhere else. He was such a sore loser, it actually made him forget for a moment that he couldn’t touch anything.
“This is a pointless game.”
“You wanted to play.”
“No, I didn’t. I just know you like it.”
You raised your eyebrows.
“That’s why you picked chess?”
“Stupid idea.”
Rimmer, too distracted by the game, didn’t seem to notice he’d made you smile. Uncertain of the warm feeling growing in your chest, you just tried to ignore it and focus on the game.
/
That night, you dreamt of him again. This time, you knew it was him right away.
It was the same story, Rimmer’s big hands parting your thighs, his lips pressing soft kisses to you skin as he grew closer and closer to where you ached for him, then the wonderful, overwhelming warmth of his tongue.
You let your head fall back against the pillow, trying to spread your legs further apart so that Rimmer could press his tongue deeper into you. He was moaning against you, whining and whimpering your name as his hips ground against the mattress, searching of any kind of friction.
It happened just the same as before. He pulled away to meet your gaze with a dizzy grin. His lips glistened, his eyes dark and unfocused.
A tiny part of you, the tiny part that still had a voice when your body had succumbed to dreaming, suddenly sparked.
He wanted to play chess with you because it was your favourite, even though he hated it. He wanted to spend time with you and whined like a little kid when you refused. He liked you, he liked you so much. And he felt so fucking good.
You slipped your fingers through Rimmer’s thick, curly hair and pushed his head back down between your thighs. The moan you got in response was so low and virile, it made your hips jump.
His fingers pressed into your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide as he drank in every bit of you with his teeth, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect lips.
This time when you woke, your hand was down the front of your underwear before you could even open your eyes. You came moaning Rimmer’s name, his real name, and prayed no one on Red Dwarf had heard you.
//
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Master List
#red dwarf#red dwarf fic#red dwarf imagine#arnold rimmer#arnold rimmer x reader#arnold rimmer reader#arnold rimmer x you#arnold rimmer you#arnold rimmer imagine#arnold rimmer smut#smut#rimmer#red dwarf smut#my post
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A La Folie ft. Jay
Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.
Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, no smut (yet hehe), mentions of blood, violence, domestic abuse, mentions of cheating, mistresses (don't read it if you can't handle it), mentions of food, Jay has a REALLY tragic past sorry bout that, reader is an orphan, also this is really dramatic IM SORRY I CANT NOT WRITE DRAMA, open ending oohh
A/N: EYYY MR JAY PARK WOOHOO Ngl I was so excited to write this but the exams and all made this kinda difficult to write so if anyone has been waiting for this I'm sorry for the extremely long wait. Also yes this wil be in three parts yay. @yunabi436 this is for you baby 😽
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
The French Quotes Series Masterlist
"And from Aphrodite's rotten lovesick blood did the white flowers turn into a darker shade of red, eternally forming the flower of love."
Aphrodite and the hunter Adonis' tale had been one of boars, blood, lust and love.
For the young king of the iron-kingdom of Vadronia (rightly given its moniker), the only thing he cared about in all of those four things were the boars and the blood.
Jay Park's kingdom wasn't the strongest in all of Paradoxica just in a penny's wish and a flick of a tail feather. It was quote unquote 'molten from iron itself' as all its rulers were.
From all of his brothers, Jay was probably the one who took his duties as a warrior seriously.
Well, a bit too seriously, according to the said brothers.
"Jay would you please stop running so fast?" Sunghoon panted, putting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily as beads of sweat dripped from his hair and skin.
The mud track was always the hardest one to trench upon, and with Jay on your trail? It was hell. Atleast that's what Jake and Sunghoon described it as.
"Are you going to be saying that when you're running from enemy horses?" Jay turned back and glared at Sunghoon, the light autumn breeze giving him peace as it whipped his hair around.
"For God's sake Jay, no one is going to invade us now." Heeseung walked into the scene, with much less sweatier clothes and an arrow clutched in his hand, indicating he had come back from his target practice, "Give the poor guys a break."
"Yes please give us a break I'll go down on my knees." Jake was close to collapsing on the floor, his hand desperately clutching onto the nearby flag pole for support.
"You'd go down on your knees for your best friend." Jay scoffed, throwing his head back to shake the sweat out of his hair follicles, because as glorious as they were, the stray strands still annoyed him, "And you." He turned towards Heeseung, who, even though was much taller than Jay, now looked like a dwarf in front of Jay's broad figure, "How many times do I have to remind you to come for practice?"
"It's not my fault." Heeseung jut out his bottom lip, he always loved acting cute in front of Jay even if he was older, "Little princess back at home has been spying on me. And not gonna lie, I am extremely aroused."
"Why did I even ask?" Jay rolled his eyes and stretched out his arms, the bright burning sun reflecting in his eyes like the moonshine he loved so much, which he drank by the fireplace as he penned down poetry he could show to no one.
"So Jayyyy" Sunghoon dragged his words out, "Felt any sparks lately?"
"Ask that question again and you'll be running twenty laps round this track." Jay promptly replied, cleaning his face with the lavender-smelling towel the nearby servant handed to him. He always loved the lavender scented things, it reminded him of the springs with his mother, oh how she would tease him with tiny flowers in his hair, and the clink of her ruby created dagger in her belt. The dagger lay soulless now, sitting in a secretive place in Jay's room, as he stared at it and remembered that moment again and again. His bastard father, no matter how many times Jay had cursed him, he still couldn't get it out of his mind.
His mother, his compassionate, kind mother, didn't deserve to bleed out from his father's turn of blade.
And no matter how many potions he took, the smell of the blood filled ballroom still lingered in his nose at night, when he would jolt awake in cold sweat, wanting to cling onto his mother, but then he'd remember that he wasn't eight anymore, she was gone.
"Jay you're my brother and I really respect you a lot." Heeseung started, sitting Jay down on the oak bench, while Jake and Sunghoon quietly sneaked out, running for their lives back to their horses, "But you've got to find someone to love in your life, you've got to get over your fear."
"Weren't you the one who was complaining about love to Jake and I a few days ago?" Jay raised a magnificently trimmed brow, to which Heeseung chuckled.
"Yep but then I fell into that rabbit hole and I seem to like it, a bit too much perhaps." Heeseung stared into the distance, instantly losing his dramatic moment as the setting sun hit his pupils.
"Yeah, someday when I'm older maybe." Jay fiddled with his fingers, he never could keep them still, "But for now, I wanted to ask if you'd want to come with me on a hunt tomorrow?"
"A hunt?" Heeseung quizzed, lifting himself with much difficulty off of the bench, bow in hand, "You haven't invited me to a hunt in ages."
"Necessity is the mother of invention." Jay got up as well, scented towel still in hand, "And in this case it's that wild boar our men have been hunting since last month, been terrorizing the border between Tarnow and Vadronia now. I'm surprised you haven't noticed yet."
"Consider me blinded by love." Heeseung threw a flirtatious wink at Jay, who visibly gagged, "I'll be there."
"I'll be waiting."
"No no no, Jay, we, under no circumstances, apply essence of Hibiscus to a water snake's venom." A lady with greying hair sighed, bending over a wooden cup, while a sturdy, black haired man gulped heavily and stared nervously at the herbs in his hand.
Jay was never very successful in his healing classes, and under the strict gaze of his teacher, old Mrs.Chun, he was far away from catching the train of success.
"I don't get it." Jay frowned like a child, setting the hibiscus flower down on the table filled with healing equipments of all kind, "Wasn't the essence of Hibiscus supposed to combat this snake's venom?"
The old lady sighed again and rolled her eyes, snatching the hibiscus from the table and setting it into a basket full of the bright red flowers. With her other hand, she picked up a wicker work basket of lavender and lifted it up to Jay.
"Lavender. I said lavender remember?" She smiled up at Jay like an encouraging teacher, "Lavender for the wounds which make a man turn purple, and hibiscus for the blood drops."
Jay mumbled the rule under his mouth before pressing the lavender petals to the venom splanched across the bown om front of him. The purplish colour immediately turned a healing shade of dark yellow, satisfying Jay and letting out a sigh of relief from the old lady.
"Just some more practice and patience and you'll be a good healer in no time." Mrs. Chun patted Jay's arm sympathetically.
"But why do I even need to be a healer?" Jay asked curiously, putting the box of potions up on the shelf where they belonged, "I'm already a warrior."
"Every great warrior needs to know how to tend to his own wounds." The old lady smiled, looking curiously at a green flask, "I made a vow to your mother to never let you fail in this subject."
Jay smiled fondly at the thought of his mother spending her hours in the infirmary along with Mrs. Chun. Mrs. Chun herself was like his mother figure, providing him the hugs his 14 year old self needed so bad years ago.
"And remember Jay!" Mrs. Chun called out just as Jay was about to leave the room, "I won't be here for the entirety of next month."
"But then who's going to look after the infirmary?" Jay turned back and raised a quizzical brow at Mrs.Chun, who smiled gently.
"My apprentice will." She promptly replied, "She's a nice girl, I told her all about your predicament of failing at healing." Jay let out a chuckle at Mrs.Chun's joke, "She'll take your classes alright?"
"Don't miss me too much Mrs.Chun!" Jay laughed, "I'm your favourite remember?"
Mrs.Chun laughed heartily to herself. Oh that boy, she thought, still a bit at heart even if he was a man to the world.
Only a bit of love perhaps, can truly lead him to show this side of him to the world.
Jay sighed heavily as he plopped down on his armchair, the most comfortable one by the fire.
Love, he scoffed, what a stupid, dangerous thing.
He believed his father to love his mother, he believed his mother to love his father even as he went out every night to quote unquote 'find himself'. Mistresses were awful buisness, and no Queen had ever objected her king having one. But of course, his mother had to object, she had to be different. She had to storm in to her husband and his lover and confront them. And his father, fire-filled man he was, had to strike a blade through her belly, making her bleed out in 14 year old Jay's arms.
And of course, Jay, blinded by his rage, had to strike his father back, skilled as his father was, Jay was more fleet footed, and in the blink of an eye, his father and his father's new toy were lying in cold blood on the floor, as Jay sobbed, clutching his mother's body, dead as a fish out of the ocean.
And his brothers had noticed, they had always noticed how Jay was never the same from that day. From the happy boy who loved to write stories and poetry and who hated to even step foot in the training yard, Jay became the mercenary king, ready with his sword clutched in hand, and his poems long forgotten to silence and withering darkness.
But it wasn't to say that Jay was a ruthless ruler, he chose not to take that path, especially not after half the kingdom starved under the rule of his father. It wouldn't have been a lie to say he was the kindest one in all of Paradoxica, except he didn't really show it in the way he spoke or acted, but by the way he controlled the administration and whatnot of the kingdom. This kept his busy, seldom leaving time for any other activities, much to the disappointment of his brothers, especially Heeseung, who had always been the closest to him, who had known what he was truly like, deep inside.
Clutching his eagle feather quill, one of his most dearest ones, Jay dipped the tip into his ink pot, letting the excess ink dry off before pressing it to his leather bound diary.
When he wrote the feelings he couldn't ever say out loud onto the softwood paper, Jay felt a sort of contentment, he had always been a clandestine philophile, so to write his proses on the idea of love, death and misery, was to create a beautiful choreography on his mindset.
Alas, if there was only someone he could show them to, someone who would understand what Jay meant in the lines, even with his messy loopy calligraphy, that would have been a dream truly come true.
But how could a man who wrote poems to challenge the angels of love themselves, ever find love?
But I am a mere narrator, what would I know?
And sometimes, just sometimes, Cupid lurked in the ballrooms of dancing princes and in the dark inkpots of oxymoronic kings.
"I have no idea what's happening, but I'm happy to be here." Sunghoon's beautiful Clydesdale horse pranced around on the grass, as energetic and as similar a persona as her owner.
"Would you tell her to calm down?" Heeseung's own chestnut's hooves guided him towards Sunghoon, "She needs the energy for the hunt." Heeseung easily managed to calm the mare down by scratching behind her eyes, to which Sunghoon drooped since he had been enjoying the prancing around a bit too much.
"Why are we going on a hunt again?" Jake adjusted his saddle, making sure he was buckled in properly to his Fox Trotter horse, "Aren't we above killing animals now?"
"Your best friend tell you that?" The clip clopping of Jay's magnificent Dutch Warmblood sent all of the soldiers to silence, "And if the animal is a wild boar, no we aren't above that."
"Whatever you say, oh great King." Sunghoon snickered, as he did a sort of bow on his horse, making everyone laugh.
"Oh shut up." Jay rolled his eyes, clutching onto his horse's hair, and leaning into his usual stance, "Come on now, don't want to keep a beauty waiting do we?" And with the mighty neigh of his horse, he rode off into the forest, followed by Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon, who followed with dramatic sighs.
"Sometimes I wonder if he just wants to live in an adventure book and say cringey lines all the time." Sunghoon jested, making the others laugh.
"Where on earth is Sunoo?" Jay shouted out, completely ignoring the statement made about him, as the rest of the three managed to catch up to his horse's pace.
"Probably tending to his vineyard." The wind whipped Jake's hair around, "God knows if he'd ever accept coming to a hunt with us."
"Maybe a grape hunt-"
"Shh!"
Jay's action of stopping his horse, and shushing everyone startled the others, and as the clopping of hooves quietened down, they understood why Jay had stopped so abruptly.
The rustling of the nearby begonia bushes, combined with the noises of an animal which sounded extremely similar to a wild boar, alerted them, as they drew out their swords, daggers and metal tipped arrows, all from treasure chest of Vadronia's amazing metalwork, aiming them at the begonia bushes, as Jay held up his closed fist to give the command.
"Come on out." Jay whispered to no one in particular but himself, as the begonia bushes began shaking more rapidly and the sounds of an animal's footsteps came nearer.
"Hey maybe we should-" Heeseung bagan quietly to Jay, but was interrupted by the ripping of the begonias into shreds.
And there it was, what Jay had been waiting for.
A big wild boar in its full magnificence.
Ivory tusks in full gleam, swathes of brown fur all over its damaged skin, with wounds from previous hints. A ture display of its strength, Jay thought, it wanted to intimidate them, as if to say 'see how many people haven't defeated me yet, why do you think you stand a chance?'.
"Steady now, Lady." Jay patted his horse, which was ever so graciously named Lady, although the mare's personality in battle was far away from a lady's. Jay always preferred mares to horses, he though they were more faster and agile, while horses used their brute strength. And he had a hatred from brute strength. It was what got her killed after all.....
"Jake look out!" Heeseung cried out, snapping Jay out of his daze of staring into the boar's eyes. Of all the animals of the world, he hated this one the most, he hated the way his father loved to hunt them, and how he'd come home from hunts everyday drenched in blood with a boar skull im his hands, from which his mother would recoil from, what with her hatred of the smell of iron.
Hatred, that's all that was there in Jay's life. And that's all there will be.
"Jay, we have to get back come on!" Sunghoon cried, his horse already galloping away. The boar was far too big for them to contain. "Jay?" Heeseung peered back, "Jay no!"
But the sturdy built man's ears heeded no warning as he stepped along to the boar, his sword clutched tightly in hand, the carving of his name in the metal shining bright, as if to warn the spirit of the forest that he has arrived.
"Hyung what's happe-" Jake and Sunghoon's horses had turned back to see why the eldest wasn't coming, only to see Jay stabbing at the boar, while Heeseung tried to get Lady, who was close to prancing away into the depths of the forest.
"Help me would ya!" Heeseung cried, flinging his rope around Lady's magnificent neck, to which Sunghoon and Jake came quick and flung their own ropes, "One of you help Jay!"
"I'll go!" Sunghoon's horse galloped towards Jay, but to his shock, he saw that the boar was already lying, its movements still, and Jay standing drenched in blood.
It was dead.
Jay's sword was decorated with ribbons of maroon.
"Jay what the..." Sunghoon began, but he could find no words. The boar had been big, two times the size and strength of any ordinary man, and now it was kneeling at Jay's command, kneeling dead and cold as a fish.
"It's dead." Jay growled, his breathing too heavy, and his hand clutching a particularly dark spot on his stomach, as Heeseung and Jake came to the scene, having calmed Lady down, "The tusk...."
"The tusk? What about the- Jay!" Heeseung cried, before jumping off his horse and quickly moving towards Jay's graceful falling figure.
The last thing Jay felt was the feeling of wet grass underneath his head, Heeseung's hand over his wrist, and the familiar scent of feminine lavender pressing over him before everything went dark as he had always wished for it to be.
Jay never cared much about his injuries. No matter how big or small they were, no matter if it was a paper cut to the thumb or an arrow head to the shoulder, he would simply say "Injuries happen, it's a part of life" and move on. Which proved to be a source of annoyance for his brothers, especially Jake, who had an eye for healing.
But Jay was a firm believer in the notion that twenty four hours a day simply wasn't enough. He wanted more, he craved for more, more time, more work. Although he wouldn't admit it, everyone was in unison with the fact that he was Paradoxica's biggest workaholic.
And when it came back to the topic of injuries, Jay would still keep working, whether or not he was stuck in bed, because Heeseung had forced him to stay there.
Heeseung remembered Jay's younger days. How Jay would whine and do nothing if he got even the tiniest splinter in his finger. How he would beg for a day off from studies if he merely stubbed his tie against the kitchen ladder while sneaking out to steal pastries. But the horrible incident had changed every aspect of Jay, and now, he wouldn't stop working if every limb in his body was broken.
"All for the good of the people" he reasoned.
Usually Mrs.Chun had taken care of him, scolded him too many times about taking rests whenever he'd come back from battles or fights with blood flowing out his nose. But even then he didn't care. So the vision of waking up to Mrs.Chun's berry scent was a norm for him whenever he'd get injured.
But now, the room wasn't berry scented, and nor was Mrs. Chun sitting in the corner, waiting for him to wake up.
A girl?
A girl, wearing Mrs.Chun's apron, had her head rested against his table, her eyes fluttered close.
Were his eyes tricking him or did Mrs.Chun suddenly become thirty years younger?
Feeling something heavy on his waist, Jay tried to lift his head from his pillow, letting out a guttural groan as he did. God what was hurting him so much? He could feel something hurting at his stomach.
"Your Majesty, lie back down." He heard someone say, and as he opened his eyes, he saw the girl bending over him, forcing him to lie back down on the bed.
Jay stared at her for a few moments, trying to remember who she is before the candle went off in his mind.
The apprentice.
You were Mrs.Chun's apprentice.
"Are you Mrs.Chun's apprentice?" Jay groaned, feeling his head throb and his fingers were aching too.
You nodded promptly, before pushing Jay gently back onto the bed as he tried to get back.
"I'm sorry to inform you, Your Majesty, but you aren't getting up for another two weeks. You were stabbed by a wild boar's tusk." You stated firmly, shocking Jay at how casually you had addressed him, "His Highness Heeseung told me to handcuff you to the bed if you even try to move."
"Handcuff me?" Jay chuckled, moving his body slightly to lessen the pressure on his legs, "Where are you even going to get-"
Jay's sentence was cut off abruptly as your hands pulled out a pair of heavy metal from a secret pocket in the olive green dress you were wearing, and held it in front of Jay, effectively silencing him.
"I'm sorry if that was rude, but you are my patient, Your Majesty.." Your mouth let out a chuckle, sending a weird sensation into Jay's stomach, which he had never felt before, "So, I will do anything and everything in order to make you rest."
"So what may I address you by, My lady?" Jay quizzed you, his head now no longer throbbing for some reason. He studied your features for a while, he thought your eyes were pretty, decorated by a thin lining of kohl. Your figure was pretty too, wrapped in the striking colour of the dress you were in, combined with the beautifully familiar way you wore your hair.
"Definetly not by 'My lady'." You chuckled, picking up your dress, and sinking into a curtsy, "Y/N, you may call me Y/N, Your Majesty."
"Pretty name." Jay complemented, watching you stand up straight from your curtsy and smile impishly at him.
"You've got to take your medicine now." You reached into your apron's pocket and pulled a big vial, which was filled with a bubbling, golden liquid, "Now, according to Mrs.Chun, tricks by pretty people often work on you."
"Pretty people?" Jay scoffed childishly, thinking about whether or not he thought Heeseung was pretty, as you measured out the liquid into a cup, "Mrs.Chun needs to have a check for up there. And do you really think you're pretty?"
You strode towards him with the cup in your hand, and smiled widely. "Well, pardon me Your Majesty, but from the way you were staring at me five minutes ago, yes. I do think I'm pretty."
"Don't get your ego up." Jay warned, taking the cup from you, letting his mind linger for a few minutes on how your delicate fingers brushed his scarred ones softly, "Your parents mus'nt have taught you manners did they?"
"Well, firstly, I don't have parents." You smiled, "And secondly I need to check your bandages, they seem to be bleeding again."
So that was what the pain radiating from his stomach was, Jay thought, as he looked down to see his bandages streaked a darker shade of red. He quickly gulped down the golden liquid in the cup, a visibly disgusted expression forming on his face at how bitter it was, and looked up at you, with widened eyes.
"So...?" He said, expectantly, seeing you fumble with some clean cloth, another vial of what looked like cream, and a safety pin.
"Tell me where it hurts when I change them alright?" You said gently, making his lay down on the bed again, "and uh..."
"What?" Jay questioned, seeing your eyes linger at his wound or more specifically, his ab muscles, "Oh you can touch them it's fine."
"Oh. Oh yeah alright." You said, feeling your face heat up slightly. Bandaging him when he was still unconscious was easier than this, when he was awake. God his stare was so attractive to you, even now, as you gently touched his bandages, replacing them with cleaner cloth, you tried hard not to brush your fingers against his abs.
"Enjoying the view?" Jay asked, a cockish sneer to his voice. "There's a view to enjoy Your Majesty?" You fired back, although you most certainly were enjoying staring at him.
"You're an interesting one." Jay said, trying to make small talk as you lightly pressed against the smaller wounds with the cream, "Y/N wasn't it?"
"Yep." You said with a pop of your lips, finishing wrapping his wounds with a slight tap to check if they were secure, "And please do stay in bed and don't work. If you need anything, I'm right outside. His highness Heeseung has told me to rest in the chambers opposite yours."
The chambers opposite to his, his parents' chambers. God did Jay hate that room, all big and filled with skulls from hunts.
"If you want to you can go home, I can manage on myself." Jay said, his eyes set on yours. Why was it so hard to maintain eye contact with you?
"I know how that idea works." You smiled again, bringing that weird sensation back into Jay's stomach, "I'll go and then you'll order someone to bring you your work, so His Highness Heeseung specifically asked me not to leave. I guess you're stuck with me Your Majesty." You curtsied to finish off the impression.
"Jay." He spoke again, to your confusion, which made him stifle a chuckle, "Please, call me Jay."
"Jay." You smiled to yourself, "Well, ring that bell if you need anything."
As you left the room, quietly shutting the door behind you, Jay had the sudden urge to kick his feet in the air. The room was filled with lavender scent, your lavender scent to be specific, and it gave Jay a sense of calm, which in turn reduced the pain radiating from his stab wound.
Well this would be an interesting two weeks.
"Your Majesty what on Earth are you doing?"
Jay froze in his position at hearing a stern voice. Your stern voice, to be precise.
"Resting?" He said, trying to hide his cheeky smile, as he slowly backed away from his table. Rolling your eyes, you quickly got him back to the bed, worried that his bandages will open back again. But the only thing Jay was worried about was that his work wasn't getting completed.
"How about this?" You asked, as you finally managed to wrestle him back to the bed, "I'll do the work for you, if you agree to rest. It's in that diary right?"
"I can't let you do that." Jay grumbled, reaching for your arm, as you hurried to get to the diary on his table. The cold touch of his hand on your warmer skin made you flinch heavily, which in turn made Jay pull his hand away.
"I'm sorry." Jay quickly apologised, as you rubbed your arm, "I- That's my private diary, I don't really allow people to see it."
"Oh, my apologies then." You curtsied, still rubbing your arm, feeling extremely cold for some reason, even if the warm daylight was coming into the room through the window, "Your Majesty-"
"Jay." He corrected, shooting you the tiniest fragment of a smile.
"Jay." You said again, this time feeling more at ease, "You've got to rest, I'm begging you. Those bandages won't magically heal you until you rest. If there's anything I can do to get you to rest, I'll do it."
Jay's ears weren't actually listening to anything. His mind was too distracted again, by your scent. God damn his strong sense of smell, but you smelled like memories he wanted to forget.
"Tell me what perfume you use and then I won't work." Jay looked up at you with a cheeky smile. He didn't know why, but he felt comfortable to show you his smile, which he didn't often feel with the ladies in their paraffin socks.
"I- that's a peculiar question." You said, not knowing what to feel aboutthe actual King asking you about your perfume.
"I swear on my own grave that I will rest if the great healer Y/N tells me her perfume." Jay recited, keeping his hand on his chest for dramatic effect.
"It's the lavender one we get in the town square from Marcella's." You raised your chin up high, "Now would you rest?"
"Hmmm let me think." Jay dramatically sighed, "No."
"Your Majesty, I will beg." You breathed desperately, "I will seriously-"
"Your collarbone." Jay interrupted, his attention diverting from your eyes to your shoulder, "There's something on your collarbone."
Jay took note of the way your eyes flickered quickly and worriedly to your collarbone, and how you rushed to pull the sleeve of your dress up to cover it, clearing your throat afterwards to clear the awkward air.
"Are you-"
"Your Majesty, I admire the way you hold so much strivance for your work but you really must rest if you wish to keep working for the rest of your life."
The atmosphere of the room had a drastic change, Jay could feel it, as you quickly curtsied, said a quick "excuse me" and hurried off towards the exit.
That wasn't a stain or a birth mark on your shoulder Jay knew it, as he leant back comfortably, and decided to follow your advice for a while.
He'd seen dark marks like that on someone he once knew and loved.
And something in him asked him not to rest (unless it was pretending for you) until he figured out where that bruise the size of a man's hand, came from.
Part 2 coming soon....
Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @yunabi436
#jay park fic#park jay#park jay smut#park jongseong#enhypen jay smut#enhypen jay#enha fics#enha jay park#enhypen jay park#jay fluff#jay angst#jay smut#jay series#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#jay hard thoughts#jay hard hours#park jay hard hours#comfort enhypen#enhypen#enhypen au#enhypen romance#enhypen royal au#enha royal au#bye bye now
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In response to the NSFW request post.
How about some body worship? Astarion x fem!Tav? Maaaaybe some oral sex?
Synopsis: As a Half-Elf, Tiriel has serious body image issues, and Astarion knows exactly how to help her accept herself.
Thanks @tragedybunny for beta-reading!
Tags: smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, sex in front of a mirror, praise kink
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
See Yourself Like I See You
"Biri", an elven woman mutters, glancing at Tiriel as she passes by.
The words hurt like burning coals. Tiriel suppresses the desire to yell at the elf. Or hit her. Violence is always an answer but, probably, beating the shit out of the innkeeper's wife isn't a rational choice, considering you travel with a vampire, who needs shelter in the daylight.
"I speak Elven '' Tiriel says loud enough to attract the attention of the Tel'Quessira.
"Oh? Someone bothered to teach you? I didn't offend you, I just... told the truth. You are only half an elf".
"Biri means trash, not just half an elf."
The elf laughs, and her voice sounds like tiny bells. "You know, in the old times, we forbid our men to mate with... N'TelQuessira. And when it happened anyway, we murdered the children not to doom them to be stuck between two worlds."
Tiriel squeezes the hand of her ax. Her elven father was just a passerby, someone whom her mother found attractive enough to forget about the marriage vows and spend a night with.
The elf left the village for good, and the woman ended up pregnant with a "fairy bastard," she didn't even bother to give a name.
"What surprises me, biri, is that a High Elf chooses to sleep with you. As if he couldn't find someone more worthy to share the bed with."
With those words, the elf disappears, leaving Tiriel alone. She wishes anger and rage were her companions. But it is only a weeping wound, something she buried so deep within that she thought would never return to the surface.
Tiriel rushes upstairs to the room she rents with Astarion. The vampire is still outside somewhere, stalking the streets of the town like a shadow.
Good. She has plenty of time to return to her senses. Astarion knows her story well enough - how her family despised her, how her siblings tried to kill her but instead awoke rage in her.
But it is nothing in comparison to what he was through, and Tiriel doesn’t want to discuss it with him.
Tiriel places her ax on the floor. She trembles as if the elven woman had beaten her.
All her childhood Tiriel heard the same words. Ugly, unworthy, half a human. Beaten. Harassed. Tiriel still remembers the dirty looks of the village men who dared to see a little girl as something sexual. Her stepfather cut her right ear to suppress his desires - luckily, a village healer stitched it back.
The only hope Tiriel had was that elves were different. She begged the healer’s husband, an old dwarf, to tell her the same stories over and over again - about his old Wood Elf friend and their adventures. She was sure elves would accept her as one of theirs.
Apparently, humans are much more accepting.
Tiriel looks in the mirror. Yesterday, Astarion had a good laugh, standing in front of it. The most useless thing to place in the room with a vampire.
Half-something.
Tiriel undresses as if the fabric of her clothes burns her skin and studies herself in the mirror.
The more she looks, the more miserable she feels.
Her body is composed of two separate parts. The upper half is elven: narrow shoulders, small breasts. The lower part is the human: wide hips of a woman who is supposed to push kids out of her every year. Strong legs. Pale skin is covered in freckles. The ears - too pointy for a human, too short for an elf. Red hair is too difficult to brush. Scars.
One crosses her eye - a memory of the betrayal when her siblings pushed Tiriel down the cliff, hoping she would die. The other is on her back, a burn from the fight with the Elder Brain.
The tadpole suppressed the pain, but once the parasite was gone, Tiriel almost lost consciousness, feeling her skin burn. When she came to her senses, Astarion was nowhere to be seen, and she was afraid he’d died in the sunlight. She yelled at him when he finally showed up after sunset, resembling a beaten stray cat.
“Stop screaming at me, Tiriel. I feel like I’ve started developing a degrading kink.”
The burn on her back is probably the most disgusting part of her body. Including the body hair.
"Well, that's how I definitely want to be greeted. '' Astarion chuckles, entering the room. "But I'd prefer to undress you myself. Leave at least something for my imagination."
He wears his leather trousers and a white shirt. His old one was torn apart by a bugbear about a month ago, and Tiriel got him another one, almost identical. Though he still complains it feels off.
"Does something bother you, my love?" he asks, noticing her uneasiness.
"No... Nothing. How was your night?"
Astarion chuckles and, instead, approaches Tiriel and hugs her. In the mirror, it looks like she embraces something invisible. She melts in his arms, feeling safe and protected.
"I can tell when you lie but I will be so kind I won't insist."
"It's nothing, really." Tiriel buries her nose in his chest. Astarion is taller than average elven men and she needs to tip-toe to kiss him.
Astarion pulls away looking at Tiriel with his most adorable smile.
"Gods, you are beautiful."
His words feel like a dagger stuck in a fresh wound. Why now? Why this? Tiriel bursts into tears, not able to control them.
"Tiriel, did I... Did I do something wrong?” Astarion stares at her with utter panic in his crimson eyes.
She tries to tell him. That it's not him. But she just can't. The only word she manages to mumble is an insult.
"Biri"
The moment she says it, panic leaves Astarion’s eyes. Instead, there is anger.
"Who said it to you?"
His voice is deceptively calm. The innkeeper’s wife must consider herself lucky she didn’t insult Tiriel in the close proximity of Astarion.
"It's ok, not the first time I heard that. Maybe the first time I heard someone tell me you can find someone more worthy than I because I have dirty human blood"
"Do you want me to kill the bitch who told you that?"
"No. It's just true, Astarion. I am...damn look at me, I am all scars and freckles with two parts of my body taken from different races. I got used to it, I just hoped I would accept it. "
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And I have seen a lot."
Tiriel shakes her head, still crying.
"I am ugly as nine hells."
"Careful, darling, you are talking about my favorite person."
She chuckles but still feels miserable.
"Tiriel, my love, look at yourself."
Astarion takes Tiriel’s chin and forces her to look in the mirror.
“See yourself.” He kisses her neck. “The hair, color of fire, sometimes I think I will burn my fingers touching it. Eyes, one is green like a dry leaf. The other is gray like the autumn sky. The hands are so thin and gentle I am afraid to break your bones.” He goes down with his lips. “Breasts I can cup with my palms. Nipple so sensitive to my touches” he pinches one of them and Tiriel moans.
He stands behind Tiriel placing his chin on her shoulder. The mirror shows only the naked woman, but not the man who whispers the words of praise. Astarion places the hand over her stomach.
“Flat but soft - the best pillow for my head” his fingers go down. “The red pubic hair, even more beautiful than what you have up there…”
Tiriel feels his erection through his trousers. Gods, is it all just enough for him? Just seeing her naked?
She notices his kisses getting stronger and more intense. Astarion doesn’t breathe, but Tiriel knows his mouth is open and eyes are closed as he caresses her skin.
But the poisonous words still sound in her head.
"Do you trust me?" Astarion whispers in her ear.
Tiriel nods. She feels her own burning desire between her legs.
" I want you to look in the mirror. All the time"
"What?"
Before she manages to object, Astarion tugs her to the bed with him and makes her sit on his lap.
The mirror reflects only one person - and Tiriel looks weird as if floating. Astarion kisses her neck and then places his hands below her thighs and lifts her legs up, spreading them as wide as possible.
"What are you doing?" she gasps. It feels deliciously embarrassing.
"I want you to see yourself, in every detail.”
Tiriel’s folds are open and she can see her cunt in every detail. The invisible fingers touch her clit and Tiriel lets out a moan.
"I barely touched you and you are already so wet" Astarion murmurs, coating his fingers in her cunt juice.
Tiriel feels weird with her legs spread - she has never seen herself under such an angle. His thumb keeps drawing circles around her bud as his index finger touches her lower entrance forcing it to contract a bit.
She feels his bulge below her hips, still hidden behind the front laces of the trousers. She moves a bit causing friction and Astarion gets even harder.
“I want you” Tiriel mewls. “Please…”
“Be patient, my barbaric love…”
She growls with disappointment but lets him keep torturing her. Tiriel studies herself in the mirror but she still can’t decide if she likes what she sees or not.
Then, Astarion frees her and stands up. For a second, Tiriel is surprised he is still fully clothed.
Tiriel reaches out for his shirt to put it off him but Astarion stops her with his unbearable smile.
“I told you to be patient, Tiriel” Instead he unlaces his trousers, freeing the pale length of his cock.
“You have teased me with your fingers, and now your cock is just a few inches away from my mouth! Don’t speak about patience!”
“Your mouth…” he murmurs. “Yes, it will work.”
He grabs her head forcing her lips to kiss the head of his manhood.
“Don't look at me, look in the mirror!”
Tiriel takes Astarion in her hands and touches the base of his shaft with her tongue. Then she licks it, tracing the blue vein up to the head, forcing the vampire to moan.
She turns her head a bit to see the reflection. Her face is burning red, and drool drips off her mouth. Her tongue licks something invisible.
“You look ravishing from up here, Tiriel. Take me with these pretty lips of yours.”
Tiriel opens her mouth a bit and in a second his whole length thrusts into her. She almost gags and tears flush down her cheeks.
The burning between the legs is unbearable and Tiriel starts touching herself as Astarion buckes his hips, fucking her mouth and throat.
“You take me so good, Tiriel. Your eyes are specifically lovely when you are aroused.”
Then suddenly when she feels like he is going to ruin her mouth he lets her go and Tiriel gasps for air. A thin string of precum and saliva still connects them.
Astarion kisses Tiriel’s lips, tasting himself on her and then finally gets rid of his shirt and trousers. Then, he sits back on the bed. His cock looks painfully hard. By this time, Tiriel can’t think about anything but the emptiness inside her.
“You look the same when you fight. I wonder if this is because battles make you horny? Or because you see sex as a form of combat? Tell me, what do you want?”
She breathes heavily, still staring at the mirror, not at Astarion. Her body is covered in sweat. Nipples are hardened and the mouth is half-open. The woman in the reflection wants to be taken, ruined…
“I want… you…”
The vampire grabs Tiriel’s hips and pulls her toward him. Then, he lies on his back, putting his strong arms on her ribs.
“And I want you to see yourself. Put me inside you.”
Tiriel squeezes his cock adjusting it to her entrance.
“You are so beautiful, Tiriel…” Astarion murmurs from below. “So desirable… Whoever told you the opposite is a brainless moron…”
The invisible cock stretches her pussy. Astarion’s manhood is so thick that Tiriel can see herself all the way up to the cervix.
She moves her hips feeling his amazing length inside.
“My woman. Mine. Only… mine”, he grunts.
Her perky tits sway following the rhythm of the moving bodies. Tiriel’s mind is empty and her mouth just makes whimpering sounds.
Astarion tightens his grip around her as his own release gets closer. Tiriel doesn’t feel her legs as the orgasm takes over her. Powerful contractions tear through her body as his cum fills her to the brim.
Tiriel elbows up to see her entrance better. The cock much softer than it was seconds ago is taken away from her pussy and the cum leaks out.
“Look at yourself," Astarion says. “You are completely ruined.”
He tugs Tiriel with his arm and once their faces are in front of each other he starts kissing her cheeks and lips.
“Speak ill about yourself once again, and I am going to fuck you into a state of unconsciousness.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time!”
Astarion laughs and Tiriel finally manages to free herself and lay beside him. He immediately wraps his hands around her.
“But I mean it. I know why you think bad of yourself. But it isn’t true. There is no such thing as an ugly half-elf. And you are… something even in comparison with them. Among the elves, you would be a fucking goddess of war, with your red hair and strong legs. All these talks about dirty blood are nothing, but the frustration of elves who aren’t worthy of anything. Tiriel, promise me, if you feel bad you tell me.”
“I just don’t want you… you know…”
“I am not made of glass, Tiriel. I need you and not only when I have nightmares. But you also need me. That’s the deal, isn’t it? Be there for each other.”
“It’s weird to compare my struggles with yours,” Tiriel admits.
Astarion gently touches her cheek with his finger. “Struggles are struggles. No one has a right to abuse a little child and call her a freak for what she is. No one has a right to tell a complete stranger she is nothing but trash below the “true people's” feet. Besides, we can always kill people we don’t like.”
Tiriel giggles and buries her nose in the crook of his neck. She feels too sleepy for a bath or any sort of aftercare and allows herself to relax.
**
Tiriel is sound asleep and she doesn’t wake up even when Astarion cleans her skin of sweat and cum. He studies her body, noticing the fresh bruises and old scars. Then, Astarion lies beside her covering them both with a blanket.
He doesn’t need to sleep but he can spend his hours of reverie right now.
It still troubles Astarion - the very point of the elven trance is to relive the moments of their long lives to remember, to carve them in memory. But he doesn’t want to remember anything before he became free. Before he met Tiriel.
Memories flood him and he hopes he will have enough willpower to not see anything nightmarish.
The meadow bathes in moonlight. Astarion stays there, waiting. Waiting for this half-elven warrior to seduce and sleep with. To make sure she protects him, helps. Well, it will probably require some talk, some sweet words - but she will be his.
“You are an idiot”, Astarion says to himself from the past. “Your simple plan will end up with you not being able to think about anything else but Tiriel.”
“Hello, Astarion.”
He turns around and sees her, the fierce leader of their small group.
Absolutely naked.
Tiriel looks at him with no fear. With a challenge. He can’t take his eyes off her. Probably, Vandria, the Elven Goddess of War, looks like that without her divine armor.
Astarion concentrates. He wants to remember the first time he saw Tiriel like that, the first time he had her, even though his intentions were pathetic to the very least.
“And what do you want, Astarion?” she asks, getting closer to him.
The question strikes him. What does he want? He doesn’t remember anyone asking him that. He wants… What? This woman? Revenge? Freedom? He doesn’t know.
Tiriel is so close he can hear her heartbeat. She kisses him. With passion, with desire.
For the first time. It is the first time she kisses him.
Astarion embraces the memory. He didn’t know at that moment - but that was when he fell.
The reverie slowly lets him go, and the woman he’s dreamt about is still by his side.
--
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hello! i just came by one of your post, and checked your profile for more. could you do a rape scenario for sukuna? it can be short, or long, anyway you prefer, no pressure <3
Smut. 18+. Rape/Noncon! This is a very brutal little fanfic! Do not read if things like this bother you! Contains blood/torture/humiliation/double penetration. All the bad things! This turned out way longer than I planned but I got kinda into it lol. Goes harder than I intended too but let’s face it: being raped by Sukuna would be a very hard experience.
You were a powerful sorceress. That’s what everyone had told you since you were a young girl. Your power dwarfed that of every other person in your large village, and so you were treated as special, almost like a deity. You had your own group of guards, whom you cherished as dear friends, and you adored the villagers who showered you with gifts.
So when the monster Ryomen Sukuna attacked your village, you didn’t even hesitate to step in and try your best to protect it. You were a bit naive, having been sheltered by the villagers, but you were not stupid. You had heard rumors about Sukuna, and so you were aware that you probably didn’t stand a chance against him. Still, if you could only keep him distracted long enough for some of the villagers to flee into the mountains, it would be worth trying to fight him.
He was most likely after the cache of cursed weapons and items stored there, and would probably have little interest in chasing down the people scurrying like rats. You would offer the treasures to him, but he was already in the village, already slaughtering everyone who stepped into his path. He would listen to no offers, no negotiations. So you dismissed your guards, who only left when you commanded them to guard the children as they were evacuated, and then hurried to the village square to confront Sukuna.
When you saw him, your heart nearly stopped. He was far more terrifying than you had ever imagined. It wasn’t just the four arms and four eyes, the massive height, the muscular figure. It was the aura he emitted, the crushing pressure of his very presence. Every inch of your body was screaming for you to run, or to immediately drop into a bow and beg for your life. This man was a cruel and brutal beast. He would tear you apart if you displeased him in the slightest of ways. That’s what you felt when you looked at him.
Even so, there was something awe-inspiring about him. You understood instantly how he had brought so many villages to heel and why people were drawn to him. There was a savage beauty to him that made your heart pound furiously.
But despite all of this, you still had to fight him. Every second you could buy was another second for the villagers to escape.
“If it’s the cursed tools you want, you can have them,” you shouted to him from several feet away. “Spare the rest of the villagers, and you can take them all with no resistance!”
He looked at you then, his red eyes all four sweeping over you. “What resistance?” he asked with a laugh, sending invisible blades slicing through a woman who was running by you. Her blood splattered across your robe.
As you suspected, trying to talk to him was pointless. Battle was the only language he understood at that moment.
So you attacked him. The fight was brief, lasting less than half an hour and consisting mainly of you evading his slashes while failing to get a solid hit on him. You got the impression he could have ended the fight instantly but had chosen to toy with you first. In the end, his slashes ripped through you, shredding your robes as well as your flesh, leaving you a bloody mess on the ground.
As your life faded, you saw him walking toward you, and to your great surprise, he used his Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you! Not enough to restore you completely, but enough to pull you out of the dying state. You were still covered in slash wounds, but they were closing up and no longer pouring blood. You struggled to get to your feet, realizing with embarrassment that your clothing had been completely destroyed, leaving you naked and totally vulnerable before this monster. You wrapped your wounded arms around yourself and looked at him questioningly, wondering why he spared you.
You got your answer soon enough.
He’d dragged you into the shrine, sat down on the raised dais, and pulled your bare, cut up body into his lap. You were too terrified, and too weak, to struggle. You’d used up all your cursed energy in your vain attempt to stall him, and you’d lost a lot of blood. It was still dripping down your body in small, slow trickles.
When he reached down with one of his four hands and pulled his own robe open, you nearly screamed. Revealed to you were two gigantic cocks, one above the other. Both were standing tall and hard. Apparently the battle, brief and one-sided as it was, had aroused him. Or maybe it had been the sight of your naked, bloody flesh. Regardless, you understood what was happening, and your only comfort was that more of the villagers would have a chance to escape while Sukuna was violating you.
Just then you heard a commotion at the shrine’s entrance, and the worst possible sight greeted you when you looked up. Your guards, the handsome and kind hearted young men who were charged with protecting you, had rushed in. The look of horror on their faces probably mirrored your own. You could only imagine what they were thinking, finding you in this state.
They ran forward, intending to help you, but the first one was sliced to ribbons before he got even a foot closer. The rest of them paused, but clearly were prepared to run at Sukuna again, but Sukuna’s smooth voice stopped them.
“Take another step, and I’ll slice her up the same way.”
They all froze, their infuriated eyes watching Sukuna’s hands jerk your arms behind your back while the other two moved over your body.
“Kneel,” he told them, and they quickly dropped to their knees. Sukuna grinned. “All of you watch.”
You turned your face to look at him. “Please, no! Just let them go! I won’t struggle!”
His haunting red eyes met yours as a wicked smile spread over his face. “I want you to struggle,” he said, and his two free hands yanked your legs apart, exposing you to your guards.
To a man, they all looked away, but then you felt a painful slash across your shoulder. Blood spurted as you cried out, and the guards looked back up. Sukuna didn’t even have to speak the threat for your guards to understand.
Sukuna shifted his hands so that only one of them was holding your wrists behind your back. Only one was needed. Two of them were still holding your thighs wide apart, and the last one moved down between your legs, his fingers gliding across your slit. One finger slipped between the delicate flesh and found your most sensitive spot, stroking it with agonizing gentleness. You didn’t want to feel pleasure in this situation, from an evil, sadistic man who’d murdered many of your friends, and right in front of your poor guards who were forced to watch. But Sukuna’s fingers moved masterfully, rubbing in exactly the right way to send jolts of pleasure through your entire body.
You quivered in his lap, trying to pull your hands free, trying to close your shaking legs, but it was no use. Your struggling and fighting only seemed to excite him.
He pressed his mouth against your ear, and said in a low, sultry voice, “For a nobody in a backwater village like this, you’re pretty strong. But that’s alright. I enjoy breaking the strong ones.”
Suddenly you felt something wet and soft moving over your clit. You looked down in alarm to find a mouth in his palm, the lips open and a long tongue protruding from it, lapping at your spread open pussy. You cried out in surprise, and then in horror when you realized the pleasure was becoming too much for you. Sukuna was going to make you cum right here in front of your guards.
You struggled again, jerking against his grip, but it only made him laugh loudly.
“You should be thanking me,” he said. “If I don’t get you properly slicked up, my cocks are going to rip you apart.”
You whimpered in response, tears filling your eyes. You knew what was coming, but having him verbally confirm it broke your spirit.
You’d been avoiding the eyes of your guards. You couldn’t bear to meet their gazes. But there was one you’d been particularly close to, and you couldn’t help seeking his face for some small bit of comfort. But when you looked at him, you found his face flushed pink as he watched you writhe about in Sukuna’s grasp.
Sukuna chuckled in your ear. “Your guards are starting to enjoy the show.” The words cut you deeper than any of Sukuna’s slashes had. These men were your friends! Some were like brothers to you!
Suddenly Sukuna’s hand-tongue plunged inside you while his fingers pinched your clit. You moaned despite yourself, your back arching against your will. You’d never felt anything like this, and with tears of shame and pain running down your face, you came on Sukuna’s hand.
When it was finally over, and you were a trembling mess in Sukuna’s lap, you hung your head low and sobbed. You were so ashamed of yourself for feeling pleasure, for having an orgasm from the touch of this brutal conqueror. But your torment was only beginning.
You felt Sukuna lift your whole body up, then position the tip of his absurdly huge upper cock at your entrance. Then without hesitation, he pulled you down, roughly and quickly, impaling you.
A scream erupted from your mouth as you felt yourself stretching past your limits, your skin slightly tearing, warm blood trickling down your thighs. Sukuna was merciless, immediately beginning to move you up and down his length with two of his powerful hands, as if you were a toy to him. You cried, you struggled, but it only made his movements faster, harsher. He was enjoying your pain, laughing at your humiliation.
Eventually, after an unknown amount of time passed during which you almost blacked out twice, you heard his voice again. “My lower cock is feeling neglected.”
You were half conscious, but you snapped to awareness when you felt his other tip pressing into you. His fingers had slid in beside his upper cock, and were stretching you even further open, to make room. You looked back at him in disbelief. “Y-you can’t! That would kill me!”
Again he put his warm mouth close to your ear as he said, “From the moment you attacked me, you’ve been living on borrowed time. At least use your pitiful death to please me.”
You glanced out at your guards, your addled mind somehow hoping they could save you. But they were all frozen, the ones that had looked slightly aroused earlier now looked horrified as they realized what Sukuna was doing. A few of them had tears in their eyes.
“Please send them away,” you begged. “Don’t make them watch me die.”
“But that’s the best part!” he said, the grin on his face looking slightly unhinged.
And then, the second cock shoved its way in. You gasped first, then screamed as he sheathed it completely inside you, ripping you open in the process. As he began moving you up and down, drilling into you, the pain was blinding, maddening. You wondered if this was what giving birth felt like.
Two of his hands were on your waist, lifting you up and down, one was still holding your wrists behind you. The fourth hand touched your face, turning it to the side so that he could look at you, so he could watch the agony in your eyes. For a moment, he wore no expression at all. And then he dipped his head closer to yours and kissed your mouth. It was a bizarrely sensual kiss, a kiss for lovers. Gentle, slow, intimate. It confused you more than anything.
He released your wrists, but you were too weak to do anything useful with them, so they dropped limply to your sides. The hand he’d been using to restrain you slid down, and again a mouth appeared in his palm, the tongue softly circling your clit.
You wanted to scream again, to beg him to stop. Don’t make me feel pleasure while you’re killing me! you thought. But your tortured body sought out any relief it could find, any sensation that didn’t hurt. And Sukuna’s tongues, one in your mouth and one gliding wetly over your clit, did not hurt. In fact they were the only things that didn’t.
So your body responded. Even as his twin cocks tore through you, even as you could hear blood dripping onto the floor, you moaned into Sukuna’s mouth. Reflexively, without your permission, one of your hands moved up to touch his face as he kissed you, sliding back and into his hair. You felt him smile against your mouth, his eyes shimmering with delight.
You didn’t want this. You could think of very few things you could want less than being violently raped by Sukuna in front of your helpless guards. But the human body does all sorts of strange things to cope, to survive. So you came, moaning and crying at the same time, your body twitching in his hands, your guards looking on in horror.
Eventually, Sukuna’s cocks shot out massive loads of cum, first the upper one and then the lower one, completely filling you. Afterwards, he pushed you off his lap, and you landed unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, blood and cum pouring out of you.
You were certain you were dying, and within seconds you passed out right there on the floor of the shrine.
When you awoke, Sukuna had taken all the cursed tools your village had been guarding and left. You heard from one of your guards, who refused to look you in the eye, that Sukuna had healed you almost completely before leaving. You had no idea why.
You also found out the majority of the villagers had made it safely into the mountains, and were now being escorted back by the guards. So even though you had gone through hell and back, you would still do it again. Your suffering saved a lot of lives, and you could live with that.
Sometimes you wondered why Sukuna spared you, and even went so far as to heal you. Maybe it was just a whim. Or maybe he thought he might return someday to terrorize you again. Either way, you had survived. Your village had survived.
#Sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#Sukuna#ryomen sukuna#tw: rape#tw: blood#tw: torture
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The Beauty of Chance
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Dúnedain!Reader
Summary: Whilst finding respite in Beorn's home, certain relevations are had. Or; you and Thorin do a little more than just talk things through.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: feather-light smut, the reader smokes a pipe
a/n: Reader is Dúnedain because I'm physically incapable of writing a middle earth fic where the reader isn't Dúnedain. Once again I used Irish as a replacement for the Dúnedain's native tongue because trying to translate Númenórean Sindarin is a nightmare :)
Beorn's home offered a sense of comfort and safety of the likes you hadn't felt since leaving the Shire. The high walls eased your nerves and you found your hand no longer instinctively reached for your sword. It served as a quaint port amidst the storm, a chance to catch your breath. And it had come long overdue.
After a breakfast sweetened with berries and honey and made up of foods far finer than anything you'd seen since passing Bree, you decided on spending the morning exploring Beorn's home in all its subtle splendor.
Everything seemed to dwarf you in size, from the furniture to the settlement itself. It was an odd feeling, one that stirred up a strange sense of nostalgia; wandering into your father's forge as a child and toying with tools far too large for small hands. You supposed it also offered a glance into the life of your companions.
You reached to undo the lock to the back door, vowing to never poke fun at Bilbo's height again when the plank of wood fell snugly back into the lock despite your best efforts.
You passed through the stables instead, petting the manes of the mares that resided there as you did.
The gardens, just like the rest of the skin changer's dwellings, were evidently tended to with no shortage of care. A small warren of rabbits dozed comfortably in the ryegrass and blooming flowers brushed your knees. You simply stood among it all for a moment, feeling the soil beneath your feet and the sweetened air in your lungs.
The outskirts of the garden were bordered by two oak trees, mature and proud. Their canopy provided a small shadowed patch and you quickly found respite against its bark and beneath its leaves.
With the company out of sight, you breathed a pained sigh.
Your muscles ached and your body felt stiff. It was somewhat difficult to convince it to relax after so long spent prepared to fight at a moment's notice. Shifting against the tree bark, you undid your shirt enough to reveal the unpleasantly long gash that ran across your shoulder and coiled down your arm. The fine work of an orc blade. The bleeding had all but stopped now, but the wound's edges were jagged and an angry red. And the horrid stinging that accompanied such injuries was yet to go away.
You undid the bandages and bound the wound in fresh cloth. It was by no means your finest work but others in the company had sustained far worse wounds during the scuffle on the cliffside and Oín only had two hands and a very limited amount of supplies. You wouldn't seek out care when your friends needed it more.
Besides, the blade had caught your weaker arm. You could still hold your sword, still carry out your purpose.
You'd manage.
Relacing your shirt and silently vowing to put your stubbornness aside and seek help should a fever set in, you sat back against the bark, shifting until you found comfort.
It felt nice to finally rest. To close your eyes and not fear for your company's safety. You reveled in the quiet. For all of two minutes.
The sound of brambles snagging on leather and stones shifting beneath heavy boots had you up and alert and despite all logic, your hand still grasped at your empty sword belt.
You calmed when Thorin rounded the tree. He seemed startled at the sight of you.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude,” the dwarf said, words genuine. He stepped back, as if ready to turn on his heel should you ask him to.
“Searching for some peace and quiet?” You asked instead. Such moments were few and far between. “It would seem we both had the same idea.”
The king's head fell forward in a nod and when still he made no move to leave you motioned to your side.
“Sit.”
His hesitation was brief. He settled beside you, then all was quiet again. A sudden breeze, warm and tinged with the scent of autumn, rushed through the leaves. Thorin took a deep breath before releasing it in an uneven sigh.
It was an odd sight, seeing him at ease. You'd go as far as to call it unnatural. His relaxed shoulders and gentle expression seemed foreign and uncanny. But you couldn't deny the youthfulness that seemed to soften his features now. It was not unlike the glimpses you'd caught of him during your shared night watches when both of you were too stubborn to let the other stay up alone.
A quaint stillness began to settle and when Thorin still said nothing, you decided neither would you. You were happy to sit in silence at his side.
From your pocket, you produced your pipe, old and worn around the rims but still trusty enough to serve its purpose. You ran your fingers along the polished wood, all the way down to its blackened base. Generously stuffing it full, you held a match to the green leaves until they kindled and began to smolder.
Bilbo, bless his heart, had offered you what was left of his pipe-weed. ‘The finest you'll find anywhere south of Bree,’ he'd promised as he handed it over without a second thought after discovering yours has been lost to the greedy hands of goblins.
The first exhale of smoke left lips that were turned up in a smile. The generosity of halflings would never cease to amaze you.
The taste of tobacco sat heavily on your tongue as you blew out wisps of grey smoke and watched as they were carried off on the afternoon breeze.
“I owe you thanks,” Thorin said suddenly, shifting beside you. “The courage you showed on the cliffside, your willingness to help this company, it's not something I take for granted. You have done a great deal for us and we- I am grateful.”
“You don't have to thank me, Thorin.” You exhaled another flurry of smoke.
“But I do. When I called on my own kin for help they turned away. But you, a soldier of Man, a ranger, you answered. You didn't have to, by all means of sanity you shouldn't have. But you did.”
You chewed anxiously on the tip of your pipe. “I know what it's like to be without a home,” you said simply. “And it is not a faith I would wish upon anyone.”
Thorin only nodded in response. His gaze shifted to the tree roots beneath his feet.
You hadn't spoken much of your past, although by the way you carried both yourself and your sword, Thorin knew that your life until this point had not been one without hardship. The race of men were as dependant on each other as a fawn to it's mother; venturing out on ones own was strange for your kind. Gandalf had not indulged him with your story, only what he needed to in order to convince him to accept you as one of the company.
But Thorin knew what a renegade looked like. He'd lived as one long enough to know what the dreariness in your eyes and your indifference to battle and death meant. Part of him wanted to tell you that, to form that middle ground and hope it offered some comfort.
“Regardless, I am glad to have you with us,” he said instead.
At your feet, a lone beetle made its way through the undergrowth. You watched in bemusement, shifting your boot to clear its path. You turned to Thorin and found his own eyes trained on the bug as it continued on its journey. In an odd moment of catharsis, you saw the dwarf beside you not as a king, but a friend and fellow soldier. You offered him your pipe.
When the dwarf noticed your extended hand he smiled almost fondly. The sight made the aches in your muscles ease. He took the pipe in gentle hands, pressing the mouthpiece to his bottom lip and filling his lungs with the finest pipeweed the Shire had to offer.
He pushed the grey cloud past his lips in one deep breath, the smoke taking the shape of a perfect ring before disappearing above the tree.
You raised an unamused brow. “I would not have offered had I known you'd take the opportunity to show off.”
“Lying is not becoming of you, master ranger,” the dwarf responded smoothly, his eyes closed and lips turned up in a satisfied smirk. His hair splayed out around his head like a darkened crown, white strands catching in the sun like silver.
For no reason other than to make watching him an easier task, you shifted against the tree so that you faced the king. The resulting pain that lashed up your arm in doing so had you hissing through your teeth. Thorin's eyes were on you in a moment.
“I'm alright,” you dismissed quickly.
The dwarf looked entirely unconvinced. He reached for the collar of your shirt and when you made no attempt to stop him, pulled the fabric down.
“Mahal,” he said the word like a curse, low and rough. “How long have you kept this hidden?” Struggling to fall somewhere between a convincing lie and an honest under exaggeration, you decided against answering altogether. With a grunt, Thorin pushed forward and onto his knees. He took the hem of his undershirt in one hand and tore off a strip with less than a second thought.
Just as you hadn't answered him earlier, you said nothing as Thorin began to tend to you.
The bandages, already tinged pink, fell away easily in his grasp. A single line of blood seeped from the open gash and trickled down the swell of your bicep. Thorin swiftly decided the best he could do was simply rebind the wound. Despite their broadness, his fingers worked nimbly, carefully gracing over your arm and masterfully retying the bandages.
“You're a fool,” he said eventually, finishing the bindings with an unnecessary tug. “I believed your selflessness to be honorable, now I'm more inclined to think it idiotic.”
You huffed a laugh and winced.
Thorin took up the torn strip of blue linen from his shirt and carefully looped it around your arm, tying it taunt against your shoulder.
“Where did you learn that?” you asked. With the added support, the aching throb in your arm had all but ceased.
“I learned many things during my time in the Blue Mountains and in the villages of Man. How to properly dress a wound was one. It would appear that was a skill you did not pick up during your time on the road.” He answered with a smirk.
“Healers usually work in silence,” you reminded him.
He smiled at your words despite himself. He looked younger when he smiled. His eyes brightened and shone silver. You found yourself wishing it was a sight you could see more often.
There was something about the way he tended to you that set a deep ache in your chest.
He finished his work with one more tight knot and a satisfied hum. “It will do for now. I'll have Oín treat it once he has a moment to spare.” His hand ran down the length of your arm before falling away at the bend of your elbow.
“I'll manage,” you said. The words were almost second nature now.
“You always do.” Thorin's voice was soft. He regarded you in a manner so gentle the ache in your chest flared, a pounding against your ribs. But when his eyes caught your own, the look vanished and he stood. “I've intruded long enough, I'll take my leave.”
“Why not stay?” You were embarrassed by how quickly the words jumped from your throat.
“Because if I do I fear I'll do something rash.”
“Thorin–” you rose to your knees, reaching out and grasping his forearms. The action surprised you both.
You failed to find any words to confront him with, anything that would translate the fierce fire he set in you. How he regarded you not just as an equal but as someone to be respected, admired. How he tore the very clothes on his back to stop your bleeding. How the action was almost instinctive. Even the simplest things. Like how he hadn't complained once about how the earth dug into his knees as he tended to you. How he still hadn't pulled away from you now...
Gravity seemed to give way beneath you and you pushed yourself up on your knees further till your lips brushed his. Thorin was still for a fleeting, terrifying moment; before he returned your affection with a fierce passion.
The earth bit into your knees and you rocked forward. Thorin's hands grasped your waist and anchored you against him. The feel of his palms against your side was grounding. You swore the world had faded into the great void at the end of time and this moment was all that was left.
When you parted, a shaking breath passed Thorin's lips. “You are far braver than I.” His voice was quiet, hoarse.
“Brave?” you grinned. “I thought you'd settled on idiotic.”
The dwarf laughed, full and hearty, and gods what you wouldn't do to hear it every day for the rest of your life.
“I think, perhaps, both can be true,” he said, and his lips were on yours again.
His advance was softer this time, fixed on feeling you against him, marveling at your touch. He kissed your neck, just above the beating of your pulse. His lips turned up in a smile.
You watched him in absolute awe; a descendant of Durin touching you as if you were carved from gold, a king willingly on his knees for an outcast.
The ache in your chest seized your heart.
Your hand rushed up his arm, fingers running past the swell of his shoulders and gently catching in his hair. Thorin gasped sharply, the bridge of his nose pressing tautly against the curve of your jaw. In a single grounding moment, you recalled the significance of hair in dwarven culture as well as the boundary you'd just overstepped.
You rightened yourself against the tree, forcing Thorin to pull away in turn.
“Forgive me, I didn't mean–” you swallowed. “Thorin if you want this to end you need only say so. I won't take offense.”
The silence that followed was uncomfortably thick. You sat unmoving as the dwarf regarded you with something you couldn't quite place. It left you feeling uncertain whether he was going to reach for you again or stand and leave.
“Why do you do that?” he asked instead. “Doubt yourself. Ask for forgiveness as if you have done something wrong. Do you truly find the thought of me wanting to touch you, to be touched by you, so difficult to accept?” He caught your chin with gentle fingers and raised your head. “I can think of nothing I want more.”
His touch ghosted your neck and you shuddered. Words could not tell him how much he meant to you, but you hoped your lips against his own and your heart beating frantically against his chest would.
Thorins knees began to ache, straining and giving way. You pressed a steady hand to his back and guided him forward until his legs slot over your own and your height balanced out. He surged closer, you could feel the tree bark biting into your back. You ignored it with ease.
The kings hand ran along the underside of your arm and the feel of it drew from you a soft breath. Your hand brushed over his braid, gently thumbing at the strands. You combed your fingers through the knotted locks behind his ear; the knowledge of what the act meant to Thorin, the intimacy of it all, made your head light.
Then, your fingers tapped almost unnoticeably against the base of his neck, right above his pulse where the dwarf's blood rushed so fast he was almost certain you could hear it. Your mouth parted in an unasked question and Thorin grunted a low ‘yes’.
Your lips traced his neck, kissing down his collarbone and ensuring to leave each of your marks below the collar of his shirt. Thorin steadied himself against you, breathing a sigh against your temple.
“Tá tú go hálainn, a grá,” the words were so raw, came from somewhere so primal within you, you hadn't noticed they'd left you in your mother tongue. “Tá m'chroí agat.”
Thorin managed a shuddering breath, a weak sound that caught in his throat. “I assume you will not be telling me the meaning of your words.” His hands shook as they moved against your back.
“Consider it reparations for each time you have spoken to me in Khuzdul with no intention of telling me what it is you'd said,” you smirked against his throat, recalling each time he'd addressed you in his native tongue. How the words always seemed natural and unmistakably genuine. He didn't feel the need to tell you the meaning behind those words now. He felt you already knew.
Thorin chuckled, boyish and light, and it set fire to your heart.
The sun had sunk behind the mountains and turned the air cold. But with Thorin laying by your side and a bed of grass at your back you swore you had enough warmth to last you the night.
The dwarf's arm rested beneath your head, hand tracing patterns you didn't recognize against your bandaged shoulder. Even now, his lips still brushed your head.
His other hand rested against your stomach and you bid your time tracing his palm, slowly and with purpose.
Thorin shifted beside you. You could hear the careful workings of his mind as he forged his next words on his tongue. “Should we succeed in taking back Erebor, where will you go?” He asked. His words were heavy.
“I don't know,” you answered honestly. “South? Towards Rohan and then wherever the road leads.”
It took the dwarf a moment to respond. Your words hollowed out his chest and set an ill feeling in his stomach. The thought of you alone stirred up a deep sadness Thorin had not felt in an age. You, with your spark for storytelling and devotion to others and your incomprehensible ability to simply make a difference. To bring light to whatever situation you found yourself in, to join a company that was all the better to have you. To stumble into the life of a downtrodden king and singlehandedly remind him he deserved his throne.
“If we take back the Mountain, I want you to know that you are welcome to stay, should that be something you wish.”
You took a deep breath, holding it till you were certain Thorin's words had not caused your heart to cease beating. As the true weight of the offer set in, you released Thorin's hand.
“I would not think I'd be wanted. I have no right-”
“You have every right,” Thorin said, his words instant and forceful, convincingly so. “As much right as any dwarf that refused to help us in our hour of need.”
You huffed a sigh that fell somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
“Someone like me staying in the sacred halls of Durin's folk. A lowly ranger...”
“You are so much more than that.” He said the words slowly, as if they were the most honest thing he'd ever spoken. “You are a descendant of the Men of the West, a member of this company.” He paused. “You are Amralimê. My love.”
You shifted to look at him. A dwarf who by all means of faith and sense you should never have crossed paths with. But by the beauty of chance, he'd entered your life and reminded you, in all his subtle ways, that it was worth living. That you were worthy.
You dared to retake his hand in yours. “You'd have me?”
Thorin simply smiled.
“Above all else.”
Thank you for reading! <3
authors notes:
Irish translation: tá tú go hálainn, a grá - you are beautiful my love. Tá m'chroí agat - you have my heart. Phonetic pronunciation for those interested - taw two guh haul-in, ah graw. Taw muh-kree a-gut.
#sincerest apologies for pulling a 'fade to black'#thorin oakenshield x reader#thorin x reader#thorin oakenshield x you#thorin imagine#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit imagine
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hello it’s itto’s birthday so of course i have to provide some content for him <3
+ warning(s): smut, mdni 18+, unprotected sex, heavy breeding, multiple rounds, mind break and some dumbification, messy messy dirty sex, itto refers to reader’s pussy as ‘she’ but no pronouns for reader are used !!
when it comes to sex with arataki itto, you’re never limited to just one round. you know that, he knows that from the moment he pins you beneath him— itto’s hand curving over your tummy, keeps you pressed beneath him and your hips to the bed to stop them from running away from him and the way he bullies his cock deeper into your sweet cunt. “baby, baby, baby—“ he’ll coo, eyes rolled up and into the back of his skull while pushing his tip through your swollen folds, painting him in a shine as your slick clings to the ridges and spines decorating his pretty and weighty cock. “you want it, yeah? you want so much, don’cha? fuck…she’s so wet f’me,”
his frenzied and desperate gaze drops between your bodies to watch his hips work, catching side of his blistering red tip every time it peaks out from between your puffy pussy lips and smears fat droplets of precum against your clit like angel kisses. when he’s like this, itto cages you in, his muscular body draped over every inch of your soft one— his grip cascading from your baby fat cheeks to your plush sides and doughy thighs, he touches you up to his heart’s content, learns what he’s going to grab and pull as he fucks into you.
“c’mon baby, c’mon…tell itto what’cha want, what’cha need, hm?” his breath is warm against your neck and condenses against your equally warm skin, an arm wrapped around the back of your head keeps you close as the oni ruts feverishly into your sweet, sticky mound. all he needs is a yes, all itto needs is for you to beg him to fill you up and fuck you good. he’s already planning how many times he’s going to cum inside you, paint you white with so much of his seed that you’ll swell up nice and round for him. the thought alone has him drooling, slurring in desperation against your skin while teeth and tongue mark up your bare flesh— he’s so fucking hungry, itto always is.
and like a starved man, he moans in content when your sweet little voice rises above the lewd squelch of your princess cunt each time itto grinds into you for his own pleasure. “p-please,” you lament breathily, feeling the warmth tingle on your bottom lip— tugging hair and horn to get the oni to kiss you, despite the fact that his entire weight smothers you like this. “need you so bad, f-fuck me itto. i wan’ it,” you’re close to crying, a knot already built up in your tummy from his bulbous cockhead rolling over your clit as blood and arousal rush to it.
“you want me to fuck you?” the oni groans back, already working his fat cock past your tight creamy entrance. itto has no idea how harsh he sounds right now, how menacing he looks with sex crazed ruby eyes and his entire body dwarfing your own in size. you can only nod, whimper and nod and watch his face as it twists into an expression akin to that of a feral dog. “‘course you do, this gorgeous lil’ pussy, she’s callin’ my name— already tryna suck me in,” key word trying, clenching and squeezing down on every vein that decorates itto’s cock so deliciously. “fuck yeah…oh, ohh fuck, spread these thighs baby. nice ‘n wide, as far as they fuckin’ go, yeah,”
there’s a little whine that you let out as itto sits back on his haunches, you miss how he forces you deep int the mattress without even thrusting into you— it’s that sound that drives the oni crazy, eager to force all of his girth deep into your pretty, selfish cunt even though you struggle to take him. you push your thighs apart, fighting the urge to close them around his hips, letting itto bullying his way inside you and press up against your silken walls.
“c’mon baby, ease up…lemme go. can’t fuck you when you’re squeezin’ on me like this,” you clench when he speaks, breath hitching even when you’re half the way down his cock— feeling yourself stretch to accommodate his size. “baby—“ he warns.
“‘m not clenchin’, p-promise itto,” whining and tearing up, and squirming against the large hand on your tummy that presses against the oni’s bulge in your tummy.
“s-shit.”
he forget’s how tight you are, how you have to cum at least once for him to even be fully sheathed inside you. itto swears to whatever archons are watching him ruin you from above, that he’ll make himself dumb (or dumber than he is) trying to get you down on his cock— that he’ll fuck you dumb until his heart is content and his heavy breeders balls are empty of all that he has to give. rough padded fingers find your clit, drawing his name in mismatched letters against it until you open up for him like a blooming flower. you’re so wet, even wetter now that you’re being toyed with, the damn breaking as you cum for him— thick strings of your arousal gathering between your precious pussy lips and sliding between your ass cheeks before pooling into the sheets. it’s this new found wetness and the heavy, copious amounts of precum oozing from itto’s dangerously big cock that helps him glide into you— pulling salacious moans from both of your lips.
“that’s it baby, lemme fuck you, please, lemme have you…that’s right,” itto can barely control his words from there, each of them dripping in his drool after he smothers you with the weight of his body again. he folds you, knees to your chest and fucks into the heat of your sweet cunt. itto’s balls sit nicely against the curve of your ass while he plunges deep, catches against the ribs of your velvety walls and goes cross eyed when he hits that spongy spot inside you to make you grip onto his cock for dear life. “oh fuck, you’re takin’ me so good, made to have me fuck you up like this weren’t you baby?”
“uhuh, yes…yes!” you’re a mess beneath itto, covered in spit and cum and tears with makeup streaks running down your face— barely able to keep up with the brutal run of his hips into yours while he clears your head of any logical thought and let’s you cream away at his dick. he’s right there, against your special spot, practically bruising it with how the tip of his cock prods at it over and over again. you’ve barely begun and you’re seconds away from gushing over itto again. and it won’t be the first time that night.
your hands rough up his hair and arataki’s slip down the rest of your body, to your thighs to press your legs higher up your body— to the back of your head or to your tummy to feel just how deep he can go. lewd slaps and sickening squelches fill the air, and taint the scent of what surrounds you— your bodies wet and sweaty as his abs contract and peel away from your soft tummy every time itto’s hips pull back to thrust into you. you cum just before he does, itto always makes sure of that, even in his fucked out state, face mashed into a pillow coated in his own drool, he’ll get you off as best as he can— revelling in how you scratch down his back and arch your chest into his— your pebbled nipples brushing against his own.
itto’s mouth falls open, against your heated cheek, mimicking your moans when you cream all over him— nectar staining his skin and seeping through your sheets in a wet puddle. he’s groaning, heaving like a wild beast when he spills into you too, thick white painting your insides— so much so that it spills out against your swollen, fucked raw pussy and the sight has him pushing back into you at a climbing pace. none of his cum can go to waste.
“‘m sorry baby,” itto hiccups, even though he’s not, this time having flipped you onto your stomach— shivering at the wet pap and suctioning sound your little cunt gives as he fucks his seed deep into you once more. “can’t stop, gotta…shit, gotta make sure it stays,” deep and gluttonous moans turn to high pitched, whistle tone whimpers. “you don’t mind, right? bein’ so fuckin’ full…oh no you don’t. no you fuckin’ don’t,” words stop making sense to itto when he’s this deep into ravaging you, his milky cock finding solace and a home in your sex that clings to him— doesn’t let him out no matter how far he pulls his hips back. “oh baby, listen to that,” the pace slows, pumping hips switch to a sticky grind just so you can hear how eager your fluttering, juicy little hole is to take him. “could listen to that forever, wanna hear your cunt suck in my cock like that forever,” itto mumbles, forcefully picking up the pace until the bed creaks beneath you and threatens to break with the weight of his thrusts.
arataki will cum again, over and over— each time smearing his cum down your thighs and over your tummy— into your clit as he draws shapes on it to make you squirt with a cry of his name. he doesn’t care if his mind breaks and his body tires, he’ll go until he physically can’t anymore and the scent of his sex clings to your body trapped beneath him.
”itto…please, please…” you’ll cry with a futile attempt at begging, for what? you have no idea, beef beyond reality. your brain is too fizzed and fucked up to care really— leaving you a full mess, as taking the weight of itto and clench to keep his seed lining your abused walls. itto, despite being barely conscious circles his hips into yours with his seedy mess spread over your sore thighs— still hard and twitching between your shaky legs.
he’ll go until he can’t anymore, sex with itto is never just one round.
#tteokdoroki#arataki itto x reader#arataki itto x you#itto x you#itto x reader#arataki itto smut#itto smut#arataki itto drabbles#itto drabble#itto thirst#arataki itto imagines#arataki itto fic#itto imagines#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin drabbles#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin thirsts#🗑. aali’s chatroom
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Abandoned
Ghost x König x Reader
CW: Smut, attempted non-con, blood, naked burly men, slight yandere vibes, but darling reader is on board with it
Working on behalf of a charity in the Middle East village you are working with is taken over by Al Qatala. One faction wants to kill you, and the other wants the improvements promised before they kill you. Many months of serious negotiations pass without an agreement being made. A US military squad moves through one day, shooting those who shoot them, seemingly on a random patrol.
You have been working on getting the placement for a new well pinpointed during this time, which was the goal of the charity on this trip, and now is one of the only reasons you still live. All of your possessions have been taken save for the shoes on your feet, soft-soled, so you can not escape, and your niqab which clothes you from head to toe, with a small opening for your eyes. Oh, and a single pair of underwear that has definitely seen better days.
A US soldier in desert camouflage near the edge of the village grabs you when you try to escape, and you think you are saved. Instead, he chuckles and decides he is going to have a little fun with a local woman, dragging you into a nearby empty house. He rips at your niqab, tearing your clothes from you blindly. It is only when your face is uncovered that he realizes that you are not local and not even Arabic, but an American like him.
As he continues to tear at your clothes, there is a noise at the door and a surprisingly warm, Scottish voice says, "Whatcha doin' in ere?" The soldier freezes, then glances next to him where his rifle is just out of easy reach. Before he can even fully make his decision, there is a metallic noise from next to you.
Another voice, cold and British this time, says, "Don't give it a thought." When he turns to face this second man, a set of hands gently clamps down on your arm and shoulder and pulls you backward against his body with a quiet but firm, "Danke." Your head barely reaches his shoulder, despite being tall for a woman at 5'10". In a smooth motion, he passes you over to the man at the door who wraps his arm and most of his body around you as he guides you to the alley between the houses. Just as you cross the threshold, you hear the US soldier say "Kilgore" in the most terrified voice you've ever heard.
There is screaming, yelling and some rather gruesome sounds of what, you don't quite know floating from the house. The man who led you to the alley tries to distract you, introducing himself as Soap. He asks you your name and other questions you struggle to answer, including why you are here in such a dangerous place alone before the other two men join you. You don't hear them walk over so much as you feel their gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck rising up in a primal warning.
When you look up from the much too interesting patch of dirt you have been focusing on, you see two tall men advancing, both wearing face coverings to rival the one you were wearing just minutes ago. The shorter man is wearing a neoprene type mask with a skull design. You snort internally at the idea of a man over six feet tall being considered short, but the sheer size of the mountain of a man next to him dwarfs even a six feet frame. Said mountain of a man has a curtain of fabric covering his face. It is black with two red streaks running down from the eyes. The former is introduced as Ghost by Soap. Ghost gives a brusque nod before turning away to speak into his radio.
The taller man you realize is the one who passed you off to Soap in the house. As you step closer to thank him, you realize that he is covered in blood and bits of...what is that?! You blanch, but with a smile pasted on that is much too toothy for the situation, you say, "Thank you, a-all of you." Soap is clearly weirded out by your deranged grin, and you say through clenched teeth, "Sorry. Tying not to puke." A look of understanding crosses his face. You glance back at the blood and viscera coated man, but he turns away from you. Soap says quietly, "That is König. Now, we need you to stay put so we can finish what we came to do and then you will evac with us." You nod, managing to control your stomach with enough swallowing.
The three men head out, each glancing back when they think the others aren't watching. As they leave, you find a small spot to hide and curl yourself up into the tightest ball you can to not be seen. It feels like hours of listening to guns firing, men yelling and screaming, and worrying if you will finally be able to escape when they finally return.
"Schatzi. Mein Schatzelinchen, where are you?" Surprisingly, it is König calling quietly for you as he and Soap enter the alley.
Soap exclaims, "Schatzi?! What the hell is a Schatzi? She has a name, you know." König shrugs.
"She is Schatzi to me. Ich liebe mein Schatzi," he replies in a possessive voice.
"Leibe? What does that mean? Lo-" Soap jumps in surprise as you wiggle out of the tiny hiding spot you found, and König blocks him from bringing his gun to bear, seemingly having already known you were hiding there and that it would surprise Soap.
"Come on, Schatzi. It is time to go." He holds out a hand, which you hesitantly take. It squelches in your grip, which you try very hard not to react to. The sound and feeling of it distracts you enough that you don't notice the loose sand near the edge of the road and trip into König's side. "Scheiße Schatzelinchen. None of that now. We must hurry to the evac." He picks you up and cradles you to his chest like a fragile bride. Soap eyes him hard, but hurries to keep up when König takes off in a sprint to join Ghost at the evac.
Ghost is waiting impatiently, and you see his eyes widen behind the mask as he sees you being carried, covered in blood. Soap calls out, "She just tripped. Blood is all from the big guy's 'work', and he decided we needed to leave like the hounds were after us wee hares." Ghost's shoulders drop as he lets out the breath he was holding. A chopper drops down just as they reach the evac point. You bury your face into the copper-scented vest of König's gear to keep the sand out of your eyes and try to ignore the sticky feeling it leaves on your forehead.
They throw themselves into the seats, and you end up between König and Ghost. They lean hard against you as the helicopter takes off, and you can feel your shoulders creaking. After a minute of this and the helicopter stabilizing the path it takes back to base, you lean back as far as you can in your seat. Ghost and König lean with you, still pinning you between them. They both yell in surprise when you jerk forward, and they knock heads together behind you. Soap belly laughs as they both sit up and rub their heads, glaring at each other over the top of you. Your quiet giggles go unnoticed by all three men.
Ghost apologizes quietly in your ear, and you immediately sober as a shiver passes through you and your cheeks redden. It seems an eternity later when you finally land at the base they are working out of. Soap takes the lead, and you walk between the two giants through the base until you reach a building off to the side. You freeze in the doorway when you realize it is a large communal locker room and showers full of men in various states of undress.
Ghost pushes you through the doorway and says, "Just follow Soap. We need to clean off this blood and...stuff." You hurry up to Soap and grab his vest, then shut your eyes tightly, trusting him to lead you safely. He brings you to a quiet and empty corner. You glance around carefully, looking for a washcloth or something only to slam your eyes shut and bring your hands to cover them when Soap starts to quickly undress in front of you. The sticky feeling your blood covered hands add to your face is even less pleasant than before.
Soap jokingly says, "What? Never seen a naked man before?" At the shake of your head, he goes quiet, and when you peek up at his face, his mouth is hanging open in surprise.
"No, this is...I've never..."
From behind you, you can hear the quiet shuffle of clothes, boots and gear being pulled off and Ghost drawls "Well, glad we can be your first and ruin you for all other men, but we still need to get the blood off." You glance back at them and get more than an eyeful of both Ghost and König before turning a deep shade of red. You realize that they have kept on their masks and guess that their anonymity must be deeply important to them.
"Fine, I'll just...umm..." You stare down at your torn and disgusting clothes. With a sigh, you shed your clothes quickly, piling your torn niqab, underwear, and shoes on a nearby bench.
"That is all you were wearing, mein Schatzi?" König sounds a bit out of breath behind his mask.
"Yeah, they took everything else months ago," you say shyly.
Soap tosses down a set of sandals for you to put on. "Well then, let's go rub me all over and clean up," Soap jokes, trying to break the tension. The looks of horror and disgust let him know that his joke hit perfectly, and his laugh echos through the room. You stare at your sandals, trying hard not to look at anyone as the three men walk nearly touching you in a bid to keep your nudity hidden behind their large bodies in the tight quarters of the communal shower. Soap finds a quiet corner and gently pushes you into it. "There's the soap, hun. Lather up really good, and then we will all rinse off together so nobody bothers us."
"Thanks." You shoot him a smile and quickly get to work rubbing the lather across your body. As you scrub down facing the wall, you try to get every bit of your body clean after nearly 9 months of bare minimum cleaning due to the village's rationing of water. You jump at the feel of hands on your back. Glancing back, you see König rubbing soap across your back, cautiously. You slowly relax as he gently scrubs the areas you can't reach. When he stops, you shyly gesture for him to turn around so you can scrub his back. The crinkle around his eyes that you can see makes you blush lightly, but you scrub his back anyway, returning the favor.
Ghoat seemingly pouts, at least you think so based on the glares he is sending König. You gesture for him to turn around after you finish with König. He groans as you gently rub the lather across his shoulders and back. You feel his breathy moans in your core, and when you look up, König is watching you like a hawk. You think he is mad, but he just says, "Good girl."
Soap has a baffled look on his face, looking between the three of you. After a minute, he just shrugs as if to say, none of my business and guides you to rinse off nearby, declining your offer to scrub his back. As you wash the soap out of your hair, you hear a man clear their throat nearby and open your eyes to see a stranger has worked his way near you while the men are focused on rinsing off quickly.
"Gonna scrub my back now?" He leers at your body unashamedly. You get your first view of an angry König as he claps a hand down hard on the man's shoulder and drags him backward.
"Leave my Schatzi alone, fotze." König moves to stand just inches from you as he rinses off. When he closes his eyes, you can't help yourself and take a peek down his body. A dark chuckle brings your eyes back up to meet his, and you quickly turn away to wash your hair again. The image of his cock is burned into your brain. You had no idea they could be that big and it was still soft. How big could did that thing get?
Clean but wet, your hair feels lighter than it has in months, and you've never been so happy to have a shower. Ghost turns you to face him, giving you a quick once over with his eyes. He uses his hand to scrub a few spots and splotches of blood off your face that you missed. Finally clean, you follow Soap back to the lockers with your eyes focused on his sandals. König and Ghost glare at anyone who dares to even glance at you.
Ghost hands you an oversized towel to use when you reach the lockers. It smells like manly and you wonder idly if that is what Ghost smells like all the time. Inspecting your clothes, you realize that none of them are fit to wear at this point. They are ripped, worn, and covered in blood, not to mention dirty from near continuous wear for nearly six months. You sigh and slip on your shoes, but just stare at the rest of the pile, trying to convince yourself to climb into them temporarily.
Suddenly, you are awash in a sea of clothing. As you struggle to get your head out, you feel calloused hands tugging it down your body. Your head pops out the top of the dress and you look down to realize it is a shirt. It smells like König, not Ghost, though you don't know how you are able to identify them so quickly. "Thank you, König," you say as you turn toward him, sliding your arms through and tugging a bit at the hem.
"You're welcome, Schatz." Your mouth goes slack as you realize he has literally given you the shirt off his back. His hairy chest and naked abs are on full display, a small trail of hair dipping down into his pants. You see a multitude of scars and a few fresher injuries, maybe even from earlier today. When you finally tear your gaze off his torso, he seems more than pleased to see you wrapped in his clothes from the look in his eyes.
The shirt barely reaches your thighs, but it's better than nothing, you decide. König disdainfully throws your old clothes into a trashcan, and you can't regret the loss at all. Ghost balls up your towel and throws it into the nearby laundry bin as you follow Soap back out, eyes trained studiously on his back. As the door shuts behind you, voices rise as many talk about what they had just witnessed, and one man checks the blossoming bruise on his shoulder, lamenting to his friends. They just shake their heads and tell him he was lucky to have gotten off so easy messing with a woman belonging to The One-Four-One.
Soap leads your group to a set of buildings seemingly on the opposite end of the camp. As you near the entrance, a frowning man in a hat waits. His voice booms out, "About time. (Y/n) with me." He walks off without checking to see if you're following. Ghost and König follow as well, while Soap heads off elsewhere within the building with his gear. Price stops at a door and turns to gesture you inside, stopping when he sees the two tall men flanking you still. "No, just (y/n). You can debrief later."
König grasps your hand with his free hand and staring into your eyes, says, "Goodbye for now, my Schatzi." You blush and croak out a goodbye as he walks away. Ghost shoots a glare at Price before turning to you and saying, "See you soon, Love." Price seems frustrated at how quickly you have charmed two of his best men and slams the door shut before gesturing at the open chair wordlessly. He stomps to the window behind his seat, looking out into the base. After several tense minutes, he turns back to you, gripping the top of the chair.
"Who are you, really?" Then, silence. As though he expects your answer to change now that you are alone. You stutter out your full name and his face changes from frustrated to angry. He slams his hands on the table. "I said, what is your real name?" You whimper and say it again, breaking eye contact in fear. He growls in frustration. "Then why the fuck can't I find you listed as missing?!"
You freeze in shock. "But... but... I've been a hostage in the village for... six months. I swear, I work for Blue Hope. I was here trying to get a well built for the village before they were taken over by those extremists."
"Well, Blue Hope has no record of you working there. Hell, whoever set up your cover must hate you because I can't find much of anything that says you ever existed at all." His glare somehow intensifies as you cower and try to think of a way to prove yourself with no I.D. or really anything connected to your life at all.
"I... I can prove I exist. I have an apartment that Blue Hope leased for me as part of my compensation in New York!" You sniffle a little as you try to keep your emotions in check, but it's difficult with your tendency to cry when you're frustrated.
He drawls, "they leased it, so how does that prove you exist?" He sits carefully in his chair, watching your every move carefully.
"I broke the rules of the lease and installed cameras. Bit of a nervous person, being away from there constantly, so I wanted to be able to check in, ya know."
"I don't, but how will cameras prove you are who you say you are?"
"I have two bachelor degrees on the wall of my office from Bandern University. They have my name and my majors and-and my minor. One is in environmental science with a specialty in water resources. The other is a political science degree with a specialty in international affairs. I'm still working on my Ph.D. in hydrology. That's why I'm working for Blue Hope instead of a private company. Nobody will hire a hydrologist without a Ph.D." Your voice strengthens as you explain your accomplishments; you're very proud of them for good reason. "I can show you on the computer. It's just a login on LinkUs to see the whole place."
"That doesn't seem secure at all for cameras that look into your whole house." He is definitely less angry and more surprised now. Captain Price navigates his computer to the website in question and puts in the login information you share.
"Yeah, I know. I turn them off when I'm home, but I know that isn't much of an excuse. I'm hardly ever there, so I wasn't as worried about it as I probably should be."
He frowns as the videos load on his screen. "Do you normally live... like a pig?" His try at diplomacy fails spectacularly as his shock slipped through. He turns the screen so you can see.
"Uhh... what?! My house isn't always the cleanest, but I don't live like a pig! Let me - oh god! What happened?!" The video feeds show nearly everything overturned and every drawer dumped on the floor. "I... I think I've been robbed! Umm... there. There is my office. If you click."
Price clears his throat and clicks on the office feed. "Ahh, does this? Yes, it does zoom. And there they are with (y/n) on them and the degrees you said. I'm still not 100% convinced, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt for now." He exits back to the main feed. "I need to investigate why you weren't-. Is anyone supposed to be there, a caretaker?"
"No. I should have hired someone." Your voice drops to a whisper as he clicks on the living room feed. "Wait, can you see someone?" Together, you listen to the man talking on the phone.
"Done. We haven't found it yet. I will have the full report once it is clean and empty tonight, but I don't think it is here." The strange man listens to the phone intently. "When will her body be recovered? We may need to intercept it, just in case she had it on her." He pauses. "Hopefully it was lost then because a local with computer access could be just as dangerous as an employee with the recording. Anyway, all traces will be gone..." The voice gets quieter as he walks away and out the front door.
You sit in shock. All traces gone. Does that mean what you think it means? Like, all of your things just gone forever? Price turns toward you with a careful look on his face. "I've never had someone exonerated so clearly and quickly before." His attempt at a joke falls flat.
"When." Your voice wavers, and you clear your throat trying to hold back tears. "When can I go home?"
Price looks decidedly uncomfortable now. "I don't know if you can, to be honest. I don't think it would be safe." The stress of the day seems to be finally catching up to you, and your sniffles turn into full-blown sobs. Price is now so uncomfortable that he can't sit still, jumping up and rushing to the door. "Where did those damn giants go, now? You!" he points at a man walking by.
"Me? Wait, is someone crying? Who's crying? I don't do crying." The soldier is quickly backing away quickly, looking nervous.
"Just go get König or maybe Ghost for fuck's sake, Roach!" Price snaps at him as he withdraws, missing the look of shock on Roach's face. He sidles along the wall toward his desk, watching you sob. The look of relief in his face when the door opens stops Ghost in his tracks. "Fix it, please," he says as he sits heavily in his chair, face in his hands.
Ghost stares at him, uncomprehendingly. "How the fuck did this happen? She was happy when we dropped her off." Despite the frustration in his tone, he moves to comfort you. He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. Ghost sits and settles you in his lap with your head tucked under his chin and shushes you gently. The glare he aims at Price is very short of comforting for him, though.
"Her home was wrecked and it sounds like it was the same company that stranded her here in the Middle East. She can't go home," Captain Price quickly shares.
Ghost perks up a bit, but keeps comforting you. Suddenly the door slams into the wall and König bursts into the room. "Mein Schatzi! Hands off her - she's mine!" He grabs you tightly and yanks you out of Ghost's embrace. Ghost tries to pull you tight to him, but there is truly no contest when König is running on adrenaline, so he lets you go. The giant of a man pulls you tight, tucking you against his chest, much like Ghost had and muttering in German about all the things he is going to do to Price in revenge.
You nestle against him, feeling safe encased in his arms and finally manage to rein in your sobs after a few minutes. König switches to muttering what he wants to do to comfort you, his fingers playing with the hem of the shirt. Your quickly spreading blush stops him in his tracks. "Uhh...sprichst du Deutsch?"
Your shy "ein bisschen" in response makes him groan and you're sure the skin around his eyes is red with embarrassment. When a throat clears behind you, he jumps and his entire body tenses, ready to fight.
"Sorry Schatzi. I shouldn't have wrestled you away from comfort." König gently sets you back in Ghost's lap. You grab his hand when he begins to back away toward the office door and settle yourself so you can keep hold of him. Ghost wraps an arm around your torso and pulls you flush to his chest before focusing on Captain Price again.
"Well, uhh, now that the crying is done. What are they looking for? What did you stumble on?" Price tries to get everyone back to the problem at hand with slim hopes that the other men will forget this.
"I overheard and recorded a confusing conversation working late one night just before I left the country. I guess it was way scarier and more important than I thought. I just remember thinking it was really weird for them to be talking about bribes when we are supposed to be an above the board charity. I only recorded it in case we get audited or something, because I didn't want to go down with them. I didn't want anyone to know what I'd heard, because I knew it would screw everything up for me and the village. I just wanted to get a well put in for them so they always had water."
Price rubbed his temples. "Did you hide it in your apartment or leave it in the village, then?"
"No, neither." He looks up surprised. "I put it in a cloud server...or three. I wanted it in case we got audited or something. It's easiest to listen to on my SoundLight storage because you don't have to download it."
Price's jaw has fully dropped by this point and the quiet "attagirl" growled in your ear makes your eyes glaze over and a shiver pass through you. You lean forward and pull it up on the computer, hitting play before settling back into Ghost's lap. The hard cock pressing against your ass surprises you, but Ghost's only reaction is a shaky exhale in your ear. König takes your hand again, making you glance up with a smile. He squeezes gently and you turn back to Price as he focuses on the recording.
The frown on the Captain's face intensifies as the recording plays and you feel Ghost's erection flag quickly. The tightening grip of König's hand just adds one more layer to the realization that what you overheard is much more serious than you could have ever guessed. When the recording ends, Price looks happier. "This is a serious matter. We will need to take action on this immediately and with this recording, we have some great leads."
You perk up. "Does that mean I can go home soon? Maybe save stuff from getting tossed?" Price shakes his head no.
"It isn't that easy. We have to thoroughly investigate before we commit to direct action or we might risk only getting part of the operation. It could easily be another six months before we have enough to act on. Even then, you might need a whole new identity. I'm truly sorry."
"What am I supposed to do then? I don't have anything to my name... or do I even have my name now? Do I go into Witness Protection somewhere?" The sharp "No" and "Nein" from both Ghost and König surprises you and gives you butterflies in your stomach.
"As your body guards have said, no. Witness Protection isn't safe enough. You'll stay here in our protection. I'll organize a room for you and we'll get some clothes together so you don't have to wear the cast offs of your dubiously generous friends." You're sure that König has a possessive grin under the curtain of his mask as he looks at the shirt you wear again.
"She won't need a room. We have that handled." Ghost slides you off his lap gently and guides you toward König and the door. "The clothes would be appreciated, though. And toiletries. And anything else, Love?" You shake your head, too overwhelmed to think very hard about what you need now that you truly have nothing, not even the niqab you wore for so long.
"I'm grateful for anything right now. I have more questions for later, but-" The yawn is sudden, but not unexpected. Price nods and waves you out without a word, already typing away on his report.
Ghost hangs back for a moment. "Debrief, Captain?"
"Tomorrow. This report can't wait." He pauses, having switched back to the camera feeds. "They found one of the cameras. We will have to keep this as quiet as a church mouse if you want her safe." Ghost nods and jogs to catch up.
König, unsurprisingly, has picked up (y/n) and is carrying her with her head tucked into his shoulder. Ghost sighs, not wanting to fight König verbally, but knows they need to hash out living quarters. "So, my room?" He tries lightly.
"Nein, no. She needs to be safe. That means she needs a room none will enter. That's my room."
"Nobody goes in my room" Ghost immediately protests, only to groan when he sees Soap walk out. Soap spots the three of you and takes off quickly in the opposite direction, having intended to sneak in and back out without being seen.
"See? No one dares to enter my room. She will be safe there when we go on missions. And...I would not mind you being in my rooms. Besides, Colonels get bigger rooms." The last was a bit of an unnecessary jab, but a good point all the same.
"Fine. Your room. Just no throwing fits if Johnny shows up at the door, alright."
"No promises." König's pace falters as your stomach growls. "Verdammt! We must take care of our Schatzi better. First crying alone and now starving." Ghost chuckles as König about faces and hurries to the kitchen. "We will find you a good meal before bed."
Upon entering, Ghost pushes the two of you toward the table and quickly puts together a meal. "Luckily, I just finished eating before Roach screamed at me to get my ass over there. Seems crying women can panic most of the crew." You blush and bite your lip.
"Sorry. It was just too much." König sits you on his knee and starts trying to feed you. "I can do it myself, I promise." You grab the fork from his hand and hunch over your food, eating quickly. The men sit watching you and talking quietly as you struggle not to shove the food into your mouth. The moans you make at the taste of the food have them adjusting their pants. "Oh, this is good! I haven't had anything this good in so long!"
With your plate emptied and your stomach full, you finally sit back. König pulls you close as he stands up. "Let's go to bed, Liebling. You can sleep off your feast." Ghost cleans up quickly and the three of you leave for König's room with a quick stop at the bathroom, which luckily was empty at this late hour. Ghost stops off in his room for a moment to grab some gear and half-jogs to catch the door to König's room before it shuts, locking it behind him.
After tucking you in the giant bed, König quickly strips off all of his clothes, leaving just his mask. "Some warning before you strip down, mate," jokes Ghost. König ignores him and climbs in on the far side of the bed, wrapping an arm around you. Ghost shakes his head before taking off all but his pants, carefully folding his shirt and trousers to sit on a chair near the door. He flips off the light, climbing into bed carefully to not jostle you. "Goodnight, Love...König."
"G'nigh Ghos, Köni," you mutter, falling toward sleep quickly.
"Schöne träume, Schatz, Geist." Arms wrap around you from each side and you curl up happily between them, feeling safer than you've ever felt before in the arms of two killing machines.
You wake up to a hand gently caressing your face. The skull on Ghost's mask is the first thing to come into focus. Even though you know it has inspired fear in the heart of many men, you smile, looking deep into his eyes. He seems surprised to see you smile, but you can tell somehow that he is smiling back. "Good morning, Ghost." Behind you, a hand tightens gently on your hip. "And König."
"Good morning" they say at the same time, making you giggle. You reach out and run a finger along the edge of Ghost's mask, catching the stubble there.
"Can I touch you?"
"Yes," he breathed out as you ghost your fingers down his throat. König's hand on your hip slides up to your ribs under your shirt. Your hand continues to slide down Ghost's body, running through the coarse hair on his chest, then back up and over his arm. Goosebumps rise up in the wake of your fingers and Ghost sighs as you caress each scar and imperfection on his skin.
"C-can I kiss you?"
"Yes, Love." He leans forward and you kiss him through his mask. Ghost gently turns you toward König who also kisses you through his mask. You run your fingers along the hem on it, making him tense.
"May I?" You feel even more nervous at his nod, but steel yourself and gently lift the fabric, sliding your fingers up his neck to his cheek. The column of his neck is revealed, then his chin and finally his lips. Leaning forward, you kiss him hesitantly, melting into it when he passionately kisses you back.
"Mein Schatzi," he groans as you pull away slowly, feeling flushed. "Would you like to touch me, Liebling?" He waggles his eyebrows down at you and smirks.
"Yes, sir," you cheekily answer back, kissing your way down his neck instead of using your fingers. The long, low moan he lets out goes straight to your core, encouraging you. Ghost presses his cock against your ass and runs his hand up to your breast, struggling against your shirt. He palms it gently. In response, you kiss König's nipple, giggling as his grip on your hip tightens, encouraging you.
You kiss every scar on König's chest and arms before he turns you back toward Ghost, again. Together, they tug off your shirt and it's only when they both press against you that you realize that Ghost has taken off his pants, leaving all of you completely naked, but for the masks. Ghost slides his mask up to kiss you deeply and König lifts your thigh up to nestle his cock against your core. The head rubs directly on your clit when he presses your leg back down. He smirks as you gasp into Ghost's mouth with his first thrust between your thighs.
Ghost pulls back and slides down your body, kissing his way to your breasts. "Is this ok, Love? We can stop if it's too much."
"It's so good."
"Good, that's a green light then. If you need us to slow down or pause, that is a yellow light. And -"
"Red means stop?"
"That's right, sugar. Red means stop and we will stop and take care of you, ok?"
"Yea, don't stop. Too good." He chuckled darkly as he went back to sucking and biting at your breasts. König kept thrusting against your channel, driving you closer to an edge you've rarely visited.
"Braves Mädchen," he murmured in your ear. "Good girl." You melted against him and he changed the angle of his thrust to press against your opening, stretching you wide as he gently pushed. He paused at your whimper, gently petting your hip and wrapping his other arm around your shoulders. He pulled you tight against him without choking you.
Ghost was quick with his "Color, sugar. Tell me what your color is."
"G-green. Mehr." Your casual slip into his mother language had König kissing your shoulder as he pushed in a little more at a time. Ghost kissed you again, sliding one hand down to tease your swollen clit and whispering encouragement in your ear. König carefully stretches his way deeper, trying to let you do most of the work as you move your hips back and forth in your excitement.
When König bottoms out deep within your core, you groan. Ghost smiles against your lips. "Did your greedy little cunt take that huge prick? Attagirl. You're goin' t'cum on that cock, aren't ya?"
You nod silently, whimpering as König pulls back then pushes in deep again, his thighs clapping against your ass. "König! Fuck!" You brace against Ghost as König moves faster and harder behind you, driving toward his own orgasm. "I'm gonna cum on you, König!" Your whines and whimpers are driving him on. "I'm cumming!" König bites down on your shoulder as he cums with you. His cock throbs deep inside your core with little thrusts that grind him deeper and deeper. Your squeal and clenching sleeve make him twitch harder inside you.
"Good girl. Good girl cumming all over me," he croons. After a few moments, he pulls out and turns you onto your back to catch your breath. Ghost rubs his hands against you, still worked up. You smile up at him and pull him close. He smirks back, kissing you deeply and spreading your legs to wedge his hips between them.
"Is this ok, Love? Color?"
"Yell-no, green. Green."
He stares at you for a moment, trying to gauge your honesty. You slip your hand down to wrap around his weeping cock and gently tug him toward you. "Want you to cum, too. It feels so good." He chuckles, but abides by your wish, pulling your legs to wrap around his waist as he enters you. König caresses your body and kisses your neck as you take Ghost's cock to the hilt in one sharp thrust. From this position all three of you are able to see the bulge in your stomach when he hilts himself into you. In response, your body clenches down on him to his delight.
"Sugar, not gonna last long with you milking me," he groans. You boldly reach down and push on his cock through your skin and clench at him again. His hips stutter, then he is pounding into you and pinching your clit as punishment. You squeal and König takes advantage of your distraction to gently bite your nipple then lave it with his tongue in revenge for your earlier cheekiness. The mischievous slant of his lips tells you that is just the beginning as they work in tandem to bring you over the edge again.
Ghost suddenly leans down and bites at your earlobe. "Who's fucking you so good the whole base can hear you? Say my name, (y/n). Tell everyone how well Simon is fucking you."
"S-Simon! You're gonna make me cum! Green? Fuck...Simon!" He thrusts harder, his balls slapping against your ass as he tries to make you cum before he does.
"That's it, (y/n). Tell everyone how good it feels."
"Cumming, Simon" you shout as you squirt cum all over his cock and abs. The sudden wetness shocks you and nearly ruins your orgasm, but the look of excitement on Ghost's face when he looks down keeps you cumming.
"Attagirl. Attagirl. Gonna cum in you, Love. Gonna fill you up!" The look of bliss on his face has you more convinced than anything he could have said that he isn't disgusted by what happened in any way. He collapses down onto you, still praising you as he tries to collect himself. You brush a kiss to his temple and shyly glance over at König to see the biggest grin on his face.
"Good girl. You are perfect." You blush and pull him over to kiss you, too. When he pulls back, he pulls his mask back into place and relaxes in a boneless heap with one arm possessively wrapped around your stomach. Ghost slides off of you, half asleep already. Your giggle wakes him back up some, but the best he can do is a cheeky grin as he cuddles into your side.
It feels like just moments later there is a pounding at the door. Both men are immediately on high alert with König pushing you toward Ghost and preparing to leap out of bed. It's only the voice on the other side of the door that makes him pause.
"Simon! Simon! Answer the damn door! I need to talk to you! C'mon Simon! I know you're in there!" Soap's voice has Ghost dropping his head back onto the pillow in frustration. "Come to the door already!"
"No fuckin peace around here. Can't even enjoy the afterglow." He huffs and puffs, debating on ignoring the jackass at the door.
"Answer the door. He's here for you and clearly not going to go away. I will cuddle our Schatzi while you are gone." König sounds almost mocking as he brushes kisses across your shoulder and you gently push Ghost out of bed.
"What in the bloody hell do you want, Johnny?!" Ghost yells as he answers the door dressed in only his mask.
Soap yelps and covers his eyes, "Jesus Ghost! Put on some pants!"
"No, you pulled me out of bed with (y/n). Now you gotta deal with the consequences, ya knob." Ghost stands with his feet planted shoulder-width apart in a mock parade rest. Soap refuses to look at him, choosing to stare at the ceiling instead and thrusts a canvas bag at Ghost.
"I was just bringing by some clothes for her. Price said she needed some that actually fit and that he better not see her bare-assed running around in just König's shirt again." Having passed on the message, Soap abruptly about faces and takes off down the hall.
"Thanks, mate," Ghost calls after him as he closes the door. You blush as he turns back and says, "Well, won't be needing these anytime soon, will we?" He tosses the bag of clothes onto the chair with his clothes and jumps back into bed, his crown jewels flopping about.
König chuckles and slides out of bed. "I need to piss. I'll be back." You sigh and hold his hand loosely, trying to keep hold as he walks over to his clothes without a trace of shame in his bare body.
"I'm losing all of my cuddles," you sigh. Ghost grumbles and tucks you into his side.
"I'm back, Love. We can cuddle all day." You smile and trace a line down his chest, lazily. He growls, "Or maybe skip the cuddles and go right back to making you scream my name."
"Hurry back, Köni. I already miss you," you call as he leaves. You catch a hint of a blush around his eyes as he carefully shuts the door. Turning back to Ghost, you smile lazily.
"You're getting awfully bold for someone who had never seen a cock before yesterday. I like it, Sugar." He kisses your forehead and relaxes against you. "I'm happy to share you with that giant if it means cuddles whenever we are home."
Your sigh catches him off guard. "I don't know how one of the worst days of my life led to this, but I don't think I've ever been happier and more contented than I am right now, Simon." Hearing his name, his real name, sends a shiver down his spine.
"When König comes back, let's get you dressed and have some breakfast... well, probably lunch by now, sugar." You can feel his grin under the mask and nod sleepily.
"Food sounds good. Very... good..." Your voice trails off as you start to drift to sleep. Ghost jostles you gently.
"Nuh uh, sleep after food or you'll wake up feeling sick with hunger. C'mon up ya get. König has a surprisingly too comfortable bed. And I honestly don't think I have ever seen one this big."
From the doorway, there is a deep laugh. "That's what she said. I abuse my body too much on missions to sleep on a shit bed, though. Let's see what Soap brought, hmm?" König dumps the clothes out onto the bed, quickly sorting out a set of clothes for you. "Here, (y/n). Put these on and I'll air out the bed a bit. Can't sleep on sweaty sheets." Ghost practically dragged you onto your feet before going to get his own clothes on.
"I hate these clothes," you mutter to yourself, grimacing as you pull the shirt over your head.
"Why's that, Schatzi? I hate to see you cover yourself up, but why would you hate them?" You blush, having not intended for them to hear your griping.
"They smell like other people. I don't like when my clothes smell weird," your petulant tone belies your deep discomfort with the perfume-scented clothes. "I have no idea where or who Soap got these from, but they smell... gross."
"Easily fixed, my Love." Ghost gently pulls you into a hug and rubs his body all over yours. "Your turn, König," Ghost says as he shuffles you into his arms. König happily rubs you with his hands, then picks you up and squeezing your ass, grinds you against himself.
"Yes, that is an easy fix," he says with a gleam in his eyes. You huff, but can't hide your grin as he sets you back on your feet. "Let's go eat, Liebling. Then, we can eat you later." You duck your head and groan, realizing how much König loves his double-entendres.
"Don't worry, Love. I won't use dirty innuendos to make you blush in front of everyone." Ghost whispering in your ear has you biting back a moan. "I'll just say dirty things in your ear so you blush and fidget over things no one else can hear and hope no one else overhears."
"Kommen, you two. Time to eat before we get called to attention again." You giggle at König's teasing and caught up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. The smile you flash back to Ghost is full of promise. The sharp look in his eyes in return sends a shiver through you.
#konig x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost x könig x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost cod#könig x reader#size difference
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Text
Title: Due Diligence
Pairing: Minotaur!Thor x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Monsterfucking, Size-Kink, Minors DNI!
a/n: i’m coming back to re-claim my title as “Queen of the Monsterfuckers” 🫣 “Dóron mou” means “my gift”. please enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics
As you stare breathlessly up into the dark you wonder briefly if you are awake, or if this too is a dream. Above you, the gems embedded in the distant cavern roof wink like stars. The greedy sound of your lover between your legs brings you crashing back down into your body, his thick, calloused fingers digging into the meat of your hips.
“Watch, dóron mou,” Thor mumbles against you, dragging his wide, flat tongue through your slick folds. He repeats himself firmly. “Watch.” His massive palms span almost the length of your thighs, and he kneads them possessively, cutting his eyes at you from between your legs.
You force yourself to focus on him, dragging your bleary, tear filled eyes down to his.As a reward, Thor rolls your swollen, overstimulated nub between his teeth. You squeal in response, bucking agains his face.
“Good.”
One hand scrabbles for purchase on the stone ledge beneath you, the other sinking into his soft blond hair. You rock against him, unable to help yourself as he chuckles.
“My greedy little present,” he hums, and you feel his lips curve as he laps again at your clit. “Greedy…” he trails off as you whine, your thighs tighten around his head. You card your fingers through his sandy hair, gripping his horns with both hands as you rock against his face.
Slowly, he lowers you back down to the ledge, cradling you like a doll against his massive chest. He dwarfs you easily, looming over your limp body as he inspects the sticky mess between your thighs.
You twitch and mewl when he drags his fingers through your sloppy cunt, and he hums softly, a smile curling at the edges of his mouth.
“Th-Thor,” you hiccough his name pathetically as he cups your chin, drawing his thumb across your trembling lower lip.
“What is it, Pet?” He asks, his blue eyes deceptively soft as he swirls his fingers around your clit. “Tell me.”
“P-please, I w-want—” You stumble over them clumsily, the words sticking together on your tongue.
“Oh dóron mou,” Thor croons, stamping one hoof against the stone in anticipation. “I know what it is you want.” You squeal as he presses against you, the thick, leaking head of his cock pressing hungrily into your belly. Though you have seen it before, you cannot help but peek down at the space between your bodies.
His torso is that of a man, still—mostly, the downy brown fur that covers his legs beginning just below his navel, growing thickly between his powerful thighs. His cock springs frol a dark tuft of fur, so thick around the base you couldn’t touch your thumb to your forefinger—something you had learned from experience.
A tremor of anticipation passes through you, and Thor’s nostrils flare.
“Come, my little gift. Let me feel you.” With one massive hand on your belly, Thor positions himself between your thighs, spreading them wide to accommodate the size of his hips. He presses himself against your cunt, groaning softly as he drags himself back and forth through your sticky folds. The head of his cock presses hard against your clit, and still more stars burst in front of your lidded eyes.
“So wet for me,” he murmurs, his hips bucking as his eyes go wide with pleasure. His hands tighten around your hips as he moves against you. “I wonder…”
You are not left without explanation for long, gasping as his cock presses against your entrance. You gape up at him, wide eyed as he begins to press forward. The burning stretch of his entry brings tears to your eyes. They track down your cheeks as you gurgle up at him, drawing red lines down his chest and with your nails.
You’re so full you’re drowning in him, gasping for breath as the tide of sensation drags you under. It’s so sharp it borders on pain, the pleasure tearing up your spine to burst over your skin in waves. Thor leans over you to stroke at your sweaty face with gentle fingers, his own eyes fever bright as he grins down at you smugly.
“I told you we would fit, Pet.” He swallows your breathless gasp of pleasure eagerly, and you taste yourself on his lips. “It just took a little… diligence.”
😈
#chris hemsworth#chris hemsworth fanfiction#thor odinson#thor odinson fic#thor odinson imagine#thor odinson smut#thor odinson x reader#thor odinson x you#thor x reader#thor x you#thor smut#thor au#AU#boxofbonesfic#boxofbones drabbles#bones drabble#minotaur au
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