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#this is what happens when you learn to feel your feelings as they come up
lovifie · 3 days
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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.
CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷
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It's not his fault, it's yours. 
He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 
But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 
It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 
During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 
Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.
But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”
He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 
Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 
He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 
More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 
But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 
He missed you. 
He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 
Maybe.
“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 
He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 
But he sees you.
The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 
Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 
“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”
You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 
“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 
“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”
There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.
“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”
“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 
He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 
This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 
But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 
And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 
“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.
And he knows it's you. 
It gotta be. 
And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.
“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 
He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”
“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 
“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 
“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”
“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 
And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 
The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.
Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 
Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 
And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 
The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.
“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”
To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.
And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 
Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 
And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 
Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 
And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 
And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.
Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 
He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 
The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 
And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 
The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 
Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 
You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 
“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 
A son.
He had a son. 
He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 
He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.
And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.
He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.
The happiest night of his life. 
He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 
And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 
Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 
His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 
So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it.��
And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 
“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”
Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 
“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”
“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 
More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 
But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 
“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”
The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 
“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”
And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 
“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”
And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 
You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”
You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 
“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 
He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 
“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.
“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.
“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 
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Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 
Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 
“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”
He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.
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Taglist:
@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z 
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@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121  @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  
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@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat 
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@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting 
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@katreintjie @sacvh @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr 
@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt 
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incognit0slut · 1 day
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Stress Relief
You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer
Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘
A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.
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You could tell something was off. 
A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air. 
"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"
Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.
"Babe?"
His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"
When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.
Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.
"Bad day at work?"
He slowly nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want a hug?"
He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.
"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"
You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.
Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.
"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"
His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" 
"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."
You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"
Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control? 
He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.
But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now. 
So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."
He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."
"What makes you think I need help?"
"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."
Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"
"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."
"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.
"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."
His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze. 
"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."
“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."
"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused." 
You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.
"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."
His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."
The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.
"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."
You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"
There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.
“I… I don't understand."
"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."
"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.
You swallowed hard.
"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."
He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.
"And what if I do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I know what I want."
He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"
You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."
His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."
You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."
He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.
"I want to see how far you'll go for me."
Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"
A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."
"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."
His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.
A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.
"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"
You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 
"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.
With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.
“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.
“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."
Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.
You wanted him to use your body.
“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”
His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.
His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. 
He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."
You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.
"Do I make myself clear?"
You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."
His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room. 
With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.
You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt. 
Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.
He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.
Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."
Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.
The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.
His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.
The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.
You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.
Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.
"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”
You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.
"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."
Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. 
You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.
For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.
"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.
He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?" 
"Pl-Please touch me."
He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"
You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."
His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"
"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit. 
"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.
His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.
Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you. 
Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.
He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.
You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head.  But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.
"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"
He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one." 
How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.
Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.
His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.
Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.
It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.
He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds. 
You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.
"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."
Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.
"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"
You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"
Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you. 
And you liked it.
"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."
He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.
You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.
He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.
Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.
"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."
You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.
Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.
He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.
Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.
His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.
You were instantly gone.
A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his. 
“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.
He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.
Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.
You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor. 
After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.
“Are you okay?"
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""
"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."
"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.
"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach. 
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."
Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.
Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."
His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."
A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"
You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."
You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin. 
"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."
You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."
He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"
"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”
"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"
His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?" 
You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."
His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."
You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"
"I think we both need that nice warm bath."
You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"
He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you? 
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
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nuitfilms · 3 days
Text
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝓥𝐈𝐄𝐖 ] anatchaya suputhipong
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␥ g!p natty x fem!reader ␥ 963 words 🚨 SMUT, praise, unprotected, hair pulling, potential exhibitionism/public, college!au, creampie, squirting ␥ you, the quiet student who minds her own business, gets persuaded to follow one of your problematic peers to the school rooftop.
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One thing about being the ‘quiet one’ is that you’re a fly on the wall to people’s conversations. Being the one who barely says a word allows you a peek into everyone else’s business.
Which is how you’re aware of the chaos and drama that happens between a group of two-faced nepo babies or two supposed ‘best friends’ where one is trying to take the other’s boyfriend away.
The drama proves that no one can be trusted, and that it’s best to mind your own business, learn the material, and graduate. But who knew that minding your own business could still lead you to trouble.
Natty, one of the many problematic peers you try to avoid, had approached you at the beginning of the week. As friendly as she was, you internally questioned why she would talk to you now when she has been in at least one class with you every semester. Nonetheless, you were certain that she just wanted to copy your work, and you couldn’t care enough to fight her off on it.
Except she didn’t want to copy off of you.
In fact, she didn’t want anything school-related from you.
A shallow thrust of her cock from behind pries your dripping cunt open and forces your chest up against the hard wall that you’re pinned against. You don’t know how you let her convince you to come up to the rooftop where any student could hear and see you but here you are, wrapped around Natty’s finger with your soiled panties tucked away in her pocket.
You whimper when she tugs at your hair, forcing your head back. Her laughter sends a chill down your spine as you’ve fallen prey to an attractive girl’s advances, but getting tangled up in bad business might—for once—be something you won’t regret. 
Clearly, because you’re no longer trying to escape.
“What a beauty.” Her breathy remarks fan over your neck, goosebumps pricking your sensitive skin. “I’ve always wanted to feel what it’s like being inside you.”
Her grip on your roots tighten, igniting a sense of pain and pleasure that threatens to buckle your knees and fall at her mercy. 
You’ve never thought of such a thing about anyone. You will acknowledge hot and beautiful women but never intended to jump on anyone for a piece of them. You’ve certainly never thought that anyone saw you in the same light. You may not be as observant as you thought you were.
But Natty gives off the vibe of someone who doesn’t stick around and makes moves on multiple women. You fully expect to be one of her many conquests, therefore not caring that this may be your only experience with her. You’re simply here in the moment, reveling in the way her cock makes you feel like there’s not enough room to spare. 
In the midst of the heat, she slides out, filling you with momentary despair as she spins you around to face her. With your back to the wall, she raises your leg over her shoulder. Your flexibility somehow exists and is tested but with lust still burning in the pit of your belly, you don’t feel any discomfort. Your ample wetness grants her cock easy access and you heave a relieved sigh as she resumes fucking you.
“What a pretty girl,” she boasts with a smirk as her pace tests your balance. “So pretty dripping for me like this.”
The mess between your thighs can’t be denied. After coming once on her fingers, you can feel another impending wave in the distance. Natty has acquired enough experience—be it through various women or a lot of alone time—to know how to touch you and make you come. You can sense the rise of her ego as your noises become louder and more frequent. With your cunt threatening to resist her, she’s fucking you harder, knocking your back against the hard wall with each thrust of her hips.
“Na-Natty,” you whine, one hand clawing on the back of your thigh and the other digging into the wall behind you for balance. 
Your legs begin trembling. The earth is taunting you below, ready to cushion a hard descent from the ecstasy that’s rushing through your limbs. Your eyes roll back as her thumb sneaks between both of your hips and flicks over your engorged clit. Just as you’re about to let out a shamelessly loud moan, the door to the rooftop slams open on the other side.
You immediately slap a hand over your mouth, but Natty doesn’t stop. She only grins and drills you harder. Whatever thought that crossed your mind is fucked out of you, and you suffer in the presence of your oblivious peers as you gush around her cock. You’re ready to slide down the wall but she keeps you propped up and uses you to her desire.
Each thrust forces spurts of your cum out, leaving your thighs and the cold hard ground in a messy puddle of your release. Your eyelids flutter open and you spectate Natty’s orgasm. Her hips stutter after she bottoms out inside you, stuffing you with a shallow thrust. Warmth floods your insides and your eyes roll back as she forces you to take it all in.
“God,” she grunts against your chest.
You hope that your peers don’t hear from the other side of the rooftop. That they don’t catch on to the ‘quiet one’ getting her brains fucked out by one of the sociable, troublemaking ones.
If word were to spread, you would have no choice but to transfer schools. But if that bridge needs to be crossed, you’ll do so when you get there. 
For now, you simply accept the white hot release that’s flooding and dripping out of you.
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emeraldborealis · 1 day
Text
Grotesque
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FEM!reader
TW//CW: DARK FIC, stalking, vibes of somnophilia ish, sexual harassment, nonconsensual touching, threats, mention of cannibalism but no cannibalism, threatened necrophilia, a creep calls reader a whore, murder, graphic depictions of gore, blood, shock induced mania, talk of human taxidermy, no use of y/n. Dead dove do not eat. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.
Words: 4,641
A/N: Now you may be wondering, Emerald, what the actual hell is this? Well, I wanted to know if I could still write dark fics. And I thought it was time to remind everyone this started as a horror writing blog.
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STOP! Have you heeded the warnings on this fic?
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People say something special happens when you fall in love, that suddenly everything else doesn't matter. That there's a warmth and gentleness that grows inside of you towards the other person.
But not for Ghost.
Ghost doesn't deal in warm gentleness. Simon did, but Simon is dead and buried in Mexico.
When Ghost saw you he did feel something sudden, an urge to keep everyone else away from you, an urge to protect, an urge to keep and shepherd. 
So he did.
From a distance he kept his eye on you, watched you go through your days, completely unsuspecting. Or so he thought.
You knew he was there, you knew from day one. Knowing he was there was more of a comfort than a fear, so when the sound of your front door opening in the middle of the night came to your ears you were more than content to pretend you were still asleep.
Keeping your breathing even and deep, keeping your expression neutral, letting nothing tip him off to the fact you were awake was a skill you learned in your youth, one you needed to survive the house you grew up in.
You were lonely, and you were alright with him taking advantage of that. You wanted him in your life because there was nothing else in your life. A phantom, a ghost willing to watch over you. Something that stayed in the dark, content with silent control.
His footsteps were light coming down the hall, almost silent, if you weren't listening for him you wouldn't have heard him. You wondered how many times he'd come and you hadn't woken up.
Hearing him pause in the hallway you imagined him looking at your photos, committing them all to memory, each one of their locations and if they were perfectly level or not. You knew he'd take in every detail before moving on, he just seemed like the type.
Your door used to make noise when it opened, but a month back it suddenly stopped. A reminder of his silent presence ever lingering, you often wondered if he'd fixed other things for the convenience of his watching, of his sneaking.
Nothing was allowed to jeopardize his stalking, nothing was allowed to tip you off to his presence. Nothing was allowed to give you evidence to stop him.
Listening, you heard him move silently through your room, coming to stand beside your bed, your acting was imperceivable, especially when you weren't looking for it.
You didn't react when the soft feeling of a gloved hand trailed over your face, the glove was rough, but he used it gently, kept his touch featherlight, barely even there.
His hand went from your face down your exposed arm, feeling the lovely skin of your appendage sticking out of the blankets for the sake of regulating your body temperature. The feeling nearly made gooseflesh blossom on your skin, nearly made you shudder. Do sleeping people shudder? Looking into that could be good for future visits from your stalker.
You felt his figure lean over you, breathing you in like a bad habit, when he was satisfied he moved from your side of the bed to the other side. Gently, he laid himself down, stiff as a board laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. You were familiar with this routine by now.
He laid like a corpse, his hands clasped together over his chest. He never did more than this, never touched, never hurt. He just laid beside you for a few hours before leaving just as silently as he came, always making sure to whisper 'sweet dreams' to you before leaving hours before your alarm for work would blare into your room.
Every once and a while you would dare to put your arm over him, sometimes he moved your arm gently off of him, sometimes he let it stay.
Sometimes he watches you sleep, either facing you in bed or sitting in your desk chair.
You wished you understood him, understood why he does the things he does. Wish you understood why he didn't do certain things.
He really was a ghost, your Ghost. A mystery you weren't sure you'd ever figure out.
Rolling onto your back you flopped your arm on him, not holding him, just touching him, testing him. He didn't remove your arm this night, he let it stay, resting right above where his hands were.
You had no clue what he looked like, not really. The few times you dared a peak he was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. But you'd grown familiar with how he breathed, the rise and fall of his large chest. That was what mattered to you, not his face. Not who he was under the skull.
Feeling him beside you didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel nauseating or dangerous. He had the capability to do harm, but he'd never left any indication that was his intention. He just seemed interested in watching you live your life. Why? You didn't know.
Sometimes you thought about what would happen if he decided to have malicious intent, how far he might go. What he might do. He was a strange man stalking you, and you were letting him. 
You were just asking to be an episode on a true crime podcast, solved or unsolved? What would it be? You suspected unsolved, even if you lived.
If he killed you how would he do it? It was interesting to think about. Would he hack you into pieces? String you apart, pull at your nervous system. Dissect you like a frog. Maybe he'd fillet you, hang you up and eat you. Or perhaps he'd take it slower, break your ankles and watch you starve to death helpless on the floor, he did like to watch you.
If he hurt you, if he touched you, he'd want to watch you as he did it. He'd want to see your face as it contorted into pain.
Really at the end of the day he was a man, no different from any other, you were risking just as much being around him as any other man. At least you believed if he witnessed another man trying to attack you he'd intervene, protect his territory.
His belongings.
Did he see himself as your keeper? Or more like a guard dog? What were his intentions here? Why was he this little shadow in your life? It seemed like he was always there, a force that lingered around you.
Your Ghost, something that was becoming a more common name for him in your mind. It seemed fitting.
To say you weren't attached to him would be a lie, he's grown on you, something consistent, something you could make yourself believe was there to be good for you. You were becoming just as infatuated with him as he seemed to be with you.
You were comfortable falling asleep beside him, letting him stay as long as he wanted before leaving. He always locked the door on his way out, after all, he was the only one allowed to creep into your home.
Shifting in bed you got more comfortable, you needed to let yourself fall back asleep if you wanted to be able to function well at work tomorrow. Your Ghost paid no mind to your shifting, he's watched you sleep in actuality and faking it enough to believe he'll never get caught. Not knowing he already has been.
At some point in the night you vaguely feel the bed shift, faintly hear his deep voice whisper something in your ear, and his soft footsteps as he leaves.
In the morning there was no trace of him, nothing tipping you off to the fact he was ever even there, nothing but your memory.
You dreaded your arrival at work, dreaded seeing him. 
Brian.
A creep in HR, you would have reported him by now but he was who you would file those reports to. You didn't know who else to file a report to, nothing was serious enough for police intervention. 
At least there was no evidence serious enough for police intervention.
Sometimes you hoped your Ghost knew about him, that he was watching your back, though you doubted he watched you at work. Still, the thought of him handling this was not unwelcome. You took a strange comfort in it actually.
Brian was not welcome in your life, he was pushy, touchy, didn't understand boundaries. Something about him gave you the heebie-jeebies, like he was doing all sorts of nefarious things to you in his mind, planning them out, waiting to execute them.
You hated how he watched you, he was doing more than just undressing you with his eyes. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he wanted to do more to your skin than just molest it. Do more than possess and sink under your surface.
He looked to covet. Your Ghost looked to encroach and observe.
You liked how your Ghost watched you, like a guard dog willing to be sicked on anyone, to be your defense, to get them off of you, to keep them away from you.
"Come on, doll. When are you going to agree to come over? Let me pour you a drink, I promise I can mix you up something you'll like. Or at least let me drive you home sometime, there's no need to take the train when it's raining. Don't want you catching a cold." Brian cooed to you, walking with you as you made your way to the elevator, he always waited for you.
You'd only step into the elevator with him when it was crowded, otherwise you'd wait, make an excuse and talk to the lady at the front desk until you saw someone you knew would go up to your floor or above.
You refused to be alone with him. Not even for a second.
"I don't drink. And I like the rain." You shot him down, trying to step around him, but his arm caught your waist, stopping you.
"Okay, how about we watch a movie? Play a game?" He gave your waist a squeeze, testing your patience. He was a persistent man who believed he would get what he wanted. You wondered how many times he had. How many girls came before you.
"I'm not interested." Spinning out of his hold you continued walking towards the elevator, a good group of people already waiting.
"Come on, doll. I'll make it worth your time." He trailed after you.
You didn't like the thought that he had access to your address, that he might know where you lived, that all he'd have to do to figure it out is look at your personal records.
"I have a boyfriend. We're serious, he stays the night almost every night. I'm not interested." A small lie, laced with truth, you did have a man who stays the night. Your Ghost. You needed him to know you weren't alone at night.
There was a warning light in your brain that was starting to predict something. Something was coming. How does the quote go? 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'
Something was coming, something you were not sure how to stop. You were in terrible danger, you could feel it in the way his hands defiled you with their touch. Scorching and burning with how atrocious it was.
"That's alright, I just want to spend time with you. Nothing serious." Everyday he grew more bold. A predator closing in on their prey.
You were not going to be a boiled frog, you knew when this started, and you know the temperature is rising to dangerous peaks.
How many girls has he done this to?
How many.
"I don't think my boyfriend would like that, he's protective." Joining the others waiting on the elevator you watched the floor indicator, nearly holding your breath waiting for it to reach ground level.
"Protective? I'm no danger." Leaning in closer he whispered in your ear, careful now that you were surrounded by people. No witnesses. No one else could hear his persistence, it might one day arise suspicion.
"I like to spend time with him when I'm off work. I'm a busy person." You took a breath as the elevator doors opened, stepping inside with everyone else.
"We'll talk more about this later. I just want to get to know the next employee of the month better." His voice was sickeningly charming, his words derailing your train of thought.
"What?" You hadn't heard anything about that, you weren't even super important in your department. He was baiting you with reward. Setting himself up as innocent, someone who was rooting for you. A devastated work friend when he hears of your inevitable disappearance.
He played this game too well.
How many girls came before?
How many times has he gotten away with this?
"I pulled some strings, got you some well earned recognition. We need to celebrate it." His smile was all teeth, unnatural. It was a threat.
You really couldn't tell anyone about this now, not after he's painted himself as the good guy. Just trying to get employee's recognition. You'd sound like an ungrateful asshole. No one would listen.
No one would listen.
"Today, we will celebrate today." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. 
Whatever he was planning, whatever he was going to do to you, he was going to do it today. Nothing was going to stop him or get in his way. He was coming for you, going for the throat. 
You worked in paranoia and unease, took an early lunch just to avoid any possibility of running into him and completely left the building, went to a very public place for lunch. Didn't even pay attention to what you ordered, not even sure you paid before walking away. You got your food though, so someone paid.
In your panicked state you were struggling to pay any attention to the people around you, only looking for one person in the crowds of people. But he wasn't there. Brian wasn't there. Not that you could see.
Running into someone on your way to the door out of the restaurant you apologize, catching his eyes, they were brown. He was tall, well built. Dirty blonde. He oozed an energy that settled you, like your body knew him. Of course it didn't, you'd never seen this man in your life. There was just something about him.
"No worries, love." You couldn't shake your feeling of deja vu hearing his voice. "Keep your head on straight, no ones goin' to get you."
What an odd thing to say to a stranger.
"Um, thanks." You didn't know what else to say. How else to respond. You stand in front of him a moment more, awkwardly looking at him. There was just something about him you couldn't place. 
Checking the time you turned to walk away, you were going over your thirty minute lunch break. You needed to get back to work. Even if you'd rather have your eyes gouged out than have the possibility to run into Brian ever again. 
You were jumpy the rest of the work day, hypervigilant to everything around you. It wasn't atypical for Brian to interrupt your work, but he didn't come to bother you today. 
You tried to leave work early to avoid him, but he was already waiting for you when you reached the main floor. 
"I missed you at lunch today." There was something sinister in his eyes, something that didn't match his tone of forced pleasantry. "No matter. We'll go to that new pub tonight. We can meet there or I will pick you up." It was a threat, a subtle way to make sure you knew he knew where you lived. That he would come for you if you tried to skip out on him.
You'd rather he come to your house. Maybe your faithful watchdog would step in, maybe he'd help you. Maybe he'd stop him. Protect what's his. 
If not, you'd rather have whatever's going to happen, happen somewhere you know. Somewhere you've once felt safe. You'd rather die surrounded by your memories than wherever he'd take you, somewhere probably cold and unfeeling. 
"Okay." You had nothing else to say, rejection wouldn't work. This wasn't ever going to be a date, this was always going to be an assault. 
You were scared. A cornered animal with no way out. Despite your best efforts the water was starting to boil, and you had let it happen. 
Getting home didn't calm your nerves, it almost made them worse. Waiting for the arrival of the beast, waiting to be devoured, bones and all. 
Is this how the spring lambs feel? Screaming as they go down the line to the slaughter. All just to satisfy a man's hunger. 
Is that all women are good for? Satisfying men's hunger, lust, need for violence. Has it always been this way? Women are fucked and murdered. Will they ask what you were wearing? Blame the victim like they always do. 
Like they always do.
Maybe this would have eventually happened with your Ghost too, maybe this was just how the world works. Maybe men just have that right.
It was inevitable, unpreventable. 
It was late when the knock finally came, the sun long gone. There was nothing, no one who would shine a light on what was about to happen. Only the women with their podcasts will ever wonder what really happened to you. What led to this. 
Making eye contact with your front door only death stared back. Wicked wasn't coming. Wicked was here upon you, waiting for you to open the door for it to come in and take you. 
The knock came again, like the toll of a bell. Ringing through your ears like a sick mantra. There was no way out of this. There was nothing you could do.
Your feet shuffled towards the door, it was like walking down death row. 
The bell tolls for you. 
There was a hope inside of you that you'd open the door to your Ghost, that he's come to save you. That you could let in your stalker rather than your murderer. 
Grasping your doorknob felt like grabbing red hot metal, scorching and branding your skin, the last thing that would probably ever have your full set of fingerprints. 
You wondered if you'd fight, if you'd fight to survive or if you'd let him kill you.
It's a strange feeling, coming face to face with your mortality. 
Slowly you twisted the doorknob, letting the devil in. 
"I knew you'd let me in." The door was pushed open, pushing you back, removing your last barrier. Bringing you face to face with Brian. "A whore like you was probably just waiting for a guy like me to come along. You wanted this. Didn't you? You want me to ravage you, don't you? So needy."
He was clutching his stomach, he was bleeding. He'd been stabbed. 
You couldn't make sense of it. Was it your Ghost? Where was he now? Was he dead? Did he try to stop this? 
Brian reached for you, making you stumble back, out of his grasp. 
"Don't." Your feet wouldn't take you farther, they wouldn't let you run away. They'd take you right where he couldn't reach you, but they wouldn't let you get away. 
Maybe you did want this. Maybe every girl wanted this. Maybe that's why men thought it was okay.
"Come on, don't be like that. I know I kept you waiting but I got held up." He took a step closer, stalking towards you. "You'll look so good with the others."
No.
You didn't want this. You never wanted this. No one ever wanted this. 
This wasn't right.
He didn't have the right.
Your mind was flittering, it was hard to make it work, hard to force yourself to stay present. It's always been hard to make it work in situations like this, it hurts less when you just let yourself get hurt. But you didn't want to be hurt anymore. 
"Don't touch me." You took another step back, he was blocking the front door, but you could get out the back. Maybe someone will help you, maybe your neighbors will let you in.
"Come on, you knew it'd always come to this. I'm taking you home." You should have done more, should have opened the door with a knife. Should have been ready for him.
"No. You're not." Turning you ran, struggling with the backdoor for a moment in your adrenaline and panic, but you got it open. Slipping out you held down a scream, it wouldn't help you right now to lose your mind screaming. You needed to get away.
You didn't get far before he was on you.
Hands pushed you down to the ground, flipping you on your back, his hands found purchase on your neck, pulling you up before bashing you down, knocking the wind out of you. "A pretty doll like you would be better stuffed, skin perfectly preserved and taxidermied. Of course it would be better if I could have killed you without leaving damage, your bastard friend made sure that couldn't be a possibility. He got his, and you'll get yours."
Hands squeezed at your throat, the pressure in your head overwhelming, your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. Maybe that would help with the pressure.
"I'll separate your head from your body, that will take care of these marks. I'll figure something out for the rest of the damage. But don't worry, I'll turn you into a work of art. You'll be the prettiest out of them all." 
Wrestling with your panicking body he slotted himself between your legs to continue to choke you, pressing uncomfortably into you. A promise of what would come once you stopped moving.
You were going to die. He was going to kill you.
You were going to die.
Your hands desperately reached out, searching. Searching for anything that could help you. This couldn't be it, he couldn't do this. You couldn't die.
Finding a large rock you took hold of it with all your might, bashing it against his head, making him fall limp on top of you, blood from his head soaking into your hair, his face partially on yours.
His open mouth wreaked of Benson & Hedges cigarettes and tooth rot, saliva leaking onto your cheek. Pushing with all your might you shoved him off, adrenaline didn't allow for your hand to relax enough to drop your rock, the veins in your arms rising to the surface.
When his face scrunched and his body twitched you could hear a scream. Was that you? You didn't know anymore. Your body moved without prompt, bashing him again. And again, and again.
You hardly flinched as the blood peppered your skin, drops of crimson spraying your face. You bashed to the symphony of bones cracking, it was the only thing you could hear, the only thing filling your ears, and yet you continued, bashing until the rock in your hands was hard to hold, slippery and covered in red and grey matter.
You bashed until you felt the rock connect with the damp grass through where his face once was, nothing recognizable left of his head, nothing but the skull fragments and brain matter. Everything else was unidentifiable.
Horror and shock filled you at the sight, he wasn't dead was he? He couldn't be. He can't be dead. He wasn't a person who was dead, so he couldn't be dead.
Desperately you felt for a pulse on his neck. You didn't find one. As a last ditch effort you checked the hole of his stab wound in his stomach. It was warm. He was still warm.
He was okay. He was alright. Dead people aren't warm.
But that warmth meant he wasn't done, he wasn't done killing you, he hadn't succeeded yet. The thought made you scream. He wasn't done with you.
He hadn't succeeded yet, and he was supposed to succeed, that was his goal wasn't it? He couldn't fail. You couldn't have stopped him, you weren't capable of that. You were just a girl. You didn't have that right.
You needed more of his warmth, needed it coating you. Needed him to finish his task. His warmth was proof he would.
Searching for more you pressed your fingers inside, warmth squishing around your fingers, it felt good. Familiar almost. A familiar squelch. 
It was what you needed. More. More. More.
Wriggling your fingers inside you tested the limits of the wound, it wouldn't stretch farther, you couldn't get to more of his warmth.
But you needed more.
Getting fingers in from both hands you searched for grip through the unending amounts of red liquid around your hands.
Finding it you pulled, tearing it apart, the feeling of ripping flesh a rewarding feeling.
You were getting more, getting to the warmth. 
Your digits were digging now, puncturing into his gut, ripping and tearing, pulling out viscera and entrails. Blood perfectly coated the scene, coated you, painting an elegant picture in rouge, and most importantly, warmth.
There was a need, a desire, this couldn't be over yet, he couldn't be done yet. He wasn't done yet. You weren't dead yet, so he wasn't done.
Something pulled tight around your neck, a scarf of the small intestine, wrapping, suffocating. Pulled this tight it almost felt like his hands lovingly around your neck once more, crushing your windpipe. This was that beautiful feeling you were looking for, this was what you needed.
He wasn't done, he hadn't finished yet. You weren't dead yet, but now he could finish, now his slick warmth could finish the job.
Pulling tighter on the two ends of the thin warm viscera that same pressure in your skull was building again, a fuzziness in your vision. You couldn't breathe. It was perfect.
You needed more.
Pulling harder the scarf tightened, it wasn't enough yet, you needed to pull tighter, harder.
With the grotesque sound of tearing the pressure around your neck was gone. Air now filling your lungs in gasps, a burning feeling accompanying each inhale.
Looking down you were still holding the intestine, now in two pieces, the fluids from inside of it making your skin irritated and itchy.
He'd failed. Again.
Hearing a sound from behind you didn't startle you, turning your head your eyes met the hollow eyes of your Ghost, the white of his skull balaclava nearly glowing in the dark. "I broke him." You mumbled, disappointed, presenting the two ends of his guts to him. "You would have finished the job, right? You wouldn't have broke?"
"Of course, love." Crouching beside you he wiped the blood on your check. "I wouldn't break on you like 'e did."
"He wasn't done. He was supposed to kill me. And now he's just a mess. A useless mess. And I'm covered in him." Tears fell from your eyes, your voice whining out of your sore throat.
"Don't cry, you're perfect." Your Ghost pulled the intestine from your hands, letting it fall onto the heap of Brian's unidentifiable carcass. "Come on now, let's get you cleaned up."
The feeling of his arms slipping around your back and under your knees wasn't repulsive like it was when Brian would touch you, your Ghost's touch wasn't nauseating.
Hoisting you up your Ghost carried you away from the scene. "But what about the mess here?"
"I've called people who will come take care of it, I 'ave connections. The police will get involved, 'is victims families deserve to know what 'appened to them. But nothin' bad will happen to you. You'll be just fine. I'll make sure of it. I'm takin' care of you now, love. There's nothin' to worry about." His voice was soothing, the nose of his skull balaclava pressing against your temple. "I've got you now."
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cc--2224 · 3 days
Text
I'll Show You Heaven
Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader
Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.
Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair
Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Word Count: ~6.4k
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
Masterlist
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It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 
You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.
You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.
You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 
He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 
And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 
You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.
"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"
You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 
Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 
He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 
"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 
"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.
"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?
Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 
Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.
You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 
Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 
"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.
"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."
The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.
You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.
He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 
"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.
You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 
You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.
He hummed in response.
"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.
"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.
— — —
“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.
Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.
“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”
“Again,” Tech chimed in.
“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 
“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 
His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”
The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.
Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 
“No promises.”
He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.
This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.
But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 
The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 
Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 
He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 
He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 
He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.
He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 
As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 
This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.
He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.
But would it be so bad if you did? 
— — —
Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 
Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 
He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 
"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.
He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."
He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."
You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."
Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."
"Did the Reg apologize to you?"
"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.
"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.
"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."
He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."
Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.
"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 
"Crosshair." 
You smirked then told him yours. 
"Where's the rest of your squad today?"
"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."
He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.
You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.
"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 
You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.
Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.
You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 
You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.
— — —
Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 
It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.
You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 
"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.
"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."
He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.
"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."
He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 
Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.
You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.
He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.
"What are you doing?" 
"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."
He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."
"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.
"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.
"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."
He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."
"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."
"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.
"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”
He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.
“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.
He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.
“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.
He walked back over to you, “Of course.”
He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.
"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.
"You sure?" 
You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.
He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.
He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.
"Make yourself at home." You told him.
He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 
"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 
You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.
"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."
He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  
"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"
"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."
You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.
"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.
"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 
You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 
His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.
"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.
"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”
His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 
He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.
Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 
Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.
His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.
His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.
"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 
You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 
You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.
He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.
"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."
His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."
"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."
"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 
You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 
When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.
He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 
When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.
He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.
"Come here," you said, your voice low.
He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.
"Closer." You breathed. 
He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.
"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.
"Yes, please, Crosshair." 
He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.
You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 
He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.
He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.
Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.
"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.
"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.
"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 
His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.
His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.
"Say it again." He said against your centre.
"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.
"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.
"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.
He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.
You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.
You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.
"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 
He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.
His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.
"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."
He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.
Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.
"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."
His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.
It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.
He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.
He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.
“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.
He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 
“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”
His cock twitched against his jeans.
“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.
“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 
Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 
You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.
“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.
Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.
You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.
“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.
You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 
You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”
Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 
“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 
“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.
You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.
He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 
You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 
“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 
You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 
You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.
His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.
“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 
You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.
“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 
You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 
He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.
He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 
“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 
You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.
His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 
“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 
His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.
His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.
“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 
He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.
You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.
“You gonna be good for me?” 
He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.
“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.
Heaven. 
That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 
Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 
You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 
“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 
He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 
You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.
“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.
“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 
You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 
His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 
“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.
His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.
“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.
“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”
You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.
“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 
He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.
“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”
The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.
“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”
“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 
His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.
“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.
He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.
Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 
“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 
You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.
“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.
“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.
“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.
“Please.” 
He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.
“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.
“Hm?”
“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”
You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 
He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.
“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.
“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”
You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.
203 notes · View notes
andersonlore · 2 days
Note
high sex with dina…. high sex with dina……
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kiss of heaven | dina
tags: eighteen+, sexual content, cannabis sex, oral (dina!r), face sitting, , dub-con (both reader and dina are high).
an. here's my first fic of dina! it's not perfect by any means by i kinda like it?? i hope you enjoy it as well.
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there’s something special about it. firsts always are. the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the serotonin getting sent through your head when someone new kisses you for the first time, the very beginnings of an orgasm never been given by them, the shivers traveling up your spine with a promise of something more. it’s all so inviting your doe-eyed heart welcomes it with open arms. 
but this isn’t the case. 
dina sitting on your lap the entire night, taking hit after hit, the both of you lost in the feeling of what could’ve been all night. now, the both of you are too far lost in the lust of weed, all you can think about is fucking her. she’s been grinding back into you all night, as if it’s not torturing you to no end. you’re sure you’ve soaked yourself through and it would be embarrassing. possibly. desperately, you crave her more than anyone, you just need to be satiated. or sedated if she turns you down. 
you’ve both been here before, years ago, but it feels just as it’s always been. somehow, you knew this would be your fate tonight. tongue tied with the woman you’ve never been able to get over. she comes into your life like nothing has changed. you let her, it makes you feel like a love struck idiot all over again. 
well, tonight. you’re more high strung than anything. the both of you are. 
the white of your eyes populated by red little lines, hooded as you have her pinned to the wooden door of a vacant room. all you have is a simple bra concealing your from her, delicate panties accentuating her divine hips. soft skin to the touch as you rub her hip bone with the pad of your thumb, drawing goosebumps in your wake. 
you can’t help but look at her perfectly sculpted breast, soft stomach, the collarbones you crave to sink your teeth into. it’s what you dreamed of. even if inebriation took over you both, if you got to have her? it didn’t really matter at all. not really. 
locking the door, you’re pulling her towards the bed as you take a seat in the middle as she stands there for you. “take them off.” you command, gesturing with a tilt of your head. she slips them off, not so gracefully, tripping as she does so. she warns you with her warm eyes to not utter a fucking word. 
but you can’t help the small giggle you try to stifle. it’s impossible to conceal. 
“you sure you want to test me?” she pushes, raising her bold eyebrows at you. intentionally, you snap your bra off before saying “no ma’am. wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.” instantly, the power becomes hers. as if it was ever anything different. a silent hope, wanting to have it for once, but with her? you crumble. 
her beautifully dark hair is a mess, from your endless pulling. “can you, um—” she raises her expressive brows indicating for you to give in and tell her. you try your best, but you’re so distracted by her beauty, the cannabis taking over as you’re impossibly wet, drooling over having your dream girl back. even if it’s for a short time, she’s here. 
“i want you to sit on my face, tonight. please?” she stalks you like her prey, climbing up your body before resting at your hips, before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “hm, finally seems like someone learned their manners.” the soft chuckle cured you of the last time before she wastes no more time. not a fucking  second. 
it’s all so quick. happening in a flash of your eyes, maybe it’s the weed and maybe it’s just her. the instant sigh released from her lips makes your thighs clench. you’re thankful she is facing you or else she’d make you split them apart. you know she would. 
it’s been too long since you’ve had her. your tongue licking a bold strip from her clit, sliding down her labia until lightly dipping into her hold before traveling back up her pearl of pleasure. you’re missing the way her head is being thrown back with your eyes shut as you suckle on your favorite meal. being deprived of the sweet taste of her cunt for so long, you eat it up as if you’ve been starved. 
“s’good baby, fuck. forgot how good your mo—” you spit dramatically on her cunt, smothering your spit on her pussy with your thumb, applying light pressure on her clit. “yeah , you should have never forgotten, baby. i always take care of you, don’t i?” slapping her supple ass with your free hand. 
dina sinks down the extra weight she’d been holding, suffocating you with her slick. you open your eyes for a moment to take her in, only to find she’s looking right back. “hi angel” she whispers, making you giggle softly. 
desperately, you’re trying to recall the last time she’s been this light hearted but you can’t. is it possible she’s changed? fuck, the possibility of new beginning is sent throughout your cunt. the idea only latches onto your brain for a moment before dina’s moaning again, rolling her hips deliciously, fucking your face and looking gorgeous doing it. 
“is this what you want, huh? fuck…need to cum so fucking badly.” she moves her hips quickly, lost in the way you’re fucking the shit of her. skilled tongue giving her your best, hoping she’ll paint yours in return. she knows she never would’ve succumbed so easily if it wasn’t for the cannabis. dina, always one to savor. not go through the motions so quickly, but now she doesn’t really give a shit. all she craves is the high she knows you can offer. 
fully focusing on her clit, you suck the pearl into your mouth, flicking your tongue over, over, and over. dina’s delicious thighs began to shake. irrevocably so. it’s her tell. right before she cums, each and every time, they shake. high pitched moans escape as she tries to regain composure but it’s useless. she’s far gone and you’re more than happy to send her tumbling over the edge. 
“jus’ let go baby, yeah? just me ‘nd you. cum for me mommy? please?” you pause before saying what you know will send her over the edge. “c’mon, making a fucking mess all over my face. i can’t take it, babygirl. promise.” 
189 notes · View notes
himezoro · 3 days
Note
Hello!! Could you please do what it would be like to date Luffy?? He's my favorite character and I loved your Zoro headcanons!!
— tysm for requesting !! i've recently came back from my trip and still recovering from my mental breakdown lol, so writing for luffy aka my son is all i need <3 i hope it brings you joy and light ⋆˙⟡♡ i have other requests in my box and i promise to do them all, i won't let you down !!
ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ : monkey d luffy's guide to relationship (check out roronoa zoro's guide here and here if you're interested)
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dating monkey d luffy would include :
endless, countless and heartfelt laughters. luffy is an outgoing and fun person to be around. he's always having fun on the way of making his dream come true, making each day bright and sunny. he won't be trying that hard to make their s/o laugh, his authenticity, fearlessness and lack of danger estimation would do the trick. but expect him to yell his s/o's name everytime he pulls a prank or tests his flexibility by making funny faces. if his s/o happens to be sad, he would also try his best to cheer them up by first, making them laugh to forget about their worry. when in bed with his s/o, he would let soft and intimate laughs escape his throat when talking to them or listening to their stories. laughing is an intimate and loving act according to luffy's guide.
physical touch. luffy's a sucker for hugs, tender gestures and pdas!! he has no shame hugging his friends like a koala, but with his s/o?? they would barely be able to breath lmao. luffy would sleep with his arms fully wrapped around his s/o's back, with his chin on the top of their head, sometimes, he would sleep on top of them with his whole weight just to show "how much he loves them", or with his head on their lap. anyway, luffy’s s/o is always at arms length thanks to his ability, much to his delight. the boy's clingy, but so adorable and natural about it. however, if their s/o needs some space, luffy would understand, although a bit saddened, so expect him to ask for a hug when they're ready. if their s/o really hates physical touch, it would be difficult for luffy to adjust (he's just a big soft plushie please take care of my baby)
receiving random compliments at random times. luffy's very honest and genuine, and even though he lacks real communication skills, he never lies. therefore, if he sees their s/o with a new outfit and he finds it nice, he will vocalize it in his words. "your coat is brown like a juicy steak, it looks tasty! you should wear it more often", "your hair looks like a cloud this morning", "your eyes sparkle like lasers!!".
him being involved in his s/o's hobbies/occupations. luffy is naturally curious. people often feel like he is pestering and "in the way", which can hurt his feelings, but he is genuinely interested in his friends' activities. he has so much admiration for them. but with his s/o? luffy would not only pester and ask what they're doing, he would also be trying to learn alongside them, with stars in his eyes. if their s/o's a fighter and fighting with a particular weapon or style, luffy would sit quietly and watch for some time, clapping his hands and feet at any random movements from their body, before joining and mimicking. if their s/o was reading or doing anything more intellectual or academic, luffy would sit by them, his arms crossed on the table and his head on top and listen to them talk and tell about what they're learning. if his s/o is patient and pedagogical, he would be so happy and confident enough to ask questions. he will then brag to usopp and chopper about his recent learnings with confidence and pride, saying how "(your name) taught me!!" (he will also turn around to his s/o to check if what he's saying is correct). it is very important for luffy to know what his s/o is doing and what they like, and for them to share their activities together. because on luffy's part, he would include his s/o in every single thing, even on shenanigans with usopp and chopper if they'd like.
hungry kisses and messy makeout sessions. the first kiss with luffy was soft, quick and intimate: a simple peck on the lips. also, at the beginning of the relationship, they were few, as the captain is more of a hugger. however, when his s/o would explain luffy that kisses could involve tongue, dear lord. luffy got insatiable. with his first french kiss, the move of his tongue got so messy he let some drool escape from his lips, trailing out from his s/o's lips. he also accidently bit his s/o's bottom lip so hard it stayed swollen for a couple of days. luffy would take note on his s/o's preferences and always surprise them with that one kiss that would leave them out of breathe and shaky. during make out sessions, not only his tongue would be insatiable, but his hands as well. this boy cannot stand still, he would trail his hands all over his s/o's body, especially the inside of their thighs or their ass. oftenly, after pulling away from his lips, he would look at his s/o's eyes and say "more" before diving in again.
aside from the messy kisses from heated and hungry make outs, luffy's kisses are always spontaneous and playful. he's hanging from the chandelier with his legs around it? he'll grow his head down just he can peck his s/o's lips. his kisses are never calculated or protocolar, they're just like his sweet personality. he would try to kiss you when you eat to "taste your food", claiming that it tasted better.
learning to communicate. luffy is not a complete moron, but his communication skills and social awareness may not be the best. their s/o will have to use patience in order to have a meaningful conversation about their intimate feelings or their relationship in general. luffy is a good listener to his s/o, however, his responses are not always fitting to the matter at hand, sometimes even immature. nevertheless, luffy is a willing person, especially with his s/o. he would try his best providing more fitting responses to his s/o's matters and expressing his needs as well, especially if he feels he has been saddened by their behaviour.
entrusting him and reassuring him. of course, luffy is a confident person, not only in his skills, but also in his dream of being the King of the Pirates. however, if their s/o does not vocalize their trust in his dream, skills or character, luffy would be saddened and pouty. it could trigger his jealousy. he is the captain of a fantastic crew with fantastic people and he feels entrusted with that role, but the one trust and validation he needs is from his s/o. if their s/o compliments him or refer to him as "future King of the Pirates", he would be beaming so hard and brag about it a little.
having a number one fan and devoted partner. luffy loves all of his crewmates and would do anything for them. but his s/o is special. he would always cheer them up, be their cheerleader, talk about them at any given times (a little like tom holland with zendaya lol), protect them from the smallest ant, raise them high. he will always stand for them. if his s/o's in danger, the smallest hint of common sense hidden in his brain gets completely lost and he goes feral. he won't let anything happen to his s/o, before letting anything happen to his dream. his dream is with their s/o: there's no Pirate King with his s/o, no matter what. losing his brother already broke his heart, and he knows losing his s/o will hurt the same, so he does not let anything happen to them. <3
he's the definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, but i feel like he would rather eat from your plate than giving you his lmao. he won't mind sharing with you, but he would enjoy stealing food from your plate.
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leviismybby · 19 hours
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Cat and Mouse
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Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering
Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.
"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.
"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.
"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.
You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.
His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.
And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.
The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.
He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.
Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.
He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.
The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."
You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.
Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.
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ramp-it-up · 3 days
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Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"
Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.
Then, he took control.
He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.
Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.
“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”
You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.
“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”
Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 
“Hm.” 
Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 
“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”
Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.
“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”
Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.
“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”
Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 
“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”
You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.
“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”
Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.
“You want me to fuck you raw…?”
You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 
“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”
The expression on his face was priceless.
“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”
He looked as if he would devour you.
An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.
“Fuck, Sy!”
His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.
You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.
Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 
“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”
He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.
Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 
This was a long time in coming.
“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”
Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.
“Kiss me, Sy.”
He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.
You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.
“Sy…please…”
“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”
He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.
“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”
He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 
“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”
He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.
“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”
“S-Yyyyyyy!”
Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.
“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”
His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.
“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”
Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.
“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”
“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”
You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.
He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.
He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 
‘I want that,’ you thought.
Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.
“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”
You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.
“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”
He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.
“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”
Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”
You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.
“You good? Want me to…”
He made to pull out and then you implored him.
“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”
You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.
“More, please.”
“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 
He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 
“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”
Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.
As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.
“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”
As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.
“More…”
You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 
Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.
“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”
“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”
It had never been like this before. With anyone.
Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.
Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.
He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.
Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.
Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.
“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  
He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.
“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”
“Unh! Sy…”
You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.
Sy read the look on your face.
“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”
Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.
“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”
You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.
Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.
“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”
He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 
Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.
“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”
He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.
“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”
You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.
“Oh…. no….” 
You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.
“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”
Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.
“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”
Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.
Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.
“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”
“Sy-”
“Shhhh, Buttercup.”
Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.
“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”
He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.
“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”
You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.
“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”
He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.
“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”
He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.
You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.
You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.
“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”
That grin would do you in.
——
Hit Reblog if you like it!
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ofallthingsnasty · 3 days
Text
tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k
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One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)
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To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.
Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?
Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time.  What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.
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soaringwide · 3 days
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Pick a Card: Month Ahead #01
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This was written for May 2024 but with the intention to be timeless, so even if you find it later there might be a message for your next month.
We'll look into your energy coming into the month, but also what will be the theme/area of focus and what you'll need to pay attention to, as well as the surprises that might come your way.
It's my first time doing a pick a card like this so we'll see how it turns out! I love doing those privately though.
As always, be mindful that this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not be 100% fitting for your situation, and that it's based on the energy you hold at the moment of selecting a pile that draws you to one of them.
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PILE 1
Cards: Page of Cups, Queen of Wands, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords, the Emperor, Strength, 5 of Cups, the Moon, Queen of Cups, 5 of Wands rx, Ace of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, Page of Wands
For your energy coming into the month, I see you being in a state of being in tune with your heart, opening up to the possible rise of a new romantic connection. I get the sense that you're cautiously optimistic about it, because while you feel confident within yourself and in a happy place, you're also aware that it's too early to tell. But you're not letting that deter you and you're fully embracing your own power, feeling good about yourself and where you're at while looking ahead hopefully and waiting for an opportunity to move forward. I think for you the process of the month ahead has already started a bit before the start of the new month and you're continuing the process.
When it comes to the theme of the month, I see the importance of putting your emotional fulfillment at the forefront and being actively working towards it. There is a need to bring clarity about the situation, clarity that will bring you contentment and tie loose ends. You will be determined to work through that with willpower and determination by taking the lead and stop wasting time around. I think you are seeing the path forward for this connection and you're determined to go for it and not let it escape. You got four cards here and they all represent a different element, which I interpret as the fact that harmony within and for yourself will be a big theme as well. Between your feelings, your thoughts and your actions, everything will be grounded in your authentic self.
I think these past few months have not always been great for you and you're determined to leave that behind and enter the new chapter of your life. You've learned all you had to about your old ways and now you're ready for a change. So for the goal you'll have in mind, you will be focused on not falling back into the same patterns of thoughts and behaviors and keep moving forward with determination and a sense that you can't go back to what you once where.
The challenge that will arise will come from your own psyche. I get the sense that you still have unresolved issues within yourself that may cloud this great picture, so you will have to be extra careful about not letting your fears and doubts making you spiral down and do or say something that doesn't align with your truth. You might go through times where you feel irritable or anxious and you may take that as a proof that things are going to shit again and you might want to run away, but it's an illusion. It just means that you still have some inner clutter to sort out. Be careful about not shutting yourself off from others as a reaction to your inner pain.
When it comes to a surprise coming your way, it seems there will be an event that will create a shift from a confusing and chaotic situation to one of open communication of feelings, laying out a more positive base for the future. I'm getting the sense that this is what the theme of the month was referring to, and while you seek it, you don't really know how it will unfold so it will still be a surprise when it happens. When this even happens, be as open and honest as possible in order to clear out any possible miscommunication, be kind and listen to what the other person has to say with empathy and love at heart.
What you'll have gained by the end of the month will be a stable and solid start towards the future. Things are blossoming but you'll have learned that there's no point rushing into anything and that things come when the time is right. You'll be set to build on that for the months to come. Maybe the start of a new commitment although things are in their very early stage.
As a final advice, it is important not to shut yourself off from your emotions and not to stay stuck in your old ways of remaining passive. Stay open and assertive, go after what you want and I get the strong message that you need to communicate openly about everything that isn't clear in this connection. Don't just wait around for things to fall onto your lap. Be passionate and enthusiastic and again be clear about your intentions. Also, you're learning something new and important so be gentle with yourself if you don't get everything perfectly from the get go, what matters is to do your best.
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PILE 2
Cards: King of Wands, Queen of Cups, the Lovers rx, 8 of Cups rx, Queen of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Memento Mori, 10 of Swords, King of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, 2 of Wands, The Chariot, Knight of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 3 of Cups rx, 7 of Cups
For the general vibe of this pile, it feels a bit overwhelming like there is so much to pay attention to that you are somewhat disconnected from yourself as a result, because your feelings are so confusing that you get lost in them. There are A LOT of court cards, which may mean that there is a situation that brings the intervention of a lot of different people, perhaps it will be busy at work, or something involving family, creating a very messy situation where everyone has something to say and you can't hear yourself anymore. Really there is so much external influences here that I had a hard time picking up on YOU until the end of the reading.
For the energy you have coming into the month, I really think you are in a committed relationship with someone (and if not it's not your pile), but there is a big disharmony here. It seems one of you is on the way out of the relationship (represented by the King of Wands), and the fact that the Queen of Wands shows as a challenge later in the reading, I'm getting that this person already has someone in mind. It seems you are longing for the way the relationship used to be and it feels over, but you are having difficulties moving on right now. It's also possible you're just longing for the idea of Love altogether and wishing you could drop everything you have right now to run towards it. There is a choice to be made but right now at the end of the month, you are not making a move one way or another.
The theme of the month to come for you pile 2 makes a lot of sense considering what I already wrote. You will have to focus on your own clarity and get grounded in yourself, trying to find stillness in the chaos that surrounds you in order to get the answers you need, based on your own guidance. I'm also getting that you feel resistant to change and the call of life, and that you may feel a bit dead inside and numb as a result. There is a need to find excitement for the miracle of life again which has been lost due to your complex situation. ''The meaning is in the Middle'' is what's written on the card and writing down in case it speaks to anyone.
For what you'll consciously focus on this month, I'm getting just like...trying not to break down completely and at the same time keeping up with your demanding job and practical life issues. Perhaps this impending breakup is causing financial stress and you don't know how things will turn out. So your goal will be navigating that in order to stay on top of things both mentally and professionally/financially.
Okay this is where it finally clicks because I was confused whether you where the one with the third party of the one who is perhaps cheated on. With the King of Pentacles longingly looking at the Queen of Wands (the third party I mentioned before - don't take gender into account though) standing next to him, I'm getting that YOU are wondering how to welcome this new passionate connection into your busy life and how to make it fit from a practical standpoint with your current relationship. The Queen seems to be both a challenge and an opportunity, I don't necessarily get that this Queen is a bad omen, it's just a difficult situation that require a choice on your part.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, I'm not getting a particular event but rather, how it will change the course of what you're doing. This surprise will force you to weight your options and start pursuing what you desire, getting out of that rut you are in. There will be progress moving forward as I don't think you'll be left indecisive for too long. There is a sense of urgency here, whether it's perceived or true, you will feel it deeply and it will push you into actions. You will be surprised by how determined you suddenly feel after the indecision of the past.
What will be gained after the month ends is a newfound stability as you'll have regained your footing. From that point in the spread it's like things have cleared up a bit and there's open space. There is a new beginning on the horizon but unlike the urgency that led you to that point, there is now the need to take things slow and build strong foundations.
The advice you got was that, well, it's time to choose what you want to do with this third party. You can't keep holding things like that without making a choice. You might also need to distance yourself from bad influences around you like friends or family and again focus on yourself. The second advice is about restoring some type of balance between giving and taking. It seems someone has or will give you something and you'll have to give something in return so that not to break the flow of the relationship.
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PILE 3
Cards: 4 of Swords rx, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 3 of Pentacles rx, 7 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 9 of Wands, Justice, 4 of Wands, King of Cups, the Moon, 9 of Swords, Temperance, 6 of Swords, the Fool
For your energy coming into the month, I see that you might have been feeling burnt out for a while now due to over-exhausting yourself with work or your studies, something you've put a lot of care and energy into in any case. You feel stagnant and somewhat demotivated and the whole thing is weighting on you. It's like you've put so much effort into working on this issue that you feel totally depleted emotionally. However, you can't seem to let go a bit in order to get things flowing again and you remain stuck, fearing everything is going to go to waste if you relax a bit.
The theme of this month will be to find your support system and reach out for help in order to get you to find new solutions to your issue. Not everything can be done alone. Furthermore, not every project can be rushed through all the time, sometimes you have to let it rest for a bit and let it grow under the surface of the soil. You will find great benefit from focusing on your own enjoyment and pleasure for a change in order to find a new perspective on your situation.
Despite that, it seems your mind will still be set on proving yourself this month. It's like, you feel burnt out and stagnant, and instead of getting the cue that you need to slow down a bit, you look at others and wonder why you can't hustle like them. Basically you're sensing there is an issue but you're trying to solve it in a toxic way by comparing yourself to others and feeling threatened by their success, triggering your self esteem issues.
The challenged you will have to face have to do with accepting to restore the balance in your life and take a break to have a bit of fun. Sounds like a false problem but it seems it's quite difficult for you to do at the moment because you're so focused on your tasks. It's a critical point though because if you don't cut off the toxic behaviors that are burying you into the ground, you will face the repercussions of your own non-action further down the line. You might have a hard time socializing because your heart is not there and you might feel left out, even though it would do you good to get a change of scenery and get out of your cave for a while.
For the unexpected thing that will happen this month, this will have to do with some type of emotional reconnection that will lead to more balance. It's very possible that it'll be uncomfortable at first as all the negative feelings you've been pushing under the rug all this time are resurfacing, but if you manage to stay afloat you will find a greater sense of mastery over them. I'm not getting anything precise as to what's gonna happen, but it will have to do with you being forced to take the blindfolds off and finally pay attention to your mental health. This might be the inner crisis you need to get back in a better shape.
What will have been gained by the end of the month has to do with leaving behind this way of doing and thinking you were holding onto at the beginning of the month. You will finally be able to get moving again, even if it will feel somewhat bitter and hard to do, remember it's for the better because you could not keep going on like you did.
The advice for you to help you navigate things is to not take everything so seriously all the time. Don't focus too much on what's not working or what you could do better or even on what you can't control, but try to find hope and the sense that a new beginning is at hand if only you open yourself up to it. Whoever is sending you this advice really encourages you to enjoy the little things and find your youthful spirit again. Things won't stay bleak forever so the best thing you can do is let yourself move along the stream.
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bendycxmet · 2 days
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Pierced—Vash the Stampede
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Summary: How did Vash get that hoop in??
Word Count: ~1.2k
Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede
Content: fluff, a lil angsty, Vash deserves his sense of self ok
a/n: @aboveweirdest gave me this wonderful idea while we were analyzing this man to death! tyty was thinking about this when i got another helix piercing done recently so i whipped this up before bed
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In recent days, you’ve seen Vash eyeing you. At least, more than what is normal. It was unsettling everytime you felt his gaze on you whenever you tried passing the time by creating something out of scraps you found into jewelry, specifically earrings. 
For instance, he was doing it now, as your hands worked the small pliers expertly to transform a piece of gold wire into a hoop. You either usually pierce your own ears with your creations, or sell them in town for some extra cash you both could use for bullets or food. Vash wishes he could be as good as you on the artsy side, but you always remind him that he is good with his hands. No one can beat him in marksmanship.
“Like what you see there, gunman?” you tease, side eyeing him for a split second. Caught in the act, Vash blushes a lovely red that reaches the tip of his ears. You love getting a rise out of him.
“Do you wanna learn? Is that it? Because you’ve been a little too curious these past couple of days.”
“Mm.. ‘s not that. I just… How many piercings do you have?” 
The question comes out of nowhere for you. You think it’s obvious, since mostly all of them are on your ears. Doing mental math, you count what you have on your ears.
“Uh, around 11? I’m thinking of doing more, but we’ve been too busy lately.”
He simply nods, humming to himself as he visibly thinks through your answer. 
“Why do you pierce your ears?” You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Don’t mean that in an offensive way!” He quickly puts his hands up, offering a sign of peace. You laugh at his gestures. “I just been noticing lately that your usual customers are people with loads of piercings, and I never gave it much thought before to get one of my own, but I think…they look so cool on others. They seem so happy with them too, expressing themselves without even saying a word.”
Your hands still at his words, something dropping in your stomach and twisting at his solemn expression. Vash never revealed much about his past, and you never probed him further. Anytime anything connected to his past came up, you could clearly tell whatever happened had left its scars on him, physically and mentally. You respected his decision to close up those details, and reminded him that whenever, if ever, he was ready to share that load with you, you would be there.
You look back down at the gold hoop in your hands, an idea coming to mind. You quickly add the finishing touches, putting a little more effort into it as it was for someone special now. 
“Hey, what do you think of this?” You hold up the hoop to Vash’s eyes, catching the glimmer in his eyes at your recent creation, like that of a thief spotting expensive items through a window. Greed and envy swirling together.
“It’s beautiful! You always amaze me with how you turn a piece of trash into such a pretty object. That one’s gonna sell fast Mayfly!” You warm at his praise and nickname for you. His confidence and support for your skills potentially outweighed yours for how he handled his gun.
Yet, you can’t stand the fake smile he plasters on his face, masking the jealousy he feels for the future owner of the golden hoop.
“Think I’m gonna sell it for free. It’s for someone close to me.” Vash simply cocks his head to the side. You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “How about letting me pierce your ear for you?”
The change in his demeanor is quick. He straightens his back, eyes shining brightly, nodding eagerly at you. “I’m in your hands!”
Grabbing a small threading needle from your kit, you order him to sit close to you on motel bed. Cleaning your hands and the needle, you search his face, looking for any signs of regret. 
“You sure about this? Do you know where you want it?”
He’s pensive for a moment, eyes looking past you. He hums, pointing at his left lobe. How perfect, you think, same side as his cute little mole. 
You fidget, rethinking piercing his ear. You’ve only ever pierced yourself, so now that you have someone else in front of you, you feel like a total amateur. 
“Hey. Get out of your head there. I know what you’re thinking.” Vash’s voice breaks through your brain fog. He wraps his hand around your raised arm, poised and ready to pierce him. He gently tightens his hold on your waist. “I trust you.” You feel your heart twinge at the soft vulnerability in his eyes.
“Ok, this will be a slight pinch. I know you’re used to pain-” you interject, noting his slightly raised eyebrow, silently telling you been there done that. “-but just follow my rules. Ok, breathe in for me.” You raise the needle to his ear. “And breathe out.” As you feel his breath ghost your arm, you push the needle as quickly as you can through his ear, quickly adding the hoop to his ear. 
You turn around to wash your hands. “And there you go! Your first piercing ever! Crazy, considering that you’re like 150- hey don’t touch-” you catch him as he’s going to finger his new piercing, staring straight at the mirror on the vanity opposite the bed. The warning dies in your throat at the sight of him nearly in tears.
“I…I love it,” he says in a warbled voice.
“Oh Vash, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I really tried to be careful. Always with you.” You sit beside him, leaning onto his shoulder, rubbing his back in comfort. He sniffs. 
“It’s not you. It’s just…this is the first time I feel like I’ve done something for myself. I feel like my own person. With just a hoop.” Wet tears trail down his cheeks. You press your fingers to his cheeks, wiping his tears. You know how he’s been burdened with his past, no doubt still feeling the shadow of his brother and the destruction that’s come from his actions. Perhaps this earring meant more than you could ever imagine, perhaps it finally binded him to the present, and to his own future that he can create. 
“You’ve always been Vash to me. Never your brother. Just you. Vash the Stampede. The most amazing gunman to ever walk into my life.” He turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your neck.
“Thank you. Now, I feel like everyone else. Maybe they can see me as one of them. Not this humanoid disaster.” You nuzzle into him, hands returning to their rubbing against his back.
“You look nice by the way. It suits you really well. The gold complements your blue blue eyes,” you tease, hoping to get a chuckle out of him. 
He pecks your cheek, another thank you from him. He presses his face tighter to you, jolting suddenly. “Ow!”
“Yeahh, it’s gonna be a bit tender for a bit.” 
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masterlist
divider by saradika
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tomssexdoll · 2 days
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hey boobie it’s your favorite person ever
so i was thiiinking 2009 billy dread era and ur his gf and it was a stressful day for him so while you’re brushing ur teeth and abt to head to bed he comes up behind u n starts kissing ur neck and dragging his fingers under the waistband of ur shorts. 😍😍😍 and then he fucks u rough on the hotel bed. omg and make it a plot twist where since it’s a hotel, tom hears everything and is absolutely traumatized the next day
HI POOKIe
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"Fuck.." Bill grunted, slamming the door shut and entering the hotel room, I was getting ready for bed and wondered why Bill was taking so long to come back from Toms room.
They had been discussing some things with the rest of the band and obviously a fight must've broke out. I was brushing my teeth, looking at him through the mirror, "baby what happened" I mumbled, mouth full of toothpaste.
He sighed and walked over, wrapping his hands around my waist and softly kissing my neck, "just the guys..they are so fucking difficult, I make these great decisions and they all disagree" he grunted, fists slightly clenching.
"I know they're annoying baby but just learn to deal with them I guess, you know how difficult Tom can be" I sighed, not paying attention to his kisses and spitting the toothpaste out, bending over and cleaning my mouth out.
Bill grunted and pressed his erection onto my ass, rubbing softly. I smirked and stood back up, feeling his hands snake under the waistband of my shorts, dangerously close to my clothed pussy.
I turned around and caressed his cheek, "how about I take care of you, hm?" he chuckled, "oh no baby I'm in control, get ready" I winced slightly, knowing damn well he wasn't going to go easy on me. He led me to the bed and instructed for me to take my clothes off, I did as I was told and got on my hands and knees on the bed, arching my back to show off my aching pussy to him.
The bed dipped behind me and he smacked my ass hard, leaving a stining sensation after, "don't tease you little shit" he grunted, shoving his boxers down and freeing his cock. I felt the tip at my entrance, softly teasing.
"Mm..put it in.." I whimpered, tired of him taking so long, he grabbed my hair and forcefully shoved it back, whispering in my ear "don't demand shit, I will fuck you when I want and however I want" I nodded and felt his cock slam into me all at once, stretching me out.
"Ah!" I groaned, grabbing onto the sheets until my knuckles turned white. I tried to get over the pain of his cock brutally shoving itself in me, he retracted and then slammed back in, creating a rough pace.
His grip on my hair only tightened, another hand coming around and wrapping itself around my neck, gently choking me. I cried out and felt his tip directly hit my g spot, sending shock waves of pleasure throughout me.
"Oh fuck!" I moaned, rolling my eyes back and clenching my legs together. "Stop that" he smacked my ass roughly, hand returning back to my neck.
His grip on my hair finally loosened, sending me flying into the mattress face first, I stabled myself and gripped onto the sheets again, "fuck sakes.." he mumbled, smacking my ass again.
His cock felt so good in me, his tip kissing my cervix as it roughly pounded into me. "Such a good girl, letting me take my frustrations out on you" he chuckled darkly.
At this point the headboard was slamming into the wall, making a slight dent. I knew we would get in trouble but fuck I didn't care right now, in the moment all I cared about was his cock slamming into my pussy so well.
I felt a knot forming in my stomach, coiling down to my core. My release was near and it was approaching fast, I tried to tell Bill but I couldn't form the words, too much pleasure hitting me all at once, all that came out was, "cumming..fuck.." whimpers left my mouth, feeling his tip slam into my g spot so perfectly.
"Cum on my cock baby.." he groaned, picking up his pace and thrusting harder and faster, I felt the burning in my heat only intensify. Then, my body shuddered, my orgasm crashing down and making me cum all over his cock.
My pussy clenched hard onto his cock, his cum squirting in me and coating my walls. He panted and grabbed my waist, laying onto the bed and pulling me onto his chest. We both caught out breathes for a few minutes before he pulled out and quickly cleaned me up, falling asleep straight away.
The next morning we all met up for breakfast, Tom couldn't even look at us, instead keeping quiet and eating his breakfast. I decided to speak up since Tom was never like this and I was concerned, "Tom are you ok? You're not usually this quiet" I tilted my head, pouting softly.
He finally looked up at me, a traumatized look in his face. "The walls are paper thin Y/N" he sighed, my eyes widened as I turned to Bill, smirking and drinking his juice.
"You fucking asshole you knew! You did it to piss him off!" I smacked his arm and stormed off, leaving the guys to laugh their asses off, except for Tom ofc poor Tom.
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tags: @itsmealaiah @tomkaulitzloverr @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @ge-billsgf @bkaulitzlover @ballhair @charliesgoodboy @estxkios
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Reborn Into BG3: Chapter 9
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 9: You lose something, but maybe a certain devil can help you out?
Word count: 2K
A/N: Okay, but should we start to focus on one companion for romance??
Your body is warm as you drift between sleeping and waking.  It’s like you’re sitting by a fireplace, wrapped in a soft blanket while a winter storm rages outside.  Like sleeping in on a Sunday morning with nowhere to be for the day.  You could stay there forever, resisting the pull of the waking world with a grimace.
“You took quite the hit,” a deep voice says, “and for a bear no less.”
Right, you were bleeding, concussed.  You should really open your eyes to see what’s happening, but they only flutter shut again.  There’s a dim light overhead that disturbs your peaceful warmth, and when you turn away from it you feel the cold stone on your cheek.
Stone.  Blood.  Bear.  Your eyes open—slowly despite the shot of fear that courses through your body.  After a few blurry blinks you’re able to make out the vague shape of a person's head, then long brown hair that’s partly tied back and braided, and a smile.
“Welcome back,” Halsin says.  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to heal you—we had to get the goblins out of the way first.”
“We?” you repeat.
Another face comes into view, the horns on top of Tav’s head nearly poking out one of Halsin’s eyes.  The druid backs off to let your companions fuss over you. 
Dried blood has crusted on your forehead and cheek.  You wipe at it and it begins to flake away with ease; whatever healing magic Halsin used on you has sealed the wound and dried the blood.  
Tav moves behind you and slides his hands under your back, giving you a push upright.  Almost your full weight is on him until you’re sitting up, still trying to blink away little spots in your vision.
“What happened?” you ask.  “Did I win?”
You’re not even sure what you’re asking.
“Against a rock?” Astarion says.  “No.  Against the worm in your head…that’s another story.”
You take a deep inhale, surveying the faces around you.  There’s worry on almost all of them, but something else.  More than concern for your repeated blows to the head.  It isn’t until you follow Astarion’s gaze to something to your left that you understand.
You jump away, scurrying back just like when you’d found the boar in your tent.  There, lying lifelessly on the stone floor, is a mindflayer tadpole.  Your stomach lurches as Tav picks it up between two claws then tosses it behind him.
“The tadpoles leave the host when it dies,” Halsin says.  “Though what caused it to leave this time, I’m not sure.”
“How did it—what part of me—where did it leave from?”  You stand, head shaking.  “No, I don’t want to know.  I’ve never been so glad to be knocked unconscious.”
You waver on your feet, world spinning.  When you hold your hands out to balance yourself you’re lifted off your feet and into the arms of Tav.
“I can walk,” you say, though you don’t know if that’s true.  Besides, there is a lot of blood on Tav that can’t be all goblin—he didn’t have to carry you back to camp.
“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Tav replies.  “I’m sorry.”
“I volunteered.”  Your fact does little to lighten his mood, his lips still in a firm line.  “Besides, if I hadn’t failed my persuasion roll I probably would have been fine.”
Tav only furrows his brow at your words. 
“I’m sorry to leave like this but I must return to the grove,” Halsin announces.  He doesn’t even have to step towards you to take your hand in his; he never strayed far after healing you.  “Please, speak with me there when you can.”
You watch as Halsin places a gentle kiss on your knuckles, unable to do anything else as your face heats.  He adds, “And thank you for what you did.”
You stutter a quiet “No problem” just before he transforms into a rat and dashes off.
“Oof!”  Karlach places a hand over her heart dramatically.  “He’s a charming one, isn’t he?”
You don’t trust your voice to not come out as a squeak so you say nothing.  Your attention returns to the tadpole that disappeared into the shadows of the cell.  Should you really leave it there?  Was it really dead?
“Did it…did it really leave?” you ask.  Are they going to leave you behind now that you’re no longer sharing their affliction?  You wet your lips.
“We think that may be why Priestess Gut said the Absolute abandoned you,” Gale explains.  He’s standing by Astarion, your staff in hand.  He gives it a shake.  “Though she was none too impressed to see you with this.  But that’s something we can discuss when you haven’t been imprisoned by goblins, hit with large rocks, or—fed upon.”
You think you catch a dirty look from Gale to Astarion but it’s too dark and you’re too woozy to tell. 
You want to ask, “what now”, even as you stay held close to Tav.  But the words don’t come.  You know the answer after all this—they’ll definitely kick you out of the camp because so far you’ve done nothing but suck up all their healing supplies.  You have plenty of money to survive after all, and Halsin will probably let you stay in the grove for a while.  There’s a lump forming in your throat at the thought of going out on your own but what choice do you have?
Maybe Karlach can tell what you’re thinking, or maybe she’s just tired, too.  She says, “I think it’s about time we head back yeah?”
You swallow down the lump, nose starting to run as you hold back tears.  Pain is coming back to your body, Halsin’s healing wearing off.  It did its job of keeping you alive, and now it is your body that must do the rest of the work.  You can feel the bruises along your back, hips and sides where the goblins jabbed you, as well as the forming headache.  If the headache is from the rocks striking you or the tadpole you don’t know.  Either way, you wish that stupid thing had at least stayed in your head when it died.  
When Tav starts to walk you let him carry you without complaint, even resting your head against his shoulder, eyes closed.  Whatever happened to the goblins and their leaders remains unknown as he carries you out, but it’s silent in the camp.  
The group is silent, too.  Maybe they’re letting you rest while you can, you think, or maybe they’re trying to decide who gets to be the one to kick you to the curb.  You don’t think about it too long.  
When you feel fresh non-bloodstained air on your cheeks you open your eyes.  You’re across the bridge and heading towards the blighted village already.  Every step they take is a step closer to you being completely alone.
The scent of sulphur wafts towards you before you hear a strange sound, like a campfire being started.  Almost a poof, but not quite.  The group turns quickly to face the source: Raphael.   Tav puts you down as gently as possible, ready to draw his weapon when Raphael starts talking.  
“Now, now, I’m not here for a fight…”  His speech starts and finishes, and then with a snap of his fingers you’re all inside the House of Hope.  The scene progresses, Tav denying the devil every chance he gets until the end and they’re transported back to where you were.
Without you.
Raphael, now in his full cambion form is observing you, a hand to his chin.  
“You, uh, you missed one,” you tell him.
He quirks one eyebrow.  “Did I?”
Raphael moves towards you and with every step you have to tilt your head further back just to look him in the eye.  When he’s an arm's length away you step back until your thighs hit the table and he doesn’t stop until he’s nearly on top of you.  Your voice is shaky when you speak.  “Y-yep.  I don’t even have a tadpole so what good would a deal with me be?”
His smile never drops, never reveals what he’s thinking.  “You don’t, not anymore.  As fascinating as that is, I’m more interested in procuring something else you have.”
You point to yourself.  “Me?  What do I have?”
Raphael reaches for your face, and with nowhere to go you stay as still as possible.  Those claws feel bigger than Halsin’s in his bear form, but Raphael is gentle as he strokes a knuckle along your cheek.  
“You, my dear,” he says, almost wistfully, “have more than you know.  But you don’t know anything do you?  Just a name and a place; Baldur’s Gate.”
You gulp.  Even when he takes his hand away you feel the heat of his skin on your cheek.  He doesn’t step back, closing you in with his size and outstretched wings.  “I guess it’d be silly to ask how you know that.”
His smile grows, entertained by your question.  “I could help with that—your memories, your life here.”
The way he stresses the last word gives you a shock like when Priestess Gut had looked at you. 
“No, thank you.  Now, if you could just send me back—”
“What will you do when they leave you?”
The question halts your words, your very thoughts.  You peer up into Raphael’s red eyes.  He continues, “Without the tadpole binding you, you’ve no reason to stay.  Where will you go?  Gold can take you only so far.”
You don’t answer.  You don’t have an answer.  You ask, “You know who I am?”
“And then some,” he answers.  
You swallow your fear, again, and shake your head.  He’s a devil!  Evil!  Your identity isn’t worth your soul, which you’ve come to learn is real and eternal.  
“I’ll be here,” Raphael tells you, “I’m sure you know how to find me.”
In a plume of smoke you’re back on the dirt road that travels between the shrine and the village.  You stay stock still as if the predator is still in front of you, eyes on the ground.  You hear someone call your name, but it isn’t until Tav shakes your shoulders that you can react.  “What?”
“Please tell me you didn’t make a deal,” Karlach begs.  If she couldn’t burn your skin off you think it would be her shaking you out of your trance.  
“No,” you reply.  “No.  No!  Of course not.”
Each of the companions let out a relieved sigh. 
“What did he want with you?” Astarion asks.  “Not to be rude but without the tadpole…”
You shake your head, the ache inside growing.  Stop shaking your head at everything, you think.  “He didn’t say.”
“What did he offer?”  Gale steps up, brows pinched together as he carefully watches your expression.
“My memories,” you admit.  “But I don’t think my memories are worth my soul.”
Gale’s face relaxes at your answer.  
“Now there’s a devil at our door,” Astarion complains.  “What next?  Will we be attacked by a rabid kobold as icing on the cake?”
“All in good time,” Gale answers.  
“I’d give you a hug if it wouldn’t burn your skin off,” Karlach says to you. 
You smile at her, but it’s weak.  You could really use that hug.  Raphael’s words had echoed your own thoughts—what happens when you’re left alone, left behind, by these people?  They must mistake your silence for fear, because they each give you a reassurance that as long as you don’t make a deal with a devil you’ll be fine.  But you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and feeling terribly sorry for yourself.
You muster up as much energy as possible and put it into stretching your lips into a smile.  “We should probably get back to the grove.  I’m sure everyone will be happy to hear the goblins aren’t a threat.”
This time you don’t let Tav pick you up, and start walking on your own two feet.  You’ll have to get used to it anyway, injured or not, when they move on to the Underdark. 
Taglist:
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homelanderbutbig · 3 days
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A Quaint House With a White-Picket Fence (G/T Homelander x Reader)
1139 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.
You teach Homelander about Animal Crossing.
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With a rare day off, you decided to spend your afternoon doing something you haven't been able to for a while, play Animal Crossing. Homelander has never played a video game before, and he has made it perfectly clear to you that he has zero interest in doing so. He is also not shy at showing his jealousy at how engrossed you get playing your silly games instead of paying attention to him. As a result, you usually only play for short periods of time when you're alone.
Today was different. You have been doing nothing all day except play Animal Crossing, just like you used to do before moving into the Tower. You don't even hear him storming into the penthouse, in one of his signature grumpy moods. Grumbling irritatedly seeing you lounging on the couch, he can't believe you aren't acknowledging him and inviting him over for a cuddle like you always do. It's not like he's easy to miss.
Homelander walks over in front of the couch, attempting to make a point with his purposefully loud footsteps. And yet, you still don't even look up as he looms over you. Rolling his eyes, he places his hands on his hips as he taps his fingers on his belt. He can feel his anger bubbling to the surface, with the annoying little beeps and boops coming from the game only serving to aggravate him further.
Finally, he's had enough at watching you ignore him. With a motion so fast you barely even register what is happening, he picks you up so he can lie down on the couch, keeping you on top of him. His arms are wrapped immovably around your waist while his big head is snuggled firmly on your shoulder. He lets out a deep huff from his nose, making certain that you know how exasperated you've made him.
You stay there for a moment of tense silence, waiting for him to say something first. You feel bad for not even noticing him, but you want to see where he is mentally before you make a move.
"What is this?" he eventually asks you, contempt dripping from his voice. If you won't stop playing this dumb thing, he may as well learn what it is.
"Animal Crossing," you tell him, laughing as you practically feel him rolling his eyes. Ah, he's in one of these moods.
"It's a game where you get to play in this cute village and just do whatever," you try to clarify. "You can fish, catch bugs, decorate your house, and make friends with your neighbours. It's relaxing."
"…Why?" he retorts. He is baffled at how doing things in this game that you could do in real-life would have you so fixated.
"I dunno, it's hard to explain," you respond. "There's no stress in this world, no time-limits or deadlines. It's like… an escape."
Homelander is hushed as he contemplates your answer. The appeal still doesn't make a lot of sense to him.
"What… are you playing as?" he enquires, brow furrowing slightly. Your tiny avatar appears to be a boy with slicked-back blonde hair, wearing a blue shirt with an eagle design.
"I tried making you," you answer honestly, with a brief giggle. You click a mysterious button on your gaming device, and suddenly this character is smiling wide back at him.
"You… made me?" he ponders, rubbing his head into the nape of your neck.
"Yeah, I normally just make myself but… I wanted to see how you'd look too," you smile, returning his nuzzle. "You turned out cute, right?"
He sighs, not dignifying you with a response. This facsimile is nowhere near his level of perfection, but at least you tried.
"What's that noise?" he mumbles. "It sounds like a bug."
"What direction is it coming from?" you respond. "It might be a mole cricket, I haven't caught one of those yet."
"To the left," he guides you, using his super hearing to easily discern the origin of the bug's droning call. "Under that rock."
Homelander watches as you pull out your shovel and hit the rock, causing a cricket to pop out which you swiftly catch with your net.
"Look at that! We caught a mole cricket!" you exclaim.
"…Now what?" he queries. He doesn't understand why you seem to excited over this, it's just a disgusting, insignificant insect.
"Now we take it to the museum, so Blathers can put it on display," you reply.
"And what, we get a reward for it?" he asks.
"No, it's just for fun!" you attempt to explain. "We can get a golden net if we catch all the different kinds of bugs though!"
Once again, he feels flabbergasted by your reasonings. This is just one of those weird human things of yours that he figures he will never understand, no matter how many questions he asks.
Homelander decides to stay quiet for a while, simply observing as you go about your activities. Seeing you run around this confined space, pointlessly catching more bugs and fish. Listening to you tell him which animal villagers are your favourites, showing him your house and how you decorated every room.
Strangely, the longer he watches you play, the more relaxed he starts to feel. It's weird, seeing your miniature caricature of him running around this fake town. He's just spending his days trapped in this virtual world, living in a quaint house with a white-picket fence, surrounded by friendly neighbours… without anybody staring at him like he's a freak… without a care in the world.
He's living the life Homelander always wished he could.
"Do you think we could ever live in a place like this?" he contemplates in a somber voice. The genuineness of his thought takes you by surprise.
To be honest, you don't have an answer for him. Vought has such a tight grip on every aspect of his life, you aren't sure if he'll ever be able to be free of their influence. He's never known what it's like to be 'normal', his entire existence has been dictated for him, his every opinion pre-calculated for what's best for the company.
"Hey, why don't we spend the weekend at your cabin?" you suggest, trying to pivot the heavy conversation away to something more tangible. You put your game down to caress his cheek, feeling him angle his head into your touch. "Just the two of us, no schedules or worries."
You can feel a little smile spread across your shoulder at your proposal. Homelander tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, cherishing the feeling of your small stature in his arms. He's glad you aren't able to see his face right now, letting him hide the fact that he's blinking away forming tears.
"Yeah," he whispers. "I'd like that".
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04/28/24 Daily OFMD Recap
TLDR; David Jenkins; Nathan Foad; Damien Gerard; Watch Parties; Fan Spotlight; Cast Cards; OFMD Colouring Pages; Community Q's Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;
== Cast & Crew Sightings ==
= David Jenkins =
I think this picture speaks for itself.
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Img Src: @simonenathan Twitter
= Nathan Foad =
More Love's Labour's Lost with Nathan! So good to see him having such a great time!
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Img Src: Nathan's IG
= Damien Gerard =
Our crewmate @/rosiemegglemoth on twitter saw Damien this weekend and he got to meet little Edward! I've seen Edward travel all over the place and I'm loving that he and Damien got to meet up <3 Thank you Rosy Meggie Moth for letting me share this with everyone!
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@rosiemegglemoth's Twitter
== Watch Parties ==
= Palm Royale =
Palm Royale WP May 2 via @LCWebsXOXO with the lovely @/dominicburgess approx. 4pm EDT/9pm BST/1pm PST!
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= Wrecked Season 1 =
Another week of Wrecked Season 1 is on the docket! Don't have access? Reach out to me on @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr, or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.
Days: Apr 29 - May 3
Times: 3:30 pm PT / 6:30 pm ET / 11:30 pm BST
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== Fan Spotlight ==
= Cast Cards =
Tonight's cast card is Pop Pop's Son! Thanks @melvisik for bringing him in too! I thought he looked familiar.
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== OFMD Colouring Pages ==
Thank you @patchworkpiratebear for more colouring pages! This time featuring Calypso's Birthday!
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== Community Q's ==
Starting something new today friends! I want to hear from you all!
What's your favorite interview featuring the OFMD cast?
It could be just Rhys or Taika and Rhys, or just David, or just Samson, or any number of cast members! It could even just be an interview of a cast member for another movie or show they did (doesn't have to be ofmd related except that an actor/actress also played in OFMD)! I just would love to hear what your favorite cast interviews are-- and if you have a link to it even better!
== Love Notes ==
Hey Lovelies. I'm sorry it's been so hard lately. Everyone I talk to seems to be struggling in one way or another right now, and I know it's been a lot. Remember to vent if you can-- even if a lots been happening for a while, you're not a burden if you need to vent again.
We all go through so much in our lives, and sometimes those hard times go for a lot longer than we'd like, we're allowed to be just as frustrated with them as we were the first as the 100th day we're dealing with them.
But you know what? You're so incredibly resilient lovelies. Seriously, look at you. Look at you getting through each day even when things are tough. If you had a great day, or you cried your eyes out, the fact that you're still here is so incredibly important.
YOU are so incredibly important. I know sometimes it feels like we are our struggles, but you are so very much more than them. Your struggles might be chronic, you may never be rid of them, or they may be temporary, so please, feel them, fight them, experience them, learn from them, but know that when you come out of them at the end of the day you are not those struggles.
They influence you, and they are a piece of you, but they are not the whole of you. You are a wonderful, kind, an beautiful individual that means so much to so many people, and you are so very complex and you have so many sides to you.
You are wonderful lovelies. Remember that. Good luck this week, I'm rooting for you so hard.
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Img Src: @goldiealexx Instagram
== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==
I always come back to this being one of my favorite interviews so that's tonight's theme, fav interviews. Today's gif courtesy of @celluloidbroomcloset
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