#Unloading Arms Systems

[midseo]

Prover Tanks, Prover Tank Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, India

Prover Tanks, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

Prover Tanks, Loading Arm, Loading Arms, Unloading Arm, Unloading Arms, Loading Arms System, Loading Arms Systems, Unloading Arms System, Unloading Arms Systems, Swivel Joint, Swivel Joints, Floating Suction Assemblies, Floating Suction Assembly, Prover Tank, Prover Tanks, Storage Tank, Storage Tanks, Storage Tank, Storage Tanks, Rotary Joint, Rotary Joints, Mechanical Seal Support System, Mechanical Seal Support Systems, Thermosyphon, Thermosyphons, Heat Exchanger, Heat Exchangers, Test Aider, Test Aiders, Fluid Handling System, Fluid Handling Systems, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

[ink-n-shadow]

mafia!ghost comes strolling into his office, expecting you to be standing at his desk unloading your case of firearms, only to be horrifically mistaken when you kick the back of his knee and force him to kneel.

before ghost can even blink, you have your arm locked around his throat in a headlock and the muzzle of a gun pressed against his temple—and he swears he’s never been harder in his fucking life.

“that was cute. y’ get it all outta yer system, birdie?”

“i will once i pull this fuckin’ trigger”

“make sure the safety’s off”

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"It's priced reasonably..."

Preview: The boys' reactions to you buying things on impulse/on a discount! (Let's be fair, we all know they are all rich af, but I personally wanna give it a slice of life touch for them <3)

SYLUS

The big man you call your boyfriend stares at you when you stepped in through the front door with multiple bags loaded in your small palms. You had told him earlier on that you were going for window shopping and he was all too kind to give you his card and to ask you to use whenever you seem fit. However, coming over a huge discount on groceries are rare hence you had decided to use it as you 'deem it fit'. Sylus did noticed his phone's notifications going off a couple of times to alert him about transactions made on his card.

Instead of him looking at it, he would just mute the notifications and continue his humming while he seats himself comfortably on the couch and watches the news broadcast. "You had fun shopping, kitten?" He smirked, walking over to you to help you with the bags. "Next time, bring me along. I would like to see how my kitten makes good use of my card." Yet, you apologised for having to use his card when you told him you were supposedly going for window shopping but the man laughed in response, finding your apology to be adorable. "No more apologies kitten for I am not a stingy man."

RAFAYEL

Whilst on a shopping trip with Rafayel, this man would splurge on you. Apparently in this case, he would take up the role of the impulsive buyer rather than you. You eyeing something for more than 3 seconds? Considered it bought. You mentioning about something more than 3 times? Considered it purchased. You imagining something that may look good on him? Considered it a done deal. This man has no fear nor worry of ever going bankrupt as long as you're satisfied.

Staring at the huge lorry outside of his mansion, unloading everything you had mentioned would definitely put you in a state of shocked. Your boyfriend would approach you casually, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. You would definitely question him on his purchasing behaviour but he would pout. "Gift giving and impulse buying goes hand in hand, and I do not see the reason why I should not be spoiling my cutie." Seeing you smile, he would continue. "It is just one of the ways I can show you that I love you, so don't hold me back on that, yeah?"

XAVIER

Grocery shopping with Xavier would be like going on a hunt for rare breeds of wanderers. Anything that are on discount would not be missed, especially with both of your sharp eyesights. However, you and Xavier are not known to be impulsive buyers. More like calculative buyers, the both of you seemingly carry a bit of a girl math's mentality. Other than necessities, anything that is supplemental to the house would be assessed for its usability and longevity. It is a perk the both of you would sometimes fight or bond over.

But if the discount is worth the product, then none of you would get it on the spot. You would have your moments where you would get something out of the blue, without running through your usual girl-math calculations, and you would be met with the quirk of an eyebrow from your boyfriend. "I suppose we lack this in our house." He would secretly do the math in his head but would never say anything to intentionally make you feel bad. "Yeah, we can make this work, no worries." Then, he would pull the same stunt as you, showing you something that he had got out of the blue as well.

ZAYNE

You would give Zayne a headache sometimes. Your childlike curiousity for interesting and new items would prompt Zayne to take on the role of a father figure. He might sometimes go as far as to suspect you may have a slight hint of ADHD in your system, but other than a slight migraine, he finds the quirk in you to be specifically unique to you. And, he never complains. Being the gentleman he is, he accepts you for who you are and tries to work his way around you whenever he could manage.

"Do you think you really need that?" He would point at the stuffed toys you are holding in your arms. Your point being all of them are begging you to adopt them with their big googly eyes. "Y/n, you might just have to pick one for adoption." Your slack-jawed expression would make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose slightly before he serves you a reminder of the consequences for your behaviour. "You had adopted exactly 36 plushies, and now, only 5 of them are actually adopted on your bed, while the rest of them are abandoned in your closet. So y/n, which one do you plan to ACTUALLY adopt now hmm?"

[http-shield]

you offering?- bucky barnes unhinged!avenger reader x bucky

a/n: this was the first draft of smash (in a loving way) which is why some lines are the same.

Moving day swiftly degenerated into chaos as more and more boxes were unloaded from the truck. Theoretically, Steve and Bucky should not have that many possessions, seeing as neither of them had lived very long lives in the new century; however, as box after box is carried in, you realise you couldn't be further off base.

Steve shouts down the hall, alerting you of their arrival (having smacked headfirst into you with a box full of record hours earlier, you had developed the system of very loudly announcing yourselves before walking into narrow spaces). You turn to the hallway, ready to semi-jokingly tell Steve off for all the free labour he had managed to squeeze of you, but your brain short circuits as Bucky walks in. The long-sleeved shirt had turned up in has long since been discarded. Instead, he is sporting a black tank top showcasing a stunning display of his muscled arms and shoulders. Unable to look away, you follow the veins along muscled forearms, sweat glistening in the afternoon sun, vibranium fingers humming as they glide over the tops of the box, his hair pulled back in a bun sitting low at the nape of his neck and those godforsaken strands that hang over his eyes leave you thinking about the way they would feel brushing over your thighs.

"You're drooling." You jump, startled by Steve's amused whisper, as he stands behind you, cast iron pot in his hands.

"Ha.Ha." The retort is weak, mind too preoccupied with thoughts of your friend to conjure a coherent sentence.

"Seriously. You gotta bit'a...." Steve wipes the side of his mouth with his thumb, smirk growing as he continues to tease.

"You need to get outta here before I punch you in the face." you whirl on him, warning through clenched teeth. "I will fight you, old man."

He backs away, raising his hands in defeat. "Kids these days, can't take a joke."

-----

An Ikea flatpack sits on the floor of the living room. The name and instructions unreadable as the three of your stare a the unbuilt couch frame.

"You bought a box?" Bucky turns to Steve, brows raised as he gestures to the floor.

"It's a sofa, Buck. We just need to build it." the former sighs, crouching down to examine the slip of paper it came with. "We just need to learn Swedish."

Bucky follows suit and squats, grumbling something about knowing 30 languages but unable to put together a stupid piece of furniture.

You debate joining them, adding a new brain to the equation, but as if it were your turn to take that single cell passed between the three of you, you reach for your laptop and begin your search.

30 minutes later, the frame is complete. The cushions, however, are nowhere to be found.

"Did you not order them?" you ask, eyes still trained on the screen as the two super soldiers stare at the incomplete project.

"I didn't know I was meant to!" Steve is quick to defend his mistake. "If you buy the couch, it comes with it."

It's not a completely irrational thought. It's common sense really. You buy a couch it must come with cushions, so why didn't this one?

Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So we have one bed and couch frame? Where am I meant to sleep, Steve?"

"You can sleep with me." You mumble as you scroll through ikea website, searching for the accompanying pillows.

"Is that you offering?" Bucky asks, and for a second, you are confused by the question, but as you look up from the screen, you find both men staring at you. Ah, the super hearing caused by the super serum. Super.

"Offering what?" you play dumb, biting down on the tip of your thumb, hoping he can't hear your heart slamming in your chest.

"Just thought you were offerin' to have me sleep with you but I guess I heard wrong." Bucky smirks and shrugs. "Guess ill have to take all this " he begins to flex, making an obvious show of his muscles. "and sleep on the floor."

You bite down on your finger in a futile attempt to hide the smile that is forming. "Guess so."

Bucky frowns, sad, wide puppy eyes staring at you. "Come on, doll. Don't make me beg."

Heat flashes through you and your heart picks up speed again. "You can beg for it, Barnes, doesn't mean I'll let ya' " your voice shakes a little, but you can hide it behind a smug chuckle.

Bucky's tongue darts out to wet his lips as he begins to retort but Steve's cough stops you both. The Captain's face is crinkled in disgust as he stares.

"Could you save this till I'm not in the room?"

[siratonin]

BuckTommy Ι WC: 2.5k Ι cw: gunshot, blood, hostage situation (implied i think)

[below or on ao3]

The chopper finally crested the horizon, its rotors cutting the air like thunder. The unmistakable shape of Tommy’s bird. Buck’s heart kicked so hard it stole his breath.

He stood at the edge of the landing zone, shoes sunk into the dirt, hands clenched into fists.

He’s coming back, for real this time.

They said it was a success. The rescue team Tommy was flying were the first to escape. And the rest—it had been finalized by now—A success.

But Buck couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cheer. Not yet. Not without seeing him first.

The chopper descended slow, steady.

And Buck waited.

*

[four hours earlier]

By the time the tactical teams arrived, Tommy had been held at gunpoint for hours—forced to fly, move equipment, keep the bird in the air while they unloaded chemicals for god knows what.

He was dehydrated, bruised, but alive.

…And stupid.

Because the first thing he did after they pulled him from the chopper was chug a bottle of water and say, “I know what they’re planning. Let me help stop them. Let me help save my guy.”

Everyone hesitated. But he was former military. He knew how they operated. He’d seen the inside.

And just like that, he was in again.

Buck had gone up, on the helipad where Tommy was waiting alone for the team to gather. It was sunset time, soft light spilling gold across the rooftop. Tommy sat on a crate, elbows on his knees, head down.

Buck sat beside him. “That was clever, what you said.”

Tommy looked over, eyes dull but alert. He managed a half-smile.

“Knew you’d catch it.”

Buck gestured to the side of his own face, mimicking the angle of Tommy’s darkening bruise.

“You okay?”

Tommy laughed. “Yeah. Tried to run once. You know. Wasn't clever.”

He rubbed his jaw, the bruise spreading down his neck.

“I got this… And my probie—he got shot in the foot, Evan... I- need him to be alive.”

Buck swallowed, nodding slowly. “H-He will… they’ll get him home.”

Tommy looked down at his hands, flexed his fingers once, then again.

“I keep thinking…” he said quietly, eyes still on his hands. “If I’d just been smarter. If I’d questioned it harder. I knew it didn’t feel right.”

His jaw clenched.

“I shouldn’t have landed. I shouldn’t have let us walk right into it.”

Buck opened his mouth, but Tommy shook his head before he could speak.

“He trusted me, Evan. First shift out, and I walked him into a trap.”

“You didn’t plan this…”

“It should be me out there with them right now.”

Buck blinked hard. “You’re not invincible, Tommy.”

“I know.”

Tommy’s voice cracked, just for a moment. “But I can handle it—myself, I’ve done this before. He’s hasn’t.”

“Tommy—”

The team started coming up—voices echoing, boots scuffing against the roof.

Tommy moved to stand, but Buck reached out and grabbed his arm before he could climb back into the second chopper, voice low and breaking

“You almost died in there. Can you just—please, can you not be a hero for once? Let them do it?”

“Evan…”

Buck’s grip on Tommy’s arm tightened, not like a firefighter trying to hold someone back, but like a man trying to stop his whole world from walking away.

“I-I saw your name in the system—‘non-responsive pilot.’ I thought… shit, Tommy, I thought you were—” He shook his head, voice cracking. “I thought I’d never get the chance to talk to you again. After w-what I said last time—Tommy, I-I didn’t mean it. I swear, I didn’t. Please just let me explain. Just... s-stay. You can’t just run back in like none of this matters. Like we don’t matter.”

“It matters,” Tommy said quietly. “You matter. We matter. But—”

“Then stay.” Buck’s voice cracked. “Stay and talk to me. Please. You’re not okay—w-we’re not okay. You left and we never—” He bit the inside of his cheek. “We never got to fix it.”

Tommy adjusted his vest, fingers steady but slow. He looked up finally, eyes tired but clear.

“We can—w-we will.” He reached out briefly, brushed the back of Buck’s hand with his knuckles.

Buck’s voice softened, pleading now. “You’re tired, Tommy. Let the team handle it.”

Tommy shook his head.

“It’ll be faster if I go. I’ve been flying around for them for almost thirty hours—I have it mapped. I know the terrain. I know where they might move.”

He hesitated, just a beat.

“I’ll come back, Evan. We’ll talk… After this... I got him into this. I should be the one keeping him safe.” His jaw tightened. “Not sitting here waiting while someone else does it for me.”

And he was gone.

*

[the present]

The chopper touched down.

The team ran forward to meet the medics—laughing, breathless, covered in ash and adrenaline. Tommy’s probie was limping, clearly injured, but alive. He’d be okay.

One of them shouted over the noise, grinning wide— “Kinard’s a damn legend! He flew us through open fire— no one else could’ve done it.”

Another added, breathless and awed—“That’s a damn good soldier! He flew us through hell no one else could’ve pulled that off!”

Buck’s chest swelled with pride. He wanted to kiss Tommy for all this—just as much as he wanted to smack him.

But he didn’t come out yet.

The pilot side was still shut. And Buck was done waiting.

So, He ran… He climbed up, shoes slipping a little against the slick metal. He yanked the door open—

—and the world dropped out from under him.

Tommy was slumped forward in the seat. One hand still rested against the control stick. The other was pressed weakly to his side, red soaking his flight suit through his fingers in thick, pulsing waves.

His head lolled toward Buck at the movement, lips parted, breathing shallow.

“Hey,” Tommy mumbled, voice wet and strained. “Took you long enough,”

“T-Tommy—” Buck’s voice cracked. He unbuckled him fast, hands shaking, then moved Tommy’s trembling hand aside to press his own against the wound.

“Shit—shit, Tommy, that’s a lot of blood.”

Tommy blinked slowly, dazed. “Didn’t… notice at the time.” He had, though. Somewhere between the smoke and fire. He just hadn’t cared.

A pause. A weak breath. “I was still flying… Think adrenaline was doing the flying.”

Buck pulled him out of the cockpit, lowering him to the dirt as gently as he could—but Tommy still tensed with a sharp, guttural groan.

“Ah—fuck—” Tommy hissed, every movement sending pain ripping through his side. His eyes fluttered, breath catching. “God, that hurts, Evan...”

Buck cradled his head with one hand and pressed the other hard into the wound. Blood coated his palm instantly—warm and thick.

Stomach wound. Close to the liver. Too much blood. Too fast.

“Help!” Buck shouted, voice breaking. “Medics! I need medics—now!”

Chaos spun around him—shouting, boots hitting the ground, someone calling for a trauma bag.

Tommy winced, blinking hard. “Is everyone okay?”

Buck’s face twisted. “No, Tommy��everyone is not okay!”

Tommy tried to focus, lashes fluttering. “Who’s hurt?”

“You are, you stubborn idiot.”

“Oh…” Tommy breathed, barely audible. “Anyone ’lse?”

Hen’s voice snapped through the noise, “Buck—move your hand for just a second—Chimney, start a line!”

Then, softer, as she knelt beside them “Hey, Tommy. We got you, okay? Stay with us.”

Her hands moved fast across his vest, lifting it enough to see the soaked undershirt beneath.

“Damn. It got him under the edge,” she muttered. “Vest didn’t catch it.”

Chimney dropped to his knees on the other side, already tearing open gauze and pushing gloves on with shaking hands.

“What the hell happened?”

“He was flying bleeding out, that’s what happened!” Buck yelled, barely keeping it together. “He didn’t tell anyone—he didn’t—”

“’didn’t.. know Ev’n!” Tommy protested

Chimney let out a breath, almost a laugh, even as he started placing the Life Pak. “Always trying to be cool, Tommy.”

“Okay, okay,” Hen said firmly. “We’ve got him. You did good, Buck. Just stay with us.”

But Buck couldn’t stop pressing, couldn’t stop staring at Tommy’s face—already too pale, lips tinged red from what he’d coughed up just moments earlier.

Tommy blinked slowly, smile fading.

His hand lifted, trembling, streaked with blood—and he reached out, brushing Buck’s cheek.

“H-hey… Ev—’s okay…” Tommy slurred, barely audible. “It doesn’t h’rt..”

Buck caught it—his own hand rising to cover Tommy’s, holding it in place against his face, grounding them both.

“Jesus Tommy—we’ve got you. Just—”

“‘s so dark… can’t see y’” His fingertips left a red smear across Buck’s face, like he was trying to memorize him with what little strength he had left.

“S-sorry.”

For the blood. For getting hurt. For a thousand things he never fixed.

Buck shook his head, eyes glassy. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Tommy—you’re okay. Just stay with us. Please.”

Tommy coughed—hard—blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth.

His eyes fluttered. His lips moved again, slower, more effort now.

“Jus’… so y’know… Evan…” A breath. Shaky. Fragile. “Wasn’t… jus’ a code. I did… love you. I love y’. Ne’er… stopped.”

Buck’s breath hitched.

His eyes slammed shut for half a second, like the words physically struck him—and when they opened again, they were full of tears. His grip on Tommy’s hand tightened. He leaned in, forehead almost brushing Tommy’s, as if he could will him to stay.

His lips parted again, weaker this time.

“Didn’t mean to…”

Buck voice barely came out. “I know, Tommy. I know. You didn’t.”

“…M-mess it up…”

“You didn’t mess anything up. J-just stay with me—please.”

Hen’s voice cut in fast—calm, commanding. “Okay, we’ve got to move him—on my count. Chim, grab the board. Buck, I need your help.”

“Yeah—yeah, I’ve got him,” Buck said hoarsely, still gripping Tommy’s hand like a lifeline.

Chimney slid the backboard into place as Buck shifted, crouched low, one arm already under Tommy’s back, the other at his shoulders.

“Tommy, buddy, don’t make this harder than it already is—stay with us, man,” Chim muttered, voice tight. “How many times do I gotta save your life, huh?”

Tommy huffed—a breath, really, more air than sound. Almost a laugh. Then winced sharply, the motion pulling through his whole body.

“One, two, three—” Hen counted.

They lifted together—Buck moving with them, careful, steady, still murmuring under his breath: “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

They settled him onto the gurney. Straps fastened. Bag ready.

“Ev… Jus’ a min… gi’ me a… sec…” Tommy said as his eyes began to close.

“Hey—h-hey, no!” Buck’s voice shattered. “Tommy—no, stay awake—stay with me!”

Tommy’s eyes rolled back. A twitch. A sound like a breath that got lost halfway out.

The hand Buck was holding fell limp in his palm.

“Tommy?”

“We lost his pulse—he’s crashing!” Chimney shouted, voice sharp.

Buck froze.

“Tommy—? No. No no no—”

No pulse. No pulse. No pulse—

“Buck—compressions, now! I’ve got the bleed!” Hen snapped, already pressing hard into the wound with both hands. “We’ll deal with the damage later—just get his heart going!”

Buck’s hands moved on instinct before she even finished.

Chest compressions. Breath. More blood.

His voice cracked with every count.

“Please—please don’t do this to me, Tommy—”

His shoulders shook.

“You always do this, Tommy—”

He sobbed.

“You always run—this is how you run this time?! Y-you said we’d talk… you said we’d fix this—”

He broke.

“Come on… stop running, Tommy!”

His voice cracked again.

“Come on, Tommy—come on, baby, come on, come on—”

He pressed harder. Faster. Desperate.

The world spun around him—lights, sirens, shouting—but Buck only saw the man beneath his hands.

And he wasn’t letting him go.

*

It was quiet when Tommy woke up.

Too quiet from what he last remembered.

No shouting. No alarms. No wind against the rotors. No Buck yelling his name like it was the only thing left tethering him to life.

Just the slow, steady beeping of a heart monitor.

He woke up slowly.

Not all at once—just in fragments.

Pain first. Dull and deep, radiating from somewhere in his stomach. Then the weight in his chest. His throat, raw. Something pressed under his nose—oxygen.

His eyelids dragged open.

White ceiling, pale, unfamiliar. Fluorescent hum. Hospital.

For a moment, he panicked.

Shit.

His hand hurt.

Which didn’t make sense. He didn’t remember hurting his hand.

It took a few seconds—long, sluggish seconds—before he realized it wasn’t pain exactly. It was pressure. Something wrapped around it. Warm. Steady. Too tight.

His fingers twitched.

The grip jolted, just slightly—and then Tommy felt it

A breath. Right against his side.

A forehead resting lightly near his hip.

Evan.

Still here. Still holding his hand like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.

Tommy blinked slowly, exhaling a soft, rasping breath.

“’m alive?”

Buck stirred fast. Sat up. Eyes wide.

“Tommy—? Hey. Oh my God—hey—” His voice cracked with every word.

And Tommy—smiling just barely, weak and aching—whispered, “Did I mess up again?”

Buck let out a laugh that sounded half like a sob. “What? no. You scared the hell out of me, but no. You didn’t mess up anything.”

Tommy blinked slowly, groggy. “Y-you were yelling…”

Buck laughed again—shakier this time. “Yeah, well… you coded in my arms—twice, so—y-yeah. I was yelling.”

He swallowed hard.

“A-and then you were in surgery for… six hours? Seven? They wouldn’t tell us anything except ‘we’re doing what we can.’ The whole time, Tommy.” His voice cracked. “The whole time.”

“You should’ve seen you,” Buck added, voice low. “You didn’t move. But I—God, I think I forgot how to breathe until they said you made it through.”

Tommy let out a soft, broken breath. He winced. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just—don’t ever do that again.”

Tommy gave the faintest smile. “Wasn’t... part of the plan.”

Buck huffed, still gripping his hand. “Don’t make plans to be a hero again.”

Tommy’s smile twisted, wry and cracked. “Can’t promise you that.”

“I know…” Buck brought their joined hands to his chest and whispered, “You said we’d talk.”

Tommy nodded, barely. “Then let’s talk.”

Buck smiled—just a little—and looked down, eyes still wet. He nodded once. “I’ll get the nurse first.”

But he didn’t move.

The silence stretched. Still. Safe.

Then Tommy squeezed his hand.

“Evan…”

Buck’s head snapped up. “Uh—s-sorry—”

Tommy shook his head slowly. “No. S’okay…”

He smiled faintly.

“I came back.”

Buck’s tears finally gave up.

“You c-came back…”

His face broke somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and he shook his head, leaning forward until his forehead dropped gently against Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy winced at the sudden weight—but his hand moved instinctively, threading weakly through Buck’s hair.

“Shhh… s’okay, baby,” he whispered. “I’m here now. I got you.”

[ceroseis]

⋆⁺₊ ༄ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 . . . megumi fushiguro

nsfw ◞ minors dni ┊ ‧₊˚ word count : 800 cw ┊ ‧₊˚ gn!reader, college au, oral sex (m!receiving), praise, petnames (baby)

thinkin' hard abt being tsumiki's college roommate. feelin' oh-so guilty abt having a big fat crush on her little brother. as an upperclassman, you should be guiding him through his first semester of sophomore year, not blowing him in your shared bathroom while she sits on the couch, one deadbolt lock away.

megumi looks so pretty from your special place between his legs— pants shoved haphazardly down his thighs, ruddy cheeks and midnight black hair stuck to a sweaty forehead, lips bitten a beautiful cherry red in his attempt to quiet himself.

"shit-! baby, jus' like that," he hisses between his teeth, knuckles white from their iron grip on the countertop behind him.

your knees are beginning to ache, but you ignore the pins and needles in favor of doubling your efforts. as much as you'd love to take him to the hilt and watch his soul leave his body, you can't risk the noise. another time, you think. instead, your head bobs faster over his crotch, doe eyes blinking up at him as your tongue swirls around the tip.

your right hand clutches the outside of megumi's clothed calf, nails digging into black denim as the involuntary twitch of his hips threatens to cut off your air supply. he always gets like this right before he comes: his heels flex and his fingers find their way to your scalp and he'll try not to shout, but he never really succeeds and—

"ohhh my god, fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck—!"

you make sure to keep your eyes open for this part. his mouth drops open and his cheeks explode in an almost embarrassingly bright shade of red as he unloads in your mouth. that wild look in his eye is something you'll never tire of. he seems to be floating somewhere halfway between this reality and another. it never fails to make you smile.

your movements slow, but you don't pull off his cock, content to let his long, gentle fingers sweep the hair out of your face. his hand slides down to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing over the swell of your cheek. sweet, is what he is. how're you supposed to resist those flushed cheeks and whispered praises of good, so fucking good, baby, so good f'r me as he comes down from his high?

eventually, megumi's calloused palms come down to the sides of your neck, cradling your head as he guides your perfect mouth off of his softening cock.

his spend drips obscenely from your tongue, fat globs depositing themselves back onto his twitching length. a quiet giggle bubbles up from your throat at the stupefied look on his face. your hand slides all the way up his leg to wrap around the base of his dick. the other finds its way to his shaft, giving a few slow, sensual pumps, spreading his own mess over his length as it squeezes and squelches between your fingers.

you can't help but hold him over your face as you press not-so-innocent kisses to his spent balls, sucking on them one by one as your hand teases at his tip.

megumi's arm shoots out to the side to steady himself from the overstimulated buzz electrocuting the base of his skull, smacking his palm flat against the wall. he groans again, low and drawn out, and you've both fucking forgotten just where exactly you are and—

"'s everything alright, megumi?" tsumiki calls out, voice only a little muffled from the seemingly insignificant panel of wood separating you two from what would be an undoubtedly horrified look on her face.

megumi's eyes shoot open as he chokes on his own breath, mumbled curses spilling from his lips as you watch his system reboot, getting his brain back online. "y-yeah!" he replies, trying his best not to sound like he just ran a marathon. or got his dick sucked.

"you sure? i told you to stop eating random stuff in my fridge— those tuna wraps were old!"

you'd laugh out loud if it wouldn't give you away, so you settle for a teasing quirk of your brow. "bad, bad brother," you mouth, shaking your head in faux disapproval.

he curls his lip at you, peeved that you're part of this conversation at all. "'m fine! just knocked something ov-er!" he squeaks, voice cracking as you pop his tip back in your mouth.

the look he gives you is murderous, but you pay no mind to it as you suckle on his head, eyes fluttering shut, tonguing at the slit.

megumi's head falls back at the sight, his dick giving one last utterly pathetic twitch in the confines of your hot, wet mouth before the door swings open.

"you better not have broken anyth–"

horrified, indeed.

looks like you have something else to feel guilty about.

sorry, tsumiki.

@seiwas + dilly . . . thank u both for being so encouraging & so patient with me during all my writing slumps and breakdowns. i hope you enjoy. 🤍

[milliesfishes]

Hello! Can I please request something with Billy: him and reader hu one night and that’s a really big deal to her because of her past and he knows this, and then the next day she sees him in town on what she thinks is a date or something with another girly but it’s actually just a big misunderstanding and he feels horrible. Angst and fluff my beloved.

This is super specific so no worries if not :)

꣑ৎ౨ৎyou hook up with billy and then see him with another woman꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Stepping out of the general store, you stretched and adjusted the bag on your shoulder. It had been a good day- peaches had been shipped in just the day prior, and you had been able to snag a bushel. Now you looked forward to sinking your teeth into a fresh one, the juice dribbling down your chin.

The day was bright and beckoning, not a single cloud in the sky. It was the kind of day that reached its hands out to you and whispered sweet promises into your ear, filled your heart with beautiful what-ifs. Days like these were cherished in your heart, and you wondered if this sunny outlook had anything to do with last night.

You practically swayed on your feet remembering it. The dim light of the bar...a shot or two of whiskey in your system. A plethora of feelings you'd suppressed for months. And the man they were directed toward.

It was the first time you'd seen him in over a year. In the candlelight and with the brim of his hat shading his eyes, at first you weren't sure if it was really him. But then he'd split into that familiar grin, and you'd caught a glimpse of his eyes, the ones like blue pools that you always got lost in. When Billy said your name, you really knew it was him, which made stepping into his open arms that much more wonderful.

He smelled the same. Maybe his voice had a little more gravel to it. His body had definitely changed, muscles filling out what had previously been air under your arms. And suddenly you'd realized the feelings you thought had been squashed under the boot of time had never died.

It was so natural how you fell back in with each other. As though no time had passed and you'd done this every day since he'd left. Words melted into each other. Passion became your friend. And you found yourself kissing him in the alleyway outside the bar, back on the cool brick of the building.

Standing here, remembering it all now, you shook your head, realizing folks passing by must have thought you had sunstroke. Stepping away from the shade, you wandered back in the direction of your horse, unable to quell the smile that hadn't quite left since you'd awoken this morning in his arms.

He'd been so gentle last night, big hands caressing your body as though you were made of glass. The way he touched you was warm and gentle and smooth, your body responding eagerly. Little remembrances came back with each step you took. Kisses at the column of your throat, his fingers at your inner thighs, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder.

The way he'd removed your dress was like he was parting a curtain to some sacred secret. And his body pinned yours to the mattress like a flower between the pages of a book. Never before had you been touched like this, even looked at in that way. Upon opening your eyes, splayed out in his sheets, he'd treated you like an angel waking in a bed of flowers.

You weren't one to fall into a man's bed for a night. Many had tried, most had failed. And yet for Billy it hadn't taken more than an evening remembering for you to melt in his hands and give yourself to him completely. The way you'd wanted to ever since he was Billy Antrim but hadn't been able to until he had a reward under his wanted poster.

But he was still the same Billy, no matter what trailed that name. He was the one who made your heart flutter, the one who'd protected you all through your shared childhood. You unloaded your purchases into your saddlebags, dreamily imagining what it'd be like when you saw him again. This morning, you'd parted with a kiss after waking up tangled together. He hadn't let you leave until he dipped his head between your thighs one more time either. For all the times you'd imagined intimacy it had never been like this.

Lifting your eyes, you lightened when you spotted him exiting a building, looking as handsome and rugged as ever. A bubble expanded hopefully in your chest and a hand automatically flew to your hair, smoothing it before he could see you. Maybe you'd run over and-

Another woman joined him, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow and walking with him to a horse He was smiling at her. She patted his shoulder as she mounted, and he watched her all the while.

You froze, heart sinking as you surveyed the scene. Another woman. On his arm.

Devastation rained on you as if there were a cloud above your head. You brought a hand to your mouth and turned away, hiding behind your horse, who snuffled understandingly. Another...he wouldn't. He couldn't. That wasn't your Billy.

And yet your thoughts were telling you that you didn't know what had happened while he was out beyond the town limits. What kind of man he'd become. Maybe he couldn't help it now. You knew what time away in the world could do to a man, how it could gather their bones in darkness. He'd returned with whispers behind him, sordid tales dogging his footsteps.

Sniffling to yourself, you hurriedly clasped your saddlebags shut and blinked rapidly so the pathetic tears that had formed in your eyes wouldn't fall. All the while you chastised yourself. How could you have trusted him?

Your poor heart knew the answer. Because it was Billy and you loved him and you wanted him to love you too. Because you'd shared things beyond sex that would bind two people together for life. Now it wasn't just last night's memories that were flashing through your head. The past was prodding at the shell you'd hidden yourself in, bearing up the broken pieces like a weak shield.

"You okay?"

Whipping around, you were so startled that one tear escaped, trickling down your cheek. Billy's smile dropped, and you bowed your head, staring at the dirt. His hand found your shoulder and you bit the side of your cheek. "Hey...what's wrong?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, brushing it away and turning back to your saddlebags, fiddling with the snap though it was already closed.

His frown was practically audible, and the fetter of your feelings lifted your chin and turned your head to see it. Billy searched your eyes, his brow knit as if he didn't know what he'd just done. "You can tell me sweetheart."

"No thank you," you whispered, reaching for the reins, which knocked his hand off your shoulder. "Maybe you should go see about her." Nodding in the direction of the other woman, you poised yourself to mount your horse, but he braced an arm around your waist, stopping you.

He looked confused, and you pushed away a twinge of guilt. "Baby you thought...no, no no..." Billy breathed out, running a hand over his face. "No, I ain't doin' anythin' with her." He opened his eyes and gave you a look. "We did somethin'. You 'n me."

"And that something happens to mean a lot to me," you whispered, trying to keep a fresh wave of tears out of your voice. "I don't do things like that, Billy."

"I know it, honey," he soothed, hand coming to cup your cheek. "Believe me, I know." You lifted your eyes to him, saw how earnest he was. It brought back the hope that had burned out just a few minutes ago, but you didn't trust it one bit.

His eyes must have been hallowed halls of memory because now as you looked into them you were remembering. So many years of him doing things that contradicted what you had just seen. Of him guarding you from the touch of men twice your age. Him comforting you when you came to him crying on the one night he wasn't there. Him paling when you told him it was his own stepfather who'd touched you and whispered something that had made you want to peel off your own skin and fling your brain so it shattered against the wall.

You hadn't once entertained the thought of other men since that night. Since you'd been made to feel like an object that existed for one purpose. Except for Billy

He was your only exception. And now you felt as though you'd been betrayed.

All this washed over you in a wave of hurt that could have knocked you off your feet, and you bit the inside of your mouth, rapid blinking unable to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. Billy inhaled once, and before you knew it you were being pulled into his chest, face pressed to his shoulder.

To your credit you tried to pull away, but he shook his head, gently pushing your head against him. The gesture drew a little sob from your lips as your body involuntarily let down its guard. You couldn't help it- Billy had always been your rock, your harbor. Even when he was away he was a fond memory that kept you warm at night, the tale of his care for you holding you as tightly as he would have.

Now your tears were rivers on your cheeks, and you sniffled, a little noise muffled against him. Billy kept his hand at your crown, and you felt his other hand on your waist, rubbing your back carefully. "Shh, it's okay. I've gotcha sweetheart. 'm so sorry."

You finally lifted your hand to his chest, clinging to his shirt and letting him hold you close. It was like a shelter, an oasis in a desert dried out and boundless. Billy's arms were always the place you would run when things got tough. And you found that they were always open to you.

He held you until you lifted your head, suddenly conscious of the area you were in. But you found that there were very few people surrounding, simply going about their business as if you weren't crying on the shoulder of an infamous outlaw.

Billy settled his hand on your cheek again, searching your eyes. "'s it okay if I explain myself? I know that can't've looked good, darlin'." Once you slowly nodded, he continued, not once lifting his gaze from your eyes. "There was a man in there. Sayin' bad things to her. Her husband's out workin' so I stepped in to walk 'er out." He smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear, thumb rubbing your cheek. "No funny business, I swear. You're my girl."

His girl. You swallowed the burst of light in your chest and whispered, "And last night...?"

The corners of his lips turned up. "Not nothin', sweetheart. Not nothin' at all." His other hand rose to your uncovered cheek. "Seein' you in the bar last night...wasn't sure if I was dreamin' or not." Billy leaned in and touched his lips to your nose, making you smile through leftover tears. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't want it to be more."

You released a breath you didn't know you were holding. "You do?"

Billy rubbed his thumbs up and down your cheekbones, his smile widening a bit. "Yeah. I do." He nudged a kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes. "I...I've spent a year missin' you, baby. 'n last night...I wouldn't dream of givin' you anything less than what you deserve."

You slid your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his chest. "What's that?"

He adjusted, leaning his cheek against your head and making you smile. "What you really deserve's everything good in the whole world, and I can try 'n get there baby. Kisses-" his lips found your hair. "'n some good lovin'. You deserve that."

Nuzzling your cheek against his chest, playing with the back of his shirt. "Your love is more than enough."

"Hardly." Billy smoothed his hand over your hair, nose smushing to your forehead. "I'm a lucky, lucky man."

You lifted your head, tilting it back to look at him. His eyes were warm, fondly surveying you as if he were committing every part of you to memory. "Does that mean you're gonna stick around, Mr. Bonney?"

Billy grinned, and in a swift move that surprised you, he lifted you off your feet so your face was level with his. With his arms crisscrossed over your back, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours before you could ask what he was doing. His kiss chinked away any doubts that had formed like walls around your heart. They crumbled into dust, letting his essence charge forward and wrap itself around you. When he pulled back he let the tip of his nose poke yours, growing your smile.

"So long as a certain pretty girl's 'round these parts, I'm stayin."

[thedarkestrivernymph]

"Baby forget him! I'll always be there for you..♡"

warning: nsfw themes, a lil lie(s), infidelity, hurt, insecurity, fem!yandere, wlw, fantasy world

“I hate him!” another mug goes to waste. One of your best ones at that. She cringes.

Shattering on impact as it meets the sturdy craftsmanship that's your shared wooden door.

But she agreed to this, didn't she?

“Dearie—” pick, chuck, scream. You're like a machine uploading and unloading, destroying everything in sight “Love—” she tries again after wetting her lips only to be met with more shards of porcelain flying around in the air like deadly snow.

“Sweetheart!” she cries out in panic as you almost get ahold of her favourite pink mug—one of your many failed attempts at pottery.

The elf cradles it like it was made out of pure gold—her green eyes wide and warning.

“What do you even see in that ugly thing?” you scoff, bleary gaze set on the pile of multicoloured porcelain and glass that now collected in your living room. Great.

“Should’ve asked you that before you got with him.”

You bit your tongue. Nashua wasn't wrong. No matter how much you wished she was. “Touche.”

For a moment everything seemingly froze, even the leaves whipped around from the strong southern wind seemed to halt. Then she stepped closer. Her boots were heavy on the tiles, and the one particular spot moaned as usual. She really needed to have a word with the landlord.

Sighing, she let her lips stiffen into a smile.

“Better now?” her pale green hand came into view, brushing away a strand of damp hair that stubbornly stuck to your sticky cheek, “Got it out of your system?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, almost lifelessly, bringing up your arms—human and weak compared to her, imperfect in a world ruled by only the most powerful—around her in a pathetically desperate embrace.

“It's okay, love. Forget him, that douchebag is none of your concern anymore.” she cradled your skull as always while straining to meet you at eye level—tall and powerful, womanly, with soft breasts that pressed into your collarbone. Just everything you weren't in this godforsaken world, where you had been born a human. A human that couldn't even keep a drow satisfied.

Fuck. Now you were crying again.

Nashua, was quick to help you through it as always. Of course. As her hand wandered down your pants, a rather unorthodox method to help out a friend and roommate in need she must admit, but it got the job done and soon you were screaming her name, while creaming her hand. Finally. A smile slipped onto those beautiful lips of yours, unknowing that this wasn't custom in her culture.

That she only wanted you. And by the heavens finally that prick dumped you for some mindless fae, leaving you all to her. For her to look after, to pamper, to fuck, to love.

Yeah, she loved you single.

Still, which roommate didn't avenge her friend?

Her warm lips pressed to your crown, whispering a promise of death disguised as sympathy.

“Shh, I hate him, too.”

©Copyright - 2025 - thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

[mama2bears]

Starting Over Again - Chapter 4

Pairings: Tyler Owens/Female Reader

Warning: Injury, Tornado, a few swear words, near death of character

A/N: The words to the songs used in this story is “River and Highway” by Pam Tillis and “Starting Over” by Chris Stapleton. I don't own any of the lyrics or songs.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The sound of a door closing startles you awake.

“Morning!” Tyler smiles at you, holding a bag of something that smelled amazing.

“What is that I smell?” you ask, sitting up.

Tyler sits next to you on the bed as he pulls out the to go boxes, “We have a good 'ol Oklahoma breakfast here! Chicken Fried Steak with scrambled eggs and biscuits and gravy .There's donuts, cookies, sticky buns, and chips in the truck along with plenty of water for snacks.”

He gives you your box and hurries over to the dresser in the room, “I also got us coffee and orange juice. Cream or sugar for the coffee?” he asked.

“Oh...um...both.” you answer looking over the food, “Do you always eat this big for breakfast?”

“Only on days that we are planning to be out chasing most of the day. Might not be enough time to stop for lunch, so we fill up with a big breakfast and bring plenty of snacks.”

“Thank you. This all smells amazing.” you start to eat as the room grows silent.

“I am sorry about last night.” you broke the silence, you're eyes meeting Tyler's.

“What are you sorry about?” he asked.

“I am sorry I woke you up. Sorry I cried all over you.” you gave a small smile, “Sorry I unloaded my ugly past on you.”

“Don't be sorry.” he smiled softly, “I didn't mind.” he paused as he thought about his next words. Should he tell her the truth, that he believed he was falling in love with her, that he wanted to get to know her better, that he wanted more nights of her falling asleep safely in his arms? Or, should he play it safe, not knowing how she feels, wanting to give her time to move at her own pace, what felt comfortable for her..finally, he gave a small smile, “What are friends for, right?”

“Right,” you smile at him. You're both relieved and a bit saddened.. At least you knew how he felt about you now. You were friends, and that's how it should be, at least for now. You only met him yesterday. Sure, he was easy on the eyes and you felt at home wrapped in his arms...but he was a friend. You were still married to an abusive husband that may or may not be tracking you down right now. You honestly couldn't pin point exactly how you felt about Tyler. Your heart was screaming you loved him, but your mind was saying take it slow, you don't even know him. This was how you got into trouble with Lee. You were lonely and looking for love and fell for the wrong guy. You did not want to make THAT mistake again.

“Anyway, I think I got the room situation straightened out.” he stated after a moment of silence. “They gave us the wrong room yesterday. There is a couple here on vacation and they only needed one bed. They accidentally got our double room and we got the king one. We're going to pack our stuff up this morning and by the time we come back tonight they will have the rooms switched for us,” he paused, “That is if you are still okay sharing a room...”

“Yeah, that's fine,” you give him a smile.

“Great, I'll start loading up the truck and we can hit the road.”

“What's the plan for today?” You try not to notice how tight his black shirt was fitted over his chest, try not think about how he looked dripping wet or how warm and safe he felt as he held you close to him.

“You and me are going to ride together. I've got a laptop with weather radar set up in the truck. Help us track the storms, take video and photos. Boone and Lily are going to be in the other truck filming as well. Dexter and Dani will bring up the rear in the RV. Dexter is going to be helping track the storms with the systems in the RV.”

“Sounds exciting.” you nodded, eager to get started on your first day being a storm chaser.

“What's the biggest tornado you ever been in?” he asked.

“Not many big tornadoes in Tennessee.” you said, “Probably would have been an F3 that hit downtown Nashville. My mom and I were there on a weekend trip to see the Grand Ol Opry when it came though. There was an F5 during that weekend as well, but it was farther away from where we were staying. It was known as the Forgotten F5 because of the lack of news coverage. Everyone covered the tornado that hit downtown Nashville because it was so unusual for a large tornado to strike a downtown area, actually, it was the first F3 tornado to hit a downtown area in twenty years.”

“Were you scared?” he asked softly.

“Terrified! I was only a kid and I was already scared of storms...that only enhanced my fear. We had to run and take shelter in a building. Windows were breaking, glass littered the downtown streets, the sky was so dark it was like night.”

“Yet, here you are...a storm chaser chasing tornadoes...riding your fears!” he grinned.

“Riding your fears...what exactly does that mean?”

“It means you don't just face your fears, you jump in and conquer them. You can't just run and hide from it. You learn from your fears. In the case of tornadoes, we face them head on to try to learn about them, and prevent more people from getting hurt.”

“Makes sense.” you nodded, “are you scared of the storms?”

He was silent for a moment before answering, “Yes...and no. I am not scared of anything happening to me. I know the risks and I take them. I make it fun. I am scared for my team though, for those I care about...” he looks you in the eye, “I am scared for all the people in the path of the storm. We can't always stop a tornado, we can't always predict when and where it's going to hit. Sometimes, we miss it. Sometimes we are too late. That is what I fear.”

You nodded as you finished your breakfast, “That's why I wanted to get into weather. I was terrified of storms as a child, but as I got older I learned to love them. I loved the beauty and power of storms, but I hated the devastation they caused. I wanted to help find a way to warn people and to help people.”

“Well, you're in the right place then.” He grinned, “ready to ride your fears?”

“Defiantly.” you give him a smile back, feeling confident about the day and your decision to come to Oklahoma.

* * * * *

Lee sat staring at his computer, “I will find you, Y/N. I swear, you can't hide from me forever.”

He typed in your name again and was about to give up, not finding any results until...

“Who's the new mystery girl with the Wranglers?”

Lee clicked the link and found varies videos and photos from fans for a group called The Tornado Wranglers, who currently appeared to be in Oklahoma.

There, he found a picture of a woman standing next to a red Dodge Ram with a bunch of equipment attached to it. To Lee it looked like one of them tornado trucks.

“Who's the new mystery girl with the Wranglers?” the poster asked.

“She just showed up yesterday, I saw her and Tyler at a restaurant. They haven't introduced her yet. Maybe she's a girlfriend?” another poster stated.

Lee zoomed in on the photo and grinned, “So...Oklahoma.” he muttered, “not far enough. Not far enough at all.” he clicked on the link that lead him to the Tornado Wranglers YouTube channel.

After a few videos, he figured out that the team was currently in El Reno Oklahoma and the photos from the fans proved it was differently his Y/N hanging out with them.

* * * * *

“Any leads yet?” Tyler asked you as the team drove though a lonely country road. So far, the day had not seen much action.

“Here, just west of here.” you point on the radar, “it looks to be getting high and that hook is forming.”

Tyler glances at the radar and nods in agreement, “Dexter, what about that cell just to the west?”

“I am watching that one, Ty. Looks promising. What does Y/N think?” he called back.

Tyler flashed you a grin, “Ah, she agrees! That's where we're heading!”

You smiled to yourself as you looked out the window at the building storm. You were happy to have made a good decision, a step in the right direction, proving that you did know a little something about storms.

“THERE!”you shout, We got a funnel!” You pull out your camera and start filming the development of the twister.

“Hang on...we're going in!” Tyler grinned, jerking the truck to the right and though an open field.

You let out a scream of surprise and grab for the dash, “What the hell do you mean we're GOING IN!”

“Ride your fears baby, ride your fears!” Tyler yelled out, parking a mere feet from the now fully developed tornado, “Look at her! She's beauty!” he screamed over the roaring winds, but he was looking more at you then the tornado as he mashed the button, anchoring the truck to the ground. “Hang on!” he yelled.

You hold the video camera with one hand, keeping a death grip on the dashboard with the other. You couldn't believe what was happening. The tornado was going to go right over you.

“Tyler, is this SAFE?” you yell.

“Sure it is! This looks to be a EF2, maybe EF3. Depends on the damage it does. This truck is good up to EF4.”

And then the truck was surrounded by a whirling black cloud, debris bouncing off the metal with big thuds, pops, and bangs. The roaring of the wind and the shaking of the truck felt and sounded like a freight train running right over you.”

And just like that, as quickly as it started...it was over.

You looked at Tyler with a huge grin, “Oh my GOD! That was a freaking tornado! We were INSIDE of a TORNADO!” you shouted.

“Nothing like it, now is there?” he flashed you a grin.

“Thank you...” you smile at him.

“For what?” he asked, “putting you in the path of a tornado?”

“For giving me a chance...for giving me this experience..for being there.” You shrugged. You didn't know how to put into words everything you were feeling. This man gave you a job without even knowing if you were telling the truth. He was willing to give up his hotel room so you could be comfortable. He held you in his arms last night when you woke up screaming from a nightmare. He has done everything he could since you met him to make sure you were safe and taken care of. Then, he gives you the experience of a lifetime by driving directly into a tornado.

“Anytime, Darling.” Tyler smiled at you, “This tornado seemed to be a little short lived, but lets drive though town and make sure everyone is okay. If the radar still looks quiet we could grabs some dinner.”

“Sounds good.” you agreed.

“We're taking a ride though town, make sure everyone is okay. If all is good and radar is quiet we'll grab something to eat.” Tyler called over the radio as the trio of vehicles made a turn into town.

As you rode though the town, gazing out the window, you were thankful that it appeared that the only damage was to some trees and power lines, maybe some roof shingles and windows. Everyone looked to be okay.

“What you see on radar?” he asked you.

“Not much of anything. All the storms seemed to have died out for the day.”

“Let's call it a day, guys.” Tyler radioed, then looked at you, “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked.

“Sure.” you shrugged.

“I am going to take Y/N for a little tour and lunch. How about we meet up back at the hotel later tonight and we'll make our plan for tomorrow?”

“Sounds good Ty.” Lily confirmed.

“See you tonight.” Dani agreed.

“Hey, don't do anything I wouldn't do!” Boone yelled into the radio, making you blush a little.

“Idiot.” Tyler laughed.

“There's a sandwich shop on up the road here, do you mind if we take it to go?”

“No, not at all.”

Tyler pulled into the parking lot and hurried around the truck, opening the door for you before you had the chance. He started to reach for your hand as you walked towards the little shop, but decided against it. You hadn't lend him to believe you wanted anything more then friends, but he was determined to be there if and when you changed your mind. He stepped a bit ahead of you instead and opened the door to the shop.

“What will it be?” he asked as you two looked over the menu above the counter.

“All American sub with mayo.” you answer

Tyler placed the order for the two sandwiches, drinks and chips and you two walk back to the truck.

“So, where are you taking me?” You asked when he opened the truck door for you again.

“To a little slice of heaven on Earth.” he grinned, giving you a wink, “It's only a few miles up the road.”

Within minutes, Tyler turned next to a sign that read 'Lake El Reno Park'

“There's a creek that runs into this lake, called Fourmile Creek” he told you.

“Let me guess...it's four miles long.” you grin.

“Yep!” Tyler smiled, “It feeds into the lake and there's a bridge that goes over the river...” he paused, “It's just a nice place for a picnic I thought.”

“Sounds beautiful.” you smile as he parks and collects the food bag and a blanket. You open the door and get out this time before he gets around to open it for you.

“Hey...that's my job,” he pretended to pout.

“I am a big girl and I know how to open my own doors.” you stated.

“But I like to open them for you.”

“Alright, next time.” you agree.

Tyler spreads the blanket down and you set out the sandwiches, chips and drinks and take a seat next to him.

“Oh...one more thing I forgot.” he grabbed his keys and sprinted back to the truck. A moment later he returned with a guitar.

“You sing?” she asked.

“I try.” he laughed. “There's a old country song that this place reminds me of.” he said, strumming a few cords. “Um, here, let me just sing a few verses for you.” he starts playing the music and softly sings

And he rolls, he's a highway. Where he goes, time will tell. Heaven knows, she can't go with him. And he rolls, all by himself. All by himself.

But every now and then, He offers her a shoulder. And every now and then She overflows. And every now and then A bridge crosses over. It's a moment, every lover knows.

And she rolls She's a river Where she goes Time will tell.

Tyler trailed off seeing a tear roll down your cheek.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked, setting the guitar to the side, “I am sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”

“No...no you didn't. It's a beautiful song, one I have loved for a long time.” you whisper then smile at him. “I never figured you for the romantic type.”

He shrugs it off picking up his sandwich, “Aw, it's just that I can kinda relate to the song is all.”

“Is there a special someone in your life? Or was there?” you ask, almost afraid of the answer.

He locks his eyes on yours, “There hasn't been. I dated...a lot...but there hasn't been that special someone..” he wanted to say, 'until now.' but he decided to hold it in, for now.

You both finish your lunch and make small talk about the chase of that day and team. Tyler cleans up the trash and sits back down next to you.

“It's so peaceful and quiet out here.” he said softly, watching the sun go lower on the horizon.

“Yeah, it is.” you agree, “I miss this. Before Lee, I used to love hiking though the mountains, or taking a quiet boat ride on the lake. Some days I would go into the woods, climb up in a tree and just read a book.”

“I'd like to do that sometime.” Tyler turned and locked his eyes on yours, “with you. Maybe you can take me to Tennessee and show me the mountains you loved, or we can spend the day cruising a lake. Maybe I could take you up to the Ozark Mountains around my home town.”

“I'd like that.” you smiled.

“One more song before we head back?” he asked picking up the old guitar. “There's another one that seems to be running though my head. Sometimes...I can say what I want in a song better then I can words.”

“Really? I am the same way. The song speaks to what I am feeling and can't say.”

Tyler strums a few cords and smiles softly at you, “You are the only person I have met that understands that. OK, so here it goes.."

And it don't matter to me Wherever we are is where I wanna be And honey, for once in our life Let's take our chances and roll the dice I can be your lucky penny You can be my four-leaf clover Starting over

This might not be an easy time There's rivers to cross and hills to climb Some days we might fall apart And some nights might feel cold and dark

But nobody wins, afraid of losing And the hard roads are the ones worth choosing Someday we'll look back and smile And know it was worth every mile

He lays the guitar down and reaches for your hand, “Y/N. I am sorry about this morning.”

You frown, “What about this morning?”

“I referred to us as friends.” he sighed, “We are friends, always will be. I'd like to be something more with you though. That's what I am trying to say in these songs because Lord knows I am not good with words and I am not good at showing my feelings. I know we only met yesterday, but I believe in love at first sight. I knew I was going to love you the moment you stepped off that bus. There was a connection there and I can't explain it. We'll take this as slow as you want, I am not going anywhere.” his eyes glistened with tears, “I hate that you've been hurt in the past. I wish I was there to save you then, but I am here now. I swear I will never do anything intentionally to hurt you. I'd like for us to date, hang out, whatever you want to call it. I want to be with you as much as you will have me. I want us to be a team, to be friends, and to be more...when you are ready.”

“I want that too.” you whisper, “I never felt this way about anyone. Not even Lee. I was lonely and scared and looking for love and I thought I was in love with him...but now that I've met you...I can't explain what this feeling is. It's so much more then I have ever felt before for anyone. I feel safe with you. I feel comfortable with you. You feel like home, and when I say that, I mean the home I grew up in. A home that was my safe place. A home where I was loved and felt like I belonged. I haven't known a home in a very long time, but I believe I have found it with you.”

Tyler leaned in slowly and paused, waiting for your permission. Waiting to see if you would lean in or pull away. His eyes gazed into yours and you felt butterflies in your stomach as you leaned forward and brushed your lips against his. He wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss.

A clap of thunder made you jump as lighting streaked across the sky.

“Well, I knew there sparks between us, but that was amazing.” Tyler grinned, standing up and helping you up. “Let's get to the truck before the skies open up.”

Tyler holds the blanket and guitar with one hand and your hand with the other as you both run for the truck.

“Where's the keys?” he asked checking his pocket where they were suppose to be.

You look around the ground and inside the truck and spot the keys and cell phone on the backseat.

“Tyler...those keys?” you grin.

“Oh no. no. no. no.” he pulls on the doors but they were locked.

“Okay,” he sighed, “You got your phone? We'll call someone out here to unlock the truck. I must have left them there on the seat when I got the guitar.”

“My phone is in the truck. I didn't think there was a reason to bring it just for a picnic. I am sorry.” you muttered as the rain began to pour down.

“It's okay.” he wrapped you in a hug, but looked at the sky with concern.

The air pressure was changing and you picked up on it too. Wind swirled around you and suddenly from inside the truck you heard the alerts go off on your phones.

Tyler quickly scanned the area for a safe place to go. “There!” he pointed to a ditch next to the river, “Go!”

He runs behind you pushing you towards the ditch as debris fly around. “Down!” he yelled over the roaring winds as he pushes you into the ditch, throwing his body over yours and pushing you as close to the ground as he could. He covered your head with one arm and kept the other arm wrapped around you. “Just hang on, it's going to be okay!” he promised.

You hear trees snapping in half, feel the pounding of the rain, you feel the wind trying to suck you up...and suddenly, Tyler screams out in pain and you feel his body get shoved against yours.

“TYLER!” You scream grabbing his arm that was still tightly holding you. “TYLER! YOU OK?”

“I am okay.” he promised as he gasped for air, “I think it was a tree that fell on top of us. You okay?” he asked. He felt what he assumed to be sharp broken off branches cutting deep into his leg, the weight of the tree pinned against his back.

“Yeah, I am okay.” you told him as the winds finally calmed down. The rain continued to beat down in sheets. Tyler was laying against you gasping for air.

“Tyler?” you were worried when he didn't move. Were you trapped? How badly was he injured?

Tyler laid there, feeling the blood running down his leg. He knew he couldn't get himself out, but he was damn sure going to do whatever he could to get you out.

“I am stuck here pretty good.” He finally answered, not wanting to concern you, “I am going to try to left up a little. I want you to get out from under me and go get help.”

“Tyler, no...I can't leave you.”

“Y/N...I don't know if there's more twisters out here or not. This rain pouring down could lead to flooding. The river is literally right next to us. I will be okay, we just need some help lifting this.”His body collapsed against yours as he worked to catch his breath again and you knew there was something more serious wrong.

“OK.” you agree, knowing that you weren't going to leave him, but also not wanting to waste his energy arguing about it.

“Ready?” he gasped, fighting against the pain. He had to remain conscious, at least until he knew you were free.

“Ready.” you answered.

Tyler screamed in pain as he pushed up against the tree and collapsed back against you. “Too heavy.” he gasped his body seemed to go limp.

“Tyler...stay with me.” you pleaded, trying to wiggle enough room to at least turn around and look at him and see how badly he was injured.

“I'm here.” he muttered, “just...need...to rest.”

You both lay in silence for a moment, the unrelenting rain washing over you. The rain was so intense that at first you didn't notice the water filling the ditch. It wasn't much, but you could tell it was raising.

“Tyler...water. We got to get out of here.”

Panic raced though his body. Water was filling the ditch, it was flooding...and he had you pinned face down. He was trying to protect you...now he was your death trap. He had to move, even if it killed him. He had to ignore the pain and move so you could be free.

“Y/N..listen to me.” he gasped. “I am going to move this thing.” he paused catching his breath.”You don't worry about me. You fight, you get out of here. You will drown if you stay pinned under me, and that in itself will kill me. I will NOT be a cause of pain for you. You get out of here and get help. Please Y/N...I need to know you will be alright.”

“Okay, I will.” you promise though the tears, “Tyler...I love you. I love you like I have never loved before.”

He laid his face against yours and kissed your cheek softly, “I love you too baby girl. Hang on, we will get through this. We will get through this and I will show you the love you deserve.” he choked back his own tears, trying to hide the pain in his voice. He didn't think he was going to get out of this one, but he dame sure was going to try.

Tyler took a deep breath, “Okay, on the count of three. I lift and you get out of here..one...two..THREE!” he lifted with all his might, ignoring the pain raging though his body.

If anything good was coming from the rising water, it was making the ground softer. You pulled and felt yourself sliding free. “I am out!” You yelled, scrambling to your feet as quickly as possible.

Tyler collapsed back to the ground, now having to raise his head to keep it above water as he gasped for air. “Go...go get help.” he pleaded as his eyes drifted close and he slumped face first into the ever rising water.

“NO! TYLER!” You hold his head above water, “please, you gotta stay with me. Help me...I need you to help me.”

He moaned hearing your voice calling to him. You needed him. He had to fight to stay awake. “I am here.” he muttered.

“I am going to try to move this tree and free you. Stay with me..hold your head up for me so I can try to free you.”

“Hmm hmm.” he muttered.

“TYLER!” you screamed.

He jolted awake.”I am here. I am here.”

“We gotta hurry, the water is rushing in now, but it might help me to move this off of you.” you looked at the mangled tree that was pinning his waist to the ground.

Tyler nodded, holding his head as far up as he could. You push against the tree, going with the flow of the water. Tyler screams out in pain but you keep pushing, you can't stop. If you stop, he drowns.

Slowly the tree shifts, and Tyler is able to roll over on his back and start to pull himself out, but suddenly the tree rolls back, crashing into his chest and completely pinning him under the rushing water.

“Oh God no! TYLER!” You scream, trying to lift his head up, but the water is just too deep and the tree was pined against his chest.

He was glad for one thing, the water was washing the tears in his eyes away. This was it..this was how he was going to die. He was going to drown. He always figured it would be a tornado that took him out, but he never thought about a flood. His heart broke for you. All the pain that your husband had put you though, he thought maybe he could be a chance at happiness for you...now, he would just be the cause of more pain. His lungs screamed for air and his final thought was at least he protected you from the tornado. He could only pray that you would find safety from this flood...he wished he could be there with you, holding you in his arms and comforting you. He wished he could still protect you...and then nothing but blackness.

“NO!!!!” you scream, feeling him go limp in your arms. You struggle to hold on to him, struggle to free him. Suddenly the tree shifted in the current and and you pulled with everything that was within. You felt him come free and you struggle to pull him out of the water and away from the ditch.

“Tyler...” you cried, feeling for a pulse and not finding none...”You can't leave me...” you yell, placing your palms over his heart and doing 30 compressions. You pinched his nose closed, tilting his head back and covered his lips with yours, blowing in two breaths before going back to compressions ....one...two..three you counted until reaching 30 again.

You check again for a pulse. There was none.

Giving him two more breaths you continue the compressions with tears streaming down your face, mixing with the pounding rain.

Suddenly Tyler gasped and started coughing. Quickly you turn him over to his side and hold him as he coughs up water.

“Tyler..” you cry, rubbing your hand along his arm...he continues coughing and gasping, spitting up more water and then lets his body collapse back against you. “Ty...” you hold him close to you, running your hand though his hair.

“You okay?” he asked, opening his green eyes to gaze up at you.

“You DIE on me, and you asking if I AM okay?” you laugh though the tears.

“Well...” Tyler was gasping for air still, pain etched into his face, “are you?”

“I'll be okay when you're okay.” you tell him, checking him over for injures. You spot the blood soaking though his jeans from a large gash in his leg. “I gotta go to the truck and get that blanket. You need something to slow the bleeding on your leg.” you tell him, but he doesn't answer.

“No...Ty.” fear grips you as you quickly check for a pulse, breathing with relief when you find one. Quickly you run to the truck and back to Tyler, wrapping the blanket around his leg as tightly as you could, keeping your hand pressed against it. “Hang in there,” you whisper, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“You all okay?” You hear someone yell. It was a police officer out checking the streets after the storm.

“NO! We need help! We need an ambulance. He has a bad cut on his leg.” you yell, not willing to leave Tyler's side.

“Ambulance is on it's way ma'am.” the officer told her.

“Sir, one more thing...could you tell the Tornado Wranglers at El Reno Inn that Tyler Owens is hurt and heading to the hospital? That's our storm chaser team. They will be looking for us. The names are Lily, Dani, Dexter, and Boone.”

The officer wrote down the names, “Will do.” he nodded.

* * * * *

Chapter 5

******

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[mischievousmoony]

hello ! i saw that you were open for requests. could you do sick reader and james being the best bestfriend ever (and oblivious as hell) takes care of them? maybe they could be childhood friends so james doesn't realize that what he's doing in inherently romantic, like kissing reader's forehead to check their temp, giving his shoulder to them to lay on, sleeping in the same bed, and such.

AND even after reader is no longer sick, james still insist on spoon feeding them and acting like a helicopter mom.

- 🌱

what a lovely idea! thank you for the request <3 i love this because earlier this summer i had a nasty sinus infection for like 3 weeks :/ i wish i had a james potter then lol also i noticed you used they/them pronouns in ur req. im not sure if you wanted gn!reader, but i think it ended up being that way anyway. i didn't need to use pronouns, or even y/n, in this fic <3

𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.4k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, no use of y/n, no magic

── ⋆⋅☆⋅��� ──

It was only an hour ago that you told James over the phone not to worry about you.

Now, he stands in your bedroom, having let himself into your flat with the spare key that you that keep at his parents' house for emergencies— which he uses very often, but hardly for emergencies.

"James," you complain in a nasally voice, "I'm going to get you sick."

He plants his hands on his hips and looks at you scrutinizingly. It reminds you of Euphemia when she would scold you and James as children, and truthfully, when she sometimes scolds you these days.

"Nonsense, my immune system is built like a tank."

"James," you whine further.

He ignores you as he approaches your bedside, frowning as he takes in your sickly appearance. He gently brushes away the sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"My poor thing," he comments before bending down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You don't feel terribly warm, but you look flushed," James' wrist swivels to press the back of his hand to your cheek, "Do you feel hot?"

"A- a little," you croak, knowing full well that a raging blush is the real culprit behind your reddening face.

James' frown deepens as he dives into his next area of concern, "Have you been eating? You hardly had anything in your fridge."

"I have enough peanut butter and jelly to get me through an apocalypse. Why were you in my fridge?"

"I had to put away the groceries."

Your eyebrows draw together, "What groceries!?"

"I bought you groceries," he says nonchalantly.

"Why would you buy me groceries!?"

James is suddenly sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, "It's not much. Mostly ingredients for the chicken soup I'm gonna make."

"Make? If you really must you could've just gotten a can of–"

"Eugh! I would never subject you to canned soup!"

You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"That processed shit is just going to make you feel worse," he adds.

"Does Effie know she's created a monster?" you mumble to the ceiling.

James' chuckles, "Look, I'm already here, I've already bought the food. Just let me make you a nice soup and then I'll get out of here." James raises his hands in the air to indicate his surrender to compromise.

Your head hurts too much to continue an argument that you know you won't win, so you relent and wave him off to the kitchen.

Before James leaves you, "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything before I go?"

"I'm fine."

"You sound stuffy. Is there a lot of pressure? Do you like a hot or a cold compress?"

You wince as you imagine a cold compress, feeling like that would make your headache somehow feel sharper against your brain.

"Hot."

James smiles, happy that you're beginning to give into his care, and disappears from your sight.

He returns with a warm, damp cloth and a paper shopping bag stuffed under his arm. He starts unloading his haul onto your night table.

"I brought you the nice tissues, the ones with the lotion so that they don't irritate your nose. And are you taking medicine? I wasn't sure what your symptoms were or what you usually take so I got stuff for everything. I've got nasal sprays, decongestants, cough syrups— which I'm pretty sure you hate so I bought lozenges too."

You watch despairingly as he sets medicine after medicine down.

"I took paracetamol an hour ago," you inform him.

"That's it? You could at least use the nasal spray then. Here, let me–"

You place a hand over his that fiddles with the cap of the spray, "I've got it. Just go make your soup."

James looks up from the little white bottle, "Oh yeah, sure." But he hesitates before he goes, "You want a lozenge though?"

You yield to James' incessant efforts, figuring he would feel better if you let him do something for you. You hold out your hand to accept the lozenge but as soon as he sees you nod, he is already set on removing its waxy wrap and popping it in your mouth himself.

At last, he presses the warm, damp cloth gently over your closed eyes and retreats to your kitchen.

He reappears every so often to rewarm the cloth that's over your eyes, bring you cups of water or herbal tea, and make sure that you're still comfortable. He's offered to fluff your pillows five times.

The next time he enters your bedroom, he's finally carrying a bowl of steaming soup, one of your dishcloths a barrier between his hands and the hot porcelain.

You sit and hold out your hands to accept the bowl.

"Oh, it's far too hot for you to hold," James says, choosing to ignore the fact that he is doing just fine holding it himself.

He plants himself on the edge of your bed and starts blowing on a spoonful of the savory soup.

"You can't be serious," you mutter, sniffling.

"Just lean back and relax," James instructs, "let me take care of you."

James looks at you with the roundest, most doe-like eyes can can muster. Oh, those stupid big brown eyes— it's impossible to resist them.

You let James feed you what just might be the best soup you've ever tasted. Rich flavors dance on your tongue and you try not to let your eyes flutter closed in bliss, but the enjoyment is written across your face anyway. He refrains from teasing you, feeling too much pity for your being unwell to make any fun.

"Is this helping any?" James checks, blowing on another spoonful of broth.

You hum affirmatively, "It's really nice," you murmur, letting the warmth of the soup spread across your chest.

A prideful smile finds its way onto James' lips.

After he he scrapes the last bit of soup onto the spoon and brings it to your mouth, he places the empty bowl onto your night table. You realize that you still need to thank him and you share words of gratitude as you wring out your neck.

"You alright?"

"A bit stiff from being cooped up in bed," you roll out your shoulders.

"Well, you needed your rest," James says, studying you. "Here, scoot up."

You look at him curiously as he helps you scoot forward. When he starts settling in behind you, your eyes round.

"James!"

You've lost count of how many times you've uttered his name in scolding today. Your face flushes crimson and you count yourself lucky that he at least can't see it this time.

James shushes you, and your protests die in your throat when his hands apply a satisfying pressure to your neck.

He can't help but chuckle, nor can he help seek your approval, "Helping?"

"Uh-huh," you sigh, your eyes fluttering closed, and you feel James' body rumble with laughter against you.

The coming days play out similarly, and you've quickly ceased protesting against him. James attends to your every need and casually showers you in affection day after day.

He even insists on staying over some nights, which you do protest against, as he means to sleep on your couch which is not even long enough for him to lay flat. But you need not worry about that, because when night falls he ends up dozing off next to you in bed, where he intended to only stay until you fell asleep.

In the mornings, neither of you seem to mind waking up in each others arms.

Within a few days, your health improves, but this doesn't stop James from continuing to tend to you.

"I haven't run a fever in days!" you protest as James' lips still against your forehead for several seconds.

"You never know," James mumbles against your forehead before pulling away.

You huff as you meet his eyes on his retreat, "I'm not sick anymore, James."

"You still sniffle sometimes," he shrugs, turning to collect the empty bowl on your night table, which he fed you fresh stew out of for lunch this afternoon.

You chuckle at his antics, "It's just a lingering sniffle, it will probably clear up by tomorrow. Besides, I hardly need someone taking care of me for that."

James pulls his lips into a timid line, feeling quite sheepish. He hides his face as he turns to leave your room with the dirty dish.

He tsks as he formulates an excuse for himself, "Or it means that your illness is coming back for a second round. What kind of friend would I be if I don't make sure it's gone before I set you loose?"

James makes his way to the kitchen to wash your dishes, seemingly unaware that he might enjoy taking care of you a bit more than a friend would. Or maybe he’s simply embraced the comfort of being exactly where he wants to be.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[midseo]

Floating Suction Assemblies Manufacturer, Supplier, India

Floating Suction Assemblies, Manufacturer, Supplier, Exporter, Pune, Maharashtra, India, Saudi Arabia.

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[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 13: Size Difference

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7129

Warnings: Afab!/reader, size difference, noncon, abduction, bathing, aphrodisiacs, drugging, bareback, stomach bulge, gendered terms 

A/N: okay, look … I’ve been deeply in love with the Daythunder Eremites since we got our first glimpse of them right before 3.0 dropped. Did I lose the plot a little bit on this one? Maybe. But I’m actually obsessed with this NPC. I even went around and marked their locations on my map with the little meat pin. ✋😭 I quite literally ran OUT of available pins because of it. Not one single person better question why I picked him for this prompt instead of Enjou (I was extremely tempted tho, trust and believe that xmdkxk)

⭐

It was quickly becoming apparent that you were in a bit over your head with this commission. Between the wailing researchers on the ground, the frightened Sumpter Beast making a lumbering escape for the near distant tree line, the attacking Eremites and the damaged cart that had inexplicably caught fire at some point, the situation was clearly spiraling far out of your control.  

Gripping your sword so hard it hurts, you try to take stock of what was happening and regroup. There wasn’t enough time to fully process it though. The small stretch of road — if you could even call it that — had devolved into complete and utter chaos in the blink of an eye, and you have to lurch to avoid the incoming swing of a huge battle ax before you can make any sense of it. But if there was one thing you knew, intrinsically, it was that there were too many of them for you to take on alone. It was too much for a single adventurer no matter how talented or skilled you may have been. 

You dance back, not even daring to breathe as you agily avoid the weapon swinging at you with so much force you not only hear the violent displacement of air but you can even feel it too. This was incredibly dangerous. One hit from that ax would shatter bones, possibly even crush organs, and you’d likely be dead before the day was through. You had to get away but — pivoting your body, you steal a split second glance at the helpless researchers. They were cowering at the feet of a girl, no older than yourself, who was holding them at blade point while the other Eremites quickly worked to unload the cargo before it all went up in smoke with the burning cart. You needed to get away but so did they. 

Clenching your teeth, you duck to avoid the next swing and dive under that huge, muscular arm to hit the dirt. You feel him shift behind you, alter the momentum and start to bring the heavy ax down right on top of you. Bracing for the destructive impact, you throw yourself forward into a stiff roll seconds before the ground erupts in a spray of dirt and grass that showers you in grime even when you skid to a halt some few feet away. Your heart feels like it’s going to slam right out of your chest as you frantically stumble to your feet on jelly filled legs, almost dropping your sword in your haste. 

You couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to avoid that hit … 

With a choked, gasping wheeze, you force yourself into a dead sprint, ignoring the thrumming terror that threatens to debilitate you as you dart across the road right towards the Eremite girl. You may not have been able to save their precious research but you could still save them! 

“Run!” You scream, making her turn. It was too late though. 

Leaning your shoulder into it, you slam into her so hard both of you go flying through the air to hit the ground in a heap. It knocks the air out of you (and her, by the sound of it) but you quickly roll away and struggle to your feet once again. There’s so much adrenaline pumping through your system you hardly even feel yourself moving, numb to everything going on around you, but you’re still distantly aware of the resulting scramble when the two researchers jump up to make a break for it. Good. At least now you could worry about yourself. 

But you don’t quite make it that far. 

The huge man with the ax is suddenly right on top of you — you hadn’t even seen him coming! Your heartbeat stutters a surprised beat and you just barely get your sword up in time to block his next swing. Unfortunately the force of it knocks your blade from your screaming hands, sending it pinwheeling up and away at such a high arc you could never hope to snag it and he doesn’t stop long enough to let you watch it fall back to the earth. 

One second you’re stumbling from the impact. The next he’s snatching a fistful of your hair to yank you towards him, and you collapse at his feet on your knees. Sharp, stabbing splinters of pain shoot through your body but it’s quickly overshadowed by the agony of him using his hold on your hair to pull you upright, damn near taking you right off the ground. Seething, you force your eyes open to glare daggers at him when he bends close and puts his face inches from yours in a clear, obvious display of intimidation. 

“That was a stupid thing to do.” 

“I’ll kill her!” The Eremite girl shrieks, scrabbling to get up. “I’ll skin her alive and put her head on a spike!” 

You go stockstill, lungs constricting painfully when you feel her reach for you. But, to your squawking surprise, the huge man physically drags you away from her and closer to himself like you were little more than a toy they were fighting over. 

“Wait, Siri. Not yet.” He warns, the low growl in his voice growing stronger, and you sway in his hold with a suffocating feeling of dread. What a terrible situation to find yourself in. “Let me have this one. You can play with her when I’m done.” 

“Do you really think I want your leftovers?” She snaps, both of them completely ignoring the way you wheeze between them. “She shoved me onto the ground, Aziz! She’ll be lucky if that’s all I do! I’m going to pluck out her eyes and - -“ 

“Enough, you two!” A third Eremite barks over. Still panting raggedly, you carefully turn your head even when it tugs at your hair to find another towering man standing some few feet away with one of the salvaged crates clutched against his chest. Idly, you realize the cart was almost completely engulfed in flames now and rapidly turning to smoldered ash. The guild was going to get such an earful from you if you made it out of this alive. 

“But - -“

“I don’t want to hear it!” The other man cuts her off again. “We need to get this stuff out of here. Now! Those two researchers escaped so we need to be long gone before they send in backup. Bring the adventurer if you want, I don’t care. Just get your asses in gear.” 

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Siri shoots you a quick look that is no less chilling behind the red cloth hiding her eyes before stiffly pushing into motion. You watch her walk away to join the others, your stomach cramping with nerves, and it only gets worse when Aziz tugs on your hair to bring your attention back up to him again. 

“Looks like you got lucky today. In more ways than one, I’d say.” Pausing, he puts his head to one side to send the braid over his temple swinging, and you can’t quite shake the impression of being a helpless rabbit caught under a tiger's paw. He was so massive, and the way he looks at you ... “I admit, your swordsmanship was pretty good. You’ve got good instincts even if you don’t have the strength to back it up. Tell me, little adventurer. Where do you hail from?” 

You draw a steadying breath and try not to regurgitate everything that was in your stomach right down to the bile. “Mondstadt. I’m originally from Mond.” 

“I see. You’re a far way from home then. I hope no one there is going to miss you too much.” 

~*~

They lead you into a camp, blindfolded and with your wrists bound behind your back, but you recognize the distinct sounds of daily life for what they are immediately. You can hear children shrieking and laughing, weaving in and out of your peripheral senses in what could only be play. There were women murmuring nearby, speaking so low you couldn’t make out what they were saying when the grizzled voices of older men seemed to drown them out. You can just make out what you think must be a dog snuffling around your ankles in a quick burst of sound before darting away when they drag you further in and, somewhere, a goat bleats. 

There’s sand under your feet now so you knew you were no longer in the lush rainforests of Sumeru but, rather, the desert. You’d never gone this far west before, precisely because of the grip the Eremites had on the area. Having heard plenty of stories about just how cutthroat they could be in the harsh environment they called home, you had wanted to avoid crossing paths with them if at all possible but a lot of good that had done you. 

The acrid, dry air seems to rob you of the ability to breathe and you stumble, gasping against the grit and oppressive heat, when Aziz shoves you through what must be a doorway. Abruptly you’re enshrouded in a blanket of cool that is so noticeably different from the temperature outside it actually makes you shiver at the sudden change. He doesn’t give you a chance to truly appreciate it or sigh out in relief though, simply pulling you by the arm even when you nearly trip over your own aching feet. 

His hand feels impossibly huge on your neck when he finally palms the back of it and shoves you down to sit on the floor, forcing your legs to splay under you at an awkward angle. Panting, you cautiously shift to settle on your butt even as he reaches up to loosen the knot he’d tied behind your head. It falls away with a quiet slither of fabric, and you blink into the gloom of what you quickly realize is a tent. His tent? You couldn’t be sure, and you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to know. 

“You don’t have to do this …” You whisper into the stillness, and he just scoffs. 

“You don’t even know what it is I’m going to do yet. Be patient, little adventurer from Mondstadt. You might like it.” 

You very much doubted that, but hold your tongue on the slim hope that compliance might see you through this in one piece. Even if your arms hadn’t been secured behind your back it was obvious you still wouldn’t have been much of a match against someone like him. He’d already thoroughly cemented that back in the forest. Because not only was Aziz incredibly tall, he was also filled out and thick with heavy muscle mass. Just one of his biceps looked like it was greater in width than your thigh and you fully believed he could crush you like a grape if he so chose. With no other option available, you grudgingly acquiesce when he turns you around to face him. 

He was still wearing his own blindfold, that rich red brocade hiding his eyes, but you recognized the way he looked at you even without being able to see them. You’re not entirely sure how he — or any of the Eremites — got around as well as they did without the use of their sight, and a tremor tears through you when he sedately reaches out to touch the side of your face. Not so much as a split second falter or other sign of hesitation. It was like he knew exactly where you were, like he could see through the material, and a fresh curling tendril of unease snakes through you at the thought of his people having some divinely appointed sixth sense. Was that why their strongest warriors covered their faces? 

“You’re filthy.” He suddenly announces, and you know it’s not just the grit of dirt and sand he’s talking about. You were thoroughly drenched in sweat from the trek out here as much as your earlier standoff with him, and it was now quickly cooling to settle a chill over your sore body. 

Jaw clenching, you turn your face from him. “Is it really any wonder? You almost took my head off back there.” 

Chuckling softly, Aziz drops his hand to rest on his bent knee where he’s knelt in front of you. “Sorry about that. If it counts for anything, Siri almost took it too.” 

You send him a slow, wary look. Was that really supposed to make you feel any better? 

He just offers up an indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders though, and then moves to straighten up. Watching him walk over to a big clay pot standing sentry a few paces away, you momentarily toy with the notion of running while his back was turned but immediately quash the thought. The grim reality of the situation was not lost on you. Not only did you have no idea where you were and even less of an idea how to get back, you also had no working knowledge of how to survive in the desert. Even if you could get past him and then all the other Eremites outside, escape the camp, what would you do then? No food, no water, not even any supplies or extra clothes to keep you warm when night inevitably fell. You’d be a sitting duck for any hungry predators out on the prowl if hypothermia didn’t catch up to you first. You’d heard how cold it gets after the sun sets out here, and you weren’t sure if you were brave enough to take the chance …

It doesn’t matter either way. Before you can even consider changing your mind Aziz returns with a shallow bowl and a rag which you regard suspiciously when he sets it aside. You could guess where this was going, but it still shocks you a great deal that he then reaches for the front of your clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing, and without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it either.  

“Wait - -“

“Hush, adventurer. I won’t hurt you so long as you play nice and remember not to bite the hand keeping you alive.” 

Swallowing hard, you numbly watch him take the front of your guild uniform in hand and casually pop it open with a sedate tug that sends buttons flying in either direction. They fall near silent across the worn tarp that serves as the floor of the tent, and you draw a slow, shuddering breath. Try not to linger on the way his heavy knuckles brush against your chest while he pulls the shirt open to expose the silk chemise underneath. Distantly, you start to wonder if he’ll untie your hands just to get you undressed, thinking you might have a chance to flee after all — but then he rips at the fabric, giving you a sudden jerk at the force, and your mouth drops open in shock when it simply tears from you in a ragged panel. 

Realizing he’s just going to peel it off you in pieces, you purse your lips into a tight line to stop yourself from crying out as he shreds your blouse to tatters and ribbons that fall to the floor around you in a pathetic heap. He does the same with the chemise and then your long skirt, pausing only long enough to yank away your boots, hose and, finally, your bloomers. You don’t give up the last without a fight but he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge all your squirming and twisting while he easily manhandles you to relieve you of your final dignity some moments later. 

Seething, you primly squeeze your legs together to hide your most intimate spot from him but it barely gives Aziz pause. One of those massive hands reaches out to clamp around your ankle and he none too gently drags you across the floor to leave you laid out on your back. Ignoring your incensed hissing, he shifts and settles into a cross legged position in front of you before reaching calmly for the bowl. 

“You remind me of a cat, you know that?” He murmurs, dipping the rag into the water to soak it through as you struggle back up into a sitting position.

“One of the Rishboland Tigers, I hope.” 

He outright laughs. “No. You are like a very small, very feisty kitten that hasn’t yet learned her place in this world.” 

You stiffen at that, narrowing your eyes at him, but he pays it little mind. Squeezing out the rag of excess water, he stretches his hand out towards your face again and you stubbornly try to crane your neck to escape it. Aziz just follows you though, and you give a startled little squawk when he finally presses the cool cloth into your cheek. 

“That’s cold!” 

Softly shushing you, he drags the rag over your skin to wipe away all the sweat, dirt and grime coating your face. Much to your grudging dismay you quickly find that it actually felt rather nice and he was not near as violent or brutish about it as his appearance would have suggested he’d be. It’s almost gentle, in fact, and you slowly find yourself relaxing into it with a stilted sigh. You would be glad to be clean again, even if you had to endure the humiliation of being washed like a child to achieve it. 

Cautiously roving your eyes up when he starts to work his way down your neck, you take a moment to really study him. You couldn’t say for sure if he was looking back at you or if the brunt of his attention was focused on the task at hand, but you try not to let that uncertainty dissuade you. After all, if he was bold enough to undress you like this then surely he could handle a bit of staring. And you think, with no shortage of surprise, that he was probably handsome under that mask. His jaw was smooth and well defined, housing a pair of full, kissable lips that purse slightly when he scrubs at a splotch of dirt on your throat. You still didn’t like him very much after he’d almost smashed you to bits with his giant ax and then kidnapped you, spirited away into the inhospitable desert, but you couldn’t exactly deny what was in front of you. 

Maybe if you’d met under (vastly) different circumstances … 

“Do you like what you see?” 

You sniff and look away to take in the rest of the tent. “Hardly.” 

Aziz chuckles again while he rinses out the rag in the dish before bringing it back to your skin once again. “Such a grumpy little adventurer … what are you doing so far away from home? I’ve heard Mondstadt is very different from Sumeru.” 

“It is,” You relent, hating yourself for leaning into his touch when he caresses over a throbbing spot on your shoulder. You must have banged it on the ground rolling around earlier, or maybe it was from plowing into Siri. “We don’t have any deserts or great big forests. Well … none like what Sumeru has, anyway. No tigers to worry about, either. All we’ve got are wolves, but they don’t usually attack humans.” 

He hums a quiet sound of acknowledgement, taking a moment to massage into the aching muscle under his heavy fingers when he sees the pinch in your expression. “You miss it.” 

It’s a statement, not a question, and you sigh. “Considering where I’m at right now, yeah. It’s kind of hard not to.” 

“Grumpy.” 

You try not to scowl at that, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere even if you kicked up a fit and fought him tooth and nail. At least he was being nice about it. That was one good thing in all this, you think — only to suck in a quick breath as he drags his hand lower to wipe your chest clean. You know it’s coming but it still pulls a quiet whimper out of you when the rag passes over your breast, catching at the nipple to send a static jolt through your body. Shirking, you try to twist away from him but it’s useless with your hands tied behind your back and he just follows you. The way he kneads and squeezes at the swell of flesh under the guise of cleaning you up doesn’t escape your notice, and neither does your reaction to it. But it horrifies you more than anything else and, steadying yourself, you try to rein it in. If ever there was a worse time for your baser urges to start taking over, this would have been it. 

But rather than lingering, Aziz soon switches to the other side which he gives the same level of patient attention to. A handful of groping squeezes, a brief pinch to the nipple and then he’s moving on again. Your breathing starts to pick up as he works his way lower, swiping the rag under your breasts to lift and nudge them against his thick knuckles. His skin is rough and calloused on yours wherever it touches, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Hot and flushed, and just ever so slightly sensitized in his wake. A shudder tears down your spine when he starts running the wet cloth over your stomach. 

“W - wait —“ 

He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t even so much as pause, and you try very hard not to yelp when he rather boldly swipes his hand from your bellybutton straight into the soft cradle of your thighs. Eyes widening in mute horror, you rock back and try to squeeze your legs shut to no avail. He just leans forward, invading your space again as his unoccupied hand comes up to wrap around the nape of your neck. You can’t quite believe it when he yanks you backwards and eases you onto the floor with perfect control that stops you from slamming your head back. It would have been quite impressive if only your heart didn’t feel like it was going to slam right through your ribcage and, mewling a desperate, frazzled noise, you make a last ditch effort to twist away. But he just holds you in place, keeping you pinned by the neck, while he bullies your thighs apart with the other hand. 

A faltering, highly embarrassing sound bursts out of you when the damp rag presses firm against your cunt at last. He pauses there a moment to squeeze at you through the cloth, almost idly grinding his palm down and making you twitch, before finally dragging it further down to run along the slit in your body. Left wheezing in the aftermath, you just lay there and try to wrap your head around this confusing turn of events. You couldn’t make sense of it. Although you’d expected it on some level, wasn’t this still a little … strange? 

The way he cleans you is almost so formal it seems to border on ritualistic. Like he was performing some kind of ceremony or rite. The horrifying thought that perhaps he was preparing you for sacrifice crosses your mind and you can’t quite stop from cowering when he pushes up to kneel on his knees beside you. But, to your squawking surprise, all he does is grab hold of your ankle again and uses it to pull you over onto your stomach like you were little more than an uncooperative toddler. 

“H - hey! I’m not a child you know!” 

“A great relief, I assure you.” 

Flushing red hot, you force yourself to grow still and just lay there while he wipes across your back and arms, your sides, running down to your ass and then lower still to get the backs of your legs. It was an altogether humiliating experience and not one you’d like to repeat any time soon, but you couldn’t deny you felt nice and fresh by the time he finally finishes up a small eternity later. Squeaky clean, even. It’s a great improvement from your earlier state, at least, and you don’t protest when he hooks a hand under your arm to help you sit back up. 

Deeply ruffled, you try to reorient yourself while he moves to dispose of the used water somewhere at the back of the tent. You once again consider making a run for it but … oh, it would be another matter entirely if they hadn’t blindfolded you! That was the only thing stopping you from trying. The very real possibility you’d pick the wrong direction and just end up wandering deeper into the desert without even realizing your mistake until it was much too late keeps you firmly rooted to the spot and certainly not because of the dull thrum in your cunt. Nope. Definitely not. 

Aziz comes close again, snapping you out of your stunned trance, and you glance up as he kneels in front of you to warily eye the petite bone carved container in his hand. It was shaped like a flower, and something about it makes every hair on your body slowly stand on end. 

“What is that?” 

“A gift, for the little adventurer from Mondstadt.” He says, giving you (what you think has to be) a sly smile. “Are you afraid of oils and creams as much as you are of me?” 

Your brow draws in uncertainty but you don’t get a chance to pick apart what he’s saying to find the meaning in it. Taking up the wiry bristled brush in his other hand, he unscrews the lid from the trinket and dabs the tip into whatever was inside. For a split second you think he’s going to put makeup on you for some inexplicable reason but then — the now smoothed brush looks wet when he reaches it out towards you, and you reel back with a gasp. He remains undaunted though, and you screw your eyes shut with a soft whimper. 

Startled confusion marches through your mind when he just presses the brush into the side of your neck though, and your mouth immediately pops open at how sticky and cool it is. Before you can yelp about the sensation, he drags a harsh line down across the column of your throat, making you shudder so hard you think you’re going to collapse. But then the sweet, cloying scent of myrrh and lavender mixed together floods your nostrils and you snap your head back up in disbelief. Perfume? 

“You look surprised,” He murmurs, reaching for the other side of your neck to draw another stilted line over your pulse. “Do you know what this is?” 

You shift, more than just a little uncertain and ill at ease now. “I … I don’t think I understand.” 

With a quiet hum, he dips the brush into the mysterious substance again. “You will. Give it time, and you’ll soon come to understand everything.” 

You haven’t the slightest idea what to make of that ambiguous statement. 

Struggling to maintain your calm, you watch his hand stretch out for you again but this time it arims towards your chest. You think he’s going to swipe that goopy liquid over the swell of your breasts but, much to your jolting surprise, he drags it straight down over your pert nipple instead. Stomach roiling at the sensation, you make another blithe attempt to lean away from it but just like every other time he follows you easily enough and flicks that bristled tip over the stiffened bud again. Your breath hitches when it almost immediately starts to grow warm and tingly, shooting a disbelieving look down at yourself even as he reaches to do the same to the other. 

“W - what is that — ahhn!” 

“Relax. You’ll feel good in a moment.” 

Somehow you didn’t believe that at all, and you start to tremble uncontrollably there on the floor. But it soon occurs to you that it’s not just nerves making you shake like a leaf. Your tits grow sensitive and flushed against the wafting air, curling to fine, tight points on your chest as the liquid quickly cools. It makes your blood pound harder, your breath come faster, and you can’t help but squirm at the almost painful knot that curls low in your gut. 

Dizzy now, you issue a quiet whimper into the still tent when you sway in a deeply intoxicated manner. “Dear, Archons - -“ 

You cut off with a startled yelp when he pushes you down again but you no longer have the presence of mind to fight it. Laying there twitching, you tip your chin to dazedly watch that massive hand curl around the meat of your inner thigh and pull your legs apart. Suddenly your nudity seems so stark and arousing it makes you gasp, eyes widening when you realize you’re getting wet. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. Your cunt was flooding and you wail an incomprehensible protest when he leans over you to bring the brush towards your defenseless slit. 

“Little adventurer,” Aziz croons, keeping your legs spread under his palm as he teases the tip of the brush over your lips. “You should have stayed in Mondstadt where they don’t have such big men and potent aphrodisiacs to turn your body against you.” 

Sucking in a harsh, rasping breath, you weakly fling your opposite leg up as if to shove at him but you miss by a wide mile and it just smacks back down to the floor, completely useless. It was like you’d been robbed of your motor skills and mental faculties in equal measure. It was hard just to think straight. 

“W — why?” 

Chuckling, he drags his hand down off your thigh to press into the meat of your labia and spread them, fully exposing your clit to the air. “I had fun playing with you earlier even if your little sword was no match for my ax. You still put up a good fight so of course I’d want to keep playing.” The soft haired brush slowly presses into the pulsing cluster of nerves and you go ramrod stiff, mouth falling open as if to scream but nothing comes out. All you can do is lay there, violently twitching, while he sedately drags it up and down, and side to side to draw even more sticky slick out of your body. “Unfortunately you are a very small adventurer and I am much too big for you to take easily. This will help you adjust to my size and even make it less painful too. You should be happy I’m showing you such kindness.” 

Your head positively swims at the explanation, neck lolling bonelessly on the floor of the tent while you desperately try to sort through it all and cling to your cognizance at the same time. It’s no use though. The effects of the drug sweep you up much too quickly and pull you under. You feel like you're drowning in it, your pussy thrumming and squeezing around nothing even when he finally pulls away from your throbbing clit some time later. 

There’s nothing at all you can do, not even protest, when he finds his feet and then leans down to haul you up against him. Clutched to his chest, you hang there in a lifeless, moaning heap while he walks to the opposite side of the tent where he deposits you onto a waiting bed of pillows that gently cradle your body when he sets you down. Paying no mind to your needy, gasping moans, Aziz leaves you there and retreats back to the clay pot you’d seen him fetch water from earlier to clean you with. On a distant, hazy level, you realize he’s going to wash himself next and you know you should probably be thankful for that. Know you should try to take this moment to escape even if it meant running buck naked out into the desert beyond his tent. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to do anything except writhe and twist on top of the mountain of pillows, blithely trying to squeeze your thighs together and rub out the ache between them without the use of your hands. It’s no good at all. Just utterly hopeless when your body was pulsing so hot and so fiercely your limbs didn’t want to cooperate. 

Idly, you think to try straddling one of the pillows so you can grind your cunt against it. 

Weakly, you roll over and attempt to wriggle yourself on top of one — any of them, it didn’t matter, any would do when your need was so great — but you can’t quite seem to manage. All it does is drag your stiff nipples over the fabric and the stitching, and you issue a low, faltering groan when you realize it’s just making it worse. It was hard to breathe. You felt like you were going insane with the need to be stuffed and filled, and stretched and pounded into unconsciousness. 

You’re so caught up in your suffering you almost don’t notice when Aziz finally returns to your side. You feel the pillows shift under you with the addition of his weight and you try to blink away the stupor at the same time that you abruptly realize you’re drooling. Grunting in surprise at suddenly finding that you were in such a state, you lift your head with an owlish blink. 

The effects of the aphrodisiac were starting to lessen, receding at least enough to clear your head by a small margin … 

Before you can celebrate, you feel his hands descend upon your bound wrists and the sensation of those calloused fingers on your skin punches an abrupt groan out of you. Okay, maybe the effects weren’t fading so much as your body was simply adjusting to the sudden, potent influx of endorphins but at least you could formulate a semi coherent thought now. 

You cling to that small silver lining with every fiber of your shuddering being as he gets the rope untied, freeing your arms at long last, and then rolls you over. The room spins for a brief moment but when your eyes focus and you manage to look down they nearly pop right out of your skull. Not only was he completely nude, so massive and thick with muscle it startles a tiny squeak out of you, but he was also rock hard. And much, much bigger than you could have even imagined. 

Somehow the fear of having that huge cock forced into your body seems to chase away a bit more of the muddled daze hanging over your head, and you bring your hands up in an awkward, uncoordinated rush to push at him. But when you jerk your attention up at his face, you stop dead in your tracks. 

His mask was gone. 

Aziz’s eyes were sharp and narrowly shaped to compliment the lean structure of his face, and his eyes … you suddenly forget how to breathe. You’d never seen irises so startlingly amethyst they looked like sparkling jewels. 

He watches your reaction carefully, the intensity of that bejeweled gaze boring into you even as he crawls over top of you to settle between your legs. The demanding nudge of his rigid cock startles you back to reality, and you suck in such a frantic gasp of air it claws on the way down. 

“No, wait - -“

His hand grabs under your chin and forces your head back so he can seal his mouth over yours and cut you off. You go ramrod stiff underneath him, eyes wide and wild even as you lift shuddering hands to weakly press into his chest. Archons, he was huge. The muscle bulges under your palms and tenses, flexing when he shifts against you to line himself up, and the full weight of what’s happening slams into you all at once. 

Visciously, you tear your mouth from his with a warbling, intoxicated shriek. “Please, I can’t take it! It won’t fit!” 

He issues a deep, rumbling chuckle and runs those thick, rough worn fingers across your flushed cheek to make you tremble anew. “You can. Do not fear it, little adventurer. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” Pausing, he teases your entrance with the blunt head, making you wheeze at the feel of him so heavy and thick against delicate lips. You reel underneath him and try not to hyperventilate, but he just keeps you pinned and mostly immobile under his sturdy frame. Finally, at length, he says, “Shall I show you how far into you I’m going to reach and give you something to truly be afraid of?” 

“Wha - -“ 

Jostling you when he pulls back, Aziz pushes up to put some space between your pelvis and his, and you almost sigh in relief when his cock retreats from your entrance. But then something fleshy and thick slaps down on your lower belly, effectively robbing you of the ability to breathe, and you slowly glance down at yourself in fast mounting horror. His cock stretches across your stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum in its wake when he nudges his hips closer to line the base up with your cunt and settle into place. 

It feels like the earth itself is opening up under you to swallow you whole. He’s almost long enough to touch your bellybutton, and that was to say absolutely nothing of his girth. His size makes you look small and incredibly petite in comparison, so much slighter than him in every way that you feel more certain than ever that it’s not going to fit. There was no way it would. 

“Right here,” He intones, squeezing at the soft pouch around your middle and digging his thumb in for emphasis. “This is how much of you I am going to take for myself. Are you ready for me?” 

A half strangled sob bursts out of your mouth. “No, no, no, no —“ 

Ignoring your mouse squeak protests, Aziz repositions himself at your entrance and slowly leans into you, sinking into the tight heat of your body one staggered inch of him at a time. You go still as a statue at the oppressive, suffocating sensation, your hands blindly flying up to brace against his broad barrel chest, but you can’t even find the wherewithal to cry out. All you can focus on is the gradual stretch of your body, the way he forces your cunt to spread and make room for him under that stilted pressure and … much to your gaping shock it doesn’t hurt half as bad as you’d expected it to. There was still a pinch of discomfort, your body unaccustomed to taking something so large, but the aphrodisiac seems to have served its purpose. 

Not only were you soaked and pliant with arousal, but your guts were so soft now that he only needed to exert a small amount of pressure to ease further into you. There is no straining resistance, no tearing, no painful  force necessary to claim your much smaller body for his own. It was staggering to realize how little struggle your cunt actually offers up and you stare at the spot between you two with nothing short of dumbfounded fascination. 

Bit by bit, his length disappears inside you — a quarter, a half, two thirds and then … he’s seated in you straight down to the hilt, Aziz loosing a deep, hissing groan when his pelvis finally presses flush to yours. Whimpering, you spasm on his cock, disoriented and a little too shell shocked to do much of anything else. You’d never felt so full before. So stretched right to the limit and the total lack of pain sends your reeling mind spinning in an endless loop, just trying to grasp what was even happening. You never would have thought it was possible if you hadn’t seen it with your own two eyes. 

“Watch, little adventurer,” He murmurs, drawing a piece of you out of your stupor when he bends close to put his forehead against yours, that loose braid swaying forward to tickle your temple. “Watch how I take you and how your body welcomes me in. You are mine now, and this is the proof.” 

Meaningfully, he drags his amethyst gaze lower and, quaking wildly underneath him, you do the same, following his line of sight to look at where you’re connected. The muscles in his stomach flex, abdominals visibly tensing as he ever so slowly draws his hips back to drag against your inner sleeve. You very nearly go cross eyed at the sensation, so deep and unexpectedly pleasurable it almost sends you shuddering right over the edge, but you force yourself to keep watching. To watch how he pauses at the halfway point, his muscular waist swiveling forward to push back in, in, in, further and further until — the spot just below your bellybutton bulges up at the same time his pelvis meets yours again, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 

He really was reaching that far into you. 

And you really had taken all of him. 

Wildly clawing at him for something to cling to, you let out a series of frantic, bleating sounds when he slowly starts to angle back again, watching that bulge in your tummy recede and disappear with the retreat of his cock only to come pushing right back in a moment later. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the spot on your lower belly where he keeps pushing up under the skin at an increasingly quicker pace, repeatedly punching the same spot into a soft, rounded bulge. A low ache starts to build deep in your body and somewhere in the back of your cotton stuffed mind you find the wherewithal to realize how sore you were going to be after this. The aphrodisiac would wear off eventually and you would be left in the aftermath to deal with the aching stretch, the throbbing reminder of how he’d felt moving inside of you and the lingering effects of getting pounded by something so big it felt like it was actively rearranging your guts. 

This was in no way what you’d signed up for when you took on this commission, nor is it why you left Mondstadt. 

It’s at that moment, when he’s working his hips hard and fast enough that a steady plap, plap, plap seems to dominate the space inside the tent that you realize you really did miss it. You missed Mondstadt and you wanted to go home. Soon. Immediately after he let you go. 

He would let you go … wouldn’t he?

⭐

Crossposted: here

[xmads-omensx]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

CW: established relationship, mentions of stress, mentions / talks of therapy

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @bloody-spades @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @dsireland86 @missduffsblog @overmydeadbodysblog @dominuslunae @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm @death-ofpeace-ofmind  @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @kissestomyomens @flowery-mess @athenexe

Life had been overwhelming recently.

Work, friendships, family, all of it. You were rapidly reaching your limit.

Your mind was all over the place all of the time, with no time for any sort of break.

You had even begun neglecting your boyfriend, Noah, who had been nothing short of perfect since you started dating.

It all came to a head one evening when you returned home to see Noah sitting at one of the barstools on our kitchen island, probably having used his spare key to get in.

You were startled, obviously, by your boyfriend’s surprise appearance in your home.

“Hey.” He greeted in a quiet tone.

“Hi.” You replied, barely above a whisper.

“Come here.” He whispered, spreading his arms out to his sides as if he was beckoning you into a hug.

You walked into his arms and let him envelope you in a hug.

Then it all came crashing down on you.

Sobs wracked your body as he held you, letting all of the past few weeks and Noah just stood there, letting you.

When he noticed your sobs weren’t letting up, he placed his large hands on your shoulders and manoeuvred you over to the sofa to sit down.

You curled into him as he allowed you to unload your stress.

As your sobs lessened, he began to speak to you.

"I know you've had a lot on your plate recently, but I'm here for you, even if you don't want me and start to neglect me, I'm here." He began in a firm tone.

"I'm here because I love you and I want to keep you safe." He what?

Shock coursed through your body as you registered the words that Noah had just uttered.

"You love me?" You whispered.

"Of course I do." He whispered, meeting your tone.

"Why?" You responded, in pure disbelief that he could possibly love you.

"Because you're you." Noah replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I love everything about you."

"Really?" You asked, still in shock.

"Why wouldn't I?" Noah responded with a confused look on his face.

"Because you're you... and I'm me..." You replied quietly, fiddling with the ends of his long hair.

"Oh baby." He begins, before gushing about how he loves every single detail about you. Right down to the colour that you paint your toenails.

The rest of the night was filled with you venting and Noah reassuring you that everything was okay and that you would work together to fix it.

He even helped you set up a therapy appointment for the next week and helped you overcome your apprehension about it.

"Some therapists just don't work for you, and that's okay, we just need to help you find the right one." He smiled.

It was reassuring to know that you had such a great support system in Noah, despite having been neglecting him in the recent days.

You were just two fools in love at the ned of the day.

[belit0]

Indra family

But make it modern au

Any ideas? Will Indra be a ceo of a company? Or straight up mafia boss lol

Is Ivy a nurse? Doctor? Or she owns a bakery? Kwkdkskdk I'm curious

In fact: yes, and it's something I worked on a long time ago.

And right now I'm going to remove from my masterlist to rebuild it completely ajhdkajshdas

This is not only Indra, this is the whole Uchiha clan, Mafia AU

The Inner Circle (leader, right hand, left hand).

The air inside Indra’s office is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and the faint trace of cigars, though only his is lit. A single dim lamp casts elongated shadows against the mahogany walls, making the room feel even heavier. Stacks of documents and ledgers lay open on the table, pages marked with numbers, names.

Silent warnings.

Indra leans back in his chair, playing with a lighter as he exhales the smoke from his cigar, his eyes scaning over the latest financial report.

Across from him, Madara sits with his usual composure, one arm resting lazily over the back of the leather couch, gaze sharp and unreadable.

Izuna, leaning against the window, flips a knife between his fingers, bored but listening.

-Money’s moving fine,- Madara states. -We’ve got a clean system. No interruptions from the cops, no sniffing around. The politicians we’ve bought are keeping their mouths shut.-

-The Nara clan is a different problem,- Izuna mutters, eyes flicking up. -They’re getting a little too comfortable negotiating with our rivals. Might be time to remind them who they answer to.-

Indra hums, considering.

His empire runs on precision, on control.

Everything must remain predictable, or it all crumbles.

-Handle it,- he says simply, and Izuna grins.

-With pleasure.

The Night Dealers (one for the pills, one for the smokables)

The bass thrums through the floor, vibrating up Obito’s spine as he weaves through the pulsing neon haze of the club.

Bodies press together in the dark, hands grasping, drinks spilling, the air laced with sweat and something more illicit.

Shisui moves beside him, grinning, a dancer’s ease in his steps.

A brush of fingers, a whispered exchange—small, clear packets disappear into eager hands, money sliding back in return.

They never linger too long in one place.

A nod here, a smirk there; it’s all part of the game.

-Eyes on us,- Shisui murmurs under his breath.

Obito doesn’t turn immediately, just laughs and leans against the bar as if ordering another drink.

His gaze flicks to the reflection in the mirror behind the counter—some undercover cop, probably new, trying too hard not to look interested.

-Rookie,- Obito mutters. -Give him something easy to follow. We’ll keep the real transactions quiet.-

Shisui tilts his head, considering, then nods.

Within moments, they’re ghosts again, slipping through the crowd, leaving nothing but shadows in their wake.

The Overseer (cargo)

Itachi watches as the cargo is unloaded, his sharp gaze taking in every movement, every exchange.

It’s late—moonlight spills over the docks, casting long silhouettes as crates are carried from ship to van.

A silent rhythm of efficiency.

-Make sure it’s counted twice,- he instructs one of the men. -I don’t want surprises later.-

The man nods hurriedly, disappearing into the maze of shipments.

Itachi exhales, adjusting the cuffs of his suit.

-We clear?- he asks the enforcer at his side.

The response is immediate. -No signs of interference. Everything’s smooth.-

Good.

Itachi prefers things this way—no disturbances, no loose ends.

The weight of his responsibility is a quiet one, but he bears it without hesitation.

The family’s success depends on it.

The Bakery (Indra's safe heaven)

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon fills the small, sunlit bakery, a stark contrast to the cold steel and shadows Indra is used to.

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside, and immediately, three small figures come rushing forward.

-Dada!- Ame’s tiny hands latch onto his pant leg, her face beaming up at him.

Indra lets out a rare chuckle, kneeling down to her eye level before the twins swarm him next, each trying to claim his attention.

Ivy stands behind the counter, watching the scene unfold with an exasperated smile. -You know, you always come in right when they’re supposed to be helping.-

Indra merely smirks, lifting Ame effortlessly into his arms. -I prefer to supervise.-

Raizen, ever the responsible one, leans against the counter, unimpressed. -We were actually working, Dad.-

The twins squabble beside him, commenting on the tasks they completed as good employees.

Indra raises an eyebrow. -And yet, here you are, standing around, talking.-

Before Raizen can reply, Ivy slides a plate of fresh cookies across the counter. -Bribe?- she suggests lightly.

Indra takes one, biting into it as he meets her gaze. -Your mother always knows how to make me stay.-

She laughs, shaking her head, and for a moment, just a moment, he allows himself to exist in this quiet part of his world—away from blood, away from business.

Here, in the scent of sugar and laughter, where his children do not yet know the weight of his empire.

For now, at least, they are safe.

[anon-e-miss]

Storm's End - 4

“Seems like everyone on Damaxus comes here to fuel,” Jazz told Prowl.

They had split up, each taxed with scouting a different corner of the island for a spot that might serve as a base of operations. Jazz had looked around the coastline near the inn. He had found the smuggler’s cave Lockdown had once sailed his ship, the Death’s Head into, destroyed. No one had mentioned an earthquake or maybe Lockdown had done it himself. It would have been poetic to take over one of his roosts but that was fine. Ori and Rico were not back yet and so when Jazz had spotted the innkeepers’ pretty creation carrying a crate, he could not resisting walking over. Prowl was just as pretty in his neat and conservative armour as he had been nude. The Praxian was perfectly elegant, walking with a delicious swap of his ample hips.

“Did ya need any help?” He offered. The crate was full of empty bottles. The Damaxians were a hard drinking crowd when they wanted to be.

“If you wanted to grab one of the crates over there,” Prowl replied. “We sterilize the bottles and then reuse them. It saves on needless waste.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Jazz replied.

Prowl let him through a storage room and down a flight of stairs into the cellar. Swerve had been spot on, this would have once been part of Lockdown’s lair. Where weapons and trophies would once have been held were barrels of engex and the tools of the distiller’s trade. The beauty unloaded the bottles into a sterilization system and then turned to face Jazz. There was an audible ping, at least to Jazz’s own audial horns when Prowl dimmed his optics. Jazz leaned back against the counter at his back as the Praxian leaned in. He smelled like salt air and flowers. His plating tingled as Prowl tinkled his digits down his arm.

“Perhaps I can thank you for your assistance?” The beauty asked. Jazz swallowed.

“Don’t know that I did anything that big,” he replied. “But if ya wanted to...”

“Oh I do,” Prowl assured him as he traced Jazz’s codpiece with a long, clawtipped digit.

“Oh frag,” Jazz cursed as his spike pressurized the nanoklik he authorized his panel to retract. Prowl was a soft sound, maybe a giggle as he took Jazz’s spike in his servo and stroked it twice before leaning in and wrapping his mouth around it. “Oh frag!”

Jazz did not dare risk harming Prowl in anyway.... what if his progenitor walked in? That very thought should have nullified the saboteur’s charge but he had always enjoyed a risk a little bit too much. He leaned back against the counter and watched the beautiful Praxian swallow his spike as he unclasped his armour. Prowl’s heavy wells bounced when they were freed from his armour. It took everything in Jazz’s power not to overload right then and there. No one had ever looked so perfect sucking his spike. Prowl hummed as he sucked and Jazz clenched his denta to keep from overloading too soon. The way the beauty rippled his throat around his spike, there was no way Jazz was going to last that long. He saw Prowl reach between his own legs and touch himself and he knew he was about to lose it.

“‘M gonna cum!” He warned Prowl who just leaned in and sucked a little harder. There was no helping himself, Jazz overloaded with a quiet groan, rolling his helm back as Prowl audible slurped and swallowed every last drop. “Damn, y’re somethin’ else.”

“Mmm,” Prowl hummed, licking his lipplates. “I will take that as a compliment.”

“Let me return the favour,” Jazz offered.

“Oh please do.”

They switched places. Prowl covered his mouth as Jazz knelt between his thighs and leaned. He stroked the Praxian’s node as he spread his wet folds and flicked his glossa between them. It was not long before Jazz felt his spike returning to pressure. He held Prowl’s thick thighs open as he pleasured the beauty with his mouth and digits. Though Prowl muffled his cries of pleasure, Jazz knew when he overloaded from the torrent that covered his face. Jazz rose to his peds, stroking his spike as he looked at the flushed mech below him. Prowl reached between his own thighs and held his wet, swollen folds open, inviting Jazz in. It was an invitation Jazz felt no call to ignore. He stared between the Praxian’s legs and watched himself insert his spike into the beauty’s molten centre.

“Oh frag, ya feel good,” Jazz groaned as he leaned over Prowl. He held the supine mech’s legs behind he knees as he rolled his hips, spiking the mech slowly, giving him the whole length of his thick spike before he pulled out and sank home again.

“Uhn,” Prowl moaned, tossing his helm. “That’s good. Oh... oh... You are so big.”

“Am I hurtin’ ya?” Jazz asked.

“No,” Prowl moaned. “No... harder... frag me harder.”

The gel plug of the Praxian’s gestational duct had started to reform since their last encounter but it was hardly a barrier. Jazz buried his spike in the beauty’s gestational tank and basked a moment in the tight grip of the Praxian’s rippling tunnel. Prowl squealed with delight, calling out praise for Jazz’s spike as he fragged him. Wet squelches and clangs echoed off the cellar’s stone walls. If the innkeepers found him like this... Jazz leaned his helm down and nipped the tip of the Praxian’s chevron as he spiked him with quick thrusts of his hips. Prowl crossed his legs around Jazz’s hips calling out with a throaty cry as he overloaded around Jazz’s turgid spike. His tunnel rippled around Jazz’s spike. There was no escape, not that he wanted to escape.

“Frag, y’re so fraggin’ tight,” Jazz groaned. “Gonna cum...”

“Do it,” Prowl moaned. “Oh frag, cum in me!”

“Oh frag!” Jazz obeyed, flooding the Praxian’s tank with litres of transluids before he collapsed against him. He had a bit more clarity this round than the last. “I think ya might be trouble.”

“Not to worry,” Prowl assured him. “I have an implant.”

“I shoulda asked,” Jazz apologized.

“Neither of us were quite in our right processors,” Prowl replied. They climbed up the stairs after the made themselves presentable. Cleansing wipes removed the telltale signs. It did not bother Jazz knowing that Prowl had them. He was not exactly in a position to question the other mech’s promiscuty when he was no different. In any case, Jazz saw no shame in it. As the stepped from the storage room, Prowl gasped with surprise as he looked out the window. “The sky is red!”

Jazz followed as Prowl ran from the in. He was not the only islander that ran for the docks. A crowd was gathering with those who had been waiting out the storm on their boats had climbed the masts and were pointing to the horizon. It took a few kliks before the battered ship appeared. As it limped into dock, Ori and Rico jogged up and joined Jazz in watching the spectacle. Downshift threw a roped to the beleaguered vessel so they could secure themselves to the dock. It was listing, Jazz realized. The masts were gone, blown away not by rogue waves but canon balls. The signs of a violent battle covered the sloop. Its hull must have been built from ununtrium to have survived such an attack. Prowl joined his progenitor in helping the crew off the vessel.

“We can’t have fuel leak into the bay,” Downshift said. “Might you give permission for one of our shipwrights to make emergency repairs.”

“By all means,” the mech was a curious frametype. He had features of a Urayan but not the stature. There was kibble on his back but it was no door wing. “Whatever the bill is, I can pay it.”

“No charge,” Downshift replied. “Damaxus aids any who sail into her harbour.”

“Damaxus?” The mech looked around, He held a audio player tightly in his arms. “All the stories do you a grave disservice.”

“We don’t complain,” Downshift replied. “Our inn is full but we’ll find berths for your crew.”

“Thank you. I’m Tracks, and this is Blaster,” the Urayan halfbreed replied. As he did, he threw the audio player up and it transformed into a tall mech. “We’ll only need one room. We are the crew... more or less.”

“Downshift. My creation Prowl.”

“I can bunk wit my creations,” Punch offered. “That’d leave a room free.”

“Thank you, Mech!” Blaster replied, shaking Punch’s servo. “And you, Sir. Though I was hallucinating your island.”

“Come to Storm’s End and we’ll get some fuel into you,” Downshift declared.

“What happened?” One of the fishermecha asked.

“Pirates,” Blaster said. “We sailed in the fog ‘n storm. Thought we were clear from those slagtard but then we heard the canons. Next thing, we see them firing at the waves ‘n some beast pulled ‘em down.”

“A beast?” Punch asked.

“Kraken,” Blaster replied. “Saw its shadow, a giant beast.”

“Kraken?” Someone asked. “But those are just stories.”

“Warwhale aren’t that big,” Blaster said. “‘N they don’t got that many arms.”

The pub was full of mechanisms wanting to hear their miraculous story over and over. The crew was more than just the two mech. Blaster was a cassette-carrier and his Casseticons serves as the rest of the crew. They were out of their docks, enjoying a meal as Blaster regaled the crowd again. Tracks nodded along. It seemed like Blaster did most of the talking in their relationship. Even after the beast had ripped the pirate vessel in two and dragged it into the deep, they had realized they were doom. They had already been taking on water and without sails and their engine hardly doing more than sputtering. Blaster said he heard something, like a bird call and as he bullied the shop starboard the horizon turned red and he made the decision to point their ship in that directions. The waves as much as their engine power had washed them into board. It all sounded like a sparkling fantasy but Jazz imagined he might imagine worse in the same situation.

“Ya find anythin’?” Punch asked now that they had retreated to their one room.

“No...” Jazz said. There was a knock at the door. It was Prowl with an armload of bedding. “Thank ya.

“We can drag up a cot,” Prowl offered. “Though it is not terribly comfortable. We have them in case we need to turn the pub into an emergency shelter.”

“We’re fine,” Jazz assured him. “Rico ‘n me’ve bunked together before.”

“Thank ya,” Punch said. “I don’t think I want either o’ them sulkin’ bout sore backs. ‘N it would certainly be one o’ them ‘n not me.”

“I should hope so,” Prowl agreed. There was a rumble above their helms. “It would appears the eye is passing.”

“Those mecha couldn’t o’ gotten more lucky,” Punch declared.

“I could not agree more,” Prowl said.

“Do ya normally repair broken vessels for free?” Jazz asked.

“Damaxus relies on a healthy sea,” Prowl replied. “Some ship owners pinch their shanix and will let their ships sail with cracked hauls and worse. As a community, we all agreed it was better if we see the work done ourselves for the sake of our island.”

“Shipwrights gotta fuel,” Ricochet spoke up. “Someone must pay’em.”

“We have a fund,” Prowl explained. “Everyone who can pays into it. Few on Damaxus dream of reaches. We only want to live our lives in safety and comfort. When we work together, we stand the best hope o’ it.”

“Straxus would sooner cut out in his optics,” Punch said after Prowl took his leave.

“Wonder how long it’ll last once more mecha realize that Damaxus is a paradise?” Jazz wondered out loud.

“Ya’d think they’d be tryin’ to carve out their stake already,” Punch said. “Damaxus is so close to Polyhex, I don’t know why Straxus ain’t heard o’ the boon already.”

“Maybe his scouts got eaten by sharkticon,” Jazz offered.

“Ya joke, but...” Punch hummed. “These mecha are saintly, no question. But we best remember saints can be the most ruthless killers when dealin’ wit sinners. We gotta keep our guards up, ‘cause we ain’t saints.”

[a-killer-obsession]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3 || Part One

PART 5/6 - TAKE A HIKE (Wire + bonus Heat)

CW: somnophilia, p in v sex, unsafe sex, creampie, public sex, semi-public sex, outdoor sex, choking, spanking, deep throating, face fucking, use of colour consent system, hate fuck, degrading language, fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, aftercare

WC: ~3.5k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin @bbnbhm

You expected the sweltering warmth in the small tent that came with sharing the room with a human radiator like Heat, but what you didn't expect were the wet sloppy sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy as you woke up on your belly. It shouldn't have been a surprise really, you'd both gone to bed naked and if you were him you'd probably want to take a bite out of your juicy ass for breakfast too. Your moans alerted him to the fact that you were awake, but he didn't let up, bringing you to an orgasm that was already almost fully formed before you'd even come too. He ran his arms up and down your thighs, fondling the fat on your ass whenever his hands reached them, greedily lapping up your creamy release.

“Sorry,” he kissed your thighs in apology as he finally let up, “couldn't help myself,” he bit down on the flesh of your ass and you let out a squeak, earning a possessive growl in response.

“Well? You gonna fuck me then, Heat?” You purred, raising your ass a little to give him access. He gave your ass a small playful spank before lining himself up, his knees either side of your legs, sheathing himself with a groan. He pushed your ass back down flat, the extra pressure making him wild as he started to fuck you at a desperate and needy pace, already having been hard and craving for an hour before he'd caved and eaten you out.

“Hnng, so tight,” he moaned, grunting with every thrust he made, the wet sounds of flesh smacking against flesh no doubt audible to anyone who might pass by, or who might be awake next door. You didn't care, you loved being loud, and you moaned shamelessly as he rutted into you, chasing his own release. His long blue hair made a curtain around you, tickling your back as he moved.

“Yes, yes, use me baby,” you moaned, “oh that feels so good, use me like your little cocksleeve”

“Fuck,” he grunted against your shoulder blade, his forehead pressed against you as he penetrated you so fucking deep, his piercings rubbing against your g-spot and making you see stars. “Dirty girl,” he groaned, “gonna- gonna fill you up”

“Breed me, baby,” you purred, every muscle in your body tensing and releasing as his hard thrusts made you cum suddenly with a scream. You clamped down hard on him as you came, and he let out a whine as he unloaded inside you, his massive load dripping out as he made his final thrusts, making sure he painted your walls with every last drop, before finally collapsing against your back.

“So good~” you mumbled in your afterglow haze, “so fucking good~ hnng~”

“You two done? I made breakfast,” Killer called from outside your tent, tapping on the fabric wall. Heat spooked and pulled out, falling backwards off the mattress with a heavy thunk, very nearly taking the whole tent with him as he hit the flexible wall. Killer gave the rounded silhouette against the wall a small kick and laughed, Heat quickly scooting away from it lest he be booted again.

“Oi!” Heat scowled, “don't fuckin’ spook me like that!”

“Cry me a river, lovebird,” Killer laughed, “breakfast is on your table [y/n], for both of you”

“Thanks Kil!” You called back, hearing the gravel crunch underfoot as he headed back to the kitchen building.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Heat mumbled, throwing on his pants and unzipping the tent door to quickly retrieve the plates. You wrapped yourself in a blanket as he came back in, and set up your laptop so you could both watch a movie while you ate, Ipad baby realness.

Heat had stuck around for the remainder of the movie and a little of another until Killer returned to let him know he and Kid were heading to the beach. They invited you as well, but today was your last full day at camp and you wanted to take advantage of the nice weather to go for a hike. Plus, you fucking hated beaches, there was no good way to fuck a stranger on a beach without finding sand in your pussy for the next month. Lunch, water, drawing supplies and a picnic blanket packed in your backpack, you took a quick shower and redressed in a tank top and shorts, along with a sturdy pair of boots, and headed for the trail.

The hike wasn't too difficult, there were a few areas that were near vertical, practically climbing up the embedded stones like the world's least practical staircase, but the rest of the walk was quite pleasant. It was mostly through dense forest, the only sound around you being the native birds calling to each other, and the crunch of dirt under boots. Every now and then the path would veer close to a cliffside, offering an unhindered view of the valley that got better and better the further up you got. At the summit was a small clearing, space enough for a few picnic blankets at a time, and a flat forested area behind that was ideal if you had to take a piss while you were up here. From the clearing you could see all the way to the other side of the valley, to further along where the valley met the ocean, and the small uninhabited islands a little way off the coast.

You were glad for the near constant shade on the way up, but with the sun now high in the sky you set about laying out your blanket and coating yourself in sunscreen. You took a long drink of your water as you sat down, before pulling out your lunch and enjoying the view while you ate. Hunger sated, you pulled out your art supplies and doodled.

You must have been up at the summit for maybe half an hour when soft footfalls on dirt alerted you to the approach of another hiker. You turned and smiled to yourself as you saw Wire coming up the trail, though he hadn't seen you yet, his eyes focused on the uneven ground under his feet. You turned back to your drawing pad as you waited for him to finish his ascent, hearing the indignant huff behind you as he noticed you sitting there.

“Ah, Wire, step into my office,” you patted the blanket next to you.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Sour puss,” you snorted. There was a long silence as he just stood behind you, admiring the view, before turning his gaze down at you curiously.

“What are you drawing?” He finally relented. You lifted your sketchpad for him to see the, in your opinion very tasteful, drawing of Heat's pierced dick. “For Christ's sake” he scowled, he wished he didn't recognize the drawing so clearly.

You giggled as you brought the sketchpad back down, closing it and setting it back in your bag. You laid back on the blanket, enjoying the sun on your midriff and legs, your arms folded under your head and your eyes closed. Wire's eyes scanned down your body before letting out a huff and sitting cross legged beside you.

“Finally decided to allow my company, have you?” You smirked, your eyes were still closed but you could feel the shift in the air and hear his clothes moved as he sat.

“Whatever,” he grunted, “just trying to enjoy the view. Don't get any ideas, slut, I'm not fucking you just cos the others all have”

“I wear that title with pride thank you very much,” you replied, “besides, given how good your friends are, I seriously doubt you could do any better, so why would I bother?”

“Take a fucking hike, slut,” he growled.

“I already did, how do you think I got here?” You snorted, “asshole”

Before you could register what was happening his hand was on your throat, not choking, but certainly adding enough force to be threatening. You weren't scared of him though, you knew he was just worked up. In truth he probably needed to get laid, badly. Maybe then he'd fucking relax.

“You're gonna have to do it harder than that if you wanna kill me,” you smirked, “unless you're just trying to play the dominant? Is that what you want, big boy? You wanna throw me around, show me who's boss?”

“Yes,” he growled, “fucking brat”

“Then do it,” you spat directly in his face, your pussy already slick with the promise of a rough hate fuck. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and looked at you. His expression read as boredom, but his pupils were blown out with lust.

“You know the colour system?” He said, holding your throat a little tighter while his other hand yanked your tank top up enough to free a breast and grope it hard.

“Yes sir,” you smirked, “do your fucking worst”

In a flash he had you up on your feet, dragging you easily, one hand still on your throat, the other under your ass to support your weight so he wouldn't actually choke you. He dropped you next to a tree, spinning you to face it and pulling your shorts and panties to your ankles without even bothering with the fly. His large hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, before he pulled your hips away from the tree, forcing you to support your weight against the bark as you bent over. He lifted his hand and brought it down fast, the reverb of his harsh smack on your ass echoing in the surrounding trees. You choked out a moan, silk dripping down your inner thighs.

“Stupid fucking slut, think you know better than everyone,” smack, “going around fucking whoever you please,” smack, “disgusting little whore who needs to be taught a lesson about respect,” smack, smack, smack. “Colour?”

“Green,” you moaned. A particularly harsh spank came down on your ass and you whimpered. “Green, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Maybe the slut does know a thing or two about respect,” he hummed, admiring how red and inflamed your ass was, a clear handprint on your supple flesh. “Too bad about that ruined pussy though, it's probably stretched beyond repair, gonna have to use you ass instead if I wanna feel anything”

“Why, you got a tiny cock?” You smirked. SMACK. You let out a strange combination of a pained whine and a moan at the particularly hard hit.

“Why don't you see for yourself, brat,” he grabbed you by your hair and forced you to your knees, your hands on his thighs for support and your ass cheeks throbbing as you looked up at him with half lidded eyes. He unzipped his shorts and pulled them down along with his briefs, his heavy cock springing out and smacking your face deliberately. You let out an audible gasp, you didn't think it was possible to find a man bigger than Heat but jesus fucking christ, this man was a fucking monster. He smirked proudly at the clear surprise on your face.

“I- I don't know if I can take that,’ you stuttered.

“You can, and you will,” he assured you, that same bored expression back as he wiped the head of his cock against your mouth, “now open up, slut, I wanna hear you fucking choke on it”

He was at least polite in the way he let you adjust to his size instead of shoving it all straight in, controlling your head with a hand in your hair while his other hand jerked off what you couldn't reach. You couldn't possibly reach the base, gagging as his tip hit the back of your throat, nowhere near taking his full length. As soon as your throat relaxed and the gagging calmed, breathing out your nose to settle yourself, he pulled your hair tight to hold you still and started fucking your mouth. His other hand wrapped around your neck, pressing just hard enough to feel the way it buldged as he throat fucked you. He made quiet grunts as he thrusted, your eyes watering from the gag but you were determined to not show weakness.

“Maybe that slut throat is good for something after all,” he grunted, “first I'm gonna making you gag on my cum, then I'm gonna pound that pretty little ass of yours”

You moaned around his cock, one hand running down between your legs to touch yourself, while the other held his thigh for support.

“Good cocksleeve,” he groaned, “gonna fill you up in a second, gonna feed you so good. Take my load you stupid slut”

He stilled with his cock deep down your throat, gagging and choking around him while he hit the back of your head with a flat palm to force you deeper, your nose buried in his dark pubes as rope after rope of hot cum poured directly down your throat. He let you go finally and you took a heavy breath, his thumb forcing your mouth open so he could make sure you swallowed, admiring the wet streaks from strained tears on your cheeks, before slapping your face with a pleased hum.

“Look at you, finally good for something,” he smirked, “go get on the blanket with your ass in the air, I'm not done with you yet”

You struggled to stand for a moment, Wire helping you to your feet as you wobbled. “Colour?” He asked with a little concern.

“Green, sir,” you smiled coyly, making your way to the blanket and looking back at him as you bent over and used your hands to spread your ass cheeks, an invitation, or perhaps a challenge. He made a growl as he knelt down behind you, running his hand through your folds and earning a needy whine.

“Fuck, so fucking wet,” he rubbed your soaking clit before putting a finger inside you, followed quickly by a second. “You really loved choking on my cock huh?” His thumb toyed with your asshole as he fingered your pussy, adding a third finger in your eager cunt and suddenly starting a brutal pace without warning, his thumb sinking inside your ass while you were distracted. You let out shrill whines as he finger fucked you, switching his thumb to his index finger as you loosened enough to fully take it to the base. He spat on your ass and let the fluid drip to your hole, lubricating it as he added a second. All of a sudden you clamped down around him, screaming and clawing at the blanket, squirting hard with a splash and soaking the blanket underneath you. He didn't let up for a second, scooping some of the slick release from your folds and pushing it into your asshole, forcing in a third finger.

You whined at the stretch, but he worked patiently at loosening you enough to take him, spitting again every now and then to lubricate, his other hand alternating between finger fucking and rubbing your clit as a distraction till he managed a forth finger in. He wouldn't fuck you till he could get that forth to the knuckle, he was a rough dominant but he wouldn't hurt you needlessly. Your second orgasm came with a little more warning, Wire cooing praises about how well you were doing as you shook and creamed on his fingers, the afterglow finally allowing you to relax enough to where he was sure you could take him.

“There's a good girl,” he cooed, withdrawing his digits from both holes, making you whine as he left you empty. “Hush now, I'm gonna fill you right back up. You clean girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, “got- got checked last week,” you panted, “sir,” you quickly tacked on to the end.

“Good girl,” he praised, making you preen as the head of his thick cock pressed against your ass, “colour?”

“Green, sir,” you whined, “fuck me Wire, please”

His cock slid inside you slowly, still a stretch despite his preparations, and he groaned lowly as you took him inch by inch. He didn't force himself all the way in, but he was deep enough that it felt good for both of you, spitting again almost for good luck as he started to pump in and out of you.

“Good girl, I won't take long,” he promised, “you're so tight and hot, I'm gonna fill you real soon”

“Please,” you moaned, too fucked out to think of anything else but the pull of his cock in your ass, and how utterly dirty it felt to be letting a stranger do this out in the open air. Whenever you had the strength to open your eyes, you could see the campsite below, the red ute now returned, you wondered if the others could see you getting plowed from down there, or hear your deep moans. Wire held your hips tight, fucking you at a languid pace, wary of hurting you if he lost himself and went too hard. He only increased his pace bit by bit as you relaxed, watching how your hands went from clutching at the blankets to more relaxed, your head pressed to the side as you panted and moaned underneath him.

“Good girl, doing so good,” he grunted, and he could feel you contract around him at his praises, “you gonna cum from this? Fuck, such a good girl”

You whined as he increased his speed a little, your thighs shaking as his movement forced a weak orgasm from you, too worn to do any more, your legs barely able to keep you upright any longer, entirely relying on his firm hold on your hips. Your eyes were closed, your forehead dripping with sweat, your mouth stuck in a goofy looking smile.

“Just one more second, you're doing so good,” Wire groaned, speeding up one final time as his movements became erratic and desperate, his cock throbbing inside your tight ass, “oh fuck, fuckkk, there it is, take my cum sweetheart”

He let out a long groan and stilled as his seed pooled inside you, making sure you took every drop before he pulled away to admire your gaping asshole. “Push it out for me baby,” he purred, his hands holding your cheeks apart. You willed the muscles in your ass to move with the very last of your strength, feeling his cum dripping down your pussy before finally collapsing against the blanket.

“Good girl [y/n],” he cooed, rubbing your back in soothing circles, “you did so good. Just rest now”

He let you catch your breath before offering you his water, helping you sit up. He held you up till you were able to support yourself, then he gathered your discarded shorts and helped you slip them back on. Scooping you up bridal style he moved you to rest against a tree, forcing an opened muesli bar into your hand, shaking the dirt from your blanket and putting your things neatly in your bag while you ate. When everything was put away and you were done eating, he knelt down in front of you, his back to you.

“Climb on, I'll carry you down,” he offered.

“You don't gotta do that,” you yawned.

“Come on, you're exhausted,” he replied, “I was pretty rough on you”

You finally relented and clamboured onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he held your thighs and stood. God he was so fucking tall, what was this, a fucking fairground ride? It was a good thing you weren't afraid of heights. He dipped to loop the straps of your backpack over his arm before starting back down the trail, and you yawned sleepily as your head rested against his broad back and his soft hoodie.

“Have a nap, I've got you,” he suggested. All he got was a bleary mmm in reply before you were out for the count, the quiet rhythmic bouncing of his steps acting like a gentle rocking and putting you right to sleep in your post sex haze.

[NEXT PART]