#a hitch in the holster

[aprettyspy]

I indulged myself and made a cover for A Hitch in The Holster. Just an excuse for lots of lovely pics, really

[foxsoulcourt]

Thanks to @aprettyspy​ + their fic A Hitch in the Holster, I’m a teensy bit fixated on James Bond in white t-shirts, without or without holsters. Found this pic + article while looking for a different picture. Love it: James Bond on a bike. 

Love that this article is yet another opportunity to highlight Suttirat Larlarb’s costuming skills on NTTD. Every time I hear about the process she goes through, my mind boggles. 

"When we knew we needed a day suit, I knew we would approach Tom Ford about providing one. The first part of the equation was they asked us to come to the Sloane Street atelier and have a look through all the swatch books. And we first asked if they could send them to Pinewood because it's obviously a little bit of a trek. (Editor's note: Pinewood is about 45 minutes from central London, without traffic) And they said well, you might want to come here because of how many swatch books we have. And there are something like 2,500 swatches. So there was an afternoon when I was there going through 2,500 swatches and kind of making the first pass of thoughts based on what our needs are.

"I make an initial selection, we look at cuts of suits that exist — we know that for Daniel we'll tailor that cut specifically to him, and then with the initial fabric selection, they'll be able to tell me what what meterage is available in each fabric, and from that we'll then decide which are the top contenders for the fabrics. Because for us, we need to be able to commit to something that we can have 33 of — 33 bespoke suits that covers the two or three precious, perfect suits, then 6-8 others that have to go through levels of action distress. And then on top of that, his photo double, his two stunt doubles, his driving double, all of those things. So the matrix of how all that happens kind of gets filtered into the design choice, because I might like a better fabric but there's only enough to make two suits, so that gets discounted right away. So it's like a Rubik's cube, basically."

33 suits.

For one look.

...

And, oh look: I found That Other Photo. Gulp.

Hat tip to Greg Williams for taking this on the Casino Royale shoot + so.many.more great ones over the years.

[tojisun]

i would loveeee to see what was like the first time simon and reader were like.. together uhum fucked…. like after they went out of the bar that they met at, yk what i mean??? my english is shit im so sorry but i loveeee how you write simon, soft and full of love 😫💞

HI ANON OMG ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS ASK!! im so sorry for how late im replying :(( and no omg ur english is good, pls dont apologize for it ^v^ and thank u so so much ahhhhh <33

prev (context of the ask) // biker!simon mlist

!! smut - minors dni; praises (might be a kink but its def just simon being in luv); purity kink n dumbification but only if u squint hard; unrealistic sex (cervix penetration); female reader

simon parks the car – johnny’s old dodge; fixed it up using scraps from the shop – in front of his place, silent as he listens to you breathe. you’ve been shivering since the entire ride, quiet puffs of your breath only breaking through when simon’s playlist lapses into silence.

he’s been eyeing you from the corners of his eyes ever since you two left the bar, watching as you played with the loose thread on your sweater, eyes darting between him and the expansive road. he licks the back of his teeth, unclenching his jaw to speak, only, you beat him to it.

“wanna kiss you,” you say, so soft that it almost gets drowned by the rising crescendo of the guitar rift rumbling from the speakers.

simon’s breath hitches, the grip he has on the steering wheel tightening, and he turns as you do, your shy gaze trailing from his fists to his eyes. there’s a spark somewhere there, an instant shift that has simon changing his gait, body rippling and before he knows it, he’s reaching out towards you.

you meet him halfway, body getting jostled until you freeze when the seatbelt snaps. simon takes over, reassuring as he brushes your hair away from your face, sure fingers trailing to click at the holster so that he can finally tug you close.

you clamber to his lap with his help, trembling legs going over the cup holders before settling on top of him, mindful of the horn. simon catches you anyway, big hands spanning your back, ghosting touches along your spine.

he feels your back quiver as you breathe in, memorizing the way you feel in his touch, on his lap, emitting warmth that tickles his skin. he stares at you for a moment, letting his heartbeat settle. then, he presses forward to catch your lips.

you gasp his name, a soft little thing that makes his lungs constrict. he holds you close, steadies you on top of him, slotting his lips easily against your own. your fingers fist his shirt, bundling the fabric tight, and simon groans when you melt on top of him, a pleasured sigh filtering through, splintering into the air, before being devoured by simon’s greed.

he nips at your lips, his tongue slick as it slide against yours, and it’s all too warm, too feverish, too good. and all parts not enough.

the clack of teeth echo in his ears, ringing so loudly, ripping him into needy shreds. you two separate with a whimper. simon blinks his eyes open, catching the way you chase his lips, your own throbbing and wet and plump.

“shit, baby,” he whispers and dives into you again, unable to stop himself.

smaller hands rove over his body, rubbing from his elbows to grip his shoulders, and settling atop his head to fist the strands of his hair. he growls at the first pull and it leaves you putty in his arms, swaying your hips like molten caramel – languid and tantalizing.

he needs more. desperately.

he breaks the kiss again, nuzzling his nose on yours in apology when you whined, and murmurs, “wanna take this inside?”

simon hears the ragged drag of your breath and feels the jostling of your head as you nod.

he hums. “use y’r words, sweetheart.”

“please,” you reply instantly. “i want to. take this inside, i mean.”

simon presses a quick kiss on your lips as a reward. “of course,” he says, gentle as he tugs you closer to him. “let me take care of you, yeah?”

-

you hiccup at the first slide of his cock, gentle and tentative as it strokes past the fluttering lips of your dripping pussy, and presses in between your plush walls. you cry, burying your head on the pillows, feeling full even when simon’s cock isn’t even fully in yet.

the bulbed head breaches further, carving out space for his thickness, and you go taut, breathing raggedly, tongue dry and wet at the same time. distantly, you hear simon curse, lilted litanies of your name spilling from gritted teeth.

you feel your heart beat in staccato, pounding within the cages of your ribs at the realization that he’s feeling the same way – devoured by the intensity of your bodies matching up. you push your hips back to him, eating up more of his length, and simon’s hold on your waist gains strength, stopping you from moving any more.

it’s not like you can, not with the way your arms snap underneath the weight of your body and pleasure, and you tip into the sheets, a cry spilling from your lips. simon pauses, one of his hands leaving your waist to let his warm palm glide along your back. his touch tickles the ridges of your shoulder blades before he presses down on the valley along your spine.

he’s everywhere, it seems – deep in you, warm against your back. you don’t know what it is but it makes you sob, crashing desire razing from the base of your neck to the tips of your toes.

“shh, my love,” simon whispers, his voice ragged and thick with his own desire. “y’r doin’ so amazing for me. so beautiful. so delicate.”

you whimper, tilting your head to the side as you gasp in a breath. you try to reply but your tongue feels so heavy and your mind is blank. it is only filled with a deafening static and simon.

simonsimonsimon.

it’s all so much. it’s still not enough. it’s a miasma of carnality – ever so expanding now that you’ve got a taste of it.

simon kisses the back of your head. “can y’take all of it f’r me?”

all of it? all of him?

he’s not- he’s not fully in yet?

you garble a reply, a mix of yes and please and simon’s name. simon, in return, peppers kisses on your back and murmured words on the trembling rise of where your lungs are. he holds you again, his hands leaving your waist to wrap your fists with his warm touch instead, and it makes you swoon, unintelligible cooing noises tumbling from your lips and into the space between.

the moment simon sinks himself deep, his pelvis hitting the flesh of your ass, you keen, drawn out and long. tears trickle from your eyes and drool spill from the corner of your lips, staining his pillow. but it doesn’t matter because simon, big and filling simon, ruts his hips once, twice, three times, before he’s pulling out again.

“si-!” his name dies on your tongue when simon snaps his hips back, his cock sliding into your pussy and breaching your tight walls again. you scream, a broken cry of your pleasure ripping itself from your throat.

simon doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop ��� why would he? it feels so good!

sogoodsogoodsogood!

“so tight f’r me,” you hear him rumble, his lips close to your ear. he sounds so drunk in his pleasure. so drunk in you. “so good, lovie.”

“feel where i am hittin’?” he thrusts in harder, kissing somewhere deep, the thick head snug in your cunt. “feel me ‘ere?”

simon punches in his cock again, the weight of his balls slapping against your cunt, and you realize. god you realize what it is he’s hitting.

you squeal, slick gushing along the length of his cock, pooling along the wet lips of your pussy, slicking you two even more.

“yeah,” simon laughs, nipping along your neck. “s’your cervix, isn’t it, love?” he ruts his cock deep again when he says this, exchanging his fast thrusts for slow humping, making you feel every inch. every press.

you sob, nodding because yes, yes it is!

simon croons, nosing along your hair, breathing you in. “y’r takin’ me so well. takin’ me so greedily. y’r so precious, lovie. so perfect, so beautiful.”

his words slur together as he gets lost to his own pleasure, sinking into the euphoria engulfing him. you moan, choked squeals of his name lolling out of your babbling mouth. you feel untethered. floaty. you feel so full and so stuffed, your belly fluttering at every deep kiss of simon’s cock.

you feel so-

“simon! si- ah!- si! si!”

the spray of your squirt falls on your unhearing ears, a stuttering white buzz that fills your mind muffling everything that isn’t simon’s cock and your pleasure. simon curses from behind you, his face falling to the crook of your neck again, shaking as he fucks you harder and faster, sporadic thrusts turning into shallow pumps as he chases his own peaking pleasure.

and you take it. you take it like the good girl he told you that you are, limp and overstimulated, because simonsimonsimon.

-

from: soap (02:13)

> so i dropped off your bike :D

> may have heard you fucking your date.

> how are your neighbours not calling to complain?

to: soap (06:23)

remind me to block your number. <

WHEW!! not my best work :(( but i enjoyed writing this holy shit??

tagging: @babygirl-riley @teehee-47 @comeonatmebruh

[statisticallymorelikely]

✨00Q end of the year fic rec list ✨ (to commemorate the year of the lord 2023 when this ship came back to kick my ass)

the simplest of crimes by pdameron - fake marriage AU. my favorite 00Q fake married au just because the stakes are so low like they didn't have to do all that but the build up is so good.

come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron - florist!Q AU. this really got me giggling and twirling my hair.

James Bond Will Return by sorion - post-Spectre James comes back. a very charming character study.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron - pining Q. beautifully written with just the right amount of whump.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron - fake relationship but posh. i love whodunnits.

Hold Tight by orphan_account - Spectre fix-it. and fix it they did. also has my second favorite Q name.

lacunae (just the blood you owe) by finestkind - Q offers comfort as bond deals with grief. this fic honestly makes me ache, the way it handles friendship and grief and love UGH.

Say Something (I'm Giving Up On You) by Brihna - Spectre re-write where Q and James sleep before he goes off to Mexico. possibly my favorite Spectre fix-it, love emotional constipation and miscommunication.

Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac - Q pulls bond out of retirement for an emergency mission. the best mission fic i have ever read hands down.

bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton - soulmate au. gorgeous writing.

if I couldn't be strong by SailorChibi - post-Spectre James is found abandoned in a hospital in a coma. i love how quietly vindictive Q is in this.

a bloodless coup by Ark - marathon sex. very vulnerable.

I Could've Been a Maths Teacher by Brihna - Q branch gets invaded. v good translation of the comic into prose.

I Don't Take Your Pleasure For Granted by Catchclaw - Q develops a crush. love me some pathetic Q.

I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth - Skyfall re-write, lots of Q whump. the hurt is so good but the comfort is even better. plus i love attack roombas.

Favours by dhampir72 - pining from Q's POV. fun fact: my gf once quoted a line of this fic to me and i knew immediately which fic she was reading, that's how much i've read this.

rain by Aniron84 - touch starved Q. god GOD, this fic!! there was a time in my life, i read this multiple times a day. the description of loneliness is so on point it always hurts.

Fidelity by marlowe_tops - Q seems to have picked up a stray. local idiot doesn’t know he’s in a relationship, struggles mentally

Indelible by enjolras_lexa - 5+1 of bond breaking into Q's apartment. quite gentle and funny.

A Hitch in the Holster by APrettySpy - Q is having A Time during a heat wave and like Q i'm not immune to the holster

when the world isn't fair by Mlle_Heloise - James rescues Q's holiday. warm and fluffy.

The Pros and Cons of Wayward Agents by Brihna - Q whump with a protective Bond. is it bad to be all teehee while reading someone beat someone else to unconsciousness

Best Dressed by HandsAcrossTheSea - PWP with kilts! really good p0rn and with bottom Bond to boot!

Through A New Lens: A Spectacular Love Story by christinefromsherwood - Q discovers he has a glasses kink, or does he? listen, i too am not immune to daniel craig in glasses so i can relate.

talk / listen by thestalwartheart - dirty talk. a masterclass in p0rn honestly, SO good.

The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 - soulmate au. will never stop recommending this, it's so tragic and yet not?

[drabblesandimagines]

Hitched

Leon Kennedy x fem reader, established relationship Couple of swears, mentions of blood

The sudden noise behind you sends you spinning on your heels to confront it. Your pistol is raised, finger slightly squeezing the trigger in preparation to blow the next monstrosity’s head off only to see Leon’s alarmed face, his hands up in surrender, gun dangling from his grip.

“Whoa, baby, it’s just me.”

You exhale in relief, immediately dropping and holstering your weapon. “Sorry – jumpy. You okay?”

You look him up and down, looking for injuries after you’d been separated a little while ago. It felt like every other mission these days led to the two of you working your way through underground caverns, as evil scientists seem to just love setting up their bases there, with ill-maintained wooden walkways that collapsed below your feet. Leon had gone toppling down the last one, reassuring you he was fine - he did always manage to forward roll his way out of taking any impact – and said by the map he’d pilfered from one of the supply rooms, it looks like your paths would cross again eventually and it meant the two of you could cover more ground until then.

“I’m fine. You, however…” He steps forward, grasps you by the elbow and pulls it up gently in front of you to reveal a nasty slice across your forearm, dripping blood on the dirt.

“Slashed out at me as I took it out. Misjudged the space. I blame the moody lighting.” You joke, but Leon doesn’t respond, inspecting the damage.

“I’m okay. We should keep moving, we can’t be far from-”

“Uh-uh. Come on, there’s an alcove just back this way to provide us some cover whilst I see to this.” His grip is still firmly on your elbow as he tugs you back the way he emerged from.

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna leave a blood trail if we don’t. Besides, as your fiancé, I insist.”

The fiancé card is not one that Leon pulls out often on a mission, but has started to do so considering how long your engagement has been. He’d proposed two years ago, literally the moment he got you within eyesight as he returned from a solo mission to Spain to rescue the President’s daughter. He didn’t have a ring – later rectified – but just dropped to his knees and asked you to become his wife. It wasn’t like you hadn’t started wedding planning. There was a folder of brochures under the coffee table, half-drafted emails to venues and caterers on your laptop, saved photos of wedding gowns and centerpieces… But it just felt impossible to ever truly put a plan in place, nail down a concrete date, you didn’t know where the two of you were going to be one month from the next. Sorry, terrorism, could you wait a week or two for the Kennedy wedding to pass first?

“Okay.” You concede and allow him to guide you back a few hundred metres to the alcove – it’s more a deep crevice in the wall, but it won’t be obvious the two of you are hiding in there if anyone or anything was to stroll by.

“Sit.” He points to the space furthest back and you drop down, crossing your legs beneath you so he can crouch down in front. You lay your wounded arm out in front of you with a slight wince. If you were being honest, it did hurt.

“Here, chew this. It’ll make you feel better.” He passes you one of those stupid green herbs from his supplies. The man swears by them as a natural pain reliever – useful in a bind, he claims.

“Ugh, really? But they’re so bitter.” You shake your head, “I’ll be fine without.”

He quirks his eyebrow at you, pulling out a roll of gauze from one of his pouches to begin to dress your wound. “Sweetheart, either you chew it, or I will go mamma bird on your ass, chew it for you and then kiss you so hard you’ll have no other choice but to swallow.”

You laugh, dryly. “I think that might be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Chew.”

Again, you concede. Leon won’t stop at anything to ensure you’re taken care of. As his gentle fingers begin to wrap the bandage tightly around your wound in an effort to stem the bleeding, you crunch the herb between your teeth. It’s scratchy, horrendously bitter, makes you want to gag almost. You can’t chew fast enough to get rid of it. He is right about them, though – a moment or two later the stabbing, stinging pain in your forearm where the creature slashed you dulls to a low, much more tolerable ache.

He has a smug look on his face, knowing your tells too well.

“Told you it would make you feel better.”

He finishes wrapping the gauze around your arm and ties it off with a tight knot, slicing the excess off with his knife. He puts away the roll before he turns and sits down besides you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, kissing your crown. You can feel his heart pounding beneath your cheek – he was worried about you. He knows you can take care of yourself, you’ve been through as much hell as he has, but seeing you injured always sets him off.

You know you should press on – BOWs wait for no man - but it’s clear the two of you need a moment to catch your breath, take stock of what’s occurred, work out how you’ve ended up here - again.

You begin to fiddle with the engagement ring that hangs around your neck. Too much risk wearing it on your finger when out on missions, but it felt odd and wrong to leave it at home on your dressing table, so you’d settled for having it like this, tucking it away on a chain out of sight, but playing with it had soon turned into a nervous habit.

Leon clocks your fidgeting immediately and takes your hand, lacing his fingers through. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

“About?” He probes, gently.

“What we’re doing here.”

“You forget the brief?” Leon teases and you elbow him lightly in the stomach – not that you’d manage much damage given how muscular he is.

“Like, is this just our life now? Every couple of months, another set of BOWs appears, we deal with and eliminate - rinse and repeat.”

“I…” He sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I hope not. I’d like to think that one day we stop them all and we get a pretty sweet retirement package.”

“I want to get married.” You say, softly.

“Hey, I’m the one who did the proposing, you’re the one who said you wanted to wait until-”

“I know, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I can’t keep holding off for a big event that I’m not sure we’ll ever get to have.” You pause a moment as you sit up, turning to face him head on. “The second we are out of here, I want to marry you.”

“Seriously?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously. Registry office. We’ll wear what we’re wearing – blood splatters, camos, bruises, all of that. I don’t care. I just want to be your wife already.”

“My wife, huh?” He grins at the idea. “Yeah, I want that too. I can’t lie, though, I was looking forward to seeing you in a wedding dress.”

“You will. We’ll do that later – a party or whatever, something that can be rescheduled easy enough if the world goes to shit. But this, this can just be us, huh?”

“Just us, baby.” He places a hand on the side of your face and guides you in for a heated kiss, teasing your bottom lip with his teeth until you permit his tongue entrance and the wrestle for dominance begins. After a moment or two, you place your palm flat on his chest and push back.

“We’re getting distracted, Leon.”

“We sure are.” He gets to his feet and offers you his hand, pulling you up with ease. “Come on, let’s go kill these bastards and get hitched.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, handsome.”

--

“Okay, Leon said it was casual, but I didn’t picture this casual.” Hunnigan appears behind you in the restroom mirror, dressed in her usual work suit, albeit with a paper bag in hand. Leon had radio’ed in as soon as your objective was clear – DSO teams swooping in to clear up and confiscate and destroy the weapons retrieved – and asked Hunnigan to get them into the registry office today.

“Yeah, we were going for work casual, but we had to leave the weapons in the SUV.” You shrug, washing the grime off your face in the sink. You supposed you should at least prep that much. “Thank you for getting us in.”

She shrugs, “It was one of Leon’s easier requests, funnily enough.” She holds the bag in front of her in offering. “For you.”

“Just me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t think Leon will like it as much.” You take the bag with a smile and place it down on the counter to open it – a small bouquet of white daisies within.

“Just so I can catch the bouquet, obviously.”

--

Hunnigan acts as the witness, of course, as you find yourself standing in front of the officiant. He barely batted an eyelid at your attire and you think he must’ve seen all sorts come through the door in his time, so the couple who decided to get married in tactical gear, bruised and bandaged, is just another day.

“Do we have rings?” The officiant questions and before you can say no, Hunnigan steps forward again, handing over a box.

“Should’ve known you’d have our ring sizes on file.” Leon laughs.

“Had a suspicion it might come in handy one day.” She smiles, taking her place back in a seat behind the two of you. The officiant opens the box to reveal two simple gold wedding bands.

Leon takes your hand then – his leather gloves removed for the occasion – and smiles. He’s got a bruise blossoming on his left cheek, his hair’s a beautiful mess, but he’s here and you’re here and it’s perfect.

“If you’ll repeat after me.” The officiant looks at Leon, who continues to look lovingly at you, biting his lip in an excited smile. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy…”

He wets his lips with his tongue and squeezes your hand. “I, Leon Scott Kennedy….”

The vows are over before you know it. You feel giddy, a combination of exhaustion and love, surely.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. It gives me great honour to introduce to you,” he looks at Hunnigan, “the new Mr and Mrs Kennedy. You may now kiss the bride.”

Leon doesn’t hesitate, pulling you in close and into a bruising kiss, dipping you back a little before returning you to your feet. “Just a little show for our guest.” He whispers in your ear, nodding his head over at an applauding Hunnigan.

“Dare I ask about honeymoon plans?” Hunnigan comments as the three of you exit the registry office. “I’m expecting the two of you back in HQ tomorrow for a debrief, after all.”

“I don’t know. Any ideas, beautiful?” Leon brings up your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss across your knuckles, the gold band sitting snugly on your ring finger.

“Yeah, I have one.” You nod. “I wanna burger – a real greasy one – and fries. And a beer.”

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” He drops your hand and wraps his arm around your waist and slips another under your knees, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms and you squeal.

“Gotta carry my beautiful wife over the threshold of the nearest diner, don’t I?”

You grin. “That is the tradition. Oh, and speaking of traditions…” You toss the bouquet over Leon’s shoulder into Hunnigan’s arms. “Look who’s next!”

“On second thought…” she walks over to you and places them back into your hands, “keep it. I might as well wait for the redo. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. As a wedding gift, I won’t expect you in until the afternoon.”

“Too kind, Hunnigan.” Leon smirks as she waves over her shoulder and heads towards the parking lot.

Once she’s out of sight, you grab the back of your husband’s head, pulling him down into a chaste kiss and smile up at him. “I love you, Leon.”

“I love you too, Mrs Kennedy.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x 400 Followers Event.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[natashaismylove]

A meeting in the dark |N. Romanoff

Summary: A vampire has been causing havoc in the village, making everyone scared for their lives. Y/n decides to take matters into her own hands, but doesn’t realize that that is exactly what the vampire wants…

Pairing: Dark!Dom!Vampire!Natasha x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dub-con, Mentions murder and death, Stalking, Mentions kidnapping, Wooden stake used as a dildo (Reader receiving), Oral (Reader receiving), Nipple play, Teasing, Praise, Sort of public sex, Biting, Blood, Masochism, Sadism. 18+ Minors DNI

Word count: 2k

═════════☾☆☽═════════

You could feel her eyes on you. You could feel her watching your every move as you walked through the woods. You couldn't hear her, you couldn't see her, but you knew she was there. Your wooden stake was secured to your belt, hidden by your jacket, and you hoped you could reach for it in time.

You knew this was a stupid idea. Using yourself as bait to kill a vampire wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You couldn’t allow more people in your town to die. You didn’t want to see any more corpses bled dry with bite marks on their neck. 

You nearly caught your foot on a root sticking up from the ground, but you were quick to regain your balance as you continued further into the woods. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the friends you’d lost to this wretched vampire. You wanted her dead.

“Where exactly are you taking me?”

You felt your blood run cold as you froze. She knew you were aware of her. You pulled your stake out from the holster, grasping it tightly in your hand. You heard a twig snap behind you and you knew she was approaching. Her steps came closer and closer until she was just close enough for you to-

Her reflexes were quicker than yours and she caught your raised hand clutching the wooden stake. She let out a cold chuckle, “You were going to stab me, huh? That’s not very nice of you.”

You clenched your jaw in fear, staring at the pale woman in front of you. Her red eyes bore into yours, a wicked smirk on her red-painted lips that almost mimicked blood. You couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, but underneath her alluring appearance was an evil killer.

“What was your plan here?” she tilted her head. “Lure me out into the woods and take my life?”

You knew you were trembling, terrified to your core. Her cold hand wrapped around your wrist was a constant reminder of just how close she was, of how easily she could sink her teeth into your neck and have your dead body on the ground in a second.

“I don’t really think you thought this through, did you?” she laughed. “You’re adorable for trying though.”

She pulled the stake out of your hand and placed it in the waistline of her pants before she started walking forwards, causing you to back up with every step she took. Your breath hitched when your back met with a tree, the vampire's face only inches away from yours. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as she stared down at you, a hungry look in her eyes. You felt yourself nearly get lost in them, but you were quick to remind yourself of what she was. She took hold of both of your wrists in one of her hands, pinning them above your head. She leaned in closer, her nose brushing against your jawline. Her mouth hovered over your neck and you shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable bite that would end your life.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill you. Wouldn’t want a pretty thing like you to go to waste like that,” she spoke into your ear, placing a kiss directly under it. 

You blinked in confusion as she pressed more kisses down your neck, sucking gently on your skin to leave a bruise. You felt a moan form in the back of your throat, but you held it back. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long…” she whispered as she moved to the other side of your neck. “Dreamt of you…”

Your breathing picked up at her words. You were confused and scared, but somehow also aroused. You wanted to slap yourself for feeling that way, having such thoughts about a murderous creature.

She chuckled, raising her head up to face you, her nose against yours. “I can smell you, how much this is turning you on.”

You became flustered, your mouth opening in surprise. Said surprise only increased when she quickly took your mouth with her own, kissing you hard. You were taken aback and wanted to pull away, but your body overruled your mind and you returned the kiss. 

This is so wrong rang in your head over and over. You were almost angry at your body for reciprocating, for practically melting into her like this. Her tongue tangled with yours, and a quiet whimper was forced out of you against your will.

The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists slid down your side and to your thigh, raising your leg up against her hip. She placed her thigh between your legs, nudging it up against your center. You moaned at the delicious friction she was creating, a pleasurable shock flowing through your body.

She pulled away but kept her forehead on yours, continuing to grind you against her thigh. “Doesn’t that feel good, angel?”

You kept your mouth shut, shaking your head as if you didn’t want to admit it.

She hummed. “Lie all you want, I can see right through you.”

She placed her hand on your chest, grabbing your shirt before she began to unbutton it. The cold air hit your now bare chest and caused your nipples to harden. You felt so exposed as she looked down at you, taking in all of you with lust written all over her face.

She leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking on it gently. Your head fell back with a moan as she continued, giving your tits just the attention you needed so badly. She moved on to the other one, giving it the same treatment as you continued to let out sounds of pleasure.

She let go of your nipple before she leaned back up. She let go of your hands and took a step back. You looked at her, confused as to why she stopped.

“Undress for me.” She spoke in a low voice, and you knew it wasn’t a question.

You felt shy under her gaze, the guilt over what you were doing burned painfully in your chest. You looked down at the ground before slowly taking off your shirt. You felt embarrassed as you pulled down your pants, now standing in front of her in just your panties.

“Undress completely.” She ordered sternly.

You swallowed and hooked your fingers onto your underwear, shyly dragging them down your legs. You were hyper-aware of the fact that you were now completely naked, standing out in the open in the middle of the forest. 

“Good girl.” She spoke with lust lacing her voice before she stepped closer to you again. She placed her hands on your hips and turned you around. “Hands on the tree.” 

You took a deep breath and did as she told, placing your hands on the tree in front of you. Her hands ran over your ass before she sunk down to her knees, spreading your cheeks to get a view of your pussy. 

She moaned as she watched your hole clench around nothing, your glistening lips were an obvious sign of how turned on you were. “Fuck, that’s a pretty pussy…”

You placed your forehead against the cold tree, trying to control your breathing. That only lasted so long as you felt the air be forced out of your lungs as her mouth attached to your pussy. Her tongue swiped through your slit before circling your clit. She wrapped her lips around your sensitive pearl and you felt your knees nearly buckle under you.

“God, you taste amazing. Could eat you for days non-stop, I swear…” she groaned.

She dipped her tongue into your hole and she felt your clench around her. Her nails dug into your thighs with her tough grip on them as she fucked you with her tongue. You grew wetter and wetter by the second as she caressed your inner walls, nudging lightly against that one heavenly spot inside of you.

She pulled away, playfully biting your ass without actually breaking the skin. She stood up and pushed herself up against you, her chest flush against your back. She placed her hands on your stomach and let one of her hands travel down to your center. 

She parted your lips with her pointer and ring finger, pressing her middle finger against your clit. She started to rub on it while listening to your little whines and whimpers. “You’re so wet for me…” 

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her playing with you. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time. Her fingers expertly worked you so close to your release, but your eyes shot open as you felt something nudge against your hole.

She smiled against your ear as you gasped when you felt the thick end of your wooden stake be pushed into you. You felt so ashamed as you moaned from being filled up, the stake reaching deep inside of you.

The vampire breathed out in awe as she watched it disappear into you. “Look at how well your pussy takes it…”

Your breath hitched as she started to move it in and out of you slowly, coating the object in your wetness. Her other hand continued to rub circles on your clit to make it easier to fuck you with the stake.

She chuckled as she continued to move it into you. “Isn’t it funny? You were gonna kill me with it, but now it’s deep inside of your pussy fucking you. You love it, don’t you? I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”

You only whined in response, refusing to verbally acknowledge how amazing you felt. Her fingers pinched your clit, causing you to yelp. 

“Answer me.” She ordered you angrily. 

You looked down at the ground in shame before nodding. “You’re making me feel good…”

“That’s more like it.” She moved the angle of the stake a little bit until you moaned loudly. “Right there, honey?”

“Mhm!” You hummed as a reply, your head falling back against her shoulder. She continued to hit the spot over and over again and you could feel your body tensing up. 

She grazed her fangs against your neck, placing a kiss on your collarbone. “It won’t kill you if I bite you, it’ll only hurt a bit…you want me to bite you, angel?” She asked you. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding, needing to feel it so badly. Your breathing picked up, your heartbeat hammered in your chest as the knot in your stomach grew. She never let up on moving the stake in and out of you at a hurried pace as she let her teeth sink into your neck. The pain triggered your orgasm and created the most wonderful feeling you had ever experienced in your life.

She released your neck from her mouth and watched as a drop of blood trickled down from the wound. Your body relaxed into her, her arms wrapping around your waist to steady you. “Such a pretty girl when you come for me.”

You blinked slowly, turning your head enough to look at her. She made eye contact with you, bringing her hand up to lightly stroke your cheek. An almost wicked smile played on her lips as she watched your chest rise and fall rapidly. She licked the blood in the corner of her mouth before she spoke. “I’m definitely keeping you…”

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:

J, mafia AU, smut, ring

You know how I like it 😉😘

Mickala!!! 😍😭💖

Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!

Coup d'etat

Rated: E

Words: 999

Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con

“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”

Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.

“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?” 

Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“The bedroom, Eddie?”

“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

*

A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin. 

“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”

Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes. 

“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”

Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.

“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”

The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles. 

“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”

The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.

“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.” 

Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes. 

“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.” 

Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.

“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.” 

Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing. 

“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?” 

“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-” 

Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence. 

“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-” 

“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”  

Eddie blinks. 

“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.” 

Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up. 

“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”

Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings. 

“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut. 

Eddie's smile slips. 

“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.” 

“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?” 

Eddie's mouth twists into a grin. 

“We both know that's how you like it, honey.” 

He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.

“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?” 

“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.” 

Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch. 

“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.” 

“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.” 

Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!” 

“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”

Part 2

More celebration ficlets

[milla-frenchy]

4k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: Joel takes you to Degradation Town Warnings: 18+mdni. CNC. PWP. Assault, gun threat, degradation, size kink, oral (m receiving), boob job, fingering, pussy slapping, face slapping, bondage, unprotected piv, rimming, anal, cum eating a/n : @aurorawritestoescape and I wrote this fic together. How amazing is that, to meet someone who lives in another part of the world, and to write a 4 hands fic. We want to thank our Dark Queen @toxicanonymity for creating an amazing community where Kate and I met 🖤  Love you both 🫶🫶🫶 The fic is named after The Kills album “Keep on your mean side” and the song “Hitched”. ao3

Kate's masterlist | My masterlist

It was a warm day at the beginning of the fall. The breeze was a bit chilly but the sun rays filtering through the canopy of the forest trees didn’t let you get cold. The crunching of dry leaves under your steps made you feel uneasy. You  didn’t want to attract any clickers. Your gaze was on the ground and you were searching for some mushrooms. 

Your thoughts carried you to the time when you would go foraging with your parents, many years ago. It was a hobby back then, not a necessity. You felt a dull pang in your chest. The memory of such a distant past now, as if it happened not in another life but in a completely different dimension, not to you but to a version of yourself. 

Deep in thought you missed another set of steps crunching the fallen leaves. Suddenly you sensed someone else’s gaze on you and was about to turn around ready to take your gun out to protect yourself, but it was too late. Huge arms gripped you from behind squeezing your frame tight and keeping your arms pressed to your body. 

“The fuck?!” you exclaimed and tried to headbutt the man behind you but he swerved your hit. You were fruitlessly wiggling in his steel embrace. 

 “Let m-me go, you fucker!!”

“Shhhh..” the man shushed you, placing his hot palm over your mouth to shut you up. His hand smelt of smoke and along with a loud drum of your heart you felt a tingle between your thighs.

He quickly disarmed you, taking your gun out of your holster and throwing it away into the bushes. The man was huge and strong and you were helpless against him. Yet you couldn’t give in so easily. So you quickly lifted up your foot and stepped down hard on the attacker’s boot. 

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

He winced and pushed you hard on the ground. You fell on all fours, got up to run but he quickly grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back to face him. “Not so fast, little slut!”

You screamed with a pain stinging your eyes, and looked up at him towering over you. The man was in his late fifties. His dark eyes were boring into you under the frowning brows. A gray shirt was strained by his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was wearing jeans and you couldn’t help but glance at his prominent bulge. Was he semi hard? Now you had little doubt about the plans he had for you. 

Your eyes darted from tree to tree trying to see if he was accompanied or alone.

“Where d’ya think you're goin’ like this? You must be fuckin’ stupid to walk in the woods by yourself.”

He was holding your arm tight. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. You tried to reason with him, your voice shaky and small, “I’m not alone. I'm here as a scout, my group is close.”

“It’s cute, but I don’t think so. You’re on my perimeter. The only group here's mine. It’s so deserted around here, it’s been ages since I’ve come across a woman like you.” 

He put his hand on his crotch.

“Like me?”

“On your knees”

“Don’t think so,” you spat out at him. 

He smirked and pulled his gun out from the back of his jeans. 

“On your knees. Don’t wanna repeat.”

"No, wait. I can... we can work it out. Make trades.”

He pointed his gun at you and growled, “Last warning.”

You stared down the barrel contemplating your next move. 

“Fuck…”

He smirked again.

You got on your knees and he undid his belt before letting it fall to the ground. Then he unzipped his jeans, took out his cock, and approached you.

Your eyes widened and he smiled, “Yeah, I know. Now suck.”

“Please. Don’t do this to me.”

He removed the safety of his gun and pointed the barrel at your forehead.

“You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You stopped resisting. He just wanted you to suck him off. Could be worse. You might as well make him cum quickly in your mouth and be rid of it.

You quickly licked the tip of his cock, before placing your lips on it. You had trouble taking it all in your mouth, and you kept your lips only on the tip.

“Damn, you don’t even know how to suck a cock?”

Keeping the gun pointed at your forehead, he grabbed the back of your head with his other hand and held you still, while he thrusted into your mouth with a buck of his hips. He grunted, and keeping his hand against your head, began fucking your mouth at a quick pace.

“Yeah that’s it. Take it. Fuckin’ slut. Not used to sucking big cocks, are ya?”

Tears were beading in the corners of your eyes, you could barely breathe, his cock was hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. Your hands were gripping the jeans on his strong thighs. He stopped abruptly, keeping his cock buried deep in your throat.

“Don’t you dare fucking move.”

You waited, trapped between his grip and his cock. Then he released you and withdrew completely. You coughed and sputtered, holding your sore throat.

He laughed, “I don’t know how you survived this far. Surely not by sucking cocks. Again, now!"

You shook your head but he held you the same way as before, thrusting in and fucking your mouth fast and deep again. He tucked the gun into the back of his pants and grabbed your head with both hands before claiming you even faster and harder. He paused again, staying deep in your mouth, and said, "Good girl."

He pulled away and said: “Maybe you could get better with practice. Too bad I don't have time to find out. You're not worth wasting food on."

Before he could grab his gun, you quickly got up and ran towards the nearest trees, so he couldn't shoot you in the back. But he was fast, and didn't even try to reach for his gun. He ran after you and within seconds he was on your heels. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down.

You plunged down on the ground, dry leaves softening your fall. You tried to crawl away but he straddled your ass. The man was heavy and you felt your hips sink into the soil under you. 

“Get off me! Take all my stuff… Just let me go!” you pleaded but he just laughed. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back.  You cried out and winced at the sensation of his patchy beard scratching your cheek. 

“Stupid slut, ya really think I need your junk?” he growled in your ear and nuzzled your neck. Your  eyes rolled back at the sensation. 

“Your holes are all that you're good for.” 

He turned you over roughly and straddled your hips again. He clasped both of your wrists with one hand and pinned them over your head. He was panting and you saw drops of sweat on his forehead. His odor, an overwhelming mixture of sweat and musk, reached your nostrils. 

You were staring up at him with your eyes widened by fear. His grin was carnal and he was ogling down your body. Then he grabbed the neckline of your tank top and pulled it down in one swift motion, ripping the fabric easily. You cried out feeling the burn on your skin. Your whole chest was exposed to him now, and he quickly grabbed your breasts, squeezed them and then painfully twitched your perked up nipples.  A whine escaped your lips which didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Ain’t I lucky? Got myself a real whore. My men will love your pretty sounds when they’re stuffing your needy cunt.” 

He let go of your hands and you were about to fight when you saw him take out his gun. 

“Let’s start easy,” he said and you felt the cold muzzle pressed to your forehead. 

“Push them together,” he pointed at your breasts with a jerk of his head. 

You followed his order, pressing your tits together. You did not want to get shot. His hand reached behind your neck and he lifted up your upper body. “Make ‘em nice and juicy for me.” He was squeezing your neck tight and you glanced up at him with glossy eyes. 

Then you dropped your head down and spat. It landed on your chest and slid down between your breasts.

“More”, he commanded and gave your head a shake. You gathered more saliva in your mouth and opened your lips to let it dribble out. The man’s gaze followed its path, his eyes blown out, and when it reached your plush breasts he began smearing the liquid over your tits with his thick fingers, gliding them through your cleavage and then rubbing it over your perked up nipples. You whined. 

The man stood up on his knees on both sides of your hips and took out his leaking cock. You were following his every move pushing your breasts together for him to use. 

“Look at you! Waiting to be titty fucked. Bet that’s why you were walkin’ alone in the woods- were waitin’ for a nice big cock to find ya.”

He grabbed you by the neck and quicky pushed his cock between your tits and started fucking them. You were sitting as still as possible, watching him use you for his pleasure, his mouth agape and half lidded eyes devouring the sight of your glistening breasts massaging his cock. 

You were mesmerized by the movements of his tip sliding closer and then further away from your face. 

“Don’t just stare, slut, lick it!” 

Still holding your tits for him, you stuck your tongue out and every time the angry red head approached your face, you kitten-licked its weeping slit. 

You pressed your thighs together looking for some pressure on your pussy. You moaned softly and the man noticed it. Still looking at you with dazed eyes, he smirked.

“What is it, little whore? Your pussy wants attention, huh?”

Having said that, he released your neck and not expecting it you fell back on the ground. 

Pointing the gun at your face he kicked your thighs apart with his knee. “Let’s see her.”

You inhaled sharply, and did what he told you- slid the jeans and panties down your legs exposing yourself to him. He snatched the underwear off your ankles and pressed them to his nose. 

He closed his eyes, breathing in your scent and slowly pumping his throbbing cock. ”Soaked them through, ya dirty girl. Your sloppy cunt really wants my dick.” 

Then he leaned over you with a groan and shoved your panties into your whining mouth. 

“Taste, yourself, slut. Come on. Open your legs. Wider…”

You opened up your thighs and looked up at him. His broad frame covered you from the sun completely, his face close to yours. The taste of your own slick turned you on. 

One second you felt his fingers at your entrance and the next he plunged them into your pussy. The arousal flowing out of you made the intrusion almost painless and you felt so full so fast, your head started spinning. His groan brought you back.  

“Mmm, fuck yeah, so wet. Bet you can soak many cocks right now.” He lowered his head, pulled your panties out of your mouth and grazed his lips over yours, not kissing you yet your heart seemed to stop at that moment. “S’good that I stumbled on ya, little slut. My men will be pleased.”

As fast as he filled you, he pulled his fingers out and sat back on his knees between your thighs. Your pussy clamped around nothing. You felt a cold breeze on your wet folds and wiggled on the ground. 

“Lie still!” the man snapped and slapped your pussy so hard you yelped and started crying. You chewed on your lip trying to control your emotions but all of them drowned you whole and your chest was shaking with sobs. 

The attacker’s dark smile sent chills all over your trembling body. He quickly gave your poor pussy another blow, less painful yet you tried to close your legs. That really angered him. 

“Fuckin’ pain in the ass. Can’t stay still, dumb whore. You’re gonna get it anyway.”

He grabbed your neck with one hand, and you instinctively stood up following his movements, your throat already sore from the way he fucked your mouth.

He dragged you to his backpack and pulled out a rope while maintaining his grip on your neck. You felt all your hairs stand up, and the blood left your face. He pulled you to the nearest tree, against which he pinned you, back to the trunk. He pressed himself to you, straining his hard cock against your naked pussy. He put your hands above your head and tied them to the tree with the rope. He squeezed so hard while tying your wrists that you started sobbing again.

He took a few steps back to look at you, naked from the waist down, your breasts exposed, your top torn in half. Then he took his cock in his hand.

“No…please… I'll do anything"

"Oh, you will", he said, smirking.

He came up, pressed himself against you and spread your legs with his knees, before pushing his cock into your pussy. You cried out, being split open by his huge member. His fingers had prepared you a little but he was so big and girthy you felt a slight burning. He put his hand over your mouth and asked “Really wanna scream and get my men here to ruin your holes?”

You froze looking into his dark hungry eyes.

“So? Fuckin answer me.”

You shook your head.

“That’s better,” he said, removing his hand.

He sped up the thrusting but the position didn't allow him to fuck you as deep as he wanted. So he grabbed your thighs in his hands and put them around his waist, before sliding into you again and bottoming out this time, in one go.

“No! No… please…. I can’t.”

He growled against your ear scratching your cheek with his stubble, picking up the pace. 

“Fuckin slut. Gonna take you back to my camp. My men will enjoy your… fuck… your pussy.”

"No! Please!"

“Oh fuck that’s good. Your cunt is fuckin tight. Fuuuuck…”

He was making you bounce on his cock, holding your thighs so tight against him that he was hitting  your cervix with each stroke.

“How many guys can fuck you before you pass out, huh? Your pussy’d be so full of cum that we’d call you our cumbag, before fucking you again. So long since we fucked a wet hole like yours. Oh fuck…. that’s good.”

He didn’t slow down and still was fucking you just as hard and fast. You couldn’t help but moan as his dick was massaging your g-spot. 

“You have so many holes to fill, dumb slut. It would be a shame to use just one, yeah?” he asked, panting against your ear. “We can fuck your pussy, mouth and ass at the same time. Fuck all your three holes, for hours. What'd ya think of it, bitch?”

Suddenly his hands let go of your thighs and you put your feet back on the ground, your legs weak and shaking after the pounding. “Let’s see your ass, slut,” he murmured and started untying your hands. When your hands were free you almost fell on the ground exhausted but he grasped your hair and pulled you up. 

“Not done with you. Turn around.”

“Please, no,” you begged, your voice quiet and weak but he answered your pleading with a slap on your tear-stained cheek. Your skin burned and not wanting to make him angry again, you followed his command and turned around. He grabbed your hands and pinned them around the tree like you were hugging it, tying them together. 

His finger glided along the scratches on your back and ass, left by the tree bark after his rough fucking and he slapped your ass cheek so hard your breath hitched. A half moan half sob left your lips and you pressed your body to the tree to get further away from your attacker. 

“What are you doing? Please, no… not that.” You begged him with tremors in your voice.

He didn’t answer. You turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on your ass. He spread your cheeks with his hands.

“Damn…,” he said.

He left one of his hands on one of your buttocks to keep spreading them, and brushed your asshole with his fingers. Without lingering on it he glided them down to your pussy and plunged two fingers into you.

“Can’t believe ya’re soaked getting fucked by a stranger who jumped you. You wanted that, huh? Fuckin slut.”

He drew his fingers out, and this time went back up to your asshole. He placed his middle finger on your ring and gently pressed it. Surprisingly gently, considering how violent he had been so far.

That didn’t stop you from panicking. You couldn't take it there. He was too big.

He pressed harder on the ring. The tip of his middle finger prodded inside just a little. He went back to your pussy and collected your wetness again, then returned to your ass, gliding his fingers along your skin on the way. He pressed on your asshole, and this time it gave in more.

You were paralyzed. Restricted by the rope on your hands, by his physical power. By your fear which froze you.

He pressed his body to you, and whispered in your ear, “This one is really tight.”

You swallowed, and wondered if he was really gonna do it. If he was just trying to scare you, or if... and then he pushed his middle finger in further, up to the knuckle. He moved it in and out, but you were so tight around his finger.

He removed it and pressed his cock to your ass. He whispered in your ear, “How am I gonna fit all my cock in it? You should relax if you don’t want it to be too painful.”

You felt him kneel behind you. He spread your ass cheeks with his hands, wide. And spat. You felt saliva flow from the top of the crease of your ass, down to your asshole. He didn't move, as if he was watching it slide.

The moment you felt the liquid reach your ring, he added his tongue to it. He slid it down and spread the saliva around your tense muscle.

And he licked your ass, slowly. He didn’t rush it. His hands were still spreading your buttocks, his mouth not leaving your asshole for a second, working his tongue over it. He pulled back slightly, and licked his middle finger before pressing it against your rear entrance. He went in easily this time. He took it out, and added a second finger. You bit your upper arm. Again he licked your ass. You felt his tongue searching you, his saliva moistening your hole.

“Mmm”, he said.

He got up and you heard him spit into his hand, before applying the saliva to his tip. He grabbed your shoulder with one hand for leverage and pressed his cock against your ring.

You struggled, pulling on the rope.

“Fuck! Stop that, you’re pissin’ me off again.”

You didn’t stop until you heard the click of his gun again. Then you felt the cold metal against your temple and froze.

“I’m gonna fuck your ass. Whether you’re alive, or not. Your choice."

His voice was ice cold.

You closed your eyes and relaxed your muscles as best you could. And you felt him push. Force passage. It seemed like an eternity, and he growled against your ear.

“So…fuckin tight.”

In a second the tip of his cock entered. You gasped from the pain.

He pulled back before pushing again and you cried out.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch” he said, before putting his hand over your mouth and pressing the muzzle to your temple more firmly.

He made back and forth movements, bigger and bigger. Sinking into you a little deeper each time.

“Oh yeah… oh fuck! Oh that ass…. fuck.”

He picked up the pace.

“You know what I want now? I want ya to cum on my cock. My big cock ruining your ass.”

You shook your head. No way you’d give him that. But he slid his hand down to your pussy, pushing you away from the trunk a little. He lingered on your clit, before burying two fingers in your pussy.

“Still dripping.. such a good slut for me.”

He applied the same rhythm to his cock and his fingers. You bit your lip, trying not to give him what he wanted. He felt your holes contracting, his fingers still in your pussy. 

“No… stop it.”

You felt the gun press to your temple again.

“Gimme what I want. I want you to squeeze my cock while you cum.”

You felt your body react to his fingers. The wave was coming. You tried to stop it, but to no avail. Your breathing quickened.

"Oh, yeah. You're gonna be a good girl for me, I can feel it. Fuck, you’re really gonna cum for a man you don’t know, a man who’s assaulting you. What kinda whore does that?”

He kept sliding his thumb over your clit, two fingers in your pussy, his cock in your ass. Your core tightened as you came with a long moan, not being able to hold back any longer. 

“Oh fuck yeah! Squeezing my cock and my fingers. What a slut! Oh fuck!”

The waves of climax shook your body time and time again. you shut your eyes tight feeling your holes clamping around his cock and fingers.

“Fuckin hell, little thing, it’s so tight. Nah, wanna see your face.” He pulled his cock out of your asshole and his fingers left your stretched pussy. He rushed to untie your hands, his cock throbbing and smearing his precum and your juices on your back. 

He roughly turned you around and being absolutely spent you plopped on your knees. The man didn’t mind. His hand grabbed your hair and he held your head up, his glistening tip being just a few inches from your face. 

“Gonna paint your face now. Open wide.” You parted your lips and closed your eyes but he slapped your cheek again. 

“Eyes on the prize, slut!”

You followed his command and looked at his big veiny hand pumping his cock vigorously. It was drenched with your combined fluids and the sounds of squelching and his heavy breathing filled the air around you. He moaned and started coming, shooting thick ropes of cum on your face. You felt them on your cheeks, nose, tongue and lips. In your mind you thanked him for not coming into your eyes. 

He milked the last drop out of his cock and then looked down at you with half lidded eyes. The lips twitched up with a small smile as he observed his work.  

“Oh, look at ya, all filthy, my little slut,” he cooed at you mockingly. “Show me.” He took your chin with his fingers and lifted it up. You opened your mouth wider showing his cum glistening on your tongue. He huffed with a proud look. “Such a good whore for me. Now let’s clean you up.” 

Still holding your face by the chin, he began collecting his spend with his finger and wiping it on your tongue. You felt his salty cum slide down and into your throat. Your eyes teared up but he didn’t let you close your mouth until your face was clean. 

“Swallow,” he said calmly as his hand left your chin. 

Your throat contracted, downing all of his cum and you licked your lips. Then you opened your mouth again, stuck out your tongue, showing him the result and looking up with a teary and adoring gaze. His hand cupped your cheek and he stroked it with his thumb. 

“Thank you, Joel,” you said quietly and he gave you a soft smile. He helped you up and held you close against him, rubbing your body and warming it up. 

“Thought you were gonna use the safe word this time. I got carried away,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m a tough girl,” you whispered, tilting your head up to look at him. He kissed you, gently and lovingly, as your body and soul found comfort in his embrace.

*********

@iamasaddie @multiversed-daydreamer

[lex-the-flex]

I’m Starving, Darling

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Summary: Being stuck together can reveal a whole new series of secrets, leaving the shared experience trapped in chains.

Word Count: 770

Warning(s): 18+ – PURE SMUT, oral sex (f! receiving), body appreciation, slight dirty talk, brief action and violence, and fluff if you squint.

A/N: RE4R is amazing and I’m SWOONING over Leon! Inspired by Hoxier’s new song: Eat Your Young. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

"Sacrificial lamb. You will receive our most sacred body. It begins now."

That haunting vow. The terrifying proclamation was set in stone. Written in the course of some fucked up stars, a pit rose from the bottom of his stomach.

Knowing that the worst was yet to come.

The high pitched static subsided just as Leon jerked his head to the side, waking up in a panic. Gasping for air, his blurry vision straightened while his icy blue eyes adjusted to the dinky lit room. Feeling the pounding rhythm of his heartbeat, his throat remained dry from the beginning signs of dehydration.

Glancing toward the ceiling, the static faded whilst he found his hands chained above his head.

“Oh what the fuck?” Leon whispered to himself.

Pulling his hands down, your hands rose in the air.

“Hey! Cut it out!” You said, turning your attention to Leon.

Standing from your shared position on the ground, the two of you remain face to face.

“Well you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Leon jokes with a smirk.

“Thanks. Are you okay? That big guy practically threw you to kingdom come.” You say, gazing over his form before you.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Promise. You’re not hurt are you?” He asks, stepping closer.

“No, I’m alright.” You reply, looking up at the simple pulley system keeping the two of you trapped.

Observing this with you, a lightbulb went off in Leon’s head, and he knew what to do next. Yanking at your cuffs that we’re keeping your wrists shackled, you tried to loosen the pulley wheel, but it didn’t budge once.

“How the hell are you gonna get out of here?” Leon asks, tugging on his side of the chain.

“I don’t know. You could give me a boost, then maybe we could–“ You start, but are cut off by Leon’s face filling with shock.

“Watch out!” He shouted, pulling you to the side.

Rushing toward the space where you once stood, a Ganado swings his axe in the air, hoping to hit you. Shoving your shoulder at the wooden handle of the axe, the object clatters with the cement flooring, and Leon pulls himself up on the chain before breaking the man’s neck with his boot.

Regaining your balance, your breath hitches in your chest, and Leon hastily paces toward you. Crashing his lips around your own, breathing then became impossible. Letting go of your lower lip with a bite, a gasp escapes your mouth just as he drags his lips down to the bare skin of your neck.

“Oh Leon, what’re you doing? Now’s not the time.” You retaliate, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Removing his lips from your neck, his breath is hot against your face.

“There’s always time, sweetheart. Besides, I’ve always wanted to have you tied up.” He teases, and you swear you saw a pair of red devil horns appear in his blonde hair.

Descending your standing form with feverish kisses, he squats on his knees, pulling the chain with him, so you’re just barely on your toes beneath the pair of combat boots.

Quickly unbuckling the holsters belt clip, his latched wrists undo the button of your black cargo pants before reaching your most comfortable pair of silk panties. Gently pressing his lips to the ticklish skin of your inner thighs, a preemptive moan escaped from your mouth.

“Leon…” You whimpered, in pure pleasure.

Stopping, Leon’s eyes sent a tingle up your spine.

“Ssh, sh. You look good tied up. It’s been driving me crazy.” He praised, gripping your hips in his hands.

Making contact with your clit, he pushed his tongue in between the throbbing bundle of nerves, making your body squirm. Your vision went blurry as you gripped the metal chain keeping your hands in place.

Tightening his grip around the exposed skin of your hips, you knew there would be single bruises there, but you didn’t care. Deepening the kiss around your folds, Leon slid his tongue in your hole, longing for your taste. Your head jerked back and a growl rumbled in Leon’s chest, knowing that he’d get what he wanted.

Taking his time eating you out, your walls began to close around his touch. Your knuckles went white and your body went numb while Leon chased the high of your orgasm. Moaning his name, that was something he never got tired of hearing, knowing that he was all yours. His mouth filled with the taste of you and the moment he’d unlock these chains, he would enjoy every little bit of you before continuing on in this hellish landscape.

re taglist ~

@dreamliners

@iraot

@beautifuljellyfishqueen

@balach-cadalach

@murrdxcks

@fetaneecole

@odaschopsticks

@macabrecakes

@tiredsurvivoronmain

@thecodeisveronica

@andyacklesspn

@kanzukikarin

@cloudybakery

@swimninhoney

@ashiemochi

@kennedysharper

@highball66

@jinlintai

@onewinged-sephiroth

@scariusaquarius

@momma-vi

@cilantro24

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff

@thatdummy-girl

@acupnoodle

@slaughtrx

@rpd-rookie

@oreo-leon

@xxresi-rotxx

@ashrillvenheim

@knifefightandchill

@tradgothprompto

@lottathoughts

@brittlecakes92

@mnjxs

@rebidemp-ebil

@chirikalovesjill

@paleepeaches

@dargoww

@blueyheart

@leonwifey

@arzublogworld

@ec1ips3 

@dreamingchocochan

@mothxmoons

@josieinwonderland

@winksasleeplesseye

@jl-micasea-fics

@thatgoblin

@venchai

[aprettyspy]

@foxsoulcourt I see your James-Bond-in-a-white-shirt action and I raise you:-

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

Apologize

Feyd Rautha x Wife!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, canon-typical violence (knives/blood - READER IS FINE THO), oral, praise, light smut, dirty talk, general filth

Words: 1.5K

Description: Feyd has been busy with meetings. You take matters into your own hands. (Read - Part 2)

“Everyone out!” You order as you walk into the meeting room. The silence was deafening as the military commanders and low level officials glanced furiously between you and your husband.  Feyd had been in constant meetings for the last week. After sleeping alone for the third night, you were determined to get his attention. That morning, you dressed in a sheer gown that left nothing to the imagination. You were hyper aware of the eyes in the room as your nipples pebbled under the cool air of the room.  

“Are you all fucking deaf,” Feyd yelled. “OUT!” Ignoring the protests of the men in the room, your husband stalked towards you. He stopped in front of you, tilting his head as he took in your appearance and brushed a stray lock behind your ear. 

“Girl, leave! We cannot just stop a meeting fo-” Feyd’s advisor raced towards you both. Feyd stopped the smaller man’s advance, wrenching his arm behind his back and forcing him to kneel before you.

“What did you say?” Feyd growled, sliding a knife from his thigh holster. “Repeat it.”

“I meant no offense,” the advisor pleaded. “This is ju-”

“No. That’s not it. I want you to look my wife in the eyes and repeat what you said.”

“na-Baron, please! I was out of turn! I apologize, I wo-”

“Why are you speaking to me,” Feyd was deadly calm. “Beg my wife’s forgiveness and I might let you live.” Feyd slid his knife to the advisors throat, blood beading where it met his throat.

You could see the sweat dripping down the advisor’s temple and tears welling in his eyes as he looked up at you. “Please my lady, I made a mistake. I didn’t mean it. Forgive me!” You hummed, looking away from the advisor to gently kiss Feyd.

“What do you think, my love? Should I forgive him?” You ask.

Feyd retracts the knife from his throat, standing back up to his full height. “Why don’t you show my wife how grateful you really are?”

“Yes na-Baron,” the advisor said, grabbing at his throat to feel the damage. “Anything.”

“Kiss her feet.”

You give Feyd a bewildered look, raising a brow in question. His expression broke out into a wolfish grin for a split second, and he gave you a quick wink. The advisor stumbled to comply, lowering himself to the floor to kiss your feet. You struggled not to laugh as you saw the horrified faces of the remaining advisors and officials in the room.

“Enough.” Feyd said as he pulled the advisor from the floor to stand in front of you. “What do you say?”

“Thank you my lady, I-” his groveling was cut off as Feyd slit the advisor’s throat, and tossed his body to the side. You don’t flinch as the blood sprays across your gown. The advisor never had a chance of leaving the room alive. Feyd wiped his blade clean on his thigh before turning to the advisors who were foolish enough to stay for the show. 

“Would anyone else like to voice their opinion? Or would you all like to get out before my bloodthirsty little wife asks for your head on a pike?” Feyd sheathes the knife, backing you into the wall with a fierce kiss. “Gods, you’re beautiful like this.” He breathes out as he breaks the kiss. You moan as Feyd lowers his head to kiss across the swell of your breasts and lick the splattered blood from your skin.

Gripping the back of his neck, you arch into his touch. “Please Feyd, need you.” Your husband laughs as he retreats from your breasts and stands to his full height. Your breath hitches as his hand clasps around your throat, pushing you back into the wall.

“Now darling, no need to act out. Next time you need me to take care of that filthy pussy, just say something.” Feyd purrs into your ear. His hand tightens around your throat you gasp, eyes rolling back at the firm pressure.

Your hands trail down from his chest, hooking your thumb under his waistband to pull his hips flush to yours. “Where would be the fun in that, my love?” you murmur. “I think you need to talk less an-” Feyd cuts you off with a kiss, his lips pressing roughly into yours, teeth clashing. Feyd was never a gentle man, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You moan into the kiss, straining against the hand on your throat to deepen in.

Pulling back, Feyd grins wickedly. “I think my darling girl needs put in her place. Maybe then she won’t feel the need to try and embarrass me in public.” A devilish smirk plays across Feyd’s lips, and he falls to his knees before you. You glance around to make sure everyone has gone, but any objections you have evaporate as he lays a swift smack on your ass. 

“If this is the treatment I get for misbehaving, I just might interrupt you more often.” You tease. Feyd’s hands trail up your thighs, sliding your dress up.

“No panties?” Feyd teases, brushing his fingers across your pussy. “It’s almost like you want me to take you right here, in this room for all of my advisors to see.” You moan, grinding down into his hand to get more friction. “My darling girl would love that, wouldn’t she?” When you don’t respond, Feyd delivers another light smack on your ass. “Answer me.”

“Yes!” You gasp. 

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir!”

Feyd grins and rewards you with a bite to your inner thigh as he hooks your leg over his shoulder. Your dress is hitched up by your waist, exposing your pussy to the cool air. Feyd groans at the sight. “Fuck that’s my darling girl, dripping and ready for me at all times.”  He swipes his tongue across your cunt, moaning at the taste of you. “Should I call my advisors back in and take care of my needy girl? Fuck you in front of them and show them who you belong to?”

“Please,” you whine. “Please, anything. I need you.” You grind your hips down into his face as he dives back in. Feyd slides two fingers into your cunt, fucking you with them slowly as he sucks at your clit. You moan, grasping at your dress to hold it up with one hand. You place the other on the back of Feyd’s head, attempting to guide him as he eats you out. 

Feyd bats your hand away and pulls back as he huffs out a laugh. “No, I don’t think I will. I would kill any man who dares see you like this.” He continues fucking you with his fingers as he shrugs your leg off his shoulder and stands up. Feyd steals a kiss, before pressing his forehead to yours. “I would take their eyes and give them to you as an anniversary present.” 

“Feyd, please,” you beg. “Enough of this, please fuck me.”

He ignores you, fucking his fingers into you at a faster pace as he sucks your nipple through the fabric of your gown. You moan as Feyd bites lightly at your nipple, laving his tongue over it to soothe the pain. Whining, you reach down to rub your neglected clit. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Feyd growls. “Go on, take what you need.” He continues to fuck his fingers into you, angling them forward to hit your most sensitive spot.

Your breath hitches and you moan as Feyd begins matching his thrusts with the pace of  your fingers against your clit. He switches to torment your other nipple, whispering filthy praises to you whenever he comes up for air. “Come on darling, so good for me. I can feel you clenching around my fingers.” 

“I’m close-” You whine, arching into his mouth.

“Do it, come for me. I can feel you dripping down my hand. Just a little more darling, come on, make a mess for me.” You moan, your head jerking back as you quicken your pace on your clit. You’re right at the edge. 

As if sensing that you need one final push, Feyd bites at your breast harshly. You cry out as you climax, Feyd fucking you through it. “There you go, right there. Good fucking girl, that’s my darling girl.” You whine in overstimulation, pushing at your husband’s shoulders. 

Feyd gently slides his fingers from you, popping them in his mouth to suck them clean. You grip at his robes, pulling him in for a kiss. Feyd grips your waist, holding you steady as he moans into the kiss. You bite his lip gently, swiping your tongue over it to soothe the ache. “My love,” you murmur, pulling away for air, “let me take care of you.” You reach for his pants to undress him, but he stops you.

“Not here,” Feyd shakes his head. “I plan to make up for a week without you.” He picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder and planting a spank across your ass. “I will take you on every surface of our rooms. We aren’t leaving until I fuck an heir into you.”

Note: This was inspired by a lovely little request. Also, I'm not responsible for your media consumption, but if any of you silly goofy geese would like a part two....ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS ASK. <3 - Lacie

[twola]

Went a bit more existential with this one.

Holy

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

You’re beautiful there, spread out on his cot.

Of course, he thinks you’re beautiful everywhere - in the light of the morning sipping coffee; in the golden afternoon as you’re sneaking treats to his horse. In the sparkle of nightfall, where the stars and campfire dance in your eyes.

But here, here, is where he thinks you’re most beautiful. Utterly bare and chest heaving in his cot, the low light of the lantern illuminating the curves and divots in your skin. You’re beautiful here, in the midnight hours, completely his.

Your sweat-dotted skin and tousled hair, pebbled nipples and the dewy sheen of wetness that he can see on the dark hair that shrouds your cunt.

You are the most beautiful, holy thing he’s ever seen as you open your legs farther, smiling up at him as he leans above you, stroking his needy cock as he situates his knees on the sides of your thighs.

If he believed in prayer he would say one in this moment, guiding himself to you.

He presses the weeping head of his flesh against the petal like skin of your folds, rubbing through them as your breath hitches. He collects your arousal on himself, breathing through his nose as his hand grips the base of himself.

A breathy gasp from your lips reaches his ear as he presses the head of his cock through the rim of your cunt.

He cannot help but to watch how your teeth sink into your lower lip, your eyes squeezing shut as he splits you, as he parts you and his flesh enters you.

You whimper as he continues his journey forward.

Another inch.

If there was a god, he must not be but too pissed with Arthur - not with the way he’s feeling now, not with the way the vice of your cunt feels on the head of his cock - wet and warm and so goddamn tight.

Another inch.

Your eyes flutter open as you grow used to his intrusion, and he swears you bat your eyelashes I almost a coquettish manner up at him. Christ, the power you have over him when he’s inside you - you could demand of him anything and by God’s sake, he would do it for you.

Another flighty breath escapes your lips and he cannot help it anymore. He is but a simple, sinful man, and he snaps his hips forward to completely sheath himself within your cunt. Your eyes widen and you whimper again at the movement.

The curls of the hair at the base of his shaft press against your clit, making you shiver, his pelvis flush against yours.

He’s spread out atop you, all twitching muscles and weather-beaten skin. You’re small beneath him, sunken down in the cot with your legs spread wide ‘round his hips.

Your breath comes out in a gasp as he settles himself over you, one elbow keeping the bulk of his weight off of your frame.

He stays still, his flesh within yours, reverent at the intimacy of it all. That you would allow, nay, want him in such a way. That you would choose a man like him to bury himself inside your body. That you would choose him, of all men, to touch you and feel you and climb inside the most special part of you.

The wet warmth of your core makes him shudder, succumbing to the feeling and shutting his eyes as he lays upon you, burrowing his forehead into the curve of your neck. Your arms wind around his neck, your slender fingers gently twining through the short ends of his hair.

His chapped lips press against your neck as a contented sigh escapes you. God, he could stay here forever, draped over your supple frame, all of him holstered inside you - warm and tight and wanted.

“Arthur…”

He grunts softly as he presses up on his elbow, hovering above you to catch your gaze.

The flush in your cheeks is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Your lips spread into an infectious smile that he cannot help but to return.

He swears, for all of the sinning he has done, and continues to do, that some heavenly deity has extended some kind of mercy upon him. For here, tangled up in each other, sheathed so sweetly inside you, this is the closest to heaven that a man like him could hope to get to.

[fanaticsnail]

The Apprentice - Part 2

Ok, ok, ok. The Mihawk mind-rot got to me. I will absolutely be making another part. I really enjoy this dynamic and honestly, any excuse to bring out my wide range of wine collection to enjoy while I write.

Warnings: blood, cursing, nudity (no graphic smut, but suggestive themes: minors beware).

Part 1 here.

Word Count: 4,455

“You’re wrong,” the disinterested voice carried over as grunts and echoes of combat reverberated among the tavern walls. Unsure as to how the fight first broke out within the polished walls and at such intensity as it was; you were thrown amongst the flurry to ‘rid the pestilence from presenting their grotesque stature and cleanse the grounds before your lord’ as your mentor so eloquently put it.

You utilised your leg to thrust upwards and capture the jaw of one of the brutes challenging you, while twisting your body around mid-kick and throwing a bar stool at one of the men approaching Mihawk, who had yet to lift a finger to defend himself.

To say things hadn’t changed between you would not be a complete and utter lie. Although neither of you spoke on your former passionate exchange with one another from three weeks ago, you noticed your mentor would choose his words more wisely with you; as such was his negotiation at continuing your apprenticeship. However, you had noticed he was more careful with you in your training; not pushing you further to reach beyond your physical limitations and not entertaining you by prodding you with insults. You had also noticed he had not been seeking out nor actively engaging in whoring his body out from port to port, causing him to remain slightly more on edge.

You missed it, truly: the bickering, the hatred, the intensity. In its place, you now found rocky and unsure waters that were yet to be tested but always crashing against the coastal shore between you both; building its choppy intensity the further you avoided speaking about the kiss.

As to completely dance around the subject matter while continuing your training, you both pulled yourselves to the one thing that brought about your mutual enjoyment: wine.

“How am I wrong, my lord?” you asked him, reaching into your thigh holster and retrieving three throwing knives and releasing them from your hand; pinning a victim to the wall by their shirt sleeves.

He released a groan in disinterest and turned to the bar and reached his hand below it to bring up a freshly decantated bottle of wine he ordered prior to combat ensuing. He began reaching for a glass to empty the liquid into to drink from it, only to find the glass shattering within his fingertips as one of your blades flew at it. He snapped his gaze at you with a deep frown, only to meet with your own smirk before you turned to rid another incoming brute from their ability to breathe by plunging your sword up into their jaw.

“Why would you ever think shattering my wine glass be a good idea, Apprentice?” he scolded you with his intense, hawk-like yellow eyes.

“To get a rise out of you,” you smirked at your thoughts, choosing to grace him with your vocal response: “because you were about to pour yourself a glass. And that-,”

Your words became halted as you withdrew your blade from within the cranium of your prior victim, turning to slash at the final remaining pirate of the crew that engaged you; cutting him from shoulder to bladder in one fell swipe, “-is my job,” you added, sheathing your blade within your scabbard.

You sauntered over to the bar, stepping around the various fallen bodies that lay in pools of their own blood. Moving your fingertips to the neck of the decanter, you contained the subtle hitch in your breath to the best of your abilities as your fingertips grazed your mentor’s as you took the crystal object into your grasp. You craned your neck over the bar and located a fresh wine glass and set its base to rest against the felt material, rising the lip of the vessel to bring the crimson liquid to meet and pool at the bottom of the chalice.

You placed your index and middle finger at the base of the glass, setting aside the decanter while swirling the liquid in the glass against the bar.

Bringing the crystal glass upwards, you turned to your mentor and made to grant the glass within his outstretched and awaiting hand. You presented the glass to him, narrowing your eyes at him as he narrowed his own at yours.

Refusing to be the one to shy away from the gaze first, you were surprised as the mighty Dracule Mihawk relented in his visual challenge of you to turn his sights to the crimson liquid within the glass and swirling it to release more of the bouquet.

He brought the wine up towards his nose and inhaled the liquid first before brining his moustache-clad lips and tongue up to the glass and taking a small sip. He chirped the liquid within his lips as he inhaled a whistle through his partly puckered mouth, savouring the flavour.

“This is meant to be a Malbec,” he snarled, “why does it taste like Petit Verdot?”

You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes, gesturing out to take the glass from between his fingers and sip from the contents; raising the chalice mouth to your lips and sipping a small amount to roll over your tongue.

“Because it’s both, my lord,” you rolled your eyes and crossed your unoccupied arm over your waist and leant your back against the bar to recline your shoulders against it. You rose the glass again to your lips before passing the half-drunken vessel back to its rightful owner.

“It’s a classic Bordeaux. I can taste Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc in here too,” you shrugged and fluttered your eyelashes at him.

Mihawk growled and turned to face the tavern keeper, who was cowering behind the bar and covering his head with his arms to make himself as small as possible.

“You said this was a Malbec,” he roared at the cowering man, “and you give me a Bordeaux?”

You looked down and shook your head, a small smirk pulling at your lips at his animosity. He placed the glass against the bar with a small huff of his shoulders, and rolled his neck back to release a small crack from behind it.

“If you are that desperate for a Malbec, my lord,” you raised your eyebrow in suggestion, “I did see a tour advertised in the next town over.”

He brought his yellow hued eyes to meet with yours once more, intrigue pulling at his face.

“We could pick up a couple dozen,” you shrugged your shoulders, “and then I can put them with the other mid-range varietals when I completely reorganise your cellar to intensities rather than alphabetised varietals.”

“You see, Apprentice,” he engaged you, and at long last reaching out his right arm for you to take, “that is where you are wrong.”

“Oh?” you asked with a quirk of your brow, lacing your left arm within his own and allowing him to escort you out of the completely ransacked tavern.

“I like knowing I have the Malbec with the Merlot,” he continued, “and the Syrah with the Shiraz.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed under your breath at his comment.

“The Malbec and the Merlot can stay, as will the Syrah and the Shiraz,” you continued, “but I refuse to place the Cognac with the Champagne. That’s illegal.”

He sniffed out a small snicker at your comment, looking down with smiling eyes; hoping you didn’t catch his affectionate gaze.

“You put your sparkling’s with your apéritifs, your white varietals building in intensity: the chardonnays near the rose,” you listed off while nodding your head, gesturing with your right hand the exact floor plan of Mihawk’s cellar on Kuraigana Island.

He trailed his eyes over your blood-spattered face, noticing how your hair lay slightly different than the day before as he zoned your words out as you spoke them.

“-What possessed you to put all of the Pinots in the same place. Honestly,” his attention immediately snapped back at your words as you made your way to the inn you were staying in, “for someone with such disdain for Pinot Noir, you sure keep a fair few.”

“What did you say, Apprentice?” he quirked at you, eyes narrowing at your former words spoken.

“Pinot Noir, my lord,” you reiterated, “does not belong next to Pinot Gris or Pinot Grigio. You can keep it next to the Pinot Meunier, but you must let me rearrange the cellar.”

He sighed before reaching into his long jacket pocket, retrieving an embroidered pocket square from within and wordlessly passing it to you with a roll of his eyes.

“What is this for, my lord?” you asked him, clasping your hand around the material; hand meeting the fingers of one of the warlords of the sea.

“Your face,” he uttered disinterestedly, “you made a mess. You know how I despise mess.”

Bringing your sights to one of the windows of a shop front, you had indeed manage to collect a fair amount of the dark, metallic substance over your face and neck in the thralls of your ferocity. You growled as you began swiping at your skin to rid it of the blood atop it, groaning as much of the liquid had congealed and solidified against your skin; making it next to impossible to clear it from your face without soap and water.

You clutched the material and unfolded it, absentmindedly tracing your fingertips around the golden “D” and “M” as you refolded the soiled material and placed it in your side satchel.

No comment was made about the noises that had been released in frustration. It could be said that you missed his banter a little, but as you had got what you wanted; you negated your thoughts and chose to say nothing about it.

As the both of you continued to walk toe in toe with one another, you passed a large arched entranceway to a sandstone building; bamboo trees and fine bleached coarse pebbles lining the pathway towards the open entrance of the building. Your eyes widened and mouth drew up into a smile as you read the sign beside the archway.

“An onsen,” you gasped, turning your attention back to Mihawk. He halted his movements and craned his head to look at you with complete and utter disregard.

“No,” he uttered, turning back around and continuing to make his journey onwards,

“Oh, please, my lord,” you almost begged, “I’m desperate to submerge myself in deep waters to relax.”

Stretching your arms to arch above your head, you almost felt the calming of your overused muscles as the scents of perfumed bathwater drew its way to your nose; solidifying your resolve.

“There’s bathwater at the inn. We can’t waste valuable wine-tasting hours on something as time consuming as a bath house,” he called over his shoulder, “come, Apprentice.”

Your body froze, a reactionary response to the final words he spoke to you over your shoulder; thighs clenching slightly together as a rosy blush found its way to your face.

Not one step was made from your body as you drew your arms back down from its extension as you laced them together to circle your front and tapped your foot against the pavement. Mihawk, too, halted his movements and clicked his neck to the side to release the knot-riddled tension within his shoulders. You smirked at him, reading the fine print on the side of the building.

You hardened your resolve, approaching your master as you laced your hands around the crook of his left arm and brought your lips up to his ear.

“They have an on-sight masseuse,” you purred into his ear, whispering suggestively, “could relieve some of the tension in your neck.”

Yellow, hawk-like eyes snapped to meet yours as he angled his refined jaw down to gaze into your blood-spattered face. His lips curled up into almost a snarl before he exhaled a sigh, relenting to your insistence.

“Fine,” he groaned, turning back towards the archway of the onsen and bringing his right hand to rest atop your laced fingertips around his left arm to keep you against him. You hadn’t walked in such proximity like this since you relinquished your resignation request, enjoying the closeness between you and your mentor.

Your heels began grinding the pebbled floor beneath your weight, more so Mihawk’s as his mighty blade Yoru lay equipped against his back. A giddy sensation rose in your chest as you walked past the entrance and found the front desk, manned by a fishman.

“Weapons are to remain as checked items at the front desk,” he addressed you, prompting you to eagerly part with your blade as it hung loosely at your side. Mihawk looked at your overzealous removal of your several compartments of weapons with disapproval as he, too, reached his hand behind his back and withdrew Yoru from its scabbard; placing it atop the counter.

Reaching down and unclasping your thigh hilt, you felt the watchful eyes of your mentor bare into you as you fiddled with the buckle. After unequipping yourself of your weapons, you huffed out your breath in excitement as a broad smile fell over your face.

“If that will be all your arms,” the fishman smiled, gesturing to the entranceway of the side room, “welcome to our onsen.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said with a polite nod of your head.

“You may disrobe in the changing room,” he gestured to another section of the front desk, “towels and bathrobes are available on the hooks in the ensuite. Please place any used objects in the baskets at the front before you leave.”

Your gaze turned to the side counter, noticing a taped-off area.

“Ah,” the fishman followed your gaze, “yes. Unfortunately we are undergoing some renovations in the men’s area. The women’s bath is also currently occupied by an elderly rehabilitation group using the healing waters to rid their joints of arthric pain.”

Mihawk tensed his shoulders and inhaled an agitated breath through his nose.

“We currently have the cool plunge, showers, and mixed communal bath available,” he continued, “and we also have a masseuse in the hammam should you desire their services.”

Your mentor made to reequip himself of his mighty blade, only to have his actions halted as you pressed a hand against his chest while addressing the fishman once again.

“Thank you, sir,” you spoke, “do you have any baskets we could use to store our clothing? My mentor,” you turned your sites towards Mihawk and narrowed your eyes at him, “is in desperate need for the hammam and I,” you turned your warm gaze back to the front desk, “honestly can’t wait to utilise the waters.”

You felt a low rumble-like growl form within the chest of your mentor as your hand lay flush against it, relishing in the fury you had managed to pull from your boss. You missed this.

“There are several lockers you can use to place your clothing within,” he nodded with a smile.

You thanked him and relaced your arms within your mentor’s and practically dragged him into the changing room.

“Halt your enthusiasm, apprentice,” he uttered out an order to you, “we won’t be staying for long. Hot shower, cold plunge and a quick dip: Malbec awaits.”

You laughed at his command and shook your head at him as you began to disrobe and place your clothes in a neat pile within one of the cubical booths of the onsen room. As you stripped to your undergarments, you clasped one of the bathrobes provided and wrapped it around your shoulders before removing the final two items of clothing.

Sighing in relief, you placed your arms within the sleeves of the bathrobe and laced the material around the front of you, turning around to see the muscular bare back of your mentor as he brought his own robe up and over his shoulders. A small blush rose itself once again to your cheeks as you turned your head to look at the artwork on the walls in front of you.

After tying his bath robe, he turned to face you; noticing your eyeline focussing on a painting of a large cherry blossom tree.

“Shall we, then?” he uttered disinterestedly, eyes trailing over your robe-wrapped form as you turned to face him.

“Thank you, my lord,” you said with a nod of respect.

“For what now, Apprentice?” he rolled his eyes and made to open the doors of the communal bath.

“For allowing me this privilege, sir,” you said, trailing behind him as he brought his hands up to the sliding double doors. He halted his gaze and arched his head back around to face you.

“Just this once, Apprentice,” he warned you, narrowing his eyes. A small smile almost broke through his lips as he watched you beam with giddy anticipation.

He slid the doors open to reveal a beautifully maintained garden with several varieties of cropped trees, rock garden and layers of naturally occurring waterfalls cascade the area. The smile that was so beautifully almost breaking through his sinister gaze all but fell completely from his face at the next words spoken.

“Hawk-Eyes, you old gloomy prick!” a voice called, prompting you to bring your sites to rest on one of the many men within the bath waters, “what are the odds?”

The gentlemen that so unceremoniously addressed your mentor had a large smile on his face, three scars over his left eye and a mess of currently damp red hair. Several other men around him were also adorning battle scars, carefree attitudes and broad smiles on their faces.

“Absolutely not,” your mentor spoke, turning back towards the double doors.

“Who’s that you got with you?” the man spoke again, looking to you and threw you a small wink.

You furrowed your brows at his attention and allowed a small scowl to pull over your face. Narrowing your eyes at him, you turned to your mentor and placed your hand on his retreating wrist to halt him in place; prompting him to glare at you with his intense yellow eyes.

“Sir,” you addressed the redhead in front of you.

“Miss,” he taunted you with a slight smirk. You inhaled a sharp breath at his mocking tone before releasing Mihawk’s wrist from its place collected in your grasp.

You sighed out an angry breath, “I have had a particularly long day and I was so looking forward to a relaxing bath. If it be all the same to you, I would prefer it if you withheld your taunts from bringing them against my mentor.”

Turning back to face your boss, you grit your teeth and whispered at him; “Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah and Malbec. And I’ll leave the cellar alphabetised, even though it’s impractical.”

He allowed a small growl to escape his lips before he rolled his eyes at your negotiation and brought his rebuttal against you with a smirk; “and we only remain here for a shower and a cold plunge. Absolutely no talking with Shanks or his sorry excuse for a crew.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you watched his gaze soften at you, nodding his chin over to the showerheads lining the wall behind a bamboo screen; “go rinse your face. You still have a small amount of blood on your cheek.”

“Oh, and you despise mess, my lord,” you taunted him with a smirk.

“Watch your tone, Apprentice,” he warned you with a low growl, prompting you to smile and release him from your grip and make to the showers with towel in hand.

--

“She’s a bit of a feisty one,” Shanks called to Mihawk with a chuckle, as the yellow-eyed man made his way over to the baths, “bet she keeps you young.”

“And what is that meant to mean, you drunken idiot?” he spat at his old associate with venomousity.

Shanks raised his single right hand defensively with a teasing smile.

“I meant no disrespect,” he said with a small shake of his head, “who you choose to warm your bed is no business of my own. You sure know how to choose them, though. She’s stunning-.”

“She’s my apprentice,” he hissed at the redhead as he disrobed and hung the large object on a hook on the sandstone wall.

Wolf-whistles and hollers were called from the Red-Hair Pirates at that comment, prompting Mihawk to harden his stare.

“Is that how it is, then?” Shanks laughed at Mihawk.

The warlord made his way to join the Red-Hair pirates within the warm waters of the onsen and audibly sighed as the heat penetrated his aching muscles. He dipped his raven hair below the waters and allowed the water to begin healing his body of their pent up afflictions.

He then released a groan as he turned to see the large grin on the red-headed captain who brought himself next to him.

“How is it going then, the training,” he asked with interest, his eyes playfully twinkling behind his brown eyes, “sword user, then?”

“She has a great many talents,” he uttered with complete disinterest at continuing the conversation, “but swords and knives are her greatest strengths.”

Shanks hummed in response, nodding in deep thought while scratching his stubbled chin with his right hand.

“Are you planning on going for a drink after this?” he asked curiously, “my men and I could use a couple of brews.”

Mihawk released a small exasperated sigh, “I will not have your carefree crew undo all of my hard work I have drilled into my apprentice.”

Shanks laughed and tossed his head back before stifling his laughter, teetering it off into a low chuckle.

“If you wanted to be alone with her, you should just say so,” he teased him with a playful punch against Mihawk’s shoulder.

--

After a brisk shower, you readorned yourself with the robe provided and walked away from the screen and back into the view of your mentor and his former associates.

Before you could take a step towards the onsen bath, your mentor rose a hand to halt your movements before pointing to the small pool at the side of the bath.

“Cold plunge,” he ordered monotonously, “then back to the inn.”

You narrowed your eyes and a snarl pulled its way at the lefthand corner of your upper lip.

“Oh, lighten up,” the redhead spoke up with a laugh, “disregard that, love. Come and join us!”

The motley crew of pirates all cheered at the aspect of you joining them within the warm waters, and the desire you had was also prominent. However, not one step was made in either direction as you kept your gaze locked on your mentor to await his new command or dismissal of his prior order.

Mihawk huffed a sigh and narrowed his yellow-eyes at you before he again addressed you.

“Cold plunge,” he again reiterated, “then five minutes in the onsen.”

“Ten,” you smirked your rebuttal at him and rose your left eyebrow upwards.

“Eight,” he reiterated, “and you have to do the cold plunge twice.”

You laughed as you disrobed to bare yourself completely before the assortment of pirates and your current boss. Both you and Mihawk regularly would change in front of one another to equip yourselves ready for battle, not really caring if one glance was shared between you or not. Of late, however, the intensity of the rising tension between you had those looks trailing between you last longer than the average glance.

Not ashamed of your body in the slightest, you turned to retreat to the many hooks lining the sandstone wall and began to place your towel on the bench below. You moved to place the robe on the hook beside your mentor’s own robe and began psyching yourself up to jump into the icy depths of the cold plunge.

You made it to the ledge of the small, circular pool and arched your shoulders back and rolled your head. After releasing a small shaky breath, you brought your right foot outwards and sprung your left foot upwards, falling towards the dark and deep cool water.

Your body became overwhelmed at the icy waters as you plunged into the deep waters. You kicked your legs and resurfaced, gasping in a large breath as you did so. Your feet found the ladder and you hoisted yourself above the water with ease, shaking slightly under the cold as you made your way toward the shallows of the onsen as you gracefully made your descent.

Although the bathwater was a warm 37C, you felt every inch burning into you as the ice-water from the cold-plunge rewrote your internal body temperature. As you sat against one of the many walls of the onsen, you reclined your head to rest against the ledge, closing your eyes and sighing as the warmth overcame you.

“I’m Shanks,” you heard a voice address you. You cracked open your right eye and glanced at him before promptly shutting your eyes once again.

“And I’ve been forbidden from entertaining this conversation,” you smirked and scrunched up your nose.

“Really, Mihawk?” the redhead called, prompting a wide smile to bring itself on your face as your view remained obstructed by your closed eyelids, “you banned me?”

“That I did,” your boss said offhandedly, “and you’ve only got four minutes remaining, Apprentice.”

You groaned as you arched your shoulders, relishing in the warm, scented waters as they worked at your relaxing your muscles.

“And why would he ban me, I wonder,” the voice cooed at you with a slight taunt.

“Although curious myself,” you sighed, “again, you’re contraband. No talking.”

Shanks laughed at your dismissal of him before resting his body beside yours and relishing in the glare that was baring into him at his proximity.

“Then we won’t talk,” he smirked before turning his head and whispered in your ear; “nod or shake your head. Are you sweet on your boss?”

Your jaw fell slack in shock as you opened your eyes to look at the playful features of the redhead beside you. You made to reprimand him vocally for his suggestion, halting as you turned to meet the gaze of Mihawk.

Trailing your eyes over his raven hair before flittering your gaze down to his finely maintained facial hair, pulling your sights down to the lips that so roughly engaged you earlier in the month.

“Nod or shake,” Shanks uttered in a voice below a whisper. Almost invisible to the untrained eye, a subtle nod was all the confirmation required for the redhead to sigh out a laugh.

“Good girl,” he praised you in a low tone before whispering, “now let’s make him angry.”

Part 3

[gtgbabie0]

hiii! can request re2!leon(raccoon city events do not happen bcus😭) with an s/o who practically drools over him in his police uniform (i would acc do this is i was his partner😘)

Ahh! You’re so right babe! Hope you enjoy lovelies!! 💕

-Leon Kennedy x reader

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It’s really early, too early, some would argue. It doesn’t seem very fair that Leon has to get up at ungodly hours of the morning to spend all day with Kevin on patrol, and with it being a Friday you knew tonight was going to be rough, with partygoers and rebellious teens.

It’s even more unfair that you wake up to him getting ready, sitting on the end of the bed, shirtless, as he finishes putting his socks on. You study his back, the muscles that tense and move with his actions.

You shuffle closer to him, arms encircling his torso as you press your cheek against his warm skin. “Morning baby, did I wake you up?” He asks, tone hushed.

You shake your head. “Mm, don't mind, it’s a good view to wake up to” you smile, pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, breath hitching ever so slightly as your lips trail up to his neck, peppering kisses to the underside of his jaw, as you hum a small ‘Yeah’

Leon, much to your dismay, moves away from your touch. Standing up as he claims he 'has to get ready'.

You watch him as he slips his shirt on, eyes trailing down to his work pants, the gun holster that sits around his thigh. “Sweetheart? Could you get my vest?” He asks, with a teasing smile. He knows it’s your favourite part.

You nod, grabbing his R.P.D vest before walking over to him. You undo the velcro helping him put it on before doing it back up again, “It’s not too tight?” You smile hands smoothing over his chest.

“No, it’s alright” his hands rest against your hips as you inch closer to him. You lean to press kisses along his jaw as his hands smooth over to your lower back. “Baby I’ve got work” he whispers despite not making the effort to move away.

“Just call in sick,” you tell him, a hopeful gleam in your eyes. He kisses you, his nose bumping yours gently as he does.

“I did that last week.” He murmurs against your lips, forehead resting against yours, “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight” he swears, tucking your hair behind your ear, fingers grazing against your cheek.

“I’ll hold you to that” you giggle, helping him get his work stuff ready although Leon wouldn’t really call it helpful with your hands all over him, that teasing smile that adorns your lips, he definitely couldn't wait until he got back from work.

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[notyetneedcoffee]

Strut

Kinktober - Leather Kink NSFW - Adults Only

Summary: Something about the way he struts

The transport lowered to the tarmac, rear ramp lowering immediately. You paused your work logging the inventory of the emergency equipment stacked at the far side of the hanger to catch sight of the team coming home. Mainly you wanted to see your man home safe and sound.

Steve and Natasha strolled down the ramp deep in conversation. Sam came out next, arguing with someone behind him. So far they all looked healthy. Then Becky immerse and your breath hitched.

He strode down the ramp with long purposeful steps. His fists were clenched. You drank in the delicious sight of him clad head to toe in leather. Heavy boots. Straps of harnesses filled with weapons and tools of destruction. Tight leather jacket. The only thing bared from the neck down was the gleaming metal of his arm.

“Fuck me.” You muttered to yourself. He looked sexy as hell.

Almost as if he heard you, Bucky’s eyes locked on you. He changed direction straight toward you. Your pulse kicked up. Excitement filled you. Some hind-brain fear made you feel like prey as he stalked toward you. Stalked. That fucking strut.

He came close, saying low. “Follow me.”

You did. He led you out of the hanger, down the hall and to one of storage rooms. He slapped his palm over the electric lock and practically pushed you inside. The second the door closed, Bucky’s hand grabbed you by the back of head and he kissed you hard and brutally.

Your fingers wrapped around the straps of his shoulder harness, pulling him closer. He only pulled back once your lips were wet and swollen.

“Miss me?” You breathed.

“Don’t wanna talk about it now.” He pulled you tight against him. “Just need to feel you. To see you.”

You didn’t question, just pulled your top and sports bra over your head. Bucky reached for the buckles of his gear, but your hand stopped him. “No. Leave it on.”

Kicking off your shoes, you stripped out of the rest of your clothes just as fast. Bucky panted, staring at you hard as you dropped to your knees before him. Unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants enough to free his hard cock.

You looked up into his blue eyes as you licked him from base to tip. Watched his mouth drop open and his tongue run over his lip as you tasted him. As you swallowed him deep, Bucky moaned. His fingers slipped through your hair to hold your head. He didn’t force you, but you knew it was a battle for him.

“Com’here.” Bucky pulled you up and turned your back to the wall. His slid over your body. He slipped his fingers into your cunt, spreading your wetness, and grinning wickedly at your moan. “You been a good girl while I’ve been gone?”

“Mmm-hmm.” You squirmed, hands roaming over his gear and trying to pull him closer. He leaned forward to nip and kiss your neck. Your nipples scraped along the rough straps and leather of his gear, making you moan harder. He smelled of Bucky, sweat, leather and gun powder. You rocked your sex into his hand harder.

You reached down to grip him once again. You needed him.

Bucky plunged his tongue into your mouth, kissing your deep, before moaning. “Won’t last long.”

“I’m so close.” You whined. “Fuck me, please!”

He let you guide him to your entrance, slipping his head through your wetness once before plunging in. You bit back a cry and wrapped a leg over his hip. Bucky thrusted into, hold you by the ass. Being completely naked while he stayed fully clad felt so amazing. You were at his mercy. You hyper-sensitive skin rubbed on the leather in near painful ecstasy.

“Is my Doll desperate?” His tongue painted a trail over your neck.

“When you came at me.” You panted. “With that fucking strut.”

“Hmmm.” His pace quickened.

“All wrapped in leather.” You moaned, starting to shake.

Bucky had you pressed against the wall, feet completely off the ground. Breath pushed from your lungs with each thrust. You held tight to leather straps of his holster, pulling him in. You thighs quivered and body tensed.

“Needed you.” Bucky’s teeth grazed your shoulder. “Need you.” His fingers tips dug into your ass as his control began to slip away.

“Yes!” You shattered at his ferocity, his primal reaction and need. Legs shaking, cunt flooding and clenching around his cock, Bucky bit back a howl as he emptied himself.

He stilled, but for the small quivers that ran through both of your bodies. Bucky gently kissed your ear. “I need to come see you straight after a mission more often.”

You giggled, “Or just swing by my place in all your gear…”

“That,” Bucky smirked. “I can do.”

Want more? Check out my Master List.

[green-eyedfirework]

There--Dick was weakly shifting in the ground, movements uncoordinated and breaths hitching. Now it was time to find out what Dick was trying to hide so badly.

Jason kicked open the bedroom door and it hit the wall with a crash. Nothing stood out of place at first glance--the bed had a rumpled nest, the room was neater than Dick usually kept it, there was an odd looking dresser in the corner--

Jason realized it was a cradle the moment he heard the high, thin wail.

Jason's body moved despite his numbness, steps creeping closer to the crib. He could hear a choked sound from outside the room.

Jason, helmet off but gear on, gun in one hand, armored up, reached the edge of the crib and looked down.

At the infant shaking a tiny little fist and shrieking at the top of their lungs.

Something inside Jason had gone unmoored.

"No," came the strangled sound from the hallway, low and broken.

Jason, stuck in a daze, holstered his gun. The baby was still strenuously protesting, kicking their tiny little feet, tucked in a bright yellow duckling patterned onesie.

They were heavier than Jason expected, and he carefully supported their head while he cradled them in his arms.

The green was gone. The green had no say here, with a tiny infant--his nephew? His niece?--tucked into his arms.

He could hear the whisper of cloth against wood, like something was being dragged slowly.

"Shh," Jason hushed the baby, rocking them and nuzzling the top of their head, marveling at the soft fuzz. "Shh, sweetie, I'm sorry I woke you up."

The baby proved as obstinate as their papa though, and kept wailing. Nothing Jason did could quiet them, and he could feel his distress ticking higher the longer he heard those heartbroken wails.

Jason stomped out of the room. Dick had managed to crawl three steps, fighting against the submission for every inch. His desperation made a lot more sense now.

"They won't stop crying," Jason said, brusque.

Dick twisted until one blue eye was looking up, twisted in fear and distress. His voice was cracking, "She's probably hungry."

Oh. That made sense. Jason headed for the kitchen--Dick made a high, panicked sound--but couldn't find any formula. "How do you feed her?" he called out.

Dick's expression was tight and strained. "I feed her."

Jason looked down at him, at the blood covering the golden boy's face, the way those eyes were fixed on the child, the trembling, outstretched hand inches away from Jason's boot.

Jason's grip tightened on his niece. She continued her screeches.

Fine.

Dick's movements were still weak and uncoordinated and Jason could haul him up with one hand and drag him to the couch, ignoring the faint struggles. He waited until Dick had righted himself before extending the baby girl. He didn't even know her name.

Dick snatched her the moment she was in reach, curling protectively around her and shaking with barely audible sobs. The baby kept crying.

"Feed her," Jason hissed, abruptly angry again.

Dick cowered back at the growl, but decided to follow the order. He stayed pressed against the back of the couch, half hunched to hide the baby as much as he could while he pulled down one side of his shirt.

The little one was definitely hungry, she latched on immediately and began sucking away. Dick covered her as much as he could with still-trembling limbs, his flat-eyed gaze fixed on Jason.

Jason felt extremely awkward now.  He was aware he was looming, and he took a step back.  “…What’s her name?” he asked hesitantly.

Dick looked down at the infant, and back up.  “Marian,” he said quietly.

Marian.  Jason had a niece and her name was Marian.  He shifted a little closer to see her face, and Dick coiled over her again.  “I’m not going to hurt her,” Jason said slowly, because he could see how Dick had gotten the wrong impression.  But Jason wouldn’t—Jason couldn’t hurt the child.  She’d done nothing wrong.

Jason had a niece.

“If you do, he'll kill you," Dick said, voice soft.

"What?" Jason wanted to laugh. Batman hadn't killed the Joker, and Dick thought he'd make an exception for him?

Batman had made his rules clear. He wouldn't break them, even for his favorite child.

"He'll kill you," Dick repeated, absolutely certain. "No matter where you hide, he will hunt you down and tear you to pieces. And he'll make it slow."

Ooh, Golden Boy was more bloodthirsty than Jason had expected.

"Batman's not going to save you," Jason sneered. "He's always too late for his birds."

Dick blinked, forehead scrunching in confusion. "I wasn't talking about Batman."

"Oh?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "Then who're you talking about?"

"Slade," Dick said, like it was obvious. "He'll destroy you and everyone you love for hurting his daughter."

The words took a stretching moment to register. What was Deathstroke's daughter doing in Dick's apartment and why was Dick so protective of--

No.  No.  "You slept with Deathstroke?" Jason squawked.

Dick looked even more confused before his expression ticked back into distress. "Who are you?" he asked hoarsely. "What do you want?"

Jason had wanted a fight, and the Replacement was too well guarded, so he'd searched out his dear older brother who had given up the vigilante life to play rich socialite--and that made so much more sense now--and Jason had been so angry and--and he'd come here looking for a punching bag.

Jason looked at Dick's face, bruised and bloody and lined with exhaustion, and felt ill.

"Don't change the goddamn topic," Jason snapped. "Why the hell did you decide that getting into bed with the world's deadliest mercenary was a good fucking idea?"

“I really don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Dick said frigidly.  He was glaring at the helmet like he wanted it to burst into flames.

“He’s a goddamn killer,” Jason nearly shouted. “Is that who you decide to spread your legs for?”

Several emotions crossed Dick’s face, flitting too fast for Jason to track, but it settled on a blankness that unsettled him.  “Is this a savior complex thing?”

“What?”

“Are you trying to save me?” Dick asked, voice eerily toneless. “Is this supposed to be a rescue?”

Jason drew up short.  He looked at Dick—at the gaunt face below the bruises and blood, the way he’d been so exhausted he hadn’t registered Jason until the sucker punch.  He’d threatened that Deathstroke would come for the baby.  Not for him.

“Yes,” Jason said, startling himself with the speed of the response.  He stepped closer and crouched near his older brother and Dick tensed but didn’t flinch.  “Yes, this is a rescue.”

Fuck Bruce.  Fuck every single hero that had seen Dick with Deathstroke and hadn’t done a thing to stop it.  Jason didn’t know what sword Slade was holding over Dick’s head, and he didn’t care.  He’d get them free, Dick and Marian, and he’d blow the mercenary to pieces when he found him.

“It’s okay, Dickie,” Jason said, low and soothing. “You’re safe now.”

Dick withdrew into the couch, eyes lowering, his arms rigid around Marian.  He was trembling again.  Jason dared to put a gloved hand on Dick’s arm, and internally rejoiced when Dick didn’t shove him off.

“Dickie?” Jason ventured quietly. “Do you have a diaper bag for Marian?”

Dick nodded.  “It’s in the bedroom,” he said softly.  He wasn’t looking at Jason, his gaze fixed downwards.

“I’ll go and get it,” Jason promised. “Wait right here.”

“Okay, alpha,” was murmured so quietly Jason wasn’t quite sure he heard it.  Shaking off the unease at the compliant tone, Jason hurried into the bedroom to grab the bag.  He still needed a go bag for Dick, but he could get Dick new stuff.  New ID, new clothes, new everything.  Talia was not Dick’s biggest fan, but if Jason asked really nicely, she might help.  Hell, he’d bet the demon brat would be thrilled to be an uncle.

Dick was right where Jason left him—the submission, his mind hissed at him, which, oops, he’d forgotten about that—and Jason again dropped to a crouch in front of Dick.  “Is there anything else we need to get?” he asked.  Dick mutely shook his head.  “I’ll keep you safe, Dickiebird, I—”

His older brother raised his head, his eyes alight again.  “Don’t call me that,” he nearly growled, and Jason stared at him, wide-eyed, before Dick widened his eyes and ducked his head.  “I’m sorry, alpha,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Jason unstuck his jaw, “Hey, Dickibir—Dickie, it’s okay.”  He reached a hand to settle it on Dick’s elbow, and he could feel the tension as Dick held perfectly still.  “Dick—Dick, I’m not going to hurt you,” Jason ground out, but he was staring at splotchy bruises and dried blood that he’d caused, and the words rang flat in his own head.

Jason shifted up, until he was sitting on the couch beside Dick, and attempted to draw his brother into an embrace.  Dick always liked hugs.  But now, Dick was stiff and unyielding, and his heartbeat was too fast, his elbows jutting out as he curled around Marian.  Jason tried to arrange them more comfortably, and Dick moved with his nudges, leaning back against Jason’s shoulder and tipping his head to one side to bare his neck.

It was a show of trust.  But Dick’s heart was racing and his breathing sounded fast and wet, his body tense like he was bracing himself.

Jason looked down at the expanse of Dick’s neck, the bloody bite a ghastly image against the smooth, tan skin, and something clicked in his head.

He nearly shoved Dick off in his rush to get off of the couch.  “Dick, no,” Jason said, already working at the catches of his helmet, “I’m not going to—Dick, it’s me.”  He finally managed to pull the broken helmet off and tossed it aside.  “It’s Jason.”

Dick stared at Jason for a long moment, his face growing ashen as his expression grew more anguished, and he finally shook his head.  “No,” he murmured. “No, no, no, not now, I can’t—please not now—”

“Dick?” Jason tried. “Dickie?”

“Please,” Dick’s voice cracked, his eyes screwed shut as he rocked slightly in place. “Five—five things I can touch, I—the couch, my pants, Mari, Mari’s clothes, my ring.  He’s not real.  He’s not real.”

Jason felt like the world had been shoved sideways.  “Dick, I am real,” Jason said slowly, beginning to realize that coming here with no intel had been a very bad idea.  “Dick, I’m right here, it’s me, it’s Jay, please open your eyes.”

Dick shook his head, gasping, “No, he’s dead, he’s dead, you can’t be him, this isn’t real, I can’t—I can’t—”

“I came back,” Jason said over Dick’s increasingly strident tone. “Dick—Dickiebird, I came back, okay, I crawled out of my grave, it’s me, please look at me!”

Dick snapped open his eyes.  His gaze crawled over Jason’s face, hope warring with terror in a painful fracture.  “Jay?” his voice broke. “What—what happened?”

“Funny,” a low, deep, dark voice growled, causing a prickle down Jason’s spine, “that’s just what I was about to ask.”