#and that's not always gonna be about soldiering and resistance

[niobiumao3]

.

Endlessly weird to me that people blame Pabu, the island and the episode, for somehow ruining the Batch.

I feel a way about this because Pabu is a) introduced to the group by unambiguously dark-skinned human characters and b) a refugee settlement. So to place the blame for the 'softening' or 'loss of coolness' of the show on that is really ugly looking. Like it just fucking is, sorry not sorry.

Acting as if without Pabu, Hunter super totally woulda been all in on rescuing Crosshair, is to pretend like the entire rest of S1 and 2 didn't happen. He was crushed by what he perceived as a complete loss of Crosshair at the end of S1 and has plainly spent a year telling himself to accept it. You can swap out Pabu with any one of a hundred other locations and the result is the same: Hunter isn't convinced Crosshair wants to come back with them, feels just as abandoned as Crosshair does. (Whether or not this is fair for either of them is a wholly different topic.)

None of that is about Pabu. Pabu is simply the place they come across--brought there by a fellow refugee who understands a need for solace and safety, even briefly--which reveals to them, like Safa Toma did for Tech specifically, that their lives CAN be something else. If you don't find that particularly interesting narratively, okay, but to blame Pabu is really a stretch. (Let's not forget, Phee is not about settling on Pabu either. She calls it a 'home away from home' for a reason. So she's not suggesting it as a forever place as it's not even that for her.)

Anyways. Kinda exhausted with this idea that 'Pabu' is somehow at fault for making the Batch not adventurous or heroic, as if any of them would never again leave the planet for a romp. Where does this weird ass idea come from, they have a spaceship! They can leave and come back at will!! Hunter being depressed and in his emotions about Tech being taken as some sort of 'because Pabu is an option' thing is weird to me. He coulda said Kashyyk. He could've said any number of other places. Pabu was just the place they were currently safest on.

Real over fandom not wanting narratives to play out, for characters to change and grow and become. That's how stories work.

[aurorawritestoescape]

IN HIS ARMS || QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader || 5,2k

Summary: You meet a smuggler in the QZ and can't resist your attraction to him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, a bit of fluff, unspecified age gap, Fedra soldier!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, mirror sex, degradation, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, reader really loves Joel’s arms (who doesn’t), manhandling, alcohol consumption, use of a morning after pill, mention of guns, mention of canon-typical violence. Reader has hair. Joel can pick her up. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, created by talented, sweet and beautiful @joelmillerisapunk 💖 I got ‘Arms’ and immediately thought of meaty, beefy QZ Joel. Smooches to my lovely beta @milla-frenchy 😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love y’all! Hope you will like the story!❤️

MASTERLIST

“Let’s go.”

“Sure you need me there? It’s your deal, Ronnie. And you know you’re armed, right? Why do I always have to hold your hand?” you complain, while your eyes are scanning the crowd at a public hanging for any sign of disturbance. It’s not your favorite task but Fedra sends enough soldiers here to keep things under control so it usually goes smoothly. That’s probably why your friend Ronnie arranged a deal right in the middle of your shift.

“I’m nervous, ok,” he admits, glancing at you, “The dude’s fucking scary. Never worked with him before. But I’ve heard stuff. You’re just gonna stand there, that’s all. Don’t need to talk.”

You’ve known Ronnie since you were teens in a Fedra camp. Now both officers, you are still inseparable, though at this moment you’d prefer to be as far away from him as you could because in case you two get caught, you both will be a spectacle of the next hanging. Ronnie’s pleading eyes always work on you and the little weasel knows it well so you curse and follow him to the place of the meetup.

As soon as you see the smuggler, standing in a secluded spot far away from the prying eye, your heart starts beating faster. And not because he scares you. Yes, he’s huge and looks very unfriendly, thanks to his furrowed brows and the closed off stance which actually happens to be the culprit of your unexpected reaction. His pose accentuates the beauty of his arms as he’s crossing them in front of his chest. It’s a threatening sight, same as his gaze, but like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to the man immediately. All thoughts in your head are replaced with only one - he’s fucking hot.

Ronnie slowly comes up to the man, feigning confidence.

“Who the fuck is this?” the smuggler asks, nodding at you with his chin.

“Just a friend. Don’t worry, Joel.”

“I ain’t the one to worry here, kid,” he gruffs, uncrossing his arms as his fists clench in a threatening gesture and you can sense the waves of panic, coming from your friend. “I prefer to do these things one on one. Don’t need an audience. Ya got me?”

“Yeah, ‘k. Next time I’ll be alone.”

“Hope so.”

Joel looks you up and down and you suddenly feel too hot. Standing a step further from him than Ronnie and not saying anything, you’re ogling the man with hungry eyes. Joel seems to relax and the men finally exchange the goods— pills for your friend and ration cards for the smuggler. They’re talking about the product, scheduling the next deal, and you should be on the lookout, should be attentive to the surroundings, like you always are, but your mind, as well as other parts, is fully focused on the stranger.

Joel’s hairy forearms are thick and strong and every little move makes his muscles flex and bulge out of his rolled up sleeves of the denim shirt. His shoulders are broad and the fabric, containing them, is strained to the limit. You’ve never been a biter in bed but suddenly you want to sink your teeth into his arms, lick them all over, glide your hands over the vast expense of his skin, grab them and feel them tighten around your body, encompassing you fully, while his cock stretches…

“Hey!” Ronnie exclaims, interrupting your horny daydreams, pulling on your sleeve and you blink at him, trying to shake away the visions of the man, doing filthy things to you.

“Let’s go!” he says for what appears not the first time, and you smile awkwardly, noticing Joel’s smirk. His arms are crossed again, but now he’s looking at you with a twinkle of curiosity in his piercing eyes, his heavy gaze lightened up.

You take a step away, following your friend, but Joel stops you.

“Sweetheart, wait!”

The pet name hits you right in the pussy and you pause and turn back, confused by why he’s calling you.

“C’mere,” the man motions for you to return to him with a shake of his head, his bear hands shoved in the jeans pockets.

“We’re in a hurry, man,” Ronnie frowns, thinking he’s coming to your rescue, but you turn to him and say,

“It’s ok. Wait for me over there.”

You have no idea what Joel wants from you, but you’re eager to find out. Not hiding his anxiety, your friend takes a few steps away from you and stands at the gate, glancing in your direction from time to time while his hand is resting on his gun.

“Yes? Joel, right?” You ask, coming up to the smuggler and using every last drop of your will not to leer at his mighty arms again.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

You reply with a little smile and see a smirk tug at his plush lips when he asks, “Like what you see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been starin' at me like at a piece of meat. No use denyin' it."

You avert your eyes, chewing on your lip. You probably should be embarrassed to be caught ogling the man, but life in this miserable world taught you to take what you want whenever you can. Especially if it's being handed to you.

"I'm not." You look back at Joel with defiance in your gaze. "I think you're hot."

Joel’s chest expands when he takes a deep breath, the shirt’s buttons hanging for dear life. His piercing eyes turn a shade darker as he asks,

"Wanna do somethin' about it?"

Your heart rate increases and the warmth of arousal between your thighs makes you shift on your feet.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Come over to my place tonight. Around 8. Ask your friend for the address. He knows."

You don't reply for a few seconds, making it seem like you're thinking about your answer, although your pussy has been aching since the moment you saw the smuggler so there's no way you're going to reject his invitation.

"'K", you reply, feigning nonchalance, while excitement is twisting your stomach.

“What?! Are you out of your mind? You're gonna see him?” Ronnie hisses at you, as you two are walking back to the square. “He’s dangerous! Do you realize that? He’s huge! Have you seen his arms?”

“Oh, I’ve seen his arms alright,” you reply with a dreamy smile, sensing butterflies in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re so stupid when you’re horny. If I find you tomorrow dead in a ditch, I’ll tell your lifeless face ‘I told you so!’”

“Jesus, man,” You giggle, playfully punching Ronnie’s shoulder. “I’ll be ok. I promise.”

The night can’t come soon enough. Still wearing your uniform, you rush to meet the man who's been occupying your mind all day. When Joel opens the door to you, you swallow loudly seeing him in the same denim shirt and dark blue jeans. You’ve been dreaming of his huge arms around your body, so your panties are completely soaked, and having had no time to change after your shift, you hope to slide them off as fast as possible.

“Hi,” you greet the man, stepping into his apartment.

“Howdy.”Joel closes the door and stands next to you, while his gaze is sliding up and down your body. You look around the apartment, getting a whiff of his scent— sweat with a subtle trace of whiskey.

“Are you from Texas originally?” You ask, glancing up at him, slightly intoxicated by his closeness.

“Yeah. Want a drink?”

He walks to the living area and you follow before leaving your guns at the door.

“What do you have?”

“Whiskey, vodka…water.”

“Vodka’s fine,” you reply, stepping up to a worn out couch and sitting down.

“Oh, are you a vodka girl?”

“I’m a ‘whatever burns’ girl, but vodka works faster on me,” you smile and Joel smirks, crossing his arms again. You swallow loudly, seeing his sexy tan forearms in the golden light of the setting sun. Fuck, you wanna touch them.

“Why d’ya need it to work fast? Doesn’t seem like you need any liquid courage.”

“Really?”

Joel goes to the kitchen and in a few seconds returns with a half empty Smirnoff bottle and two shot glasses. He plops next to you on the couch with a grunt and pours out the alcohol.

You drink yours in one go and Joel follows. The vodka burns and calms you down a little. Joel clears his throat before he speaks,

“This morning your friend was shaking like a leaf. And you… You were practically undressing me with your eyes, sweetheart.”

You smile and drop your gaze down to your lap.

“Well, Ronnie is a nervous guy and I’m …”

“A needy little slut?”

You shoot your eyes up at him and see a smug smile, tugging at his lips, as he awaits your reaction. You should probably feel offended or angry, but instead your core burns brighter at his degrading comment and your pussy flutters, as if proving him right.

He reads your reaction immediately.

“Oh you like that, huh?”

“What?”

“When I call you a slut.”

“I don’t mind,” you mumble while your mind is shutting down with every dirty word he throws at you.

“Yeah, you looked like a thirsty whore this morning. And I see that nothing’s changed.”

You’re barely breathing at this point, as waves of arousal ripple through your body, making you squirm in your seat.

“I…I just really like your arms.” Your gaze shamelessly slides over his body, so big and powerful.

“My arms?” Joel’s brows shoot up and he turns his head to look at his arm, resting on the back of the couch, as if trying to understand your attraction.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, ogling the muscles straining his sleeve.

“Wanna touch ‘em, baby?”

“Yes, please”.

“So polite. Wanna call you a good girl but we already know that you prefer ‘a slut’.”

Joel chuckles and narrows his eyes, watching you for a few seconds, while you’re melting under his lustful gaze, sinking in the sticky pit of desire. Through the fog in your head you hear his voice, low but still powerful.

“How about we skip the pleasantries then and get to the thing you came for.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna fuck you. And let you touch my arms.”

Your breath hitches and your body tingles all over. You can’t agree fast enough.

“Yeah, ok.”

“Do you always say ‘yes’ to everything, little slut?” he smirks, playing with you like a cat with a mouse.

You try to come up with a witty response but your mind is clouded with lust so you just shake your head with probably the dumbest look ever.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You mumble and when he points you in its direction, swiftly walk there.

You close the door in the little room and check your face in the mirror. It’s the same as every day except for your glossy eyes. You rinse your face, trying to come to your senses, look a little less horny but it’s all in vain. The desire overtook your body completely so you dry yourself and leave the room.

When you return to Joel, you find him on the couch in the same spot and in the same position. Only now he’s completely naked.

A shiver goes down your spine from a new surge of arousal, tightening your core.

You barely hear him, your mind is fully occupied by the image of this gorgeous, huge man, waiting to fuck you. Everything about him makes your pussy beat with the rhythm of your heart - his soft belly, his long, girthy, slightly curved semi hard cock, resting on his thick thigh, his broad hairy chest and muscular arms. Seeing them without the confines of the clothes completely shuts off your brain and you take a step towards him, mesmerized by his muscles, wishing to feel them already.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

You hardly hear him, taking in every inch of his body.

“Girl! Undress. Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans and you shake your head, waking up from a horny trance, and start discarding your clothes hastily, piece by piece while his dark gaze is set on you. You should be more graceful and seductive taking them off, but your aching pussy makes your movements rushed and determined. When you’re completely naked, except for your panties, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the last piece of clothing, but Joel stops you.

He gets up and walks to you, his big cock in his veiny hand.

“Wanna do it myself,” he mumbles and stands next to you, at your side, so close that you feel his warm breath on your cheek and breasts, his naked chest brushing against your shoulder, his manhood poking your thigh.

“Pretty little thing,” he whispers, taking in your body, while his hand slides down your back, leaving chills in its wake. You raise your big eyes at him, your lips parted. “Pity you get so dumb though,” he chuckles and lightly squeezes your asscheek. His hand stays there while the other one cups your breast and grazes your nipple with his calloused thumb, making it stiff. You moan and he groans.

Joel’s palm on your ass moves lower, and reaches your pussy, covered by the wet panties. He slips his finger between your asscheeks and rubs your drippping hole over the gusset. You softly whimper and he plants a light kiss on your cheek, stroking your folds over the fabric.

“She’s been crying for me all day, huh?” he mumbles, placing his large warm hand on your belly, the other one still caressing your cunt. “Pussy so needy she shut down your whole little brain. Yeah, baby?”

All you can do is nod, your senses fully focused on the way his thick fingers are rubbing your aching cunt over the underwear.

“She must be cold, sweetheart, being in a pair of wet panties all day like that?” He coos at you.

“Yeah”, you reply, barely breathing, already feeling your orgasm build because of his light touches. “Didn’t have time to change. I have a sexy pair at home.”

Joel breathes out a chuckle, “I bet you do, little slut. Would love to see ‘em too one day.”

The only response you can give is a mewl.

He steps in front of you, his hand leaving your pussy, and you whine. Joel tsks at you and pinches your chin with his fingers to lift your face to his.

“Oh, my pretty bimbo, already cock drunk,” he laughs, locking eyes with you.

Joel’s so huge, you should probably be scared, but all you feel is a pathetic need to be completely destroyed by him.

“Lights are on but…fuck, you’re gone,” he mocks you, looking into your hazy blown out eyes.

“Listen to me,” he commands, as his fingers slightly shake your head, getting your attention. “How do you want it? Gentle or rough, sweetheart?”

“Rough,” you croak back without any hesitation.

“Good. Then do what I say and we gonna have a great time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good little slut.”

Your breaths are short and fast as you’re blinking, starting at him like a mindless fuck doll. Suddenly, you gasp when he grabs the back of your thighs with his massive hands and lifts you, throwing your legs around his waist. You grab onto his broad shoulders and he carries you away from the couch and to the bedroom.

He drops you on the bed, old and stiff, but you don’t care. You have no time or ability to think about anything, because as soon as you’re on your back, Joel pins you to the lumpy mattress with his heavy torso and kisses you. He’s not asking for a kiss, he’s taking it but you willingly open your mouth, welcoming his hot tongue. A happy moan escapes your mouth, when you finally glide your palms over his huge arms. He slides your panties off and cups your pussy with his huge warm palm.

“Messy whore,” he mumbles against your mouth.

Joel’s assertive, passionate and as horny as you are, and you smile against his lips, enjoying his desire for you.

He begins peppering kisses along your jaw, your neck, leaving hickeys on his way to your breasts.

You whimper when his mouth finds your nipple and gasp when he nips at it. He licks the pain away and starts sucking on it while his hands are roaming your heated body.

You grab onto his shoulders and shift your hips under his arm. Joel’s slurping and growling, caressing your breast with his lips and tongue, but you crave more so you start grinding your wet pulsating pussy against his arm. Your movements immediately send you to the precipice of your climax. His muscles flex as you rub your clit against them, smearing your slick over his tan skin, and Joel parts from your tit for a few seconds to watch you use his arm to get yourself off.

“Look at this sloppy little pussy. Gonna need a shower after this. Or…,” he smirks and gets back to suckling your other breast.

Each motion of his muscles is helping you to come as you’re dragging your pussy up and down his heavy limb. Soon you throw your head back, dipping it into the pillow when a hard climax hits you and your cunt contracts around nothing, as euphoria is coursing through your veins, taking away the last of your clear thinking.

“That’s it— take it, slut— come for me — jus’ like that,” Joel mumbles against your trembling chest but you hardly hear him, so deep in the ocean of desire, all sounds around you are muffled.

The next thing you feel is his hands grabbing your shoulders and lifting you. Joel makes you sit up and wraps his heavy hand around the back of your neck.

“Look what you’ve done, messy girl.”

He nods at his arm, glistening with your cum and slick and then growls, “Lick it clean.”

With a hazy smile you sit on your heels, getting comfortable. Then you take his arm between your hands and reach for it. Your tongue slides over his hot wet skin and you flutter your eyes shut, reveling in the sensations of his firm muscles under your tongue and the earthy taste of your juices.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you and slightly squeezes the back of your neck to make you move your head lower and lap up all the mess you’ve left on his skin.

When you finish, Joel lifts your head and sees you staring at his throbbing cock with empty but hungry eyes. It’s leaking precum generously and you almost drool looking at it. You should probably be nervous to take his huge length but all you feel is feral lust.

Placing his palm under your jaw, Joel tilts your head up and searches for your eyes.

“Damn, lookin’ so dumb right now. Lucky you remember how to breathe, little whore.”

He laughs at you and grabs your face, as his fingers dig into your cheeks, making your lips pout.

You whine and he pulls you into his chest. You hug him as if afraid to float away and he gives you a few moments of rest while you are panting, snuggling into his embrace after the shuddering orgasm.

Then he lifts your chin and locks eyes with you. Your breath hitches as you’re struck by his handsome face, which leans down and he kisses you again, gently and slowly, wrapping you tighter in his embrace. Then he asks,

“Why do you like my arms so much?”

You blink a few times, trying really hard to understand the question, drunk on his taste and the way he’s holding you, but when the meaning finally reaches your brain, you stumble over your words.

“I… they… jus’ so big. And … fuck, very hot.”

You feel his broad chest shake with a quiet laugh. “Ready for my cock, baby?” You nod your head with a soft mewl.

“Wanna watch my arms when I’m railing you?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

Joel hums and gets up before manhandling you off the bed and leading you to a wardrobe. He’s holding you under your arms, noticing that your weak legs are barely able to move, still tingling after your orgasm. He places you like a fuck doll in front the wardrobe door with a mirror and stands behind you. He’s so big and broad that you can see his shoulders and arms perfectly in the reflection. Your gaze glides over your own naked body, and you notice a path of hickeys along your neck and breasts and your core ignites again at the sight of his passion. Then you look at Joel, his eyes are obsidian, the expression is carnal and hungry, and you moan, feeling his cock slap your lower back.

His gaze drops down before he pushes your legs aside with his knee, his thick fingers dig into your hips and he pulls your ass, making you stick it out. Trying to steady yourself, you brace your hands on the mirror in front of you, but he grumbles,

“Not the mirror, stupid. You’ll break it, cut yourself.”

You swiftly move your hands further apart onto the wooden surface.

“Sexy but so dumb,” he mumbles as his eyes return to your ass and his cock. You watch his face, serious and concentrated, and sense his tip prod your sopping hole.

“Fuck,” he curses and pushes his cock deeper, slightly bending his knees to insert it into your tight pussy easier.

You push your ass out more for him, already whimpering like a whore, as you feel your walls slowly part to accommodate his stiff cock. It stings but you welcome the sensation of his manhood spreading your pussy until he bottoms out and you both moan at the sensation.

“Ahh— she feels amazing, baby,” he grunts and you smile dumbly at his reflection in the mirror.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he murmurs, starting to plunge his length in and out of you with a fast rhythm, “oh, yeah — yeah — yeah—.”

His fat cock is massaging your walls deliciously, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust and you mewl with pleasure and scratch the wooden surface of the wardrobe with your nails.

“Naughty kitten. Tess will kill you if you leave marks on her furniture,” Joel chuckles through heavy panting, squeezing your hips and watching your cunt swallow his glistening cock.

“Who’s Tess?” You ask, not really giving a fuck and he doesn’t reply.

Instead he grants you your biggest wish - he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your torso from behind. Your hands immediately fly to grab onto his strong limbs. Joel’s right arm is under your breasts, slightly pushing them up. The other one is keeping you in place, pressed to your chest, between your tits, his giant hand on your throat. His thick fingers curl around your neck but he doesn’t squeeze it, just holds you close against his broad torso.

The sensation and the vision of his powerful muscular arms bonding you to him like that, make your pussy contract and Joel growls in your ear, his breath hot and wet,

“Squeezing me already? Fuck, you’re easy.”

You whine and Joel nibbles on your ear lobe and rasps,

“Hold tight, baby, it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

As soon as the words reach your ear, he begins rolling his hips and dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy, hard and fast.

You grab onto his bulging muscles better, and as he’s increasing the pace, you’re scratching him with your nails, leaving white marks on his golden skin and whimpering.

“Yeah, take it, dumb little whore. Gonna fuck the last of your brain out of your pretty head.”

Your breasts bounce while he’s fucking you and you bite your puffy lips, trying to muffle your moans, but Joel commands against yout ear,

“Want you to be loud, baby. C’mon. Let them all hear how good im fuckin’ ya.”

You would do anything he told you this moment so your lips part and you let your pleasured noises out, as they mix with the sound of skin rhythmically slapping against skin and his animalistic groans.

Reveling in the sensation of Joel, pounding your crying cunt, you let your hands wander all over his forearms and shoulders, squeezing and scratching them slightly, wishing to memorize the feeling of their strength under your hungry touch. Your vision is shaking with every mighty thrust of his hips but you’re watching the reflection of you two closely, drowning in the image of this tall broad man using you like a mindless fuck doll, caging you in his powerful arms and tears well up in your eyes at how amazing it feels. Your mind and body are focused on this pleasure, suffering and worries of the reality are gone and the drops of pure happiness spill and fall on his arms.

Joel notices you crying and stops fucking you, swiftly pulling out and turning you around.

“What is it, baby? Did I hurt ya?”

His dark eyes, a second ago filled with carnal desire now worried and concerned, dart all over your face and body, searching for the reason of your tears.

You grab onto him and shake your head,

“No, no, i’m fine — feels so good - you feel so good, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he breathes out, pulling you into his bear hug and rubbing your back with his warm hands.

“Please keep fucking me,” you mumble against his hairy chest and he barks a laugh before throwing you back on the bed, making you squeal with excitement.

Joel lies down and manhandles you to straddle him.

“Sit on my cock, little slut,” he commands, eyes darting between yours, reading your reaction.

“Yes, yes,” you mumble, wrapping your hand around his hot hard cock and lifting your hips, hovering over it. You don’t make him wait and immediately sink down on his weeping manhood, as your mouth falls open and your head tilts back.

Joel’s hands are holding your hips when you start riding him, and then snake up to your breasts to knead them, pinch and twist your pebbled nipples.

You run your fingers over his forearms from the elbows to his wrists and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. Not pausing your lustful dance on his cock, you gently kiss his palm, his hand, then your lips glide down, leaving open mouth kisses over his wrist, the underside of his forearm and his elbow, darting your tongue out and tasting his salty skin. You lean forward, your nipples brushing his chest, and kiss his biceps, using your tongue, and Joel moans, watching you practically make out with his arm.

“Fuck, you’re hot, baby,” he groans while you’re lapping at his skin with your eyes shut. You’re softly whimpering at the sensation of his body, big and strong under you, his cock caressing your walls, making your pussy flutter around it, pushing you closer and closer to your second climax.

“Shit,” Joel curses, pulls your head off his arm and kisses you, while hugging your torso with his python-like grip. He’s holding you tight and you whine, not being able to move your hips and chase your orgasm. Sensing your impatience, Joel plants his feet on the bed and begins jackhammering his fat cock into your slicked up pussy, giving it to you rough and fast, not sparing your little hole.

You’re moaning against his scruffy cheek, your body shaking with his feral thrusts but Joel’s iron hold is keeping you in place.

“Usin’ you like a fuck doll you’re, yeah? Brainless little slut. Made just to make my cock happy. Perfect for me.”

His filthy words, leaving his mouth through gritted teeth, are barely audible because of the loud slapping of his body against yours and the squeaking of the old bed.

“Joellll…,” you moan, and after a few more thrusts explode on his thumping cock, caged by his strong arms, sobbing with heavenly pleasure flooding every inch of your body.

“Hnggg—shit—can I come inside?” You hear a gruff roar in your ear and with Joel fucking your brains out right this moment, you breathe out, “yeah, oh, yeah.” You crave to be full of him, drip him for days after, getting turned on just from the memory of him. As soon as you agree, Joel starts spurting his hot cum into your pulsating cunt, filling you up, emptying his balls into you.

You’re lying still, nuzzling his neck and taking everything he’s giving you, milking his cock to the last drop with your contracting walls.

Gradually intense ecstasy morphs into a pleasant satisfaction and you both bask in the afterglow of your orgasms. You feel almost high on endorphins, not used to such an amount of happiness in your veins, in your life.

Joel softens his embrace but still holds you, letting you rest and you almost doze off, lulled by his warm chest rocking you up and down like a giant wave.

“Don’t sleep yet, ya need to take a pill,” he gently shakes you, sleep heavy in his own voice.

“Oh, yeah…fuck, you came inside,” you murmur, blinking at him, as your mind fog slowly clears up.

“I have a Plan B, don’t worry.”

He moves you off him and lays you down on the bed, then gets up, making the bed squeak.

You can’t move your limbs even if you tried to so you’re lying there, feeling his warmth between your legs, kisses of the afterglow all over your heated skin and smile lazily when he returns to the bed with a glass of water.

“Look at you, as cock dumb as they get, huh?”

He plops down next to you and hands you the pill.

You sit up with a tired smile, swallow the pill and chase it with a few sips of water.

“Good girl,” Joel takes the glass from you and shakes his head when you murmur that you need to go.

“No way. Sleep here. They'll hang your ass if they catch you out and about at this hour.”

You turn your head to the window, just noticing that it’s completely dark outside, only the street lamps illuminate the room with a yellow light.

“Aww, you care about me, Joel? Don’t fall in love,” you giggle but your heart flutters as you look up at the man, so handsome and huge, looming over you.

“I’ll try,” he deadpans and shakes his hand, motioning you to scooch.

You shift to the other side of the bed and he lies down on his back with a grunt. You’re still sitting up, shamelessly admiring his naked body.

“Quit starin’,” he mumbles with eyes closed and pulls you down onto his chest.

You’re lying on his shoulder for a few moments and then whisper,

“Can you big spoon me?”

“Jesus…,” he sighs but turns on his side, scooping you in his embrace and you smile, closing your eyes as your hands gravitate to his arms, heavy and secure around you. You press your back into his warm chest and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖🌸

Masterlist

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[lialacleaf]

Simon Riley X Reader: Domestic Head Cannons

Warnings: Fluffy, Simon likes you and it's obvious

Simon likes to bring you back little souvenirs from his missions. You talk about wanting to travel all the time but there's too much work to be done on base to ensure his job goes smoothly overseas.

He calls them little work trophies to make you feel more like you're part of the team. You'll never actually get a medal since you're not a soldier but as far as he's concerned your work is just as necessary to the team as his, whether it's the diplomatic emails you draft up to get the 141 into other countries with as little resistance as possible, or the intel you organize into files for their missions.

Once he's back on base and had a chance to shower, he's making a beeline to drop off his mission report to you along with your newest little trophy from Russia.

Your expression of boredom turns to a soft little smile when you see him enter your closet of an office. You at least have a little window that you've lined with tea lights and set a candle on the windowsill.

You always like to keep your spaces cozy, and he finds himself wondering how charming your quarters are.

"Done with your paperwork?" you ask, gesturing to the folder. He's always finished earlier than everyone else.

He nods and holds out a brown paper bag. "Brought you somethin' you might like."

You grin like a little kid as you pull out the gift. Sometimes it's cool rocks, an old book, or on occasion small art prints from local artists. You aren't sure where he finds these things, or even the time to go out and look for them.

This time it's a little puzzle box, about the size of your hand with intricate carvings on the side. It had a little weight to it, and you could tell there was something inside.

"Gonna make me work for it, huh?" you ask with a grin.

"A distraction to get your head out of all that paperwork," he says, his eyes crinkling softly at you, and you just know there's a smile under that mask. "Go on, give it a try," he urges.

"You're going to watch me struggle with this thing?" you ask with a laugh that sounds like music to his ears.

"It'll be some amusement for the both of us," he teases, earning a swat on the arm as you bring the box closer to your face.

"Alright, challenge accepted." You fiddle with it for about ten minutes, with Simon occasionally raising a brow at your attempts to open it until you hear a little click and pull the lid open.

You've got a triumphant smile on your face when you glance up at him, before inspecting the powdery substance inside. "Is this sugar?"

"To go with the tea from Vietnam," he explains.

"Thanks, I love it," you say, standing on your tip-toes to place a kiss on his masked cheek.

Simon is grateful for the mask hiding the red in his cheeks.

[sky-is-the-limit]

P: Phillip Graves x 141!F!Reader

TW: CNC (kinda?), Breeding kink (kinda?)

WC: 979 words

Summary: The Shadows captured you during the 'Alone' mission and Graves just can't resist a pretty soldier like yourself, wink wink 🫶

Phillip Graves loomed over you, his taunting words slicing through the thick haze of your mind while his breath, heavy and tainted with the scent of tobacco, fanned across your face when he leaned closer.

"What would your dear Captain say if he could see you like this, hm?" He mocked with cruel amusement.

The table creaked beneath you, protesting the relentless force of his thrusts. Each brutal stroke sent a wave of heat crashing through your body, the obscene slap of skin on skin filling the air, the sound embarrassingly loud in the otherwise silent space across the illegally occupied base.

You were unraveling, each movement making you crack further, your voice reduced to a litany of breathless whimpers and filthy swears.

Every shred of dignity you had was gone, replaced by the raw, animalistic need he had ignited in you.

You were a traitor. First to your team, then to your Captain and now to yourself. Being captured by the Shadows had been out of your control but this? This dark, twisted pleasure that you found in Graves’ midnight visits? This was your fault. Entirely.

Every time he cornered you, pressing you against the cold walls of your cell, you spat venom at him, swore that you hated him, that you didn’t want his touch. But he always laughed, a low, humiliating reminder of your position before forcing you to face the reality.

The truth that, deep down, in the wicked, most corrupted corners of your being, you wanted this. Ever since he was assigned to assist the task force with El Sin Nombre, he was all you could think about.

Graves thrusted into you again, his brutal pace driving you to the edge, making your body betray you even more as you whimpered and pleaded beneath him with fists clenching at the air, desperate for something to hold onto.

"Maybe I should record you looking like a fucking mess and send it to the asshole-" The older man threatened, his grip tightening on your jaw as he pulled out, the wet sound echoing in the room before slamming back into you, filling you completely.

Your toes curled, ankles trembling as they squeezed around his thighs, his broad, drenched in sweat chest a searing sun against your own. He was immovable, relentless, and it felt like he would go on forever, leaving you with no hope of restoring whatever was left of the person you were before that damned mission in Mexico.

"You love it when I'm using your pretty little cunt, don't you?" He sneered, thick with arrogance. "You love big, bad Commander Graves corrupting every single part of you—fucking hell, look at you.''

You couldn’t deny it, not when your body reacted to his every word, tensing up in response even as you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He pushed deeper, harder, his cock brushing against your cervix with each punishing slap. It was heaven and hell, twisted together in the only way Graves knew how to give. Too much and not enough, all at once.

All you could feel was him, every inch of him stretching you out, grazing those most sensitive spots that had you teetering on the edge of delirium.

He was so thick, each slam driving you closer and closer to the brink and your cries only seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening as he pushed with such force that the wooden surface was promised to create lines against the wall behind.

"I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart." Graves declared, pride drowning in each syllable as his Southern drawl growed heavier with each word.

The promise in his tone made your breath hitch, your heart pounding in your chest as the implication of his words sank in and you knew he meant it, it was sharply defined in the blue fire of his gaze.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, again and again, until you're ruined for anyone else."

The very idea of it, of being marked, claimed, and consumed by him entirely, sent you into a spiral before your arms instinctively tightened around his neck, pulling him closer as if to brace yourself for what was to come.

Naturally, Graves took it as a challenge, a sign to plunge into you even further and your mind went numb, completely overtaken by the sensation and your hips began moving on their own, desperately meeting his ruthless assaults against them.

For a moment, he paused, savoring the way your body reacted to him before his hands moved to the back of your knees, lifting them to rest on his broad shoulders. The new angle had you gasping, the stretch so deep, so overwhelming, that it felt like he was splitting you in two.

Phillip didn’t hold back, he mounted you completely, his toned body towering over you as he began fucking you with a frantic, almost feral intensity.

The surface beneath you made a sound that resonated with you, a loud warning that it would break. You could feel yourself falling apart, every muscle in your body tightening as he pushed you further and further into a state of utter submission and humiliation in the filthy, cold cell.

"You're gonna carry me with you until your last fucking day." The Commander spat out with a sinister smirk, his hips snapping against yours with such precision that sent you over the edge, your body responding with a raw, uncontrollable spasm that made your vision white.

You were his, completely and utterly and there was no escaping the hold he had over you.

[yandere-wishes]

˚｡✮ Yandere! Darth Vader {Anakin Skywalker} x Apprentice Reader

˚｡✮ Bad, bad news, One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse, Just add some friction, You are my strange addiction

˚｡✮ We've talked about Yandere! Anakin Skywalker falling for Padawan! Reader... But what about Vader falling for his acolyte/apprentice?

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ★⋆.˚

Vader isn't nurturing.

It feels almost sacrilegious to entertain the thought.

That's why it's so troubling when the galactic empire's staff take note of a smaller morbid figure trailing after the ebony monstrosity.

I can see there being many interesting scenarios in which Vader would pick an acolyte. The most heartwrenching and particularly curious case would be if his acolyte used to also be Anakin Skywalker's Padawan.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader searching for you across the galaxy. He feels your force signature reverberating inside him, calls out to it, tries to bind and morph it. A sardonic love letter he pens with rage and perplexion. Still, you always slip away. He keeps your hunt a secret, some ancient wound that's never healed right. The swing of your saber still haunts him, your satisfied grin as you land a blow on him. The force works in mysterious ways and Vader's desperation can't fully be reasoned. He's given up everything that Anakin once had. Forgone to an almost spiritual level. But you are the one pesky thing that still lingers. He likes to think that it's because he knows your true power. That you're a threat as long as you live.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader finally, finally finding you. Mesmerized by how much you've grown. You're rugged, wild. Some strange creature wearing the skin of the girl he once loved. You don't hesitate to attack, and Vader signs it off as a blessing. He needs a reason to hurt you, to drag you back kicking and screaming. He needs an excuse to push his fury between your bones and drown you in his sorrows. He needs revenge in the worst way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader winning because of course he does. He leaves you bruised and broken, bleeding on the soft grassy ground. Your eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with terror. Your voice melodic as you scream in agony as his saber severs your leg and arm. Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. You left him, left him to face Obi-wan alone, left him to be mutilated and disfigured.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only coming to terms with who he is, and what he is as he's watching the medical droids repair your body. He can never escape Anakin, cause that's who he still is. Anakin hasn't died just grown. He's no longer the kid with a schoolboy crush on his pupil and supernovas under his tongue. He's swallowed the burning stars, let their fires and explosions paint him in shades darker than the nights on Tatooine. He runs a cybernetic hand across your head, feeling you for the first time in forever.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader training you once more. It's been months since your capture, months of brutal and tender torture. He's ripped you apart and rearranged you so meticulously. Picking favored parts to hem and sew with a buzzing red needle and dark doctrines. Only when Vader notes the red-rimmed golden shift flicker across your eyes does he know he's truly won. Your connection to the light is nearly completely severed. Your past is left to rot on the green planet. What stares back at him from the corners of the dark, damp cell is a creature forged of hate and malice. A sith in every way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only ever happy when he's with you. He's finally free to train you as he pleases, to touch you as he pleases, to kiss you as he pleases. He's taken you to ice worlds to bleed kyber crystals and to Mustafar to forge your new armor. He kisses you on a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead resistance soldiers. Metal clancks against metal all wretched sinister love. You're beginning to love this new master, he's everything Anakin had repressed, he's everything you have always feared. But the thing you must realize about fickle fears is that once you fall in love with them, you begin to lose yourself.

˚｡✮ Imagine Pulling up Vader's mask and kissing the burns across his face. Your kisses are laced with such passion and hate he feels like he's drowning in lava once more. He's brutal in the way he handles you, each touch leaving a plethora of bruises, singing I love you. You like the way each training session starts with a deep all-consuming kiss and ends with him using the force to smash your head into the ground as you laugh and laugh. His force signature is different now, you like the way it slithers across your body, all fire and pain, all destruction. Love the pain that comes with him, this grisly bloody love affair that makes the stars shutter.

The staff of the galactic empire, Find the little midnight creature all too bizarre.

She trails after their commander with vicious playful skips and plays uno with their lives. She twirls around the galaxy's most feared as if she's playing hopscotch.

The staff of the galactic empire doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror...

I think about how at the beginning of being Vader, Anakin was so quick to reject who he once was. Trying desperately to kill off any semblance of Anakin. But by the time of the Original Trilogy, he's sort of come to terms with who he is and who he once was. Anakin isn't really dead he's just grown stronger now, and in a strange way, he even seems to embrace his past as a Jedi, wearing it as - a not so obvious- badge of pride.

[dogwithrabies]

【★】 gn reader but described as afab, slight? sadomasochism themes, scara and reader match each other's freak somehow, not proofread I'll correct mistakes later (maybe)

【☆】 part 2 of this I will never settle on just one interpretation of scara i'm gonna keep flip flopping abt him…..

word count 3.7k

You made it out of the office.

It’s been a few weeks since the last encounter with the Balladeer, since he so kindly let you go with an invitation for next time. The walk back to your private headquarters wasn’t as humiliating as one would think, but the way your step had a little happy hop to it made a few heads turn.

Even the guards at the door's entrance shared a glance, it truly is unusual to make it out alive.

After your visit to his office, everything seemed easier, the amount of physical work you had to do greatly diminished, but all this newfound free time is somehow, always spent in the workplace. The moment you finished your tasks for the day you’d get called in his private headquarters. And most of the time you’d be doing nothing for the whole duration of your stay.

There was a couch next to his desk that you’d sit on and watch him work. Sometimes he’d even grace you with the opportunity to sit near him (he was surprised when you immediately decided to sit on the floor between his legs, but he doesn’t mind as long as you don’t hinder his work). Sometimes, people would walk in, completely clueless of your presence, which spooked you at first, but then quickly made way for other fantasies. You could suck him off in front of your fellow soldiers and they’d have no idea, and you wouldn’t mind even if they managed to catch you. But you’ve still got to figure out some things first.

As much as you’d love to throw yourself at him, the line between what he deems acceptable and not is still thin and almost invisible to you, it’s like walking around eggshells, constantly pushing your luck whenever you make a move or try something new. You’ve been scouting his boundaries and limits, and so far you’ve learned that:

He doesn’t mind physical touch when he initiates it (or when he feels like you’re revering him enough). Sitting at his feet and squishing his legs on the sides of your face also allowed you to feel his structure and constitution. His legs were as soft as you remember, but the skin around his kneecaps had a little dent, almost like the bones under it were disconnected, segmented. They also felt robust, like he could cave your face in with a single kick. And yet they were so dainty and looked so fragile, and thinking about it makes you go a bit crazy.

And lastly, he never takes off the bands around his wrists, even when he removes the armor there’s another layer of cloth covering them.

This isn’t much information, but he’s not keen on entertaining your questions when working (and you think he wouldn’t like the idea of having his whole being analyzed so clinically).

So you stick to keeping yourself entertained, whether it be catching up on lost hours of sleep on the couch or thirsting over his legs like an old perverted man.

You quickly start to realize that your stay in his office is a double edged sword, you got to overhear a lot of sensitive information you shouldn’t have access to. He doesn’t seem too bothered by it, he knows you know the consequences of any of this getting leaked. It’s almost like he’s pushing you even deeper in the dealings of the fatui, you had no plans to leave, but now, knowing what you know, it was completely impossible. The less logical part of your brain is almost tempted to try and escape, just to get him to punish you. But it probably wouldn’t stop at that, he’d have to ensure that what you heard in this room, stays in this room, and he’d probably have to put you out of commission, permanently. You imagine him choking you, he’d look so pretty above you, but it also would be too much work (not that you’d put up any resistance), he’d probably just shock you to death. It’s significantly less personal but you’d still take it.

You’re completely caged, and it’s all his doing. 

You huff against the skin of his leg. It sure is a bore, to be so close to what you want but unable to get it. Your hands slide under both his knees to squeeze his legs at the sides of your face.

Above, you can hear the sound of papers being moved around. So he’s still not done, you think to yourself as you wiggle out of the tight space under his desk and move to the couch. 

Why does he insist on keeping you around if he’s just going to ignore you?

You lay on your side and kick your shoes off (he scolded you last time you kept them on) and turn around to look at him.

He doesn’t even look at you, the loss of your presence is irrelevant and goes unnoticed.

He can feel your eyes boring holes through him, he knows you’re bored by how restless you’re acting. He has half a mind to reprimand you, you should be honored he’s allowing you to spend time in his presence, and yet you have the gall to act bored.

Can’t you see all the favors he’s doing you? Reliving you of your work, taking away most of your responsibilities so you can spend more time with him, you ought to be on your knees thanking him. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he is also stripping you of your agency, he knows of humans’ fixation with being independent, they can be hard workers, he’ll give them that. This intrinsic feeling isn’t as different from his own need to be useful. The need to be needed. But it’s different, to him, he’s long abandoned his flimsy childish desire to become a human, he knows he is destined for things far greater than any human could ever stride for.

But alas, humans are simple minded creatures, truly inferior to him in any category, they could never hope to grasp the grandiosity of his divine being. 

So he shall give you a pass, and a treat to keep you entertained and docile.

So he puts away the stack of papers on his desk, the action catching your attention, eyeing him as he makes his way to you, as he sits next to you.

“My lord,” you address him as you push yourself up and make more room for him.

“Come here,” he motions with his hand, “Don’t waste my time,” he adds when he sees you hesitating.

You shuffle closer to him, it’s stupid to be this careful now when you’ve spent the last few days squishing yourself in his personal space. Maybe it’s the fact that this is new, he never prioritizes you over his work, only indulging you after he’s done.

 So you feel like a fish out of water.

But if one could read minds- you could have sensed the shift in his energy, or perhaps at least brace yourself for the moment his hand roughly grabs at your hair, bringing you closer to him and exposing your pristine neck.

He lets out an amused huff, and it’s all the warning you get before he pulls you even closer, forcing you to awkwardly hoist yourself up over his lower body. His mouth is warm on your skin, but it’s not those soft lips that you so much adore that make contact, instead, it’s a wet, nasty bite like he’s trying to rip you apart, make you bleed, and some more. 

But he doesn’t linger on just one spot, letting his mouth wander, leaving a trail of what will surely darken and bloom into ugly sore marks. Every time his teeth sink in a yelp threatens to leave your lips- and he thinks it’s funny, the way your eyes squeeze and lips purse trying to silence yourself. 

But no matter how strong willed you are, he will find a way to break you, too.

And he gives you a moment of reprise, as he admires his work. Nothing that your uniform wouldn’t cover, but it’s his ego talking when he riles himself up with the thought that only he can mark you, not the other way around. 

You’re convinced he would’ve just straight up eaten you up had he spent just a few more minutes gnawing at your neck. A rational part of your brain is urging your muscles to move, do something, to get out of this situation, but it’s so quickly drowned by another flow of thoughts. You wouldn't mind if he chose to consume you, in any way he prefers.

He latches once again on your skin, the front of your neck this time, biting and sucking until the skin swells around the hard grip of his teeth. And this time, you don’t have it in you to stop yourself from whining, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. And he finally seems satisfied by your reaction, pulling you closer to his face, admiring your distressed expression. 

The way your eyebrows furrow together, tears blocking your view as you try to squint them away, desperately trying to get a look at him. You’ve never been this close to him, face to face. He exhales and his breath fans over your face, and it just feels empty. Like an ordinary gust of wind, prive of any trace of the usual warmth any other human would possess.

But you’re not given any moment to dwell on the thought, his other hand grips your face and brings it closer to his, for a moment you expect the sting of another bite, but you’re met with a sensation that leaves your head swooning. The warmth of your tears is replaced by a soothing kiss, and another, and another, and soon the wet sensation is replaced by another equally wet feeling, the pressure of his tongue licking up the trails the tears left.

He doesn’t miss the very apparent blush creeping up your face, chuckling to himself before picking you up with an inhumane amount of strength and repositioning himself. Now he’s above you, again so so close, with wide eyes observing every inch of your face, drinking in your ruined expression.

The glutton that he is, looking is never enough and he can’t keep his hands to himself, off of pretty things. 

So he lunges forward, and your mind blanks the moment his lips cage yours. It’s everything but kind and soft, his teeth immediately nib at your lower lip, tongue forcing itself inside, licking at your mouth.

It takes you a second to register the new feeling, your body melts into it and you don’t have the will (nor want) to fight it. He’s so rough, not giving you a chance to get used to the rhythm, he seems so intent on letting you participate in whatever he is planning to do.

Something quickly dawns on you, sucking any sound you emit straight from the source, it’s filthy and messy and he doesn’t relent even when your hands desperately push him away, trying to put some distance between the two of you, trying to get even a gasp of air.

He laughs softly against you, sensing your struggle, but still not showing any sign of mercy, if anything it just spurs him on, grabbing the sides of your face to push you against him. He shifts his body, actively laying on you, caging you with his full weight.

He’s half hard in his shorts, you can feel his length throbbing with each slight movement of his hips, grinding himself on you. But still, his grip on you doesn’t relent, he can feel you slowing your movements, resisting less and less while still struggling for even a gasp of air.

You think he’d be content with smothering you with his lips (and what a way to go that would be), but then he suddenly pulls away, a wet string of saliva connecting your mouths. You’re panting under him, desperately trying to catch your breath as he busies himself with lapping away whatever glob of tears dares form in your eyes.

He stands unnaturally still above you, watching you gasp over and over until it slowly dies down and fades into a slightly more labored breathing. With a normal amount of oxygen flowing to your brain you also start to regain awareness of your position.

You can feel him twitching and grinding against you, despite all the layers of clothing. 

His gaze on you remains unwavering as his hands move to unclip all those annoying buttons, unclasping every single one until he can take off your coat, and you let him, body almost limp as he slides it off you.

“Don’t tell me you’re already gone, I was just starting to have fun,” he murmurs against your neck, gently nibbling on it this time.

All you can muster is a small mh-hm, it’s enough confirmation to asses that you are still conscious (and alive).

He makes you the favor of getting off your chest, moving your limbs out of the way so he can settle between your legs, ridding you of your remaining clothing. Despite being in his office, the air is still relatively chill, the moment you’re fully exposed a shiver runs down your spine as you adjust to the new temperature.

He, on the other hand, is busying himself with manhandling you, pushing you further up the side of the couch, and letting your head rest on the side arm. 

“You’re awfully wet,” he says once he’s satisfied with this new position, “a bit of kissing is enough to get you this turned on?” you can hear the grin in his voice as he speaks. You could say the same about him, his erection is VERY hard to ignore and he’s so hard it almost looks painful. You want to reach out and touch him, stroke him to completion as he comes undone over you, but he’s faster and you can just watch as he lowers his shorts just enough to free his dick.

“Surely you won’t mind if we skip preparations. You seem ready enough.” you immediately feel him nudging your folds, slowly rubbing himself, his tip bumping on your clit as he shifts higher.

“I don't mind-” he uses his finger to apply more pressure, “I want you inside me. Please.” “How bold, How can I say no to that?” His hands move to your hips as he holds you in position, his tip sinks into you and he wastes no time pushing in the rest, too.

You make a sound as you throw your head back, the sudden feeling of being so full overtakes you. You can feel him throbbing inside you and it’s driving you insane- alongside his little huffs above you- you could come just about now.

You feel him pull back slightly before pushing back in, slowly at first, and then picking up speed once he’s found a satisfying rhythm. The stretch is still a bit uncomfortable, but you’re so wet you’re leaking against his pelvis and the front of his shorts. 

“So tight,” he bends lower so his mouth is directly next to your ear, “it’s like you’re sucking me in.” All you can do is moan into his shoulder, sliding your arms under his so you can hold him closer to you. He takes it as an invitation, pushing himself impossibly close to you, picking up his ministrations on your neck again.

He’s not as heavy as you expected him to be, you can still comfortably breathe with his weight on you, and with how close he is to you, you can feel his pelvis rut against your clit with each shift of his hips.

His teeth sink into you again, he stills there and he sucks on the spot until it darkens. There isn’t a single spot he hasn’t sucked or bitten, the whole zone feels so raw.

“I knew it,” he mumbles into your neck, “You bruise so beautifully,” he says while looking at you.

It shouldn’t turn you on this much. That’s not a normal thing to say to anybody, however. He feels you clench on him as your hips roll into him, tiny mewls spilling from your lips as you chase your high. 

“F-fuck, fuck- please-” It’s muffled but he can still hear you and it only spurs him on. 

“Please what? Please fuck me faster? Harder?” He says in a mocking tone. You want to answer him but you don’t even know what you’re begging for. With every thrust, your brain melts a little, and you find yourself pathetically moaning under him.

Your grip tightens on his back as you grow rigid under him- it’s a surge of warmth that passes through your body so suddenly, leaving you gasping under him. It’s even wetter now, his dick is practically sliding out of you as he fucks you through your climax.

“How cute,” he muses. “That fast?” He stills his movements and lifts himself up once he feels you limp.

Your brain is buzzing as you recover, lust still clouding your mind. His cold hands a juxtaposition to your warm body, he pushes your legs up and higher, the angle making the back of your knees burn uncomfortably

“I hope you don’t think we are done yet, I intend to have my pleasure too.” 

He resumes his thrusts, harder this time. His tip reaching the deepest part of you, so rough it’s like he’s trying to push even deeper. He’s just using you for his pleasure now, fucking you like you’re just an object for his pleasure, a toy to fuck and fill up until he’s satisfied.

He applies more pressure to your knees, squashing them against your upper body. His cock catches against a spot, softer in texture than the rest, and you gasp.

“Good?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but he takes enjoyment in the way you mindlessly nod in response.

“A-again, please.” He twitches, and obliges your request, angling himself to hit that spot with every thrust, and his ears are immediately graced with the sound of your sweet whimpering.

Your hands flail around, before settling on gripping the cushions under you. You miss his back, his presence against you, the bits of hair tickling your hands whenever he lifted his head. But you’re not gonna complain, not when he’s pummeling into your cunt like he intends to break you. Matter of fact, you can hardly form any thought that isn’t just mindless blabbering.

He curses, as he moves one hand to shove his shorts lower, exposing more of himself, every time he pushes into you now there’s an audible plap of skin against skin contact. It’s impossible to ignore, and you’re sure whoever’s passing by his office must hear what’s going on inside (if your moaning didn’t give you away already).

But he doesn’t care, the way you clench against him every time he slides over that spot, the surge of liquid leaking on him as he fucks himself deeper inside you, it’s too good to stop. 

Your pleasure comes after his, but archons does he want more of you. He repositions you roughly, hoisting one of your legs up as his other hand busies itself with rubbing your clit.

It’s messy and he’s applying a bit too much pressure, but the effect is immediate and you couldn’t care less. Your stomach tightens as a burning feeling intensifies, he talks you through it and it only intensifies the feeling.

“Oh? Are you close again?” he taunts you, but it’s affecting him too and it shows in the way his movements get more desperate.

“Then do it, come for me, come for me again,” and it’s embarrassing how you can do nothing but obey him, clenching around him as you spasm and flutter around him. Your free leg squeezes his side,, your back arches and he huffs. But he doesn’t give you time to rest this time, he ruts in you, leaning on you, even as the pleasure turns into overstimulation.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He sounds raspier, almost winded. He’s close and the thought is almost enough to make you come again.

With one pointed thrust, he pushes himself impossibly deep and stays there. And then, it washes over him, as he fills you up in waves and waves of his seed.

He lets go of your leg and leans back, his cock slipping out of you.

You feel so empty without him, and the feeling of his come slipping out of you doesn’t help. He watches your fingers as they make their way to collect whatever spilled out of you to push it back in, slightly shivering everytime you brush up against a sensitive spot.

Are you trying to rile him up again? He laughs at the thought.

“So insatiable,” his voice catches your attention, “let me help you,” he says.

There truly is no end to his greed, all he knows is to take. And it’s what he’s planning to do now, too.

You want to question him but the thought quickly dies on your tongue when you feel him penetrating you again. Your insides accommodate him with no resistance this time, but you can’t help but notice that he’s still hard.

“...no refractory period?” you think out loud. He hums in amusement.

“So you do have a brain, here I was thinking all you could do is think about my dick.”

You bite the side of your cheek, “Well, you’re not wrong. But…”

He twitches at your admission.

“I couldn’t help but notice some things.” 

“Like?”

“You just seem so different.”, his gaze hardens for a moment and you hurry the next part of the sentence out, “Not in a bad way! It’s just… you’re stronger, faster, and prettier than anyone I've ever met”.

He doesn’t respond, inviting you to elaborate.

You don’t mention the rumors going around, not that they’re reliable, coming from another Harbinger’s subordinates, but every lie has a base of truth to it.

“There are other details, but the whole picture got me thinking…” Your voice dies down as you momentarily sink back into your thoughts.

“So what, you want an answer from me?” You don’t respond, focusing on how his tone has shifted into something more malicious, and how his hips started slowly moving again.

“Too cock-drunk to think?” He muses to himself. “That’s fine. Maybe you’ll figure it out one day.”

His cock rolls into your walls, pushing little gasps out of you.

“But for now, I’m gonna make good use of you.”

[amourtoken]

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

-

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

Lord Jon and Prince Damian is a funny combination because just imagine Clark never managed to conquer all earth because magic and magic user, Talia basically built a huge kingdom to protect her people from the Lords and also accepts some others who are fleeing.

Years past and Jon has always been curious about that place and laughs when he faces Talia's youngest soldiers. He falls in love deeply hard about that boy with green eyes, then Jon starts to try to seduce that cute and smol boy (and Damian hates him deeply)

Just imagine:

Jon: *throws a body at his door like a cat*

Damian: ... Some guys bring flowers

Jon: I'm not 'some guy'

And also

J: "i've killed for you. how many other people can say that?"

D: "... Multiple, actually"

Basically: Lord Jon's love language is being annoying

Took me a while to figure out how I'd write the Super Lords, but eventually I was inspired by another work. I might write a sequel to this but we'll see. Fic under the cut.

Jon was scrolling on his phone, looking to find people talking negatively about him or his father so he could send them death threats. He could probably find them easily and make good on those threats, but then he'd have to get up, and he was comfortable where he was. He was getting a little peckish though, so he might run through a couple if he got up to eat.

His dad came into the room looking flawless. “Jon.”

“Hey dad, can you get me something to eat?”

“What? No. Get it yourself, or better yet, ask Kelex.”

“I thought you took away my voice commands after I killed the wrong general last week.”

“Oh, right. Have the knowledge crystals not taught you how to hack yet?”

Jon groaned ”I hate the knowledge crystals dad, they take so much time. I don't see the point in them.”

“The point is they would teach you how to solve problems, like how to reinstate your voice commands in Kelex’s code. Now get up, I have something important for you to do.”

Jon got up and stretched. “Oh I'm way hungrier than I thought. Hold that thought, Dad.”

“Jona–” Kal started sternly as a gust of wind blew past him. He could hear Jon ferociously consuming junk food from the pantry in superspeed. When he was done, he ran back up to his dad.

“Hey Dad, I'm back. What's up?”

“What do you know about Talia Al Ghul?”

“Oh that's easy. She's like, your archnemesis. Her family's got really strong magic so she can kill us if she gets close enough. She controls the last stronghold of human resistance. She's older than you so she's, what, a million?” He grinned cheekily “Just kidding, Dad. You don't look a day over 500.” He laughed. “Kidding! You should see the look on your face.”

“Jon, I'm being serious here.”

“‘kay.”

“She's just crowned her heir, Prince Damian. He's your age.”

“Oh?”

“He's an even more powerful mage than his mother, and trained in martial arts. He is a serious threat, one that needs to be neutralized.”

“Ok, but how am I gonna do that? You said he's more powerful than his mom, and you can't kill her.”

“He takes his group of soldiers into the Himalayas every month to train privately. I want you to ambush them.”

“Kill them, right? How do you want them dead?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“Alright. I'll be right back.”

Kal grabbed his arm and dug his fingers in hard enough to bruise. “You could die today, Jon. Take this seriously. Run away if you need to. You're no good to me dead.”

Jon nodded. “Got it.”

Jon flew to the mountains and looked for them with his heat vision. He found them fighting each other and flew down and started snapping the neck of the closest person to him. Unfortunately, this was slow enough to draw alarm from the other assassins, who all knew magical attacks. Still, Jon was quick and he fought dirty, letting out a deafening shout and causing an avalanche. The teens fought him with martial arts married with magic, sacrificing their lives so that the final assassin could defeat Jon and place him in magical bindings.

He spat blood. “You're lucky they can be brought back to life, or I wouldn't have spared yours.”

“I didn't ask you to. But thank you– not for sparing my life, but for beating me. I've never lost before. It was exhilarating! Can you do it again?”

The boy looked at him strangely. “What?”

Jon grinned manically. “You're a great fighter. I want you to defeat me again. And again and again until I get bored. What's your name? I never even lose to my dad.”

“... I am prince Damian Al Ghul.”

“Oh no way! I came here to kill you! Well, I'm not doing that anymore.”

“Clearly not.” Damian said, gesturing to the chains around him.

“Oh no, not cuz of that. I meant cuz like–” Jon cut himself off as Damian took off his mask and piercing green eyes met his own. “Wow, you're really pretty. I've never seen anyone as pretty as you in my whole life. Definitely not prettier. I think I was saying something?”

Damian blushed. “Tt. You were saying why you're not going to kill me.”

“I think I'm in love with you.”

“What?!” Damian squeaked.

“That was so cute! You're so cute! You're so small you look like you'd fit just right in my arms!”

“Go back to the ‘I love you’ part because I'm not understanding!” He shouted.

“I'll say it as many times as you want! I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoui–”

“Stop! You can't love me, you just met me, and your dad is superman!”

“Um, I'm pretty sure I can. Love at first sight is a thing, and I've known you for longer than that already.”

“So what, just because you think I'm pretty and I beat you for the first time, you're in love with me?”

“Is that not enough? Ok well, I really like the color of your eyes, and you're really powerful, and you make me feel so many feelings I have never felt before! Fear, excitement, curiosity, admiration, respect, awe, happiness, arousal–”

“Stop talking.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

“That's talking.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Still talking.”

“I don't know how you want me to stop talking if you keep talking to me. Oh but uh, don't stop, I like it.”

Damian facepalmed. “I'm taking you back to my mother.”

“Oh I hope she doesn't decide to kill me after you went through the trouble of sparing me, that would be really embarrassing for you.”

Damian was quiet for a few minutes. “...You've never felt curious? Or excited, or afraid or happy? Really?”

Jon shrugged. “Maybe once. But nowadays I'm always either bored or bloodthirsty. Except right now, I'm neither. You're the most interesting person I've ever met and I just killed 5 people. That's like, 1 more than I usually do in a day.”

Damian set his jaw hard. “Why do you kill so many people?”

“Why do you think, assassin Prince? To feel alive.”

“...Who do you usually kill?”

“Dissidents and criminals. My dad's okay if they're dissidents or criminals. There's not, like, a ton of those out there anymore, though, so I've taken to scrolling back really far on Twitter. Oh, and jaywalkers.”

“Tt. Typical.”

“Who do you usually kill?”

“Political enemies, soldiers, criminals.”

“I guess everyone's a political enemy when they're aligned with us and not you. That's a lot more people you can kill. I kinda wanna join your side now.”

“We don't kill frivolously.”

“Why not?”

“Because we value human life.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why does your father care about order if not to preserve human life?”

Jon laughed. “My dad doesn't care about humans! He just wanted to tidy things up. He gets mad when I kill other people because it messes with his system. It's one of those dumb parent rules, like keeping your socks in the sock drawer, or cleaning the fortress on Sundays even though we have robot servants.”

“... You're completely insane.”

“Do you want me not to be?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I want you to get what you want! You deserve to get anything you want, way more than my dad does. I bet you could with your magic! Cast a spell on me, make me sane for you. If you want that, I want it.”

“It's Jonathan, isn't it?”

“Yeah, or you can call me Jon. Or you know, whatever you want. Even if it's mean, I can take it.”

“...Jonathan. I don't want to take your agency away with my magic. That wouldn't be right.”

Jon shrugged against his chains. “If you say so, my prince.” Damian was quiet for a while, and Jon slipped free of his chains to help Damian cart back all of the bodies. “You should let me carry this.”

“What– Jon?! How did you escape my bindings?”

“Magic interacts completely unpredictably with me.”

“I don't– why are you even still here?”

“Why would I leave? It's not as if there's anything more interesting on TV. Twitter says all the shows are boring cuz of Dad. Well, you know, the dead side of Twitter. God do you know how perfect you look? From every angle?”

“Jon, I think you should just leave.”

“Well, my dad is expecting me home soon. What do you think I should tell him about you not being dead?”

“... Is he going to hurt you if you go back?”

Jon shrugged. “If I let him. Which I probably will, so I don't get grounded. But I might be grounded anyway since this meant a lot to him. If I don't get grounded, can I see you again?”

“It's best if you don't.”

“I'm going to be honest, I don't like that answer. If you want me to stay away you'll have to use your magic to harm me.”

“Tt. Do you have a death wish?”

“No. My biggest wish is for you to spar with me and win.”

“What if I lose?”

“Then we'll go again until you win.”

“...Hm. You're very… persistent.”

Jon grinned. “Thanks. Wow, it feels really good when you compliment me. Do it again.”

“Um… you have really unique eyes?”

Jon beamed. “This is great, keep going!”

Damian blushed. “I'd rather not.”

Jon pouted. “Pleeeeaaase? I'll do anything.”

“Will you go home?”

“Fine, yes, after… 3 more compliments. Then I'll go home, for now.”

“Tt. Your curls look very nice, your hair makes a nice contrast against your skin tone and you– ah… you… that is, you're very strong.”

“I already knew that last one.”

“I meant muscular.”

“That's not a compliment, that's just a fact.”

Damian’s ears burned. “...I like it. I like that about you. I like that you're muscular. It looks… visually appealing.”

“Oh, I'm definitely in love with you. I'd love to stay and compliment you back, but I said I'd leave, and I want you to trust me! If you ever need me, or just want me, all you have to do is call. I'll come.”

Jon flew back home. “Dad? I ambushed him, caused an avalanche, and killed his squad, but he still beat me.” Jon called out.

Kal walked out to see his son. “You look unharmed. Why did he let you go?”

“Honestly? I think I annoyed him too much. But I'm going back tomorrow.”

“I see… an ambush didn't work, so you'll have to gain his trust and then betray him. I was going to punish you but your tenacity and cunning deserve a reward, so it is simpler to do nothing.

“Oh, yeah, psh, that's totally why I want to go back. I totally want to murder him in cold blood. I mean, you know how much I love murder.”

Kal frowned. “I do know. It gets in the way of your studies. However, this time I approve.”

“‘kay. Thanks. See ya.” He went back to his room to watch Damian with his X-ray vision.

The next day, Jon went to Nanda Parbat and watched Damian from the sky, waiting until he was alone to approach him.

Damian’s hair was slicked back with sweat and he was flushed and panting.

“Prince Damian. You look somehow even more incredible than last time.”

“Spare me the mockery.”

“What? I'm not mocking you. The way your skin flushes and glistens is as enchanting as any of your spells, my lord.”

“Hn. You know most humans find sweat repulsive?”

“I'm only half human. Also, you smell great. Musky. Can I lick you?”

“Definitely not.” Jon pouted. “Do you want something?”

“Yeah. Can we spar?”

“After lunch. Would you like to dine with me?”

“Can I? Won't the servants see me?”

“I cook for myself.”

Jon gasped. “I get to try your cooking?! Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air.

Damian chuckled good naturedly.

Jon leaned against the island as Damian cooked. “What did your dad say about you failing to kill me?”

“Oh I told him I was going back today and he thought I meant that I was going to gain your trust to kill you.” Damian stiffened. “So I'm going to let him think that so I can spend more time with you.”

“Try this.” Damian said, handing Jon a spoonful of sauce. Jon tasted it.

“Hm, that's pretty good! I've never had this before.”

Damian tasted it himself and nodded. “It is good.”

Jon ate at his usual impatient pace and spent the rest of the meal talking at Damian.

“Alright, Superboy, follow me.”

“Anywhere.”

“Tt.” Damian led him to the training courtyard. “Here we are. Remember to be quiet.”

Jon rushed to tackle Damian but he predicted it and dodged, casting a spell to slow down Jon’s movements. It was a lot stronger than the spell Damian intended to cast, and he moved like a sloth. “Wow prince…” he began as Damian took his time pinning Jon to the ground and immobilizing him with a spell. The first spell wore off quicker than expected. “...Damian you're so fast! Oh, it's already over!” Jon giggled. “You did even better this time! I suppose it's to be expected since it wasn't an ambush. You're really impressive…” Jon sighed dreamily, looking up into Damian’s eyes with a lovestruck gaze.

Damian coughed and looked away. “...You wanted me to beat you. Did you go easy on me?”

“I can honestly say that didn't even occur to me. I don't know why I would do that. Would it have made you happy?”

“Hell no. It would have made me angry.”

Jon smiled. “I'd like to see you angry. Maybe I will next time. Though I don't know if you'd even notice, considering how well you beat me this time.”

Damian looked confused. “Why would you want me to be angry?”

Jon raised a brow. “‘Cause I wanna see how you look when you're angry. I've never seen it before. I wonder if it would make me angry, too. I never get angry anymore.”

“You're… impossible.”

Jon grinned toothily. “Is that a good thing?”

“... I haven't decided.” Damian got off of Jon, much to the younger teen’s disappointment, and did a nullification spell on Jon before helping him up. Jon smirked and flipped Damian over his shoulder as he stood, but Damian landed on his feet and cast a sleeping spell on Jon. He woke him up with a water spell, sitting on his chest.

“You got me again! I love you.”

“You're weird.”

“Is that bad?”

“I haven't decided.”

Jon smiled, crinkling his eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Damian laughed. “Sure. I've not even worked up a sweat yet.”

The next time he came to Nanda Parbat he threw down a corpse in front of Damian, face still splattered in blood.

Damian sighed. “Most guys bring flowers.”

“I'm not ‘most guys’”

“Who was he?”

“He criticized your looks so I killed him for you.”

“Jon, I don't care what anyone says about me.”

Jon's eyes flashed red. “I care that he said that. Now he can't say anything like it ever again. What do you think of my technique?”

“Messy, but efficient.”

Jon smiled “Thank you. Do you want to spar?”

“Jon it's 11:38 at night.”

“... Is that a problem?”

“I was sleeping.”

“Oh. Can I join you?”

“Tt. No. Go home.”

Jon pouted. Damian held firm.

“Okay. I'll miss you.”

“Tt. You say such embarrassing things. Goodnight.”

Jon smiled, then quickly leaned in to kiss Damian’s cheek. “Good night, my love.”

Damian slammed the door in his face.

It became somewhat of a pattern for Jon to ambush Damian when he went out on missions, and Damian learned to expect it. Jon was getting faster at killing Damian’s compliment.

“I killed them, so we can be alone!” Jon said cheerfully, gently touching Damian’s cheeks with his bloody fingers and looking at him adoringly.

“Jon. Keep your hands to yourself before I cut them off.” He said, drawing his rune-encrusted sword slightly out of the scabbard.

Jon pouted but removed his hands. “As you wish, my lord. So, what are you out here for today?”

“I was planning on retrieving a magical relic from a temple to the east of here, until you showed up. You’re like a gnat.”

“I can get it for you!”

“Tt, I’m sure you can’t, there are magical booby traps.”

Jon pouted. “I want to do this for you. Please?”

“Jon, I am certain that if you were deathly injured my mother would not permit me to put your body in the lazarus pit.”

“Not even if I died saving your life?”

“Likely not. I shouldn't even be talking to you, you are the enemy.”

Jon grinned. “I guess we both like to do whatever we want.”

“It is human nature to desire freedom.”

“Well yeah but I'm not human.”

“You are as human as you are kryptonian. I wonder, did your father have the same disregard for your mother as with the rest of humanity?”

“I dunno. I was cloned from her dead body and my dad. I never saw them interact. But I know he loved her, and I know he misses her. He's told me it's the only reason he puts up with me.”

“It does not sound like you are very close.”

“We aren't. But he's the only other kryptonian other than Kara Zor-el so y'know, he's important. Not as important as you, of course, but he was previously the most important person in my life.”

“We're here. Don't follow me.”

Jon floated after him. “But I wanna keep you safe! Let me carry you.”

“No– Jon, put me down!”

Jon grinned and flew Damian in. “What's it look like? I can look through the walls for you.”

“Unneeded, I have a map.”

Jon swiped the map from him and read it. “I have a great sense of direction, don't worry.”

“You are infuriating.”

“We cause strong emotions in each other~ how lovely. Okay, hold tight.”

Jon flew quickly down the halls, before being knocked into the wall by a magical hammer. Damian rolled off of him as Jon groaned in pain. “You idiot. Where are we?”

Jon grunted and pointed to their location on the map.

“I can’t even cast a healing spell on you as I have no idea how it will effect you.”

“Don't worry… I have super healing… so the side that hit the wall will be fine. The wall isn't magic, right?”

Damian checked. “Luckily for you, it is regular stone.”

Jon grinned. “Help me up? I wanna help you finish this.”

“It's a bad idea. We need to get you out of here.”

Jon shook his head. “I'm not going. I'll be right behind you. You can handle the magic traps, and I can fly in front of an arrow for you or something.”

“And what if it's a magical arrow?”

“I'll die for you. Did I not mention that?”

“Tt. You're dangerous to have around. But if you're not leaving…” Damian got out a rope and tied them together by their waists with a length of rope in between them. “Stick close to me.”

Jon floated to his feet. “Mkay. Let's go!”

Damian sighed and pulled along a floating Jon. He disabled the traps as they went until they reached the chamber with the artifact. Damian picked it up and the room shook with a deep voice.

“To get out of trouble, face your double. Return the staff to the rack and it will end the attack.”

Smoke billowed out of the air vents and coalesced into shadow versions of Jon and Damian. Damian sighed and took out his katana.

Jon and Damian fought back to back as their shadow versions worked independently. Damian took out his double and Jon defeated his own. The smoke dissipated and Jon cheered.

“We did it! That was awesome! They didn’t stand a chance against our teamwork! Imagine if you came in here with your whole squad! That would have been so much chaos, I really did you a favor by killing them.”

Damian growled and pressed his sword to Jon’s throat, backing him up against the wall. “No. Killing.”

“Mhn, so it's fine if you kill me but not if I kill your squad, who as we've previously established can come back to life whereas I will not?”

“I will kill you if I have to.”

“I would expect nothing less, my prince.” Jon smiled slightly. “So this is what you look like when you're angry. I love the intensity in your eyes.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Are you really trying to de-escalate the situation by flirting?”

Jon shook his head as much as he could. ��Just saying what I think, my lord. And I think you look beautiful.”

Damian sighed and withdrew his blade. “You're an idiot.”

Jon smiled cheerily and let Damian drag him along by the rope still attached to his waist. Damian escorted Jon back to the entrance of the temple and cut the rope. “You need to stop killing my team every time I leave the palace. It makes me look incompetent.”

“Do you get in trouble?”

“Not exactly, no–”

“Then it's fine!”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen to me carefully. I am telling you that I want you to stop killing my team. Did you not say that I deserve to get what I want?”

“You're turning my words against me! I just want to be with you. Your assassins would never allow it. If I don't defeat them, I'll die.” Jon whined.

“Then learn non-lethal techniques of taking people down. Practice on those criminals or whatever.”

“You want me to… not kill a criminal?”

“Yes.”

“I can try… can I still be violent?”

“I would appreciate it if you did not scar my team too badly. But outside of that, you can be as brutal as you like as long as they do not die.”

“Okay. I will practice not killing and come back to you. Farewell, my prince.”

“Farewell, lord Jonathan.” Damian said as Jon lifted off into the sky, the cut rope rippling in the wind with his cape.

Jon stormed through the palace towards Damian, knocking people out of the way like flies. “Prince Damian! I came back, as I said I would.”

“Yes, I can see that. Are you here to kill more of my people? You know I cannot allow that, Lord Jonathan.”

Jon cocked his head. “Why would I do that? I don’t care about humans.”

Damian quirked a brow. “I am human.”

“You’re better than everyone else, though.”

“Is that so?”

Jon giggled. “Yeah, I think you could even kill me if you tried. That’s so hot. Look at you, not attacking me right now… so romantic...” Jon sighed.

Damian tutted. “I’m beginning to regret that.”

Jon giggled. “Some days I think I love you so much I'd just let you. Would you like me to do that? Or would you want a fight?” He came closer.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A genuine one. Oh… If I tried to kill you, I hope you’d try to kill me too… maybe we could die at the same time. If I am going to die, I want it to be by your hand. And no one else deserves to take your life away but me, and only if you asked me to.” He giggled, twirling his hair. “I really like having you around, so you would have to convince me first, or else I wouldn’t even let you kill yourself.” Jon hummed. “But I don’t see you convincing me that this world is so terrible as to deserve to be ridden of such beauty.” He stroked Damian’s cheek with a gloved hand, and Damian smacked it away. Jon sighed. “I love you.”

“You don’t know what love means. Your father never showed you.”

“I don’t? Well then, you’ll have to teach me. No one else will do.”

Damian tutted, before sighing as if greatly put upon and offering his ring for Jon to kiss. He did so gladly, kneeling at his feet.

“My prince.” Jon held Damian’s hand by the wrist and turned it over so he could nuzzle into his palm. Damian allowed it. Jon locked his violet eyes on Damian’s emerald ones. He kissed his fingertips one by one.

“You are so devoted to me. It’s perplexing.”

Jon kissed his wrist. “It’s simple; the whole earth should bow to you. You are perfection. Every moment you spend with me is pure gold; my greatest treasures.Or maybe it is that I can take anything in the world that I want, except for you. You are the only thing I could ever rightfully earn. The only goal worth pursuing. Everything was meaningless and dull until I met you, my Prince.”

Damian cupped his cheek. “And what if you got me? What then? Do you truly believe that to be love?”

“I would work to keep you and to serve you, to make you happy.” He smiled. “To annoy you, to pester you, to laugh with you, to see you cry. To hold you. To learn everything there is to know about you until you’ve changed so much that I have to learn you all over again.” He sniffed Damian’s wrist, at the cologne there, and deeper at all the smells that made up Damian. “Intoxicating.” Jon puffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what love is supposed to be like. Have I got it wrong? Do you think it matters? I ask out of curiosity, ‘cause even if it were really something completely morally unacceptable to you, I wouldn't care. It feels better than anything ever has. It’s what I live for.”

Damian’s lips parted in surprise. He schooled his features to ask his next question. “How many people have you killed since I last saw you?”

“None.” Jon smiled. “I’m learning, see? I can do better. I must be of some use to you, haven’t I?”

Damian got a strange look in his eye just then, and Jon became excited at the prospect of learning that expression. “Get up.”

Jon wilted. “Have I offended you, my Prince?”

Damian shook his head. “Stand up. Don’t. Float.”

Jon bowed his head obediently and stood up. Damian stepped close and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder, pulling him down into a slow and gentle kiss. Jon did not know his heart could race so fast. Damian pulled away with an unreadable look in his eye. “Alright, Jon. I accept. I will teach you how to love.”

Jon beamed. “Oh, this is so much better than murder.” He whispered.

Damian smirked. “It is, isn’t it? A lot of things are.” Damian took his hand off of Jon’s shoulder and put both behind his own back.

“Could you excuse me for just one moment? I feel the urge to go fly.”

Damian nodded, and Jon flew off, laughing brightly like a child.

Jon returned a moment later. “I love you! It feels so triumphant!” Jon gasped. “Does this mean we are dating? Boyfriends?!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes. My mother will not be pleased.”

“I can kill her for you, if you wan’t.”

Damian glared at him. “No. No Killing.”

Jon looked at him for a long time. “Okay… Okay. But if someone tries to kill you, I won’t spare them. Even if you get mad at me. Even if you don’t believe my explanation. Even if you can take care of yourself. I promise, I won’t let you die.”

Damian scowled. “Just…kiss me, you idiot.”

Jon flew to his side in an instant, but was much more apprehensive about actually kissing him, so Damian grabbed his head and dragged their mouths together. Jon purred and pulled him closer. Damian nibbled on Jon’s bottom lip and he gasped. “Damian!”

“Yes?”

“You’ve done this before! And I can’t kill whoever you did it with!”

“You don’t have worry, they are already dead.”

“Woah, do you kill people instead of breaking up with them?”

“Tt, no. They betrayed me. I made an example of them.”

“Wow, I can’t imagine killing you if you betrayed me.”

“Hm. I can’t say it was pleasant, but— we are supposed to be kissing right now, Jonathan.” He pulled him in for a few more smooches.

“Is this part of learning how to love?” Jon asked dazedly.

“No, this is for me. I’m just glad I found a way to shut you up.”

“Dami! That’s–” More kissing. “That’s mean. I love it when you’re mean to me.”

They had their arms wrapped around each other by now. Damian rubbed between Jon’s shoulder blades. “You really shouldn’t.”

“Nobody is ever mean to me but you! How could I not like it? I love when you give me attention.”

“To have everyone afraid of you, your whole life… Let’s change that, hm? You are terrifying in the way that you move, talk, smile, laugh, and behave… But we should be able to change at least two of those.”

“Am I so scary, even to you?”

“No, not to me. You’re even… cute.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?”

Damian furrowed his brow. “No, why would it be?”

“My father always told me to stop acting so cute, that it was distracting.”

“Everything about you is distracting. You’re currently distracting me from my work. I didn’t think you cared.”

Jon smiled. “You’re right, I don’t. And like I said, you can be mean to me, as long as you don’t ignore me. Well, even if you tried to ignore me, I’d cover your eyes until you had to acknowledge me. Or… maybe I could bite you, like Krypto used to do when I was little and I’d ignore him. Hm… come to think of it, you did just say I was distracting, I’m sure there are lots of ways I could get your attention. I like being distracting.”

Damian arched a brow. “Surely you’ll allow me to get my work done.”

“Well, that’s not ignoring me ‘cause you’re mad! So it’s fine. I can just watch you.”

“Do you watch me when you leave?”

Jon nodded. “And I strain my ears to listen. I love the sound of your voice, my prince.”

“Oh Jonathan, your life cannot only be me. I want you to stay in the palace so I can show you other things you might find meaningful.”

“Like what?”

“Friendship, learning to cook, making art. Things that are worthwhile because of the struggle. I think you will enjoy pottery.”

“What's so interesting about making pots? Plenty of people can do that.”

“They can do it because they put in the work, and they are better than you at it. Don't you want to impress me with an excellent piece of pottery?”

“You would like it if I gave you something I made?”

“Jon, the only person who can make the art that you would make is you. If you do not make it, it will never be known. You can give me something no one else can.”

“Who cares? Everyone will say they love it so I don't singe their eyebrows off…”

Damian arched a brow. “I won't.”

Jon blushed and smiled at Damian. “That's right, you're not afraid to tell me what you think. You're my equal.”

“I may even decide to encourage you with kisses.”

Jon rumbled a purr. “I love you. I'm going to make you the best pot ever.”

Damian kissed him again. “Good. I eagerly await it.”

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Can you please write more soft cock zevlor? 👉👈 maybe with a male reader?? If thas not much to ask..... (Also thanks for ypur service to the society)

IT WOULD BE MY ABSOLUTE PLEASURE

Zevlor/cismasc!Reader

!NSFW!

-When you have sparring sessions with Zevlor, you always feel a spark between the two of you. Intense, lingering eye contact. Playful smiles. And when it's done, the hand on your back congratulating you for a job well done tends to linger far too long.

-But this session is different. It's more visceral, more teasing. Every word that Zevlor says spikes your adrenaline and coils heat in your stomach.

-"Come on, harder!" as you swing at him, "I can take it, so give it to me." Your cock is getting stiff as you continue swinging, the both of you starting to pant with strain, "Harder, that's it--harder, just like that!"

-Perhaps a bit too roughly, you knock the sword from his hand and are immediately on him. The flirting has finally reached it's boiling point, and you can't hold back and play naive any more.

-You grind your throbbing cock against his groin, the both of you breathing hard into each other's mouths.

-"Is this hard enough for you?" You ask, dropping your own sword to grab Zevlor's hips and pull him tightly against you, making sure he feels just how much he's worked you up.

-Zevlor seems like he's been expecting this all along, kissing you rough. It's hurried and desperate, like Zevlor's been holding back just as much as you have.

-You can feel that Zevlor isn't hard yet and try to rut into him to get him there, but instead, he steps back from you. You think he's about to cut this all off and say that it's a mistake, but instead he turns and places his hands on a tree, his tail thwipping against the ground excitedly

-If that doesn't make the invitation clear enough, Zevlor unfastening his pants and shucking them down is about as clear as things could get. You're behind him in an instant, grabbing handfuls of his taut ass and kissing the side of his neck

-But when you reach around to stroke his cock, a calloused but gentle hand grabs your wrist. "Don't worry about that," Zevlor breathes, "Just take me."

-It's clear that he's uncomfortable about his dick for some reason, so you don't push it. Instead, you kiss his neck again, letting your hands slip under his shirt to caress at the hard ridges of his ribs

-"Lube?" You ask, grinding your clothed cock against his ass

-"I've, ahh--" Zevlor arches his back as you nip at his neck, "I've already taken care of it," His tail wraps around your waist, pulling you closer, "So fuck me already."

-Your mind reels as you fumble your pants open. What does he mean that he took care of it?

-You only have to wonder for a moment, because as soon as you slide your cock between his ass cheeks you feel that his hole is already soft and slick with lubricant. You groan into his ear and ask him if he fingered himself before this

-"A good soldier is always prepared." You can't see his face, but you can hear the smile in his voice

-Knowing that he was expecting to be fucked by you is driving you wild. You pant out apologies as you inch into the impossible heat of him, your muscles twitching with the need to slam in but resisting as best as you can

-"I can take it," Zevlor groans, reaching a hand behind him to grab your hip, "So give it to me."

-Hearing him parrot back the words from your sparring earlier makes you laugh, and then buck your hips. "Like this?" Your cock pries him open, making both of you moan and pant

"J...just like that-" You can see the muscles of Zevlor's back flex as you begin pumping into him, "Fuck, just like that..."

-It's amazing. Zevlor's hole is impossibly hot and tight around you, and the sounds he grunts out with each thrust makes your head swim. There's no way you're gonna last long like this

-You know that you're going to cum in the next few pumps--the heat in your core is building to a manic degree, and your thrusts are getting faster and sloppier

-Instinctively, you reach around Zevlor and grab his cock to stroke him, hoping to bring him to completion too

-"N- wait, ahh--" Zevlor's body tightens and his hands grab yours, but they don't pull you away.

-His cock is still soft. You slow your hips before stopping altogether, feeling like a monster for being so greedy and inconsiderate

-"Don't..." Zevlor moves back against you, slowly fucking himself on your cock, "Don't stop...feels good, promise..."

-You wouldn't believe him if it weren't for the sheer amount of precum oozing from his tip. The sticky-slick fluid steadily leaks into your hand as Zevlor finds a quicker pace and arches his back, groaning and shivering as he finds his prostate with the head of your cock

-Understanding dawns on you. It explains why he didn't want you to touch him earlier. But with that realization comes a fierce adoration. To you, signs of age aren't anything to be ashamed of. It's something worthy of admiration--a testament to all you've been through. You've always loved the signs of Zevlor's age-- the thickness of his horns, the creases around his eyes, the faded scars along his chest. This is certainly no exception.

-You pull Zevlor tight to your chest, grinding into his prostate as quick and hard as you can, peering over his shoulder to hungrily watch his soft cock swing with your thrusts. Thick strands of precum dangle and fall messily from him, all the while Zevlor's moans grow higher and tighter-- he's getting close

-Your muscles burn as you fuck him with everything you have, your eyes fighting to not roll closed as you threaten to fall into your orgasm

-And then you see it-- The clear slickness of Zevlor's precum turns white and it drools thickly from his tip as he whines deep and gravelly in his throat. The sight and sound alone would've been enough to push you over the edge, if you weren't already there

-You ride out your orgasm, burying yourself deep in Zevlor's ass as you fill him with hot pumps of your cum. You could have stayed there behind him for an eternity, just relishing in the feeling of his strong back and tight ass, but kissing him is far more important in that moment

-You turn him around and lock him into a kiss, grinding your cocks together-- yours twitching and slowly softening, and his still steadily leaking

-"Fuck," You breathe into his mouth between a kiss, "I love you..."

-You feel Zevlor's muscles tighten at that, but after a moment he melts into your arms, a happy hum rumbling in his chest

[bucknastysbabe]

Thinkin bout big ole sub Bucky

Explicit blurb w finger sucking and dry humping trying to get rid of my fatass writers block

Like just making him impossibly frustrated and horny in public. I mean he’s practically stuck to your side anyways, baby is BABY. Sitting in the park on a sunny day, kinda hidden behind a tree, Bucky’s arm is safely hidden under a thin shirt. No one’s really watching. He’s talking to you about something with the Avengers while you lay next to him.

You get distracted by his pretty pink lips moving, Bucky’s voice filtering into a low hum. So up your fingers go to press against his lips, the supersoldier getting a puzzled look on his face. Holding a faux-innocent you asked, “Open for me?” Bucky can’t resist, opening up and sucking softly, moaning under his breath.

He’s got an oral fixation the size of Texas, of course he wants fingers in his cute mouth.

The brunette laps at them before you press on his tongue, making him drool and sputter a whine. Feverish eyes search yours as he turns his huge body into yours, just on his side now. You look down to see his cock already swollen and straining in his pants. Bucky whines again, always a puddle of mush as soon as the blood starts flowing south.

You shove a slimmer leg between his thick thighs and murmur lowly, “Get to it then, big boy.” Bucky’s eyes go wide, him attempting to say a slobbery ‘no’ around your insistent pressing digits. Giving the man a look he crumbles easily with a tiny jerk of his hips— inhaling sharply and exhaling with a deep groan.

A third finger was shoved into pink lips, you cooing, “Good boy. So cute and slutty.” Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he was humping your thigh in quick little movements, puffing out helpless noises, trying to seem non-descript. Peeking your head up and scanning the park it was still clear, everyone doing their own thing while your boy was a wet mess.

Bucky suckled on your fingers, lurid slurping noises filling the space between you two. You were practically fucking his mouth with your fingers at this moment, grinning and getting closer to tease and kiss on Buck. His eyes had fallen shut blissfully, huge chest heaving with every whimper and high noise, hot hot hot and swollen cock dragging against your thigh.

A flesh hand slapped onto your hip, impossibly strong fingers digging into your side. He tried to slur out, “M’gonna, aaaah, cummmm.” You egged him on with a kiss to his tensed neck, pulsing with blood, “Yeah? Gonna cum with my fingers in your mouth, humping my thigh like a sweet puppy?” He nodded and squirmed harder with a helpless cry.

The once timed thrusts of his hips had turned into stunted movements, untimely and on every move upward he cry your name. Drool dripped down his lips and chin, big frame quaking. “Come on, come on, don’t want anyone to see the Winter Soldier crying like a bitch on a park blanket,” you teased. Bucky choked on a breath, mewling and shivering as he shoved himself flush to your leg, staining the front of his jeans with cum.

You pumped your fingers a couple more times to ease him through the orgasm, tears leaking down his red cheeks. Sliding them out and wiping the spit on the blanket you marveled at Bucky’s debauched face— lips obscenely swollen. He slurred, “F-fuck baaaaby.” Caressing his stubbled cheek with one hand and petting a soft side with the other, your lover panted, eyes hazy.

“You’re so fucking adorable,” came your giggle as he plastered his big body to your own, careless of eyes or the heat.

[meiliarotten]

Lingerie Headcanons (All Mercs!)

🔞Minors DNI🔞

The Masterlist

👟 Scout 👟

Honestly I see scout as the kind of guy that gets worked up if you just happen to wear a bra and panties that match.

He just likes the idea that you put thought into what you were gonna wear for him

If you really wanna play to a fantasy though…

Playboy Bunny suits

It’s stereotypical, but people find those outfits sexy for a reason, so can you really blame him?

Favorite colors- he would claim to like the typical red and black, but I honestly think he has a soft spot for pink.

And he definitely doesn’t know shit about lingerie styles (tbh, neither do I. I’m looking at charts and cosmopolitan articles as I write this) so a simple bra and panty set suits him just fine

🦅 Soldier 🦅

Just dress up as the Statue of Liberty, he’ll be all over you

Ok, I’m kidding. Kinda. On to the serious stuff.

I think less is more with Soldier. I’m thinking vintage pinup aesthetic really gets him going

I know it’s not technically lingerie, but hear me out

Wear a dress or top that shows off your chest or “accidentally” drop something only to bend over in a skirt that’s conveniently just a bit too short

Bonus points if your wearing some actual lingerie beneath that skirt, flashing a bit of lace

Tease him, see if you can crack that strict drill sergeant demeanor her tries so hard to maintain

Once you're in private just know he’s not going to hold back on you.

favorite colors are red white and blue. No, I will not be backing down on this.

🔥 Pyro 🔥

the more colorful, the better with this one!

That goes double for frills.

Honestly the two of you could probably make a whole day out of you trying on different outfits and strutting around like a runway model, much to their delight

Pyro is like your own personal cheerleader

May also enjoy sexy costumes (nurses, French maids, etc), but I don’t see them as being much into roleplay, so those are probably more for fun

The fashion show usually ends when an outfit is just too hot for them to resist 😏

Because Pyro fucks and I will die on that hill

Their favorite colors for lingerie would be shades ranging from fire red to pastel pink

Favorite style is either babydolls or rompers. They just think you look so cute in them!

💥 Demoman 💥

He probably has the most ‘traditional’ lingerie tastes of everyone

Nothing too fancy, just a silk chemise or a pair of lacy black panties will do just fine

He definitely loves being surprised with it now and then. Undressing you to find that you’re wearing something special is always a turn on

Sometimes he’ll even save up to buy you a pair for special occasions like anniversaries.

He always gets super flustered when giving it to you, though. It’s really freaking cute

That said, if you really want to get him going, wear a pair of his boxers

You know those guys who think it’s hot as fuck when their partners wear their boxers or briefs?

Yeah, Demo’s one of those guys, 100%

Plus, you get to wear comfy, loose underwear. It’s a win-win!

🥊 Heavy 🥊

Heavy doesn’t have any need for fancy lingerie

Honestly he’s kinda terrified of tearing it. That stuff is expensive!

That said, he does enjoy the way you look in a teddy.

When he learns the name of the garment he’ll call you his “little bear.” It quickly becomes his favorite pet name for you

Favorite colors- doesn’t really have any. He thinks you look pretty in any hue.

That said, one thing that gets him even more worked up than lingerie?

Is when you wear one of his shirts- obviously way to big for you, fitting you like a nightgown- and nothing else.

🔧 Engineer 🔧

this is gonna be stereotypical as hell

And honestly he’s very aware of how stereotypical it is and he’s a little ashamed of it

But if you wore a sexy cowgirl costume he would be on you in a nanosecond

But let’s run with that- I think Engie likes costumes

This man has a secret knack for roleplay, I’m telling you

Naughty nurses, feathery show girls, a college student with a low cut blouse who would do anything for a passing grade

He does have some more vanilla tastes as well though. For example I think he loves the simplicity of a camisole or nightgown

Favorite colors would include white and baby blue

🏥 Medic 🏥

I will PERISH on this hill- Medic is a thigh man.

He LOVES the way stockings hug your legs. (In fact I’ve written a fic about this exact scenario)

He would also go feral over a sexy nurse outfit. Is it stereotypical? Yes. But it is also very hot. (I have also written a fic about this)

He’s definitely bold enough to just outright ask you to wear something for him, perhaps a blood red bustier and some matching garters (to play into that thigh kink I mentioned)

However he leaves it up to you when you will be wearing said thing, maintaining some element of surprise.

Once he actually sees you in it, perhaps waiting for him in his private quarters after a long day of work, he will take his time to admire you, making you do a little spin for him

He’ll definitely tease you and refuse to undress you until you're begging for his touch on your bare skin.

🦘 Sniper 🦘

Sniper is not a picky man when it comes to sex

That said, lingerie is always a welcome surprise

His only preference comes down to the style of the lingerie- he prefers crotchless designs.

He doesn’t see the point of wearing something sexy if he has to take it off to fuck you

Styles where the bottom of the panties can be easily pulled to the side also work for this

I think he also enjoys silkier textures.

He’ll run his hands over the fabric both during and after sex, almost as a way to soothe himself and come down from the high

Neither of you really know why this calms him down so much

🌹 Spy 🌹

Spy has sugar daddy energy and will probably buy lingerie for you

Expect the fanciest, silkiest garments that money can buy.

Chemise, robes, and negligee (which is basically the “wealthy widow whose husband died under mysterious circumstances” robe, according to the internet)

Most often they would be in traditional black, but I feel like a deep violet or midnight blue could also be appealing to him.

Oh and get ready to be teased to hell and back.

Spy likes to take his time, especially when you’re wearing something nice for him. After all, what’s the point if he just strips it off of you immediately? (plus this stuff is expensive so he’s gotta get his money’s worth out of this.)

He loves teasing you

[sexydoffyman]

day 30 - CAPTURE AFTER CHASE

Phillip Graves

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

A lil TW: there's a bit of Stockholm syndrome.

You weren't really an enemy of his. You didn't work under any organisation or army. But you did certainly mess things up for him. When he saw what you did, he understood that his downfall was not your goal. Your little attack didn't even look like a threat.

Really, he was wondering what it was about for a while. One revolver and a sniper rifle missing. One man dead. Three injured. 30k missing. Something that he doesn't want to overlook but is not that big of a deal due to the size of Shadow Company.

He first thought that there was a spy amongst his men who was gathering some stuff to attack. What bugged him about the whole situation was that two weeks' worth of food had also gone missing.

He figured that the person who did this must have been only gathering supplies needed for survival. The harmed soldiers just got in the person's way. After this little incident he started noticing you more and more often.

He always figured it was you. You left black burn-like marks on the ground, and everyone was killed in a similar way. Graves didn't make connections between these two cases at first because he expected you to kill mostly with your sniper. After looking a little more into it tho. He realised that you always used your teeth or a knife and then finished the person off with a revolver. The same way you killed one of his men.

He was intrigued by you.

He got lucky when he spotted you after running into a freshly killed man. You were about 60 meters away already. Fortunately for him, you were heading into a forest near the spot where your killing took place. He knew that forest, so he ran around you to not make you aware of his presence.

Once in the forest, you felt someone was watching you. In your years of experience, you learned to trust your instincts. And that's exactly what you did. You tried to hide behind a wide tree. You were looking all over the place while not making a sound.

Suddenly, you heard his footsteps. You made a run for it. Bushes scratching the skin of your forearms, air drying up your eyes. You ran for your life. You heard him getting closer as you frantically thought of a way to get away from him.

Unfortunately, you didn't think fast enough.

He jumped at you, pinning you below him. "Asshole", he laughs, putting a gun to your head. "You stole 30k from me." He says almost threateningly. "What about the poor man I killed?" You questioned his morals. "He is replaceable." He said with a little guilt in his eyes. You thought about it he wasn't completely heartless. Maybe you'd be able to get out of this forest alive.

"You gonna shoot that thing?" You provoked him. "You want me to?" "You're talking like you want something." He chuckled, looking over your form. "You took a body from me. It'd be only fair if you'd give me one." He paused and then added. "Just for a couple of minutes."

"Exchanging lives for sex?" You were back to questioning his morals. "You want to live?" He said it in a teasing voice. "Sounds like we have a deal." You chuckled yourself at the situation you ended up in.

He tore your pants off of you while pulling his dick out. He held the gun to your head and kept pushing your body to the ground while thrusting into you. He was fucking deprived. You shoved no signs of resist.

He liked that. You took whatever he threw at you. I assure you he'd never go easy on you after what you pulled. He just fucked the shit out of you. He caught himself thinking about how adorable you looked. Tears in your eyes, your face pushed against the wet dirt and bark of the dark forest.

He wasn't planning on being nice with you. You looked so fucking dumb. His dick stretching you as he finished inside of you.

Be more aware of your surroundings and make sure no one is watching you when you leave the scene. He gave you a fucking advice when he left. Cocky asshole.

Strangely, he started noticing a certain sniper covering for him on his missions. How adorable.

[literaryavenger]

Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy - part 2

Summary: The Avengers of the Galaxy continue to bond.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I was trying something and this came out. I hope you like it, lol.

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Masterlist

It’s been a couple of days since the Guardians of the Galaxy landed on the Avengers compound’s lawn, Thor was still nowhere to be seen but you all seemed to be getting along just fine, going as far as having girls and boys night last night.

The guys showed Drax, Quill and Rocket how they like to spend a night of testosterone fueled competition while playing video games in the common room, eating junk food and drinking.

While you and the girls showed Gamora, Nebula and Mantis how you like to relax having a night of spa treatments, drinking wine and eating anything you wanted, gossiping and essentially making fun of the boys’ attitudes the guys had.

Groot started the night with the guys but apparently they started getting too rough and loud for his liking so he came to your room where all the girls were and enjoyed the rest of the night watching sappy movies and getting beauty treatments with you.

You couldn’t resist taking a picture when he wrapped himself with a napkin, rubbing some of the mud mask all over his face sloppily to look like you guys all wearing robes, making you all laugh and coo at how adorable he looked.

Everybody had a late night, barely getting any sleep, but having a lot of fun.

Now you’re all in the common room nursing various degrees of hangovers that even Bucky and Steve couldn’t escape after Tony pulled out Thor’s stash of Asgardian mead.

"All I’m saying is, aliens don’t seem to have too much regard for lawn maintenance." Tony says, making you all groan.

You were all tired of hearing him bitch about the lawn and you were definitely much too sleep deprived for it at the moment.

"Tony, I love you, but I really need you to shut the fuck up." Steve mumbles, not being used to hangovers, making us all gasp in surprise.

"Language, Rogers!" you say and he groans, throwing his head back while the rest of you laugh.

"Are you ever gonna drop that, Mrs Barnes?" you roll your eyes athim.

You and Bucky are nowhere near marriage but the blonde super soldier always has the time of his life teasing you about it.

"Aww, are you mad that I stole your boyfriend?" you fake pout at him.

"You know, Bucky and I were very happy before you came along." He fake glares at you, the rest of the team enjoying the banter they were used to at this point.

"I missed the part where that’s my problem, Captain Dumbass." You say smirking, but before Steve cam answer Quill cut in.

"Wow, she’s kind of awful when she’s hungover." you glare at him while everyone else laughs.

"She’s kind of awful when she’s not hungover, she’s just pretending for your benefit." Steve comments.

"You know what, Rogers?" Clint interrupts you before you can threaten Steve.

"Oh c’mon you know he’s right. Bucky for sure rubbed some of his grumpiness on you." you know they’re right so what’s the point in trying to deny.

You shrug ready to change the subject when Natasha chooses to contribute to the conversation.

"He definitely rubbed something on her." you almost choke on air.

"Natasha!" you hiss, struggling to keep your own face straight while all the girls start giggling.

"What? I didn’t say anything…" she says innocently and you can’t keep the laughter in anymore so you join them.

The guys all look at you like you’re crazy except for Tony, the genius playboy is definitely not as innocent as the rest of them.

"I don’t understand what’s going on." Peter says and the other guys nod in agreement.

You don’t exactly know how to explain it, not really wanting to discuss anything close to your sex life with Bucky with the whole group, so you look to the girls for help.

"It appears that terran women have rituals of honesty during their 'girls night's" Gamora offers, but it only leaves the guys even more confused, so Wanda takes it upon herself to say a simpler explanation "Girls talk about everything. Everything."

Slowly all the guys come to understand what she means, various degrees of embarrassment on their faces, while you and the girls laugh at their reactions.

"Wait, everything everything?" Tony questions, looking directly at Pepper.

"Every. Single. Thing." she says, maintaining eye contact, and the rest of you can't stop snickering at the guys’ dumbfounded faces.

While the guys continue their questioning to the other girls, Bucky leans in to whisper in your ear.

"So you’ve been telling the girls about our sex life, doll? I might have to punish you for that..." he can tell you’re trying hard to keep a straight face as you refuse to turn around to face him so he keeps teasing you.

"and you’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?" your eyes widen a bit before your expression goes back to neutral, but you're betrayed by the intense red your cheeks are turning, which does not go unnoticed.

"What’s wrong with you, why is your face all red?" Rocket almost yells, bringing the whole room’s attention on you, making you blush even more and giggle when Groot climbs on your shoulder to examine your cheek more closely.

"It’s nothing." you try to sound casual.

"And what’s wrong with you?" Rocket says and you hear Steve groaning before he answers.

He carefully chooses his words and addresses you and Bucky directly "Just so you know, I can hear Bucky whispering…"

your eyes snap up to him and you can see his face is turning red too, ever the innocent one and never ready to hear his best friend's dirty talk.

You look at Bucky who looks more amused at the situation than embarrassed and you let out a groan of your own before gettin up, Groot still on your shoulder.

"Where are you going, baby?" Bucky asks, stopping the others’ questioning of Steve about what he heard, all of them confused and amused, their attention back on you.

"I need more coffee. And a bath in holy water." you add looking at the girls, all of them knowing how dirty Bucky’s mouth can get, then you make your way to the kitchen.

"I’ll go make sure she’s alright." Bucky gets up and follows you, leaving the guys to try and make the girls let them in on the joke.

You put Groot down on the counter while starting the coffee machine and, while you wait, he makes you laugh by running around trying to catch a fly while making the most adorable little screams of battle.

You feel two arms wrap around your waist and Bucky’s head on your shoulder.

"You know Steve’s gonna think we’re fucking in the kitchen, right?" you say without looking away from Groot, making Bucky laugh.

"I just wanted to check on you." he says, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You turn around in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I’m okay." you kiss him on the lips "Steve may be traumatized now, though." this time you laugh with him.

"Do you really tell the girls everything?" he asks when your laughter dies down.

"I do, they’re my best friends. Also the world should know you fuck me hard and good." he smirks and is about to kiss you again when you hear someone clear their throat from the door.

You both turn towards the sound and see Steve standing there, face getting redder than Tony’s suit.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." you groan once more, hiding your face in Bucky’s chest while he smirks at Steve.

"I just wanted some water, but I’ll come back later..." Steve says and starts to turn away, but turns back around and says "Bravo, Buc-"

"No! out!" you cut in before he can finish while pointing at him then the door and he goes through it laughing.

You look back up at Bucky and the cheeky idiot is laughing too, you try to glare at him but can’t keep a straight face, especially when a little yell suddenly reminds you that Groot is there with you.

You turn around just in time to see him jump down the counter, his little hands over what you assume are his ears, running back into the living room while screaming his little heart out.

Yep, looks like Steve is not the only innocent baby you and Bucky traumatized today.

[devilmademewriteit]

completely inspired by a gif set u reblogged. Javi helping you into a bullet proof/tactical vest. you’re scared and he just says a gentle “arms up” as he secures the velcro. he’s scared as well, doesn’t wanna lose you, doesn’t want you to get hurt. but it’s like the fear, the adrenaline, has your emotions haywire and you look into his eyes as he takes hold of your hand so gently and tells you that you’re gonna be okay, and you just want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss you too, but then it’s time to go, and he tells you “later”

IDK WHAT THIS IS LMFAO Javi brings the slut outta me

you’ve inspired me anon here is a TINY FIC/DRABBLE YEEEEEEEE

pairing: javier peña x fem!afab!reader

warnings: fem!afab!reader; use of pet name ‘sweetheart’; canon-typical allusions to violence; language; ANGSTY POO

omg I can’t believe there’s no smut. GUYS I WROTE SOMETHING WITHOUT SMUT. I loooove writing my javi tho so while im busting my ass working on Salvatore part 3 feel so free to leave me lil thingies like this.

-em<3

—

“Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but—”

It was never supposed to be like this.

It was just a summer job — something safe, boring, admin and agendas and addendums. Should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city.

She should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city. Shit. My chest feels like it’s on fire, burnin’ through kerosene.

Is she gonna clock how unsteady I am?

Javi’s footsteps echo down the nearby hallway; you recognize them immediately, and their slanted, hard-right-drag-left rhythm. He comes lumbering through the door, cradling tactical gear between his big, bulging biceps. God, you’d had… thoughts about those biceps.

Even now, with the embassy under cartel-siege, it’s oh-so-hard to push away the x-rated daydreams swirling inside your stress-addled mind.

And he doesn’t look scared.

Fuck, she looks so scared.

“Here,” he says, extending the protective vest towards you. Gingerly peeling your hips off of the desk at your back, you extend your fingers to greet and grab at the rough, thick canvas. The sheer weight of it makes your heart lurch into your throat. Neither one of you lowers your hands.

The dark-green-death-sweater you’d seen him wear so many times, cursing yourself for registering, for caring about what it meant.

That it meant Peña — schmoozing, cocky, effortlessly crude Javier Peña — was going into the field.

So neither of you let go.

The stupid vest had always served as a kind of divining rod, leading you both to the real source of your constant bickering, your irritation and the look of mutual, unabashed worry you had shared as a soldier came bursting into the office, panting in tune with the sirens, carrying news of the currently unfolding attack.

Caring without meaning to.

Giving a shit without wanting to.

“I-“ you swallow, trailing off, cursing the swelling bubble forming at neck-breaking speed inside your throat, “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Of course she doesn’t. That one’s on me. ‘Thing like her should never have to wear one of these.

Shouldn’t even have to see one of these.

“S’okay,” he mutters, taking the burden of the gear into his hands, brow furrowing into a look of delicate responsibility. “Turn around.”

Under different circumstances, those words might’ve (embarrassingly enough) enticed a very different feeling from you.

Now, they were simply effective.

Acceding, you rotate, painfully slowly as every hair along your spine lifts, one after the other. Peña shuffles, adjusting both himself and the gear to stand close — too close — behind you.

“Arms up, sweetheart.”

You listen, dragging your arms up into the static air, trying to ignore the soft edge in his voice. It reminds you of something.

Something like resistance.

Stifled want.

Desire with a sock shoved down its bone-dry throat.

And it’s so level, so calm. How is he so calm?

Can she tell I’m totally freaking out?

Your shoulders sag under the weight of the vest. Jesus. It’s so much heavier than you’d imagined. Not quite as heavy as the feeling of doom settling over you, grief from the naive sense of safety you’d walked into work with.

Just this morning.

Javi busies himself with the Velcro, uncharacteristically silent. His knuckles brush the insides of your wrists, and you try to resist it — God, you really do — but all efforts to keep those prickling tears at bay are undertaken in vain.

You quiver slightly, face burning in shame.

Is she shaking?

Gentle, unusually gentle when his fingers wrap around your upper arm, spinning you around to face him once more.

“Look at me.”

You do. His shadowed eyes swim, dance, rage with experience, and you’re left envious, wishing that you’d hardened yourself to the world in the same way. How many times had this man woken up, driven to work, drunk his morning coffee and smoked his morning smoke, accepting that it could be his last?

Knowing Peña, he probably found ways not to think about it.

For sure, he didn’t think about it.

But you did.

Every time that vest came out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, alright?”

It’s an almost whisper, a mere brush of air against your brow. His own creases in earnestness as he utters the pledge.

“How can you do this for a living?”

You don’t mean for it to come out so rough and jagged, hissing for help like a neglected kettle on the stove. Javi offers you a smile of understanding as though remembering his own first time.

Then, before either of you can stop it, he places the flat of his palm to your cheek.

And you can’t keep from noticing how easily the calloused pad of his thumb molds to your complying skin.

“You get used to it,” he returns, and every word is coated, soaked in the sad, tragic truth. “Though this part’s always hard.”

Nothing exists beyond the smell of tobacco on his breath and the total absorption in his eyes. You’re sure the latter is mirrored in your own, too.

Timid, uneasy, begging him to ease the discomfort for you. “What part is this?”

The part where I lie to you. The part where I bubble-wrap the only thing in this country worth protecting into a shitty, almost useless accessory of war.

The part where I remember—

Is it the part where we remember how easily we could lose each other?

And we don’t even have each other, for God’s sake. Lookin’ up at me as if she can trust me, and the only thing I’ve been able to trust for years is that the moment will come, that moment where it all just gets to be too much and fuck—is this it? Maybe—

This is the part where we—

Kiss her, God, I just wanna fuckin’ kiss her—

Kiss?

“Peña! Time to move!”

Murphy’s voice slices — easily — through the tentative moment of uncertainty. It erodes the softness of Javi’s features into that familiar, hardened stone.

His hand drops from your face, but the tracings linger.

If you couldn’t trust the world outside, maybe you could trust Javi inside. Maybe he’d learned to live without something to lean on, but you weren’t yet prepared to go on—

She doesn’t know how much I fuckin’ need her. Or how many times I’ve tried to say it—and in so many ways—but every time I open my goddamn mouth it just comes out… wrong. Like it’s not enough. Like it’s not true that I can finally fuckin’ breathe when she’s… just… existing around me. Like losing her wouldn’t mean goin’ on—

Faithlessly. Radically accepting the confusing, overwhelming uncertainty of the world.

He clears his throat.

“I’ll see you after.”

Your gaze tumbles down, averting the twinge of dishonesty in his own at his promise.

“Yeah—yeah, see you after.”

He backs away without turning. For a moment, you think he’s gearing up to say something. Something like he always says, like, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, or use your head or maybe even a smile, sweetheart.

But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head, his dark hair tumbling around and exaggerating his hesitation. Although it hurts, you force yourself to watch as he walks away. How he bows his crown, brings a hand up to anxiously rub at the side of his jaw, the roundness of his shoulder responding and near-bulging under the blue cotton.

Admittedly, a kiss from Javier Peña would’ve been nice.

But to be cradled between those arms, wrapped up in him instead of the goddamn tactical gear squeezing, robbing the air from your lungs…

That would’ve been it.

When this is all over, you think to yourself.

And as Javi greets Steve, apologizing for the delay, the hand squeezing his gun feels strangely empty, haunted by the novelty of touching your burning skin.

When this is all over, he thinks to himself.

Anyways, isn’t that what faith is? Making plans for later, as if anyone’s ‘later’ is promised, a guarantee? As if either of you could count on tomorrow?

Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

Joining the gaggle of scared, hopeless government employees, desperate for reassurance, for the realization blooming inside the depths of your knowing; you pause, letting it hit you, translating it into words…

“—I have it.”

—

[torukmaktoskxawng]

through thick and thin

Pairing: Teylan/Gn!Sarentu!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for AFoP. Panic attacks, angst, trauma, mentions of grooming and abuse.

A/n: Another short idea I wrote up while playing AFoP

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter

~~~~~~~~~

He couldn't stop shaking.

The guilt and dread in his gut were too overbearing, clogging his lungs, and making it impossible to breathe. Every inch of his body shakes from adrenaline and fear, the weight of his actions crushing his chest.

Teylan has had panic attacks before, but this was the worst one.

And he wasn't sure if hearing your voice over the radio made it better or worse.

"Teylan? It's me."

Of course, it's you. You, the one who was closest to his age among the Na'vi children at TAP.

You, who stuck by his side whenever Mercer had beaten him.

You, who he had to wrap his little body around at night after losing Aha'ri when you were kids, terrified that he'd wake up and lose you, too.

You, who always brought something back for him from your travels to multiple clans, trying to help him get accustomed to your new way of life.

You, whose voice was full of concern and desperation, as you continued to talk through the radio when you didn't get a verbal response.

"Teylan. Talk to me. Where are you? I can come and bring you back to the Resistance."

He gulped in a small bit of air, realizing he had only been shakily breathing into the radio instead of speaking all his thoughts out loud, "No... Not there."

"Okay," you, ever the calming negotiator, tried to ease him into a sense of security, even without being able to see him, "Where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't matter," Teylan forces out even with tears running down his cheeks, "Nothing matters now."

"Everyone's worried about you, Teylan. I'm worried about you."

He bites back a sob, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest, "They're gonna be angry. You'll hate me, too. I did this."

"You can't blame yourself," you whispered gently through the radio, only strengthening his guilt.

Another sob shatters through him, "But I am to blame. He said nobody would die. He said."

"Who said?"

He couldn't help it, he kept talking, unable to stop spilling out all his sins, "We talked on my radio. He told me we could be together again. Like a family. And so, I told him when the party was happening."

"Wait. Mercer?" You finally realize what Teylan was trying to say, and he winced when he heard the tone of quiet disbelief in your voice, "You told Mercer things about us?"

"He needed to know when to arrive, so he could keep the soldiers away."

It wasn't an excuse. He just needed to reason with himself into believing this was all just some misunderstanding, or better yet, just a bad dream. He wasn't trying to convince you, just himself. He needed to feel convinced that he wasn't about to lose you for his betrayal.

"Let me come get you." 'To take you back to the people you betrayed.'

He wasn't sure if you actually said that or he imagined it. Nevertheless, it burned through his chest like a bullet, eyes widening with the most terrifying realization. He lost you. He lost you... helostyouhelostyouhelostyou--

"No. I don't belong there anymore. I have nobody now."

"Teylan? Teylan!"

He cut off the call.

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[helplessautomaton]

Could I request tecchou with prompts 3 and 12? Thank you I love your work!

3 (“don't you see? I'm the only one who really cares for you”) + 12 (“please.. just let me hold you.”)

sorry for the long wait, i realize that i, in fact, have drafts that need to get done! anyways hope you enjoy this, its currently 3:30 am and my head hurty

no TWS i can think of, i think, maybe idk

Life wasn't exactly in the cards for you and anyone close to you knew that well. Your mood reflected every bit of frustration. However you tried your best to look up in the worst of it all, it's that or to the grave you go. Your poor lip had been picked at so many times, the blood staining your nails. You wondered if the skin would ever stop healing. Afterall, what's one public display of terrorism on your way to work caused by who knows, gonna do to ruin your already shit year? That's right, bring Tecchou Suehiro into it because you wanted to be heroic against your body’s wishes. It was alright for a while, he talked to you a far bit longer than the rest of the victims of the attack. You jokingly took pride in his coworker’s comment about Tecchou spending just a little longer on you. The letters came frequently, more so legal nonsense with “support” mentioned in them, then there was one from Tecchou. The name didn't click originally and the letter was almost discarded had you not kept reading down. He thanked you for your bravery and how much it takes, rolling your eyes but it did make you smile. 

Applauding you for what you did that day kept circling back in your mind, something to latch onto with a heart barely full of pride. The legal letters stopped but tecchou’s letters did not, after the third letter, you wondered why he even bothered scouting out your address. Everything you felt was now sinking down into the dark blues of regret in your mind. Then the letters were not enough so he came in physically, a little cafe date then to a restaurant, then something bigger. It all became just a little too much then way too much. You used to not notice the way he would make sure you were physically okay, but you followed his eyes carefully. His questions about your health did get annoying and not comforting like they used to be. People who used to check in stopped, like they were scared but you never knew why. You got a hint that Tecchou’s behavior towards you affected his line of work. The white haired man who scoffed at Tecchou’s extended talk with you that fateful day was the same man yelling loudly at him. Forcefully taking the infatuated soldier with him while giving you mixed signals on how he felt about you, Tecchou’s expression went blank in his coworkers grasp. 

The last person you talked to got exposed for horrible things, you only found out by Tecchou. Your world was falling apart in a weird way and you didn't even know why anymore. The man in question only tilted his head at your quickly distressed face, you forgot why he was even with you today. He tried to comfort you but you resisted in your scrambled up mind. Tecchou let out a sigh before speaking up, “don't you see? I'm the only one who really cares for you, i deeply care for you,” He said your name with such care in love but you were too deep in mental turmoil to even realize it. Tears quickly spouted from your eyes, while you cried out on why this was happening to you, why everyday was such a horrible day. You barely felt Tecchou’s figure try to hold you before you pulled away, your hands covering your face as you still cried. Trying to sit down on the floor but Tecchou refused to let you sink down, still desperately wanting to hold you. “please..just let me hold you. I want you to be okay.” Why can't you have an okay year?, why couldn't you have friends that weren't such horrible people? Why did it have to be you that people were afraid of? Why out of anyone did you decide to play hero? The only person who had stayed was Tecchou, it was always Tecchou. 

So just this time, let him hold you.