#but this is still guttural on so many levels

[sporkberries]

Batman(1940) #629

I dont really know what to say other than god damn this is brutal.

The Insight into Bruce’s mind and thoughts on Jason and how he fears him is interesting but still

[lola-writes]

One-Eye & the Dreamer

(Aemond's POV)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x O.C Aylana Velaryon

Word Count: 2,2k

Themes & Warnings: slow burn, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, violence, blood, targcest, sexual themes, tension, drama, angst, fix-it of sorts, eventual smut, sexual inexperience, forbidden love, high valyrian, dance of dragons, POV first person

Summary: Aylana Velaryon foresees Aemond Targaryen's fate and assigns herself to alter it.

Written from Aemond's POV.

More chapters

Gravity had nothing on us, my dear. 

You can’t untie red strings of fate. 

This is how it feels to fall in love with the atmosphere. 

The world surrendered to a symphony of wind.  Turbulence thundered in my ears and whipped my hair untamed as I ascended the skies. Rising higher and higher, the clouds enveloped me in a blinding haze, and the elements of the earth below decreased into a mosaic. I conquered the celestial at such speed that I felt like Aegon reborn. 

Vhagar was an extension of myself, her undulating muscles beneath my straddling body felt as if connected to my own, forcing our masses through the heavens with an effortlessness. I commanded her higher still, and she heeded my command. We defied gravity in a dance of grace and power.

As we approached the stratosphere where air ran thin, I straightened in my saddle, and my mighty Vhagar leveled out, conforming to every delicate change in my movements. The world below became an inverted dreamscape as we sailed the vague interstice that marked the transition between sky and oblivion - the clouds beneath were the unconquered sky, and the indigo above was the ocean, and I was flying upside down. 

Together, Vhagar and I, were limitless.

The memory of when I first claimed her was so potent it eclipsed everything else, real or imagined. It was like walking penniless and finding a mountain of gold at your feet. What was one to do with such power? A power so raw and exhilarating, it consumed. Suddenly, I had no fear. Suddenly, I was not alone…

I leaned into Vhagar’s warmth and she folded her wings against me. We plummeted back down towards the earth, a thrilling drop that sent a jolt of pure ecstasy through my veins. My stomach lurched, and beneath me, Vhagar’s thorax vibrated – a deep, primal roar that resonated through my very bones. In that moment, I mirrored her, a guttural exclaim of pure, unadultered joy escaping my lips.

Never had freedom tasted so sweet.

The force of our descent sliced through the nebulous clouds like a knife through cotton, and as we emerged, the Narrow Sea gaped wide, glittering beneath the noontide sun like a crystal embellished blue silk. I leveled out again and watched Vhagar’s twin loom out of the water. 

In the distance, the seven huge drum-towers, proud sentinels of pale red stone, rose out of the sea on their stony summits, and the tolling bells welcomed me back home. An unfamiliar fleet of ships coasted down Black Water Rush like wooden beads along a blue mesh - an unremarkable observation, as nobles from every corner of the realm had been descending upon King’s Landing for the wedding. They had all come through the gates by horse and carriage, none by sea. 

Traders perhaps? Coming just in time to fortify our stores for the upcoming plunder. 

So many fucking mouths to feed. I had seen them endlessly pour through the castle gates in a river of gold, silver, and polished steel – their banners displaying the sigil of house Lannister, Baratheon, Tully, and I could’ve sworn I saw a direwolf banner among them. Would the Starks truly find a Targaryen wedding of such importance that they would bother dragging themselves out of their frozen pits? It was to be a grand affair, to be sure. A celebration with tourneys, hunts, feasts, and dancing, to last for at least a fortnight.

If I had it my way, I would escape and race the wind on Vhagar. But mother’s orders were a bittersweet curse. We were to be on our best behavior, a euphemism for me babysitting my nuisance of a brother, to ensure he does not imbibe every wine cask in the keep, and to hearten my sweet sister who always grew gauche in social gatherings. 

One could hardly fathom I was the youngest.

But the chief of my worries was Aegon. He already had an inclination of getting unreasonable drunk on a plain day. I shuddered to think of the lengths he might go to in tribute to his own nuptials.

Unease filled my gut.

But it wasn’t the vigil of my siblings that rendered me apprehensive.

As I drew close enough that I could make out the banners, I realized that these were no ordinary trading ships. In fact, these weren’t traders at all. I tugged at the reins and Vhagar gathered air beneath her leather and sprung up high, casting her mighty shadow atop the vessels. 

Memories consumed me like a bad aftertaste. The sigil-emblazoned sails draped across the masts below needed no introduction. The seahorse and the three-headed black dragon caught the wind. 

It could only mean one thing…

The thought got knocked right out of me as a bone-jarring impact to Vhagar’s thorax threw me off my saddle. Her earsplitting roar resounded across the blackwater, as I tumbled down her back. Instinctively, I snagged my wrist through a loop in her saddle ropes, dangling precariously until she steadied herself. I hauled myself back up, heart hammering in my chest, adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream. I scouted the skies for an attacker in a glassy bewilderment, growing acrimoniously aware of my disability. But the firmament was still and empty. 

What in the Seven Hells?

Another blow. It knocked me aslant, and I felt fury consuming me like poison. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the saddle horn and twisted the reins twice ‘round my forearm, and perceived every muscle of Vhagar’s back contracting beneath me, waiting to charge. 

Who would dare challenge me?

A flicker of movement caught my eye. A shape, shrouded beneath Vhagar’s wing membranes, was soaring alongside us. And when I turned to look, my eye met a stranger, masked and cloaked, stalking us on a dragon as black and swift as a raven. But the beast was miniscule in relation, just the age to breathe fire, and yet had nearly forced me to meet the gods. 

Humiliation morphed into a blinding rage that seethed through my veins and marred my vision with a red mist. “Ossēnagon, Vhagar!” Kill. I growled, and steered her toward the trespasser. But the figure crouched down in their saddle, and their dragon dove towards the city. 

Fucking craven.

We went after them. Their descent was swift and inaudible, while mine was slow and thunderous like a moving mountain. The pale orange rooftops of King’s Landing, bleached from the summer’s scorching sun, spread out like a vast rust beneath our darkening shadows. I pursued them to the Hill of Rhaenys, where we landed opposite each other outside the crypts of the dragonpit. 

Dismounting, I started towards them, each step a measured threat. The steel of my dagger sang its lethal warning as I drew it from my scabbard. But the stranger stood their ground, defiance flickering in their shadowed form. My anger, already a simmering cauldron, boiled over. I closed the distance between up, a growl ripping from my throat, raw and primal.

“You!” The word barely a breath before my blade bit their throat. A desperate struggle ensued, but my palm collared the nape of their neck, locking them to the steel. A Kingsguard’s alarming exclaims sounded in the distance, but the words faded underwater. 

“The Stranger requests an audience.” The contiguity drowned my voice into a whisper. I took pleasure in that I towered over them, and felt their hot, humid breath against me, hitching beneath the sharp edge.

“My prince!” Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, came running towards us. His voice, booming like thunder, always sufficed in snapping the whole court to attention. But it wasn’t his timber which stirred me this time. “Let her go!” 

His words carried me out of my raging inferno.

Her?

I blinked through my apprehension and scavenged the stranger’s frame with my eye, as if I’d awoken from a dream and seen them for the first time. A tug, a rustle, and their hood fell back and settled around their shoulders. 

A wave of ice ran down my spine. 

It was like seeing a ghost. The protagonist of all my nightmares coming alive, ready to haunt me. 

Aylana Velaryon.

Her eyes, the color of sunlit amber flicked with gold, held mine with an unsettling intensity. She seemed to see right through me, demanding answers I could not provide. Then, a knowing smile played on her lips.

“Skoros iksos pirta, kepus?” What’s wrong, uncle? A sardonic edge laced her voice. “Gaomagon ao daor gīmigon issa?” Do you not remember me?

The words hit me like a physical blow. I swallowed, stunned by her High Valyrian.

For a moment, I believe I stood petrified, unable to tear my gaze from her, unable to utter a word.

A torrent of questions, accusations, apologies – years of unspoken turmoil – churned within me. But now, with her life literally in my hands, the words deserted me. My tongue, usually an agile weapon, felt like lead. This was the person who had haunted my every waking and sleeping thought for years, and all I could manage was a stunned silence. Perhaps my countenance spoke volumes where my voice failed.

She echoed the girl I remembered, but time had woven its changes. I had to take it all in. Her voice, saccharine and laced with a hint of mockery, was a stark contrast to the playful child I held in memory. Her once youthful features had sharpened, cheekbones higher, lips fuller. Then, my gaze, fell upon the one jarring element – a crimson scar that snaked across her left eyebrow, expressing a raw pink sheen beneath a shell of transparent skin. Years had passed, yet the wound looked fresh.

The accident.

My jaw tightened as venom seethed through my veins.

I could still see her crumpled, lifeless form in the dirt, her skull cracked open, every time I closed my eye.

And I was holding the bloody rock.

Shame coiled in my gut like a suffocating weight. I could not bear to look at her.

“Some things never change,” she said facetiously. “Don’t you agree, uncle?”

Shit.

I was still holding my knife to her throat. I recoiled with such force that the effort pushed her back as well. A bright seam of red welled up at the lip where my blade had kissed her and painted the length of her neck like dark fruit. 

I reviled myself. I had tried to kill her. Again. 

But she just smiled, a dimple flashing in her cheek. As if we were still kids and she had made a humorous jest.

I realized I had been holding my breath when a gasp escaped my lips and air rushed back into my lungs. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy.

“Aylana.” I spoke her name derisively without intending to, as I sheathed the knife at my waist where my gaze lingered a moment, dreading to meet hers. 

My stomach turned. I never used to call her that. It sounded so formal and distant on my tongue, just like ‘uncle’ on hers. But that’s what we were to each other now - our friendship no more than a distant memory. I no longer assumed myself worthy of her alias. I had lost that privilege. Just as I had lost my friend. 

The weight of the past pressed down on me, suffocating.

Agitation infiltrated my mind and my whole disposition must have come off as reticent and hostile. I watched her pull her gloves off finger by finger and release the clasp of her cloak. There was an attitude in her movements and a poise in her posture. Beneath she was dressed in sable flying leathers that clung tightly to her body. 

I averted my gaze. 

Frustration clawed at my chest, and whatever other feeling it was that made my mouth dry and my palms clammy. 

“You look well, nuncle,” she said. 

My eye met hers and I noted them briefly flicker across my eyepatch. Her scrutiny made the leather singe my skin with awareness. Growing diffident, I looked away. 

“Hmmph,” I said, my favorite expression of disdain. 

I knew what she was implying. That if I had only listened to her that night, instead of acting like an arrogant scoundrel, I wouldn’t be looking like a eunuch with one eye at present.

And she was right in mocking me. If her insults were the currency for my betrayal, I would gladly become a spendthrift.

My breathing shallowed as I gazed at the damage I’d caused. I had to get out of there. 

“I hope we did not frighten you earlier,” she said, interrupting my escape. “I only thought I might test the mettle of the largest dragon in the world. She truly is remarkable. A fair exchange, to be sure.” 

I turned to look at her, and I didn’t know what I must’ve looked like, because the playful smile that had been dancing between her lips our entire encounter, vanished. There it is, I thought. The realization. The Aemond you knew is gone. This is the monster you forged.

“Ser Harrold,” I said. “Escort the princess to the Red Keep. And make sure she does not test the mettle of anyone else in the city.”

“Certainly, my prince,” said Ser Harrold, the Lord Commander who was the very first person to see my face after the loss of my eye. This fact made him remarkably significant somehow.

I mounted Vhagar and took to the sky, watching Aylana and Nymax blur into mere specks on a canvas. 

This would be a celebration I was sure to remember…

More chapters

[marvelnatswhore]

Harmless desires

Wanda-nat X fem reader~smut

WC: 2k

Warnings: heavy degradation, strap on use, a little praise, humiliation, mommy kink I cant help it) slight throat fucking, sub/dom and squirting.

a/n: this was going to be for a request but i went a little differently with it so i'll be doing another soft fic for the poll & ask soon!

I hate this but i'm still posting it because i have too many wips to finish </3

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Wanda and Natasha had been fairly discreet with the settings all day, just a gentle buzz between your thighs that had you shuffling in your chair and biting your lip. That all ended as soon as the meeting started and they moved it up enough to have you squirming in your seat. The gentle buzz was long gone and it now felt like the world was splitting apart right between your legs.

Steve was talking, you had no clue what about and locked eyes with your smirking girlfriends across from you, pleading with them to turn it down. A moment more and you knew you couldn’t stay composed. 

“Well y/n?” A voice called, grabbing your attention. It was Steve asking you something. You racked your brain for a response but it was useless, the vibrations were the only thing you mind could focus on. 

“Something wrong y/n?” Wanda asked sweetly, her eyes flashing that shit eating grin you knew she was hiding. 

They loved seeing you like this, fighting with yourself to not just give into the pleasure they were providing and beg them for mercy. It seemed now the entire room was watching you for a response. You managed to cough out something about being fine and thankfully the attention was brought back to the matter at hand. 

You were able to stay composed long enough to listen to Steve talk, not that you could focus on anything he said, and you were starting to think you could make it to the end of the meeting. But your girlfriends wouldn’t have that.

You moved slightly in your chair and the vibrator pressed flush against your sweet spot, turning up a few too many levels. You just couldn't help it, the sensation was too much and your head fell against the desk in a poor attempt to hide yourself, you bit your lip pressing your legs together and clenching your jaw, pleading with yourself not to let a sound slip. 

To your surprise the vibrations quickly turned down, back to the low buzz that almost had you crying with relief. You couldn't bear to look up knowing all eyes were on you.

It wasn’t a moment more when you felt two hands on your shoulders. Just from the light touch you knew who it was; you listened to Natasha comment something about you not feeling well and excuse the three of you from the room.

She bent down to your ear and in a guttural tone whispered,

 “Up.”

 It sent a cold shiver down your spine and to the growing wet patch under your skirt. You followed her orders, not daring to look at anyone on your way out, her hand stayed firm to your shoulder, squeezing harder than necessary while Wanda's gentle touch wrapped around your waist. 

As soon as you were out of earshot and prying eyes the vibe between your thighs turned right back up. you gasped, groaning as Wanda and Natasha held you up and walked you down the compound. 

“You were such a slut today.” You heard Wanda whisper and her hand grabbed your ass harshly. Natasha laughed at the whimper you gave, you knew your panties were completely soaked through and your arousal was starting to stick to your thighs. Not that you needed another reminder of how hopelessly wet they’d made you.

You reached the door to Natasha and Wanda’s office, Wanda opened it and locked it quickly behind you all. You felt a sense of fear wash over you and before you could process anything you were being shoved down onto a large desk in the centre of the room. The cold surface was like a slap in the face and you were suddenly aware of what would follow. 

You heard Natasha whisper something incoherent to Wanda before she moved behind you, practically feeling the grin on her face when she lifted your skirt to see your soaking panties.

“Already so wet for us? baby, we haven't even started.”

All you could do was moan as Natasha brought her fingers to your cunt. Pressing teasingly on the vibe still in your panties and rubbing your clit. 

Suddenly her hand came down on your ass, you yelled out at the sensation which only seemed to make her madder, her hand came down again, harder this time. You were sure it was going to leave a mark. 

“The louder you are the more this is going to hurt Detka, you should think about behaving before Mommy has to do something…worse.” 

Wanda was in front of you now, she cupped the side of your face lovingly when Natasha delivered another slap, making you whimper.

“Enjoy that, pet?” She cooed, moving back to pull down her pants that revealed your favourite strap, how you didn’t notice the bulge in her pants was beyond you.

“Well? Answer me.”

“y-yes, mommy.” You whispered in a soft voice. 

 “Good girl, now open.” Without another word the tip was parting your lips and she pushed the length into your mouth making you groan. 

Natasha’s fingers slipped into your panties, pulling them off you without a second thought for where they landed as she removed the vibe. She pushed two fingers through your drenched folds and groaned at how easily your hips bucked to meet her.

“Such a desperate thing; I bet you want your mommys to fuck you, hmm?.”

You moaned around the strap now brushing your gag reflex, nodding your head with an urgency. 

“Pathetic, if you want something, you beg for it.” Her hand came down in another sharp smack, this time grazing your pussy.

You weren't going to argue and Wanda pulled her strap from your mouth making you gasp. 

“Please mommy I want you to fuck me- I want you fingers, please make me cum” 

“How cute, Nat. I think she really wants it.” Wanda teased, pushing the strap back into your mouth with a groan. 

“If she wants it that badly she should have behaved.” 

another smack.

You were beyond desperate, the proof nearly running down your thighs and burning in your cheeks. If the hours of teasing they had put you through before wasn’t bad enough, this was torture.

Natasha’s hand moved softly over your reddening skin, admiring the marks she made. She leaned in close enough to feel her warm breath on your cunt. 

“You want it, don't you?” 

It was barely a whisper but it made your head spin, you nodded around Wanda's strap that she began bobbing playfully in your mouth. 

Natasha spread your lips with two fingers, swiping her tongue through your folds, making you gasp and your hips buck only to be slammed back down a moment later. 

“Don't go thinking you have any control, whore.” She growled, her tongue was doing you no favours, only teasing you further as she lapped at your cunt, collecting your arousal and sucking on your clit.

“Mommy-” 

“Don't worry about her, darling.” Wanda cooed with a sweet smile, cupping your cheek and abruptly thrusting her cock to the back of your throat, making you choke. 

She mused watching the drool run from your mouth and the strained groans you gave. Even with the pounding in your head and agonising teasing from Natasha you couldn't ignore how turned on it all made you.

Natasha pulled away from you heat for a moment and you let out a strangled gasp as Natasha pushed two fingers into your cunt and began thrusting carelessly, sucking your clit and lapping at your juices. 

Wanda removed her strap again, letting you breathe as your voice became a series of short whimpers and moans, watching the innocent fear in your eyes turn into filthy lust as Natasha started fucked you, sinking her fingers deeper and quicker.

“Nat-” You moaned, feeling yourself squeeze around her digits working you. 

“Try again, sweetheart.” Natasha answered. 

“Mommy-” You whined loudly as she curled into your sweet spot.

“Yes, baby?” She was playing dumb with you now.

“Please, can I cum?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re close already-” 

You groaned in response letting your head fall forwards, as you felt that familiar coil tighten in your gut.

“Please” You whined and you felt yourself about to come undone on Natasha’s hand, sucking in a breath when she suddenly stopped. She removed her fingers from your pussy and you felt tears instantly welling in your eyes as Wanda's hand came to wipe them. 

“Mommy-” You sobbed pitifully at the sudden emptiness and your ruined orgasm.

“Kitten, you’ve been such a brat today and that little scene you caused at that meeting? I wouldn’t be a good mommy if I just let you come.” 

Wanda and Natasha exchanged knowing glances and you looked up at Wanda with pleading eyes, she chuckled cupping your cheek with a knowing look. Her cute little toy, so desperate to be fucked. 

You barely had time to breathe before Wanda was arranging herself behind you and her soft hands squeezed your ass. You cowered at the touch still feeling beyond sensitive from Natasha, her hand moved lower cupping your cunt and she moaned feeling how wet you were. 

“Mommy-” You muttered in a mess of pleasure and lust. Wanda feigned a pout at you, taking your swollen clit between her fingers. “Aw princess, do you want Mommy’s cock?”

You nodded, groaning as Natasha slipped her thumb into your mouth and you took it obediently, sucking it as she stroked your hair, admiring you below her. 

“Such a filthy thing, you just want to be your mommys little fuck toy, don’t you?” 

You nodded at her, consumed in the subspace they’d put you in, before you felt the tip of Wanda’s strap rubbing your entrance. 

Wanda pulled your hips against her own, sinking the tip into you before bringing you down on the rest of her cock. You moaned pathetically, gasping as Wanda pulled out the length only to thrust it back in with more force, finding a quick pace that made your eyes roll back.

“You love this attention don't you? I know that pretty pussy does, it’s practically begging me to fuck it.” 

The stretch was almost unbearable but the feeling filled you with ecstasy; Wanda hardly had to fuck you before you were on the edge, tears filled your eyes and you knew you were going to cum, whether you wanted to or not.

“I’m gonna- mm” You could hardly speak as Wanda fucked you, words turned into pitiful moans and you were certain you couldn't take anymore.

“C,mon pretty girl, make mommy wet.” With a final slam you climaxed, wanda pulled out as you came and your juices squirted over her strap, leaving you breathless and destroyed. 

It took a long while for you to come to your senses, but you were grateful when you did. And soft hands guided you up. 

“You did so well, kitten.” Wanda whispered, placing a kiss on your temple as you hummed in response, too exhausted to say anything. "That's it, good girl." Natasha cooed, stroking your hair behind your ear.

"Our good girl."

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

Omegaverse MHA/BNHA Poll Result: Katuski Bakugo

Implied female reader (specifically female Omega). Mentions of abuse, language, blood, rape, assault, cannibalism and mating.

With the uprising of villains, the Heroes of the world have congregated in a secure and highly secretive location with several country heads and Top Hero Ranking Holders of the World in the room; Japan, US, Persia, China, there are heroes from everywhere within this one room under the same roof. The room is large, considering square footage, but the sheer volume of bodies within those four walls quickly made it feel too small. Males of various body shapes were stuffed within this conference styled gathering space with various tables, chairs, and a podium; large, small, lithe, muscular, thin lean, mutant characteristics, nearly every type was represented within this room from the different countries of the world. Wolves, hyenas, lions, goats, boars…at least one member of every genus group was present. Nowadays those were rare since bloods had mixed or migrated so pure bloods were difficult to come by. However that didn’t dismiss that the power of Alphas was evolving with the times. Deep, guttural instinct lived deep within each male in existence. It was now a choice of just how much those traits were awakened and used. Having so many Alphas within such a small space was a ticking bomb though but the reason they had been summoned was one of great importance.

“The answer is simple: we need more heroes!” The statures Alpha from China barks loudly, his fist impacting the table in front of him; the scent of raw meat coming off of him that made those nearby wrinkle their noses slightly since it wasn’t the freshest. “We cannot keep losing our strongest to the villains without proper replacements or support!”

Another Alpha, a heavier set man wearing Presidential Medals and Honors from the US, snarls beneath his breath with growing anger than manifests within his rising volume as the air around him becomes tainted with fryer grease. “And what do you suggest we do about it, hm? Only Omegas can birth Supers and your country spread the green light to hunt them down to extinction level! Now there are no Omegas for anyone! Way to go, you morons!”

“Enough!”

Silence falls as a single figure moves to stand at the room, looking out across the Alphas who ranged in age and genus pool.

The man is ordinary looking, none were capable to distinguishing of which niche he belonged to, however there was an air about him that exhumed seriousness and a demand for cooperation. He rubs his forehead as silence slowly falls when silence slowly falls. “The reason we have issued a global meeting of this caliber is because there is still hope for a solution.”

In the very back of the room an Alpha hero from Egypt smelling of water lily incense leans over to speak in a whisper to the young blond Alpha from Japan who looked to be bored out of his mind. “How much you want to bet they want to do splicing or DNA transference, friend?” He rumbles with a roll of his eyes, not expecting an answer as he rights himself within his seat.

An unamused expression crosses the blond’s face, features settling into a resting scowl as he glares at the man leading the assembly meeting with narrowed red eyes. ‘Why was he even here?’ he couldn’t help but question internally. All Might had made it seem like a high honor of some sort, a challenge even, but ever since he got here there’s been only yada-yada while sitting around like a bunch of slugs! The tapping of his finger against his thigh conveyed his slow ascent into the upper range of his temper which was beginning to grow with each passing second. The hero known as “Dynamight” is an Alpha of a high temperament, lean yet powerful body, battle IQ on par with some of the older ones present, red eyes blazing from beyond the black mask covering his upper face, blond hair sticking upright in various directions.

Clasping his hands behind his back, the assembly head begins to walk from one side of the room to the other. “I’ve called you specific Alpha Heroes here today because of your genetics and genes would be most valuable in the future. As you may have noticed, all of you are also unpaired or undated up to this point, which was a requirement for what we wish to accomplish.”

The Explosive Hero scoffs beneath his breath. No wonder none of his other acquaintances were here; Midoriya was just beginning a relationship with the Beta Ochaco Uraraka, Todoroki has been offered several marriage interview proposals, don’t even get him started on Kaminari or Sero, then Kirishima recently started seeing a little foreign exchange female hero who was training beneath one of the elder Japanese heroes. Just him had been selected for this…fan-fucking-tastic.

“As the Alpha President from America has reminded us all today, only Omegas can bring Supers into the world with quirks and abilities that could be revolutionary. He has also brought up the subject of how those same Omegas were hunted to extinction.” The assembly head takes a deep inhale before continuing, a screen popping up behind him that has shaky footage of Omega hunts that used to take place all across the globe. Screams filled the air courtesy of the speakers, cries for help and various distress calls intermixing as the Omegas within the footage beg and plead for their lives. And yet not one was spared as each fell by weapon or fang or claw. “From the United States all the way to Russia to the South Pole to Canada, not a single Omega has been seen in well over ten years. They were tortured, beaten, raped then eventually devoured or killed in hunts…we know the horrors though we don’t let the public see the true extent of the truth. They simply think that these attacks were done by outbreaks of villains alone when, in fact, they were conducted then carried out by Alphas and the other niches who joined in the hunts. Alphas of this day and age carry this burden of knowledge most.” A wave of his hand turns off the screen as he fixes the assembly with a stare. “In ten years, I myself have never thought another Omega would ever be seen...but I was wrong.”

Pupils of every person present suddenly shrink as a unified conclusion was drawn before the man finished. And an uproar instantly takes the room, spreading chaos and exclamations from animalistic to manmade noises. Some were positive, a clear want and need to make amends for the crimes of the past, others were enraged or excited as if they were looking forward to partaking in similar events.

He remains calm though, raising his hands and asking for silence. “She was rescued from a villain bunker where they had been hiding her for the last ten years. None of us can fathom what they did to the poor girl and that’s where you all come in.” His spine straightens as the Alphas before him slowly return to their seats. “Omegas respond to their packs or fated mates no matter what state of mental or physical condition they are. And that’s why we have called you all here. She has been unable to speak a word or eaten a single thing since entering my team’s care. Her health is compromised at this point and the world cannot afford to lose the possible last Omega it has. The world needs Supers if the heroes are to have any chance against the villain uprisings.”

An Alpha hero from Madagascar smelling of spiced vanilla and dressed in various leaves stands with a growl, eyes narrowed. “This is an outrage! You’re expecting us to just throw ourselves at this Omega and hope for the best that we are some miraculous cure for her trauma while saving the world at the same time?! This is nothing short of Forced Breeding!”

“Think of the Omega! She deserves more than being thrown into a hole then forced to procreate just for the sake of birthing Supers!” Another Alpha bellows, this one from Argentina who gives off the scent of citrus.

Finally done with sitting back, the blond Alpha hero from Japan raises his hand to unleash an explosion that causes the entire room to shake then fall silent, his red eyes glaring at the man. “Everyone, shut the hell up and let the damn man finish. They would’ve done that by now but look around…she’s not here. Meaning there’s something else. So sit down…shut up…and listen.”

Grateful for the intervention, the man bows his head respectfully then addresses everyone in the room. “We would never suggest such a thing as Forced Breeding.” The man hurries to assure as other Alphas begin to voice their anger. “No mating will be pressured upon anyone and no one will get hurt in the process. If this were to fail, they we would resort to artificial insemination with those who are willing to offer their samples. And the young Alpha from Japan proves a valid point: she is not here. We have to take her fragile health into consideration right now. You and the young female all have a say in this matter. However we cannot simply just introduce her to you all with her current health status. So, we have a way to gauge on how you chosen Alphas will react by using this.”

Murmurs rise when he holds up a vial of clear liquid, the lights within the room catching upon the small container.

“This here is a collection of her pheromones turned into a liquid state. Those who are compatible will react positively and can be allowed to continue to the next step towards meeting her with supervision. Those who react negatively will be excused and required to leave, sworn to secrecy so that none may know of her existence.” He sighs softly when several voice questions and raises his hands. “The most we can ask for is an acceptance or gravitational pull. Simply allow your instincts to guide you; doesn’t matter how. Honesty is what we are looking for.”

Red eyes narrow further when someone asks what would be considered a negative response. He just wanted to get this over with so he could go back home to Japan. Arms crossed, he leans back in his chair so the front legs are in the air as he huffs beneath his breath.

“Any hostile action that can be considered an attack whether of the hunting or feeding kind will not be tolerated or considered for this.” The man grows serious as he stares at each Alpha in turn while raising the vial. “Those who wish to leave, do so now. I’m about to open it.”

Call it curiosity, or boredom, the blond from Japan remains seated. Might as well stick around since he’d gotten a free trip all the way out here. A small smirk raises his lips. Plus, the entertainment he’d get from watching these others would give him an insight to the competition from other nations. So far, he’s been unamused since there had been no fighting or altercations, but this could still be interesting to say the least. He remains sitting as one third of the room empties, his red eyes remaining locked upon the vial that is being showcased.

The man glances around once more as his fingers prepare to remove the stopper. “Ready?”

Everyone present nods or makes a sound of approval.

A faint hiss sounds when the airtight seal is released…and the effect is instantaneous as the pheromones within the vial quickly fill the room. Sweet yet not…spicy yet tame…filling the minds of those who were within the room with images of shifting colors like a kaleidoscope.

The man holding the vial slowly starts to walk around the assembly room, carefully watching each Alpha he passes. First starting the farthest side of the room then gradually getting closer to where a certain blond explosionist hero sat as the chair he was seated within shifts so all four of its legs were upon the floor.

He’s never smelled something like this before. No one he knew of back home had a scent even comparable to this. The tapping finger upon his thigh slows to a stop as every thought process within his mind becomes silent. In then out his breathing remained steady, a few times his red eyes closed for a few seconds then opened once more. Oddly enough the high temperament Alpha from Japan was feeling…calm. Even when the vial went past, he remained passive and dare he say peaceful. No one would recognize him in this state he’d been rendered to as his red gaze closely watched the vial’s liquid that shifted within the light.

Already most of those gathered have been removed when the vial had come close enough for them to exhibit “negative” behavior as the air fills with subtle growls or rumbles from those who remained. There was only a dozen left by the time the man placed the stopper back on the vial, his brows raised as he carefully looks to see who is left. “Alright, Alphas who are left, tell me how you are feeling. I see a handful of you are still here and reacting favorably. Don’t be shy.”

One by one each spoke of how the pheromones had caused them to feel possessive or want to claim the owner of those pheromones; natural responses as well as honest. That’s what the man had asked for. His gaze shifts over to the last who had yet to speak, the blond hero from Japan who wore a near confused expression on his face, waiting patiently for the young Alpha to speak.

“I…I felt calm. Peaceful, even, which is saying a lot for me. I’m not exactly known for being docile or easy to soothe yet smelling that was…I just…it was as if something I’ve been missing had suddenly presented itself to me and I wanted it to come closer if it chose. I wouldn’t have forced it, mind you, I wanted it to come to me… I’ve pursued a lot of things in my life but this was the first time I felt capable of leaving the choice up to…”

The man nods approvingly at this answer, faint surprise within his gaze when the blond suddenly shakes himself then snaps his head to the side. Interesting indeed. None had given an answer quite like that. Taking note of the young Alpha’s reactions, the assembly head speaks once more while addressing who was left. “We have one last test for those of you remaining.” He holds up a small recording device. “I’m about to play you the sound she made when our teams discovered her within the villain bunker. I warn you now, the second you exhibit negative or hostile behavior as we mentioned in the pheromone test…you will be removed immediately.”

A collective nod comes from those remaining, including the blond who huffs softly while closing his eyes.

The air clicks with the sound of the device’s playback button.

Heavy footfalls and familiar military conversation begins to fill the air until silence reigns once more…then…

A sound that could only be considered a ringing call of distress pierces the air that makes the pupils of everyone within the room to become slits. This cry is heartbroken, agony filled, shrill, bird-like in song interwoven with high pitched whines and chirps that are dripping with desperation and fear.

“Don’t fight it!” The man calls over the recording as the sound replays thanks to his fingers pressing the repeat button. “If you have that drive to protect her, show it! The more you fight and hide that instinct the less we understand if you’re a possible candidate!”

It was clear that nearly every man within the room was responding to the cry of distress. A call like this could earn one of two things: a predatory response that would earn ruthless attacks that would surely end the creature’s life…or a protective response to use one’s self to protect said crier.

That’s when the blond Alpha suddenly snaps when he hears those present suddenly give hunting cries in response to the recording. His temper was nowhere near becoming involved, he was deathly calm as he rises to stand and bares his sharp teeth at those present as a call of his own erupts from between his jaws. Red eyes ablaze, the young Japanese hero marches to stand before each of those who had begun to express a want to feed, his cayenne and gunpowder saturated pheromones filling the air as he meets the gaze of every single Alpha. Growls, snarls, rumbles, his voice comes out in a combination of noises between dominating demands of their submission and comforting sounds directed towards the recording whenever his gaze shifts back to the device.

A giant Alpha, a man from Germany decorated with Nordic tattoos and long beard braided with various bones as his being is dressed in furs, steps up to the younger and smaller blond, his bared teeth several sizes bigger that drip with saliva. Large, intimidating, smelling of mountains and the salty ocean along with the tang of leather, this man was not to be trifled with. He was a hunter, a ravager, and once he caught the scent of a prey worth his fangs he would not relinquish easily.

Not to be outdone, the Japanese Hero didn’t waver nor did he even flinch at the challenge. “Back. The fuck. Off. Before I make you.” He snarls lowly, growling deep within his throat enough to make his chest rumble with the vibrations as he squares off against the other Alpha with his own teeth bared. They and his muscles may not be as big however that didn’t mean he didn’t make up for it in other ways. Explosions crackles then popped across the blond Alpha’s being, filling the air with the scents of gunpowder and spicy peppers as his pheromones begin to fill the air when the German lowered his fangs so they were inches from his. “That supposed to scare me, you old sack of shit? You may be bigger but you know what they say: the bigger they are the harder they fall. It’s time for the dusty ass bones like yourself to sit back so the newer age Alphas can show you how the world should be running.”

“You better watch that smart mouth on yours, pup, before I shut it up by stuffing my fist down your throat.” The older Alpha snarls lowly.

“If your arthritis will let you by all means, let’s see you try.” A smirk raises the blond Hero’s mouth.

“Why you insolent, little—” The German breaks off when the recording repeats, obvious that his hunting drive was triggered when more saliva drips down his chin.

However even the elder Alpha suddenly found himself taking a staggering step back when an explosion of energy forced his own to recede, his head slowly bowing to the side as the Japanese Alpha released a warning that promised pain if ignored. “I’ve told you once and I’m not going to repeat myself. Stand. Down.” The blonde rumbles deeply as he steps closer to the other Alpha.

The recording stops with a press of the man’s finger as the other Alphas are escorted out of the room once they concede and bow their head slightly to the younger Alpha from Japan in submission. “I think we have our man…” the assembly leader whispers to himself as he slowly approaches the blond. “Your name is Katuski “Dynamight” Bakugo from Japan, right?”

A nod is all that can be managed as he settles back within his chair with a huff.

“Tell me the truth: did you have any inkling or drive to feed upon flesh or drink blood when you heard her cry?”

Katuski instantly growls, his expression one of anger and offense as explosions crackle along his hands. “What the fuck—No! Of course I didn’t! I’m nothing like that flea-bitten German Alpha! That’s an archaic practice that I would rather eat my own damn leg than participate.”

“Let me be straight with you since you’re the sole Alpha left.” The man’s tone becomes grave. “I asked because the Omega, this poor girl, was used not just for her female body or heats…those villains took turns feasting upon her living flesh and blood. That’s why we had to ask to make sure you don’t share in their tastes so please don’t take offense. When she became of age, they started pairing her off with some of their strongest in hopes she would birth Supers for them to raise into the next SuperVillains. However, they didn’t take into account how their lacking care of her would affect the capability of bearing the offspring they demanded. Her wounds were so severe that her body’s natural functions were sorely upon survival during her captivity that even those with hyperactive sperm couldn’t have been capable of impregnating her. The Omega’s poor heart, body, and mind were far too focused upon living than allowing any sort of opportunity for it to support another. And yet she has miraculously remained Unmarked. Those villains were either smart or stupid to not mark her as theirs but that also means that she is far more vulnerable and fragile. Omega’s are natural homemakers, they are central points of any pack or family. If they don’t establish or find their own by the time they reach a certain age…well, the last Omega who was incapable of doing so lost herself to depression and is currently within a coma at a Persian hospital.”

“Holy— You’re serious?!” Katsuki rises to stand, red eyes wide and a growl in his voice as explosions spark across his being like fireworks. He’s never known anger to this degree. This poor, innocent girl has been through hell for the past decade as a breeding machine for the villains who only treated her worse with every failed attempt to produce an offspring when she was merely trying to survive! Bloodlust unlike he’s ever known rises in the back of his throat but he swallows it down with a growl.

“Calm down, now, she is in good hands currently.” He closely watches the Japanese Alpha as he says the next part. “She’s in a secure location not too far from here. Only I know where it is and I’m prepared to take you to her.”

“Then why the hell are we wasting time here for? Take me to her. Now!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was through the residence door the second the helicopter had come to a stop.

The scenery was like that of a postcard or calendar. Towering mountain peaks capped with snow, towering trees whose canopy branches disappear into the overcast sky above, the air thin but misty from the clouds drifting past. Gorgeous, beautiful of any art form yet none would do justice to the picture before him.

And yet Katsuki paid it no mind as his nostrils flared as he searched for the scent that had been within the vial from the test.

“You won’t be capable of sniffing her out.” The assembly head commends his efforts as he enters the perfectly camouflaged building that blended in with the surrounding landscape; not even aviary types would be capable of spotting this place if they were perched right on top of it. “Relax and take some deep breaths, young Alpha. Listen instead of sniffing.”

With a growl, Katsuki huffs then closes his red eyes as he levels his breathing. Damn altitude and its interference with picking up scent trails. Though that was a smart move on this guy’s part. It would ensure that she couldn’t be discovered. Meaning that for now this could be the safest place for her—

His thoughts freeze when he suddenly hears a soft breath from deep within the residence. Was that her? It had to be. Every cell in his body was starting to vibrate as his chest rumbles softly.

Without wasting another second, keeping his eyes closed so as to focus upon his hearing, the blond Alpha carefully and swiftly makes his way through the multilevel residence while paying no mind to those he passes until he comes to a stop before a door. The sounds had gotten louder, the breaths now faster, were coming from the other side. His hand quickly pressed the panel beside the door and with a soft hiss it unlocks and allows him entry.

And that’s when he saw you…laying curled up within a mountain of pillows and blankets that must have been a hastily put together Nest, your being curled within a fetal position.

You looked so fragile laying there covered in bandages that revealed just how skeletal your frame was. Brittle hair that looked as if it could just snap if the slightest pressure was applied, arms and legs so thin that they might as well be twigs, the simple dress covering your being sorely to preserve your dignity and allow ease of dressing changes or sponge baths for healing purposes revealed the full extent of the trauma you’d suffered at the hands of the villains. It was heartbreaking, seeing you staring listlessly off into space that was the nearby dome of windows that allowed you to gaze out across the scenery outside he’d paid no mind to. Your eyes were so dull, no spark of life to be seen within them as you lay upon the fabric formed Nest that had been put together by others in hope you would find comfort.

The sound of footsteps vaguely registers within your mind as a presence approaches. You’ve never felt something like this before but it was obvious that it belonged to an Alpha, that was obvious, and yet you remained unmoved from your position. Nothing interested you anymore.

Ever so faintly, almost too faint to hear, your ears pick up the faintest of rumbles coming from the figure who slowly moved within your line of sight.

Your oval pupils, which had been unfocused, slowly adjust to bring his being forward from the sea of blurs that claimed your vision. Nothing awoke within you when he lowered himself to one knee, his expression unreadable but body language relaxed as he remains at a respectable distance. But it was as your gaze met his red, finding ruby gemstone irises that shift and dance within the light as he slowly removes the black mask from his face, that your breath hitches when the motion of his hand causes you to become wafted by a small breeze that carried his scent; summertime sunshine, festival firework gunpowder, the faint taste of spicy pepper tantalizes your sinuses as you breathe in the pheromones he gave off.

Slowly, your head rises from the Nest, eyes searching his own as you use both elbows to remain somewhat upright.

His pupils dilate slightly when he sees how much your arms are shaking from supporting your weight and with quick reflexes moves forward with a gentle grasp to catch you before they can give out, a concerned and calming rumble sounding from within his throat as he helps you to sit comfortably by leaning you against the Nest’s barrier. Katuski could feel the barrier of the Nest; natural law ordained and demanded that none could enter an Omega’s private space such as this without facing consequences but you hadn’t made this particular structure so he wouldn’t suffer any major repercussions…and yet he gradually backed off once he was sure you were stable. He wanted you to be as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

The slight tilt of your head to the left makes his breath catch not because you had moved but the fact that you had tilted it in his direction was cause of him to suddenly feel a spike of adrenaline. Or was the anticipation? He didn’t know and frankly didn’t care.

Without using a single word, the gloves upon his hands were removed then tossed off to the side with his gauntlets and mask, then he offered them to you with palms facing upwards.

The choice was yours.

Would you stay…or would you go to the Alpha?

There was no indication that he wanted to hurt you. Not a single growl, nor did he bare his fangs, and this one smelled much different than any you’ve encountered. The features of his face suggested he was slightly older than you, not by much but enough that spoke of many overcome obstacles in battle and personal growth, his ruby red eyes revealing a hungry drive to prove himself but also a deeply rooted loneliness amongst the shifting gemstone shards of fierce protective and loyal flames that spark with golden flakes within his red irises.

A wave of his energy washes over you like a summer breeze, a warm shower upon the thirsty desert longing for rain, as before you realized it…

…your being had moved from the Nest and into his arms that slowly enclose around you.

Katsuki gasps when your form lightly presses against his, a soft whine sounding from him when he feels that you’re more fragile than you look, as if you’d snap if he squeezed too tightly. His cheek rests upon the top of your head as his eyes close, one hand resting upon the nape of your neck where its fingers gently massage as the other hand brings you closer until your seated comfortably within his lap, his legs crossed neatly beneath you so your own legs were draped across one of his toned thighs.

The heart in his chest threatens to break when you nuzzle your face into his neck, feeling your breathing hitching as if you were fighting back sobs. Never in his entire life had he felt this way. As if every fiber of his being was demanding he protect that which lay within his arms. Echoes of what the assembly head had said along with the footage he’d seen replaying within his mind. Your body may be weak but your soul was that of a warrior. It was strong enough to withstand the captivity within the hands of the villain Alphas. That made you admirable, within his eyes, someone more than worthy of his respect and maybe…more.

“You were very brave to survive what you went through. The fact you’re alive today shows that you have a strong will, a fighter’s spirit.” he finally manages to whisper, nuzzling your temple gently with the tip of his nose as his hand that had been at the nape of your neck carefully combs through your tresses. “…you shouldn’t have had to go through any of that and I’m sorry you did…but I want you to listen to what I say to you right here…right now…” The bend of his finger meets the underside of your chin, raising it with gentle pressure so that you were looking up at him instead of hiding within his neck. His gaze is soft, voice tender and warm, expression one of sincerity as he ever so carefully brushes the tip of his tongue along your cheekbone. “…You’ve fought your war. I promise you never have to go through that hell again. Those villains will never lay another hand on you and if one of those bastards ever even try to come near you I will tear them to shreds and pieces so small that no forensic team will find traces of them. You’re safe now…no more pain, no more suffering…not so long as I’m alive.”

Your eyes widen. Why would an Alpha of his caliber make such a promise? Surely he was demanding something in return. They all did. No act of kindness came without a price or ultimatum, that was a painful lesson you’d learned.

That thought must have shown on your face if his soft growl was anything to go by, but it wasn’t a threatening one; more of one of the frustrated nature. “No, I don’t want anything from you. I just… If anyone on this damn earth deserves to live a life of happiness, that person should be you, little one.”

Pressure suddenly takes hold of his heart when he sees a tear slip down your cheek, your eyes so wide they might just pop out of their sockets.

“O-oh, crap, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Damnit, I can’t even comfort someone right?!” One of his hands leaves your being so it can rake through his hair as he grumbles beneath a breath before bringing you even closer so that your ear is pressed against his chest. “Sorry, I’m not the greatest with stuff like this. I’m not Izuku or Kirishima who can just—” His sentence screeches to a halt when feeling you start to tremble and words give way to gentle rumbles as he tightens his hold on you. Now he could smell it…how you were trying not to fall apart, attempting not to shatter into a million pieces. Once again his warm, wet tongue gently brushes against your skin as he begins to rock you back and forth. “It takes as much strength to remain in one piece as it does to cry when the soul needs it. It’s okay…I’ve got you…go ahead…let it out…”

A quiver rises within your lips as your hands rise to cling to the costume fabric covering his chest and back.

One of his hands moves to the back of your head where it keeps you close while the other begins to rub along your spine. “I won’t let go, I swear. Nothing can touch or hurt you so long as you’re within my hold. Forget the damn world and its bullshit, just focus on this right here…you and me…no one else…just us…”

Something within you clicked, as if a bond was trying to form as you take a shuddering breath that fills your lungs with his pheromones and his energy washes over you once more. His words wrapped around you like his body did, surrounding you within warmth and serenity, shielding you from the world’s eye. Within your throat rises a choked sound. It’s been so long since you’ve used your voice that for a moment part of you wondered if you’d forgotten how to use it.

As if sensing your hesitation and sudden fear his tongue gently begins to lap at your throat in encouragement. The touches gentle, tender, sweet even as if he were attempting to help you find your voice once more…

And its when his lips meet your skin that the first of many hoarse, broken cries erupt from your throat as crystalline tears spill down your cheeks.

Unbeknownst to either of you that the assembly head and his team were closely watching the two of you, a pair of medical personnel ready and waiting for the opportune time for them to move forward with their hidden agenda. The trials had successfully found a compatible Alpha for the sole Omega left in the world. Now it was time for them to wait.

~~🪽~~|~~🪽~~|~~🪽~~| ~~🪽~~|~~🪽~~|~~🪽~~|

I do have a secondary part but that is as far as I got for this story. Another is in the works and if you guys like this one enough, I’ll post the second part of this! Take care, loves!

[kaisturni]

have me (let me pt. 2) | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ plot; you’ve been on your own for a while, not needing or wanting the company of anyone. what happens when you meet a guy late night on the beach, and everything about him draws you in?

→ includes; making out, smut with plot, fem!oral, orgasm

→ a/n; IM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! i missed you guys ;). anyway i got horny writing this. as always, hope you love it as much as i do! ps everyone say thank you anon!

NOT PROOFREAD!

——————————————————————————

“want t… want to go to the back?”

i can feel my ears ringing at his words. my mouth is agape, gaze bouncing between his eyes and then ultimately landing on his lips.

that’s enough for me to nod vigorously at his suggestion, and we’re both scrambling to make our way to the smooth black leather that covers his back seats.

my knees are to my chest, watching him close the door of the back seat, matt’s gaze not leaving mine.

maybe this is a bad idea.

i shouldn’t be doing this.

i shouldn’t be in the backseat of his car.

my racing thoughts are cut off by the sound of matt’s voice filling the empty space between us,

“y/n… are you okay?”

i feel embarrassed, just how i did when he first caught me staring at the beach. but i cant help it, none of this moment feels real and i keep having to remind myself that it is. my cheeks feel hot. my body feels odd.

i want his touch.

“completely fine” i manage to make out, “come here,”

he gives me a crooked smile, our bodies moving in synch, i’m sliding beneath him, my nearly bare back against his cool leather seats, and he’s crawling on top of me.

i swallow at the feeling of my heart beating out of my chest, matt’s eyes piercing into mine, head dipping down to meet mine like a magnet.

his lips are just as soft as they were on the beach; but this kiss feels different.

it feels hungry, lustful, like he’s ready to pounce and devour me at any moment.

almost instinctively, my hands find a home in his hair, and the light moan that comes from his mouth as soon as i do is enough to drive me even crazier.

matt’s hands wander, grazing over my skin so delicately in comparison to how is mouth is on mine.

it takes me by surprise; his soft touch turns rough when he squeezes my breast, and i gasp against his mouth at the feeling.

he plunges his tongue into my mouth, and i don’t stop him. with the way he kisses me, it’s hard to ignore the unmistakable burning sensation in my core, and i fully aware i’m growing wetter by the second.

what is almost hard to notice, is the string of my bikini bottom being slowly tugged undone.

matt pulls back from me abruptly, a small trail of salvia connecting our mouths for a moment.

he looks like a god; lips puffy and slick from kissing me, parted and panting, hair just about covering his eyes, and half naked in front of me.

his head comes back down to my level, but not to meet my face again. instead he’s leaving gentle kisses and nipping at the inside of my thighs, and i bring no hesitation to spread my legs further for him.

“can i?” he asks, his hand playing with the other side of my bikini, still tied; not for long though.

“god— please”

matt’s face curves into a smile for just a moment, before resuming the task of sliding off my unlaced covering.

it takes seconds for me to become hyper aware of how naked i am in front of him, his eyes not leaving my pussy.

a shaky breath escapes my lips, and i try to close my legs, but matt is quick to spread and push them up to my chest.

“hm” he lets out, with a shake of his head.

i close my eyes in anticipation, unable to control the guttural moan that comes from my mouth at the feeling of him softy sucking on my clit.

i’m latching my hand on to the head of the passenger seat, feeling like my knuckles are about to split from how hard i’m gripping it.

matt’s pace doesn’t slow down, it only speeds up, humming against my pussy every time his actions are rewarded with a moan or whine.

i wonder how he’s so good.

almost too good.

how many women has he been with before? am i just another number? another hookup? is he someone that’s just going to walk away so easily?

my thoughts are again interrupted when i feel two fingers enter me; my breathing increasing as he pumps his fingers in and out, wet noises filling the hot air in the small space we occupy.

the knots in my stomach start to twist and form, an orgasm soon to follow,

no one has ever made me cum before.

“matt— mm, s-slow down, gonna cu-“

“no,” he huffs out, head still hung near my pussy, eyes low and drunk with lust,

“i want you to cum on my fingers,”

i nod vigorously, who am i to deny that?

the speed and curl of his fingers doesn’t waver, my head becoming fuzzy when i feel my release.

he keeps going through my high, and only stops when my moans become light pants.

i sit up to look at matt; his fingers are coated in my own juices, glistening in the moonlight that creeps into the windows.

“how was that?” he asks, and i let out a light laugh at his question, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to need reassurance for his skills.

“amazing, like— wow,” i run a hand through my head, removing the hair that has been sticking to my forehead.

matt’s eyes are closed as he’s catching his own breath, a pang of guilt stinging my chest for a second when i look down and see his bulge pressing into his shorts.

gaining confidence knowing i caused his little situation just from pleasuring me, i should really return the favor.

“you know…” i start, sitting up, moving tuck my legs under me,

“i wanna make you feel good too, matt”

with that sentence, his eyes shoot open.

his breath hitches, lips parting when his gaze flickers down to my chest, words about to leave his mouth before we’re both startled by a buzzing ringtone coming from the front seats.

i for sure know not a soul is calling me, but for him i can’t stay the same.

“shit,” he curses, grabbing his phone that’s face down on the dashboard.

i do my best to be subtle about who’s calling him at this hour, and i see a contact picture of him and and identical guy next to him,

chris. must be one of his brothers.

he mumbles a fear swears before answering the phone,

“hello…? yeah, i was just at the beach… i was on my way home actually… yeah… i’ll be there soon… bye.”

the conversation is over as quickly as it started, and a frown grows on his face when he sets his phone down to look at me,

“do you have to go?”

it almost comes out shaky— i don’t want to leave this, leave him, be alone at my place without another warm body in my company.

again.

“yeah, chris and my other brother nick are tripping about where i am. how close do you live from here?”

i sigh, but quickly compose my frown with a smile.

“about 5 minutes, it’s a quick drive”

“perfect, i’ll uh… get in the front while you change”

his eyes run down my body a final time before just barely opening the car door, leaving space for him to exit but not completely expose me to the outside; as if anyone is around.

i swallow heavily, quickly tying up my bikini back onto my body while matt is in the front, the gentle purr of the engine starts as his fingers move quickly to text, i assume chris.

this is probably the best moment to put at least minimal clothes on, and i grab my shorts from the floor of the back seat, sliding them on right before i crawl back into the passenger side.

silence.

i hate this. the air feels almost awkward while matt puts his car in reverse, making our exit into the quiet streets.

oh god. was this a mistake? does he regret what we did? is he having some kind of after sex clarity? no. we didn’t even have sex.

couldn’t get that far.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“you can turn left up here then right, and it’s that apartment complex right there” i point out, and he says nothing but delivers me a nod instead.

quickly enough, we’re at the front of my complex, and i silently grab my things, ready to open the door and bid this man of the night goodbye, when his voice finally sounds,

“can i walk you up?”

the blank expression on my face changes, and i can feel my lips curve into a smile,

“i’d like that, thank you”

“no problem,” he says, smiling as he takes my things from my hands, leaving just my keys in my lap.

i really dont want this to be over.

whether it’s a blessing or a curse, i only live on the second floor. my keys jingle in the lock of my front door before clicking open, and i see matt peek inside my apartment when i swing the door open.

“thank you, matt. this was- this was great.” i say, taking my things from him, resisting the urge to throw them aimlessly in the hallway of my home.

“it was great, and you know what?”

“you wish you could come inside?”

i wasn’t expecting to say it. i definitely was thinking it, but wasn’t sure if i was going to let that thought out.

i’ve been bold and unlike myself enough times tonight, so what’s one more thing added to the list?

i’m feeling spontaneous.

he lets out a laugh, slightly throwing his head back before looking at me and reaching a hand up to caress my face.

“that- for sure that- but, what i was going to say was, made out on the beach, you were naked in my car, i ate you out, and i don’t even have your number yet.”

my core begins to heat up again as he recounts the night, the pleasure i had experienced being absolutely unreal.

“well then you should have it, and then maybe you can come inside”

his smile grows bigger and bigger,

“hopefully that maybe turns into a ‘you should’, but put your number in my contacts,”

this time, i don’t really give a fuck about where my stuff goes at this point, i whip around and toss it, grabbing matt’s phone that he hands to me, a low laugh coming out of him,

i put in my contact, and hand it back to him,

“text me when you get home?”

“of course i will,”

his hand comes back to my face almost instinctively, and his other hand reaches to intertwine with mine.

i don’t want to wait for him to do it, so i do the honors of pressing my lips to his.

the kiss is soft and sweet, neither of us pulling apart.

remembering he has somewhere to be, i break it, but keeping my face close to his.

“i’ll see you soon, y/n”

“yes you will,”

and with that, he kisses the top of my head, starting to back away, letting our other hands stay linked until the very last moment, where he gives me a wave with the hand that just escaped mine.

i wave back, the linger of his touch still burning on my hand where it last was.

god i hope i see him again.

whenever that may be.

always with love, kaia <3

[4law]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑. — secret sex

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄. now that you’ve been captured by the navy, you’re left with a choice— convince smoker to keep you by his side as a personal cock-sleeve, or be sent to headquarters for an execution.

heavy overstimulation + dumbification, squirting, creampie, ‘good girl,’ mild degradation, strength kink, navy x pirate, choking, hate sex, f!reader, 550 wc

“w..what time ‘s it…” you slur, words muffled by the pillow your face is currently buried into. your eyes roll back with how feverish you feel, overstimulated cunt still fluttering with each drag of his thick cock.

“how would i know?” he grunts deeply, “busy dealing with the pirate.”

you seemed to have forgotten that a vice admiral of the navy would have stamina— endless stamina from the countless hours of training they undergo. he has you face down ass up, big and strong hands holding your hips up for him.

“don’t act like you don’t like it,” you mumble, turning your head to the side to flash him a tired grin, “what kind of righteous marine…”

“..spends their free time fucking a pirate like me?”

your eyes widen when he suddenly slams into you, mixture of slick and his cum spilling onto the mattress as your tongue lolls out. just how many loads of him have you even taken today? your memory was reduced to a blur hours ago, the only images flashing to your mind being smoker— smoker’s fat dick buried inside you, the sound of smoker’s deep, guttural groans beside your ear when he empties his balls in you for the 5th morning in a row…

“don’t forget your place,” he growls, “you’re scheduled to be executed at any time.”

“no,” you whine through moans, eye catching onto the way his dick is coated in a thick layer of your slick, “don’t wanna die.”

you reach behind yourself mindlessly, spreading your ass open for him as you tiredly rock your hips back and forth. “can still make you feel good, vice-admiral.”

smoker roughly pins your hands behind your back, looming over you as he buries himself deep inside. “you insatiable pirate,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against you.

“what kind of criminal,” his words match with his thrusts, “is scared of being punished?”

“you’re not much different—”

you yelp as a hand wraps around your neck, roughly tugging you upwards until you’re flush against his chest. smoker holds you just like that, rutting his hips directly up into you. “shut your mouth.”

“i don’t remember giving you permission to speak.”

his hand wraps around to roughly rub at your cunt, grunting a “keep it down” when you moan loudly. you’d think your brain is coated in fluff if you were able to even think in the first place, mind focused on nothing else but how close he’s bringing you to the edge, fat cock pulling out before slamming right back into you.

“‘s too much,” you slur, legs trembling as he holds you tight against his wide chest.

“you have no stamina,” he groans, “..need to train it into you. teach you how weak pirates like you are gonna have it rough.”

you click your tongue, unable to squirm out of his hold as he keeps you still with one arm.“don’t bother trying to put up a fight against the navy,” his voice lowers to a growl, “and just follow orders like good girls always do.”

loud squelches seem to echo through the room as he speeds up, slick spilled over the mattress. you can’t escape from his hold, unable to fight the orgasm approaching rapidly.

“so cum,” he commands.

your mouth falls open against your will, only a few more thrusts until you start gushing around smoker again, walls clenching tightly around his length. you try to return a glare through tired gasps, mouth opening to retort, but he beats you to it.

“that’s more fitting for a pirate of your level.”

[confiscatedpeaches]

William Afton Kidnaps You, Part 2

William Afton x fem!Reader

part 1

PSYCHE! Y'all thought I was posting tomorrow, but I literally got so horny for this old man I wrote this in one sitting.

Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+

TW: noncon, violence, forced breeding kink, age gap, restraints, blood

"Please I didn't do anything! I don't know what you're talking about!"

You struggle against him, but his hand is firmly pressing you into the filthy mattress.

"Like hell you don't! Always teasing me, always taunting me with your youthful feminine figure. Don't play dumb love."

You feel your panties around your ankles. The cold air hits you and you realize how exposed you are. You wriggle and writhe beneath him, making it hard for him to place himself inside of you. He spanks you hard, the ring on his hand cutting into you. He strikes you over and over, until you feel bruises and welts beginning to form. His fingers intertwine with your hair. Pulling you up by the back of your head, he whispers into your ear.

"Be a good fucking girl and behave yourself for me."

You slam into the mattress below. The wind knocked out of you. Dazed and confused the room starts to spin. In your moment of weakness, he grabs his cock and brushes the tip against your swollen pussy before slamming deep inside of you.

You lurch forward. He's too big for you. This hurts. Blood and precum leak out of you. His cock is stretching you out, molding you to it's shape. In a last ditch effort to make this stop, you beg.

"Please... stop... please... please don't do this I'm begging you..."

He lets out a heavy sigh, hand still holding you down.

"Sorry love, just relax for me. You'll enjoy this too, if you let yourself."

Your survival mechanism starts to kick in, and you freeze. There was no way out of this now. He takes this as a sign of submission, and continues pounding into your tight tender hole. Animalistic grunts escape him. The room begins to smell of sweat and sex.

He shifts positions to reach deeper within you. The head of his cock begins to rhythmically massage your g-spot. You stifle a whimper. Your sex betrays you as you feel some sort of sick pleasure rising within you. It's disgusting. Why are you enjoying this? This is horrible. This is wrong on so many levels. You hate this man, but your body is loving him. He grins, sensing the signals your body is sending.

"Mmm... do you like it when I do that?"

He grinds his tip against you harder, deeper. Pleasure pools within you, burning you up inside. In an attempt to keep quiet, you bite your lip so hard it bleeds. Hot iron fills your teeth and tongue. Guttural sounds ripple through you. It feels as though he is reaching down your throat and pulling whines and moans from your guts. You feel you breasts bouncing under you with the rhythm of his hips. Your body starts to shake, another betrayal. You know an orgasm is coming, and it makes you feel ashamed. He laughs between grunts. Taking his hand off of your head, his fingertips dig into the sides of your hips.

"Mm... come for me darling. Cum on my cock like a good girl."

"N-no.... stop please... ah..mmmm-no."

"Don't try to hide it love, admit you're enjoying this just as much as I am."

You stay silent. Tired of the pain, tired of the pleasure, you give in to him. Relaxing into the mattress, you feel the orgasm begin to build even more.

"Mmm.... ahhh... please... mmmph.."

You arch your back as the climax washes over you. Wet slick drips down your thighs as you come for him. Your inner walls expand and contract. Trembling and weak, you moan loud He continues slamming into you. He's getting close to cumming himself. A realization hits you.

"No..! Please don't..... come inside of me... nooo!"

You buck your hips back in an attempt to throw him off of you, but that only elicits a moan from his lips.

"Yes! Yes lovey.... I'm going to come inside of you... God I love it when you struggle. Keep struggling for me darling, I can feel you tightening on my cock"

Resistance sparks within you. You can't let him cum inside of you, what if he gets you pregnant? Like an animal's dying final fight-or-flight, you squirm, you scream, and try to crawl away. His hand reattaches itself to your scalp, slamming you down once more, causing pain to shoot through you. Exhausted and worn down, you relax fully.

"Good girl, you're being so good for me doll. Let me fill your tummy full of me."

He gives a few more good pumps before his hot load paints the insides of your womb. He slumps over and groans as he empties himself within you. You can feel his cock pulsating against you.

In the end, he got what he wanted out of you.

[orphicrose]

The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) X

<

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of Death and Bl00D

W/C: 2.3K

Note : Thank you so so so much to everyone who has enjoyed this story. This is the last chapter to this book BUT I can make another book if anyone is interested. I really do appreciate the love this has gotten. As when it started I thought no one would open it and now i have so many readers.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover @t0xic1vi @saccharine-nectarine

--------------------------------------------------------

Rage filled his body, replacing his lust. Surging through his veins like some sort of adrenaline booster. "Satan...."

A cane appeared in his fingertips, gripping to tight they turned white. Circulation scared to temper with the angered wendigo. Shadows tailed behind his hooves like an army of deviancy. Nothing more to lose but his second life, but that was meaningless anyway without y/n. His minions disperse from him like pathogens looking for a host, flying through the walls and dimly lit areas of hell, looking for their target. Satan. 

Alastor rampaged through hell, his demonic form replacing any evidence of someone who was a human once upon a time. Radio dials replacing his pupils, and black tar like legs emerging from his torso like something from the deep sea. Face like a crazed killer relapsing, reminding him of who he was supposed to be. Lilith hadn't given him this great power for no reason, and he was going to use it. 

On the other side of hell, Y/n lay battered on a warehouse floor. Abandoned by its former workers, bought by Satan to be turned into another means of business without a doubt. 

"There were no distractions" She spluttered on the floor, arms bringing her away from the dirt. "My numbers are up, I don't understand..."

"Not even your sins can be of deterrence to that fool." The man mumbled, trailing around her like a coyote. "I should of killed him when I had the opportunity"

Y/n sat still, doe eyes following his movements with any anticipation to flee for her life. "I never asked for any of this"

"No one asks for anything!" He bites back, stopping in his step to lean towards the cowering demon at his feet. "I gave you a job to do, and you failed. I gave you opportunities to be a great overlord, a wealthy power to be reckoned with. And what do you do with it?"

She remained quiet, face falling to avoid his gaze. 

"What do you do with it?" He repeats. Voice quieter, more sinister. "You don't even use it" The quiet whisper turns to a dark chuckle. Repeating the sentence over and over. "You don't even use it". He can't even comprehend how anyone wouldn't want the power, how anyone would fail to use it. 

"What could one want more than raw magic?"

"Normality" Y/n mumbled. Feeling the blood running from her heart to her fingers, a sensation she missed from her previous life. "What do you need a million souls for? " Her tone became accusing, bolder. Climbing to her feet and balancing her stance to oppose the large man in front of her. She couldn't lose more than her life in this moment, she thought. "There is a limit for power, even for a sin as important as you. So, why so many?"

He bared his teeth, psychotic grin turning upside down to a menacing frown. Words nor forming audible, except for the growl vibrating the glare from his fangs. 

"Why do you need the souls?" Her voice raised, coming closer. Too close. One move and he could bite her head from her shoulders like a rabid bear. 

"Power?"

"I must bring her back!" A vociferous outcry escaped him. A new level of hostility replacing his aura, a hand reaching out and grasping her neck. Restricting any air from escaping his prey. "They took her from me" Guttural sounds gave her goosebumps, watching the tormented memories in his eyes crying, driving him to the brink of insanity as the seconds passed. His anguish pouring out in a storm of shattered words and furious tears. 

Y/n clawed at the broken flesh of his fists in desperation, her fear doing the work for her as her body flailed about under his undeniable grasp. Air struggling to escape her muffled ranting for help. Her vision began to fade to the darkness of her eyelids, bloodshot at they roll away from the world. Her fighting against his merciless force taking her life from her. 

"You are replaceable, everyone is. That's what they told me. That's what they said when they took her" His fist grew tighter with ever slow word to fall from him. "They took her, so I'll take you"

Something flew through the air, something sharp. Hitting him in the hand, resulting in another nasty outburst of roars and splattered words from the sin. 

"So, this is why you are the Sin of wraith. Not very composed, I see. How fitting" Static rung in the air as y/n took in as much oxygen the world around her could offer. Clutching her throat in agony. 

The same static got louder and louder from the life outside the building, till it stopped abruptly. The sense of inevitable danger weighed on satans shoulders, looking around in a panicked state for the source. 

"A lot more paranoid than I suspected.." A hand landed on his shoulder, and sunk its claws into him. The large figure swung round, landing an elbow in Alastor's face. Stunning him. 

Satan took a long second to compose himself of the almighty being in front of him, almost too big for the large ceilings. "Impressive" he put a hand over his shoulder, a flicker of light hitting him before the wound was swiftly removed. "But not that impressive".

The sin tripled in size in just a minute. Legs stretching out, and new ones forming from his torso. Face warping into another species, one that Alastor feared the most. A hellhound, Hades himself would be scared. The absence of skin, replaced by hard bone, gave Alastor a feeling of doubt. Yet, his will to win never making a mark on the sinister grin sprawled across his jaw.  

Strong brick and infrastructure of the warehouse began to crumble. Falling around y/n like heavy snow. She had little time to comprehend what was happening as she was pulled out from underneath a falling brick. She sat, confused, on a patch of grass on the outskirts of a forest. A familiar shadow floating next to her on the floor, giving her a sad smile. Gesturing for her to remain in her place, before flying back to his owner. 

Green and Purple hues floated atop the skyline, rocks flying for miles around her as the two beasts began their decent on one another. Primal echoes of their agony sent a wave of anxiety into confused citizens. Scared to see what the commotion was about. A symphony of raw power emitting from the two, clashing and crumbling buildings around their feet. 

Y/n swallowed her fear, and struggled to her feet. It was true, she had power unlike any other overlord. Gifted to her from a sin himself, maybe she wasn't the most powerful being in the universe. But anything could help Alastor win this battle. She took a deep breath, and let it out. Letting her form sink into the ground with a purple mist following her to her destination. Materializing a few meters away from no-mans-land.

Alastor nor Satan took any interest in her presence. Till the ground shook under their feet, and Violet radiance blinded them. Almost like a storm was brewing from the core of the Earth. Years of pent up aggression and frustration came out in a loud bellow, her form warping into what could only be described as a Phoenix. Her large, dragon like body emerged from the human flesh on her back, ripping and burning it to ashes. Fur mixed with dark scales on her winged being, reminding everyone she was still a being from hell. A large beak let out a god awful screech, gaining the attention from everyone in the pentagram, and deafening those too close. Her feathers Ebony and Royal purple, resembling flames the colour of a dawning sky. Ash settled at the talons that broke the concrete below her weight, ash from her former body. 

Everything froze, to admire the beautiful beast in their presence. Mistaken for a corrupt god. Satan would have been proud, if the circumstances were different. He fell backwards a few inches, his form seemingly shrinking. Barely noticeable. 

"Y/n?" Alastor's figure remained the same, but the look in his eyes returned as he looked over to the large beast next to him. A mix of adoration and fear overcoming him. Y/n dared to move her gaze to him, then back to the offender. Remaining silent like a titan. 

Her stance shifted, a foot coming forward with great force in an instant. Letting out another unnerving scream. 

"What in my fathers name is going on here?"

Everyone looked over to y/n. Who did her best attempt at a shrug with her bird shoulders. Eyes widened as she, too, looked around for the source of the voice. The three of them turned to see a small man, hanging in the air with his large wings. Anger painted on his scowl, and arms crossed like a disappointed father. 

"Down!" He shouted, like they were animals, as he pointed towards the floor. The three of the beats shares a confused and almost embarrassed look, as they hesitantly retook their position as an average hell being. Shrinking simultaneously to their previous sizes. 

"Lucifer! How good to see you aga-"

The small man landed in front of Satan, taking no second to strike him across the face. "What do you think you are doing in pride? Destroying my buildings? Scaring my sinners?"

The large man looked down on him with a saddened look, holding the red mark on his face. "I had business to tend to"

Lucifer let out a frustrated laugh as he gestured to the damage around them. "Ya call this business?" He laughed again, stuttering, and holding his temple firmly "I don't even know what to say. Go home!" He flashed him with his horns for a brief second before letting himself calm down. "We will be discussing this later... But a few of your souls are going to be conviscated!"

Y/n stood awkwardly next to Al, holding an arm with the other. The king of hell turned to the two after Wraith had disappeared from his sight like a toddler with a tantrum. "And you two..." His arms crossed again, looking them up and down. Leaning uncomfortably close to them. "I expect more from overlords of my ring."

"I apologies... You're majesty" Y/n inched closer to Alastor for comfort, who remained silent. Staring at the short man in his gaze. 

The king shook his head, mumbling to himself. "This just won't do" 

"Do you mind... getting my soul back?" 

He returned her question with a very unimpressed stare.

"For Lucifers sake... Alastor!" Y/n's voice echoed through the house like a siren in the deer's ears. 

"Yes, Mon Cheri?" He appeared behind her in the kitchen, startling her. He spun and wacked him lightly in the chest in retaliation. "What's wrong?" "You ate the last of the snacks? I was saving them for our movie night" Y/n pouted, holding up an empty box of wafers. 

"I did no such thing. I don't even enjoy those bland creations" He pretended to take offence, holding his heart.

"Well, who else would have eaten them?"

He grinned wider, staring at her with little to no expression before grabbing her arm. "We are going to be late for our broadcast, dear. Lets solve this mystery later" He began to drag her behind him. 

"I think it's already solved" She mumbled, keeping up with his pace.

After the long journey they had suffered together, the two decided to bring a sense of normality to their life's. Staring a new Broadcasting service for all the rings of hell to enjoy. Y/n and co-host. Her name going from the overlord of souls, to the overlord of media. For now, at least. . They did broadcasts 6 days of the week, updating hell on gossip or general news. Even being introduced to sinners who listened to their broadcasts in life. Growing their names, all over again. 

If you want to know what happened to Satan, Lucifer had him put in mandatory therapy for his anger issues. And for his problems surrounding grieving. But y/n's soul was returned to her by the king himself. Well... not so much returned as it was re-located to lucifers possession. Giving a soul back is a lot harder than it sounds. But the point it, it is in a safer place. Satan's Business has been put on hold, for now. Losing over 70% of his workers to lucifer, due to mental instability. Maybe he will rise to power again one day, but at least y/n no longer has to worry about it. 

"Good morning you foul sinners, and today me, and my wonderful co-host Alastor, are bringing you todays news!" 

"Thank you Y/n! Yes, today is already a day not to forget. Turf wars making their way through the east side of the pentagram with someone known as Sir Pentious!" Alastor chuckled "He doesn't seem to be doing so well!" 

The two laughed together. The static from the radio emitting from the small device in a kitchen. Electronic fingers reach out to turn the dial, turning the volume up as the chatter continued. A large figure was perched, listening intently to the noise. A bored expression on his face. "you too, won't be doing so well soon" The boredom shifted to an amused grin. Baring his electronic teeth on his flat face. Static emitting from his body like a circuit.  Vox gave a knowing look towards his small radio. 

[alilbatflies]

Just Cake #3

by popular demand (2 people asked) (hello) (thank you for commenting! it means a lot even if I don't manage to answer perhaps)

Part 1, Part 2

... ... ...

“Look who we’ve caught,” an entirely too sweet voice said. “Well, aren’t you two adorable?”

The villain was growling now. A low, guttural sound which the henchman has only heard in life-threatening situations, usually forced out by the desperate struggle of survival. Now it was a promise of violence, get closer I dare you, a promise of slaughter and doom.

They tried to angle their head to glimpse whoever had the honour of experiencing such a threat.

The person shuffled to the side, no doubt measuring them in turn. They were all cloak and magic glowing through two bright orange eyes.

Supervillain.

They were so screwed. Utterly fucked.

The supervillain measured them both.

They seemed… wary. Ridiculous, given that the two potential threats were trapped in a power-suppressing net. Ridiculous, given that the supervillain was a supervillain for a reason—spectacular amount of magical skill and all.

Although the henchman could admit they wouldn’t want to be facing their villain’s growling and claws either. Even through a net. There were holes.

“You’re not superhero.”

The confusion triggered by such statement startled the villain out of their instinctual reaction. They stopped growling, although they were still baring their teeth.

“I was not expecting anyone else,” the supervillain said. “Perhaps that pesky hero who lurks around them sometimes, but not a fellow criminal.”

Fellow criminal, huh? The henchman assumed the supervillain was trying to convince them that they’re all on the same side. Perhaps the idea of a potential furious threat unsettled them, no matter the current cage around it.

Well, it wasn’t like they particularly wanted to stay in the bloody uncomfortable trap.

“In that case,” the henchman said, “I suppose you wouldn’t mind getting us out of the net?”

“Should I?”

…the henchman had assumed wrong.

While they probably were on a similar kind of boat regarding their criminal activities, the supervillain hadn’t had any proper motivation to let them go. They weren’t especially close or anything.

And yet, still standing there. Still watching the two criminals swinging in their net as if they somehow held the answers to the universe.

The supervillain had options.

First, they could let them out. The best outcome but severely unlikely.

Second, they could close a bargain of some kind. I’ll only let you out if… which was less favourable, but it would still mean getting out relatively quickly.

Third, they could leave them trapped.

It occurred to the henchman that while there was little chance of them making it out then, the supervillain couldn’t possibly know that. Their villain’s powers were speculated on so many levels it had led to more confusion than clarity in the industry. That could work out in their favour.

The henchman was no mind reader. They couldn’t possibly know how much of a threat did the supervillain consider them at the moment. Nevertheless, the supervillain was still standing there.

Nevertheless, the supervillain didn’t seem entirely convinced leaving them hanging was their best option.

They could work with that.

They decided to play their cards according to their instincts. The villain still hovered over them, a display of teeth and taunt like an arrow ready to take flight and slaughter. Their most wild card, a whisper of carnage. A terrifying ace.

The henchman loved them so.

“You had no quarrel with us before this… incident,” the henchman said. They focused on keeping their tone light, conversational. “Although, now that the situation has changed, perhaps you’re excited to find out how we settle the score, hm?”

Their look met the orange eyes. The supervillain probably found them crazy, threatening from within the containment. They felt insane. They felt the thrill run through them.

“Let us go, so the beast doesn’t have to claw its way out.”

On cue, the villain growled.

The supervillain hesitated.

It was a brief and finely concealed blip of emotion, barely slipping past the dangerous façade. Surely the villain couldn’t be so terrifying as to startle them. And yet.

The supervillain drew a smile, entirely too sharp in its flawless elegance. “Of course.” Then they proceeded to pull shears out of nowhere.

The henchman tried not to be impressed too bad. They hadn’t had much time to ponder about the practicality of the supervillain’s pockets relevant to such level of preparedness, since the net was cut down. There was little regard for the fact they would hit the ground.

The henchman couldn’t care less about the fall as their magic roared to life inside them. It pushed along their bones and crashed into their skin from within. It settled then, nesting in their body like a monster in its cave.

Belatedly, they realized the villain shielded the back of their neck and head from impact with their arm.

There was absolutely no dignified way to get out of the tangle of ropes.

Once the henchman managed, they realized the villain was standing over them protectively, placing themselves between them and the supervillain.

The villains stared each other down. It seemed a stalemate.

“I appreciate you understand plans fall through sometimes,” the supervillain said. “It was not my intention to harm you.”

“As displayed,” the henchman noted quietly.

The villain considered this. They nodded in acknowledgement.

The henchman itched to get out of another’s territory. They were sure the villain didn’t want to linger either.

“Could you give us directions from the forest?” they asked. “We would dislike to meddle with any of your other… endeavours.”

The supervillain tilted their head.

“What I mean is…” The henchman pulled the net up from beneath their feet, holding it out. “We wouldn’t want to mess with your handiwork.”

The supervillain grinned as they took the cluster of ropes, a little feral, a little genuine. They did point the two in a certain direction. They tipped their head at the villain before seemingly dissolving back into the forest and vanishing.

“Bloody hell.”

The villain inclined their head. Then they turned and started away. “Luckily not.”

“Luckily not,” the henchman huffed in echo, following short behind. “Extremely insightful as always, boss.”

“Hm.”

They luckily didn’t stumble into any more traps on their way back.

The henchman was so not sleeping that night.

...

Part 4

[sphylor]

cw: blood

Today's practice had turned out way more stressful than Dew had expected. Papa was caught up in some ministry business so the ghouls were left to go through songs and choreography by themselves. Dew was a little bit thrown off by this news but it was fine. They had done loads of ghoul only practices before and done everything they needed to do. But there was an air of what Dew could only describe as silliness hanging over the other ghouls today and it was making it hard to get damn near anything done. 

“-and then I told him that I didn't even work there!” Swiss exclaimed as Phantom and Cirrus doubled over with laughter.

“So you had this poor guy follow you around the whole store trying to get your attention?” Cumulus giggled as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“I don't even know why he did it!” 

There was another eruption of laughter and Dew eyed the instruments that his bandmates had abandoned to go listen to Swiss’ story. He looked round at the other ghouls and saw the same level of disinterest in practicing. Rain had sat down on the edge of Mountain's platform and pulled out his phone and headphones while the earth ghoul absentmindedly drummed out a beat and stared out the window. Aurora had even linked her phone to one of the speakers and was playing some new hit pop song. Everything was so loud and disorganised. Dew tried to get anyone's attention, but between the laughter and the music and the sound of Mountain's drums no one could hear him. Or they were all just ignoring him. 

“Guys can we get on with the fucking practice? We start touring in a month and we still have so many things to go over.” Dew raised his voice and everyone went quiet. Aurora turned off the music and everyone got back into position. Dew felt guilt start to grow in his gut at all the sheepish looks on his bandmates faces. But he shook his head and looked at the setlist they needed to practice for the first show. “Okay let's just start from the top because Papa isn't here.”

They got through the first few songs without a hitch but when they got to the first solo in Faith, one of Dew's hands decided to cramp and completely fuck up the whole thing. Dew stifled his cry of pain and everyone stopped to see what happened. 

“I'm fine. Let's just start again.”

Dew tried again but his fingers weren't cooperating. He kept fumbling the notes as his hand continued to ache even after the cramping stopped. He was getting increasingly frustrated with himself. Everytime he messed up the solo he went back to the start and tried it again. He didn't even notice when the other's stopped playing when he started to do that. He also didn't notice his glamour slipping and, with what seemed to be a deafening twang, Dew's claws sliced straight through several strings.

The sound of his only blood rushing through his head was the only thing he could hear as he stared down at the guitar. One of the strings must have caught his hand as it snapped and Dew watched the blood drip down his wrist, staining his sleeve. 

Phantom rushed over and tried to take his hand. “Dew, you're bleeding! Let me fix that for y-”

A deep, guttural growl cut the quint off as Dew snatched his hand back and threw his pick to the floor. He would have thrown his whole guitar to the floor too if he didn't know how much it would cost to replace it. So he just shoved it on its stand and stormed out of the room.

As he marched down the corridors he could feel the hot tears start to stream down his face. He was such a fucking idiot. Phantom didn't deserve that. None of them deserved the brunt of his temper. The guilt made his stomach churn and he wanted to scream. He wrenched the door to his room open and slammed it shut behind him, before launching himself into bed. Grabbing the nearest pillow, he screamed into it until his throat was raw and his head hurt. 

After that, he realised that the feeling of his clothes sticking to his sweaty skin was just too much and he practically ripped them off his body, throwing them across the room and not caring where they landed. Then he remembered the cut on his hand and saw how much blood he had got all over his bed. It was everywhere. All the thrashing about he had done had caused the wound to keep reopening and bleeding all over his sheets and blankets and pillows. Dew practically jumped away from the bed and just stood there, too overwhelmed by everything to do anything. The tears started again and Dew just didn't know what to do. He fell to the ground and sobbed. 

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the library

plum, chapter six

a/n: i don’t think i’ve ever written about anything as close to my heart as this… like sure, other fandoms have been something that i’ve truly and deeply loved and known way way too much about, but this one is just at a different level. like it’s one of those that for so long seemed way too personal to ever write about. 10 years. 10 fucking years of loving a story in a life-altering way, being autistic so diving into it in a way that makes you more than qualified to then write fanfic about it lol (i know too much, it’s borderline painful lol). idk i’m just having a moment tonight where i’m just like wow…

warnings: Joel Miller x reader, MILD SPOILERS for the last of us (both games and the hbo series), slow burn, age gap (20 years), timeline wise this is set in between the first and second game (so when they live in Jackson), ptsd, violence, angst, weapons, zombies

word count: 886

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Oh, man…” you breathed out as your fingertips ghosted over the dusty spines of the many novels lined up in front of you. 

You’d snuck out. Like a teenager in the night, you’d snuck out of Jackson. You weren’t particularly proud of it, being way too seasoned not to know the stupidity of not even leaving a note. 

But it was just a small trip, a few hours tops. You’d be back before anyone would realise you were gone. You just knew that they wouldn’t have let you go if you’d spoken up, at least not alone. 

With a few books already reserved, the hardcovers pressed tightly against your chest, locked in place by your forearm, you glanced up and spotted a particularly intriguing title, one that tickled a memory long forgotten. Lifting yourself onto your tiptoes and reaching your free hand up as far as it would go, your fingertips only managed to kiss the binding, not gaining nearly enough of a hold to simply get it down.

Giving it a few forceful pokes, hoping that it would just push the book enough for you to be able to grasp it fully and therefore quietly get it down, it instead came crashing down, causing not only a cloud of dust to puff up in the abandoned library but also sent a deafening thump echoing down deep within the vast building. 

Freezing up, barely even breathing at all, you glanced down at the dropped book and a cluster of bloodcurdling guttural screeches found your ears. As silently as you could manage, you reached for your knife, having not been able to grab a firearm back at Jackson since they were under much more significant security. 

The library evidently wasn’t as vacant as you thought. There were two, maybe three clickers scattered somewhere in the many rows of bookcases surrounding you. 

Needing both hands to defend yourself, you slowly shifted the books in your arm and slid the pile onto an open spot on the dusty shelf in front of you. Holding your breath, you hoped the action hadn’t created too much noise. 

Standing still, standing ever so still, you heard one of the creatures creep closer. Tightening your grip around the handle of your blade, you watched as the blooming fungi appeared around the corner. 

Debating for a moment if you should strike out or just keep standing there, hoping you could somehow hide amongst the stories long enough for you to eventually somehow slip out, the sudden shriek it produced as it whipped towards you made that decision for you. 

Having luck on your side, your knife found purchases in the monster’s neck and as you sliced it open, exposing its mutated vocal cords, the clicker dropped to the floor, the ruckus alarming the rest of your exact location. 

The second one being closer than you’d imagined, the fight was a struggle, ultimately forcing you to the ground as the infected gnawed atop of you, biting the air in hope that your tender flesh would accompany some of it. 

And just as you thought this was it, that you had lost all hope of triumph, a gunshot rang out amidst the books, blowing a lethal hole into the creature’s skull.

Sucking in a startled breath, you shoved the corpse off of you and before you could manage to get back up on your feet, an outstretched hand appeared in front of your face. 

Blinking up at Joel in alarm, the loud cry of the last remaining creature had you holding your sharp tongue. Accepting his aid, you got back up and quickly took a look around, prepared for the noisy gunshot to have sent the final one sprinting in your direction. 

Your sudden wide eyes being enough of a clue for Joel to catch, he whirled around, covering your body with his broad form and lifted up his pistol, ready to unload into the clicker scampering towards you. 

It was only when it laid unmoving on the ground that you noticed how his hand was holding onto your midsection and shielding you protectively. Ripping it away at once, you then gave his sturdy form a big shove, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“What am I doing-, what are you doing here?” Joel bellowed, “the hell were you thinking running off like that? Do you know how reckless, how goddamn stupid that was?”

Fighting the urge to slap him across that salt-and-pepper cheek of his, you scowled, “did you follow me?”

Either he purposefully ignored your question or else he was just way too wrapped up in his own fury not to continue, “do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

“I can take care of a few infected myself,” you wiped your blade clean against your jeans, then folded it back up and tucked it away in your pocket. 

“I know that.”

“Then why-”

“Because the infected aren’t the only threat out here and you know it,” he dared to say. His twitching face softened ever so slightly at the grave look that flooded your features. “They are still out there, Y/n.”

Blood boiling, you turned around on your heel, picked up the abandoned books and determinedly walked towards the exit, bumping your shoulder heatedly into him as you passed.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[buglord-isaac]

That one part in the MWIII Trailer:

Price had always been like a father to Soap. He had trained him to become the strong, reliable soldier he was today. He had guided him through missions, he had provided backup to him so many times that he’d lost count. He truly was his lifeline.

Sure, he had made fun of his nickname when they’d first met, but Soap took that in his stride. There was a level of partnership between them that even Ghost hadn’t reached yet.

So when Soap had to watch the life fade out of Price’s eyes as he laid dying, held up only by the tactical gear gripped in Soap’s dirty, blood stained hands, he didn’t know how to react. Ghost and Gaz were there too, watching their Captain bleed out.

He always bragged that he was un-killable… but the bullets lodged in Price’s body were making short work of him. His breathing was rugged. His gear soaked in red. The very air around him smelled metallic to Soap’s nose. Soap still had a foolish kind of hope, the kind that he logically knew was false. He hoped he’d pull through.

Ghost was watching Soap hold desperately onto Price’s gear. Him and Gaz were a metre or so back, pushed aside by a desperate Soap. Ghost had seen deaths like this before. He was certainly phased by it being someone so close, watching the very life fade away out of Price’s skin and eyes as blood seeped from his fatal bullet wounds. There was no saving him. Not even if they got him to a hospital the next second. The pool of blood around him already stained the knees of Soap’s jeans.

Ghost almost wanted to pull Soap away to keep him clean, but that would just be cruel.

As Price finally succumbed to his fate, Ghost watched Soap and read his emotions. He went through a phase of silently begging.

“Price… Price?? John… please wake up… you can pull through, I know you can…”

Ghost watched and listened as his Sergeant’s voice became more shrill, more desperate. He knew there was a ball in his throat as he tried to choke down the tears that were already free flowing down his cheeks. He could feel it in his own throat.

He knew what would come next. Desperation would turn into despair. Soap would scream at the corpse, maybe as an attempt to reanimate him, maybe simply as an expression of his love and devastation. Ghost couldn’t let it happen. If Soap were to do that, their location would be revealed.

He rushed in to put his arms around Soap. Not in a comforting manner. No. Rather, in a headlock, the inside of his elbow covering Soap’s mouth and muffling the guttural scream that he let out. It was heartbreaking.

He had to pull him away, despite the screams, despite the fingers digging into Ghost’s arm. Soap didn’t hear the calming voice of Ghost, telling him to calm down.

“Shhh Shh- Johnny- they’ll kill us… you need to be quiet… I’m sorry…”

This, of course, made things worse. Johnny was sobbing, though it was more like muffled scream-crying. It was so visceral that it almost made Simon himself cry. Gaz was crying too. He was just muffling his own cries with his own arm. Simon was the only one keeping his cool. Sure, he hated himself for his ability to choke down emotions to an unhealthy degree, but it was a useful talent.

After minutes of struggle, Johnny’s crying turned more sad than enraged. He threw himself into Simon’s chest and practically wailed into it. It hurt to see him unravel so badly… but he was there to help him for as long as it took. Whether the exfil helicopter would get there first or the Russian army, Simon was prepared to hold him until either occurred.

[indigostudies]

feeling enthusiastic tonight so i wanted to talk about my favourite things about the languages i speak/am studying!

mandarin chinese:

singular character words are fairly rare! unlike english, due to the high number of homophones in the spoken language, most words are comprised of two or more characters for clarity's sake. for example, while 孩 does by itself mean child, usually it's combined with another character (ie 孩子，小孩儿，etc.) due to it sounding similar to other words (还，骸).

in spoken language, you often need the entire context to understand the meaning. due to homophones, if you're missing the surrounding context, then it can be easy to misunderstand what someone's saying.

homophones generally! i've been known to love a good tongue-twister, and being a native chinese speaker is definitely part of that—there's just so many good ones! this also crops up in social media/memes, where a homophone is substituted for the original character(s).

the written language! i'm definitely more biased towards simplified chinese, but i can still read traditional chinese, and i think chinese is one of the most beautifully-written languages. it's just so logical! the strokes follow a certain order, and everything is contained in "boxed" that are very pleasing.

german:

poetry! german is known for literature, and i love reading poetry in german, even if not having studied it in a while means i have to look things up pretty frequenty ^^°°

the pronunciation! while i'm definitely at an advantage since i have an ear for languages and can nail german pronunciation at a natural level, i love speaking german—especially the longer words! i love the way the letters sound together (i'm definitely biased towards the eu/äu combination haha).

the ß!

gothic script—this appears a lot in historical german print, and i love it, even if it does make it a bit of a challenge to read anything haha.

kurmanji:

the various possessiveness contructions—there is no verb corresponding to the english to have, so instead you have to use the verb hebûn, to exist, so for example, two brothers of me exist (du birayên min hene, using the izafe construction) or for me two brothers exist (min du bira hene, without izafe, possessor is in the oblique case at the start of the clause) would be used instead of "i have two brothers".

the xw dipthong—i'm probably biased because i love "uncommon" sounds and letter combinations, but not only does the x in kurmanji sound nice (it's sort of like the ch in bach, or the ch in loch), when combined with the w it makes a sort of hissing sound which i'm very partially to.

mongolian:

sounds absolutely gorgeous!! central asian languages generally sound very pleasing to me, but i especially love the guttural sounds in mongolian.

the traditional script is one of the most beautiful things i've ever seen. i have yet to learn how to write in it (at least without a lot of tears on my part), but there's a user on xhs that writes in traditional script, and it's just. stunning. it's fluid, and curling, and just! aaaa!!! i love it. also it's written vertically, which is a fairly uncommon thing as far as languages go.

it's got a ton of different dialects! i'm a known enjoyer of dialects and regional language variations, so of course this is like a goldmine to me.

korean:

i know i said that the mongolian script is gorgeous, but look, i love writing systems in general, and korean is just. so orderly! so perfect for my pattern-obsessed little mind! also, it only takes, like, half an hour to memorise. 12/10 i love it.

a very specific point, but the various ways to say goodbye! you specify whether the person you're speaking to are staying or leaving.

turkish:

probably the most agglutinative language i'm aware of—a lot of words, especially more "modern" (ie new) words are formed by taking a base word and then adding on "meaning" or semantics to it, for example the word for a shoe cabinet is literally "that which stores the covers for the feet".

neutral pronouns! spoken mandarin is also neutral in pronouns, but in turkish both the written and spoken form of the third person pronoun is neutral. while it does make it a little bit frustrating if you're trying to, say, discuss feminist theory, it does mean that no gendered assumptions are made about, for example, a job position.

that's all i can think of right now! if anyone else wants to ramble excitedly about the languages they're studying/speak, please feel free to add on!

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Is your smut drabble event still open? If it is, could we please get something for prompt 19? My praise kink self of course fixated on that one haha. Thank you for your writings ❤

no thank YOU for sending in requests!! (tbh didn't expect to get this many overnight kdjfksdjfkdj)

send me some smut dialogue prompts (✿◡‿◡)

19. “You are doing so well.”

"on your knees," he commanded.

you were quick to get down onto the ground, but it wasn't quick enough for levi. you felt him push down on your shoulder and you roughly landed on your knees, your eyes going wide as you came to eye level with his throbbing length.

"open," he murmured and you felt shivers travel down your spine as you parted your lips, looking up at him, your eyes going wide when you felt the tip of his cock enter your mouth.

he gave you a moment to adjust before you felt him tangle his fingers into your hair, thrusting his hips forward as he held your head against him, his cock twitching upon hearing the muffled sound of you gagging against his cock as it hit the back of your throat.

after a few seconds, he pulled your head back, allowing you to catch your breath before thrusting his hips into your face again. his grip on your hair loosened, with it feeling more like it was giving you support as he began to slowly move his hips back and forth, his length traveling in and out of your lips.

"you're doing so well for me," he mumbled affectionately as he ran his fingers through your hair.

his breath got caught in his throat as he felt you take initiative, wrapping your hand around the bottom of his shaft as your tongue began to swirl around the tip.

levi could barely contain the small moans coming out of his throat, feeling his eyes shut as he relished in the feeling of your lips around his cock. he grit his teeth together as he felt his cock begin to twitch with how you were pumping him with both your hand and your lips and a guttural groan escaped his lips as he pulled your head back off him to keep himself from cumming on the spot.

(looks like you did a little too well ♡)

[bomberqueen17]

the far side of the world

i've made it via audiobook to book 10 of Patrick O'Brian's Jack Aubrey / Stephen Maturin series and I initially read these books so long ago that time and again I'm like oh i definitely didn't read this one i don't remember it at all and then I stumble across something that I'm like ... oh, no i definitely read this one so like. well. i just can't tell. But i really do think I'd read these before, and I just was too young to fully understand some of the bits.

I'm making myself not look up spoilers for things so I can be surprised by them as they happen. But some of the things are just. Well. Anyway. I'll cut, so as not to discuss spoilers with anyone else who wanted not to be spoiled.

I was sort of sad, for this book, because Pullings had been promoted and thus wouldn't be in the ship anymore, more's the pity, but oh joy, he has come along as a volunteer! Won't Mowett, who is now first lieutenant after his departure, be jealous or feel slighted, Stephen asked, and Jack says why, anyone else would, but those two get along so well and have already worked it out between them, there will be no trouble among them. Stephen muses that they are polyandrous husbands, to be sure, married to the ship, and Jack needs the word defined and then is sort of gently skeeved-out at the entire notion of polyandry, despite his own imperfect command of monogamy.

This finally drove me to look at AO3 to see if there were any fanfiction specifically of this pairing, because I would completely read Mowett/Pullings/HMS Surprise, treated with any kind of gravity (and crack would also suit). Alas I found none, and distressingly little Pullings/Mowett either. In my mind I have dubbed them the Tubular Husbands, as Mowett is initially described as a "perfectly tubular young man" (I think the description is meant to hint that he is still slender with youth and has not really filled out into full adulthood yet, as I believe he is meant to be a teenager in that first book), and later Pullings is also described as somewhat tubular in form, I think in a musing by one of our principal characters that he has recently filled out and thus is no longer quite so caterpillar-like. Anyway I think Tubular Husbands is a perfect ship name for them and if I were in a fic-writing way at all currently, and not so taken up with my various ongoing shit, I would totally write it. High, excellent potential there.

But I digress. Well, not really, that's about all I had to talk about.

It's hard to quote snippets from an audiobook but the other night I was enamored enough of this passage to transcribe it. Stephen is speaking of Jack's wife, Sophie, who is a dear friend of Stephen's, he and she never having had the slightest romantic chemistry but understanding one another perfectly on a human level for many years.

"I desire you will not top it the Othello, brother, for shame? Stuff on you. If any man so far forgot himself as to make a licentious suggestion to Sophie, she would not understand him for a week. And then she would instantly lay him dead with your double-barreled fowling piece."

Everyone in these books is slightly autistic, to be sure.

Simon Vance is a great narrator, but any accent he does that is not English is just awful. His American accents are painful, and for an Italian woman he did the same bad French accent he does for every Frenchman. it is a shame, otherwise I do like his performance a great deal. Well, on 1.25x speed, otherwise the pauses for effect drag on too much. I do not need a languid cadence for a thirteen-hour piece, thanks much. But it's a delightful performance on 1.25x speed and I am enjoying it greatly, I just wish he had listened to like one Italian person speaking English before doing all the bits with Laura Fielding. Do you really think an Italian would pronounce it Lauxhra with that guttural French R? Meestehr Matuxhrîn! Non, I seenk not.

Anyhow I'm as far as the pacific ocean in book ten don't tell me what happens but do tell me your headcanons about the tubular husbands and just how dedicated they are to this undersized but sweet-sailing frigate.

[ajgrey9647]

“It wasn’t your fault.” Jason to Tommy.

“Hey, man… It’s alright,” Jason insisted, standing over the newly freed Green Ranger who now sat on his bed, staring up at him with reddened, teary eyes. “What happened in the Dark Dimension was due to Rita’s influence over your mind. It wasn’t your fault!”

If he’d known Tommy was going to show up in the middle of the night, still quivering and panting from the intensity of his nightmare, the Red Ranger would have made sure to put on a shirt. As it was, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the litany of healing lacerations to the teen’s chest and abdomen; Jason had a feeling they were going to scar if the tight pulling from the wounds carved into his broad back were any indication.

He wished the other boy would say something… But after gasping out the details of his tortured dream, Tommy’s gaze focused on the Red Ranger’s bare upper body, and he’d immediately fallen silent. Jason settled next to him on the mattress, a hand squeezing his shoulder firmly as a finger lifted the Green Ranger’s chin, forcing his face to tilt upward and away from his demented ‘handiwork’.

“It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault,” he repeated, emphasizing each word firmly.

Tommy’s hazel eyes finally met Jason’s dark ones, an oddly intense passion flickering like a spark from stone against metal. It wasn’t the same as the evil green aura he’d had when under Rita’s obedience spell… Yet it was still unnerving.

‘Oh, Jason, you have no idea what I really wanted to do…’ a raspy, guttural voice growled inside his head. ‘She said to destroy you, but didn’t tell me how… She never told me to do the other things I did to you. I did them on my own.’

The Red Ranger didn’t know even half of what he’d done while under Rita’s thrall. Tommy felt certain that at some level there was a part of himself that was truly evil, a dark stain upon his soul that had nothing to do with the space witch or her enchantment over his mind. If that weren’t the case, then he would not continue to feel this confusing but intense obsession when it came to Jason Scott.

There was the desire to possess, to control, to…consume his bold spirit, to restrain that willful, stubborn defiance, to bend him to his will, a broken, sobbing shell of his former self. And all the vile things that it would take to bring the Red Ranger to his knees…

Guilt pricked his conscience every time when his musings took him back in time; however, it did not stop the erotic fantasies nor prevent his hand from finding its way to his throbbing cock every time he considered the way he’d stalked his prey, a predilection that began before Jason was even aware that a Green Ranger existed, trailing the red-clad teen through the halls at school, wandering down the grocery store aisles as he’d shopped with his mother, and even teleporting into his bedroom when his enemy was out, rooting through his closet and drawers.

‘I wanted to know every part of you, my fiery Red…And I was a studious observer. I learned the scent of your shampoo, the sharp taste of your toothpaste, whether you wore boxers or briefs, the way your bedsheets felt against my bare skin as I rested my head against your pillow…’

So many, many things…

Tommy knew Jason’s favorite food item to order at the Youth Center, the dates and times of his martial arts classes, his school schedule, his grades, the size of his clothes, his birthday, his height and weight, the names of his parents and grandparents…

He couldn’t explain the compulsion to invade Jason’s private world, his life outside of Rangering… only justifying it as a common tactic of knowing one’s enemy, getting inside their head to learn how they think, what their weaknesses are. But that wasn’t all of it, he mused.

The twisted tendrils of his dark passion steadily penetrated the very air around the Red Ranger, worming its way like a cancer throughout his entire existence.

‘Our time together in the Dark Dimension, drawing your life’s blood with my sword only made my craving all the worse. I could smell its scent like a sweet catnip and ached to trace my tongue across those burning gashes…’

Tommy tried to lift his lips in a soft smile to soothe Jason’s growing concern.

“I’m still so sorry, Jase… for everything.”

‘I did intend to destroy you that day… to finally mark you as my own,’ the voice reverberated ominously. ‘And a sick, sadistic part of my heart still wants to…’