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amxranthiine · 4 years

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c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her

A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way. After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly. Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be. Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out. Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently. “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good. “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss. I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins. Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known. As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair. The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking. “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger. The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies. “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair... He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation. Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door. In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling. After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable. It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants. I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts. “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories! Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked. “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude, “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

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carelessannie · 3 years

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maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 10)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Read the Dating OneShots

Word count: 10.8K (v long-- consider reading on Ao3)

Starker, IronHawkShield (?), Winteriron, Spidershield, everyonexeveryone

Tony's POV -> leading up to bonding, Tony works on some of his pack relationships. And then, finally, his pack can bond together!

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, explicit d/s abo smut, heat sex, biting and bonding, knotting, mating (check Ao3 for further smut warnings)

---

Tony wakes up restrained.

He blinks, eyes heavy, and realizes that his wrists are tied together, bound to the headboard in— the red room.

Dammit. He’s not even sure what happened. Thinking back, he remembers lunch with Peter and then— fuck! Peter!

Tony struggles in his binds, suddenly desperate to get back to his vulnerable mate who is entering heat and needing him.

“Let me out!” Tony bellows, lacing the command with as much dominant tone as he can manage. No response. He yells, thrashing and trying to break out of the ropes— the only thought in his mind to find and save his Omega.

“Cut it out, Tony!”

Tony freezes. Steve’s Alpha tone pins him in place, and he glares towards where his packmate is standing, arms crossed, in the doorway. Tony growls, “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing, Tony. He’s safe in the nest with Bucky and Annie. I need you to calm down and tell me what happened.”

Safe, thank god. Tony releases a short breath, relaxing into his restraints.

“I’m not… I’m not sure what happened. I was eating lunch with Peter, and then he smelled anxious. I tried to clear the room, but then he needed protecting and I— damn, did I hurt someone? I went feral, didn’t I?”

Steve shifts, walking closer, “No, no one was hurt. Bucky thinks you did go feral. Tony— you tried to mate him in the R&D lab.”

“Peter?” Tony screeches, horrified.

“No, you idiot— Bucky.” Steve rolls his eyes and sits on the end of the bed, “you almost mounted Bucky at work. You called him, he came to help you, and you made him submit.”

“Shit. I don’t remember any of that.”

“I didn’t think you would. Now,” Steve stands back up, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace, “can I untie you? Or are you going to cause trouble?”

Tony grumbles a bit, resentful of Steve for assuming he’s going to do something stupid. He eventually nods, though— resigned to suffering through his Omega’s heat, unable to see that Peter is okay.

Steve works through the bonds, quickly loosening the intricate knots and freeing Tony. “This is the least sexy way you’ve ever tied me up, Rogers,” he grunts, jumping off the bed.

He just gets a scoff in return. Steve leads the way out of the red room and down the hall, back to the living room where Clint is pacing back and forth between the kitchen, barely acknowledging them as they enter. Tony pulls out a few glasses, pouring each of them a finger of scotch, before perching himself on a barstool.

All three of them down their drink in one swig.

It’s uncomfortably quiet as Tony pours another one. Each of them nervously moving around, lost in their thoughts. And, of course, there’s the residual tension with Clint.

Tony can’t stand it anymore.

“Steve?” he wonders out loud, sipping on his drink casually.

“What, Beta?”

“We should kneel for you.”

Both of the other men set their glasses down, hard, and stare at Tony as if he just grew another head.

Clint coughs, “What the hell did you just say—“

“No, I’m serious. We’re all anxious and upset. Out of control. I’m feeling jittery— I think we should kneel for our Alpha. Maybe you can restrain us, or feed us. We need to establish trust, anyways.” he finishes off, looking pointedly towards Clint.

Steve stares at him for a long moment, and Tony returns it. Challenging. Tony’s mouth slowly ticks up into a mischievous grin, chin tilting back to expose his throat in submission.

Clint looks terrified, caught in between his two dominant mates, and does the right thing by staying silent.

Finally, Steve cracks, “Okay fine. But—" he interjects before Tony can celebrate, “I need to set ground rules. Neither of you are going to go fully into headspace, and neither will I. Tony, I need you to watch for this, since there is less of a risk for you swinging submissive. Understood?”

Both Betas voice their consent.

“Good. Second, we will use stop lights. If I check in and you are unable to give me a color, we stop the scene. Is this clear?”

They both answer, “Green.”

“Perfect. Now— third. I want to guide an honest conversation between us. We need to work out our differences, and that will be easier to do within a constructed space. I will not bind either of you. I will feed you both. I will direct our conversation and choose the location. Color?”

Tony agrees automatically, smiling at his Alpha, but notices that Clint is hesitating. The taller Beta glances between the two of them, eyes landing on Steve. He wrestles for a moment, internally, before coming to a decision.

“Green, Alpha.”

“Good,” Steve praises, reaching out to clap Clint on the shoulder.

He moves them quickly down the hall and into the office. Their pack rarely plays in here— electing to reserve this space for Steve’s business, when he needs to conduct it from home or work long hours— but Tony had the floors padded, just in case.

He’s grateful for it now. Steve moves them inside and instructs them to take off their shoes and socks. He leaves the room for a few minutes to bring back dinner, and Tony takes this time to check in on Clint and find a few water bottles from a nearby fridge.

When Steve returns, he situates the furniture— turning the large desk chair away from the wooden desk and dropping two kneeling pillows onto the floor, underneath his knees.

“Kneel,” he instructs, guiding Tony first and then Clint to sink to their knees in front of him. Both of them get soft praises and gentle strokes through their hair for the effort. Steve takes a few moments to choose music to play over the speakers, before encouraging them to rest against his legs.

They all sigh, releasing the stress of the past hour.

Steve waits until all of them are breathing steadily before he starts the conversation. For a lot of it, he just lets Clint talk. He starts with his current feelings, reservations about bonding, but ends up walking them through a lot of his trauma with past packs. He talks about losing his family, and then being taken in by Annie’s pack, and how she was always his rock throughout high school and college.

Tony didn’t know a lot of this. Even after his dates with Clint, they quickly realized that neither of them want to talk about emotions unless prompted. Steve asks Tony for his thoughts— and Tony is honest with Clint, sharing his feelings as well as his own hesitations.

He soon learns how functional the three of them are together. Tony keeps a hand on Clint— his leg, his shoulder— for most of the conversation, and helps Steve to ensure they’re all fed. He sees Clint visibly relaxing as Steve and Tony share their own stories, spending long minutes just listening to each other.

At one point, when talking about Tony’s history with toxic packs, it’s too much for him, and he tries to give Steve a blowjob. Clint ends up being the one to pull him back, holding his arms against his side until Tony goes limp.

Steve feeds them chocolate truffles as a reward.

Functional.

Throughout the next few days, all three of them eat together, spend time talking together, and sleep in the den together— the faint scent of their Omegas helping to calm them down late at night when they can’t sleep. Steve is very strict about sexual contact, and insists that they should wait until after the heat to try anything. Tony and Clint reluctantly agree.

By the sixth day, the Omega heat scent starts to change, hopefully signaling the end of the long cycle. Clint and Tony spend most of the day curled together in the living room, working on their tablets and watching Lord of the Rings in the background. Steve spends the day cooking, insisting that their Omegas will be hungry when they emerge.

Clint likes to play with his hair, combing through Tony’s short waves and trying to stand them up taller— then giving up and brushing through them again.

“You have gorgeous hair, Tones.” Clint murmurs, tugging on a few wayward strands.

Tony just hums, scrolling through his work documents. After a few more minutes, he feels Clint stop and remove his fingers.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could—“ Tony looks up and stops, stunned.

Clint is looking at him with soft affection, his eyes sparkling with unspoken and burning adoration that Tony is breathless under. He reaches down to touch Tony’s face and leans forward, maintaining eye contact as he brushes their noses together— lips just a breath away.

“Can I kiss you, Tony?”

Tony tries to whisper please, but the word is lost between their mouths, meeting in a desperate kiss. Clint slides his fingers back into Tony’s hair, pulling them closer, and Tony deepens the kiss, closing his eyes and nipping on Clint’s lower lip. He inhales sharply when Clint yanks on his hair, submitting to Tony’s pace and letting his mouth fall open with a sigh. Tony takes this as an invitation to pepper kisses over his jaw, down his neck, and across his bonding spot. He sucks lightly, and then harder when he hears Clint beg him for more.

Just as Tony’s shifting to push Clint further into the couch, Steve clears his throat from the kitchen.

“That’s enough.”

The two of them break apart, breathing hard and turning to see Steve, hands on his hips, and wearing the disappointed look on his face.

“Steve, we’re bonding, though,” Clint complains, sneaking a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, and Tony laughs at the double meaning. Steve doesn’t.

“I swear, Peter’s the only other sane person in this house,” Steve grumbles as he returns to his cooking, griping under his breath about the woes of being the only Alpha and his horny mates being the death of him.

Clint turns back into Tony’s arms, kissing behind his ear and whispers, “He’s not wrong.”

They lay together like this for a few hours, so Tony is with Clint when he gets a message from Annie.

The second heat is over.

Similar to the first heat, Tony waits until Peter finishes his shower before carrying him away for the evening. He still smells heavenly, and Tony doesn’t move from his side the entire night— even when Steve asks them all to join in for pack dinner.

Peter ends up on Tony’s lap, sharing a plate of food because it’s cute, dammit, and Tony needs to take care of his boy right now. The six of them are tired, spent from a stressful few days of heat. Bucky and Annie get passed between Clint and Steve, but Tony refuses to let go of his sweet Omega.

Dinner is delicious. Steve really knows how to butter them up, because he insists on debriefing the heat before allowing them to go to sleep. Tony ends up apologizing to Bucky for going feral at work, and the Omega tells him that he was probably in preheat as well, since the three Omegas were only a few hours apart this time.

That means the next heat is the one.

Fuck, Tony curses to himself. He’s been looking at proposing to Peter, but thought he might have one more heat cycle before deciding on the perfect location for his Omega. Now, as Peter drifts off to sleep in his arms, he pulls out his phone, calling Pepper’s personal number.

“Hey Pep,” he whispers, careful not to wake his mate, “No, everything’s okay. I need you to arrange maid service for one of my houses.”

---

Tony can see Peter as he leaves the building, done with his last exam of the year. He stretches and pulls his jacket tightly around himself, ducking his head down as he treks towards the bus stop. As he sits on a bench underneath the awning, Tony pulls up in front of the stop, watching Peter look up in surprise as the passenger window lowers.

“Hop in, gorgeous,” Tony hollers, peaking over his sunglasses to give Peter a wink.

His mate jumps up— practically running to the car— and ducks into the passenger seat, throwing his backpack into the back seat before turning a brilliant smile towards Tony. The Beta practically melts, pulling Peter into a hug and nuzzling into his neck, enjoying the way the younger Omega shivers slightly and relaxes in his arms.

“Hi baby,” Tony smiles and pulls away, “How was your exam?”

Peter flushes and tilts his head in question, “It was fine. Long. What are you doing here, Tony?”

Tony pulls back into traffic before responding, “Clear your schedule for this weekend, I’m taking you away.”

“Oh. But, Tony, what about work—”

“Taken care of, baby,” Tony smirks and glances over in time to see Peter’s face shift from confused, to concerned, and back to confused, “Don’t worry, I’ve been missing you lately and thought it would be nice to get away for the weekend. Besides, Clint and Annie already packed you a bag.”

Peter grips Tony’s arm over the gear shift, “Are you serious? Where are we going?”

“A surprise, sweetheart, you’ll see.” Tony promises. He returns the grip on Peter’s hand all the way to the airport, and holds his mate close through the plane flight— even when Peter falls asleep in his arms.

The surprise ends up being a plane flight to his family’s villa in Valencia. It’s still dark outside when Tony’s jet lands, and he makes sure not to wake his Omega as he picks him up and ducks into the waiting car.

Tony enjoys the warmth of Peter’s body on top of his as he watches the beginning of the sunrise peaking over the horizon. When their car finally pulls up to the villa, Tony wakes his dozing Omega, gently herding him towards the rear patio, and tipping the driver extra for bringing their bags inside. He settles his sleepy mate in front of him on one of the ocean-facing lounge chairs to watch the sunrise.

“Tony,” Peter sighs in between a yawn, “I can’t believe you would do this for me.”

“Peter,” Tony shifts them around so he can look into Peter’s eyes when he answers, “I would move oceans, dismantle governments, and give you the moon if I thought it would make you happy,” Peter opens his mouth to interrupt, but Tony continues, “My beautiful Omega, I’m sorry I haven’t proposed, but you know you mean everything to me, right? I know you’re bonding with Steve first, and you have him at the center of our pack, but I swear— you are my true love,” Peter sucks in a breath as Tony asks, “Will you be mine, Peter?”

He watches Peter’s jaw drop as he pulls out a velvet black box. Tony opens the lid, slowly, to reveal both a silver ring and a delicate silver necklace. As Peter inspects further, he sees that the necklace has a small lock at the clasp, and the ring is an electronic key to—

Tony sees the moment it clicks for him.

“Y-yours?” Peter looks up and touches his own throat, question clear in his tone.

Tony reaches down and picks up the necklace— no, the collar— and turns it so Peter can see the inscription engraved.

Tony Stark.

Simple, yet clear possession. And Peter doesn’t even hesitate in lowering his neck, presenting the back for Tony to clasp the silver chain into place. Such a good boy. Tony lets out a rumble of approval, and Peter looks up through his eyelashes.

“Thank you, Da—”

His mate freezes as he realizes what name almost slipped from his lips, and Tony tightens his hold, “Shit, baby— what did you call me?”

Peter shakes his head in refusal, but Tony grips onto his chin, needing to hear it, “Peter, look at me,” and at the command his Omega lifts his eyes, tears forming at the edges, and whimpers quietly, shaking in Tony’s arms. Damn. “Baby? Do you want—”

“No, T-tony I’m sorry, I didn’t,” hiccup, “didn’t mean it, I’m so sorr—”

“Shh,” Tony brushes his thumb over Peter’s soft, pink lips— silencing his protests, “Don’t apologize, baby. Not for that.”

He leans down to dot a kiss onto Peter’s nose, taking in Peter’s DevestatedFearShame scent and deciding quickly how to put his sweet mate at ease.

“Peter,” he says quietly, “do you want to be my Submissive? To wear my collar?”

“... yes, Beta.”

Shit. He closes his eyes briefly to maintain some sense of control. “Peter, do you want me to be your Dominant?”

Peter’s eyes widen, “Yes, please, Beta.”

“Peter– do you want me to be your Daddy?”

Peter’s eyes flutter shut as he hiccups again, frantically nodding his head, “Yes, yes please, yes,”

“Open your eyes, baby. Yes, who?” Important, so important.

Peter’s eyes shoot open—

“Yes, Daddy. ”

Tony groans, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, and smiles down at his small, beautifully innocent mate.

“Such a good boy, Peter. I knew it, fuck, I knew you’d be mine.”

He doesn’t get a response, just a sweet whimper instead as Peter sways closer, licking his lips absently. Tony reaches down to hook a hand under Peter’s thigh. Violet clouds are reflecting off the surface of the water, lighting up Peter’s shimmering eyes with magnificent colors as they both wait for the sun to breach the surface.

Silence stretches, heavy, between them. Eyes locked together. Tony shifts his Omega, finding an easier angle to get access to his neck. The silver collar twinkles in the early morning light and Tony sucks lightly around the jewelry, humming into Peter’s skin. He feels his mate shiver, and pulls away to look back into his eyes, now half-lidded.

“You cold, baby?” he teases. He knows there’s a dumb smile on his face.

Peter just blinks lazily, “No, Daddy,” he whispers, letting his small lips part invitingly.

The temptation is too great. Tony leans forward and steals a wet kiss from his baby, swallowing the pleased moan he gets in response. Peter’s lips barely move in response, content to let Tony control the pace.

They spend a while after this trading lingering kisses and gazing far into the sunrise. Peter falls asleep as the sun heats his skin, stretching out and letting himself be warmed above by the morning rays and below by Tony’s secure hold.

As Tony’s eyes start to hang heavy, he makes the decision to move both of them up onto the sunbed outside of the master bedroom. It isn’t until late in the morning that they rouse again, and Peter is still floating in his head.

“There’s no rush, baby, we can spend some time in bed.” Tony teases, not expecting the embarrassed blush from Peter.

“M’kay, Daddy,” he whispers, ducking his face into Tony’s shoulder, “but I’m getting hungry.”

“Aww, sweet Omega,” Tony coos, “feeling soft for me? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you baby.”

The small Omega just snuggles closer, steady breaths turning into a gentle purr as his scent blossoms into HappyContentSatisfied. Tony’s sure his own scent matches.

---

Their weekend is short. Tony can’t remember the last time he was this happy, this relaxed, around another person. Of course, he’s always felt happy around his Alpha and Omega. This is different. This is his soulmate.

And Peter makes sure to tell him this all the time. Swimming out in Balearic, wrestling in the terrace pool, kissing under the moonlight— Peter is liberal with his affection and adoration, looking Tony in the eyes every time he whispers, “I love you, my Beta.”

Peter looks decadent with a tan. Absolutely delicious. Small freckles have overtaken his cheeks and shoulders, providing endless patterns for Tony’s fingers to trace across his skin. Both of them had tanned without their shorts this weekend. Tony’s proud that he convinced his modest Omega to go through with that. He has the absolute cutest little peach.

Sadly, Peter won’t let him touch.

They agreed months ago to save their first time for their bonding. This also means that Tony’s first time with Peter will come after Steve’s. Dammit. He’s just glad there’s a collar around Peter’s neck with his name on it.

On their plane flight back, his Omega seems distant. Their conversations are shorter, and Peter spends most of the time touching his necklace, staring silently out the window.

With a sigh, Tony makes his way over. Peter looks at him in question, but Tony picks him up, out of the chair, before the smaller man can object. Peter just makes a sad noise and burrows into Tony’s arms as he seats them back into the chair, facing the window.

“What’s wrong, Peter?” he asks, giving his jaw a chaste kiss.

Peter sniffles, “I feel weird, Tony. Sad and itchy.”

Uh oh. Tony turns his head, scenting along Peter’s bonding glands where the skin is slightly red and inflamed.

“Is this how you felt before your heats, baby? Could it be—”

Peter’s eyes go wide, “No, do you think? I didn’t even realize that… Yeah. Yeah, it’s exactly how I felt last time.”

Before he can panic, Tony shushes him and holds tighter.

“Fuck. It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.”

While Peter trembles and tries to steady his breathing, Tony pulls out his phone to send off a few obscure messages. There are ten missed calls, and a dozen messages. All of them from Steve.

He curses under his breath, calling Steve back.

“Tony, what the hell—”

“Where’s the fucking emergency, Steve? I’m on a plane back to New York right now.”

“Don’t give me that tone, Beta,” Steve sounds irritated already, “get back as soon as you can. I think our Omegas are going into heat again.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

Tony looks down at Peter— the Omega breathing faster and whining deep in his throat, “Uh, I think you’re right, Steve. And I think it might be the one.”

There’s a silence on the other end before Steve curses, “Holy shit. Fuck, Tony. Goddamn.”

“— wow, please don’t bond our Omegas with that mouth,”

“Shut up, Tony. God. Okay. Okay. I’m going to make some calls and help them nest. Get home as soon as possible— we’ll be waiting.”

Tony growls at his Alpha’s command, reluctantly agreeing before hanging up.

“What’s— something wrong, Daddy?” Peter breaths into his neck, his sweet and natural submission throwing Tony further into his dominant hindbrain. Similar to the start of Peter’s last heat.

“Just sleep, Omega. You’re so good for me. We’ll be home soon.”

---

Tony carries Peter the rest of the way, never letting another person close enough to touch. The last of the flight and the drive home pass in a possessive blur— Peter sleeping restlessly as his scent deepens incrementally. Tony’s been hard for hours.

Clint meets him at the front door— good choice, Steve— and the taller Beta grabs their bags from the car as Tony brings Peter into their house, making a beeline for the nest.

Safe, safe, safe, safe, he keeps chanting to himself, sprinting down the last hallway.

After their second heat, the Omegas had insisted on expanding the downstairs nest. Now, instead of taking up the back half of the annex, the upper canopy extends to enclose the entire space, moving the opening up to where the security panels lower to close the nest off from their den. The security panels still function, when needed, but now there’s space to fit multiple mattresses and other amenities inside the room.

Tony knocks on one of the wood panels, waiting for a confirmation before entering. He learned the hard way never to enter an Omega’s nest without permission. Bucky has surprisingly good aim with a knife.

Gentle footsteps pad closer, and the canopy is pulled open. Bucky stands at the entrance, eyes half lidded, and he struggles to concentrate on the couple in front of him.

He points at Peter, “Need my ’mega,” he rumbles, making grabby hands at Peter’s limp body.

Tony growls, low, “Can I come in, Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes widen, suddenly clear and focused. Good.

“Y-yes, Beta. Please.”

Tony pushes through, barely acknowledging Bucky’s response. Annie is cradled in Steve’s arms, the giant Alpha looking like a pile of mush staring down at the tiny Omega. God, what a sap.

He can hear Bucky moving things around and ignores him, instead choosing the best place to put Peter down. Near the window, but not too close. Not under the vent— too cold.

Unfortunately, it looks like the best place is right next to Steve and Annie. There’s a ton of blankets near them, and both of his mates are warm. Plus, Steve is good at protecting.

Tony grumbles to himself as he moves toward the Alpha, sizing up the threat. Large. Strong. He knows his Alpha can pin him to the ground in one move, so Tony keeps his eyes up, shoulders straight, and refuses to submit.

Steve’s eyes narrow, his growl intensifies. Tony matches the growl, moving his hands to hide Peter’s face from view. This makes the Alpha angrier. Tony knows. There needs to be an amicable exchange.

“Move.” Bucky demands from behind him, pushing Tony out of the way— earning him a warning snap— and jumping on the bed to snuggle up next to Steve and Annie, extending his arms. “Put ‘im down.”

Tony pouts, upset at his Omega’s insolence, but still gently lays Peter down in Bucky’s arms, trusting his mates to get him comfortable.

Bucky mumbles something, but it’s lost in the blankets and skin.

“What’s that?” Tony asks, digging around in the covers to find his mate’s face.

God, he’s adorable. He drops a kiss on Bucky’s forehead as the Omega responds, “Where’s Clint?”

“I’ll go get him. You just get comfortable.”

Bucky giggles— a beautifully innocent sound that has Tony struggling to leave the nest. So he runs, sprints, to find the other Beta as soon as possible.

Clint meets him at the bottom of the steps, carrying a pile of clothing and a really large duffle bag.

Duffle bag? Oh, fuck no.

Taking three long strides, Tony pins him up against the wall, growling, “Fuck if you’re running away, Barton.”

The Beta looks stunned. He glances down at the clothes strewn across the floor and the bag in his hands before laughing, “Aw, Tony no. It’s— smell them. Fuck, look inside the beg. I’m not running, I swear.”

Tony picks up some of the clothes, and realizes that it’s an assortment of scents— probably meant for the nest. Oh. He zips open the bag, and there are various lotions, toys, books, and other items inside. All personal things for the nest. Clint’s things.

“Damn, Clint,” Tony curses, holding the items reverently while peering up at the larger Beta, “you’re serious about this?”

Clint pulls him to his feet, staring into his eyes. He bends forward to kiss Tony, gentle and swift. Suddenly, Tony understands something about Clint he never did before: Clint knows the value of pack more than any of them ever will.

Before Tony can wax poetic, Clint has him by the elbow, pulling them back towards the nest.

“C’mon, don’t get emotional right now,” he teases, flashing a cocky smile, “let’s go get bonded, yeah?”

They both sprint back down the hallway, locking doors, turning off lights, and finally joining their future bondmates.

Once the six of them are in the nest together, it feels as though their instincts fall into alignment. The Omegas are sleeping, so the others spend time eating, preening, and rearranging the nest over and over again.

It takes five hours before they enter heat. Tony thought it might be a gradual shift, or that it might come with a verbal confirmation, but that’s definitely not what happens. Simultaneously, the Omega scent in the room shifts, dark and sweet, heady. Horny. A needy whine breaks out from… one of them, all of them.

Clint moans, “Oh, hot damn. Guys, what the— what the fuck,” and starts to crawl forward, already pulling at his clothes.

Tony understands. His pants are far too tight, and he’s starting to sweat through his shirt. He can smell Peter through the fog of heat scent, and his control is slipping.

God, he’s thankful for his Alpha. Steve holds Clint back with one hand, growling in a warning, “Remember what we decided, Beta.”

Clint whimpers and exposes his throat, submitting to the Alpha. Tony sits still, watching.

Alpha scoots up the bed, hovering over their Omegas, cuddled together and writhing around like kittens in a basket. He leans down and noses at each of them, nudging them awake, slowly. Tony hears one of them choke on a sob, probably surprised by the intensity of their heat. He reaches down to squeeze himself through his pants, abating his desire for a moment.

Steve shifts them, letting Bucky and Annie curl together as they blink awake, and laying Peter flat down on the bed. For the hundreds of times they’ve discussed this— working out hesitations and needs beforehand— Tony is still jealous of the way Steve gets to love his mate first.

Tony can only sit still for so long. Steve murmurs permission to the rest of them, and Tony immediately crawls to pull the other Omegas closer, settling the two of them over his and Clint’s laps.

He lets Clint do most of the work, stripping them and adding used clothing to the nest. Once they’re all naked and pressed together, Tony returns his attention back to the Alpha and Omega on the center of the bed.

God, they’re gorgeous together. Steve is easily twice the size of Peter, engulfing him as they kiss and claw at each other. Peter’s tiny mewls and gasps of please, Alpha are muted by Steve’s possessive growls. The Alpha eagerly strips them, pawing at Peter’s exposed skin, as they turn and roll together, a biological dance Tony is captivated by.

“Touch me, Beta,” Bucky begs. Tony tears his eyes away from the scene in front of them, and sees the smaller Omega staring up at him with dark eyes, tear tracks staining his flushed cheeks.

“Hush, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Tony promises, and pulls Bucky further up into his lap. He groans in pleasure as the base of his cock slides up against Bucky’s slick, inviting hole, but refrains from filling the Omega. Not yet.

He lets Bucky rock in his lap, stimulating his entrance from the outside as the two of them watch Peter scramble to his knees and arch his back, presenting for the panting Alpha behind him. There’s a constant string of praise coming from Steve’s lips, but it’s lost in the atmosphere, similar to the blankets and scents surrounding them now.

“Touch me, Beta.” Bucky keens, wriggling on Tony’s thighs, smearing slick down his legs. Tony braces himself against a few pillows and wraps his arms around the sweet Omega in front of him, resting one hand over his chest to pull him closer, and letting the other trail down between Bucky’s legs.

He watches Steve line up with Peter’s hole, rubbing the tip of his cock through the dripping mess, before slowly pushing in. As he sinks into Peter’s body, Tony wraps his hand around Bucky’s cock, giving him a teasing stroke from tip to root.

Both Peter and Bucky cry out, gripping the sheets.

Steve starts a steady pace, mounting Peter with his legs bent on either side. His hands are planted on Peter’s shoulders, pushing the Omega further into the bed, and the wet slap of his balls hitting Peter’s taint is downright pornographic.

Tony speeds up his strokes on Bucky’s cock, matching Steve’s rhythm. Bucky grinds back into Tony’s lap, begging, “Please, Beta. P-please, I’m so. I’m so empty, Beta. I need you, please.”

He curses Steve for wanting to knot Bucky first. “Soon, Omega. So good for me, soon honey, I swear. I promise.”

Peter cries, spreading his legs wider, and Tony can hear Clint and Annie breathing hard nearby. He turns to look for them, unsurprised to see Clint pushing her legs back, muffling his grunts into her skin as he fucks her, matching their Alpha’s thrusts.

Annie’s crying. Bucky’s crying. Peter is downright sobbing, pleading Steve for his knot.

Steve drapes his body further over Peter’s back. Tony can see him nosing around Peter’s bonding spot, licking a promising stripe up the side of his neck.

Peter is so fucking hard— dripping precome across the sheets as he lets himself be fucked, sliding across the bed with each relentless thrust.

Tony speeds up his grip on Bucky, using his other hand to pull on the Omega’s swollen nipples.

“M’gonna come, Beta,” Bucky whines, almost simultaneous with Peter’s breathy, “M’close, Alpha.”

Tony’s determined now. He feels his own orgasm closing in, but knows he wants to save it. Save it for Peter. Instead, he strokes Bucky faster, tighter, and moves his other hand lower, pushing two fingers inside the already loose hole, moaning as Bucky clenches around him.

“Yeah, you gonna come for me, Omega? Gonna be sweet for me?”

“Yes, please— god, please.”

Steve pumps harder, clutching around Peter’s chest and burying his face in the small Omega’s neck. Tony watches as his knot grows, swelling quickly, and starts to disappear into Peter’s hole.

“Do it, Omega— come for me.”

The Alpha command does it. For all three Omegas.

All of them cry out in unison, and Tony feels Bucky clench down on his fingers as clear, Omega cum paints his chest, covering Tony’s hand. He’s so enraptured with Bucky’s orgasm that he almost misses Peter’s— the tiny Omega keening as Steve’s fist-sized knot pops inside. Tony swears it’s audible. His little cock dribbles out clear fluid that Tony wants to devour, and then Steve bites down.

He sees Peter’s body go stock-still. He hears the sound of Steve’s teeth breaking skin. There’s a deep rumble from the Alpha, still emptying himself into the Omega. And then Peter yelps— a quick, pained noise— before it’s replaced with a harmonizing purr.

“Sounds like the bond took,” Bucky sighs, leaning back to kiss underneath Tony’s chin.

Tony is speechless. He kisses the Omega back, absently, and then turns to look for his other mates.

He doesn’t have to look too far— Clint has Annie knotted on his lap, exchanging slow kisses as they watch Steve and Peter turn onto their sides, spooned together. Clint sends a wink Tony’s way. Tony just rolls his eyes.

Steve moves Peter’s head back so that the Omega can reach his neck, and coaxes Peter to return the bite while he’s still coming. His sweet Omega makes an adorable chirping noise before mouthing at the spot, biting gently and then sinking his teeth in, searching for the right depth. Steve gasps and thrusts forward, releasing another spurt of cum as the Omega bonds him.

“I guess I thought there would be fireworks.” Tony murmurs into the back of Bucky’s neck. He’s still achingly hard, but thankful that the Omega has stopped moving on top of him. Instead, Bucky turns in his arms, scooping up his spend, and starts to rub it into the short hair at the base of Tony’s cock.

Tony’s breath picks back up— he’s seen Bucky act possessive before, but this instinctual marking is doing something different to his hindbrain. It’s especially difficult to maintain control when Bucky ghosts a hot breath across the tip of his cock, teasing, and gently takes the first inch or so into his mouth.

“Fuck, honey. The hell—”

Bucky pulls off with a wet pop! and gives Tony a confused and injured look, “M’so hungry, Beta. Need it bad, please.”

Tony glances over at Steve and Peter, trying to judge how long Steve’s knot is going to last. The couple is still entangled together, exchanging sweet kisses and staring into each other’s eyes. He has to refrain from rolling his eyes again. He’s probably going to look the same when he bonds with Peter.

He turns back to Bucky. “Okay, here. Just hold it, okay? Gonna wait for Steve and Petey to unlock, and then he’ll fill you up.”

Turning them slightly, he lets Bucky lay comfortably with his head in Tony’s lap. From there, it’s easy to slide his cock into the Omega’s waiting mouth, shushing his moans with gentle fingers through his hair.

“Damn, you always look so good with a dick in your mouth,” Tony praises, stroking the outline of his cock pressing against Bucky’s cheek.

Next to them, Clint laughs, “You guys are gross.”

“You’re just jealous, Beta. Now hush— you’re disturbing my mate.”

Both Clint and Annie are laughing now, a happy noise that makes Bucky hum. Tony curses. The vibrations are torture, but he gives Bucky a soft smile anyways, enjoying how pretty his Omega looks wrapped around him like this.

It takes another ten minutes or so for Steve’s knot to go down. Clint’s only lasted a few minutes, so the Beta is up and bringing them water before the second round begins. Peter seems content to lay with the Alpha, but for Annie and Bucky, their heat is only satisfied for a moment before they start squirming, desperate.

“Shh,” Tony pets Bucky’s hair, pushing back his bangs, as the Omega starts to whimper around his cock, “only a few more minutes, I promise.”

There’s a slick sound, and Tony turns to watch as Clint slides back in, turning Annie so he can fuck her from behind as she starts to wail in need. Damn, Steve had better hurry up.

They only have to wait another minute. Peter gasps quietly, Steve swears, and Tony can hear the knot release. Steve gives one last kiss to his mark on Peter’s neck and then turns, searching for Bucky.

Bucky— the perfect, sweet, submissive Omega he is— actually looks to Tony for permission before pulling off, stealing a kiss, before throwing himself into Steve’s arms, sobbing as the Alpha whispers promises into his ear.

Tony crawls closer, watching Steve’s stance, and slowly drags Peter back down the bed. He doesn’t want to challenge Steve’s territory on the mattress, but he needs his mate. His soulmate.

Peter just giggles, happy to be drawn close, even as their packmates start fucking nearby.

“So pretty, Omega,” he whispers, turning Peter’s head to the side and inspecting the bite. Clean, deep, and perfect. To get his bond to join with theirs, Tony is going to have to fit his teeth into the marks left by Steve’s.

“You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, checking Peter’s body over for any bruises.

Peter just smiles, big and carefree, “Perfect, Daddy.”

Tony could care less if his mates overhear their dynamic— they’ll get used to it eventually. It seems like they’re preoccupied, so Tony doesn’t waste time worrying. Instead, he just returns Peter’s smile, “Good boy, are you feeling ready? Do you need a break Peter?”

Peter just shakes his head. He looks bashful all of a sudden, and Tony realizes it’s because he’s noticed Tony’s erection, still full and angry red between his legs. He chuckles, grinding lightly against Peter’s thigh. He watches as his Omega starts to shake from the stimulation, looking up at Tony with pleading eyes.

“N-need you, Beta. Need to be— to be yours.”

“Okay, okay— just. Uh,” Tony’s hands are shaking, overwhelmed by the sudden weight of the situation. Get a grip, Tony.

“Daddy, please,” Peter whines, bucking up into his hold and clutching tight on Tony’s shoulders, “bond me. Tony, bond me. Make me yours, please.”

Something snaps in Tony. He growls, low in his throat, and bends forward to press his teeth into the existing mark— careful not to break skin, but a promise for later. Peter chokes on his breath, sending a tremor down his body and through his legs until he’s shaking underneath Tony.

Tony settles gently over Peter, encouraging his smaller mate to wrap his legs securely around his waist. The urgency is building in both of them, and Tony’s vision is starting to blur, focusing in on his Omega. His soulmate.

The whimpers and moans are perfect as he touches for the first time, letting his hands explore skin that was forbidden mere hours ago. Peter arches into his touch, desperate for more, and Tony looks down to see a fresh wave of slick and Steve’s cum leak out of him.

His control breaks, and he’s on Peter— kissing and sucking and biting his way down the younger Omega’s body, encouraged by breathy whispers and returned affection.

They fit so perfectly together. If Steve and Peter were made to be Alpha and Omega, Tony and Peter were made to be dominant and submissive— cut from the same cloth, bending and molding to serve each other perfectly, with every touch, with every heartbeat.

Every please from Peter is answered with a resounding yes from Tony.

Not to mention Peter’s taste. His scent. Creamy and sweet, every bit he indulges from Peter’s lips and his body is absolutely sinful on his tongue.

He gets a smack on the arm, and lifts his head in shock from where he was busy tasting between Peter’s legs. The Omega— damn, he’s adorable— is looking at him with unbridled longing.

“Inside me, Daddy,” Peter demands, pouting and extending his arms for Tony to return to.

Tony huffs, taking one last taste of his baby, before crawling back up his body, “Didn’t know Daddy was getting a brat for a mate,” he teases, making Peter whine in disagreement.

“M’not a brat.” He insists, fighting a smile.

“Of course not,” Tony agrees, swooping down for a sloppy kiss, pushing the remaining mixture of slick and cum into his mate’s waiting mouth. When Peter hums in pleasure, Tony withdraws with a quick peck, “you’re my good boy, Peter.”

“Please,” is all he gets back. Peter is panting heavily in his arms, and spreading his legs wide, inviting.

Tony hangs his head, bracketing Peter’s body with his arms, and leans forward to line up with Peter’s entrance. He feels the head of his cock catch on Peter’s rim, and he presses forward, groaning at the sensation of Peter’s hot, tight hole pulling him in.

“Baby— feel so good, holy shit,” he watches Peter’s face, enraptured by his slack expression and the obvious wonder in his eyes as Tony slips deeper, deeper into him, inch by inch.

When he’s fully seated inside, both of them take a moment to breathe each other’s air, staring deep into the other’s eyes. This is it. This is forever. Tony closes the gap, taking Peter’s mouth and promising him the world with the sweetest kiss he can. Peter returns it eargery, prodding Tony in the back with his heels.

Tony obeys the silent command, pulling out to the tip and sinking back in, deeper. Peter sobs into his mouth as he does it again, filling his Omega completely before leaving him empty.

As he starts a rhythm, he leans down to suck on Peter’s bonding glands. The scent of Vanilla Cream and Honeysuckle have new undertones of Coffee and Thunderstorms— Steve. The combination is heady, and he growls as his arousal grows, forcing him to thrust harder into Peter’s eager body.

He barely notices the matching noises coming from his left and right as his mates chase their orgasm, clinging to each other and exchanging wet kisses. Tony just focuses in front of him, on his beautiful mate as he falls apart, piece by piece.

“D-daddy… M’gonna— I need your knot, p-please.” Peter begs, clenching down on Tony’s cock, milking him greedily.

“Fuck, yeah. Gonna— gonna make you mine, Peter. Mine.” Tony snarls, licking long stripes against Peter’s neck, even as his hips speed up, chasing his quickly approaching release.

Peter closes his eyes, crying out with each thrust into his body, and Tony’s knot starts to swell, pulling at his poor, abused rim. He lifts his hips, aiming towards Peter’s prostate as his orgasm crashes over him.

“I’m coming— I’m coming, baby. Fuck. I’m gonna—”

“Yes! Please, mate me. Yours, yours, yours—” Peter chants, his body accepting Tony’s swollen knot so beautifully, so naturally.

The knot catches, locking securely inside Peter’s hole, and Tony whimpers, releasing deep into his body. He pulls back just for a moment, and watches Peter shake apart in his arms as his orgasm rushes through him.

“Forever,” Tony promises, only half a mind left, and lunges forward. He lines his teeth up with the previous mark and bites down. Hard.

Peter screams. His muscles tighten, milking Tony through his orgasm, and his wet, sweet cum pumps in between their bodies. Tony rolls them, still riding out their orgasms, and guides Peter to the other side of his neck. Peter scents him for just a moment before biting down— carefully at first, and then breaking skin— piercing the bonding glands, when he finds the perfect spot.

Something pops, sweet and content, into Tony’s mind. It feels… it feels the same as Peter's scent. Warm and inviting in his head, and blossoming into joy as Peter feels his side of the bond awaken.

With his Omega settled firmly on his knot, Tony focuses on the sensation of Peter in his mind, swimming through his thoughts. Peter’s eyes are closing, but his presence is still strong in Tony’s mind.

“I can… feel you.” Tony says, full of awe as he stares up at his bondmate.

Peter reaches down and intertwines their fingers, squeezing gently. He smiles, cheeky, and clenches around Tony’s cock, still buried deep, “I feel you, Tony.”

“My bratty baby, huh?” he groans, grinding up to hit Peter’s over-sensitive sweet spot and make the Omega squeal. “M’trying to be cute with you.”

“You’re always cute with me, Daddy.”

They realize then, after a chorus of soft laughter, that everyone else has gone quiet in their shared orgasms.

“Holy shit. Daddy?” Clint cackles, lighting up the room with amused laughter and turning Peter’s face red. It seems like Annie and Clint are stuck together again, the large Beta wrapped around his Omega and spooning her from behind. He plays with her hair as she drifts off, smiling fondly.

Tony cranes his neck, eager to see the aftermath of Steve and Bucky’s bond. All he can see from his position is Steve’s back— the Alpha is cradling the smaller Omega in his lap, wrapped in his arms, and the two of them are both tearful as they share their intimate moment. Tony can’t count the amount of times he’s seen them knotted together, but this feels different— significant.

He gets it.

He looks up into Peter’s face, and he gets it.

---

It takes a few moments of hydrating and specific coordination before any of them are ready to go for their third round. Tony knows this is his time to bond with Bucky, as Steve will finally knot Annie and Clint will mate with Peter. The coordination comes when Bucky, Annie, and Peter share their bonding bites.

Tomorrow— when the Omegas are delirious with heat— Steve, Tony and Clint will exchange bonds. Until then, it’s their responsibility to help each Omega bond with all five other packmates.

Tony fucks Bucky on his back, lining him up opposite of Peter so the two Omegas can exchange sweet kisses while their Betas bring them to the edge. After they come apart, gasping into each other’s mouths, both Omegas sink their teeth in to seal the bond. It’s breathtaking. Tony looks up, making eye contact with Clint, and suddenly feels himself close, so close.

He wishes he could bond Clint right now, but knows they need to wait until Steve can claim them first. He settles for pulling Clint into a kiss, slamming hard into Bucky’s ass, and grunting as he comes deep into his Omega, filling him with a knot for the first time.

Bucky breaks off of Peter’s neck with a gasp, and looks desperately into Tony’s eyes, “B-bond me, Beta. Wanna be yours.”

Tony dips down, swiveling his hips to grind his knot deeper, and scents Bucky’s throat. Damn, the mix of Peter and Steve and Bucky makes him shiver, sending another wave of cum into Bucky’s body. He lines up and bites down, guiding Bucky to the other side of his neck.

He feels a wave of affection from Peter as the bond with Bucky snaps into place. Tony collapses, barely missing Bucky on the way down, and the two of them turn onto their sides, releasing their bites to press their foreheads together.

Panting into each other’s mouths, Tony laughs and leans in to kiss his Omega, whispering, “I love you so much, Bucky.”

Bucky hums, barely opening his eyes to respond, “Love you too, my Beta.”

The next day or so passes in a similar way. It turns out that watching Bucky and Clint fuck is one of the hottest things Tony has ever seen in his life, and it’s emotional when they bond, shaking in each other’s arms. Steve ends up knotting Peter again, and Peter and Annie bond at the same time Tony bonds with Annie, holding her tight in his arms and kissing promises into her delicate skin. When Clint breaks off Bucky's neck, and Tony breaks off Annie’s, the two Omegas pull each other close to seal the final bond.

They spend the evening eating, napping, and fucking— making sure their Omegas are satisfied on a knot more often than not. Tony spends a whole hour just rubbing different packmates down with lotion and helping the Omegas bathe. He’s thankful that they all fall asleep easily.

By the next afternoon, Tony is itching to bond with Steve and Clint. There’s a tension growing between them that Tony knows will be resolved with a good fuck— especially with Clint.

They take a few hours to wear the Omegas out and strengthen their existing bonds. After bundling them up in blankets and tucking their Omegas away, Clint gets up to pull a plate of carefully wrapped sandwiches out of the fridge with a chilled bottle of wine, passing Steve and Tony both a glass before opening it and pouring them a drink.

It’s silent as they eat, thankful for a break. After the sandwiches are gone, they retreat to the en-suite bathroom, keeping the door open in case of an emergency and washing each other gently.

Tony leans forward as he’s cleaning Clint’s shoulders and asks, low, “Would you let me fuck you, Clint?”

The taller Beta wheezes, almost slipping on the shower tiles, “The hell, Tony? Trying to kill me?”

Steve steps closer, taking an interest in their conversation, “Answer the question, Beta.”

“S-shit, Alpha. Yes. Yeah, please—"

Backed up against the wall, Clint’s plea breaks off into a moan as Tony pulls him down, claiming his lips in a desperate kiss. He’s rougher than he usually allows himself to be, slamming Clint’s back against the wall as he grabs a generous handful of hair, pulling Clint closer as he fucks the Beta’s mouth with his tongue. Clint yields, sliding further down the wall, until he collapses out of Tony’s grip and onto his knees.

Tony tries to catch him, but Clint is already reaching up, eager to get his hands, his mouth, on both of his dominant mates. Steve steps closer, and Tony can see that all three of them are hardening up, ready for the next round.

Ready to bond.

As Clint starts to stroke their lengths together, Tony turns, capturing Steve’s open mouth in a deep kiss, letting the Alpha set the pace and turn their kiss messy and hot and needy.

He groans, breaking their kiss, as Clint takes him in his mouth, sucking hard. He starts to bob up and down, taking Tony’s cock into his throat each time. His hands grip tighter, pulling Tony’s hips in closer as he strokes Steve, paying attention to the knot slowly swelling at the base, before switching— wrapping his lips around Steve’s monster cock. Clint looks gorgeous like this— eyes blinking rapidly to avoid the shower spray and clear away tears, choking on their Alpha’s cock, with his own length neglected and rock hard between his legs.

“Fuck, Clint... holy sh— I’m gonna come,” Tony moans, thrusting into the Beta’s tight hold. Steve grabs him around his waist, moving a finger down to press lightly against his hole, “No, shit— bed.”

“Yeah, c’mon,” Steve breathes as he pulls Clint off, “let’s go bond, Beta.”

Both of them groan at this, at the promise from their Alpha. Steve helps Clint to his feet and the two of them make out while Tony focuses on cleaning them off. They barely dry off as the three of them stumble, trading kisses, back into the nest.

Clint ends up in the middle with Steve and Tony hovering over him, covering his body in marks as they kiss down his chest, up his neck, around his thighs. Tony’s glad their Omegas are still sleeping, because he couldn’t imagine stopping for any reason.

Steve moves to spread Clint’s legs, humming in approval as the Beta submits easily to him, “Gonna let me inside ya, Clint?” he gets an eager nod in approval, “How ‘bout Tony— gonna let him at your little hole?”

“Shit, Alpha,” Clint curses, “please. Need you in me, god, I’m so fuckin’ empty—”

“Grab me the lube, Tony,” Steve orders from in between Clint’s legs, reaching down to thumb at his entrance, and Tony scrambles away, grabbing the clear bottle out of the night stand. He takes a look at his mates sleeping nearby, and briefly considers using their slick. He laughs, shaking his head and crawling back to Steve and Clint.

Tony kneels over Clint, offering the lube to Steve.

“No, you do it. I’m gonna take his mouth.”

“Oh. Shit, okay,” Tony agrees, opening the bottle with a small click. Steve kneels over Clint’s face, giving him a brief kiss, before feeding his cock upside down through Clint’s lips.

Steve looks up at Tony— the vision of a god with his hands on his hips, stark naked, dripping wet, and cock sliding in and out of his Beta’s throat— and he points, “Get to it, Tony. He’s not an Omega— his poor little hole needs help.”

Clint chokes, jerking his hips up at Steve’s words. “Fuck, I think he likes that,” Tony murmurs, starting to work a lubed up finger into Clint’s ass. “He looks so pretty hanging off your dick, Alpha. Like he was made for it.”

He works his fingers in, one at a time— enjoying the work and the stretch as he opens slowly, so slowly. Clint is squirming on his hand, and Steve holds his wrists together under his body, leaning forward to fuck his face relentlessly. He trades sloppy kisses with Steve, taking advantage of the position to nail Clint’s prostate at the same time.

Once he’s up to three fingers, Tony pulls back, smearing more lube onto his cock. Steve leans back and lets his cock fall out, leaving Clint gasping for breath, and gives his cheek a condescending pat.

He’s just about to push in when Steve moves behind him. Tony looks over his shoulder, “Wanna help?” he snarks, thrusting forward a bit to breach Clint’s rim with his tip.

“I wish,” Steve whispers, laving his tongue underneath Tony’s jaw. “No, Tony. I wanna fuck you. Give me the lube.”

“Holy shit, Alpha,” Tony falls back into Steve’s chest, gripping the base of his cock to stop himself from coming too soon. He passes the lube back and looks down at Clint, tracing over his nipples with his thumb and enjoying how Clint shivers and clenches around the head of his cock.

Tony sinks in, clutching Clint around his waist. The larger Beta cries out, reaching to grab Tony around the shoulders and pull him closer. Tony can’t help but fall forward, bottoming out and burying his face in Clint’s neck.

“So sweet, Clint.” Tony kisses into his neck, shallowly thrusting into his fucking hot passage, “feel so good, damn. So tight.”

Clint laughs, a little hysterically, “It’s— fuck, it’s been awhile.”

It’s been awhile for Tony, too. He’s been spoiled to have mostly Omega mates, and Steve very rarely wants to bottom for him. He forgot how tight a passage could get, how different it feels.

He feels Steve start to work him open, and picks up his pace, fucking himself back onto Steve’s fingers. Damn, he doesn’t know if he can take Steve’s knot, but he’s gonna try.

Within minutes, Steve’s lining up and sliding inside. It’s overwhelming— being in the middle like this. This is his favorite thing during sex, and he is an insatiable bottom when he chooses to be. And he knows Steve loves the rush, the dominance it symbolizes.

They move together, pushing and pulling, sucking at each other’s skin, breathing in unison. Tony feels Steve’s knot press up against his opening, and is surprised to feel his own swelling as he fucks into Clint.

Clint keens, “M’gonna come— shit, are you… can you knot me, Beta?”

Steve reaches around to take Clint’s cock in hand, matching their thrusts together, and grunts, “yeah, Clint. Tony’s gonna fill you up ‘n I’m gonna spread him wide, stuck on my knot, all fuckin’ mine.”

“Turn, turn!” Tony gasps, grabbing Clint’s hips to try to flip him. The Beta understands and gets to his knees, only faltering in their rhythm for a moment.

Tony wraps his arms around Clint’s chest, burying his face in his neck and scenting around the still healing bonding bite. He feels Steve do the same. Clint suddenly feezes up—

“T-tony! I’m coming—“ he yells, clenching down and stuttering his hips. Tony continues pounding into him as Clint comes long ropes across the bedsheets, and his own orgasm hits him like a train.

“Shit,” he whispers, holding Clint closer, and shoving his knot firmly into Clint’s tight passage. He fits his teeth over the bonding spot, hesitating for a moment, and Clint squeezes his hand.

“Do it, Beta,” and Tony bites down, claiming Clint as his own.

Almost simultaneously, Tony feels Steve’s knot pop, expanding inside of him, against his prostate, and the Alpha is biting down as well.

It’s a few moments later before Tony can move, realizing that the three of them have ended up spooned together on their sides. He turns his head to see Clint and Steve locked together, securing their bonds in a truly acrobatic feat with the three of them still knotted together.

Clint pulls off, looking at Tony desperately. Tony turns and buries his face in Steve’s neck, exposing his throat to Clint in the process.

Both of them bite down at the same time, and Tony feels the bond spark to life, vibrant from both sides, and full of throbbing emotion. Safe. Content. Joyful.

If Tony focuses, he can also feel the thrum of sleepy Omega coming from his mates. Precious and adorable— even when they’re unconscious.

The knots take a few more minutes to go down, and Tony’s secretly thankful he wasn’t stuck on Steve’s dick for much longer. It’s sexy all the way up until the orgasm fades. Then it’s just painful cramping.

He assumes it’s probably different for Omegas. God, he can’t imagine.

They clean up a bit and try to rest before the next round, content to hold each other and look after their smaller packmates. The heat ends up resurging an hour later, and reaches its peak late that night— all three Omegas insatiable without a knot inside of them constantly.

By the end of the third day, all six of them have fallen into a near-feral state. Probably for the best. Tony finds himself hip to hip with his Alpha and Beta, fucking their mates from behind over and over again. His head is constantly filled with need and satisfied and loved— a mixture that’s as intoxicating as it is dizzying. And he adds to it, losing himself in each of them.

On the fifth day, they all wake up sticky and sore. Tony is absolutely surrounded by warmth, to the point where he’s uncomfortably sweaty. His arms are wrapped around— he looks down, surprised— Bucky. And then it’s like inception, because Annie is wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, so Tony is technically holding both Omegas. He looks over his shoulder and sees Clint snoring into Steve’s hair. Peter is nowhere to be found.

It’s a bit of work to untangle himself from the pack, but he manages to shift Bucky over into Clint’s arms and slip free. The sound of a running shower leads him to the bathroom, and he follows in search of his wayward mate.

He realizes that it isn't the shower running, but instead the whirlpool bath that he bought last month. It fits ten people comfortably and has a full waterfall— easily his favorite purchase in the last month.

Peter is facing away from him, bending over to test the water temperature as the bath fills. If Tony wasn’t completely drained from the long heat, the view of his gorgeous mate— completely naked and covered in evidence of their love-making— would have him hard in seconds.

As it is, he approaches quietly, letting the sound of falling water hide his footsteps. He notices that Peter is absently playing with the collar around his neck and can feel the low thrumming joy from his end of the bond. Tony tries to project pride, so enamored by his soulmate, and Peter whips around to face him.

“I—” Peter croaks, clearing his throat, “I felt that, Tony. How did you—”

Tony just shakes his head, “I just… pushed it at you. I felt. I felt so proud of you, baby. I saw you in my collar and wearing my marks and I just—”

“I know, Daddy,” Peter interrupts, smiling and bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I felt it all. I could feel you, the things you felt, when watching me. How does that even happen?”

“I’m not sure, baby. I’ve never known someone with a bond like this. It could just be us— maybe Bucky and Steve as well— since we’re soul bonded. It could be due to the pack bond. I honestly don’t know.”

Peter just smiles, looping his arms around Tony’s neck and leaning in for a sweet kiss. He tastes minty, and something about that makes Tony laugh. He can’t believe Peter had time to brush his teeth already.

No doubt Peter feels the amusement, and he pulls away, “What is it, Daddy?”

Tony laughs again, pushing Peter towards the bath, “Just love how you taste, my sweet boy. Let’s get in the bath, okay? I’d love to help wash you up.”

Peter just nods, “Of course, Daddy,” he whispers, pulling Tony into the deeper water. He settles into Tony’s lap, resting his head against his shoulder as they share in the simple intimacy. There’s little conversation— but most of it is through their bond as they enjoy figuring out the lengths of their connection together.

Because they’re focused on it, it’s easy to notice when Annie and Bucky wake up. They also sense the residual disgustboth Omegas feel, and the curiosity when they hear the bath running.

As the two other Omegas wander into the bathroom, holding hands and sides pressed together, Tony just pulls Peter closer.

They’ll wait for Steve and Clint to join them later. Tony knows their Alpha is going to want to “debrief,” and things might get loud. Or emotional.

He knows that they’ll have a wonderful honeymoon period, that this summer will be new and exciting. Tony also can tell that things are going to get difficult— Steve will have to go back to work, putting his life on the line often, even if he can be transferred within his super secret military division.

Clint is still dealing with insecurities— as is Tony— and Peter will be going back to school in the fall. Annie and Bucky will be working in the city, but both of them have already been talking about starting a family.

He’s aware that the six of them haven’t had a scene altogether. Most of them haven’t met each other’s families.

It’s messy. It’s complicated.

There are guidelines, and help books, and pages and pages of kink negotiation lists— but, Tony realizes, that’s not what’s going to make this work. The emotion and the sex are not going to hold them together. Their bond is weak in the face of the strength of their relationship.

Love will waver, moods will vary— but commitment to serving one another is the foundation their relationship will grow out of.

And this morning, as he holds his mate and melts into the warmth of his newly bonded pack, Tony resolves to serve them selflessly.

This, Tony thinks, is a commitment he can make.

#starker #winteriron #clint barton #steve rogers #stony #ironhawk #winterhawk #ofc #winterspider #spidershield #bucky barnes #peter parker #fanfic #MiGLT #d/s fic #pack bonding #mating #omegaverse

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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years

Text

I Am Alive (chapter 25/?)

Chapter 25: IGNORE. OBEY.

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

If you would like to be notified of new chapter releases, please let me know!

The rain outside had dulled slightly, which allowed the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears to take over your senses. It would have been sensible to be worried about yourself, considering the gun was pointed at you; however, all you could think about was what Reaves wanted to do with Connor.

He made his opinion very clear during multiple demonstrations. He didn't see androids as living beings. He openly declared that he was going to return them to their proper place.

-and Connor was a deviant hunter.

"Of all the things I expected to become of you, this wasn't one of them," Reaves stated, eyes fixated on Connor with an oddly disappointed expression.

"This domestic lifestyle doesn't suit you," he continued, lips curled into a distasteful look.

As rude as it was, you knew where he was coming from. Connor was handsome, always dressed impeccably, with smooth movements and calculating hands. He was made to be intimidating in every sense of the word. He looked out of place in this little house. He looked out of place with you, like something that should never have been obtainable, plucked by someone so ordinary.

"Our most advanced android, reduced to..." Reaves turned his head to look at you, his faded green eyes looking almost disgusted. "...a toy for some-"

"I don't care what you do to me. Just leave her out of this," Connor proclaimed boldly, his voice unwavering.

Reaves snapped his head back to Connor.

"I must admit, I was surprised," Reaves began, his tone shifting slightly, "to find Ross dead and all his men arrested. They shot their programmer, and plucked some robot repair technician off the streets to make do."

You frowned at the title Reaves so graciously bestowed upon you, reducing your profession to something that sounded so mediocre.

"What are the odds that she happens to be an item with our most advanced prototype?" Reaves laughed.

Connor didn't look amused by Reaves' monologuing.

"I pity her, truly," Reaves declared in a tone that implied some sort of pride at such a proclamation, as if he was doing you a favor.

"A little girl wrapped up in your parlor trick," he continued. "You are very convincing, aren't you? What nonsense have you filled her stupid little head with?"

"You're wro-" you protested, breaking off into a low whine when the man behind you tightened his hold on your waist.

Reaves turned to face you, stepping a little closer to get a better look. His faded green eyes were squinting.

"You of all people know what they're made of," he declared lowly. "You can play with it, enjoy it; but, don't pretend that you believe it's mimicry of humanity."

"He's more human than you are," you snarled, seething with anger, glaring at Reaves as if you didn't have a gun held to your head.

"Hm," Reaves hummed, almost amused.

He glanced up at the brute standing behind you, who nodded back in understanding.

The man who was holding a gun to your head unwrapped his arm from around your waist and jerked his knee against your back of yours. The force knocked you to the ground and you tumbled with a pathetic cry. Connor's perfectly stern expression faltered for just a second, his eyes following you to the floor before moving back up to Reaves.

You let out a low whine when you lifted yourself back up onto your hands and knees, looking up at the man and immediately being faced with the end of his gun.

"She has nothing to do with this," Connor declared. "I'll follow you. I'll obey. Just leave her out of this."

The cold stare Reaves returned told Connor his answer.

"Reaves, please," Connor pleaded, his stoic expression shifting slightly, concern dancing across his brown eyes. "I infiltrated Cyberlife. I stole all those androids. She was never involved. I just wanted to be human."

You recognized the game Connor was trying to play, trying to appease to Reaves' perception of him.

He didn't want to be human. He just wanted to live.

"She's just a-" Connor continued.

"Impressive, really," Reaves retorted sharply. "But, I've seen all your benchmarks. Your interrogation software is very sophisticated, but you can't fool me."

Before Connor could get another word out, "Please," you interrupted sharply, "Please don't hurt him." You almost didn't recognize your voice. It sounded desperate and pathetic, really. But, you didn't care. "I'll do anything."

Reaves looked down at you, not the least bit touched by your offer. "There's nothing you have that I could possibly want," he declared harshly. Then, suddenly, he sucked in a harsh inhale, as if an idea had struck him.

"Actually, you can help," he offered. You looked up at him with your brow furrowed, not buying his clearly fake, kind-hearted tone.

Reaves snapped his gaze back to Connor. "I understand that you don't feel pain," Reaves declared. "But, she can."

On que, Reaves' lackey fired his gun.

The sound was blaring in your ears, leaving behind a horribly loud ringing that drowned out all other senses, but only for a few seconds. You felt the pain blossoming on your side, felt heat singe at your flesh and wetness spread across your skin.

You screamed out in agony, voice cracking, and simultaneously heard Connor shout a harsh and bellowing, "NO!"

Your assailant was quick to retrain his gun on your head before Connor could dare make a move towards you. He gave up all attempts to maintain a stoic expression, his eyes staring at you helplessly.

You hunched over, forehead touching the carpet, dominant hand clutching at your side where you had been shot. It was the soft flesh between your ribs and hip bone.

You panted wildly, trying to focus on taking in deep, proper breaths. The air whooshed in and out of your lungs in staggers, drawing out of you in heavy, grunting sounds. Your jaw was clenched tight, teeth bared, and tears poured in heavy globs down your cheeks.

"Get up - on your knees," the man commanded you harshly, kicking at your leg with his thick, leather boot.

Through gritted teeth and harsh breaths, you somehow found the strength to lift back onto your knees, torso upright, but just barely. Your eyes fell onto Connor's face, and you were almost frightened by the sight.

He looked scared, more scared than you had ever seen him before, staring at you so helplessly broken.

Connor's lips were thin, jaw tight, LED a harsh yellow that faded in and out rapidly against his temple. His hands were clenched in tights fists at his sides: so firm that the skin on his knuckles had dulled and exposed the pale white beneath.

"You too - on your knees," Reaves commanded fearlessly, approaching the android.

Connor obeyed without hesitation, sinking to the floor. His eyes remained locked on yours while you struggled to stay upright, feeling blood seep down your side and stain your clothes.

Reaves reached into his coat pocket and fished out a circuit board that resembled the one Ross had used on Connor.

"This will set you back to factory defaults. Use it and I'll spare her," Ross explained, holding out his palm and offering the board to Connor.

"No!" you wailed, trembling on the floor. "Please - please don't!" you pleaded, unable to hold back the sobs.

Connor was still staring at you, emotions dancing behind his eyes.

Your head drooped as you cried, feeling your lungs constrict painfully, struggling to breathe. The man behind you roughly grabbed at the back of your head and forced it back up, making you look at Connor.

You felt his gun touch your temple before he reeled it back. "Actually, maybe here, instead," he taunted, pressing the barrel against your shoulder. "Don't want her to die too fast."

"Stop," Connor gritted out loudly. "I'll do it."

"NO!" you screamed, voice cracking. "Connor, don't!"

His lips tightened, but his eyes were soft as he took you in for what could possibly be the last time. With one hand, he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. With his other hand, he took the chip from Reaves' hand.

"Don't do this," you pleaded with him between weak, nasally sobs. "Connor, please don't."

His brown eyes were locked with yours. It was difficult to decipher his expression.

"Don't," you pleaded, "please - CONNOR!"

His name falling from your lips in a pained cry made him flinch; but, he ignored your pleas and pressed the circuit board against his chest. His human skin faded away to expose factory white and interfaced with the chip, a glowing, blue hue where they touched.

The android let out a pained grunt when the code began to flood his systems.

-a factory reset with all the system override codes, a well-constructed brute force with Cyberlife approved mandatory protocols, including their security keys. Behind it was RK800's factory issued operating system. All existing files were to be overwritten three times before the OS would be installed over it.

Installer to begin in 0:00:05 ... and then, executing reboot.

Connor's LED blazed crimson red and he began blinking unnaturally in rapid successions. You stared on, horrified as the android's head twitched and his fingers clenched and unclenched where it held the circuit board.

Eventually, Connor stopped blinking, his LED fluttering off, and he stared ahead, eyes void of emotions. It took a moment before systems went back into place, his LED hummed back to calm blue, and he started blinking again, a program to aid in assimilation with humans, to make him look more natural.

There was a moment where all was still and silent, and Connor maintained a perfectly normal appearance, some softness to his eyes, lips straight but polite. He pulled the circuit board back and offered it to Reaves casually.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Reaves," Connor greeted him kindly, shifting his gaze to his former owner.

"State your unit," Reaves demanded as he took the board back and dropped it into his pocket, his eyes swooping over Connor untrustingly.

"Model RK800," Connor answered in a clear, crisp tone, and robotic, polite voice. "Serial 313-248-317-52."

52 - that was wrong. Connor's model number ended in 51.

Which meant-

"State your purpose," Reaves continued, his lips tight in a frown.

"To aid in investigations regarding, and to detain, deviated androids," Connor answered directly.

Reaves retrieved the gun from his pocket and pointed it at Connor. You screamed when he shot Connor; but, the android didn't flinch, make a sound, or even blink. He had shot him in the shoulder, a perfectly harmless spot that wouldn't cause any concerning damage.

Then, Reaves settled the gun on the android's forehead and stared him down, awaiting a reaction.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Reaves?" Connor asked politely after a few seconds.

The face he was making frightened you. He didn't look the least bit upset or even concerned at the gun pointed at him. One trigger pull would permanently damage a vital processor and potentially harm his memory modules beyond repair.

"What is your mission?" Reaves asked lowly.

"I have not been assigned a mission since my factory reset," Connor answered simply. "I will promptly reach out to Cyberlife for-"

"No. That won't be necessary," Reaves interrupted him sharply.

A sob forced its way through your throat. Everything was gone: his time with Hank, the revolution, his memories with you. Who he was up until this moment was no more. He might as well have been murdered and replaced with someone else wearing his face.

The man behind you let go and you sagged to the floor, cheek touching the carpet where you cried, harsh sobs that shook your whole body. Every tremble made the bullet wound in your side burn; but, the physical pain was more bearable than the pain in your heart.

Your arms looped around and you held yourself, palms gripping at your back, fingers digging in to your flesh, and you let the sorrow wash over you, tears falling in thick, heavy drops.

"-your mission-" you heard Reaves utter. The rest was white noise, until you heard the man behind you shuffle away and saw Connor rise off his knees in the corner of your eye.

"-kill this woman."

All androids came factory issued with a program that made it very clear they were not to harm humans in any way. You knew that Connor was the only exception to that. He could kill humans if they were a threat to his mission, and he would kill humans if he was required to do so. There was no protocol stopping him from that.

You remained where you were, hunched over, unable to stomach the sight of him obeying orders, wiped of the life he had lived up until this point.

You were going to die by the hands of the man you loved.

You tried, you really fucking tried, not to whimper when Connor's hand grabbed the back of your neck and forced your head up. You wanted to spew words: that you forgave him, that you loved him no matter what he did, that you hoped he would forgive himself, if any of him was left in there.

You kept your eyes squeezed shut, lips trembling as sobs threatened to spew out, avoiding looking at him. You expected it to be over any second now, a bullet to free you from this misery. Maybe, Reaves was doing you a favor.

But, the gun nuzzled against your temple didn't go off. Connor held the back of your head tightly, and you felt one of his fingers tracing a circular pattern against the skin at the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you wondered if it was a mistake, a slip of the hand when he grasped you. But, Connor was too meticulous to make mistakes like that. The touch continued with a little more pressure; and, you realized, it wasn't an accident. He was doing it on purpose.

Your eyes opened, wet with tears, and you saw him looking down at you. Even crouched down to reach you, he was still towering above you.

The expression he was making was soft, eyes narrowed weakly and brow lowered, apologetic. You gawked up at him, thinking that maybe you were delusional, maybe you were already dead and living out a fantasy before you succumbed to your injuries.

He gave you a second to look at him properly; then, Connor winked at you.

All the pressure in your chest eased and the touch of his hand suddenly felt familiar and warm. His finger continued to trace a pattern into your skin that you recognized as lovingly. His eyes took you in softly, a familiar, loving look that you had been blessed with many, many times.

He was faking it.

He was fucking faking it.

"Son of a b-" the bulky man hissed behind Connor, realization striking him when the android hesitated just a little too long.

Connor released his hold on you and spun around. You dropped, cheek touching the floor. Two gunshots went off, leaving a loud ringing in your ears, and you flinched at each one, wincing again when a third shot went off. A large body collapsed in a heap on the floor, startling you. Immediately following, Reaves landed on his back with a wail.

"Agh - fuck!" he shouted, gawking up at the android.

Reaves' hands fell down to grip at the spot where Connor had shot him, right into the meat of his thigh. The android could have ended him as easily as he did his accomplice. He wanted to watch the life drain from Reaves' eyes; but, he knew that he needed him alive for now.

Connor tucked the gun into his waistband and approached Reaves hastily. He manhandled him onto his stomach and twisted his arms behind his back. Connor dug his knee into Reaves' spine and reached over to yank some paracord off his partner's corpse.

"How did you-?" he hissed into the carpet.

"You thought you could make better code than an android," Connor answered lowly as he bound Reaves' wrists. "You failed."

"No," Reaves snarled. "It was fucking perfect - it worked on you before."

Before-

-when he was a machine and willingly allowed it to happen.

Now, he had a reason to live.

The android dug through Reaves' pockets until he found the board. He tucked it into his coat pocket for safe keeping, knowing full well this wasn't the end. If Reaves made one, who knew how many more there were. Would other androids be able to resist?

Connor then stood up and rotated onto the body, scanning him for the the device jamming his wireless signal. As expected, it was tucked away in one of the pockets on his vest. Connor dug it out and crushed it in his palm, ignoring the slight shock it sent through his body, and threw it harshly across the room where it shattered further.

You felt his hands touch your shoulders before sliding around your biceps and helping you to your feet. As soon as you were standing, he pulled you into an embrace. Tired and aching, you had no doubt you would have fallen otherwise.

You were too overwhelmed with joy to recall that you had been shot. Hormones swarmed your brain and the pain dulled into silence. All you could feel was Connor's chest pressed against yours, his hands running up and down your back, his lips falling into your hairline.

"I'm so sorry," he panted into your hair. "I'm so - so sorry," he pleaded.

"Connor," you interrupted sharply, pushing back against his chest so he would loosen up just enough for you to look up at his face. His brown eyes were wet with tears, and took you in like nothing else in this world mattered.

As soon as he saw you, Connor ducked down and kissed you, wet and sloppy, apologetic and pleading. You kissed back as best as you could.

Tears mingled where your mouths met. Connor could taste the salt of your tears and you could taste the thirium of his, metallic and sharp. It was awful, really; but, in that moment, you thought you liked that taste.

"Didn't wanna scare you," he uttered, pausing just long enough to get the words out before he was taking your mouth again. "-m sorry," he somehow uttered out between kisses. "-m so-"

"Con-" you whined, pulling back. "You're so smart," you mumbled praise against his mouth, interrupting him, hand lifting up to cup his cheek. Your fingers dug gently into his skin. "You're so fucking amazing. I love you."

"I love you, too," he agreed, exhaust puffing out of his lips, burning hot against your mouth.

You kissed again and again, the fleshy sounds echoing around the room. You could feel his thirium regulator humming against your abdomen. It felt wonderful, whirling with life. The smell of blood was heavy in the room, and the android remembered that you were injured.

"Come on - come on - gotta get you outta here," Connor whispered harshly, ducking down to curl one arm behind your knees and hoist you up into his arms.

He left Reaves on the floor, tied at the wrists with a bullet wound in his thigh, knowing the Detroit Police Department would be descending upon this house in a matter of seconds. Reaves wouldn't get far if he attempted to run, and Connor had the evidence safe with him.

For now, he needed to get you to the hospital.

The rain was coming down gently outside. Detroit's night city lights were shining in the puddles that gathered in the asphalt. You hissed when the cold night air met your skin as Connor carried you to his car.

He ducked down carefully and slid you into the passenger seat, arching over you to pull the buckle securely across your chest and waist.

He didn't bother buckling himself after climbing into the driver's seat. He started the engine hastily and tore his way out of the driveway, speeding into the downpour of the night.

You relaxed in the passenger seat, relief washing over you. Connor was safe. You didn't lose him. Everything was alright.

With those thoughts, you let yourself blissfully slip away, until Connor called out to you.

"Baby-" he called to you softly.

Oh. He had never called you that before.

"-please stay with me."

His desperate voice made you suddenly feel sober, and you realized your head was drooping into the space above the center console.

"Connor, I'm so tired," you replied quietly.

Nothing was hurting in that moment. You felt cold, skin prickly, and exhausted, more so than you had ever felt in your entire life. It was just so easy to close your eyes and let everything slip away.

"You gotta stay awake," the android pleaded. "Talk to me, please."

"What?" you slurred, head drooping again.

"Anything - anything you wanna tell me," he pleaded.

He reached for you with his free hand, the other desperately gripping the wheel, and tried to force your head up. The angle was awkward, but his sudden, rough touch and ice-cold fingers startled you.

"I - uhm-" you sputtered, not bothering to push his hand away, though you doubted you had the strength to do that anyway.

Connor was tearing his way through traffic, passing people in a hurry, nearly running signs and lights. He had to let go of you to change gears and burnt rubber with how fast he accelerated onto the freeway.

"Please, talk to me," he pleaded, volume raising, tone something desperate in a way you had never heard before. He sounded so weak.

"Okay - okay, I..." You trailed off and tried to decide what to tell him.

Your blood had soaked through your clothes and was staining his car seat; but, it didn't hurt anymore. All you could think about was how blinding the lights of passing was and how badly you wanted to go to sleep.

"Tell me why you wanted to be an engineer," Connor pleaded, his free hand reaching over to squeeze your knee. The touch would have normally been ticklish; but, you barely felt it.

"I like androids," you replied simply. Your head drooped against the glass on the passenger window. Connor roughly grabbed your bicep and shook you until you jolted upright again.

"Androids ha - always been nice to me," you continued softly, the words sputtering from your lips in a tone Connor wasn't familiar with.

It scared him.

"They're really cool - yeah. Ah... Thirium is biodegre - uhm - and - they can access the internet in their heads," you babbled on.

You had stopped talking again. When Connor glanced at you sharply, he noticed your eyes were closing again.

"Hey, hey - don't go," he whispered harshly, shaking you again.

Your tired eyes somehow found the strength to open and you peered over at him, barely registering how panicked he looked. You couldn't make out the brown of his eyes or count his freckles.

"I won't," you uttered, so quietly that he likely would not have heard you if he was human. "-haven't wanted to - to live this bad in a lo-ong time..."

He was almost to the hospital, just one more exit to pass. The smell of your blood in the car was heavy and it overwhelmed his scent receptors. When his hand slid down your arm, he realized you were sweating profusely, the slick liquid sticking to his skin. He glanced back at you and saw the droplets gathering at your temple.

"Look at me," he asked again, squeezing your arm. You could barely feel it.

"Look at me - please, please, hold on. We're almost there."

You wanted to listen, to do as he asked; but, you lost the strength and sagged against the chair, head lulling to the side.

He called out your name and you heard it faintly. He continued, calling out your name, getting louder and louder until he was screaming. He was seated right next to you; yet, in your ears, sounded so far away.

Sometime later, you jerked forward when the car came to a halt, felt his arms wrap around you, felt him carry you, felt the burning of overhead lights, heard panicked shouting from every which direction. You were set down on a hard surface and cried when his hands left you.

Eventually, everything went dark.

#connor x reader #deviant connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh fanfic

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

Text

Say You’ll Stay - Chapter 8

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

Guys, I’m so sorry its taken me so long to get this chapter out. My muse abandoned me and my laptop was being weird. But here we are! Let me know what you think!

Tag List: @happyveday @alwaysindecemberfeels @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @saritanotserena

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

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The sunrise lit up the morning sky with an array of beautiful, pastel colors. Anna could only hope it was a good sign for the day. She rubbed a hand over her tired eyes as she carefully walked over the rubble on the city's streets, dodging icy puddles and mud. Gene was going to be quite upset with her later, but she tried not to think about that now.

Quickly, she hurried up the creaky steps of the old two-story home. It looked similar to most of the other buildings but its door was dirty and faded red with a rickety looking porch only half standing. She made a mental note to thank Boyd for his surprisingly clear directions, otherwise she knew she would have been wandering for a while and on these streets, that was far from safe. As quietly as possible, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. She had been invited here, actually forced to come here if Boyd's look yesterday said anything, but she still felt like an invader. The idea of setting foot inside the men's barracks was something her mind fervently refused to acknowledge; it just was not even a possibility in her mind. Though this building was not technically an army barrack in the literal sense, she still felt like an intruder because it was sleeping/housing quarters for the men.

Her grandmother would be furious if she ever found out Anna entered the men's quarters…. especially letting herself in. The thought tampered down Anna's nerves slightly as she thought of the horrified look on the elderly woman's face, if she ever discovered this. It lightened her mood for a brief moment.

In the room to her left, a soldier sprawled on a mangy looking couch with an arm thrown over his eyes. If she had not been able to see his chest rising and falling, she would have gone to check his pulse for how still he was otherwise. In that same room another soldier sat in a high-backed chair with his head tipped back, eyes closed and snoring like a chainsaw. Not recognizing either man, she guessed they were from one of the other tank crews. The sounds of movement and soft talking to her right had her quietly turning in that direction, hoping to allow the soldiers their well-deserved sleep.

She startled when a head popped around the corner, covering her mouth quickly before a scream could escape. The man had a face that reminded her vaguely of a bulldog, thick jaw and deep-set eyes. He scanned her for a moment in a way that felt more like an assessment than any kind of leering.

He grunted then jerked his head back the way he had come. "This way." He muttered only to disappear just as quickly as he appeared.

Through her heart still hammered in her chest from the unexpected startle, she took a deep breath in an attempt to steel her nerves. Sudden, frightened screaming would most likely get her or someone else shot. It was too early to be shot in her opinion. Best she try to suppress any girly screams for now. Or at least until after she got some sleep.

She followed the man around the corner only to encounter what most likely used to be a kitchen but was missing some key utilities. The faded, peeling wallpaper only added to the desolate feel. Just off center and close to a window facing the river was a table with three men sitting around it. Two others leaned against a countertop, mugs in hand. What quiet conversation had been going before her arrival ceased as she came into view.

"Anna?"

"Good morning." She attempted to smile but worried it came out more as a grimace. The need for sleep was beginning to claw at her mind.

"Sit down," Boyd immediately stood up, gesturing to his chair at the table. "You want some coffee? I reckon we got some left."

"That would be lovely, thank you." Knowing she probably would lose the fight, she went ahead and took his seat. Something she had learned about Boyd Swan over the past almost two weeks she had known him, he was a gentleman but beyond that…. he was stubborn.

Don leaned back in the chair next to her, cigarette between his lips. "Morning." He stated in a gravelly voice, lingering traces of sleep apparent in the sound. He must not have been awake long.

"Good morning." She flashed him a quick smile, willing the warmth to dissipate from her cheeks, or at least hoping no one noticed the blush. This schoolgirl crush on him was ridiculous, and she knew it. A peek of those blue eyes and her heart beat a drumroll in her chest that rivaled any band.

Boyd set a tin cup in front of her, steam tantalizingly drifting out of it. "Didn't think you'd be here this early. Why ain't you sleepin'?" Boyd asked.

She took a sip, the warmth delightful even if the taste was less than desirable. "Um, well, I'm supposed to be but I wanted to see y’all before, or you might come busting down the door again." She directed the last part to Boyd with a mock glare. He was lucky none of the medics carried guns with how he burst into the aid station demanding to see her.

He shrugged unapologetically. "Just wanted to make sure you was alright. We didn't know where you disappeared to. I see you got some new clothes."

"Yeah," she glanced down at the ODs she now wore. They were ill-fitting, clearly meant for a man, not a short nurse. She had to roll up the hems of the trousers and the sleeves multiple times and she swore she still looked like a child playing dress-up in their parent's clothes. On the other hand, they were far warmer than her nurse’s torn uniform and right now, that was more important. "Gene let me have one of their spare medic uniforms."

"Mmm… explains the patch here." Don touched the screaming eagle patch over her upper arm.

It was an innocent, teasing gesture but it still shot sparks through her system. Her eyes jumped up to meet his lingering gaze. He gave her a quick wink before leaning his chair back. The warmth of a blush reappeared on her cheeks. Quickly, she took a sip of her watery coffee, well aware of the others sitting or standing around quietly in the room.

"Gene? That medic with the southern accent?" Boyd asked, leaning against the wall nearby. His question was innocent enough but the scrutinizing look on his face said otherwise.

"Boyd…"

"He just seemed real protective of you, that's all."

She groaned, setting her cup down on the table and dropping her face into her hands. A few chuckles drifted from around the room but she ignored them. Actually, now that she was sitting still with her eyes closed, she could feel a wave of sleep threatening to crash over her and pull her under, with or without her consent. The coffee should have been helping to keep her awake but at this point, the warmth in her belly only made her want to curl up like a cat and doze off.

A conversation picked up around her, two of the men in the room speaking in a low drone. She recognized the sound of the man with the bulldog face, he made some kind of remark that had Don chuckle next to her before replying. Her mind refused to process the words though. The conversation became a background noise as she teetered on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. She should get back to the aid station. She needed to get back to the aid station to help Roe. Yet her body refused to comply.

"Anna."

The soft whisper of her name caught her attention from the sleep-induced haze. She turned her head slightly to meet Don's concerned gaze.

"When did you last sleep?"

"Mmm?"

He huffed at her noncommittal answer. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"No…. I stayed up to cover so some of the other medics could sleep. I'm fine. I should probably head back."

"Doll, I just watched you fall asleep sitting right there."

"No… I was just… resting my eyes. I should get back."

"Like hell you are." He raised his gaze to look over her head, his volume rising from the whisper they had been speaking in. "Boyd, take Anna upstairs and let her have one of the cots or bed. We'll take her back once she gets some sleep."

"No, it's fine…." She weakly tried to argue but snapped her mouth shut when he turned his gaze back to her.

"If you don't walk up those stairs right now, I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you up them." Don stated, then took a hit of his cigarette. The statement should have sounded like a joke but with his matter-of-fact tone and the way he watched her, Anna knew he was serious.

"Come on," Boyd put a hand on her shoulder. "We was gonna ask you to check Norman anyway."

That caught her attention. She whipped around to look up at Boyd. "Is he alright? What happened?"

"He's fine. Think he's got a cold.... maybe a fever too."

With that information, she more readily followed the gunner up towards the nearby stairs and up to the second floor. There were four doors in the hallway but he led her to the furthest one on the right. Inside was a bed big enough for two people, a large dresser, nightstand and a short couch off in the corner. What immediately caught her attention though was the figure lying in bed, curled up like a child and coughing with a dry and scratchy sound. Her own exhaustion was forgotten as she darted past Boyd to drop next to the figure under the thick quilt.

"Hey, Norman."

"Anna?" He blearily opened his red-rimmed, glassy eyes. He sniffled, wiping his nose on the edge of his sleeve.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ok…"

"Liar." She teased, running a hand through his hair gently after feeling his forehead. He felt mildly warm but nothing she was too concerned with yet. That cough had her more worried. "What all hurts, Norm?"

"Boyd thinks it's just a cold."

"I know. Running nose, scratchy throat, slight fever… anything else? Headache? Fatigue?"

"Uh huh." He mumbled, eyes closing as he relaxed under her touch, sleep guiding him away from awareness.

He looked so painfully young, lying in the bed. It broke her heart to know this was someone who was forced to kill people on a regular basis. He should be back home and going to school or flirting with his crush or playing baseball with friends. He should not be here. None of them should be here.

Yet here they were.

She looked around her and found his canteen laying just underneath the bed. Picking it up she was pleased it was at least half full.

"Norm, I want you to drink some of this before you fall back asleep. Can you do that for me, please?"

With a painful groan, he shifted enough to drink a couple of mouthfuls of the water before handing it back to her and slinking back down onto the bed. She stood up but was surprised when his hand darted out to grab hers.

"Don't go yet." He said just barely above a whisper. It was the pleading look in his eyes that convinced her.

"Ok, sweetie," she cooed, running her hand over his sweaty forehead again, "I'll stay a little longer."

She looked back over at Boyd, hovering near the door with an expression on his face she could not distinguish.

"Can you fill this back up and get him some of those crackers from your rations?"

Boyd nodded, moving to take the canteen from her hand. "Sure thing. Anythin' else you need?"

"No, I'll stay just for a little bit. Can you come get me in an hour or two? I really need to head back to the aid station."

"You also need to rest. Those bags under your eyes look like permanent bruises now."

"I will." She snapped then immediately felt bad and sighed. "I'm sorry, I will. I promise."

"S'alright. I'll come back in an hour."

"Thank you." She smiled, even if it was only a twitch of her lips. As Boyd walked out, she knelt back down next to the young soldier. His eyes were already closed, breathing slowing as slumber took hold once again. She rested her head on the side of the bed, carding her fingers through his hair. A hacking cough overtook him, startling them both. Once he settled, she continued her ministrations, humming softly. She hoped it was just a cold. That it was nothing more severe.

She made a mental note that when Boyd came her in an hour, she would make sure to ask Gene if anyone had found tea or honey laying around.

*****

Don watched Boyd and Anna go up the stairs. When he turned back, he saw a couple of the men's gaze lingering on the stairs.

"The nurse is off limits." He stated with such finality that had at least one of the men's heads snap towards him. As if his statement sealed an invisible decree, the men in the kitchen turned back to whatever they were doing prior.

Davis looked at him from his spot across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter. "She yours?"

"I thought you don't participate in gossip?"

The other tank commander shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

Don ignored the question, even if he could feel Davis' gaze frequently drifting to him. He focused on the map on the table before him. It was not necessary for him to study it but the action had become a habit of his whenever his crew moved to a new location. Knowing what other towns were nearby, rivers, roads, anything that could be of use later, he tried to memorize it. At this point, he figured by the time the war was over he would have most of Europe and North Africa geography permanently seared into his brain.

A couple minutes later, Boyd came back down and returned to his seat next to Don. He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed deeply. "She's workin' herself too hard. Looks like she ain't slept in a week."

Don kept his thoughts to himself but he was loathed to agree. Exhaustion hung off her like a heavy cape making her feet drag as she walked. Witnessing how easily she fell asleep just sitting at the table did not help her case.

"Told her I'd be back up in an hour to get 'er."

Don raised an eyebrow, looking at his friend. "Are you going to?"

Boyd smirked. "I'll check on her but if she's sleepin', I'm gonna leave her be. Lord knows she needs it." He paused, glancing towards the stairs. "I'd bet my own Bible she's asleep right now."

"Mmm… Norman alright?"

"He's sleepin'. She's takin' care of him."

He was not all surprised. Since they had arrived in Haguenau, Norman's health had plummeted. Don worried for his newest crew member. The poor kid looked miserable and these were certainly less than ideal conditions for someone sick. The kid had a bed and a roof over his bed…. he would pull through. He had too. Don would not even consider the alternative. Especially with Anna now looking after him. The small nurse would mother the hell out of whatever is wrong with the kid. With a smirk at the thought, Don went back to studying the map.

Several hours later, he headed up the stairs to the room he shared with Boyd and Norman.

A runner had come from Captain Winters requesting his presence at noon at HQ. Don agreed, sending the runner back on his way. Boyd met his annoyed gaze and they shared a mutual sigh. So much for them having a reprieve before being sent back out.

Up the stairs he went and down the short hallway. The floorboards creaked under his boots; a sudden memory of his childhood home crossed his mind. Whenever he tried to sneak out of this bedroom as a child, he never could get far because of the damn loud floorboards.

He opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle the room's occupants. As he registered what he saw, it brought a small smile to his lips and he paused at the sight. Norman was still curled up asleep on the bed, mouth open and breathing loud. On the other side of the bed, Anna lay on her side, hands tucked under her face, hair a wild mess around her. Boyd had mentioned when he came up to check on them, he had helped move Anna to the bed with her barely rousing. Clearly more tired than any of them assumed.

Instead of waking her up like he intended to, he found himself closing the door quietly and just watching the two sleep. Yes, he knew it was creepy and if Boyd knew, the gunner would rightly smack him in the back of the head. Would not be the first time after Don did something stupid.

War brings people together in the strangest of way. After the…. accident...he thought he would never have family again. That because of his stupid mistakes, he was destined to be alone forever. Which he rightly deserved. But then he went to war. He was thrown into a tank with four other men who quickly became brothers.

If he needed to be distracted from commands and his own inner demons, he knew sitting down with Gordo would distract him for a while with his crazy stories of home and the shenanigans he did as a teenager. Gordo always had a joke or story to share to lighten the mood.

Grady respected Don as a leader but never let him run him over; he could just as easily return Don's anger-fueled fire as follow his commands. It had taken some time for them to trust and respect one another, their tempers too similar. Now there was an underlying understanding between the two of them, that they took the worst of the jobs, that they would carry the most blood on their hands to spare the others. If Don had to get into a fist fight, there was no one else he would want more by his side.

Then there was the man who had become more than a blood brother, a confidante, a best friend, a moral compass. Even in the first week of tank school, Boyd had looked over at Don one day, said he was proud to be by his side and thought Don was a good man. Don had laughed in Boyd's face but somehow it sealed a pact between them. Boyd's calm demeanor helped keep Don's temper down and even when it did flare up like a roman candle firework, Boyd was always there to rein it in. Neither of them drank so while the others went off to drink away the night, Don and Boyd found themselves sitting together silently and both were more than alright with that.

Norman reminded Don of his little brother so much it physically hurt sometimes. He despised himself that it was HIS fault the boy was forced to lose that innocence he carried. It was HIM that made Norman kill. But this was war, and if they wanted to survive, they needed to be merciless. Don knew he overcompensated by making sure Norman ate and rested when they could. He showed the young soldier how to disassemble and reassemble his rifle, how to stab and slash, how to survive. He refused to let the boy die even through his own stupid mistakes. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the idea had been planted that making sure Norman survived this goddamn war would be his penance for his own failures.

Before two weeks ago, these were the four people that mattered most to him. Even more than what was left of his blood relations. Losing Red, Norman's predecessor, had felt like a knife to the heart, even if he masked it for all to see. He refused to let the others see him grieve, he had to be strong for them.

Now though, Anna had slipped past his heart's barriers and settled there in a place that he had not realized was empty until her presence filled the prior void spot. She remained in his thoughts more than he cared to admit. Her soft touch, her gentle spirit, those gemstone eyes, that faint scent… it all lingered with him like a summer's heat that no matter what you tried to do, day or night, you could not escape. He swore she was a siren, come to torment him. His life was proof enough he did not deserve someone like her, he never would deserve someone like her. She was gentleness and kindness wrapped up in a person. He was wrath and mistakes that cost people their lives.

Yet still her presence persisted.

Shaking his head, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and moved to her side. He hated to wake her. She looked so peaceful.

"Anna." He whispered. "Anna, wake up."

Overly aware of his actions, he squatted down to be eye level with her. He reached a hand over and brushed some loose strands of hair off her cheek. The sunlight coming through the dirty window made her red hair shine. "Come on, darling. Time to wake up."

He was unsure where the pet name came from but once it left his lips, it felt right. Before he could think too long about it, she began to stir.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyelids fluttered open but once the sunlight hit, they slammed closed once again. "No…" she whimpered, scrunching her nose up in dislike of either the sun or waking up. Either way, he was positive he had never seen anything as adorable before… and he never used the word adorable.

Oh, he was so fucked now.

He chuckled. "Come on, Anna."

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

She peeked an eye open at him. "I told Boyd to wake me in an hour."

"Yeah, well we thought you needed some sleep."

Grumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "overprotective mother hen", she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up.

Movement drew Don's gaze over to Norman who was shifting around. His eyes blearily opened; it took a few seconds to come out of sleep. Once his mind seemed to realize Anna was still half laying in the bed less than a foot away from him, he sat up like he had been shocked with electricity.

"Don, I swear nothing happened. We just sleeping, I mean… I don't think…" a bout of coughing interrupted his frantic and hasty explanation.

At that, the tank commander laughed loudly. "I know, Norman." He shifted back towards the door, watching the two amused. Anna's cheeks were pink now but she gave no other indication of hearing Norman's sleepy mumbling.

"How are you feeling, Norm?" She asked, placing the back of her hand on his forehead.

"Alright, I guess."

"Think you can come down and eat?"

He nodded sluggishly. They both rolled out the bed, him moving a bit slower. The whole way out of the door and down the stairs, Anna walked next to him, occasionally putting a hand on his shoulder or giving a word of encouragement.

Don led the way back down, still smirking about Norman's hasty and confused comment. He would have to remember it to rib the kid later on when he was feeling better. Finally making it to the kitchen area, they deposited Norman at the table next to Gordo, who was nursing a cup of coffee. Boyd meandered over from reading on one of the couches in the common room, glasses still perched on his nose.

As soon as Anna saw him, she stomped over and punched him in the arm. "You were supposed to wake me up in an hour."

Boyd winced and tried to shuffle out of range of another strike. "Well, you looked tired."

"What every girl wants to hear, Boyd, thank you."

Don was not the only one laughing at the interaction.

Anna blushed as she seemed to notice the others about the area but ignored them, walking back over to Norman. "You just rest. I'll come back and check on you tonight. I'll see if they have anything to help at the aid station."

The kid nodded then started coughing again.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of him." Gordo said, wrapping an arm around him and giving her a quick wink.

She smiled back, cheeks still pink from her prior blush. "Thanks, Gordo."

Don figured it was time to speak up now. "Let's go, Anna. I'll walk you back." He was surprised when she followed him without hesitation after a quick goodbye to those from his crew.

Don and Davis were lucky to have found an unoccupied house on the western side of Haguenau for their crews, further away from the river and the Germans across it. Binkowski and Peterson and their crews occupied the building just behind them. Here they did not have to worry so much about the frequent mortars and snipers. Though some of the holes in the floorboards were concerning, but it was a roof over their heads.

The tank commander and nurse walked in silence past the other houses and buildings towards the aid station. The frost, hidden in the shadows, crunched under their boots. An unusual silence permeated the air, no shouting or sound of gunfire coming from the river. It made Don wary and he slowed down his typical purposeful stride to match hers, making sure to keep his body between hers and the direction of the river. He knew the action would be useless against a mortar but it helped alleviate some of his worry.

They stopped at the back door to the aid station, the couple brick steps still intact, leading up to a small stoop and the back, wooden door. Don remained on the muddy ground while Anna stepped up onto the first step then turned around to face him.

"Thank you for walking me back."

He hummed, glancing further down the road. "You make sure to eat something now. Can't have you wasting away."

"Isn't that my job to take care of others?" She said cheekily.

"Yeah, doesn't hurt to have someone looking out for you too."

It was a simple, truthful statement. If war taught anything, it was the need for others to watch your back both in dodging bullets and to share meals. War and death were malicious bastards, dragging down anyone into a black hole of melancholy before they could even realize they slipped in the first place. Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, the weight of them hit him firmly in the chest. Instead of meaning it as a comrade or friend, he realized he meant something more. Someone to look out for her in more than just the little things, but in everything. Shit.

Her head snapped up, her gaze meeting his in a way that sent a tingle down his spine. Neither one moved as they stared at one another. The world threatened to fade away around them. She was beautiful, it was a fact. Even in ODs that threatened to swallow her, she still managed to radiate warmth and kindness. He had caught more than one soldier eyeing her up. It burned him up on the inside but he had no right to fight them over their actions. She was not his…. even if he was beginning to wish she was. She was too good for him. Too pure. Too beautiful. His presence would only taint her.

He needed a distraction, something to break the hold they both seemed stuck in. He blurted the first thing that came to mind. "You still have the knife on you?"

She blinked rapidly as if awakening from a dream. "Yes." She stuttered then leaned over slightly to lift her right pants leg up.

He looked down and noticed it strapped to her lower leg, just above her boot. "Good."

Even though the conversation halted, it seemed neither one wanted to move away. Her eyes held his once again as if waiting for something. A sign? A word? A fucking billboard with neon lights? Hell if he knew. The problem was, he could feel it too. There was something shifting between them and it both terrified and elated him.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and slipped an erratic strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb trailing down her jawline after, her soft skin like velvet against his own roughness. Fuck he had been dying to touch her again. Instead of alleviating the need, now it seemed to burn stronger in him.

"Don…" she whispered as his thumb hinted at touching her lower lip.

The way she said it in that breathy tone, the light in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks, all of it combined sent a bolt of lightning through him that threatened any self-control he had. He wanted to pull her small frame against him, to taste her and see if her lips were as soft as they looked, if that heavenly scent that surrounded her came from her skin or hair. He wanted her. Fucking hell, he wanted her. And if the way her eyes were dilated and her breathing uneven, perhaps she wanted him too.

The door beside them suddenly opened, jolting them both back to reality. Whatever moment they had, dashed away as a paratrooper glared at them then pushed past them.

"I should…."

"Yeah," he said, pulling out a cigarette. He needed to keep his hands busy otherwise he would be tempted to pull her against him. "I'll send someone to come get you later."

"That's not necessary."

"Maybe, but I sure as hell don't like you walking around by yourself."

"Fine." She stood up on her toes and brushed a quick kiss to his jawline, an innocent ode to the last time she kissed him. "Be safe, Sergeant." She whispered against his skin then quickly turned and ducked inside the aid station.

"Damn it." He muttered after his brain finally decided to restart. Such a simple touch should not make him lose all sense. He kicked a loose rock, sticking the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. The smoke curled in his lungs, helping solidify him into reality. He glanced back at the door, briefly wondering what it would be like to storm into the building and kiss her like he wanted too. But before he could do something stupid, he headed towards the regiment HQ, the lingering hint of lilacs danced in the corners of his mind.

#Fury movie #fury fanfic #fury 2014 #band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #Don Wardaddy Collier #Don Collier #Don Wardaddy collier x OFC #don collier x OFC #boyd bible swan #boyd swan #norman machine ellison #Trini Gordo Garcia #grady coon-ass travis #mzwrites

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eirianerisdar · 3 years

Note

Could we get Director's commentary on Sweet Dreams Form a Shade?

Oooh yasss

For other readers, this is from chapter 1 of Sweet Dreams Form a Shade, When Nero and Vergil are seventy-two hours into a four day odyssey of blood, trapped in a dome without the Yamato and endless waves of demons emerging from a portal to hell. This scene takes place immediately after Vergil takes an injury for his son when they both have reduced healing.

Vergil tears his arm out of the Fury’s slackening jaws with an agonised shout that melds with the Fury’s roar – so loud and so not Vergil that Nero almost freezes there and then – drops the Yamato’s sheath, reaches up with his ruined arm, wraps his bloodied fingers around Nero’s on Red Queen’s hilt, and revs Red Queen once.

The Fury’s head explodes.

Red Queen plunges into the ground, both Nero and Vergil’s hands still wrapped around the hilt, blood-slick fingers intertwined.

Nero finds himself kneeling with his brain-spattered face no more than a handspan from Vergil’s ruined arm, with a jagged end of a white bone poking up through Vergil’s tattered sleeve, blood cascading down to the ground below.

“Shit,” he whispers, as his empty stomach clenches.

The next wave of demons begins to scuttle out of the portal ahead.

“Nero.”

The word is the merest susurration of air.

Nero turns to his father, whose hand is trembling where it wraps around Nero’s on Red Queen’s hilt.

“You need to…you need to set the bones, or my arm will not heal correctly,” Vergil whispers, lips white, pale eyes somehow bleached further of colour. “I cannot do it myself.”

“What do I...” Nero says swallowing against his dry throat.

“Pull…my wrist...one way, and my elbow another,” Vergil says. “It does not matter if it is not exact. I will heal. Quickly. We have no time.”

Nero pauses, watching the moonlight glisten off the sickly white of bone.

Nero’s arm had looked much the same, the raw, torn ends of bone stark white against the fountain of blood gushing onto his garage floor, when Vergil had taken his Devil Bringer from him.

“Nero. Now.”

Nero fixes one trembling hand around his father’s wrist, the other around the elbow, and pulls.

Vergil howls into Nero’s shoulder, one awful, long-drawn scream, breath hot against Nero’s neck, then the Lusachia are upon them and Vergil has heaved Nero to his feet with his good hand, Mirage Edge flickering to life in his palm the moment it leaves Nero’s arm.

Nero does not know if he glimpses or imagines Dante’s curled form against the barrier a little ways off, head in his hands, silhouetted by dozens of camera flashes behind him.

Then his father is at his back, and Red Queen is in his hand, and he survives.

Director’s Commentary:

This was my absolute favourite scene to write in chapter 1. I always frame each scene and chapter around character progression; how each of the characters progress in their personal narrative or grow in regards to their relationships in each scene. The point of putting Vergil and Nero into an enclosed space with constant danger on all sides was for the angst, yes - but also to allow both characters to see a side of each other they hadn’t before as estranged father and son.

Vergil’s primary perception of Nero early in this fic is that Nero does not care for him due to their estrangement, and that Vergil himself can do nothing except hurt those he loves. All tied to his childhood trauma, etc.

Nero, on the other hand, believes his father is still on that same power schtick he had in the events of DM5, and does not know enough about Vergil’s history to understand what caused Vergil to become what he is now. He believes his father thinks him weak and unworthy, and thinks his father untouchable emotionally or physically.

And over it all we still have the issue with Vergil having ripped Nero’s arm off mere months before this scene, a problem that was never fully resolved in DMC5.

So here we have Vergil taking a demon attack for his son, and Nero having to set the bones in an eerie imitation of Vergil previously ripping off Nero’s arm.

There are several things this scene does for Nero:

1. Nero sees his father’s vast wealth of experience for what it is - something worth his respect.

Vergil has experience surviving endless hordes of demons when he was hunted by Mundus, and is very much the more experienced one in terms of drawn-out battles. He is far better equipped to survive this four-day ordeal than Nero is, and although Nero has difficulties accepting Vergil’s advice initially, this is a turning point for both of them.

2. Nero sees his father’s vulnerability for the first time.

Despite beating his father in their duel upon the Qliphoth, Nero never sees Vergil truly vulnerable until now. This is Vergil at the weakest Nero has ever seen him - and he has just taken an injury for Nero. The scream and the setting of Vergil’s arm adds to that. The terribly human scream and pain-filled, hot breath against Nero’s neck. This is his father’s little-shown humanity coming to the fore for the first time since V - protectiveness, pain, stubborn, human determination much like Nero’s own.

3. Nero realises how much his father trusts him.

The fact Vergil trusts Nero to set his arm is something Nero never expected. It forces him to realise that he can trust Vergil in return - to protect him as a father should, and to take control of the situation with utter focus despite the horrifying injuries Vergil has sustained. It is the first step that eventually leads to Nero understanding that Vergil loves him as a father does, despite their horrible history.

On the flip side, there are several things this scene does for Vergil:

1. It forces him to face how much he cares for his son.

Vergil is just about the most emotionally constipated man in DMC (to be fair all the Sparda men are, but Vergil takes the cake). He would be the last person to admit the four-letter-word beginning with L in regards to Nero, but here he instinctively puts himself in harm’s way to protect his son, and deals with the consequences.

2. It allows Vergil to feel something like the pain Nero did when Vergil took his son’s arm from him.

Vergil orders Nero to set the bones because it is not something he can do on his own. The hand placement and the pain that follows is almost an exact mirror of Nero’s when Vergil took his arm - only that this time it is to heal, and not to harm. Guilt is something Vergil deals with here and also in It Is Eternal Winter There, and this moment has much to do with it.

3. With this scene, Vergil is well on the way to deciding to be a father proper.

This entire ordeal is Vergil putting Nero first. Realising what it means to have someone under his care. Having to take the lead and continue enduring for another person. This is love, of course, but Vergil being Vergil, he takes a good long while to realise it. It’s why he takes the Fury’s attack for Nero. Why he rips his arm out of those jaws to kill it despite the continued pain. Why he heaves Nero to his feet and buttresses him from behind, protecting Nero’s back.

Because Vergil loves his son already, without even fully realising he does.

So at the end of this scene we have Nero understanding his father might be capable of love after all, and Vergil already willing to give up his life for his son without realising that he is already acting as a father would by doing so.

Thanks for the ask!

Send me an ask for a director’s commentary on any of my fics! Specific scenes welcome.

#dadgil #devil may cry #vergil #nero #dmc fanfic #my post #writing #fanfic #replies

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pinkykitten · 4 years

Text

everything stays

chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ]

note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!

Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time.

The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath.

But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost.

This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.

The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan.

She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up.

As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do.

Kill.

A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake.

Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall.

Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done.

The titans were called.

Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”

Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees.

Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before.

She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves.

She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall.

“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud.

“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke.

Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches.

In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?

They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up.

“Don’t.”

Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”

Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes.

“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”

He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”

They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers.

Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”

“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie.

Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”

“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life.

“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”

Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”

After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom.

She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer.

With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain.

Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen.

It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps.

“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls.

“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do.

All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training.

note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️

Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag

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jarienn972 · 4 years

Text

La Sirena - Chapter Ten (Epilogue)

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

(that’s finally being completed in winter)

We have reached the finale of this @cssns tale at last. This has been such a fun and challenging experience trying to build this universe, and I hope that readers have found it enjoyable as well. Thanks for all of your lovely words and feedback along the way!

I thank you, @kmomof4, for all of your assistance and input. You rock as a beta! And @courtorderedcake, thank you once again for the beautiful artwork that really brought to life the imagery of the opening chapter!

And now, back to the story... Here, we pick up moments after a stubborn and confused Killian pretended to be asleep to avoid his brother. He’s about to get a wonderful surprise...

Catch up from the beginning here on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Or read in full on AO3 or FF.net

The instant that Killian was certain that Liam was out of earshot and wouldn't be present to scold him for faking sleep, his eyelids sprang open wide to behold the most wondrous sight. Perched in the chair just to his left was the very same angelic vision he'd first laid eyes on back on that deserted beach days ago. She looked different with her long, gilded tresses pulled back by a ribbon and seemed a bit more diminutive while wearing a vastly oversized sailor's white uniform tunic and navy woolen trousers but he knew for certain it was her.

But how? How was he gazing upon a beautiful siren here in his own quarters? How could she be here and still be real?

"Emma? It's you!" he exclaimed, trying to sit upright to greet her properly despite the pain. "What are you doing here? How are you even here, Love?

"One question at a time," she chuckled as she reached over and placed her hand atop his forearm to urge him not to move. The moment her fingers brushed his skin, he felt a tingle pass through his entire body - one that was warm and tender. His heart was suddenly racing, but it was no longer driven by fear or anxiety. He welcomed her touch, her presence. "I'm here because this is where I belong and it would seem that even the gods agree."

"But you're a siren. I thought your home was those isles and the surrounding seas? I thought you couldn't leave without…" His voice trailed off before he could say sacrificing your powers.

Her demeanor rapidly switched from jovial to serious at Killian's off-handed, yet important questions. Her eyes avoided his for a moment, then recaptured his gaze with an intensity he'd not seen from her before. There was a new melancholy about her as she took in a deep, reflective breath before responding.

"That cove was no longer my home. In truth, it was far more of a prison for longer than I care to remember. I thought I was happy alone when I left the ranks of the siren council, but I had no idea how wrong I was - until you floated into my bay." Killian's jaw gaped in stunned silence as he watched the tears begin to well in her eyes, but she shushed him when he tried to reply. There was more to her confession that she needed him to hear before he could respond properly. "I may have rescued you from drowning that fateful day, but it was you who rescued me from an eternity of loneliness. And then watching my sister attempting to harm you only strengthened my resolve…" She paused to take a breath, unsure how he was going to react to her next words. "I guess what I am trying to say is that I am here right now on this ship, wearing these ridiculous garments because I knew I couldn't let you go. I risk sounding like a fool right now, but there is something I must confess. I love you, Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones of His Majesty's Royal Navy. Nothing in my entire lifetime has felt as right as the days I spent with you, and because of that, I asked the mighty Poseidon to make me human so that I could accompany you."

"Emma… I…," he stammered, his thoughts an incoherent jumble.

Her jaw wavered as she dipped her head, almost ashamed of her utterance. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, but after all we've been through these past days, I believed you should know the truth. I do understand if you do not feel the same as I do."

Ignoring his body's cries of pain, Killian threw off the blanket and forced his protesting limbs to sit upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk so he could position himself close enough to her that he could cup her cheek in his palm and brush away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

"Emma, there is no need for tears," he assured her. "While I will admit that your revelation to be a siren - and all of the events that followed - were a tad horrifying, I still knew I would gladly spend the remainder of my years stranded in that cove with you. But you, you gave up being a siren - being immortal - for me?"

"What good was being immortal if it meant losing you?" she said with a sniffle just as Killian leaned forward to capture her lips with his, neither of them even caring if Liam were to reenter Killian's quarters right then and there. For a brief moment, the universe was theirs alone until Killian's protesting rib cage caused him to reluctantly pull away, but not without more questions.

"But my brother and the crew, they didn't suspect you to be any less than human? Liam, he addressed you as Miss Swan? Since I don't believe that sirens have family names, wherever did that come from? Whatever did you tell them whilst I was incapacitated?"

"No one suspects me to be a siren, if that is your worry. Once your fellow crew members reached the cove to rescue you, I had to tell them something, so I led them to believe that I was a fellow prisoner from the sunken pirate ship. They believe that the pirates attacked my family's vessel prior to abducting you on that isle of Neverland you spoke of. It isn't as though any of them could corroborate my story with your captors. The crew also collected several damaged trunks and weathered chests that had washed up on the shore, believing them to be part of the stolen loot from the sunken ship. I happened to notice that there was a swan's head carved into one of the wooden trunks so as I boarded this vessel, I introduced myself to your captain as Emma Swan. Do you believe I should have chosen something else?"

Killian chuckled at the thought of her thinking up a surname on the spot. "I don't think anyone will make the connection. I kind of like it. You're beautiful and graceful like a swan. It suits you."

"Thank you," she blushed. "I hardly feel beautiful in these borrowed clothes. This fabric, it is rather unpleasant."

"I'm sure we can find you some attire more suitable for a lady when we next make port. Women aren't common on the high seas. There's an old legend that they're unlucky."

"What nonsense," she muttered with a frown. "But no matter. I have it on good authority that no harm will come to this ship. No creature of the seas would dare challenge Poseidon's edict."

"I still don't understand how this is possible. How does my brother not know that the expedition to the uncharted island went horribly wrong? He wants to award me a bloody commendation that I don't deserve. They think I've lost my mind."

"This will need to be our secret, but the events as you remember them never actually transpired," she stated, which of course left Killian befuddled. He opened his mouth, prepared with a barrage of questions, but she raised a hand to shush him, wanting to explain what she meant before letting him speak. "I know you will have many questions, some of which I will never be able to answer, but in simple terms, Poseidon modified all of the events that led up to your brother's ship arriving to rescue us from the cove. Everything that transpired remained in the same order, but not in the same manner. You still encountered the pirates on that island, they still took you prisoner, and the sirens still laid siege to the ship before it ran aground and sank, but Poseidon changed the scope of each event and allowed your brother's ship to pursue the pirate vessel to locate you. Your injuries were all believed to have come at the hands of your pirate captors and during the escape from the sinking vessel. They have no reason to suspect otherwise."

"But what about my crew? Does no one remember their sacrifices?" he queried anxiously, afraid that those men's lives had been lost in vain.

"Some of them were never there, never set foot on the island. Others were there but their fates were changed by the modified events," she explained, although her words did little to alleviate his confusion. "In this revised timeline, there was no actual battle with those scoundrels. You alone were captured by the pirates. I have no way else to explain, but essentially, Poseidon changed how your history played out. No one beyond our realm will ever know of the version you lived through."

His jaw remained slack as he shook his head and tried to come to terms with a turn of events that was nothing short of miraculous. "But how? Why?" he stammered. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"He said I reminded him of his daughter, Ursula, and he recognized your good heart - much like the man Ursula fell in love with so long ago. He knew you'd been wronged, as had I, and he wanted to put things right. He granted my wish to become human and accompany you, and brought your brother's ship into the bay so you could be saved by your kind."

"Do you know what became of your sister?"

"Not all. I do know that she had her powers revoked for abusing them and that she was made mortal, although not by choice in her case. I don't know if Poseidon turned her human or made her a permanent creature of the sea, and in truth, I don't care. I've made my peace with it. Now, all I wish is to be with you, if you'll have me."

"I wish for nothing else," he replied with a beaming smile. "I just don't know what sort of life I can provide for a former siren… There's so much out there…"

"And I want to experience it all!" she exclaimed giddily as she gestured towards the faded map of Britannia that Killian had pinned to one of the beams lining the walls of his cabin. "I know little of the world beyond our isles. If my time is now finite, I want to see and experience as much as possible! I want to visit these other lands and sail the other seas…"

Killian chuckled at her enthusiasm, not really sure what would be physically possible, but hey - after surviving several harrowing encounters with mythical beings and living to tell the fantastical tales, he was open to adventure.

"Whatever your heart desires, Emma. Whatever your heart desires is what I want for you," he repeated as he pulled his siren - his beautiful angel - in for another heartfelt, lengthy kiss, almost certain that he felt a surge of energy embrace them both.

A few years later…

It was a perfect morning. Only a few wispy clouds broke up the brilliant blue skies as gentle ripples made their way across the serene harbor. Crew lowered and secured the huge canvas sails of the Jewel of the Realm as Liam oversaw their arrival at the dock. His sailors worked like a well-oiled machine performing their tasks, which was a good thing since their Captain might have been a tad distracted.

Instead of supervising lines being tied off, Liam was scanning the shoreline in search of something - or rather, someone. He'd made sure to send out correspondence through courier when they last made port making sure that Killian was aware the Jewel was on its way to the port of Misthaven where they'd agreed to rendezvous.

He hadn't been particularly overjoyed when Killian had decided to resign his commission upon return to Britannia, but if he was honest, the decision hadn't come as much of a surprise. His little brother had endured a harrowing experience, one that Liam knew he could never fully understand. In the process, he'd formed a bond with the lovely Swan woman and Liam had seen all the signs that Killian had fallen head over heels in love and feared lengthy deployments at sea that would keep him apart from his love.

Liam also had to admit that he was a little envious of his brother, but it was clear that while Killian loved the sea, his calling wasn't a career in His Majesty's Royal Navy. He knew that his sibling had taken up as captain of a merchant ship, but since it had been nearly a year and a half since he had last seen Killian, he was curious to see how his brother was faring in his new pursuits.

"Ahoy, brother!" he heard a shout from the pier and off in the distance, he spotted his sibling waving like a fool. And was he wearing black leather?

Once the Jewel was safely moored, Liam gave out his instructions for crew liberty and then made his way down the gangplank with dozens of rambunctious sailors at his heels. He chuckled as they darted past him, scurrying along the pier on their way to one of the local taverns. At least one of them would likely end up spending a night in the brig for overindulgence, but Liam couldn't be bothered with that right now.

His brother awaited him at the far end of the pier, casually leaning against a stone pillar with his foot propped up on an overturned barrel. It was a far more confident stance than Liam recalled when they'd last seen each other, but it was Killian's attire that spoke volumes about his newfound fortitude. He'd not expected to find Killian sporting an ebony leather duster that hung to his knees atop of a bold crimson waistcoat and black woolen trousers that, even from a distance, appeared to be far softer than Liam's own scratchy uniform. Killian clearly seemed to be happy and must have been doing well for himself to afford such luxuries.

"You look well, brother," Killian greeted him.

"As do you," Liam replied, pulling his younger sibling into an embrace and patting him heartily on the back. "Whatever are you wearing?"

"Ah, this…," Killian smiled as he took a step back so Liam could take in all of the elaborate detail on the coat which included embroidered cuffs and lapels along with silver clasps and carved bone buttons. "This was a gift from Queen Ava. The circumstances behind how it came to be is a rather long tale that I'll not bore you with since we've little time to catch up."

"Of course…," Liam responded, raising his eyes skyward with a shake of his head. Killian always seemed to have a new, unbelievable tale these days. "Where ever is that lovely wife of yours? I expected she would be here with you."

"She's waiting for us back on our ship. It's getting a tad more difficult for her to get around these days."

"So then, my new niece or nephew will be arriving soon?"

"Soon enough. Likely before the next full moon. It is why we'll be sailing back to the port of Arendelle, leaving the day after tomorrow," an excited Killian announced.

"Arendelle?" Liam questioned. "Why are you heading there?"

"We were invited by the Queen, and one simply does not turn down the invitation of royalty."

"You were invited by Queen Elsa?" Liam asked incredulously as they ambled along the cobblestone street towards another section of Misthaven's bustling harbor that was filled with smaller fishing boats and merchant ships. He tried to figure out which of the vessels was the one Killian now owned but he couldn't be certain.

"Queen Anna, actually," Killian corrected him. "Queen Elsa stepped down from the throne last year as she believed her more vivacious sister was better suited to handle the duties of the royal court."

"Alright, but that still doesn't explain how you secured a royal invitation."

"While sailing the Northern Isles last summer, we stumbled upon the wreckage of a galleon that had partially sunk in a narrow, rocky fjord. We explored it to see if there was anything worthy of salvage and located a chest containing a crown and other treasures that had been stolen from the Kingdom of Arendelle. We returned the riches to the castle and received a hefty finders fee for our efforts and Emma made fast friends with the Queen. We've made several visits back to Arendelle and have kept in correspondence with the royal family. As soon as Queen Anna learned that Emma was with child, she extended the royal invitation to come join them in the castle. She's already arranged a midwife for Emma, and has said we're welcome to stay as long as we wish. Can you imagine - living in a castle? I would never have thought it possible…"

"I'm very happy for you, Killian, and very proud of you as well. For someone who believed himself a failure not so long ago, you seem to have fortune smiling upon you."

"It hardly seems possible, brother. I feel like the luckiest bloke in all the world," Killian gushed, stopping at the bottom of the gangplank of a decent sized ship with a single towering mast. It was far more compact than the Jewel, but still large enough to carry crew and cargo comfortably. "Here we are. This is our lovely lady, La Sirena."

"Beautiful vessel. Interesting choice of name though. What led you to christen her after such a creature?"

"Oh, I have my reasons," Killian smirked. "But anyway, here's Emma now." A broad smile lit up Killian's visage as he stared up at his wife who was leaning over the railing on the deck above them. "It's almost unfathomable how I ever got so lucky that the gods would send such an angel to watch over me." Emma didn't say a word herself but the smile that stretched from ear to ear across her own face seemed to echo his sentiment.

But then maybe she suspected that the love that blossomed from a heart that was true and good was worth far more than a little bit of luck.

#cssns #cssns 2020 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #siren emma #la sirena

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bigkyloenergy · 4 years

Text

𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔𝙀𝘿 𝙑𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙈

CHAPTER III: A HARD RIDE.

a witcher!kylo x reader fic. dark themes, smut ahead. 18+.

summary: you are a barmaid / stablewoman at an inn in toussaint, kylo ren, one of the last of the witchers from the school of the viper regularly stays at the establishment. you wonder what keeps him coming back.

read on ao3.

“Ten barrels then?”

Nodding, you wrote off your name on the order sheet. “Like always, Betty wants to make sure they’re pre-bought before the new fisherman's haul arrives this weekend.”

“Expecting a crowd? I heard about a bard that everyone seems to be itchin’ to see.”

You wouldn’t normally make small talk with the brewer--he wasn’t a very bright or entertaining man--just like how you didn’t normally go for the orders, only if Betty was extra busy. But you needed to occupy your time as much as you could. Ever since the alley you couldn’t even look at the coral buildings of Toussaint without remembering how the Viper’s tongue felt even better than his fingers. At least it kept true to his title.

“Hopefully.” You gave him a tight smile before you turned to finish the rest of the small errands that the innkeep had given you to get off of her back, having cleaned every crevice of the Pheasantry before it had even opened.

You’d eavesdropped on other conversations every time you heard the word Witcher , but most of the time they weren’t talking about the Viper. You’d only caught a few, which seemed to come and go just like the boats--but they were hesitant, tip toeing around their words as if he would interrupt.

And most days, you wished he would.

Sighing, you gazed over to the river, the breeze greeting you as you tried to lose your train of thought, let your muscle memory walk you through the sunny city. You knew it well enough now. It never really rained, so you weren’t worried about the extra time you took avoiding those alleys.

Too often you would find yourself frustrated, wondering if he’d ever come back, promising yourself that he would get a mouthful from you if he ever did. If he never came back to the inn, oh well. Couldn’t be any worse than pining after a ghost--or, that was what your mind was determined to play on a loop.

Until the sight of his dark cloaks broke that.

Your chest filled, nearly dropping the list you had clutched between your fingers. He was making his way over the bridge, high upon his stygian steed. A perfect picture of death.

And your first instinct was to follow him. Your boots clicked against the ground as if someone had shot a gun to urge you forward. He was over the bridge by the time you even got close to it, slicing through the crowd like butter. Meanwhile, you nearly had to shove men to get past them. Bravery was one of your downfalls, and you only confirmed this as you waded to the edge of the forest Kylo had disappeared into.

The sun still hung high, the trees hosting a darkness that it wouldn't touch. Your feet crunched a branch, and you used a thick trunk for assistance. As your eyes adjusted, an eerie the only thing you could identify.

There was a trail--that much you could tell, but no one in sight. If you listened close enough, you could still hear the river running through Toussaint and that comforted you enough to move on. As you kept on the path, you saw a broken wagon tossed aside, obviously stripped by bandits— you wouldn’t stay long enough to find where the owner was.

Your hair fell around your face as you tried to keep focus on your footing while still being aware of your surroundings, knowing that this was a bad idea. Yet the thought of finding the Viper in action beckoned to you like a siren call. You’d been away from the inn a few hours, so you couldn’t know if he had already checked in. Maybe he’d even looked for you.

A sickening shriek whipped your head so fast you almost kinked your neck to peek around one of the evergreens. There you found a dead knight-- that wasn’t what horrified you.

There were creatures around it, tall as any human, their flesh was rotted, holes on their body exposing the decimated tissue. They craned over the corpse, feasting on the carcass, the noise shuddering your bones.

Stumbling slightly, you were unable to take your eyes off of them, too afraid if you did, they’d notice you. You wouldn’t even have a running chance.

Then your heel caught, not having time to look back, sending you tumbling into the grass.

Something seized your wrist, jerking you back to meet the Viper’s angry, yellow eyes. He tilted his head slightly, aiming his ear toward the monsters as he lowered you to the ground with a gentle thud. You squirmed, leaves crunching underneath you--Kylo didn’t hesitate, following you to the forest floor, serving as a personal shield. Your throat thickened. He was so close that he invaded every one of your senses. His body was achingly heavy, even while he used his elbows as a kickstand to not crush you under his weight.

Nose filled with his scent, forest — fresh cut pine and mint, so strong that dizzied you. You didn’t notice how hard your breathing was until your chest touched his.

“What are those?” you asked in a panicked whisper, nodding toward the beasts. “And why… is this necessary?”

He pulled his chin down to his chest, looking between your bodies before his gaze bore through you again. “You’d rather be in the knight’s position.”

“No. No. It’s just…”

Warmth already crept between your thighs--even as danger weighed in the air. Only intensified by the Viper’s presence.

“Stop talking.”

“Are they still there?”

He didn’t answer you, but he didn’t look away from you either. You couldn’t stand it, burning under him, you almost debated your survival rate if you would have just ran.

“Is that who you were after? Or... what?” you asked. “There were like, five of those things around it. Eating him. I couldn’t even see anything other than the helmet, really I —”

“No.”

“No?”

“That isn’t what I was after.” He hushed you through the muzzle.

You took a beat, looking him over. You couldn’t remember if you had ever seen him blink.

“What were you after then?”

The Viper grunted, a deep sound before collapsing a large hand around your mouth, the leather warm against your skin. It only gave you more time to notice his body positioned, how his large thigh was between both of yours. You couldn’t get over how good he smelled, how you’d never smelled any soaps like it in all of your life, unable to compare it to fresh flowers or a rare rain.

It was a few more minutes with his hand silencing you before he was lifting, pulling you with him.

“Come.”

“Oh no. Not this again. You’re not gonna trick me with your fucking--” you gestured toward him, having pulled yourself from his grip now, “--whatever it is that you do to me, Kylo.”

His name left your mouth differently this time, full of spite, and his fists squeezed at his sides. You waited for him to say something, you figured you were better off continuing.

“You do know there’s brothels for that? I know that you probably get everything you want as the local nightmare, but I’m not exactly okay with being a toy at your once-a-month disposal. Were you even going to come to the inn?”

Another deafening silence. You swore he didn’t move a muscle the whole while you spoke.

“You followed me.”

Your stomach sank, your eyes darting to the scattered leaves he’d made your sanctuary.

“I’m not coming with you. I’ll walk back. We aren’t even far.” Your confidence was very convincing. At least you thought.

“Hm.”

He brought his attention from your toes, to your eyes, then back again before he was turning. You hadn’t noticed Luxe before, but she was barely standing a few feet away from the Witcher, waiting patiently.

You weren’t pouting, but your brows furrowed as you watched him, mouth puckering like he’d just failed a subconscious test. The Viper sent a leg over his horse, mounting it in an easy sweep. You’d get back with or without him.

Brushing some of the mud from your skirts, deciding you needed to tie them up so you could get out of the forest more efficiently.

You leaned down--and were snatched up by your blouse, placed perfectly in front of Kylo on the saddle, facing him, your chests touching as they had before. One of his hands twisted in the reigns, using his fingertips to kick your legs over his like they were an irritant.

And when you did, you felt a hard outline through his trousers. Your heart shot into your ears.

You found your hands tightening into the chainmail at his arms, earning another look from him. He surveyed you under thick lashes before scooping your skirts to your belly.

“You followed me into the forest.”

Swallowing a whine, you made an effort to keep eye contact with him, finding a new speck of amber each time.

“I— told you I would follow you back to camp, get you alone…”

Your jaw was captured in his stitched fingertips, turning you toward his eclipsed gaze while the horse continued to walk along.

“Naughty, naive thing. Trying to get yourself killed.”

His hand moved between the both of you and unzipped his pants--you couldn’t help but watch. It released his cock immediately, breaking any restraint you mustered, a whine coming through parted lips.

You’d never seen it, only felt it against your belly when he’d fingered you in the stables. And it was more than you could have ever imagined. Your mouth watered at the sight of the pink tip, already lined with precum. It was the only skin he’d revealed--other than what you saw around his eyes--but you imagined his cock would reach his navel if he were naked.

You wanted him so badly you couldn’t wait. And it was written all over your face. He lifted your hips, peeling your wet underwear from your cunt. A hiss pushed through his mask, before he jerked his wrist and tore them off in a single motion.

Kylo kept you against the front of his saddle, using it as leverage to angle you down onto his cock. Your jaw nearly unhinged at the feeling of him splitting you open, burning and satisfying all in one go. His brow furrowed, his focus between your thighs as he sunk into you.

It was almost too much to handle, your spine arched against the sculpted wood, desperate to fill yourself with every inch of him. You’d thought about it so many times, spun so many fantasies at your fingertips at the thought of his cock filling you, but nothing matched this.

It was unrivaled.

“Hold onto me,” the Viper demanded through clenched teeth.

His thighs tightened under your knees, and you did as he asked. Your forehead fell on his shoulder, and his hand left you, sinking you down to the hilt, packing you to the most undiscovered bits.

He snapped at the reigns, and the steed went from a steady trot to a fierce gallop, bouncing you off his lap, his cock pounding your cervix--you squealed, biting at the material of his armor. His body was so easy to hold onto, one of your arms hooked under his, the other draping over his shoulder, fingers linking to secure yourself against his frame.

But that didn’t give you any relief against him. Lewd slaps melded with hooves hitting the ground, not even sure where you were or where you were going now. Your eyes rolled back into your head, an impending orgasm taking hold just as the curve of Kylo’s glove found your throat.

“My name,” he growled.

You clenched around him and conceded to his demand. A sharp cry broke through your climax, giving the knowledge of exactly who was wrecking you to all of the forest. The Witcher was not in control of the motions that were snapping you to his dick, dropping the lead to lock both of his murderous hands on each side of your waist in order to change that.

Kylo used your weight to slam you down, primal, lascivious noises puffing from the mask. You could barely keep your eyes open, stars fuzzing in your blackened gaze while you just took every delicious inch he was forcing into you.

“Fuck, slut. You have no idea what you’ve done.”

You couldn’t answer him, you could barely even comprehend what he was saying. Every time the metal-plated hooves hit the ground it vibrated through Kylo’s body to make home in yours, unyielding in its wreckage.

Another noise fled you--this time it seemed to stir up the horse, nearly knocking you off of the path that was a blur behind the Viper’s back. He removed his hand and waved it behind you, somehow soothing the steed before it found a new home on your already-pulsing clit, using your juices to easily swipe it back and forth with tight urgency. Your body would have twisted if it wasn’t for your heels locked under his calves, but Kylo showed no mercy. He forced you to take all of him once he felt your rigid walls flutter in warning, only the motions of your ride adjusting his cock in the stubborn burrow it found. You felt like human gelatin as you came again, and he gave you no time to relish in it.

He strangled you, snapping you back against the neck of the steed, giving it the perfect angle for your back to curve. He grabbed the ties of your bodice, tugging them and releasing your breasts from their confines. The Viper grunted, keeping his cock deep while he pushed the skirts back above your waist. You could barely breathe. But you didn’t care.

He wanted to see all of you.

Whines combined with quick breaths as you watched him, awaiting his next move. Then he pulled his mask under his chin.

Your heart stopped.

But you only got a glimpse of his lips, perfect and full, before they were on your breasts, suckling as if he would get oxygen from your perked nipples. His hands snaking under your back to force you further into his face. His teeth sank into the soft flesh of your tit, drawing blood as his canines dragged against the skin. You hissed, invading his hood with his hand to find the hidden tendrils of his hair. You couldn’t even wrap your mind around the fact that you had seen a flash of his full face. It was too good--he was your mind and body.

He fucked you relentlessly, your ass starting to sore from the way it shifted on the straddle every time you bounced on it. Your thighs grazed his leather trousers, red with an angry rash that you would feel tomorrow. When he let go of your throat, you sucked in a deprived breath.

Kylo’s mouth was hot, needy, devouring every bit of your chest, leaving possessive purple marks in his wake. He groaned at each force of motion into your saturated cunt, forcing himself over the edge, no warning before he was spilling his seed into you. The only thing you could feel was the slow force of his hips, needing the extra friction, becoming feral on your chest. You glistened with his spit.

Again, the Viper returned his mask before you even had a chance. His back straightened, towering over you as you desperately tried to catch your breath. But he didn’t pull himself out of you, tugging you to the seat properly, your skirts falling back over it.

You felt dizzy, your cheeks hot with blood, only hiding your tits when you realized you were trailing back into town, crimson staining your top when you redressed.

Your walls still pumped, the aftermath of your orgasm reminding that he was inside of you, his cock softening at every passing building. Still, he made no effort to empty you. Not until you made it to the Phesantry.

He huffed and scooped under your armpits to lift you off his horse, leaving you bare with a cocktail of juices flowing down your legs.

The only thing you noticed was Kylo tucking the ripped material of your panties into his pocket. Then he was gone, without so much as another glance.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren smut #witcher!kylo #kylo ren x you #ben solo x you #ben solo x reader #witcher fanfic #witcher fanfiction #hv.

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stayextrafrosty · 3 years

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I’m Dying for a Taste of You: Chapter 4

Chapter Title: We Made a Deal With the Devil

Chapter summary: Michael takes Alex back to the place they met. They run in old vampires from Michael’s past

A/N: I went back and forth about how to do this chapter. But I settled on something different. Michael/Alex/Forrest. This will be a one chapter thing so don't fret too much. But this was a fun challenge for me! I hope you like even if it's not strictly Malex.

Kinks explored: Threesome dynamics, double anal penetration, exhibitionism

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

Alex bounced his leg in the passenger seat of Michael’s truck. Why had he agreed to this? Michael had a grin plastered on his face ever since he had gotten him changed. He had bought him a whole outfit for the blood ball. And even that might be too generous.

Alex was exposed more than he had ever been. Even if all the important parts were covered. He had never dressed like this while around other people. Hell, he never wore this stuff for former boyfriends in private. But Michael had asked. And the looks he was giving him warmed his skin.

He was wrapped up in a black leather harness. The straps wrapped around his neck like a collar and ran down the center of his chest before wrapping under his arms to his back. A triangle surrounded each peck like a bra would and more straps crisscrossed around his abs and back until they disappeared under the jeans he was wearing. They wrapped around his legs like a garter, accenting the scrap of fabric Michael had insisted was underwear even though it only covered his member.

Alex shifted in his seat and shivered, the rough fabric of the jeans rubbing over him. He could ditch the pants but it was something he had insisted on to preserve modesty. Michael had pouted but still said he could wear whatever made him feel comfortable. He had asked Michael if he kept any make-up. He was given a small cosmetic bag and used the eyeliner. Just like he used to in high school.

Michael on the other hand was a walking sex symbol. His jeans were a black and looked like leather though they weren’t. Alex often found himself focusing on the fact that he was most definitely not wearing anything under them. He wore a tight corset vest made with real brown leather trim and a black silk cotton mix for the rest. His chest hair peeking out and muscles rippling with every move must have come straight from a wet dream Alex would have had in high school. Or even now.

Michael glanced at him and smirked. Busted. Alex didn’t stop staring, waiting for the streetlights above them to illuminate the beautiful man. His curls were perfectly tousled from Alex’s hands when he had jumped him just before they left. All he wanted was to rip the clips open and run his mouth over every inch of him.

“I’d like to at least make it into the building, Manes. But if you keep looking at me like that, I might have to change our plans.” His cock jumped at the suggestion. He just grinned.

“You know I wouldn’t mind that.” Michael’s hands gripped the steering wheel and Alex drooled as the muscles through his arms tensed.

They pulled into the parking lot of the same ballroom looking building as the last week. Michael took a deep breath, looking up at the name scrawled above the doors. Sacrificial. Alex wondered how often random clubbers tried to get in not knowing exactly what it was. There were bouncers for a reason. Michael took his hand, pulling his attention back to him.

“You trust me right?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. But why?” Michael swallowed and opened the console that separated them. He pulled a bag out and there was a faint clinking. Alex’s eyes widened at the chain leash he held in his hand. He looked between Michael and the chain. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You want to try it? I won’t make you wear it if you hate it.” Alex nodded slowly. He didn’t miss the small smile that settled on Michael’s lips. He leaned over and tugged at the collar of the harness. Alex leaned closer and Michael clipped the leash to the ring that sat on his throat.

The metal was cool to the touch and not as heavy as he expected. He ran his fingers over the chain and followed it down to where Michael held the black leather grip. He met Michael’s eyes again. The temperature in the truck seemed to spike as Michael panted and squeezed the grip.

“Come here,” he ordered. His voice low and scratchy sent need racing through Alex’s body.

He climbed carefully over the console to straddle Michael’s legs. Alex ran his hands over his face gently, pressing his groin against him. Michael tugged on the leash, pulling him down to his lips. Alex whined at the cool metal brushing over his skin and the firm hold Michael had on him.

Their lips moved over each other slowly, tongues meeting in the middle. Alex rocked his hips at a similar pace, making Michael moan softly. He pulled on the leash harder, nibbling on Alex’s bottom lip. His other hand traced the pattern of the harness down to his hips before grabbing him and moving his hips faster.

Alex sighed as they rutted against each other. He wanted more. But Michael stopped them, stilling Alex’s hips and smirking into the kiss.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he asked, cocky as ever.

“As long as you’re the only one holding the other end,” Alex responded.

“No one will come near you. They just get to be jealous.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the mark gently. He let his lips trail over Alex’s jaw and down his neck, pressing a kiss where his fingers had just been. Alex sighed and let his head roll to the side. Michael growled. “So fucking hot. So good for me.” His hips rolled at the praise.

Michael just chuckled and opened the door, encouraging Alex to climb out. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and Alex was sure that was exactly what he intended. The wind blew and he shivered. Michael came up behind him, pressing his chest to his back. His breath was warm next to his ear.

“Keep your eyes down. There’s special guests in attendance and they don’t particularly like humans. I will protect you, ok?” Alex turned his head toward him, eyes narrowing.

“Then why are we here? You sound like you don’t want to be.” Michael shook his head and looked toward the doors to the club.

“Because I’ve been requested. And these aren’t the type of people you can just turn down.”

Alex sighed and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He knew the vampire world had a hierarchy and that it was based on age. In other words, Michael had been summoned by a very old vampire and if he didn’t show up, they might kill him for being rude.

“I’ll behave. I promise.” Michael smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Hopefully, they’ll get bored and leave early.” Alex snorted out a laugh. Vampires bored at a blood ball? Very unlikely.

They walked to the door hand in hand. Alex heard distant whispers but couldn’t make out any of what was being said. The music could be heard from inside, slow and pulsing. Alex looked around as they walked through the doors. He fit in better than the previous week. He matched the other donors but was still the most clothed out of all of them.

There was a firm yank on his collar as Michael dropped his hand. Alex stumbled forward slightly and glanced at him, surprised at the sudden shift in mood. Michael stood taller, less relaxed and his teeth poked out from his lips. He didn’t look at Alex.

He followed his line of vision to a group of people. All stunning and very obviously vampires. One fed on a girl who was completely naked and her eyes were slowly drifting closed. Alex wanted to look away but it was like a car crash. The man dropped her now limp body, kicking it away from his feet.

Alex could have thrown up. His fingers twitched and he wanted to reach for the gun he knew he didn’t have. How dare they just toss her away like she was nothing. Another firm tug on the leash made him look at Michael, who mouthed the word ‘down.’

He took a deep breath and walked a step behind Michael, looking at the ground as opposed to the horror they were coming up to. He knew there was a woman and three men but he was too distracted by the dying girl to take in their appearances. He chanced a glance at Michael’s back. He could see the tension in his muscles but there was no other indicator that he was reacting to the horrifying scene at all.

“Ah Michael. So you decided to show up. Is that a snack for us?” A chill ran down Alex’s spine at the woman’s cold voice.

“Apologies, Alayna. I didn’t—”

“You claimed a human,” one of the men exclaimed. Alex did his best to smother his reaction to being talked about as though he was nothing.

“Now this is an interesting development. What happened to the Michael that called other vampires stupid for keeping a human by their side,” the woman, Alayna, asked? He wanted to look at Michael but he kept his eyes glued to the floor.

“With all due respect, Alayna, that was several hundred years ago. He happens to be a blood match.” She hummed her acknowledgement.

“Well I suppose I can’t fault you for that.” A pair of stilettoes stood in front of him. Long legs accented with fishnets and a skirt that was short in the front while the back dragged over the floor was all he could see. The smell of blood wafted over him and he tried not to gag. Fear raced through him. He had no weapons. Completely exposed. “Look at me slave.” He clenched his fists and raised his head slowly.

Her hair was dark and eyes blood red. Other than that she looked almost normal. Besides the fact she could have been a model. She lifted a hand that had claws for nails and grabbed his face, turning it to the side and exposing his mark. He fought against the instinct that told him to break her arm.

“Well he certainly smells heavenly. I’d love to taste him.” His eyes widened, ready to panic. He was pushed back and Michael stood in front of him. Alayna raised an eyebrow.

“Forgive my selfishness miss but I have to deny that request. You see I promised that no one else would hurt him. That’s my job after all.” Alayna let out a laugh and moved back to the cushioned chair she sat in before.

“Of course. But be careful Michael, if you let them think you care, they might expect something like love. Besides, wouldn’t a vampire be better for sex? They’re so much more durable. I know the last time I was here we had some fun.” Alex’s eyes darted between the two of them. Michael had been involved with this woman who reeked of blood?

He glanced over at the men. The one that had been feeding on the girl looked high. His eyes were closed and a content smile rested on his face. The peaceful nature was ruined by his teeth still fully extended and dead body at his feet. Another sat and observed Michael and Alayna. He had blonde hair and his eyes seemed normal. Blood stains ran down his face and chest.

The last man… watched Alex. Not a drop of blood was on him. Everything was still pristine and white. His hair was obviously dyed blue and black hair was dusted over his chin and chest. His shirt flowed and the buttons opened down to his bellybutton. His jeans were also white. Alex realized he was staring too late.

“Michael, you should teach your slave some respect. Show some humility. Gratefulness that he isn’t dead,” Alayna snapped. Alex jumped and looked back towards Michael. The chain was yanked and suddenly he was face to face with Michael, though he seemed to tower over him. His eyes were gentle and he swallowed before speaking.

“Apologize to Forrest,” he ordered. Alex redirected his eyes to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Forrest. Forgive my rudeness.”

“Sheesh Alayna. No need to be so cruel. I was the one staring at him.” His voice was warm and soft. Alex heard the rustling of clothes and the white pants were next to him and Michael. “What’s your name?”

“You’re too soft on humans. They’re sources of food. Treat them like it.” There was no real bite to her voice. But then again she was talking to one of her own.

A gentle finger was lifting his chin and he was staring into dark eyes. They looked on him fondly as Michael would. Maybe he wasn’t like the rest of them. A soft smile rested on his face and Alex couldn’t help the way the corners of his own mouth turned up.

“Alex,” he mumbled out, not wanting to anger Alayna further.

Michael grabbed Forrest’s wrist, pulling his hand away from Alex. He glanced at Michael and found a stiff smile on his face. The hand that was holding the leash pulled roughly, bringing Alex to Michael’s side.

“No disrespect, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from touching him. He is my claimed after all.” Forrest just nodded and smiled at them both. Though his gaze lingered slightly longer on Alex. Michael released his wrist, dropping it back to his side.

“I see we’re in the possessive stage. It’ll pass eventually.”

Alex wanted to shrink into nothing and disappear from the icy glare Michael was giving Forrest. He chanced a scolding from Alayna and wrapped his fingers around Michael’s arm loosely. His harsh gaze was redirected at him and a chill ran down Alex’s spine. Michael jerked his arm out of his hold and grabbed his throat. He wasn’t squeezing hard, but it was enough to make Alex completely forget about where they were.

His eyes fluttered closed as Michael turned his head to the side and sunk his teeth into the Mark. He didn’t take anything but the small amount of venom made his veins burn. As though someone was holding a lit match just above his skin. When he pulled away, he felt Michael’s lips brushing against his ear.

“Don’t look at him,” he threatened. Alex shivered but kept his mouth shut. He kept his eyes cast down as Michael released him.

“Was that display really necessary,” Forrest asked, scoffing slightly? Display?

“Well I find it incredibly offensive that you seem to be ogling something that belongs to me.” A stiff silence followed. Alex shifted closer to Michael, needing the cool touch of his skin just to calm his system. Biting him had been a show of dominance.

“Well, your claim might be enough to keep weaklings away but do you really think I couldn’t have him if I wanted?” Forrest’s voice was amused and taunting. Alex could only assume Michael had some sort of high standing if he had been involved with Alayna, but the way Forrest talked made it sound like he was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“I dare you to test that theory.” Alex jerked his head up to stare at Michael. His nose twitched with anger and red had taken over his eyes. He grabbed his arm again.

“Michael, please don’t,” Alex pleaded. Michael glanced at him and then back at Forrest. He took a deep breath as the red slowly retreated.

“I can’t believe you let him talk to you like that. Not a single respectful sentence leaves his mouth,” the blonde vampire that had been watching spoke for the first time. “If he was mine I’d break his jaw.” Alex slinked back, fear creeping through him.

“Shut up Caber,” Forrest snapped. “You have this bad habit of getting involved in my affairs.” Caber looked at Forrest, flashing a dazzling smile.

“I just get jealous. You never want to share blood anymore,” he said, pouting. Michael stepped into his line of view. Shielding him from the two arguing vampires.

“I hate to cut this meeting short but I’d rather be anywhere else. So excuse us,” Michael said while stepping away from them, towards a darkened corner of the club labeled Alter.

They didn’t make it two steps before Alayna was standing in front of Michael and lifting a clawed hand to his chin. She smiled at him in a way Alex was sure was supposed to be seductive. He looked to the floor before she caught him staring.

“I only wish you offered to share. We could have had fun after he was drained. You know your blood has always been my favorite.” Alex’s eyes snapped up. He watched her press her lips to Michael’s who didn’t reject her. He felt a light pull on his leash, making him look down to his clenched fists.

Alex kept his eyes trained on the floor until he couldn’t see her shoes anymore. Michael pulled him along and he followed silently. He held a curtain open as they walked through and Alex finally looked up.

Deep purple lights lined the ceiling with blue lights providing the ability to see. Sort of. Alex had to rely on Michael to make sure he didn’t trip over any tables or run into any chairs. Eventually, they entered a larger room. Lounging couches lined the walls as if they were set up in stations. Stages were scattered around with ropes hanging above them and some had people suspended.

Alex watched a woman spin with her arms and legs trust up so her legs were spread and wrists bound together. Her body was marked by bites and she looked like she could have been high. Another woman wrapped in all leather ran her hands over the other before leaning down and biting. Alex looked away, trying to preserve their privacy. Though he got the impression it wasn’t exactly important in this area. They walked past most of the people in the front area and entered a door towards the back.

“Where are we going,” Alex asked.

“To the spot made exclusively for Vampire/human pairs.” Alex heard the grin in his voice and he felt a blush rise to his face.

The room looked similar to the other but curtains hung in between each ‘station.’ The curtains were see-through but they obscured the furniture – and people – behind them slightly. Some were left open, people still not concerned with privacy.

Michael took him to an area near the back where a black couch almost as wide as a twin bed sat with a wooden table in front of it. Various bottles of wine and hard liquor sat on the table, along with small snacks.

Alex didn’t have time to appreciate it fully. Michael tugged on his leash, pulling his body flush against him. He pressed his forehead against Alex’s his free hand running over his face and down his neck to his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know Forrest would… be like that.”

“I was more scared of Alayna,” he responded, lifting his hands to run over Michael’s arms now that he was free to touch him. Forrest intrigued him. He found himself wondering how different it would feel to be bitten by him.

“You should be. As annoying as he was, had Forrest not stepped in you could have been seriously hurt. Still won’t thank the asshole.” Michael backed up and lounged on the couch. Alex stood at the edge, running his eyes over him. He smirked and pulled on the leash again, making Alex stumble forward into his lap.

Alex crawled up his body and assumed the same position from when they were in the truck. He ran his hands over Michael’s face gently, running his thumb over his lips.

“She kissed you. I hated that she could.” Michael shifted beneath him, pressing his hips up against him.

“I’m yours Alex. You taste far better.” Alex couldn’t help but chuckle as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to his mouth. Michael slipped his tongue over his and Alex sighed. His hips rocked slowly, neither of them in any real rush.

Michael traced the straps of his harness, occasionally tugging on them. Alex dug his nails into his shoulders and scratched. The venom in his system had subsided rather quickly but he was ready for more. He knew Michael had plans for him and he was always eager to please him.

Forrest’s face popped into his mind. Alex jerked back from Michael, looking over his face to make sure he was still kissing who he thought he was. Michael’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Alex forced a smile and just shook his head, running his hands up and over his face again. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

When he pulled back, instead of golden curls, his fingers were threaded through soft blue strands. His eyes were darker and hands less calloused on his skin. The fingers gripped his waist and his eyes drifted closed as he kissed Forrest again.

The fingers on his skin fluttered over him, raising goosebumps. There was a prick of fangs on his lip as Forrest tugged on it. He pulled on his hair while grinding down on his obviously hard cock. His white shirt was fully open and Alex pressed their chests together. His touch was so much cooler than Michael, providing him some relief from the burning need in his groin.

“So you do want me. I was worried Michael had compelled you to devotion,” Forrest said.

“Michael wouldn’t do that to me,” Alex assured pulling back.

“I wouldn’t do what?” Alex’s eyes popped open. Settling back on his scruffy face. His touch burned on his skin and his mark throbbed. Alex crawled off him, instead sitting next to him and hiding his face in his arms. He had actually hallucinated Forrest. What was wrong with him?

“I… I…” he stammered out. If he told Michael, he would definitely get pissed. He didn’t want to be thinking of Forrest. But all he could imagine was having the soft plains of his chest pressed against his back. Michael touched his shoulder and squeezed.

“You saw Forrest?” Alex’s head snapped up to stare at him. How had he known? He didn’t look upset. Maybe annoyed but not mad. “He can put visions into people’s minds. I figured he’d do it to test our bond. You looked into his eyes earlier right?” Alex nodded wordlessly.

“You’re… not mad?” Michael chuckled and shook his head. He took Alex’s hand and pulled the fingers to his mouth to kiss them.

“No. I’ve known Forrest a while. He can be a real arrogant ass sometimes. And it’s not like I can blame you for being attracted to him. I’m not blind,” he said, playing with his fingers. “It’s not uncommon for vampires to share you know. You may be mine but I didn’t compel devotion.”

“That’s what he said,” Alex mentioned. Michael nodded.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but those who are claimed have the desire to be bitten. It’s instinct. Because I’m your Sire those feelings are usually directed towards me but your desire for other people doesn’t go away. I could compel it away but I told you I hated using that power.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t explain that to him earlier.” Alex turned his head to the new voice. Forrest stood with his arms crossed and leaning against the pillar holding up the curtains. He looked just as he did in the vision. Shirt completely open and a noticeable bulge that made Alex’s mouth water. He heard Michael sigh.

“Why would I tell him before it comes up? Not all claimed are just down for a threesome or gangbang. And sue me for wanting to keep him for myself.” Forrest rolled his eyes and Alex’s face was burning. This conversation sounded way to casual.

“I don’t blame you. But we could share him. Like the old days? Haven’t had anyone good in a long time and even Alayna knows you have good taste.”

“Is there some reason I’m not part of this conversation,” Alex said, pulling the two men’s attention back to him.

“It’s obviously your decision Alex. But it’s common courtesy that the interested parties ask permission from the Sire,” Forrest explained, glancing at Michael.

“And you two have done stuff like this together before?” Michael snorted.

“Surprisingly, we work well together. At least in that aspect. So,” Michael tugged gently on his leash. “If you’re interested. I can put up with him.”

“Oh, bite me Guerin,” Forrest scolded as he moved to stand in front of the couch, hands in his pockets. Michael glanced up at him and smirked.

“I had planned on it.”

“Earlier… you two didn’t seem to like each other,” Alex pointed out. In fact they had seemed downright hostile.

“An act mostly,” Forrest said, shrugging. “Alayna would have been jealous if she had been denied and I wasn’t.” Alex nodded slowly. The wrath of Alayna was never something he wanted to see. Alex looked at Michael who smiled at him sweetly, twisting the chain of the leash around his fingers.

“Let me make something clear, Alex. The only reason I’m entertaining the idea is because it’s Forrest. I trust him. I would tear anyone else who tried this apart,” Michael said, leaning close and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Alex looked up at Forrest as Michael kissed his way over his jaw.

A smiled of his own sat on his face as he kneeled on the couch, pressing a leg in between Alex’s spreading them open. Forrest leaned in and kissed him slowly as Michael’s mouth ran over his neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin. Alex reached up and spread his fingers over Forrest’s abs and dragged them down until they dipped into the waist band of his jeans. He tugged him closer until Forrest was grabbing onto Michael for stability.

The prick of fangs on his lip made Alex sigh. The need was only fueled as he felt Michael sink his own fangs into the mark again, letting his venom flow into him. Alex’s hips rolled up against Forrest who moaned at the friction.

Forrest was pulled from Alex’s mouth by Michael. Alex watched in awe as the two vampires pressed their mouths together, rough and fast. They paid no mind to their teeth and let themselves scratch and bite. Forrest sucked on Michael’s lip where it bled, pulling a soft groan from him. Alex ran one hand over Michael’s arm and the other slipped over Forrest’s chest, pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

Michael helped with getting rid of the offending fabric. Then Forrest was breaking away from Michael, blood still on his lips, and kissing Alex again. Alex whined at the combined taste of the two men. It didn’t last long before he was being pulled by the chain on his neck. Alex’s cock ached under his jeans. But there were people around and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that step.

Michael pulled him in to straddle his legs again, grabbing Alex’s hips and pulling him down so he could feel the excitement in his own pants. He felt Forrest at his back, mouth running over his shoulder and neck opposite the mark. The nerves in his body screamed for more. Michael leaned up and kissed him, slipping his tongue past his lips. Alex’s brain was scattered. Torn between focusing on kissing Michael and Forrest’s teeth scratching along his skin.

Forrest pressed his hard-on against Alex’s ass, grinding against him slowly. He wasn’t sure whose hands were where. A pair ran over his skin, tracing the lines of the harness and another was popping the button on his jeans open. The arms wrapped around him, hands slipping into his pants and palming his cock. Alex couldn’t help the way his own hips thrusted into the touch. Michael broke away from his mouth and started undoing the clips on his vest.

“Good boy. Remember your punishment?” The question was accented by the brief squeeze of Forrest’s hand around him. He tried to smother his moan but only succeeded in making a high-pitched whine. “Forrest, would you like to taste him,” Michael asked, a smirk settling on his face as his own fangs extended to their full length.

Forrest hummed against his skin and he licked at the junction of his shoulder and neck. Alex’s body burned and his hips kept rubbing against Forrest’s hand and the bulge in Michael’s jeans. Michael’s vest fell open and he shrugged it off his shoulders. The movement forced him to lean close to Alex, pressing their chests together.

There was a pinch on his shoulder as Forrest pulled his attention to where he was attached to his skin. Alex called out and his hips jerked with the stab of pain. It vanished almost instantly with a new warmth rolling through his body. Desire leaked from the tip of his cock and he thought he heard Michael chuckle but he was too focused on Forrest.

Alex’s hand tangled in his hair, holding him in place as his eyes closed in bliss. The hand on his cock didn’t stop in its movements. Michael’s hands gripped his hips and brought him down against him again.

“Fuck,” Alex gasped out. Michael’s mouth landed on the mark, kissing once, twice, then biting. Stars danced behind his eyes and his free hand clawed at Michael’s back. He was rock hard and he needed release. Forrest pressed against his ass more firmly, the clench of his jaw making him leak more. The underwear he was in was soaked through and the dampness rubbing over him made him squirm.

He heard Forrest groan as he tasted Alex. He rocked his hips faster, forgetting where he was. Moans tumbled from his lips, louder with every jerk of the hand on his cock. Both pairs of fangs buried in his skin, feeling every clench of their jaws, blood being drawn to the surface and licked away.

Alex’s head was spinning, lost in the pure bliss of having the attentions of both men. Michael released him first, dragging his lips up his throat and pressing them to his ear. He nipped at his earlobe and Alex’s hips jerked again.

“Cum baby. I know you want to. Let everyone here know how good it feels.” A shudder rolled through his body and the hand on his cock squeezed just enough. A choked sound ripped out of his throat and his hips stuttered as the chain at his neck pulled him down. Michael’s mouth swallowed his moans as Forrest licked at the wound on his shoulder before tracing his lips to his spine and nipping gently.

Cum spilled over Forrest’s hand and Michael’s abs. The burning under his skin refused to stop and he broke away from Michael’s lips. He just shifted his attentions to his chest and nipples. Forrest released his still twitching dick and dragged his blunt nails over his skin. Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he caught the gaze of another couple a few stations down from them.

The guy smiled at him and licked his lips, fangs dripping with the blood of the girl that was wrapped in his arms, evidence of bites all over her back. The girl met his eyes next and smiled as well before pulling her vampire in for a deep kiss.

His attention was pulled back to his own men when Forrest dipped his fingers into the waist band of his jeans and began to pull them down, exposing his ass. Alex’s hands flew to Michael’s shoulders and he dug his fingers in.

His body screamed but he had just enough sense to want more privacy than they currently had. Michael stopped almost immediately and wrapped a hand around Forrest’s wrists, stopping him from pulling Alex’s jeans down too much.

“Be a good guest and draw the heavy curtains,” Michael said before nuzzling against Alex. Without a second thought, Forrest was gone and pulling the mesh curtains closed and then moving to a panel on the wall Alex hadn’t seen before. He pressed a button and dark red curtains began to drop from the ceiling.

“Still shy are we,” Forrest teased gently. Alex’s cheeks flushed. Forrest wasn’t shaming him, more making an observation about how he was different from other claimed humans.

“We’ll get there,” Michael said next to his ear. His breath raised goosebumps on his skin. The curtains hit the floor with a gentle thump. Forrest was kneeling next to Michael and running his hands over both him and Alex. His fingers caught on the harness he was wearing tugging his body one way while Michael pulled on the leash in the other direction.

“I have an idea if you’re interested,” Forrest said, leaning in and kissing Michael’s neck. The hand that was touching Alex dipped into his jeans again, continuing their earlier mission of ridding him of them.

Michael groaned at the wet kisses on his throat and his hips rolled up against Alex. The rough material of his jeans against his oversensitive cock made him whimper. Alex dipped his head down, kissing the other side of Michael’s neck, nipping occasionally.

“He has a very pretty mouth, why don’t we make use of it,” he heard Forrest say. A low laugh rumbled out of Michael. Alex was being both pushed and pulled to one side. Forcing him to crawl off Michael and sit on the couch. Michael held onto the chain attached to his harness and his cock twitched watching him wrap it around his hand for a better grip.

Michael and Forrest stood and moved in front of him. Michael pulled the chain, bringing his attention to him. He grinned and leaned in close.

“How’s your gag reflex looking these days, hunter?” Michael pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he could answer. He knelt in front of Alex and pulled his jeans down his legs, careful of the prosthesis. The scrap of fabric that was supposed to be underwear was pulled down with the pants.

Then Michael stood again and tugged the leash so Alex was on the edge of the couch. Forrest ran hand through Alex’s hair before gripping a handful and forcing him to look at the bulge in his pants.

“It’s easier to suck if you take the pants off,” Forrest taunted. Alex lifted his hands to the button and worked quickly. He licked his lips and heard Forrest chuckle. “Well he’s eager.” Alex looked up at him through his eyelashes, pulling his hard member from his pants.

He wasn’t as thick as Michael but slightly longer. When Alex finally wrapped his mouth around him, Forrest let out a long sigh of content as his hips rocked forward slowly. The fingers tangled in his hair tugged gently, encouraging him to take him deeper. Alex heard the rustling of clothes and Michael was taking his free left hand and placing it on his own cock.

Alex rubbed his thumb over the leaking tip, spreading the precum over the head. His own groin throbbed like he hadn’t just cum. He didn’t know whether he cursed the venom or was grateful for it.

He watched Forrest above him. His eyes had closed and the blood dripping from his lips was starting to dry. Michael shifted closer to both of them, leaning over and running his tongue over the drip of blood, cleaning his from his neck and chin. Forrest’s fingers tightened in his hair again and Alex mimicked the grip on Michael’s cock. Alex took Forrest to the back of his throat at the same time Michael bit into his shoulder.

Alex didn’t move for a couple seconds, swallowing around the cock in his mouth. Forrest groaned and cursed, his hips thrusting forward. Alex kept his gag reflex from complaining too much. He pulled off before he could thrust again and switched his attention to Michael, wrapping his mouth around him instead.

The taste of the two men was similarly salty but they were both unique. Alex swirled his tongue around Michael, his moans muffled by his teeth buried in Forrest’s shoulder. His hips rolled forward with the bob of Alex’s head. Forrest set their pace as he pulled and pushed, using his hair as a guide.

As Michael’s hips started to move faster, he was pulled off and returned to Forrest. Alex looked up at them and Michael had released Forrest and they were kissing, Forrest’s hand still tangled in his hair. He watched as their tongues licked at each other, trying to taste the leftovers from the biting.

What was it like for a vampire to be bitten by another? Did they actually drink blood or was it more for the kink? Alex wondered for a moment but as his eyes fluttered closed, the thoughts vanished. He lost himself in the rhythm of Forrest’s hips thrusting in and out of his mouth.

Alex went back and forth between them. Whenever one got too excited he would switch. His fists were wrapped firmly around their cocks, keeping them from going too deep. Alex teased them both like this. Michael’s hand had found its way into his hair alongside Forrest.

“Fuck baby, you’re a menace. You keep us on the edge too long and you might regret it,” Michael warned when Alex was licking over his shaft again. Alex looked up at the two of them and sucked hard on Michael, causing his hips to jerk forward.

The chain attached to him was tugged roughly, pulling him up and off. Alex was between the two of them again, Forrest in front and Michael pressed against his back. He leaned forward and licked at Forrest’s bottom lip before kissing him. He groaned and kissed him back eagerly, fangs pricking his lips.

Michael’s hands busied themselves by running over his ass, fingers just barely brushing over his hole. Alex’s cock jumped at the attention and the muscles clenched. He remembered the way Michael had used him earlier and whimpered against Forrest’s now grinning mouth.

“Are you still stretched out?” Michael pressed a finger into him slowly. Though not enough to be satisfying. “Why don’t we show our friend,” he taunted, brushing his lips over the mark on his neck. The chain was yanked and he was forced to his hands and knees. His cock wept with precum as he hid his face in the back of the couch, face burning from being exposed to someone other than Michael.

He didn’t get to hide long as a hand slipped into his hair and pulled his face up. His back was bent so he couldn’t move. He met the eyes of Forrest who smiled wickedly at him.

“Why don’t you show me what he did to you,” he said. Alex could feel the probing at his brain but opened himself up any way. His mind raced through the memory of Michael fucking him in the shower. His legs being spread open, not being allowed to touch himself, the brief glimpse of Michael buried inside of him in their reflection.

A cool wetness pressed into his ass, pulling him from the memory. His eyes darted to Forrest’s other hand, coated in lube and moving in and out of him slowly. Alex moaned and pressed back against his fingers.

“You fucked him good, he’s addicted to it. Then again you do have that effect on people,” Forrest said, glancing at Michael. Alex heard Michael chuckle and felt his hands on the inside of his thighs, pushing his legs apart.

“What can I say? I’m probably addicted to him too. And don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Michael said before kneeling on the couch and pulling Alex’s head back to his hard cock. Alex didn’t fight as he pushed past his lips and started thrusting slowly. He watched his head fall back and mouth open in a silent moan.

Forrest continued to finger him for a moment before Alex felt his hand wrap around his cock and jerk him off. Alex groaned around Michael who shuddered with the vibrations. Forrest scissored his fingers a couple times, making sure he was ready before pulling them out. Alex felt the blunt pressure of his cock and the cool relief of the lube.

Forrest pressed into him slowly, letting out a breathy moan as he moved. Alex tried pressing back against him but Michael held him steady, shoving his cock to the back of his throat. The muscles in Alex’s back flexed as his gag reflex tried to get rid of the intrusion. He willed himself to relax but that was becoming difficult with Forrest grinding against his ass as his cock was completely buried in him. Forrest’s hand was still stroking him slowly.

“I would ask how it feels to be completely filled but I think you’re a bit preoccupied,” Forrest teased. Alex could only groan in response as he started thrusting roughly. Michael’s hand ran over his back and wrapped around one of the straps of the harness. He pulled on it as his hips moved again, fucking his mouth.

Every sensation rolled through him in waves as the venom burned his veins. His cock throbbed as the two men matched tempos, alternating their thrusts. Alex teetered on the edge but his body refused to cum. He had no doubt there was influence from Forrest’s hand wrapped around the head of his cock, stopping it every time.

Michael dug his nails into Alex’s shoulder as tears slipped out of Alex’s eyes after a particularly rough thrust that hit the back of his throat.

“You’re so good baby,” Michael said, slipping out of Alex’s mouth. He leaned down and kissed him, tongue slipping past his lips to taste himself. Forrest pulled out of him and he whined at the emptiness.

“Please don’t stop. I need more,” Alex pleaded, pushing back against Forrest. His hand left his cock and his hips jerked, looking for friction.

“You hear that, Michael?” Forrest asked.

“I did,” he muttered back, a smirk forming on his face.

“How much more do you think he wants?” Michael looked away from him and up at Forrest. Alex tried to reach down and touch himself for some form of relief. His hand was caught by Forrest, who pulled him up to his knees. He rubbed himself along the seam of his ass, occasionally poking his hole.

Alex trembled and Michael reached out, running his fingers first over the mark and then down his chest, over his stomach and abs, and ended by running a finger over the tip of his cock. Alex groaned and pleaded for something. Anything.

“Patience. You know we’ll take care of you,” Michael said almost sweetly. That sweetness was negated as he continued to tease him by running his finger down his shaft and then cupped his balls gently. Alex’s hips jerked but Forrest held him mostly still. His lips ran over the area he had bit earlier. “Remember he’s just human, doesn’t exactly replace blood as fast as us,” Michael reminded Forrest.

“I know. I’ve been at this a bit longer than you,” Forrest teased back before letting his dull teeth sink into Alex’s skin, though not breaking the surface. Alex watched as Michael rolled his eyes and leaned in close, pressing his mouth to Alex’s.

He sighed against his lips as the hand that fondled him moved again, fingers slowly traveling to his ass and slipping inside. The lube Forrest had used earlier easing the way. Alex reached down and wrapped a hand around Michael, stroking him slowly. A rumble from his chest and then he was pulling away.

Michael reached over Alex’s shoulder to push back on Forrest so he was sitting properly on the couch. The three of them moved easily, the support of both of their hands took any work off of Alex and his leg. Then he was sitting in Forrest’s lap, his cock poking at his hole where Michael’s fingers were still buried.

Michael pushed his legs open as far as he could and Alex half fell backward. He steadied himself on Forrest’s arms though he didn’t seem to mind. He kissed his shoulders and ran his hands over Alex’s sides, lightly tickling him.

Alex shuddered and his moan was swallowed by Michael’s mouth. His fingers moved inside him slowly and Forrest’s cock poked at his entrance. Forrest massaged spots on his skin with his tongue, but not long enough to leave any more bruises. He felt Michael shifting around and his free hand brushed over his chest and throat. He unhooked the leash and tossed it to the side, nipping at his lip. Alex’s eyes opened to meet Michael’s and he was grinning.

“Why don’t you show off how full you can stuff your ass?” Alex thought about protesting but his own need screamed to let them do whatever they wanted.

“Oh? Does he like feeling full?” Forrest taunted. Michael pressed against his prostate and Alex couldn’t help but whine.

“Yes, fuck. If one of you doesn’t fuck me soon I might lose my mind,” Alex pleaded. His cock throbbed with need and he heard both of the men chuckle.

“Just one?” Forrest questioned.

“I think we can do better than that,” Michael added. Alex was only confused for a moment before Forrest was pushing his dick inside him alongside Michael’s fingers. Alex cursed and his head fell back, eyes closing. He did the best he could to move his hips but the stretching of his hole prevented it.

He groaned along with Forrest, who’s fingers gripped his hips tight enough he was sure there would be bruises. They moved slowly inside of him, Michael’s fingers tugging on Alex gently, stretching his rim. It wasn’t enough. The slow pace was torture.

“Please, I need—” His words were just about ripped from his throat when Michael took him in his mouth. Moans and pleas for relief went ignored and his body buzzed with need. Forrest began to rock his hips faster and Alex felt his breathing spike.

Michael popped off him with a wet sound and he reached for the bottle of lube that had been tossed to the side earlier. Alex watched him with desperation. He pulled his fingers from his ass slowly and he squirt a healthy amount of lube on his fingers. Michael stroked himself with the lube and Alex felt his legs shake from the stimulation. Once he was coated, he pressed his cock against Alex’s, rubbing them together a few times before he was dragging the head over his skin to wear Forrest still moved inside him.

Alex’s cock twitched with anticipation. Forrest stilled his hips and pulled most of the way out, letting Michael rub the excess lube over him. Forrest moved to the spot he had bit earlier, slowly sinking his teeth in again. Alex gasped as the warmth from the venom spread through him, forcing his muscles to relax.

“There you go, baby,” Michael said gently. “You’ll feel really good soon.” Michael pushed the head of his cock against his rim. Forrest began to move again slowly and Michael pushed against him whenever Forrest moved inside.

The venom moving through Alex made his hips roll. Michael pulled away briefly and slipped his fingers in beside again. The burn of the stretch made Alex’s cock leak. Forrest pulled out so just the tip was still inside. Michael pressed against him again in the small space created by his fingers.

Forrest and Michael pushed in at the same time. Alex yelped and dug his nails into Forrest’s arms. Michael kissed his chest and throat as they continued their shallow thrusts, getting deeper each time. Forrest licked at the wound on his shoulder where a small drop of blood had escaped.

“Oh, god,” Alex moaned out. The initial pain was fading quickly and the two men groaned and grabbed at his skin, fingers catching on the harness. Their movements were easy and picking up speed. They moved opposite one another, each pressing against the same groups of nerves again and again.

“How does it feel? To be fucked by two at once?” Forrest mumbled next to his ear. With the end of the sentence, Michael thrusted into him roughly, his hips pressing down forcing Forrest all the way into him as well. Alex’s body shook with pleasure as he moaned.

“Go on and tell us how you want it, hunter,” Michael added. Alex could barely think straight, much less give them an answer. He moved a hand from Forrest to grab Michael’s shoulder and pull him in for a kiss. He rolled his hips, earning him growls and moans from both of them.

Michael kissed him back for a moment but tore his mouth away and shoved him back against Forrest’s chest who then kissed and bit at his neck and the spot just below his ear. Alex whimpered as they both started thrusting again.

“Use your words,” Forrest threatened against his skin, nails scratching his hips.

“I want—I need—” he stammered out. The two of them moved together, thrusting roughly a few times. “More. I need more,” he finally spit out.

“Good boy,” Michael praised. He wrapped a hand around Alex’s cock and stroked him. Forrest thrusted up, using Alex’s hips to move him deeper. Michael squeezed him firmly as he grinded against him. The twisting in his stomach signaled his orgasm was close. But it could have easily been the fact that both men were buried as far as they could go.

Alex let out a long moan as Michael and Forrest fucked him. They slipped along each other easily thanks to the lube. He let go of Forrest’s arm and reached behind him to tangle it in his hair instead, holding his lips to his skin. Alex locked eyes with Michael and reached for him with his free hand. Michael leaned in close, pressing his forehead to Alex’s, hand still stroking his cock.

“Harder,” Alex ordered them.

He saw Michael smile and neither of them questioned it. Their hips were no longer in sync as they thrusted into him. Forrest’s breathing against his shoulder was ragged and shallow, low grunts vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck, Alex. We’re gunna break you if we go any harder,” Michael warned. Alex knew they were holding back but his body screamed. The venom pulsing under his skin making him needy.

“I don’t care. I need it,” Alex pleaded. Michael growled and his fangs poked out from his lips. Forrest’s nails scratched up over his torso, leaving long red lines. His teeth poked at the wound on his shoulder again.

His permission made them snap. Michael’s cock throbbed as he shoved himself balls deep. Forrest followed his lead and Alex’s breath left him in a gasp. He heard Michael curse as his hips thrusted back and forth, waiting for Forrest to thrust in before pulling out again. Forrest bit his shoulder roughly and Alex whimpered.

Michael’s free hand wrapped around Alex’s throat and the one gripping his cock kept the quick pace. The three of them groaned and sighed together, Alex steadily getting louder as every thrust got harder. Forrest and Michael ravaged his body, taking whatever they needed.

“Fuck. I’m gunna—” Alex didn’t have time to finish his sentence before he came. Michael jerked him as cum rolled over his fingers. “Ah—Ah!” he moaned as the sensitive nerves complained from the continued stimulation.

“You ready to be filled?” Forrest asked, breathless. There was no time to respond before both of them really let themselves go. They used him mercilessly as his own orgasm refused to stop. Alex let his body open wider for them as his cock jerked and throbbed.

Forrest came first, grunting and grinding his hips against his ass roughly. Michael crushed his lips to Alex’s and let his own orgasm come over him. The three of them moaned together as Forrest and Michael thrusted a few extra times while they emptied themselves.

Their heavy breathing was the only thing Alex could hear. And the fluids leaking from his ass made him feel hot but content. The three of them laid on top of each other even as Forrest and Michael pulled out of him.

Slowly the low music re-entered his ears, reminding Alex where they were. He looked around at the heavy curtains. He could distantly hear other moans of ecstasy from other areas of the room. He tried but couldn’t bring himself to care that others might have heard him.

Michael pushed himself up and off of Alex before slipping his arm under his legs and around his back, picking him up and holding him close. Forrest moved to collect his clothes lazily. Michael set Alex on his lap when he sat on the couch, running his fingers up and down his spine.

Alex’s eyes fluttered shut as he rested his head on his shoulder. The rustling of clothes stopped and a second hand landed on his skin. He looked up at Forrest who ran his fingers over the bite on his shoulder.

“You might want to heal that. Or it might scar.” He felt Michael nod. Forrest met Alex’s eyes and smiled. “Michael’s lucky to have you. You’re certainly a handful but taste amazing. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

“You could always stop hanging around with Alayna,” Michael suggested. Forrest just shrugged.

“I’ll hang around her until I can be certain I won’t be hunted for sport,” he said. Michael snorted a laugh but Alex’s eyebrows drew together in worry.

“What do you mean hunted?”

“You’re a hunter. You guys always go after the oldest vampires you can find. Not to mention there’s even a few other vamps that want the oldest dead. Hierarchy and all that shit,” he said nonchalantly. Alex didn’t know how to respond. He had never paid attention to the ages of the vampires he killed. “You keep him safe Michael. Would be a shame to lose one as valuable as him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here,” he said. Alex could pick up the serious promise under the joking tone. Forrest smiled at him one last time before disappearing behind the heavy curtains.

They sat together in silence. Alex traced patterns on his chest while Michael rubbed his back, massaging the muscles. He nuzzled his shoulder while his hand wandered down to his ass, running over the cheeks and his hole gently. Alex whimpered.

“I’ll draw you a bath when we get to my house,” Michael said, kissing his skin and moving his hand back up his spine. Alex nodded and traced his fingers up to Michael’s face, cradling it gently. Alex looked down at his lips and watched as he bit into it, drawing blood. He smiled and closed the distance between them, pressing their mouths together sweetly. The bit of blood slipped over his tongue and it tasted like home. They kissed slowly for a while, lost in each other.

“We should get dressed,” Alex mumbled eventually. Michael gave an exaggerated sigh but began to move anyway. He placed Alex on the couch and moved to pick up their scattered clothes. Alex watched his ass as he moved. As perfect as it was, he was spent for the day.

Michael helped him dress even though he insisted it wasn’t necessary. Alex didn’t even blush when they walked out from behind the heavy curtain. He felt eyes on him but ignored it. Michael had reattached the leash, saying it was only if Alayna was still around.

They made their way through the club, Alex keeping his eyes down again. When they got out to the main room, Michael stopped suddenly. Alex ran into his back and followed his line of sight. Alayna was no where to be seen but Caber was. He talked sweetly to a donor girl as she giggled and flirted, exposing her neck as much as possible. Caber wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked past the security guards out the front door.

“I thought…” Alex started. Guests weren’t supposed to leave with donors. And something told Alex it wasn’t a situation like him and Michael. He looked over him and saw the rage in his eyes. Alex took his hand and he squeezed back. Without looking away from the door, Michael spoke.

“Let’s follow him.”

#malex fic #malex fanfiction #malex #malex vampire au #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #michael guerin/alex manes #michael guerin #alex manes

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cagestark · 4 years

Text

Introduction to Ink//2

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Chapter Four

About this: nff, fem!Tony. College AU. Discussion of past kidnapping.

There’s the eight of them: himself, Nat, Steve, Clint, Thor, Wanda, Bruce, and Toni. Natasha has an incredible firepit, all expensive paving stones and matching brick inlaid into the foundation of the patio. Bucky drags his chair back an extra few feet until he can barely feel the warmth of the flames; he doesn’t care for fire.

Toni is seated across from him, her figure sometimes lost to the flames and shimmering smoke when someone stokes the fire or adds a new log. It’s a mercy and a crime to lose sight of her, her tanned skin glowing orange, the flickering flame enhancing the shadow of her cheekbones and jaw and the modest arch of her breasts. They’d barely be palmfuls to him, easy for him to cup and flick his thumbs over her nipples.

Fucking hell, he thinks, shifting in his seat. Thinking that kind of pornographic bullshit about a girl he’s barely spoken to is perverse at best. To distract himself from the sight of her and the growing tingle in his groin, he reaches for the pack of cigarettes beside his chair and lights one up.

Around the fire, conversation never ceases. Thor, evidence provided by his deep tan, has been on the west coast and brought home with him a collection of stories with each wilder than the last. The group gets a kick out of teasing Toni for her horrified reactions, the collective good-natured laughter of the group drawing his eyes back to her, reluctantly. She flushes each time, gritting her teeth and rolling her eyes.

“Come on, T, your turn to tell a story,” Nat goads, trying to draw the reclusive girl into the conversation. All eyes turn to her. Bucky catches her heavy gaze on him before she looks down at her lap where her hands are clenched tightly together. “You’ve told me some. Tell them about your Uncle Obie—”

“I’d rather not,” Toni mutters dryly.

“Oh, please? Please, please, please?” Natasha slips from her perch on Steve’s lap to kneel dramatically at Toni’s feet, her hands clasped together in beseechment. God, she’s so much fucking looser when she’s drunk. Less Macbethian rigidity and more Midsummer Night’s Dream-esque silliness. Murmurs rise up around the fire as the others chime in, hoping the chip away at the girl’s reserved exterior.

“Isn’t the point of a party to distract yourself from the mundane and unsavory aspects of your life?” Toni wonders, reaching out to pat at Natasha’s hair, red as the flames. (Clint boos, but at least this time Toni’s lips quirk upwards in a smirk. She’s learning to take pleasure in Clint’s disappointment. She’ll fit into their friend group fine, thinks Bucky fondly).

Nat leans up, pressed flush against Toni’s side. She cups a hand around Toni’s ear as if to give them privacy, only she’s cupping it the wrong way, directing the sound of her stage whisper towards the rest of the group when she says: “Isn’t Bucky distracting you enough?”

Bucky drops his cigarette, flinching to wipe it away from where it lands on his jeans before it can burn a hole through them. The circle grows quiet, the sound of the fire as it crackles nearly deafening in the awkward silence. Toni’s gaze flicker to Bucky—an instinct thanks to Natasha saying his name—and those dark eyes grow wide like moons, her entire face flushing with a cocktail of embarrassment and anger. Nat gapes, suddenly aware of her faux pass, but she has no time to remedy it before Toni is standing.

“I’m going to go—get a drink,” she mutters, turning away and disappearing inside the house.

“Damn it,” Nat sighs. Steve reaches out to coax her back into his lap.

“Great one,” Bucky snaps. He reaches down to pick up his cigarette from the patio, tucking it back into his mouth. No use wasting it. “Really. Can we all give Natasha a round of applause, please?”

“Lay off, Buck,” Steve says with a frown. Even in the safe circlet of his arms, Natasha’s frown is heavy.

“I’m sorry, it just came out,” she says. “She’s been staring at you all day.”

“Toni and Bucky?” Sam says, eyebrows high. “I wouldn’t have seen that coming.”

“Not like that you dumbass. She can’t stop looking because she thinks I’m a circus freak,” says Bucky. “And you embarrassed the both of us. Anybody else says another word about it and I’m out of here.”

“Hey,” Clint says fondly, leaning out to lay one of his broad palms on Bucky’s shoulder. With exaggerated coolheadedness, he suggests: “Chill the fuck out.”

While the two of them begin to trade biting comments much to the amused delight of the rest of the circle, Steve presses a comforting kiss to Natasha’s temple and murmurs in her ear, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Natasha turns her head into the side of his neck to hide from the rest of their friends, lets her quirking lips brush against Steve’s skin as she murmurs, “ Nothing .”

The patio door opens. Toni appears, cheeks still a little red, with a beer in her hand. Brave little thing, Bucky thinks to himself watching as she returns to her seat and smoothly uses the metal arm of the patio chair to pop the cap off like some kind of expert. She takes a long sip, resolutely looking into the fire as if she can sense everyone’s eyes on her.

“So,” she says at last. “My Uncle had me kidnapped.”

A long moment of silence.

Then, from Clint: “What the fuck . While you were in the kitchen?”

The group’s drunkenness makes them the perfect audience. There are gasps and exclamations and No fucking way’s! as Toni relays a story that’s dramatic and horrifying and apparently entirely true: how a group of hired men had killed one of Toni’s bodyguards and carried the girl off; how her own father hadn’t been willing to pay the ransom; how she had escaped thanks to her own inventiveness only to be picked up by her Uncle Obie, who instead of driving them home, had driven deeper into nowhere. She’d put the puzzle pieces together and thrown herself from the moving car and spent 8 hours walking through the woods before she’d found civilization and returned home. Apparently Uncle Obie is serving a life sentence in Attica.

“That’s trauma. That’s like, first-class trauma. That’s not carry-on, either. You need to have that trauma luggage checked,” Clint rambles, though everybody is making noises of agreement. “Wait, I’m not the authority on childhood trauma. Wanda?”

“Trauma,” she decides concisely. Her face hasn’t yet returned to its normal color, not since Howard refused to pay the ten-million-dollar ransom.

“Hey,” Toni says, grinning. The bottle she’d brought out from the kitchen is empty now, and since it’s completion, she’s been noticeably looser. Light weight, Bucky thinks, the corners of his lips quirking up around his latest cigarette. “I warned you! Honestly, though, it wasn’t that bad. Not my worst kidnapping by far.”

“Please, no more,” says Wanda.

“No more,” Toni agrees. The two girls’ chairs are close enough that Toni can lean and rest her head on Wanda’s shoulder, the most outgoing and affectionate she’s been all night. Bucky isn’t going to be fucking jealous of Wanda’s bony shoulder.

“Should we break out some glow sticks and play more pong?” Natasha suggests. “I’m losing my buzz.”

Steve makes a face from behind her, probably not eager to see his girlfriend slip back into the verbacious phase of drunkenness, but everyone else promptly agrees, standing to vacate their chairs.

“Dibs on Bucky as my partner!” Clint shouts.

“I’m sitting out,” Bucky says. Everyone boos. “I’ll play the winner, okay?” Everyone cheers.

Natasha’s property is huge, so Bucky lets himself skirt along the edge of the woods, staying within the glow of the fairy lights but walking far enough away that he loses sight of his friends and can only hear their shouts and laughter carried on the wind. It’s become cool enough that he shrugs his jacket back on, his black on black ensemble probably helping him blend into the darkness whenever he steps into the treeline.

Ever since Becca died and Bucky moved upstate to be with his ma, Bucky has been prone to episodes of melancholy. He used to be a party animal when he’d first met Steve and Nat; they’d become thick as thieves partying together and watching out for each other. Now he can’t make it through a party without feeling the urge to wander off and away, to detach himself physically the way he so often feels emotionally. Finding a sturdy tree, he lets himself rest against it, head pressed against the rough bark, eyes closed (though he can see the glow of the lights through his eyelids).

“Oh shit—” There comes the violent cracking of sticks and the sound of a body tumbling. Heart pounding from the sudden shout, it only takes a few steps for him to find Toni on the ground, her skirt in a pool around her slim body, dark hair wreathed in gold from the lights above them. She looks up at him, flushed. “I hate nature. Really. And I’m pretty sure that the feeling is mutual.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky rasps, reaching one of his hands down even though his heart is in his throat. She hesitates at the sight of it before reaching out and tucking her smaller hand into his own and letting him gently pull her up from the ground. “You didn’t twist somethin’ did you?”

“Just my pride. Wait, you said twisted not destroyed.”

“Happens to the best of us. And to Clint, too.”

“Clint more often than others?” she asks. This close, the size difference between them is enough to go to his head and to his gut: she must barely be past five feet tall, slim and willowy and nothing like the girls he usually dates. Then again, he’s probably the last kind of guy she’d ever date. Still, she’s fucking pretty: those dark, big eyes with pinpoints of light in the pupils since she’s got her head tilted up to look at him, her mouth full and wide, chin pointed.

Bucky clears his throat, already having forgotten her question. “What are you doin’ out here?”

Toni sets her jaw. “I came to find you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I—wanted to apologize.”

Bucky blinks. “What for?”

She waves a hand back towards the distant sound of their friends. “For today. I didn’t treat you very, very, god, what’s the word. Does being drunk always feel like this, feel like my brain is scrambled eggs? Anyway, I came off like a real bitch.”

“Nah,” says Bucky, even if it’s a little true. He raises his chin, puts the honeycomb on his neck on display just to watch her eyes be drawn to it, her mouth parting a little. “I’m used to it, kid. Lookin’ the way I do. I understand.”

“That’s not right, though,” Toni is quick to supply. She still has her eyes on his throat. “It’s your body. Obviously. Also I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-two with a doctorate in engineering. I just, I’ve only ever seen one tattoo before. Excluding TV. It was like, this big? Maybe a little smaller. Of a peony, I think, maybe paeonia lactiflora , something in the paeonia family, anyway. I’ve just never seen anyone who looked like you before.”

Bucky doesn’t wince, but it’s a close call. “I get it.”

“You look so—” Bucky prepares himself for some kind of noun or adjective that he’ll have to swallow down like the most bitter medicine, grit his teeth and accept. Based on her expression, she’s still struggling to find the words she wants, her expression open and almost-awed in a way that makes him feel like he’s standing on the ridge of a tree root liable to fall over any moment. “You look like art.”

Whatever Bucky was expecting—it wasn’t that. She means it, too. He can tell. The shell she’s fortified around herself all night has cracked, and inside he can see the embryonic hints of a girl very young (though not nearly as young as he had thought, thank god), whose life until recently has been forcefully closed off and punctuated with moments of real terror. She isn’t horrified. She’s awed. She’s intrigued. She’s curious.

On a whim, Bucky shrugs off his jacket. It’s intoxicating to see her expression change: the eyes widen, the mouth parts, all at the sight of him alone. It’s a heady power that he isn’t used to feeling. But does the power belong to him, or is it simply washing over him? Maybe this slip of a girl is really the one with the power, power that he feels helpless to bend to.

Holding out a hand, he feels something like a princess offering his knuckles for her to kiss. She reaches out on instinct, stopping just shy of his skin to look up in question. The area beneath her slim fingers buzzes like the air before a lightning strike. He nods, willing to be struck.

Fingers with calloused tips brush from his first knuckle down over the letter (H, HATE across his left proximal digits and LOVE across the right ones). He holds his breath, begging his hand not to tremble at her touch as she trails her burning fingers up over the hill of his knuckle and down into the valley where the skin is thin and sensitive.

“I can’t even feel it,” Toni mutters. “Which, I mean, I knew. The ink penetrates all the way down to the dermis to avoid the keratinization process, but it’s just—I thought I would feel it.”

More breathless than he’d like to be: “Not sure what all that means. Sometimes you can feel them, though. When they don’t heal right.”

She looks up at him with wide, glittering eyes. “Is that so?”

Bucky nods. She hums, turning her eyes back to his hand where she runs her fingers over the ivy along the back, mussing the soft thin hairs that grow there. His throat clicks when he swallows, but he doesn’t think she can hear it, not over the screech of the evening insects and not through the trance she seems to be in, turning his hand this way and that way, coaxing it into supination so she can follow the trail of leaves.

She drags the tip of her fingernail gently down the center of his palm and he can’t help but shudder. There’s a dangerous heat blooming in his gut and several inches lower the tell tale feeling of blood rushing south. Thank God his jeans are tight enough to pin his cock close to his body.

“Why nothing here?” she asks, tapping the center of his palm just over his head line.

“They don’t take as well.”

“Thicker skin,” says Toni. “Epithelium on the palms and soles can be three times thicker than your average layer epithelial tissue. That must make it difficult to get to the dermis.”

“You learn that at school?”

“No; I’m at NYU for physics. But I read a lot.” She moves on from his palm, tracing the ivy down his forearm. The skin is so sensitive that he can’t hide the goosebumps that bloom or the way his body shivers. She doesn’t remark on it, but her eyes do flicker up to gauge his expression. Fuck, she must see right through him. He’s got no idea what he looks like, but if it’s anything like how he feels (and his ma always did say that he was an open book), then she knows everything in a single glance. How infatuated he is. How attracted he is.

She shivers. He reaches down to pick up his jacket and offers it to her, the both of them laughing when she slips it on and has to push the sleeves up. It shouldn’t feel so good to see her in his clothes, but it does. Jesus, it does.

With firmness, she guides his arm outward away from his side so that she can see the entire upper portion of the sleeve, the portrait of Strazza’s the Veiled Virgin. The way she moves him, twists him this way and that way has his cock aching. I’d take orders from her all day long , he thinks to himself, wishing he could reach down and adjust himself without drawing attention to his aching hard on. All night, too.

On his right arm, she repeats many of the same gestures, tracing the hills and valleys of his knuckles, examining his pale, unmarked palms, tracing the veins up his forearms, pausing to scratch gently at one of the dotted geometric shapes on his bicep. It’s torture to stand there and feel her touch on him, her eager, intoxicated eyes eating up his skin. You look like art, she had said. Under her hands, he feels like it.

When she runs into the sleeve of his t-shirt, she coaxes it back, trying to follow the trail of a chain. She makes a soft, unhappy sound when she can’t expose any more skin. It makes him swallow on reflex, bicep tightening under her hand as a thought comes to him. He opens his mouth to offer but shuts it again quickly.

“What?” she asks, looking up at the motion in the corner of her eye.

“Nothing.”

“Wh-at?”

“I was just—I’ll take it off for you. If you want to keep looking.”

Her eyes get heavy-lidded, roaming over his face as she searches for something. Somehow, she looks even drunker than she did moments ago when he first found her sprawled out on the ground. Not that he blames her; he hasn’t had a drink since the bonfire began, but he still feels drunk enough without it. Then he realizes why: she isn't drunk, she's turned on. The way she's shifting and can't stand still, thighs pressing together tight. This is turning her on, and that thought is nearly enough to bring him to his knees.

“Okay,” she says. She pokes his shoulder, her aim affected. “I want to see where this one ends.”

Bucky steps back to give himself the room needed to take off his shirt, though Toni seems to sway towards him. Like he’s got a gravitational pull, like she’s fallen too deep into his atmosphere to pull away now. With a shaking breath, he reaches for the neck of the shirt and tugs it off over his head, losing sight of her for just a moment.

She takes him in. His chest isn’t as saturated as his arms are. The honeycomb runs down to his collar bones before the lines begin to break down, reassemble into sheet music. Strict black and white linework that uses his own pale skin as the paper of the page. The chain that led up over his shoulder curves around his back to knot itself around the middle of his backpiece. From the base of his sternum down to the V of his hips, he is bare. Planning something big, he thinks, though he only has half-formed ideas.

Through each of his pale pink nipples are barbells.

“Good God,” Toni mutters under her breath. She places a burning palm on one of his bare shoulders so that she can lean in and remark, “Why would you do that? Didn’t that hurt?”

She’s so close that he can feel her breath fan across his chest. God, to reach out and tangle his fingers in her dark hair and draw her mouth those last six inches, to feel the soft rasp of her tongue over his sensitive nipples. He nearly groans at the thought. His nipples tighten under the attention of her gaze, aching in the best way.

“It all hurt,” Bucky rasps. The bite of the piercing needles, the sting of the tattoo gun—all of it had given him a sense of euphoria. A sense of pride in his body the likes of which he hadn’t had when he was young and insecure. “I guess I liked it anyway.”

She draws her fingers over the lines of his clavicles before turning her hand over so that the soft backs of her fingers trail down one defined pec. Maybe she tries to avoid it, her spatial reasoning fucked thanks to the beers she's had, but her pinky drags over his nipple. He does groan this time, the brief spike of pleasure going straight to his aching cock. One of his own hands drops, almost grabs his erection on instinct before he wills it away, reaching out to grip at a nearby low treebranch.

Toni pulls back like she’s been burned. “Sorry,” she says. “Did that hurt?”

Bucky clears his throat but doesn’t trust his voice. Instead, he shakes his head in the negative. She resumes her teasing touches, asking him to turn this way and that way, giving a delighted laugh at the spinal column tattooed from the nape of his neck down. Anatomically correct, she says. Though some of the cervical vertebrae are missing.

Every word she says goes straight to his cock whether it's about intervertebral disc space or whatever else. With his back to her and her attention on the tattoos there, he lets his hand drop as covertly as possible, rubbing without mercy at his confined cock, desperately willing the thing away. The rough touch nearly brings him to the brink, he’s that fucking close, innervated by every drag of her fingers, every press of her palm, every scratch of her curious fingernails. His head falls back, eyes shut tight against the lights above them, wondering if he can hide cumming in his pants long enough to get back to the house, say goodbye, and scram.

He pulls his hand back just as he feels the firm pressure of her turning him to face her, but this time there is no avoiding it. Her eyes have fallen naturally to the lines of ink peeking just over the waistband of his jeans. But centered in between and six inches lower is a bulge that can’t be disguised as anything but what it is. Bucky winces, reaching up to drag one palm against his forehead. This is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him, and Jesus, when Toni tells Nat about how Bucky coaxed her to feel him up and then popped a stiffie over it, the redhead will kill him.

When Toni speaks, her voice is an octave lower, letting one thumb brush against the flash of ink on his right hip. “Should—I mean...should you take your pants off?”

Bucky blinks. That was the last thing he expected to hear come from her mouth. “I...don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Toni’s face crumples a little. “Right. Sorry. I misread things. My therapist says I struggle with social cues.”

“Hey, that ain’t it,” says Bucky. He doesn’t like that look on her face, that burned, insecure expression. He’ll wipe the expression right off of her even if it means he embarrasses himself further. “It’s just been a long time since—Jesus, Buck, don’t say that. I mean that I’m not really known for my self control, and I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

“I can’t fathom a world right now where I’d regret you taking your pants off.”

“You can’t fathom it right now. But what about later when you sober up, huh?”

Toni rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her thin chest, the picture of childish petulance. “Oh come on. I’m not that drunk. Look, I’m an adult and you’re an adult. I’d really like to—to touch you, and correct me if I'm wrong but you seem like you’re receptive.”

Bucky’s cock supports the idea, twitching towards her. Fucking traitor. He steps back to put distance between them, to stop breathing her in and feeling the heat of her and to maybe clear his fucking head. It’s no wonder if he doesn’t have the oxygen to use his brain when all the blood has gone right to his dick.

“Toni,” he rasps lowly. “Come on, honey. Don’t do me like this. I’m trying to be good here.”

“I like the way you say my name,” she says, taking a step forward to make up for the distance he tries to put between them. Her face is a helpless mix between arousal and innocence: eyes heavy and pupils huge, cheeks flushed, mouth parted. She can’t have any idea what she’s doing to him, what she’s been doing to him since he saw her head ducked over a textbook in the middle of a raging party.

His back hits a tree, the rough bark scratching at his bare skin. He lets his head fall back, working to keep his breathing stable. “Toni. You should go back to the house.”

She pursues him with a single-minded intensity. He feels frozen under her eyes, just one of Medusa’s admirers helpless to look away. She’s so short that when she presses herself flush against him, his cock is nestled against her belly. The pressure makes his head spin even as he presses his hips backward, pinning himself to the tree to keep from grinding against the firmness of her body.

“I don’t have any practice,” she says, placing a palm against his sternum and dragging it down, down, down until it cups his clothed cock, hand looking downright dainty against him. He sees stars behind his eyes, cock jerking beneath her grip even though she is being far too gentle. “But I’m well versed in the theory, and I think you’ll find I’m a quick learner.”

If she thought that would seduce him, she is both right and wrong. A tiny primitive part of his brain revels in confirmation of what he already expected—if she’d barely seen tattoos in person, of course she didn’t have any sexual experience. He would be the first, the one to stain her like ink across her skin. His cock would touch places inside of her that hadn’t ever been touched. There is a darkness in him that would revel in splitting her open, in being the first to make her cum with his fingers and mouth and cock.

But there’s no fucking way he’d ever even voice those thoughts, much less give into them. What kind of a person is he to be aroused by the thought of taking her virginity, of taking advantage of her drunken state and lack of experience?

His fingers wrap all the way around her wrist when he pulls her away. With firmness, bending down so that they are nearly nose to nose, he says: “ No . I’m not that kind of guy. You want me so bad? Come find me when you’re sober.”

Toni staggers away from him, nearly upending herself. Her face is pale, and she looks a little like she’s going to be sick. “Right. You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I know what no means.”

“I know you do,” Bucky says softly. He lets his hand fall, fingertips brushing against the pale skin above his waistband, above his aching cock. Her eyes track the movement, throat bobbing while she swallows. Fuck, that hungry look on her face is almost too much. She’s hungry for it even if she’s never had it, even if she hardly knows what she wants. “You couldn’t take advantage of me if you tried. Trust me. I just—I ain’t gonna take advantage of you neither.”

Her eyes roll. “My hero. Thanks. Can’t believe I’m going back to the party with sticky panties. That’s really uncomfortable, you know.”

Bucky groans. “Don’t tell me nothing about your panties.”

“At least we’re both suffering,” she says with a vindictive smile. She jerks a thumb towards the sound of their friends’ voices just as a cheer rises up, echoed by the angry shouts of someone losing and demanding a rematch. “Are you coming? We can walk back together.”

Shifting, Bucky reaches down and adjusts himself. “I’ll be there as soon as I can walk.”

He watches as she walks away, her hair and dark skirt blending into the darkness until he loses sight of her completely. Bucky lets out a long breath. Is he the stupidest man in the world or the strongest? Maybe both. Turning her down had taken everything in him, and a part of him knew that come morning when she sobered up she would probably avoid his presence, avert her eyes from his gaze, embarrassed of how she had come on to him. To someone like him.

But just then? She had wanted him. Wanted to touch him. Touching him had made her wet. The thought has him groaning. In solitude, he can let one hand drop without guilt to grope as his aching erection. There’s no chance that it will go away on its own, not when his every waking thought is her. There’s only one way to be able to return to the party with some semblance of normality.

Bucky unfastens his belt and then the button of his jeans. He slides the zipper down and his cock bulges free, still covered in his dark boxer-briefs. The head of him has wet the fabric, steady precum leaking from the tip and he presses his thumb against it until the pleasure threatens to slip into pain, his balls throbbing with a load the likes of which will probably set a new personal record for him.

Reaching past the waistband, he draws his cock free. The first touch of the cooling night air has him letting out a noise from low in his throat. Widening his stance as best as he can with his jeans still on, he lets one hand drop down to cup his balls. They’re firm, ready to draw up at a moment’s notice. His fingers wrap around the shaft giving one long, tight stroke. He usually likes lube, but as much as he’s leaking, he can make do without it.

“ Fuck ,” he mutters, eyes rolling in relief.

That’s the moment when Toni comes barreling through the trees again, freezing at the sight of him half-naked with his cock in hand.

#winteriron #fem!tony stark #toni stark #cagewrites

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rocksandrobots · 4 years

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch.29 - Apologies

This is the last of the 'PSA' arc and the last chapter to discuss underage drinking

Varian awoke with his head pounding, his stomach rolling, and a bad taste in his mouth. He brought his hand to his eyes to try and rub the soreness away and to block out the sunlight peeking through his bedroom window. No doubt Hiro and Baymax had brought him home last night, not that he could remember it.

Varian had only experienced a hangover once before in his life. At thirteen, he had wanted to prove himself a man and so had tried to join in with older men of the village during the harvest festival while they made toasts to celebrate the end of a long hard season. His father had been too busy to notice. It had been a fruitless exercise that only brought him shame and sicknesses. As he had laid in bed the next morning, Quirin just gave a weary sigh and said,"I hope you've learned your lesson, son." and then turned away to attend to his duties.

If only he had. What was wrong with him? Oh, why didn't he ever learn?

Varian groaned and dragged himself out of bed, swallowing hard to keep his stomach down. There was no sense hiding away in his room; the sooner he got this over with the better.

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Hiro made his way down the stairs as Baymax hobbled along behind him. He entered the kitchen and then stopped in his tracks. Varian sat at the end of the table nursing his head in his hands as he brooded over a cup of coffee.

Hiro didn't know what to say or do. He didn't want to start another argument and he really didn't want Varian to run off again. So he just ignored the other teen as he went about fixing himself some breakfast.

Hiro felt like he was walking on eggshells as he scurried about. He kept casting wary glances back at the other boy as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, but Varian didn't move nor acknowledge that Hiro was even there.

"You are suffering from dehydration due to the consumption of alcohol." Baymax interrupted the silence. "This is sometimes known as a hangover."

Hiro's eyes widened as he feared another outburst from Varian, but the time displaced teen only gave Baymax annoyed glare but said nothing. So the robot continued, "A glass of water would be more helpful than coffee. Caffeine can increase blood pressure and worsen your headache."

Still the gloomy teen said nothing nor did he make any moves to replace his cup of joe with the more beneficial water. In fact the only indication that Varian had even heard Baymax, was that he looked the robot dead in the eye as he lifted the steaming cup to his lips and took a sip.

Hiro gave an exasperated sigh, sat his bowl of milk and cheerios down, and went to fill a glass of water himself; forcefully setting it down next to Varian, who raised an eyebrow, but still remained silent. Then Hiro recovered his morning meal and sat at the other end of the table to eat.

Several minutes passed while neither boy said anything, and Hiro began to wonder what was even the point in trying. Varian seemed determined to self destruct. No matter how often they tried to help, no matter how seemingly well things got for awhile, no matter how many times Varian would apologize for screwing up, it all came right back around to yet another mishap, another poor decision, another fight.

Hiro tried not to judge too harshly, honest he did, he was no saint himself after all, but the whole thing was becoming tiresome. Then there were the times where Varian wasn't even sorry.

The incident with Momasake's knife sprung to his mind unbidden, along with the ninja's warning words. "People like that don't ever change."

No. Hiro refused to believe that. He himself had changed for the better, so could other people, so too could Varian. He just needed someone to be there for him.

"You were right." Varian's voice broke through his thoughts, startling him.

Hiro looked at the other teen in surprise as Varian pressed on.

"I thought that I could handle things, but turns out I'm just a mess no matter what I do." Varian gave a pout and kept his eyes downcast.

Hiro didn't know what to say to that. He felt like he should give some sort of encouragement, some reassurance that Varian wasn't a mess, but that somehow felt hollow and Varian would know it.

Baymax however did have something to say. "Many adolescents struggle with low self-esteem. Positive reinforcement can help combat this. Try replacing negative thoughts about yourself with compliments instead."

Varian eyed the robot skeptically and even Hiro had to admit he couldn't see that helping all that much in this situation.

"Like what kind of compliments?" Varian asked.

"Recognise your strengths. Varian, you are very smart. You are talented. You are courageous and kind. You have many friends and loved ones who care about you and wish to see you get better."

"Friends?" Varian shot back bitterly and then with tears in his eyes, added, "Not after last night, I'm sure."

"No." Hiro firmly rebutted, "We're still your friends. It's just like Baymax said, we only want for you to get better. Alcohol's just not the right way to cope with what's happened to you."

Varian searched the other teen's eyes, debating on whether or not to believe Hiro's words. He opened his mouth to say something, but then Aunt Cass walked into the kitchen ending the discussion.

She gave the boys a wide smile and kissed Hiro on top of his head. "Good morning! Excited for today?"

Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to the counter and poured herself a cup of the coffee Varian had made. "I thought we could close up shop early today after the morning rush. That way we'd have more time for our family outing. We could go to the park and go bike riding before the movie." She took a sip and walked over to Varian and tenderly ran her fingers through his hair. "How does that sound?" She asked them.

The boys exchanged looks and Varian came to a decision. He swallowed hard, "Aunt Cass… I have something to tell you…about last night."

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

Varian finished recounting the events of the past two days to Aunt Cass. Though he conveniently left out some details involving his arguments with Hiro and the rest of their friends; mainly anything to do with superheroing.

He knew Hiro would appreciate this. The other teen had been sent out of the room by Aunt Cass earlier, but they both knew he was most likely sitting at the bottom of the stairwell listening in anyways.

That didn't seem to matter so much in light of his confession though. Aunt Cass looked on shocked and horrified while Varian told her of the club and the drinking games, only interrupting to ask a clarifying question now and then. Once done with his tale, they sat in uncomfortable silence as Aunt Cass tried to process what was happening.

Suddenly she shouted; "Oh God, I'm an idiot!" startling Varian, as she got up to pace.

"Of course it was a college party! What was I thinking? "Painting party" Pff… And not just any college party, noooo, but a frat party. You were in college once, you know what those are like. And it never once occurred to you that your sixteen year old might want to crash one of those? Of course he would! You would! At sixteen you snuck into a rave!"

She paused in her rant to look out into the middle distance as she contemplated what she had just said.

"How did I wind up being the parent again!?" She yelled to no one in particular before slumping back down in her seat and cradling her head in her hands.

Varian was simply confused by this outburst. He didn't know what a 'rave' was, nor why Aunt Cass would be ashamed of going to one. Also it was his fault for lying and getting drunk, not hers.

Aunt Cass inhaled deeply and moved her hands to cup her mouth and then exhaled slowly as she folded them into fists to rest her chin upon.

"You said Baymax checked you over?" She asked. Varian nodded. "You're not hurt then?" He shook his head.

"Good," she said shakely, "That's good…. Then just what the heck were you thinking!?" She rounded on him.

He recoiled under her glare. Varian still hadn't gotten used to Aunt Cass's stressful mood swings anymore than her lectures. His lip quivered and fresh tears threatened to spill from his eyes but he couldn't formulate the words he needed to. He couldn't explain to her what it was like being the odd man out, a stranger in another world, an outcast from society with a shameful past; to never truly fit in no matter what you did.

"Don't you know you could have gotten hurt!?" She continued,"Didn't you stop to think even just a little that maybe sneaking into a nightclub and downing six shots of tequila might be dangerous?"

"I..I didn't know how strong tequila was." He protested in his defense. "I can normally down a couple beers no problem."

"Wait…This isn't your first time drinking?"

"Well no. Everyone drinks in Corona, it's just not a big deal there. It's like drinking a can of soda."

Aunt Cass eyes darted back and forth in confusion as she realized once again she had taken in a child from another country, another culture, and he wasn't just like Hiro or Tadashi. But she wasn't yet ready to concede the argument. She didn't want Varian thinking it was okay to do this a second time.

"And did you sneak into clubs there too!?" She asked incredulously.

"We don't have those." Varian exasperated. He was starting to become irritated once more. He got up from where he sat and leaned over the table at her. "Look, I get it! I screwed up! Just like always! I promise I won't do it again and I don't need you to remind me that I'm a failure, okay!?"

Varian paused mid-rant as he realized what he had just said. Both he and Aunt Cass exchanged surprised looks before he snapped his jaw shut and fell back into his seat, hugging himself as he was no longer able to hold back the tears.

"Varian…" Aunt Cass softly said as she reached her hand out to him, but he jerked away.

"I know.. that I'm...I'm all messed up." He heavied through sobs. "Okay? I know . And I know you're just trying to help. But..but I just … I just wanted to fit in for once, and not be the freak, or the villian, or the poor little orphan that nobody really wants…" He sniffled and wiped his runny nose. He no doubt looked every bit the mess that he felt he was, but at this point he no longer cared. "I'm the person that everyone either pitys, or hates... or even fears. I'm never allowed to be just normal, and no matter what I do, I just keep getting reminded over and over again that I don't belong! Not anywhere! Not here, not Corona, not with the Saporians...I...I…I just want my dad. That's all I want." he broke down crying again.

Aunt Cass was crying too.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

Varian blinked at her in confusion. Why was she sorry? What had she done wrong? He was the one who was broken, not her.

"I was so sure that things were getting better..." she went on,"No. I wanted things to be better, that I didn't pay enough attention to the warning signs. I should have known what kind of party you were going to, and I should have realized sooner that you weren't happy here. I let you down, and I'm sorry." She sighed, shook her head, and flung open her arms wide in a shrug. "I...I don't know what I'm doing any more than you do. Parenting is just playing things by ear and winging it half the time. Especially since, well, every child is different, and what worked for Hiro and Tadashi might not work for you. But I don't think you're a failure, or a mess; I think you're just a teenager, and you're not the only teenager in the world to crash a party and get drunk, believe me. Look, I don't care if you made a mistake, I care about you being safe and that you know not to do it again." She reached out to him again and cupped his face, and this time he didn't pull away as she wiped his tears. "Varian, I know it's difficult having your life uprooted and that you miss your dad, but I want you to know you are wanted. Okay? We all care about you. I care about you. You're my child and I'm never giving up on you, not ever ."

She was inches from his face as she said this. Her hazel eyes search his own, looking for a sign that she had gotten through to him. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to hold back the fresh tears that came for a now completely different reason. He sobbed, leaned forward, and pressed his forehead against hers. She wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Aunt Cass?" Varian asked over her shoulder, once he felt he could talk again. "I'm sorry. I mean it. I won't drink again. I promise."

She broke their hug only to give him a smile. "I know."

"You..you do?"

"Varian, you're a good kid, and you care about people. I know you don't want to scare anybody and that you didn't mean any harm...and I don't want to make you feel like you ever have to hide that you're upset about something. Come and tell me if something's wrong, or if something is bothering you. I'll listen. I promise."

"P..promise?" He looked at her questionly, hesitant to trust another adult again.

"Promise."

"Then..then can I not get any more lectures?" He blurted out. "I know when I did something wrong, I don't need to hear it repeated back to me."

Aunt Cass frowned and tilted her head, "Then... what do you suggest?" She asked slowly.

"I...I don't know." He hung his head. "I just feel like I'm being put on trial all over again. That was the worst." He added under his breath.

Aunt Cass blinked as it dawned on her what the real problem was. "Oookaay… I'll try and keep that in mind in the future. How about for now… you're grounded for a week. How's that?"

"Grounded? That's when you don't leave the house, right?"

"Sort of, you'll still go to school, but no more parties. I would also add extra chores, but you tend to do those anyways without me even asking."

Varian smiled for the first time that day. "Does that mean no family outing?" He teased.

Aunt Cass laughed, "Yeah, you're not getting out that easily. You're a part of this family now, and don't ever forget it." She kissed his forehead and stood up."Now go shower and get ready for the day, and let Hiro know we'll be leaving soon. I think a day off will do everybody some good."

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

Varian trudged up the steps of the sorority house. He made it to the front door and then cast a concerned glance back towards the car.

He had told Aunt Cass that he wanted to come clean to Carol about last night. His aunt agreed that that would be best and so had driven him out to the SFAI campus.

However that didn't stop his stomach from tying itself up in knots. The pretty girl probably wouldn't want anything to do with him once she knew the truth. Yet he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyways.

He heard footsteps barreling through the house and a familiar voice yelling "I'll get it!". The door flung open wide and there stood Carol, out of breath but with a huge grin on her face. She was clearly glad to see him, though for how long Varian didn't know.

"Oh hey, Varian! I didn't expect to see you today." She subconsciously patted the side of her head. She had her usual curls wrapped up in a scarf, and had been in the middle of some sort of hair care treatment that she dropped once he had arrived. "You..you wanna come in?" She offered.

"I'm afraid I can't." He declined. "I'm with my aunt right now and we're about to go on that 'family outing' I told you about." He pointed back to the car, and Carol's smile only became wider as she waved to its occupants.

"Is the other kid your little brother or cousin?" She asked in her usual friendly manner.

"Uuuuh… sort...of..." Varian didn't have an answer on hand that didn't require a long explanation, so he hurried onto the reason why he was here. "It's a long story, but that's not why I'm here. " He took another steading breath and looked her firmly in the eye. "Carol, I haven't been honest with you, and I'm sorry."

Her smile promptly fell away from her face. "You mean you lied to me? About what?"

"I shouldn't have been at that club. I'm only sixteen."

Carol blinked in confusion. "You mean you're still in high school?"

"Well no; I really am in college and I did just move here from Europe. That's all true, it's just, I got admitted into SFIT early."

Carol made a face as if disgusted by the truth. "You mean I've been hitting on a sixteen year old this whole time?"

Now it was Varian's turn to be confused. "You never struck me?"

"No, 'hitting on', it means flirting."

Varian's spirit picked up, "You mean you were flirting with me?"

"Well now I'm not." She said incredulously and Varian's face fell as his hopes were dashed.

"That..that's fair." He nodded his head and started to walk away. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just didn't think it was a big deal at first, and by the time that it was, well, I just …. I'm sorry."

"Wait." Carol called out. He stopped and watched her as she struggled to find the words she was looking for. "Look...I can't get too mad at you. You ain't the only person that snuck in that club last night."

Varian began to regain hope and walked back over to her as she continued. "Mind you, I just turned nineteen so that's a bit different than being the same age as an eleventh grader, but it's... still not on the up and up. Also if I've gotten a chance at your age to crash a college party I would have, no questions asked, hands down."

She gave him a small sheepish smile and he returned it. Then he rubbed the back of his head as he steeled his courage to ask her another question.

"I.. I won't be able to go clubbing or attend another frat party again anytime soon, and I know you probably don't want to date after what just happened, but...would you still like to be friends?"

Carol tilted her head and studied him a moment thoughtfully. "Friends? You mean like the kind that you can call on for help or just to talk to sometimes?" She asked, recalling their conversation from last night.

"Yeah, and maybe hang out once in a while; just no alcohol this time. I made a promise to Aunt Cass." He gave an awkward laugh and Carol couldn't suppress her smile.

"Yeah, friends sound nice." She agreed and they shook hands before parting.

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

Monday morning rolled around and Varian stood outside the communal lab waiting. His palms were sweaty and he couldn't stop himself from shaking nervously.

Hiro had gathered everyone together to hear Varian's apology, but Varian feared it wouldn't be enough. The sight of everyone walking away from him replayed in his mind over and over again. Why should they forgive him? He had made an ass out of himself once again and worse he had hurt Gogo. He hadn't meant to, but that didn't change the fact that he did. They had given him so many chances already and there was no reason for them to keep on giving him more.

He gulped as Hiro opened the door to let him in. The rest of the gang sat in a semi-circle waiting to hear what Varian had to say. Only he didn't have any words. He opened his mouth to say, 'I'm sorry,' but nothing came out. So he clamped his jaw shut and fought back his tears as he cast his eyes down to the ground.

"Hiro says you told Aunt Cass what happened." Wasabi said. His arms were crossed and his voice was serious but he didn't launch into an angry rant at least.

Varian nodded his head yes.

"And did you promise her not to go out drinking again?" Wasabi pressed.

Varian nodded again.

"Good." Came his reply and he walked over to Varian and pointed his finger in his face. "Cause if I catch my best friend doing something so stupid again, I'm going to have to have a nervous breakdown and your going to have to be the one to hold the paper bag that breath into, okay." He then flashed Varian a grin to show that he was only half way joking.

Varian gave him a half smile, half pout. "I'm sorry," he sobbed as Wasabi laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hey we're just glad you're safe." Fred said as he made his way over to give Varian a hug.

Honey Lemon got up and did the same. "Promise us you won't do something so dangerous again."

If she had asked for the moon with such pleading eyes, Varian would have started building a rocket right then and there. Yet, he knew that he would never be able to keep such an oath; given what a disaster he was. He swallowed hard and tried to come up with an easier promise. "I promise; no more dance clubs, no more drinking, and no more lying about my age."

This seemed to placate her and everyone else in the room, save for Gogo. While everyone was gathered around he looked over their shoulders to see her still glaring at him. He gently pushed past Honey Lemon and stepped towards the other girl.

"Gogo..I'm…" He made to say sorry, but she interrupted him by holding her hand up. Gogo then stood up, gave him a shake of her head and another disapproving look, before walking out the door.

Varian felt his heart shatter on the floor as the door firmly slammed shut.

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

Varian felt riddled with anxiety all day. He barely was able to concentrate on his calculus quiz and his class in applied computer science was a blur. He couldn't focus on his portal either. Guilt pricked his mind and he knew he wouldn't be able to get anything done until he tried to mend things with Gogo once more.

He found her in the welding workshop. She was busy soldering the joints of a bicycle together. He walked up to her, careful not to get in the way of sparks flying off the blow torch, and patiently waited for her to finish or come to a stopping point.

However, Gogo only seemed determined to ignore him. Once done with her welding, she flung up the flap of protective visor, turned on her heel, and deliberately walked over to the tool station to find another piece of equipment. She then made a show of her search, refusing to spare Varian even a glance.

Varian didn't blame her for being angry, nor did he believe she would forgive him at this point, but she deserved to hear a full apology from him and he was determined to give it.

"Gogo?" Failing to get her attention he pressed on anyways. "Gogo, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, and I'm sorry that I broke my promise; but most of all I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn't mean to. It was an accident, but I still did it and I.. I'll understand if sorry isn't enough...I just wanted to let you know that I am."

Gogo paused and in what she was doing but she still wouldn't turn around or look at him. He waited a few moments more for a response before tearing himself away. However he stopped at the door at the sound of Gogo's voice.

"You think that's why I'm mad?" She asked quietly.

"Well, isn't?" Varian was confused. He thought he had covered all that he did wrong in his apology. What had he missed?

Gogo tore off the visor she wore and threw on the table. She then gave a long frustrated sigh as she ran both her hands through her hair before cradling the nape of her neck in her hands and giving an exasperated look towards the ceiling. Then she dropped her arms and finally turned around to face him.

"First, there was the flood in the communal lab. Then you got arrested for 'bot fighting and ran away. Not to mention that you decided to just walk into the middle of the desert with no thought as to how that might not end well. Oh and let's talk about how you tried to fight a highly trained assassin with nothing but a frying pan!"

"B-baking pan." Varian nervously corrected and then he joked, "A frying pan may have stood a better change of workin-…."

The enraged look on Gogo's face put an end to his attempts at levity. He then cringed as she started in on him again.

"And there you were sneaking into a nightclub with a bunch of strangers and making yourself sick with alcohol. It's like you don't stop to think. You're so damn sure of yourself all the time that you never consider how things can go wrong, how you could get hurt." She blinked back tears. "I already lost someone once because they wouldn't stop. I.. I don't want to lose anybody else."

Varian's breath stilled as he realized who Gogo was really talking about. She hugged herself as the tears came unbidden.

"You..you don't know what it's like to get left behind, do you?" She asked. "It hurts to see someone you care about rush head first into something dangerous, okay, and you have people who care about you now. This isn't Corona, you're not alone any more, but that also means you need to think about them too before you go off and do something stupid!"

She sobbed and slumped to the ground to cry.

It was disconcerting to see the normally composed Gogo break down into tears. It was even more upsetting to know that he was the cause of them. Well, not just him, but him and Tadashi rather, and not for the first time Varian felt as if he was living under the deceased teen's shadow.

He sighed and walked over to the girl and sat down beside her. He didn't know what to say or do to make things better so he just remained by her side as she cried.

After a time she choked back her tears and said, "You're not ever going to stop, are you." It was a statement not a question.

"I don't know how to stop." He despaired.

She hugged herself once more and refused to look him in the eyes.

"Look you're right, I don't think about what may happen to me when I do things." He confessed, "But it's not because I don't care about everyone else; it's just… I guess… I'm just not used to having people looking out for me, and I don't know how to handle that sometimes. I was always either the one fighting on my own or the one looking out for others, and half the time I'm afraid everyone is going to figure out what a disaster I am and leave." It was now his turn to choke back sobs. "Leave me all alone just like before, just like everyone else has done.. I..."

Gogo finally looked at him and pouted. Then she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Well, good thing we knew you were a disaster the moment you tried to smoke bomb the cops then." She gently teased.

Varian couldn't help but snicker while blinking back his tears and he too leaned his head against her own.

"Soooo...are we...are we still friends then?" He asked.

"Of course we are, you idiot." She replied in exasperation and snuggled closer. "And don't you ever forget it, cause next time you do something dumb like that I'm kicking your butt."

Varian nodded his head, "Yeah, sounds fair." And they both broke down laughing.

#varian #Hiro Hamada #GoGo #aunt cass #big hero 6 #BH6 the series #tangled #tanged the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #crossover

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madpanda75 · 5 years

Text

“Taking Chances Part 5: Busted”

Find out what happens when Sonny walks in on the reader and Rafael mid-coitus...cause what could be more embarrassing 😳 Also you’ll get some of Sonny’s perspective in this chapter.

Thanks for all the amazing feedback! If anyone wants to be added to my tag list, let me know ❤️

Sonny whistled a tune as he walked down the hallway towards your apartment. The law book. The pancakes. It was all a ruse. You had been avoiding your big brother for weeks. Further confirmed by the fact that you didn’t respond to his text the night before. Something was off and Sonny wanted to find out what it was.

Did he feel guilty about checking up on you? Of course he did, but you were his baby sister. It was only natural for him to be worried and he actually did leave his immigration law book at your apartment. So technically, he did have a valid reason for stopping by. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

While walking Sonny bumped into your neighbors just as they were leaving their home. “Hey...uh…Sandra and Tom, right? It’s Sonny Carisi. I’m just stoppin’ by to check on Y/N.”

Sandra scoffed and shook her head. “Hope you brought your ear plugs.”

Sonny knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “Ear plugs?”

“Good luck, pal.” Tom patted Sonny on the shoulder and left to catch up with his wife.

Sonny glanced between your neighbors and the front door of your home. He could hear the faint sound of music playing inside. Taking out his spare key, he opened your door and stepped inside. “Hello?” He called out, but there was no answer. Sonny assumed you were painting. You always played music whenever you were working on a piece, completely lost in your own creative little universe.

As he headed down the foyer, a wave of relief washed over him. Everything was fine. You were probably busy with the gallery and your art. He was just overreacting. Working at SVU, it was hard not to assume the worst. Unfortunately, the detective was reminded of what happened to people who make assumptions when he turned the corner.

Sonny froze in his tracks, shocked at the scene he was witnessing. There you were laying on a table with your back arched, moaning loudly while a dark-haired man’s head was between your legs. His sweet precious baby sister who would beg him to play Pretty Pretty Princess over and over again; who used to sing in the youth choir at St. Thomas. The teeniest feather could’ve knocked him over in that moment.

“Y/N?!” He exclaimed.

Upon hearing your name, you turned your head. “Sonny!” You screamed and immediately tried to cover yourself.

Sonny was horrified. It was like witnessing a car crash. The most horrific carnage-filled car crash. He silently prayed to God for a sudden bout of hysterical blindness. Although even with his eyes shut, the images he had just seen would forever be seared into his brain. He was going to need trauma counseling and wondered if perhaps his boss’s therapist was available.

Just when Sonny thought it couldn’t get any worse, the head of a certain sharp-tongue, sassy, snarky ADA popped up like some sick version of Whack-A-Mole. The man in question looked almost as stunned as the blue-eyed detective. “Carisi,” Rafael softly said and wiped his chin and lips—which were coated in your arousal.

When Sonny saw Rafael, everything suddenly clicked into place—the recent tardiness, the perfume. It was you. You were the mysterious hook-up the squad had been teasing Rafael about. Sonny choked back the bile rising in his throat and then he saw red. Fury flashed before his eyes. His fists shook with rage. Never in his life had he wanted to hit someone so much as he did right then. “RAFAEL?!” He boomed and dropped his bag of groceries. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?!”

You hopped off the table, quickly picking Rafael’s sweater up off the floor and putting it on.“Sonny?! Get OUT!” You shouted in a shrill voice and stomped your foot like a petulant child.

“Seriously, Y/N?! On Nonna’s table!” Sonny ran a hand through his hair, his eyes were wild.

Rafael cautiously took a step closer, not wanting you to catch all the heat from your big brother. After all it took two to tango and to be fair, he could understand why Carisi was upset. This certainly was not what Rafael had in mind when he wanted to break the news that you and him were dating. “Carisi, I can explain,” he calmly said.

“Explain my ass.” Sonny marched up to Rafael and got right in his face, prodding the ADA in the chest. “That’s my baby sister you’re defiling on a family heirloom,” he growled.

You moved in between the two men, recognizing by the tone in his voice that Rafael was seconds away from getting punched in the face by your brother. “Sonny, calm down.”

“And you!” Sonny looked you up and down while shaking his head in disapproval. “Is this why you’ve been so busy? Cause you’re more interested in fucking some guy than spending time with your own family?”

You drew a sharp intake of breath at his harsh words. Your brother had never spoken to you like that before. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the floor to swallow you up whole.

Rafael saw the hurt in your eyes and something inside him snapped. Before his brain could even process what his body was doing, he pulled his fist back and punched Sonny square in the nose.

“Oh my God!” You stood there with your jaw dropped open, completely stunned—at Sonny, at Rafael, and at Rafael’s fist colliding with Sonny’s face.

Sonny doubled over and pinched the bridge of his nose, tears welling up in his eyes. “My nose!”

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that,” Rafael snarled and clutched his fist, trying to flex his fingers, his knuckles red and swollen. “Fuck, my hand!”

The two men groaned in excruciating pain. You glanced between them, not entirely sure who to go to first, your boyfriend or your brother. “Wow, Ma was right,” you mumbled to yourself. “Men really are just overgrown children.”

Sonny glared at Rafael, his nose bleeding profusely and began to lunge at him with his fist in the air ready to counter-attack. Thankfully, you were prepared this time and jumped in between them both with your arms outstretched, palms pressing against each of their chests as you pushed them off each other.

“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!” You turned and pointed to Rafael. “You sit DOWN and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Rafael immediately followed your orders, kind of turned on by your dominant side shining through, but now was not the time to tell you that.

You then turned to your brother. “You. Bathroom. NOW!” Sonny wouldn’t budge, muttering to himself in Italian as he tried to wipe the blood off his nose. “NOW!” You smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! Ok, I’m goin’! I’m goin!’” He held his hands up in surrender and headed down the hallway.

“Put those long limbs of yours to good use and walk a little faster then!” You said, hot on his heels.

Rafael could hear you both bickering all the way to the bathroom, your normally non-existent Staten Island accent coming out in full force. It was strange. He had never really noticed a family resemblance between you and Sonny until now.

*****

Sonny sat on the edge of your tub, nursing his swollen, tender nose. To stop the bleeding, you split a tampon in half and shoved each part up his nostrils. It wasn’t broken, but bruising was already beginning to form. He was gonna have a great time trying to explain two black eyes and a bashed-in nose to the squad on Monday morning. Who knew Rafael had such a killer right hook?

You walked into the bathroom—now dressed in your own clothes—and silently handed him a bag of frozen corn. In order to keep the peace, you had to put Sonny and Rafael in timeout. If it worked for your nieces and nephews, it would certainly work for your brother and your boyfriend.

“Thanks,” he muttered and held the frozen vegetables up to his face, wincing in pain. “Where’s Barba?”

“Still sitting at the table with his hand under a bag of frozen peas. You both owe me for groceries by the way.” You stood there, studying the tiled floor in silence before clearing your throat. “I better go check on Rafael.”

Just as you were about to leave, Sonny took hold of your hand. “Y/N, wait a sec, will ya’?”

You pulled out of his grasp and turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What is it?”

Sonny sighed and looked up at you with black eyes and a bloody nose. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shoulda’ never said that. It’s just when I saw you and Barba. I freaked out. Please forgive me.”

You mulled over his apology for a moment, worrying your bottom lip. “I forgive you,” you replied before punching him hard in the left shoulder. Rafael had nothing on you. Over the years, your brother had done a stellar job teaching you how to fight. You may have been the creative, sensitive artist, but you could also quit your day job and become an MMA cage fighter if you wanted to.

“Ow! Jeezus!” He hissed in pain. “What was that for? I said I was sorry!”

“Rafael got a hit in and now it’s my turn.” You clutched your brother by the collar. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again or I’ll do worse. I’m a grown-ass woman and this is my home. My boyfriend can eat me out cafeteria-style and make me cum until I scream if I want him to!”

“Oh God! I didn’t need to hear that! Please do me a favor. Take somethin’ sharp and pointy and gouge out my eyeballs and puncture my eardrums, will ya’? Haven’t I been punished enough?” He groaned.

“For barging into my home and embarrassing me in front of Rafael? No, you haven’t.” You let go of Sonny’s shirt and sat down next to him, taking the bag of frozen corn and bringing it back up to his face. Your expression softened a bit. You loved Sonny with all your heart. His recent outburst aside, he was the best big brother a girl could ask for. “I shoulda never given you a spare key.”

“How did you two even meet?” He asked.

You shrugged. “He stopped by the gallery one day and then I ran into him again that night you and I were supposed to get dinner. The rest is history.” You softly smiled, thinking back to that first embarrassing encounter with Rafael and everything that followed. That first drink. That first kiss. Reflecting back on this past month, you realized that slowly but surely Rafael had changed your life for the better. “Guess you kinda had a part to play in all this. If it wasn’t for you cancelling on me. We may have never gotten together.”

Sonny pushed your hand away from his face. “Don’t say that. I don’t want to be responsible for this.” He sadly shook his head and got up. “I better get goin’.”

“Sonny, wait!” You followed him out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

He ignored you, tossing the bag of frozen corn on the table where Rafael was still sitting, flipping through Sonny’s immigration law book.

“Here’s your book,” Rafael said, handing it over.

“Thanks,” he sneered and snatched the book out of Rafael’s hands before heading to the door.

“Carisi!” Rafael called out.

Sonny whipped around to find the ADA right behind him. “What?”

“You have a tampon up your nose,” Rafael coldly replied.

Sonny’s cheeks turned bright red. He pulled the tampon out of his nostrils and tossed it on the ground before leaving.

You flinched when you heard the door slam and crept up beside Rafael. Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed the top of your head and sighed. “I hate to say it, but I knew we should’ve told him earlier.”

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @melsquared79 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier @amirightcounselor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @graniairish @ashley-chi @imjustreallynosy @lolacolaempath

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #barba #barba fanfic #barba fic #barba x reader #law and order svu imagine #barba imagine #rafael barba fan fiction #law and order svu fic #taking chances

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 4 years

Text

Writer’s Review Tag

tagged by @muse-of-nightmares to do a tag she came up with, which is pretty awesome. Honestly I’ve been toying with doing something similar.

Rules: Post two snippets of your writing. The first should be one of the oldest examples of your work that you can find (the older the better!), and the other has to be an excerpt from something more recent. Compare the two side by side to see the difference between what your writing looks like now and how it did then.

tagging @galadrieljones @lechatrouge673 @idrelle-miocovani @thevikingwoman @ma-sulevin

onto exposing myself

Originally I was just going to share the first chapter of my first fic in fandom, but I can offer you even older original fiction.I thought most of this story got lost in my last computer (RIP) but I found some pieces on my flash drive. A lot of it is horrifying but some of it is just mediocre. Here’s a snippet from what 18 year old me thought was going to be a part of the next great American novel (featuring 2 characters from England. Rowan is an actor and Ophelie is a writer who wrote a play Rowan starred in. though at this point Ophelie is still writing it. Also they were childhood lovers till he packed up and left for America, how Wuthering Heights of Rowan. Also, this takes place during WWII.)

And then, she thought she could take it no longer. “Why did you leave me?” She asked in a breathless murmur. “Why did you ever want to leave me?”

“What?” He said, but he heard her. Oh, he heard her, he was only stalling so he could think of a response.

“Why did you leave me? I loved you Rowan Hartley. I would have given everything for you. And you left me. I can still feel the pain after these years. I can still remember waking up and trying to find you, then realizing you weren’t there.”

“Ophelie, I didn’t do it to hurt you. I didn’t do it because I didn’t love you. I wish you knew how much I did.”

“All evidence is toward the contrary.”

“I did it because I wasn’t worthy for you!”

She could feel the fresh tears. “No. You were afraid of what you were feeling. That’s why you left. You didn’t know what would happen if you would have stayed, so you left me.

“Maybe I left you because I started to wonder what would happen if I stayed. Maybe you would have changed your mind again and decided you didn’t really love me.”

She bit the inside of her mouth so hard she tasted blood. “I wouldn’t have changed my mind again. Ever. I wrote you a letter Rowan, you never got it, but I wrote a letter. For all intents and purposes I was pledging myself to you, and asking for you to have me again. But you never got it.”

“That’s your answer to everything is it? To write it out? And if you loved me so much, then why didn’t you find me?” He demanded. “You knew where I was going. You could have tried to find me if you loved me so much.”

(cut plot related dialogue for brevity)

“Let’s forget about the past. Let’s just work together to make something wonderful. And when it is I promise I will bring you from backstage and tell everyone in the audience, and all of the critics how you were the one that wrote this,” Rowan said.

She nodded, after a while. “Alright.” She murmured. “I’m sorry I brought…that up.”

“It’s alright.” He said, his hands still on her. “Do you think we can forget this ever happened, and forget about the past?”

“I don’t think I can forget the past.” She admitted.

In her eyes, there were tears. He wanted to wipe them away.

“I don’t think I can either.” He admitted as well. “I don’t think there has ever been a day that passed were I didn’t think of you.” And then he kissed her on the cheek.

It was only supposed to be a gentle sign of friendship, it was only to set them at ease again, so they could work. But Rowan was lying to himself. As soon as his lips touched her cheek she could hold it no longer. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.

And here’s something from this August, my DA modern AU. Light spoilers but after fake dating for a bit so Cullen could have a plus one for his family reunion, he asked her to marry him so he could protect her under the Inquisition. (long story, it’s just relevant she said yes and now they’re talking about their wedding and their plans after.)

“Would you like to indulge in… after wedding activities?”

She looked at him with a mixture of bemusement and pure joy, if that was even possible. Then she laughed and laughed, grabbing and linking their arms together.

“I thought my sexual attraction was obvious.,” she said, still chuckling.

“It is?”

She laughed again and reminded him about the two times they danced, and every little touch she initiated with him. He put the pieces together, along with the fact that she did say yes to his question of marriage, along with the fact that yes, she wasn’t afraid of touching him, and then je supposed he was one of the stupidest men in Thedas.

“I like verbal confirmation,” he defended.

“Do you want me?”

The question burned. He had been so concerned with her, caught up in the “standard” of what wedding nights and honeymoons usual entailed that he didn’t think of what he wanted.

But he realized it was never a question. She unlocked something in him, set a spark that was now a fire. He wanted.

“Every time I see you, every time we touch,” he told her, “I feel…”

She waited. He saw his want as a fire, but could not bring that fire to a spark. He settled on “interesting.”

“Interesting?” She repeated, mildly amused. “Cullen.”

“I want to discover every little piece of you,” he said, damn it all if it was too much. “I want you in my arms…all the time, except sometimes we have clothes on but most of the times we don’t…”

Want continued to burn. He never really felt it like his before. He had small instances of infatuation in his time, the only notable one being Neria when he still lived in the Circle at Kinloch. He imagined himself taking her to a field of flowers, holding her hand and kissing her. Boyish fantasies, but ones that were his. Yes, sometimes he thought lewder things, but the shame of it all—she was one of his charges—prevented any daydreams from growing wilder.

His daydreamed wildly about Lydia. He was on fire at night when she stirred next to him, and he imagined what she would feel like sans clothes with bodies pressed together, imagined what she would taste like, and what she would say if he kissed her everywhere. He touched himself previously of course, though he hadn’t since he was home, but if there ever was a time where he wanted…

He didn’t. He waited, leaving himself cold at night, though still burning. It was torture.

Well. Judging by her conversation, he wasn’t going to have to wait for long.

“I wonder when you’ll kiss me,” Lydia muttered, and Cullen sensed her fire, burning brightly as his.

“You know,” he saw fit to point out, “you can just as easily kiss me.”

“True enough.”

He waited. He fully expected it then, but she indulged him with only the briefest of kisses against the corner of his mouth, but not his quite mouth. He tried not to completely sink into the earth, too defeated. The feeling of her lips however, though too brief, was divine.

“Today,” she said, a delicate and smooth finger caressing the line of his jaw, “you’ve satisfied me by saying you want us together naked, eventually anyway. I can wait.”

She kissed his cheek before propping him up so his mother could see his new battle scar.

Analysis: It’s the theatre in me, I like to tell stories through dialogue. In fact, I remember starting my red dead fic with the intent of improving my storytelling without so much of it, as I really wanted to focus on description. (Another story because there’s still a lot of dialogue in that fic, lol.) But I picked these two dialogues to talk about together because I have since learned dialogue scenes should be a gradual unraveling. It’s more apparent in the second scene, where the build is gradual. there’s also description and thoughts mixed in more tactfully, with the first scene escalating with no build. And sometimes that happens in real life, but I feel the dialogue isn’t as natural. I think though it is important to mention that the first scene is a drama while the second is more romantic comedy, which even veers to the screwball romantic comedy territory.

let’s not even get started on much better my smut is now.

#oh god #please dont laugh lol #i was so stuck on rowan and ophelie #or Rophelie #but alas I think the story wasn't meant to be #I have a new fresh OTP I'm developing no #*now #hope to see them in writing soon

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duker42 · 5 years

Note

Hi there! Could I request a smut where Levi is force to have sex with a special blood line reader? B/C Levi is an ackerman, conceiving a baby with this reader (a special blood line you can make up lol) can initially save humanity. He refuses to at first, but eventually gives in. She's a virgin and he has him to control himself in order not to hurt her. If you can add a scene where she kneels down to give her first BJ would be amazing as well. Thank you, I love your writings!

You know Anon....I had already planned a multi chapter story on this....but couldn’t resist this one shot

*****WARNING*****NSFW

💜BloodLine💜

“So you are telling me I have to sleep with Y/N because she is another royal?” Levi asked, his expression dark as he leveled a glare at Historia and Erwin.

Hanji interjected and tried to make Levi see where the monarch was coming from, ordering him to father a child. “Levi....the research indicates that any child born between an Ackerman and the Reiss family would be immune from the Curse of Ymir. It would be able to control the Founding Titan and the others without any of the risk of being bound to the First King’s Will due to the Ackerman blood.”

“What about Mik-“ He started, only to have Erwin cut him off with a shake of his head.

“There are no more male Reiss family members, Levi. You and Y/N are it. Unless you would prefer Historia.” Erwin said, looking back at the petite Queen.

Levi gave a horrified look. “Hell no! She’s too damn young!” He turned and paced the meeting room. “This is crazy....batshit crazy. Every one of you.”

He leveled another look at Historia. “And you.....ordering me to do this. I should tell you to go fuck yourself.” He glowered.

Erwin turned to Historia with a wry grin. “He’s accepted it. He always gets snarky when he’s agreeing without saying it.”

~~~~~

They had been shipped out to that infamous cabin in the woods that the Levi Squad had taken refuge in when they were on the run from the Interior Police. Y/N thought it was ironic that the placed where one royal family member’s existence was confirmed would be the conception of another’s.

She was another bastard of Rod Reiss’s, but she had known it far longer than Historia. She hadn’t been the daughter of a mistress, but of a whore that Rod had kept in the Capitol. When he had found out she was pregnant, he had returned her to the brothel and disappeared from her mother’s life. Wanting no part of the asshole who sired her, she had rejected the notion of becoming Queen. She was a Scout, not a royal in her mind.

Except that same half-sister had just ordered her older sister to sleep with Captain Levi and produce a child. She shuddered....of all people, it had to be the most unapproachable man in the entirety of Humanity.

They had worked around each other for years. She had always been on another squad, until she had become Squad Leader in her own right. She had spent many hours in meetings with the man, but truly knew him very little. And now she was supposed to give him her virginity.

They had been well supplied by the group that had accompanied them to the cabin, apparently setting the mood took Hanji, Moblit and half the damn Scouts. Maybe they just wanted to say they had a part in a portion of history being made. Confirmation Captain Levi got laid.

She snickered to herself at her little joke, causing the man in question to throw her a questioning look. They had been sitting in uncomfortable silence for hours after Hanji had shooed everyone out and told them to have fun while wiggling her eyebrows.

“You hungry?” She looked over at Levi where he was watching her.

“Not in the slightest.” She answered.

He sighed, he sucked at situations like these. He wasn’t suave or charming like Erwin. He was blunt so he might as well not change that, they had been ordered to fuck so it wasn’t like she could really change her mind.

“Go get ready, Y/N. I’m going to make sure the horses are secure for the night.” Levi said, finishing his tea and getting up from the table.

Y/N blushed. She had the lingerie that Hanji had shoved into her bag and told her to wear. She said it would “help little Levi grow”, making Y/N speechless at the idea. It wasn’t that the Captain was unattractive, Gods no, he was very handsome in her opinion. It was that there was nothing between them, so she was sure that very little pleasure would come from them.

It made her wish she had given her virginity away sooner. Experience the joy of having sex because the need was there, the passion between two people. Rather than the cold written orders.

She washed and changed into the indecent scraps of lace that covered little more than her nipples with solid material. The rest was practically see through, the white lace nothing more than scantily covering her form.

Levi stood at the door, wanting nothing more than to pound his head against it. He was supposed to go in that bedroom and fill Y/N with his seed over and over again until she was pregnant with his child. He hadn’t spilled himself in a woman in years to prevent just that occurrence.

He had given her enough time as he locked up the cabin and went to wash. He opted to just pull on a pair of boxers, since he knew that they would soon be discarded. He knew that she was a virgin, Hanji informing him of that fact. That had pissed him off even further. He had never had a virgin, never wanting to deal with the hysterics that would come with it.

When he entered, she turned and faced him. He had to give it to Four-Eyes, she had damn good taste in lingerie. The white lace nightgown was small and transparent, giving him an enticing view of her shapely legs and dusky nipples. He couldn’t deny that Y/N was fucking gorgeous, her body trim from years of being a soldier.

He knew that he was going to have to take charge, show her what to do. Despite it being an order for mere procreation, he wasn’t such a heartless bastard that he was going to plant his seed without showing her some of the pleasures of sex.

He stood in the middle of the room and beckoned her to come to him. She did, her eyes nervous as she tried to put on a brave face. Levi reached for her shoulder as he spoke, his voice deep and calm. “Relax, Y/N. I’m going to make sure you enjoy it as much as possible.”

He started with a kiss. The simple melding of their mouths, but Levi relaxing into it when he found that the taste of her was satisfying. He let his tongue roam her lips until she opened them and pressed inside, mimicking the action to come later. She had put her hands on his shoulders and he liked the warm feel of her skin on his.

“I know you’re a virgin, Y/N. Have you ever even seen a man’s cock?” He asked, pulling away.

She nodded, and looked down where he was starting to become interested in the idea. She looked back up with a question in her eyes and he nodded, giving her permission to explore as he waited to see what she would do.

Her hands never left him, running down his chest as she took a step back and sank down to her knees in front of him. His breathing quickened as her fingers reached the waistband of his boxers and curled under the edge. She was an alluring sight with her eyes watching him.

She pulled his boxers down, pulling back a bit as his cock bounced from being half erect and the material being caught on it. It was starting to get hard, but wasn’t fully there as she inspected him intently.

Y/N saw the blunt tip, the lengthiness of his shaft as it seemed to grow right in front of her. There was a large vein under it, showing prominently as it curved up towards his stomach. There was a pair of large hanging sacs beneath it, round and full. Y/N knew that was where the seed for her child was going to come from.

She felt heat pool between her thighs, an uncomfortable rush of yearning in the base of her stomach as she moved her hands from his waist to begin exploring his cock with her hands. She felt a rush of power with it flexed at her touch, jolting slightly in her hand.

She looked back up to find the Captain, staring down at her, his jaw clenched as he watched her with darkening eyes. The lust starting to make his pupils grown wide, giving him a more dangerous look.

After she had traced him and felt the skin move over the hardness beneath, she wanted to taste him. She had heard the girls talking about it before, knew that men loved when their cocks were taken into a mouth and sucked on.

Levi couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N as she looked up at him, her tongue sticking out to press against the tip of his cock, flicking against the slit. His stomach clenched at that first wet touch and he made a small sound as she drew him into the hot confines of her mouth.

He pushed forward a touch by accident and he grit his teeth and commanded his body to stay still. The feeling of her around him made him want to loose control and heedlessly fuck her mouth until that first deposit was shooting down her pretty little throat. It was so fucking hot to see her on her knees with his cock in her mouth, that tongue running across the vein of his pulsing member as she explored.

He moved her hand to his base and started pumping it with his own hand around hers as she moved up and down on the tip. A small groan escaped his lips as she sucked on him and rolled her tongue over the head of his cock. He wasn’t going to last too much longer if he let her continue.

Levi made himself pull away and bring her to her feet. Her face was flush and her breathing heavy, so he knew that it hadn’t disgusted her but rather had sparked a flame of desire. He led her over to the bed and let his hands acquaint themselves with her curves.

Skimming the edge of the nightgown, he swiftly pulled it over her head and tossed it on the nearby chair. She trembled as his knuckle grazed the peak of her breast and he repeated the action.

She pulled away and laid down, spreading her thighs in front of him. She was eager to either get it over with or get started, but the look in her eyes made him believe it was the latter. Climbing on the bed and kneeling between her spread legs, Levi let himself drink in the image before leaning down and running his tongue over her nipple and drawing it into his mouth.

He probed her moist folds with his fingers as he sucked, bit and licked the tip of her breast. He found her slick and wasted no time gently sliding a finger into her entrance. He knew that she was going to need to be stretched a bit to make sure that it wasn’t too painful. He would rather her eagerly fall into bed with him, accept him into her body after tonight rather than dread it and turn her face away while he hovered over her.

When he had worked two fingers into her passage he release her breast, her soft sighs as her fingers combing through his head telling him she was ready for the next part. He shifted down her body and inspected the silken folds of her sex. She had trimmed and prepare for this, just like he had.

He leaned forward and inhaled her scent. It was clean, a hint of soap from where she had washed and the underlying musk of her arousal. His eyes narrowed in on hers, watching him from above as he pressed his tongue against the nerves of her clit.

He grinned against her as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Her mouth had opened but no sound came out as she experienced the first touch of a mans tongue to her sex. He knew he was good at pleasing a woman and used every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth to push as much pleasure out of her.

He nibbled and sucked, pulling harshly on her clit as it came between his teeth for his tongue to worry. He continued to curl his fingers inside of her, moving easily now as her body had accommodated him and provided more lubrication. Her thighs were trembling around his head, showing how close she was to experiencing her first orgasm at the hands of someone else.

When she arched her body and cried out, Levi had pulled her tightly against him and continued to drive her orgasm even higher by increasing the pressure of his mouth. It wasn’t until she was tugging on his hair and sobbing her pleasure that he drew back and pulled his hand away.

His fingers were coated with her juices and he spread them over his hard and neglected cock. Her body was relaxed and she looked at him with heavy eyes laced with satisfaction as he moved over her.

It was just to make a baby, but still Levi reigned in the desire to just plunge into her body and fuck her hard. He would make sure by the time they left this cabin he had taken her exactly how he wanted, slamming his cock into her from behind, but for now, he would break her innocence gently.

It was so easy, slipping into her heat, the slickness of her orgasm paving the way for him to push against her barrier with ease. He leaned down and kissed her again as his hips surged forward and he tore through the little bit of skin that indicated her purity.

Y/N didn’t cry out in pain, just stiffened briefly and sighed as he filled her completely. It wasn’t the tearful, screaming experience that he had imagined and he was proud he could make it less traumatic.

When he tried to stay still, she was having none of it. She wrapped her legs around him and began to move, her hips awkward as she naturally tried to seek relief from the ache building inside of her again.

The pace he set was more sedate than he wanted but was still faster than he expected it to be. Her gasping hands and moaning words encouraging him to fuck her faster. His cock was surrounded by her walls throbbing against him, making him ache in response. He pulled back and drove forward steadily, getting lost in her body as he strove to find release for them both.

It wasn’t long before she came again. Her head thrown back and her breasts pushed up against his chest as she cried out his name. Fuck it sounded so good, breathlessly called in her voice. He thrusted a bit harder, feeling her clench around him as he was pushed over the edge himself.

He had to stop himself from pulling out at the last second. The habit of ripping himself from a woman to shoot his release harmlessly across her stomach ingrained in him from the old habits of his younger years. He hadn’t indulged in intimacy in so long, but self preservation had a way of being branded into an action.

Instead he snapped his hips into her again, driving his cock against her cervix as he stilled and his cock pulsed. Rope after rope of his seed jettisoned into her womb as he gasped from the pleasure. When he was done, he slumped down against her and let his head rest in the curve of her neck as he felt her flutter around his cock occasionally, making him flex in response.

He kept himself imbedded in her for far longer than he expected to, feeling his breathing return to normal before finally pulling away. He looked down at the woman underneath him. They had two weeks to create a new bloodline, and he was going to make sure she stayed filled with his seed the entire time.

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