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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 1 year

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK THREE: WARMER - CHAPTER 12

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 3 Chapter 1 is here …

MPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER TWELVE: THELGAEWYNN

The corridor round me seems to have grown surprisingly still as the dust finally starts to clear in the air after that particularly big blast Gael chucked out there, and from what I can see some of the black-clad fighters seem to be a bit stunned as a result. I’m getting used to it, though, or maybe they’ve got some way of fine-tuning whatever it is they’re doing to make sure none o’ their companions are troubled by it. Either way, when I lower my hands from over my head and start to stand up again, plucking my battleaxe from where I dropped it when I crouched in anticipation, I don’t seem to be experiencing the same effects. Sure ain’t like when we were done in the ruins the other night, when my head was fuzzy and my limbs were jelly. I’m glad o’ that.

That being said, reckon they might’ve gone a little overboard with that one. So I look back as they take in the damage, hearing rather than seeing a huge chunk of plasterboard and shattered wood drop into the gaping hole in the wall ahead, and fix ‘em with a stare. “Go easy, for Thorin’s sake!” I hiss their way.

Their blush is instant, and they grip their staff tight in both hands against their chest in an action I’m coming to recognise as their show of anxiety. I feel bad about snapping, but work not to show it. They need reining in some. “Yes, um … sorry.”

I hear a crack from somewhere behind ‘em, but all I can make out is the glimpse of a bright flash somewhere from the stairs leading up to us now. At the same moment something small and fast scurries round the corner, and I recognise Brung a split before he jumps right on one of the muddy-headed hoods while they’re still trying to get up. The others, making their way after us.

Mindful that whatever pause we just earned will be short, I turn back and start moving forward again, adjusting my grip on the axe’s shaft as I roll my shoulders. It’s timely, some of ‘em are already shaking off the effects, and as I move in a half-orc sees me coming, frowning as his eyes instantly start to darken, and he scrapes his longsword up with surprisingly steady hands as he starts to stumble my way. His first few steps are unsteady, but he keeps moving forward all the same, using his momentum to approach fast, and then he gets his feet under control and it turns into a feral charge as he lets a snarl go and makes a swing.

His blood’s up and he’s still rattled from the hit, so I just sidestep so it chops wide into the wall beside me with a great splash of shattered plaster chips. The wall’s now too weak for it to stick fast, not with his strong arms, so I jump while he’s still just off balance, not trying a big swing of my own in these tight confines but instead just stepping up close in front of him and jabbing his face hard with the axe-head. His nose mashes instantly, a great, bloody wet crunch popping under the heavy impact of good dwarven steel, the only thing I got left o’ my da’s, and he staggers back as he goes blind from pain and stinging tears, swearing in a great guttural grunt.

Not wanting to give him time to regroup, I twist so I can prime a sharp underhand swing round behind me, wheeling my body as I go so I don’t have to worry about the pitiful small amount of space I got to work with. When I snap back round the whole movement’s taken me a short beat, and he’s barely starting to blink through the tears now so he ain’t got time to react as I bring the axe hard up into his gut, whipping my hip round so I can really power through. It could almost be a shame he clearly didn’t have time to put his armour on, instead coming out in simple britches and a cotton undershirt, all he’s got to rely on to block it are his own abdominal muscles …

So the axe just bites deep into his midsection and I drive it into him so hard I actually manage to lift him bodily off his feet. The hit drives all the air right out of him, the only sound he can make is a weak, winded gasp, and his eyes bug wide out at me as he finally starts to focus, too late to actually do anything now. When I finish my swing his toes peddle in the air for a moment before his weight makes my arms sag again and his legs barely manage to support him on the landing before his knees start to give out. As he starts to drag me down I give the axe a hard yank to free it up … and it won’t come.

Shit. I should’ve expected that. Thel, you stupid bint, you put way too much force into that hit, it’s stuck fast in his backbone. As he collapses forward he almost brings me down with him … and there’s someone coming from behind him already. All I can do is let go of my axe, but that means I got nothing in my hands and I don’t think I got time to pull anything else before they’re on me.

I start back-peddling, but I got no chance of opening up sufficient space to give myself time as I start to pull the handaxe on my right free, this one’s coming too fast and they’re more with it than the half-orc was. Human, a woman, I realise, although she’s smaller than the average, broad-shouldered and stocky enough to be a particularly tall dwarf, but her smooth cheeks and smaller hands and feet give her away. She ain’t screaming like I would’ve expected with this kind of hard charge, too focused as her eyes are locked on me, and she’s bringing her shortsword to bear to run me through while she’s cocking her handaxe in the other. About all I got is to maybe throw myself aside at the last second and hope she just charges right by, but I don’t feel over confident about that one …

Something bright blue smacks into her and she’s bowled clean off her feet as whatever hit her knocks her back hard, crackling globules of aquamarine light flaring as they dance away before fading. I find myself stumbling back anyway as I start to wheel about, the axe almost slipping from my fingers as I finally yank it free, too late to actually have done anything with it anyway, but Gael’s already turning aside as the crystal in their staff starts to darken again. As I watch they wind the other end up and smash aside a stab before it can take ‘em in the side, smacking their attacker across the side of the head as they spin the staff back round on the counter.

Not bothering to watch the body go down as I get my own nerves back under control, I turn back to my own business again, seeing the woman rolling over onto her side, groaning loudly while she grasps her heavily smoking armoured chest. I don’t doubt that fucking hurt, I seen Gael use that spell before and it puts you down. But there’s another one already coming, so I ain’t got time to muse on it, instead adjusting my grip on my axe while I fish for the other too.

As I slip it loose I don’t bother waiting for this one to come, I just start my own advance, but don’t charge, preferring to watch what they plan on doing. A human boy, looks awful young actually, younger than I seen amongst this lot so far, looks like he’s lucky enough they managed to get hold of a suit o’ leather armour that actually fits him, he’s still short and skinny. But he ain’t moving with any awkwardness, looks pretty focused as he comes actually, handling his sword with surprising certainty. He ain’t gonna show me any mercy, looks like …

But I can’t cut him down, I know that the moment I step aside as he closes the distance so I can dodge his thrust. He’s already recovering as he plants his feet, not rushing past me like some, he’s on the ball, and as I skip aside he barely misses me with a backhand flick of his blade that has him frowning in some consternation as he realises he didn’t connect this time either. He don’t give me time to breathe here either, rushing me again, and I don’t bother trying to dodge this time, just bringing my shoulder up instead and putting all my weight into a bull rush. He ain’t quite quick enough to realise what I’m doing as I barge him aside, and too close to wall so he just slams right into it, bouncing off with a surpried yelp as I spin round to respond.

I twist my left-hand axe at the last as I swing, so I catch him across the side of his face with the flat of the beard rather than the edge. I don’t pull the strike any, though, and his jaw crunches loud under the impact as the bone breaks badly, making him spit blood and bits of teeth as he spins on the spot. For a moment he manages to keep his feet, wheeling in a drunken stagger now, but his eyes are already rolling up to show the white, and his legs buckle a moment later, spilling him backwards into a clumsy sprawl.

I got room to the next door now, and I make for it even as another one comes for me. This one’s another half-orc, not even bothering with trying anything fancy, having forsaken the blades the others are packing in favour of a spiky mace, and he swings while making a clumsy leap at me. The result is he’s just flailing it at me and hoping for the best while he’s still moving, and the momentum’s enough he’s flying headfirst as it comes whistling at my face.

If I was less on-guard right now he might’ve killed me right here, but instead I just duck and it whistles over my head, smashing into the wall with a great dusty crack as the spiky head breaks clean through the plasterboard. His momentum carries him forward and he squawks with indignant realisation as it occurs to him that he’s sprawling face-first while also wide open to attack. I catch the base of his skull on the backswing with my left-hand axe and don’t even bother to watch the body crumple, I just shuck it free and keep moving.

As I shove my way through the door I step right into a choking haze, suddenly I can’t see anything and can barely breathe. I’m a moment realising that’s a mistake, I already clocked I ain’t alone, there’s shapes in here, some I can sort of work out are beds but others are moving, and coughing, I notice. One seems like it might be somebody trying to dig another out from under a big pile o’ collapsed wood and plaster, but another’s already worked out they ain’t alone either, and then they’re coming at me and I can just make out a muted flash of bare steel. That’s enough to put me on alert and I tighten up as they come at me.

Unable to make out any details in the roiling cloud of dust, I just concentrate on the sword this vague shadow’s hacking at whatever they can see in front of ‘em, and I respond in kind, knocking the blade aside before stepping in to swing with my other axe. I don’t pull this hit any more’n the last, jamming the full beard up into the centre o’ that darker mass in the grey, and they must not see it coming cuz they practically walk right it. I feel the blade strike home and the body jerks, and that nagging voice in the back o’ my head takes too long to remind me that I don’t know who I just killed. Which is a problem, ‘course it is …

Not bothering to step forward, instead I just drag the body on the end of my arm forward and try to blink through the haze at whatever I can make out of a face, hoping whatever strength they got left in their failing legs is enough to keep ‘em from just falling on top o’ me. Ain’t the half-elf, I lucked out there, instead it’s just some nondescript human male spitting blood as he collapses to his knees, so I just give the shaft a little yank upwards to tug the blade loose and yank the axe free. Finally I step aside and the body just topples past me as I step towards the only two other individuals I can be sure are in here.

Waving my axes in front of me to try and clear the air just makes it worse, this whole room’s a mess. As I move forward another cracking sound spills down at my side and a massive chunk of wall falls away, dropping on top of the wreckage already settled in here. As this throws up a fresh cloud to make things worse the buried individual cries out, so even as I lose track of both of ‘em in the blinding wash of fresh dust I can still keep track of roughly where they are. Throwing my arm over my face I try breathing into the crook of my elbow for a few moments while screwing my eyes tight shut so I won’t be blinded, but it stings all the same and I cough out a frustrated little curse. What the fuck was I thinking coming in here?

More coughing close by wrenches my attention and I have to blink over my arm, and for a moment or two all I can see is more swirling haze, tears filling my eyes now as the dust stings ‘em worse. Leaving my arm where it is I blink a few more times, hoping the tears might wash my eyes clean after all, then I can start to make out basic shapes in the blur again and I got a fix again.

“Just …” A gruff voice breaks into a particularly aggravated coughing fit. “Fucking leave me, you …” More hacking. “Fucking idiot …”

“No, I …” The shape ahead of me seems to stiffen now, and I’m a moment realising they rumbled me getting close. “Shit!”

As the one under the rubble starts coughing and spluttering again the other one drags something up from the floor next to them and charges me through the broiling miasma … I realise it’s a sword a split before the blade comes whipping right at my face. Round the same time I realise I actually recognise this sword, then I’m ducking aside to avoid getting my head struck right off …

Something strikes my back and I’m already stumbling aside from a perceived attack when I realise it’s just the frame of a bunkbed. Then the blurred silhouette hacks through the space I was just in and strikes the support instead, cleaving deep into the wood and fouling their blade, and in the seconds it takes ‘em to yank it free again I’m starting to recover my composure. I plant my feet, hawk up a mouthful from my throat and spit it aside as I lunge.

Tog catches the movement surprisingly quickly, but he’s only just the got sword free and he’s on the backfoot in this fight. The parry he manages to turn my own stroke aside is clumsy, if there’d been more art to it he could’ve unbalanced me, instead I’m already swinging my other axe up from under and all he can do to avoid getting tagged is jump back. I press my advantage now and charge into his centre of mass, able to aim myself well enough since we’re so close together my shoulder hits home pretty perfect.

If the bed hadn’t been behind him I might put him down, but instead he tumbles backwards over the mattress and then the whole thing’s in-between us. Shit … yeah, I didn’t really think this out. But my blood’s up so I just jump right up onto the lower bunk after him and keep moving forward, and while he’s already scrambling back to try and clear some distance I just stay hot on his heels now.

He's close, I got him now and he’s on the run. My blood’s up now, I’m so focused I can almost see him now through the dust, and as I jump down on the other side I charge, already winding up for another chop.

Not even bothering to try getting up again, Tog just scrabbles backwards with his heels, swinging his sword in big lairy haymakers that I imagine are intended to ward me off. For a few moments it works, I’m wary enough to realise that if that blade catches me as I try to lunge in that’s gonna ruin my whole day, but finally I throw in a block and my timing’s true, battering the blade aside with a great ringing buzz. I can’t see him well enough to make out his face but I know that hurt, his fingers’ll be screaming from that jolt, and I can make out enough to give me a target as I start to follow through with my other axe. Aiming to cleave that smug little face clean in two even if I won’t get the chance to enjoy his expression when it happens.

“STOP!!!” The shout is … there’s something about it, there’s more to it than just urgency that stays my hand at the very last split, when the beard of my axe must be a single hair’s breadth from his forehead. It’s strange … it’s almost like my whole arm … hell, my whole body has just been locked into a banded prison of thick dwarven steel. I couldn’t move if I tried … and fuck knows I am trying right now.

The thing is, as I’m rooted to the spot, unable to move a single inch, it gives me a moment to think, and I’m quick catching up to the fact I can actually see my opponent now, proper make out his features, really recognising him now. Tog actually really does look younger than I would’ve thought he was before, it’s not just the fact that he’s a half-elf so he’s youthful, but the look on his face gives him away too easily. He’s scared right now, a rabbit in torchlight caught in a night hunt, crossed eyes locked on the blade frozen barely short of the centre of his face. The fear checks me too, I reckon … but actually being able to see it gives me that additional pause I need as I look through the corner of my eye …

Gael’s stood close by, staff in both hands with the crystal blazing bright white in its tip, and now I finally get that the air is suddenly very clear, barely more than the odd stray mote of dust lazily wafting through the air now. Like they’re exuding some kind of aura that’s clearing the air, or maybe they just made it all disperse while I was distracted. They look … different, mind, there’s something smeared right across their mouth, for a moment I think they’ve been splashed with blood, or maybe been chewing on someone, but it don’t look right, it’s more like a powder, although it’s sure red enough to mistake. Then, as I watch, they turn their head aside but keep their eyes locked on me as they spit something out, and I realise that powder ain’t just on their face, they must’ve crammed a handful of whatever it is into their mouth to chew on. Another component for their magic, then.

“Thel, please, just stop it. You’ve caught him. Don’t kill him.” They’re imploring with their tone, even while their stare remains intense, unblinking even though their eyes must surely be stinging bad as mine have been. “You remember? Why we’re here?”

Fuck … damn it, the skinny kid’s got a point. I’d growl if I could but I can’t, somehow my vocal chords seems to be froze up much as the rest o’ me. All I can move is my eyes, so I just roll ‘em instead, and hope that’s good enough to interpret.

“Oh … shit. Of course …” Gael adjusts their grip on their staff as they shift their stance, moving a little closer, then pauses. “I forgot you can’t … look, just please don’t do anything stupid, okay? I don’t want to freeze you again, but I will. All right?”

There’s nothing I can do but stare right back, but I hope that can convey enough of my frustration to cut through. I see ‘em frown some, and there’s a subtle flush starting in their cheeks again that means they must sense my frustration … then they mutter something under their breath and it’s another of those strange sensory things where it’s felt-not-heard, and my muscles are suddenly released again. I start to collapse, as much because I was frozen in a somewhat overextended position, and I can barely catch myself in time to keep my blade axe from cutting down as I instead fight to swing it aside again.

Tog winces even so as the blade just brushes the bridge of his nose before I can withdraw it, and I know he’s desperate to try and scramble out from under, anything to get away, but I’m already dropping onto all-fours on top of him as my limbs give out. The axes in my hands clatter loudly as I land, and he’s skinny enough I can easily straddle him, my weight clearly substantial enough to lock him in place. He’s a little winded by the impact on his midsection, but mostly just rattled as I sit forward fast so I can lean close to his face. “Hello again.”

“Um … I …” He falters, his eyes locked on mine now, then I catch the scrape of steel as he shifts slightly, remembering the sword still gripped at his side, and I tense, ready to push up so I can swat it aside, although I’m not sure if I can actually keep from killing him after. My blood’s still hot right now.

Except Gael’s already there, I don’t hear their footfalls but their staff suddenly snaps down and batters the sword hard down again, sending the whole thing twisting out of his fingers with a great rattling buzz, and Tog winces again as he snatches his hand away. “Argh … fuckin’ bitch! What are you –”

“Shut … the fuck … up.” I push myself up on my knees now so I can lean forward a little more, bringing my face as close to his face as possible, ‘til I’m pretty much nose-to-nose with him. “Another sound escapes you ain’t asked for I’m gonna break your arm. Just cuz I can’t cut you don’t mean I can’t hurt you.”

He goes very still again after that, looking up at me even as I start to sit back again, finally planting myself on top of his belly now as I draw my knees up so I can plant my feet, and after a moment’s consideration I give both my axes a good hard shake. They’re not so gory as they could be, but they’re still messy, I don’t fancy slipping either one back into their loops just yet, not in this state. So instead I finally just give the left-hand one a little toss down on my side so it thunks fast into the wood of that floor by my side, making sure it’s out of reach of Tog’s own hand, then cast about for something to wipe the other one with.

“Gael?” I hear coughing from outside the room, and as I chance a look up again I see that, in fact, the dust was just forced out of the room and into the corridor instead. After a few moments I hear someone call their name again, then descending into another coughing fit, before a hand emerges from the billow of dust beyond the door and starts shaking about like it’s probing. “For the love of … are you there?”

“Oh! Shit … sorry!” Gael almost drops their staff now as they start juggling it, then steps forward and takes hold of the hand before it can flap about more. “In here.” They pull and Shay is towed into the room, still coughing as they emerge, looking a sorry sight indeed, actually.

I remember seeing her when she first came down from her room in the hotel earlier, dressed up in her full armour and looking pretty fucking lethal if I’m honest. Certainly is was quite the impressive, stirring sight, I already thought she’s attractive but in this getup she’s genuinely hot … but since this all kicked off she’s clearly been through it some. She doesn’t look to have taken any damage, but she’s definitely fucked somebody else up, liberally splashed as she is with blood, although most of it seems to be concentrated around his arms. Unfortunately the dust seems to be clinging to that with some stubbornness now, and as a result it’s giving her a somewhat piebald look.

Looking back down at the boy now, I see his own attention seems to have been drawn by the new arrival, but he’s clearly also been trying to take advantage of my own distraction as he’s reaching for something underneath him, in the small of his back. Tossing the axe to my other hand, I shoot my right hand fast under him and grab hold of his fist as he starts to withdraw it, squeezing good and hard and more than a little pleased to feel how his fingers start to compress a little too much under my grip. He yelps again, flinching as he tries to pull away from me, but I got him tight and I’m still weighing him down, he’s got no leverage right now, so all he can do is comply as I drag his hand up. I give his hand one last little crush, harder than ever this time when I see the knife he clearly intended to draw on me, and this time I hear the bones in it crack.

Needless to say he can’t hold on any longer after that, so when I finally let go he immediately drops the blade, which just clatters at his side. Grasping it with his other hand, he lies back, whimpering in miserable pain, while I fish the knife up off the floor and give it a look over.

“You … ah, fuck, you bitch, I can’t believe you … you broke my fuckin’ hand you little cunt!”

Sitting forward much faster this time, I bring the knife up too and wave it in his face, finally pressing the flat of it against his cheek. “I don’t like that word, don’t reckon there’s any lass likes that word, you unpleasant lanky piece o’ shit. So I suggest you shut your mouth like I already suggested before I decide to just start cutting on you anyways an’ let you choke to death like the rest o’ your mates just cuz I don’t like you any. How about that?”

“I … I thought you …” He shuts up the moment I press the blade a little firmer, even though I’m making every effort to stick with the flat of the blade. As a knife it’s nothing special, but it’s definitely sharp enough to do the trick.

“Maybe, but you an’ me been dancing round each other for a good week now an’ I’m getting a little tired of it. I might actually enjoy getting chewed out for killing you early if it means I can watch you shuffle off this mortal coil.” I cock my head, watching him for a long moment and very much making my point while I do it. “We done?”

He don’t speak, don’t even make a sound, just watches me like I’m a fucking demon, and I can’t help smiling at that. So I just sit back again, tossing the knife over my shoulder to clatter away somewhere in the corner without taking my eyes from his.

“Excellent. Glad we could finally get that sorted out. Best not try anything else, mind.” After a moment I reach to the side and drag one of the blankets loose from the nearest bed, taking up a handful and using it to start wiping my axe clean. Keeping my eyes locked on him the whole time.

“This him?” I hear Shay before she arrives, stepping close now but stopping a few feet short as she seems to tilt in the corner of my eye, likely shifting her weight a little as she regards my prisoner.

“In the flesh.” I slip the axe into its loop on the belt at last, before groping about for a moment before I’m able to retrieve the other, pulling it free from the board without breaking my stare from Tog. “A little beat up but no leaks. As requested.”

I hear the floorboards creak subtly under her as she leans closer, taking a look at him now. “Huh … he is not what I imagined.”

“They seldom are, I found.”

“You all right?” she asks after a moment’s pause, taking me somewhat by surprise. I can’t help breaking eye contact with the boy now so I can look up at her.

“How d’you mean?”

“You’re …” She frowns, reaching up now with a clear intention of brushing her bangs from her face, but she stops short just in time to keep from smearing what’s still all over her gloved hand into her hair. This only seems to deepen her frown. “I’m sorry, but … I mean, you’re in quite a state.”

Looking down again, I inspect myself, for what I realise is actually the first time since we started. I’m pretty liberally caked in dust now myself, it seems, clinging to the blood the same as it is on her, but in my case there’s a good deal more of it. “Hmmm … oh no, I’m fine. None o’ this is mine, any more’n I imagine any o’ that’s yours. They fought hard, but I fought harder.” I look back down at the half-elf, still clutching his hand, watching me with the same rattled wariness. “Most weren’t up to snuff anyway. Once I started moving outside I was through the door almost before there was any real alarm gone up for the rest inside.”

“I see.” Shay says it almost like a sigh, and when I look back this time she looks weary deep in her bones, and I wonder if maybe she’s starting to feel it again, the fatigue. I know she’s been putting a brave face on since we set out this morning, I saw how hard she found that climb. Reckon the fight itself probably didn’t touch her when she was in it, not once her blood was up, but adrenaline can only get you so far. She’ll be crashing now.

But there’s more to it than that. There’s been something in her since we met, if I’m honest, under everything else. A touch of melancholy, I think. Something happened to her, maybe quite recent, even before she almost got killed the other day, something that’s still weighing on her. Something heavy. Every now and then something’ll happen, like seeing something particular dark just triggers it, and she goes all quiet. Withdrawn, haunted even. I seen it before in others, I recognise trauma when I see it.

“Shay.” Gael’s voice seems to stir her quick enough, at least. The young half-orc blinks, her frown evaporating slightly, but I think it’s more just the tone of the voice than anything more specific. “Shay, you might want to see this.”

Gael’s crouching next to the man who’s still trapped under the rubble, clearly having given up trying to drag himself out now he’s seen that he’s surrounded. As Shay turns to regard ‘em both, I sit back, leaning some so I can take a better look myself, but I’m careful to shift my weight as little as possible now while I’m distracted. If the wizard thinks this might be noteworthy …

Hmmm … once I can see past the dust caking part of his face, I get what she might mean as he blinks, spitting a little as he tries to clear his mouth. He’s clearly older than most o’ the folk we been fighting, both in here and before, in the other groups. He’s human, I can see, somewhat rugged and worn, so the years really show … into his forties now at least, maybe older still, and hard-lived years too from the look of it. His face is clean save for a scruff of salt-and-pepper stubble, his jaw thick and square, brow heavy. He’s got the look of a hard, serious man, but something in his eyes, teary as they are from the dust … there’s a clear intelligence in ‘em.

He seems more dressed up than the rest too, like he came from outside instead o’ just throwing the gear on in the rush. He has leather armour on, but it’s pretty rich, and there’s a fine cloak strapped around his shoulder, kid leather gloves on his hands. As I watch Gael looks about, seeming to spot something, the way they frown as they lean forward enough to pluck something up from the floor … with a subtle scrape of metal on wood I realise it’s a sword even before they’ve raised it, holding it out to Shay now. A longsword, styled like the rest of the gear they’ve been using, well-made, simple but of a surprising high quality, but more than that the steel’s unusually dark. Guild-made, then.

When Shay takes the sword from ‘em, she’s clearly thinking the same thing as she lifts it, turning it a few times in her hand as she checks it over. “Hmmm …” She shifts her stance a little, then turns and jabs the sword hard down into the floor so it wedges in place well out of the man’s reach now. Then she takes a step forward and drops into a crouch on his other side from Gael. “Who are you?”

Blinking again, the man looks up at her, and there’s none of the fear I seen in Tog, or would expect in any of the others. He works his mouth a little, and I expect him to spit, but instead he simply growls and mutters: “Piss off.”

“He wouldn’t leave ‘im.” I say after a moment, around the same time the cogs in my head start turning proper again. “Tog, I mean. He was dead set on getting him out.”

“I seen him before.” Darwyn takes us all by surprise, we didn’t see her come in, but she’s stepping over now too, and she doesn’t have to crouch like the rest of ‘em to get a proper good look. The look on her face is complicated, I wonder if there’s more going on with her right now than I can see, but she’s clearly focused right now. “A while back, he was younger, but … yeah, it’s him. When I was just coming up, we had to deal with a bunch o’ punks from down the docks, tried to pull a fast one over on us. Half the crew ended up getting the air cut out of ‘em before we chucked ‘em in the harbour. This was one o’ the ones got let off with a warning, to tell the tale. Didn’t get his name at the time, but … seemed like he might be a bigger deal if he learned his lesson.”

The man looks her over for a moment, then just lets out a frustrated sigh, looking up at Shay. He cocks a brow, as if waiting for her to speak again.

“Who are you?”

For a long beat he just looks back. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says it in such a matter-of-fact manner it doesn’t feel like bravado at all.

Cocking their head for a moment, Gael just leans forward and reaches out, and he flinches away from their touch when they poke his face, just by his brow. Where the blood’s running down, from his scalp. The blood … wait.

“He’s still alive.” Gael says it in a low tone, almost as if they’re not really thinking about what they’re saying, it’s just idle musing as they look at the little smears of blood on their fingertips as they work at it with their thumb. “He’s bleeding, and he’s trapped … but he’s still alive.”

For a long, drawn out moment nobody speaks, or moves. ‘Least not in here – I see movement just outside the door, slowly becoming aware that the dust must finally be fading because of it, but mainly cuz I can actually see Krakka standing just outside the doorway now, looking in but not joining us. As he sees me looking he frowns, taking the scene in, but still doesn’t step forward. Like he senses the gravity of the moment.

Finally Shay shoots her hands out, grabbing his left wrist hard and fast before he has a chance to yank it back. He tries to jerk it away now, but when she holds on he stops, giving up at last, and it’s clear he’s one cool customer, he knows he won’t get anywhere fighting her like this so he just won’t bother. So when she starts unstrapping the bracer on his wrist he just lets out a sigh and lowers his face, looking at the floor now. Waiting for the inevitable.

When she’s finally got it free she chucks it away without ceremony, and I find myself shifting a little more, starting to lift my weight ever so slightly as I start to crane so I can get the best view I can. I already suspect what this is, but I wanna see all the same. So when she yanks the sleeve of his shirt up from his wrist I don’t bother fighting the urge anymore, I just step right up as I start to move over, wanting as good a look as I can get now.

His wrist is clean. There’s not so much as a freckle under the thick hairs growing on the back of that forearm, and certainly no tattoo. “Son of a bitch.” I hear myself breathe it before I quite realise I’ve even spoken.

“There’s no mark.” Gael mutters, sounding as surprised as I feel.

“But that’s …” Darwyn look around the rest of us, then past me, and that’s enough for me to remember my charge again, so I’m already turning back to find Tog’s seen enough sense to just stay where he is on the floor when she manages to stutter: “That’s … it’s … but all the others … I mean every other one out there is dead now. Even the ones shouldn’t have died from those wounds …”

“Except him.” Shay muses. When I turn back to her again, reassured Tog’s not going to try anything after all while I ain’t looking, she’s already straightening up again herself. “Because he’s not just one of the flunkies, like the rest.”

For a moment none of us speak, just looking down at the man as he lets a low, frustrated sigh go before finally turning his head so he can look up at Shay again, having to crane somewhat now. He doesn’t look fearful at being caught out, he just seems resigned.

In the end I’m the one who says what the rest must already be thinking. “So this is Vik.”

“Yeah.” Shay’s actually starting to smile now as she turns to me again. “It fucking is.”

“Well that’s a neat turn-up for the books.” I start grinning myself, although reckon mine’s got more of an edge. “Best part is it means we don’t need this little twerp anymore.”

Reckon I see the start of a frown form on Shay’s face as she catches up to my meaning, but by then I’m already moving. I don’t bother going back, I just wind up with the axe still in my hand as I turn, using the twist to help me whip it as I toss it spinning at Tog’s face while he’s still propping himself up. He don’t have time to react, barely even gets a chance for his eyes to widen before the axe splits his skull with a nice, satisfying thwack, and he’s dead before his limp body hits the boards again.

Letting out a long, relieved sigh, I give my neck a little roll to work out the kinks and look down at my hands, then have a crack at dusting ‘em off. I’m a few moments noticing the dead silence in the room, but when I look up I make the connection at last.

Everybody’s looking at me in open, dumbfounded shock. Gael’s even got both hands over their mouth, eyes wide as I ever seem ‘em, looking particularly pale now.

Shifting my stance, I can’t help frowning over at them all, and offer up a shrug. “What?”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 3 chapter 12 #fantasy fiction #to be continued

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kentosovertime · 3 years

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naoya zen'in x f!reader - 0.8k words

A/N: here's my second to last kinktober piece <3 this drabble is in collaboration with @nkogneatho's dilftober event (link below check it out!) i love the idea of a role switch where the reader is the one driving the breeding kink

↳ 🎟 Day 26 - zenin naoya x fem!reader - pregnancy + breeding kink

CW: pregnancy kink, breeding kink, name calling, explicit sex, unprotected sex, swearing, dilf!naoya

Banner Credit: @/fateshatter on twitter

✨Kinktober Masterlist | Masterlist | Dilftober Masterlist | Ko-Fi✨

The bed groans in protest when Naoya’s body collapses against the sheet, falling from the place he was dressing for the

“What do you think you’re-” His sentence is cut off, sensing a different air about you, seeing purpose in your actions.

His mouth goes dry when you look up from your normal demure position to look down at him with a dark gaze that consumes him as you look up his half dressed form, promptly dropping the robe you had tied around yourself.

Taking his speechlessness as the go ahead, you lean over his half naked form to attack the button and zipper on his slacks, barely getting them halfway down his thighs before the urge to mount him becomes too overwhelming. You allow your carnal needs to guide your body.

This was inherently risky, not knowing how he’d react to you demanding any sort of intimacy from him. But you couldn’t stop. You can see the question in his eyes as you settle over his waist.

Would he think you weak and desperate if he knew? You’ve been his wife long enough to know he’d call you a desperate slut, despite knowing that he’s of the same opinion when it comes to your children. His actions were just as feral, just as unhinged and animalistic when he took you with the purpose of assaulting your womb. How could your husband fault you for wanting him just as badly?

Just this morning as you mended a piece of your son’s clothing, enjoying the fresh air of the house’s courtyard, the peels of laughter erupting from your child’s mouth had your gaze meeting Naoya chasing after him, a wide grin on his face.

You never would have pegged him for being a hands-on father, but fuck does it do terrible things to the hormones wreaking havoc on your body. Soft, but insufferably hot between your thighs. You’d give him as many as he wanted, and maybe a few extra for yourself.

You moan pretty for him as you reach in between your bodies to grasp at his length, rubbing it between your folds to coat him in the slick that had built up since this morning.

“What’s gotten into you, princess?” Naoya grins up at you, amused by your needy actions. He groans freely as you arch your back, sinking yourself down onto his length, hissing out. “Not that I’m complaining…”

He takes a second to take in a deep breath, steadying himself by gripping onto your hips to be able to bear the suffocating grip you have on him. You lightly grab one of his hands, pulling him up to palm at your tits.

Your hips start to grind down on his cock, lifting at an ever increasing rhythm, as you use his grip and his chest to brace yourself on so you can maintain your pace. The way he fills you is intoxicating, almost making you forget his question.

“W-want- fuck…” you mewl on top of him, throwing your head back when you hit just the right spot. “Want a-another one! P-please!”

“Want you to f-fuck another baby into me- ah!”

“My desperate slut of a wife…” he coos up at you, starting to buck up into your heat with your downstrokes, ramming the tip of his cock as deep as physically possible, causing you to scream out his name loud enough for the household servants to hear in the hallway.

His hands circle your stomach picking you up and down to help you, feeling your body start to collapse with your fluttering walls.

He keeps his thoughts to himself. He doesn’t tell you how much he likes this or how much he cares that you crave being swollen with his child, your enthusiasm is an instant turn on for him. He’d never allow you the privilege of knowing you were the perfect wife, the perfect mother to his heirs.

“Cum for me and I’ll put a baby right here.” Naoya’s thumbs press into your stomach while he continues to manhandle you down onto his cock.

You don’t stand a chance, you let your orgasm rip through you, milking him dry as the vice grip on him has his seed exploding deep into your womb. Your pants hit his chest heavily where you’ve braced your forehead to catch your breath.

He looks down with a sick grin when he comes down from his high, seeing the mess you’ve made on his chest with your nails, knowing that until they heal, he’ll be wearing his robes in a way that will display them to everyone, showing them exactly how cum hungry his little wife is.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210@rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi

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jacedeangelo · 2 years

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Sometimes I feel normal and then I remember four things:

1) At the end of Soul Eater, Maka gets like. Scythe powers? For like four seconds.

2) Crona ended up ON THE MOON what the FUCK Kyle like they just get left there???

3) Heavily implied that Death dies because Kid's death rings or whatever fully connect and now Kid is going to have to take on the mantle of Death because his dad died because of him using his full powers to protect the world.

4) Maka just. Fakes out one of the most powerful beings in her universe. She walks up to him and one hit KOs him like instant fatality. She just. Does that.

And then the Manga ends with none of this resolved. Like do you understand how feral this makes me. I watched this show when I was 12 and every time I remember it I go absolutely beserk.

#jacetalks #mine #my post #soul eater #no literally it drives me bonkers and all the fics are so focused on like maka/soul no-fighting AUs #like she eas so badass let her beat ppl up please #but also wtf wtf wtf the ending #i could be misremembering some things but its was so wild

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lunatictimekeeper · 3 years

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Obey Me | Lucifer x Male!Reader

❥ WC: 1494 || ❥ Rating: Explicit || ❥ Genre: Smut || ❥ Fandom: Obey me (Shall we Date?)

❥ Summary: Lucifer was begging.

“Please,” his voice just a vibration on your inner thigh as he mouths the new mark he’d proudly put there. It’s a whimper, a whine, and a moan all in one. You look down at him from your position at the edge of the bed- Lucifer kneeling between your legs. One hand is hooked under your thigh, the other rests on your waist with a loving but greedy grip. With lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, he presses another kiss to your inner thigh, but grazes just the tips of his fangs against the skin. It’s enough to make you give a pleasurable shiver- causes your heartbeat to spike in anticipation.

If you like my writing, considering sending me a ko-fi!

Lucifer was begging.

But he won’t do it. He can’t. So he repeats his plea.

You take your hand off the bed to cup his cheek, causing him to lean desperately into your palm. You smile innocently, but the lust swirling in your eyes betrays any semblance of purity you might’ve feigned. Looking at you from above, Lucifer feels his blood rush lower- tries to swallow the lump in his throat as he looks at you.

You’re beautiful. He wants to make you a mess, and show you how much your being was valued. How precious you were to him. But he waits, not even thinking of his own need or the hard length that’s firmly pressed against the bed frame and his stomach.

Your fingers caress his cheek, but you remain silent, messaging his lip with your thumb. He shivers as your nail grazes his lip, but welcomes the finger into his mouth. You push his tongue down, but he’s stubborn in a way, he wants to taste you, feel you! And yet, before he can make a full loop with his tongue you take your finger away with a soft pop and Lucifer keens.

“Please? Please what, Luci?” You question sweetly, leaning forward just enough to put your lips centimeters apart. Lucifer whines, traces circles on your waist, and breathes your name like the air he needs to live. "Please, let me show you a pleasure only I can give..."

In response to his breathless plea, you blink. And then you take a look at the sculpted god below you. Flushed cheeks and lidded eyes, Lucifer’s air was seemingly constricted with just a look from you. You grin, nothing but animalistic desire as you taunt him. You finally tug the leash around his neck with your other hand, a brief kiss pressed to his lips. "But Luci, I'm quite enjoying myself right here. Such a strong demon, the eldest son, reduced to a whimpering mess because a human lays bare above him? I must say you look good under me."

If you were elated by a needy, wanton Lucifer below you, you took unholy pleasure in the sound that left him, his defeated, teary eyes stare and his frustration. "Aww, how absolutely needy you are, such a good boy," you practically moaned. Lucifer whined again at your silence, your words of praise travelling south, and pawed at your hips in an attempt to get you to come closer. To let him kiss you, touch you, worship you... But a firm tug on the leash stilled any movement from him. How obedient, you thought sadistically. But Lucifer was almost in tears, and though you were lost to your own lust, you wanted to see how far you could take this power trip.

With a slow, measured movement, you stretched out your index finger and glided gently over the head of Lucifer's length. A sharp gasp echoes in the room, a long drawn out moan, and Lucifer's begging make another symphony in your ears. How cute, you muse to yourself, even as Lucifer's form shifts slightly. The metal around the base of his length shines with the glint of your eyes. He whimpers unintelligible mess as you make a round trip with your index finger. And then, with every intention of making him plead, you drift that feather light touch to the leakage at the head and flick. He shudders as the cries leave him, your ministrations to his searing, sensitive flesh causing him to draw blanks. Suddenly, Lucifer grips your thigh- it's bruising, but it isn't intentional and that makes it all the more enjoyable.

"Oh? Something wrong, love?"

"More," He trails quietly, your smirk twisting maliciously. But before the sentence he could dream leaves him, he shifts, the band around the base of his length snaps and clatters out the floor. In his demon form, Lucifer is a sight to behold, nothing but muscle and power. But more than that, he openly radiates the need to please you. Even if he breaks a few rules to do so. He's on his feet in an instant, pulling you up and around as he switches your positions, with you on his lap. You tug at the leash, testing how far gone he is, but in the moment he lurches forward, he presses a hot, feral kiss to your lips. You moan, shifting in his lap until both of your erections are pressed together, forcing Lucifer to shiver and pull you closer. But his orgasm is the last thing on his mind, especially with you bare on his lap.

"No more teasing, let me touch you properly," He mouths against your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone and choosing where his teeth nipped at the flesh with care. Just the right mix of pain and pleasure, with so much hunger and need that even you could feel it. "So beautiful," He whimpers against your skin, deciding to give his dominance a parting gift. His hands, warm and large, engulf you, and then his teeth are sinking into your neck and you yelp and cling to him, the stimulation a bit too much. You whine, but Lucifer laps reverently at your skin, and apology of sorts. "I'll make a mess of you."

He growls, and it's all you can do to sit still, unbothered in appearance, and not palm yourself. It's so possessive, but more than that, it's hungry and passionate. A growl reserved for you, when Lucifer decides that you are the only ruler who could possibly make him feel all this and more. Taking your hips in his hands, he pulls you chest to chest so that he can easily overpower you with kisses. But his hands are drifting, everywhere and nowhere, hot and then unsatisfyingly cold as they move to their next destination. Lucifer spares no effort in letting you know he worships you, but he also knows that if you tug, he will obey. Because he worships you above all else.

He pauses for just a moment, laying you on your back as he keeps his eyes locked on yours. "Let me treasure you, and only you." He whispers, kissing down to your navel, until he uses his strong arms to open your legs- not that you would have denied him. He's so focused, so determined to please you, so dedicated... the moment the kisses on your inner thigh make it to your length, he's drooling. He hums, nuzzling his face into you in a lewd manner, but even then you can feel the love in it. And then he sucks the tip between his lips, and you can't help the helpless whine that leaves you. Lucifer moans in return, and though he's tried to restrain himself, he comes to the sound of your pleasured moans, hollowing his cheeks even then as he focuses solely on you. His pleasure vibrates against you, and you can't help but whimper his name in unabashed lust and pleasure. Lucifer doubles down, keeps his eyes on your face as much as he can with you down his throat. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. He takes his time bringing you to the end, pulling off with a slick pop to breath, before his hands begin to work you along with his mouth. "Mmm," he hums, teasingly, maybe even tauntingly, before he focuses on your orgasm and begins to suck and circle his tongue around you.

"Lucifer!" You cry, hands flying to tangle in his hair. Your stomach tightens, and you can't warn him fast enough- you get the feeling he doesn't want you too - before you climax hits and Lucifer pulls away slowly, a string of fluid connecting his lips to the head of you length. You blush as you catch your breath, but Lucifer smiles and climbs over you, wrapping around your back as you come down from your high. You open your mouth to speak, but Lucifer moves his finger to your lips to silence you.

"All about you," He huffs, though he is happy that you're worried about him. He pulls you closer, and with that warmth and Lucifer tracing circles on your stomach you both fall asleep. But your smile doesn't fade, and your dreams are consumed by fantasies of Lucifer going all out.

#luwrites #male reader #lucifer obey me #lucifer obey me x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #obey me #i claim no mastery in titles

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atsuminthe · 3 years

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Cuddlebug

—No matter the circumstance, Bokuto gives the best cuddles.

warnings: female reader, 18+, unprotected sex, plain vanilla sex, unedited

"BABY OWL!!"

In spite of being startled awake from the little nap you've taken in the armchair—and regtetting it, from the slight soreness in your legs—your lips curl into a smile as Bokuto tosses his gym bag on the floor and throws his hands in the air, ready to pounce on you in the tiny space left the armchair has. You throw your own hands in the air to stop him, but it's too late—he already squishes himself inbetween you and the stiff pillowy arm of the armchair.

"I missed you, baby!" he exclaims, hugging you close and emphasizing every word with a kiss. Your giggles and the sound of wet smooches fills the room as Bokuto's relentless assault on your face continues.

"I missed you too, Ko, but please—you're suffocating me!" you giggle and push his face away from you. He's stronger than you, however, and pushing him away only brings him closer. "At least move us on a more spacious surface!"

"But I'm comfortable here," he whines, resembling a big teddy bear. You pat his head, and his grip on you loosens just enough for you to breathe properly, to which you laugh and smoosh your cheek on his. "I don't want to move. You're comfy, babe."

"Your back will hurt if you stay curled up like that, Ko," you point out, and while he doesn't want to admit, it is a bit painful to stay compressed like that—so he does tbe first thing that crosses his mind: lift you up, make himself comfortable in the armchair and plop you on his lap. Your squeaks make Bokuto laugh and he kisses both of your cheeks, sighing softly when you place your head on his shoulder, allowing himself to relax for a few moments.

"You love me, right, baby?" he asks—not for reassurance, but because he likes to hear you saying that—and you giggle, then nod, wiggling in his lap to make yourself comfortable. "I love you too. So, so much—I think I might explode," he breathes, slowly and needily, and you can feel his hardening cock press against your thigh.

You rise from your spot, throwing your legs on each side of him, basically straddling him, and you rub your clothed cunt against him. The groan that escapes him is so low, so guttural, that it makes your thighs quiver slightly—and he knows, so he places his big hands on your legs to keep you in place. Leaning down, you press your forehead on Bokuto's—and being the eager man he is, he licks his lips, pressing them over yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. It's sloppy, very sloppy—teeth clash together, tongues interwine, drool rolls from the corner of your mouth—but it's Bokuto. Feral, impatient, insatiable.

Your clothes disappear in a matter of seconds, as do his—his hands roam your chest, mouth hungrily nipping at the soft skin of your neck. Bokuto lets out a low growl and presses you flush against him, tipping your face down with the tip of his nose. His lips crash on yours again, and his intoxicating scent surrounds you. Grinding desperately against him, your wet folds rub against the sensitive skin of his cock—he stops you, helping you line your hole with it, palms squishing the soft fat of your ass. Once preparations are complete, he doesn't hesitate to slam your hips down on his cock, bottoming out in an instant and making you arch your back, shuddering violently as you cry out from the sudden intrusion. Bokuto rubs your back soothingly, catching the lobe of your ear between his teeth and nibbling at it.

"It's ok, baby, I'm here—hold onto me, just like that—I won't let you go," he mumbles inbetween kisses to your ear and jaw, and your nails scratch his back in an attempt to ground yourself. "Deep breaths, baby—that's it, you're doing great—just a bit more and I'll make you feel good, okay?" he promises, reaching to place a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. You nod weakly, placing your head on his shoulder as he cradles it with one of his hands. And just like he promised, the stretch transitions from painful to delicious, and you start moving your hips up and down his length—slowly, to thoroughy enjoy the moment. He holds you close, chests glued to one another, hearts almost hammering out of your chests. Your moans and whimpers fill the room, and Bokuto swallows each of them after he kisses you roughly, making sure you can feel him everywhere.

"Ko, 'm—'m cumming..." you gasp, your orgasm drawing closer, both from the size of his cock and the intimacy conveyed in such a simple, carnal act. He whispers an encouragement, watching you come undone from his ministrations. With a groan, he empties himself inside of you—panting gently, you relax in his arms as he hugs you closer to his chest, then grabs a blanket and covers both of your forms with it

"Ko, we need to clean up," you argue, vocie faltering as you can sense fatigue creeping up on you. He shushes you and places a loving kiss on your forehead.

"We can do that later," he counters. "You're such a good girl—good fuckin' girl. I love you. You were amazing."

You fall asleep smothered in kisses, surrounded by heat and held tight by the man of your dreams.

Bokuto adores you, with every fiber of his body.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto smut #haikyuu bokuto #[ minty’s kitchen treats — pepper ]#bokuto kōtarō

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artobotsrollout · 4 years

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So I’ve been reading the fic Stop Me by megadoomingir which is so good! (Very heavy but in a well done way and also bots getting therapy which is great.). But god the writing is top tier both in the feels and the funnies. Like... damn reading this had been so therapeutic for me wtf.

Like:

“I can assure you now, despite the volume with which Starscream is addressing me-"

"Optimus-slagging-Prime, you get over here right now and talk to me THIS INSTANT!"

"-he is very much fine, if a bit theatrical."

"TheATRICAL?!" came a loud squawk, "Don't you DARE describe ME as THEATRICAL!"

And soundwave is a friggin delight at the least expected moments. His goddamn references

And GOD the inside jokes and moments that continue are so good. Arcee’s dry banter. The nicknames and small passing comments (knockout’s commentary and flirting with anything that moves and is taller than him) Optimus just rolling with the punches. Knockout and Breakdown... just being KO and Breakdown. And just overall all the different dynamics and how characters behave with one another change depending on their relationship. Like how Stars is a sort of reluctant but caring mentor figure for some and a chaotic gremlin with others etc etc. Real neat to see.

Also Starscream repeatedly being like “EXCUSE?!? How DARE you be so empathetic and nice to me??? >:O.” Screamy being like a feral cat just going nuts with scratching where he has to be physically pried off is hilarious to me. And we get to hear him bitch about Megatron’s stupidity which is a delight

Daddimus Priming his team: “please lemme help. And you are all part of this family and you WILL be cared for. Oh wait? Me? PFf don’t you know patience and understanding only applies to everyone BUT me?” Optimus: makes everyone feel better. Optimus: shoulders heavy burdens without complaint. “I’m obviously the worst.”

Also wholesome friend recovery snuggles and contact?!? I love it so much.

Once I finish Imma do fanarts just you wait cause lord some of those moments are too good to not be drawn.

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hockeysrus · 5 years

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Victory Green

Reader: F Player: Jamie Benn (Dallas Stars) Rating: E (Very E) Summary: Captain Kink + Lingerie + Dirty Talk Words:

Please support my ko-fi, if you support just 3$ you get a 1,000 word self insert all for yourself with ANY player

Victory green, the colour of the Dallas Stars.

“You’re so good.” Jamie mumbled as he kissed up your thighs.

“Yeah, what about it, Captain?”

He growled a little bit and began nipping your thighs, “Call me that again.”

You exhaled, “Captain.”

You decided to wear victory green after Jamie came home from a roadie. The team won against Toronto so he was back in your arms. You wanted to surprise him with a little of the green you two have become so familiar with.

You wore dark green lingeries and knee high socks that had the team’s logo on it. You waited so long for him to come back and when he saw you, you found yourself on the edge of the bed being kissed by your loving boyfriend.

“Oh, baby, oh you look so good.” He purred.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Again.”

“Captain.” You laid down fully on the bed, letting him slowly pull of the underwear and throw them onto the floor.

“Yeah, that’s me, baby.” He leaned in between your legs and began to lick across your folds. Keeping his strong hands on his thighs to keep them spread out he continued to go down on you.

In an instant your fingers are tight in his hair, yanking on it gently as you pull yourself back up to a sitting position to get leverage.

“Jamie! Jamie!” You yelped.

He pulled away, “Sh, sh, sh, relax.” then went back to circling his tongue around your clit.

You sighed and titled your head back, you combed your fingers through his hair as your toes curled, “Oh Jamie, fuck, why are you so good at this.”

He dug his fingers into your thighs, the socks were slowly folding down your legs and you felt your breath come out in quick succession.

You began to roll your hips a little bit trying to get some more friction on your aching clit. You just wanted him so badly, your dumb boyfriend who is always away for games. You hated the distance but right now you fucking loved him.

He continued his work on you, with quick fingers he pulled the socks off of you and tossed them into a ball over his shoulder. He moved his hands up and down your calves in a slow pace.

“You taste so good.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” You remarked.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, “No, just you.” then went back to eating you out.

The sounds of your heavy breathing and him pleasuring you fill the room. You felt pleasure start to rise up in you, “Captain.”

Jamie growled in response and continued to pleasure you.

“I’m so close, Jamie, oh fuck.” You moaned, you scratched along his scalp as his pace became relentless.

It didn’t take long for you to be orgasming, your threw your head back and came. You dug your nails into his hair and his kept you still by your legs. When you started to come down from your high Jamie moved away from your pussy. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“How was that?”

“I think you ate out my soul.” You flopped back onto the bed.

He grinned and stood back up. You could see the bulge in his suit pants. He cupped it and said, “We’re not done, sweetheart. God, it’s been too long.”

He slowly undid his belt, took his shirt from tucked into his pants and yanked his tie off. He undid the buttons his his shirt and pulled off his socks. Leaving everything crumpled around him. He licked his lips and looked at you, “Take that bra off, you know I love you in a nice green colour, but not right now. I want to see all of you.”

You squirmed out of your bra and laid fully naked on the bed.

“That’s my perfect girl.” He cupped his clothed cock again and grinned, “So perfect.”

You didn’t think of yourself as perfect, but when Jamie said it you believed it 100%. You watched him slowly peel off his boxers and leave them on the floor before climbing onto the bed with you.

He laid on top of you and kissed you deeply, his hand running up and down your arms. It felt so good to have his lips on you again, you missed him so much. Sometimes the distance drove you crazy.

But, you weren’t thinking about that right now. You were thinking about him with you, on top of you, kissing you like you were the most precious thing in his life.

He continued to kiss you for a couple of more moments before he pulled away and smiled down on you, “Let’s get started.”

You smiled back at him. He pulled your legs around his waist and slowly entered you, you were still wet from your previous orgasm and him eating you out. You let out a soft moan.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Fuck, you feel so good. God, do you know how hard it is to think about you all the time and not have a boner.”

“I can only imagine.” You chuckle, “I bet you were probably trying to hide it while in the hotel room.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He started to rock his hips up into you. He lazily kissed as you kissed him back.

You moaned against the kiss and tried to roll over so you were on top. He stopped you and continued to kiss you.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes, “Then do your worst, Benn.”

His grin turned feral as he started to thrust harder into you, “You’re so good to me, baby. Fuck, you feel so good. You should wear my colours more often.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Go around the rink with nothing but some shorts and my jersey. Show every guy who works at the rink and every player on the team that you’re mine.” He ducked his head and started sucking marks onto your skin.

He began thrusting harder into you, your second orgasm approaching as you never fully came down from your first high.

“I’m so close, baby.” He grunted.

You dumbly nodded your head, your own orgasm coming soon as well. You held onto him tightly, his lips finding your neck once more.

It didn’t take long before you were curling your toes and riding you high once more. You loudly moaned out his name and he panted in your ear how proud of he was of you.

“I love you.”

He quickly finished on your stomach and laid beside you in a huff.

“Worn out, Benn?” You joked in between pants of breath.

“Takes a lot to wear me out.” He grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and help clean you up, he took his time and was delicate with his touches.

You smiled at the after care and laid there, letting him clean you up. Jamie was always good at that, delivering such amazing aftercare. You felt yourself start to doze off, still in the glow of your second orgasm.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered before kissing your forehead. You heard him leave for the bathroom, but by the time he got out you were fast asleep.

#jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #hockey imagines #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl oneshot #NHL Hockey #nhl

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raendown · 5 years

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All at the end! @madatobiweek day 6 prompt: animal instinct.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 7294 Rated: E Summary: Turning his head very carefully so as not to disturb the nose snuffling behind one ear now, Madara lifted both eyebrows and scoffed. “I very much doubt you can possibly think of anything to successfully bribe me with that would convince me to stay here and suffer through letting your new cat-brother sniff me head to toe.”

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Animal Instinct

Madara wasn’t sure if he could scowl any harder than he already was but he made sure to give it a try anyway as he lifted his hand to pound on his best friend’s front door for the fifth time. He could feel Hashirama’s chakra inside, it wasn’t like the man wasn’t home, and there was absolutely no way even a dead brick like him could sleep through all the racket Madara was kicking up out here. So why the hell was he not answering? Best friends were supposed to bend to each other’s whims at all hours of the day! Or at least he expected Hashirama to do so for him. He always had before so clearly he had signed on to continue doing the same for the rest of their lives.

When he finally sensed that familiar sensation of nature and growth coming closer Madara blew out a sigh of exasperation. At last he was getting the attention he deserved. He was, however, startled almost in to silence to have the door cracked open for an incredibly disheveled looking Hashirama to peek around it with a frantic light in his eyes.

“Can you not!?” he hissed. “Every time you knock it sets him off again! At this rate I won’t be able to salvage any of the furniture, let alone the drapes!”

“Eh? What the hell are you talking about? Let me in!”

“Good idea, maybe you can help me keep him contained!”

Hashirama opened the door just enough to pull him inside and carefully shut it behind him with as little noise as possible. Then he hurried off down the hall while beckoning for Madara to follow him. A little worried for his friend’s sanity, mostly just curious, Madara followed.

Of all the things for him to find in the living room he never could have guessed that it would be Tobirama hunkered down in a corner with his back to the wall and his lips peeled back from his teeth to hiss at them like a damn cat. Clothes in disarray, small bits of fabric and fluff clinging to him everywhere, he looked an absolute mess. The hair on his head almost seemed to stand on end as he arched his spine and actually yowled in warning when his brother tried to step back in to the room. Pausing in the doorway, Hashirama pouted.

“Aw come on, Tobi! It’s just me!”

Tobirama hissed and pressed further back in to the corner.

“I’ve got something you might like,” Hashirama called in a calming singsong voice, reaching in to his pocket with slow movements to pull out what Madara thought looked like a piece of sushi. “Here you are, little brother. All for you.” Very carefully he tossed the treat and Madara was flabbergasted to see Tobirama catch it with his teeth then half turn to chew through it with loud smacking sounds like a dog.

“What…the fuck is wrong with him?” he asked. Hashirama gave a sad little sigh and straightened up to inch further in to the room.

“Don’t know exactly yet. He came home from his mission like this. The two he was supposed to be on the assignment with lost track of him in the middle of a battle so it seems he made his way back here following familiar scents. Or maybe it just felt like home? I don’t know.”

“He’s acting like an animal.”

“Yeah whatever happened out there made him…I guess the word would be savage. Maybe feral. He seems to understand what I’m saying but he’s completely nonverbal himself and he’s acting entirely on instinct, from what I can tell. All reaction and no thought.”

Nodding slowly even though he didn’t actually understand what was going on, Madara finally peeled his eyes away from the madman in the corner and took in the state of the room itself. The drapes were torn down as Hashirama had mentioned, shredded and tossed in every direction. Furniture had been upturned and the rug that usually sat in the middle of the room had been dragged over to the corner for Tobirama to perch on top of it like a cat claiming its new bed. Chunks of furniture stuffing and the occasional handful of long brown hair littered throughout the room belied the violence all this chaos had involved.

Madara snickered, trying to imagine the squeal Hashirama would make at having some of his too-perfect hair pulled out. Just because they were friends did not mean that wasn’t funny. Clapping the other man on the back, he let out a chuckle that cut off immediately when he saw Tobirama shift focus over to him.

“Well, good luck with all this,” he said. Then he turned to leave because this was absolutely not his problem to deal with. Hashirama scrambled after him.

“No, wait! You’re just going to leave me!?”

“Uh…yes? He’s your brother, dimwit. I have no reason to get involved with this.”

Hashirama caught the front of his shirt and hit him with the best puppy eyes he’d ever seen. “But! But! Didn’t you say that you have a massive crush on him? Don’t you want to make sure he’s okay?”

“Shut up!” Madara screeched. “I am never drinking with you again! Stupid inhuman heavyweight drinker, getting shit out of me when I’m – breach of trust! That’s what this is! An unconstitutional confession! You took advantage of me when I was not myself!” Vindication filled him when he saw Hashirama droop but he should have known to watch out for what came next.

“Aw, Maddy, I didn’t realize you were so upset about it!” Without warning he launched himself forward to wrap both arms around Madara’s neck like a boa constrictor, not budging an inch when his victim began to screech in protest.

Distracted as they were, neither of them saw the movement of another figure approaching very carefully and very quietly until it was too late. Hashirama had yet to let go of Madara when they were both bowled over and knocked clear in to the hallway by more than two hundred pounds of solid muscle – muscle that snuffled curiously as it burrowed in to Madara’s hair and crawled over top of them with little care for the way Hashirama protested getting knees in his spine.

“Hashirama what the hell is he doing!?” Madara panicked more the closer Tobirama’s face got to his own.

“I don’t know! He’s been so standoffish until now!”

“Get him off me!”

“But he seems to like you,” Hashirama cooed, reaching for his brother’s hair and then snatching his hand back when the man snarled viciously.

As soon as the unwanted hand was out of his personal space Tobirama went back to snuffling at Madara until he was distracted with nosing at the ear he discovered hidden under all that hair. With a curious expression he licked it and then echoed the sound when Madara yowled in surprise. In an instant he was gone, scurrying off back to the living room while Madara threw Hashirama off his chest to sit up and rub frantically at the side of his head.

“What the hell!”

“You better not have enjoyed that!” Hashirama accused. “He’s not in his right mind!”

“Seriously? You think I–? Don’t be so gross!” Madara all but threw himself back on to his feet and stomped out of the hallway after their wild Senju while he grumbled under his breath. He was such a better friend than Hashirama was, going to make sure Tobirama wasn’t breaking more furniture instead of making insulting accusations!

He found the man he was looking for back in the same corner of the living room, curled on the floor like a dog with one hand crossed over the other and chin resting on them, eyes darting nervously back and forth. When Madara stepped in to his field of vision he narrowed his gaze and went completely still. It was at that point Madara realized that his animal analogy was just a bit off. Tobirama wasn’t a dog. Obviously he was a cat, a big annoying stupid cat who would be lashing his tail if he had one. Luckily Madara had lots of experience handling felines.

With deliberate casualness he refused to look over at the corner as he made his way towards the only chair not turned upside down where he deliberately arranged himself in the squashy cushions and questioned why he was even bothering to help with this. Sure, Hashirama was right, he did have a massive crush on this ungrateful asshole, but having a few undesired feelings didn’t automatically make him a good person willing to do favors for other people. He made sure to keep repeating that in his head as he watched Tobirama from the corner of one eye very slowly inch out of his corner and approach the chair, nose twitching.

It was stupidly cute.

Several minutes passed while Tobirama made his way across the room bit by bit, stopping every once in a while to sit back on his haunches and stare off in another direction like he was trying to prove he had no particular interest in Madara. Eventually he managed to crawl up the back of the chair and flop half of his body over the backrest while Hashirama watched from the doorway with a baffled expression.

“How did you do that?” he whined. Madara very carefully did not react to the nose burying itself against the top of his head.

“It wasn’t hard. You’re too enthusiastic and it was making him uncomfortable.”

“But I’m his brother!”

“And clearly he doesn’t even remember who he is at the moment, let alone you. Give him some space to just do his thing and he’ll be much more receptive to you.” Madara rolled his eyes when Hashirama sighed despondently. “I assume you have people looking in to what happened to him?”

His friend perked up with a nod, stepping in to the room so he could putter around replacing all the furniture. “Of course! His mission partner’s gave us a location and description and one of them even had something with the enemy’s scent. We’ve got a team of Inuzuka tracking them down so that we can figure out how to reverse whatever this is.”

“Excellent. So I’m not needed any further now that he’s calm?”

“Oh come on, please stay,” Hashirama said. “Look, he’s so much more comfortable with you than he is with me! He likes you!”

“No, he likes that I’m more stationary than you are.” Madara did his best to ignore the fact that despite Hashirama’s excitable personality he was actually the calm one in their friendship, what with his lack of anger issues.

“What if I bribe you?”

Turning his head very carefully so as not to disturb the nose snuffling behind one ear now, Madara lifted both eyebrows and scoffed. “I very much doubt you can possibly think of anything to successfully bribe me with that would convince me to stay here and suffer through letting your new cat-brother sniff me head to toe.”

Hashirama grinned a very dangerous grin but both of them froze when they were interrupted by a knock on the front door, hardly daring to breathe as they waited for Tobirama to be set off again by the noise. To their surprise he did nothing more than shove his nose a little deeper in the hair he seemed so fascinated by. Madara breathed a sigh of relief as Hashirama pottered away to see who was here. Whoever it was had just saved him from what was sure to be a terrible fate at the whims of that evil grin his best friend only pulled out on special occasions. Sometimes he forgot that Hashirama knew him better than anyone in the world except Izuna and that he was just as shameless is using that knowledge to get his way. Stupid innocent face! Curse the day he let that face trick him in to being friends!

When Hashirama came back in to the room about ten minutes later he was holding something behind his back with one hand, which was definitely not a good sign. He should have known better than to think a quick distraction would save him.

“Anyone important?” Madara ventured.

“Yes, actually. That was a runner from T&I. The retrieval team just came back with the two shinobi who survived the battle that caused whatever is happening. Either one of them could be the person who did this to Tobi but neither of them are talking so the interrogators want me to come down and supervise but if I do that then poor Tobi will be left here all alone.”

Smelling a trap right away, Madara scowled and began to slowly extricate himself from the chair. “No. Uh-uh. Absolutely not! I am not babysitting him while you’re gone! He has other relatives for you to fool in to that madness!”

“But what if I do this?” Hashirama very slowly approached Tobirama, distracted as he was trying to cling to Madara’s thick hair, and popped something down over his head that immediately diverted his attention. When he thumped down on to the floor and batted at the strands of his own hair Madara choked.

“Is that…a headband…with cat ears on it?”

“Why yes, it is!” Hashirama beamed at seeing him frozen to the spot. “Thanks so much, Maddy! You’re a true friend!” Just like that he was gone, leaving Madara alone with his worst nightmare.

“Your brother plays dirty,” he informed the man-cat now staring up at him with wide pretty eyes and two cute little ears perched on his head.

So this was it, he thought. This was to be his doom.

It wasn’t all that bad at first. As cats were wont to do, Tobirama spent a great deal of time ignoring him for the first little while. Now that he understood the only human left in the room meant him no harm he apparently found it more interesting to explore his territory in a way humans never would. With openly curious body language he shoved his nose in to nearly every crevice he could find, sniffing and batting and occasionally head-butting things that particularly confused him. It took fifteen minutes for Madara to relax, thinking that maybe this wouldn’t be half as terrible as he expected it to be.

And of course that’s when Tobirama decided that he was a lap cat. With laser focus he left off whatever he was investigating and crawled his way back across the floor with that weirdly awkward gait, all four feet on the floor in a way human limbs just weren’t meant to be used. Then without so much as a mew of warning he crawled right up over the edge of the chair and flopped himself across Madara’s lap.

“Uh…what the fuck?” Madara grimaced. “No! Look, you’re cute and all but – fuck. Just fuck. You can’t sleep here!”

Tobirama lowered him with the single deadliest expression he’d ever been on the receiving end of, heavy lidded eyes and a soft contented smile, and with not a shred of apology he began to purr.

“You’re either doing this on purpose to torture me or later you’re going to torture me for letting you do this. Either way I really don’t win here, do I?” Madara huffed when his words continued to go ignored.

Perhaps he could have lived with it if Tobirama simply laid still like a good little kitty. It would have been awkward but entirely survivable. Unfortunately the universe was just not on his side today. Tobirama spent five solid minutes trying to find the perfect comfortable position and when he finally found it he ruined all his efforts by squirming around on to his back so he could bat at the fringe dangling around Madara’s face.

Not at all impressed, Madara gave him a grumpy look. “I am not a feather toy,” he insisted. Tobirama didn’t listen. He continued to purr and play until Madara grew frustrated and reached up to massage the space between his eyebrows where he could already feel a headache forming.

His fingers never reached his face, caught instead by two pale hands that seemed to think they were paws at the moment and drawn back down for Tobirama to inspect it with unnecessary concentration. It was cute for perhaps fifteen seconds before Tobirama pulled his fingers a little closer and licked them.

“Okay! Nope! Not happening!” Keeping his eyes away from the pout staring up at him was one of the hardest things he’d ever done but it was nowhere near as hard as the thing that would have cropped up between them if he just sat there and let Tobirama lick his damn fingers, putting all sorts of inappropriate images in his head. That was not at all what he should be thinking about while the man was out of his right mind and unable to control his own actions. Hell, it wouldn’t be appropriate even if he was completely himself!

Madara might not care for most boring social rules but he was a pretty big fan of the ones that stopped him from making a fool of himself in front of a man who very clearly did not return his interest. Sure they had learned to get along a little better over the past couple of years and yes maybe there was that one night when he thought Tobirama might have been implying they should have dinner together but nothing had ever come of it and that was as much proof as he needed to confirm that he was the only one with taste in this village. Clearly the one his heart had chosen did not share his refined tastes or else they would have already been out on several dates by now.

A quiet mewl from his lap tugged at his heartstrings but Madara told himself to stay strong. If he looked down he knew he would give in even if he wasn’t sure what he would be giving in to. He’d probably end up giving his fingers back to be laved at by that pretty pink tongue.

When cute whining didn’t get him whatever it was he wanted Tobirama huffed and began squirming around again while Madara closed his eyes and prayed for patience. By the time the cat-man settled again he had somehow worked himself around to press his belly against Madara's chest with his legs curled up underneath him and straddling an unwilling lap, torso draped over the back of the chair, entirely uncaring for the fact that he was half-suffocating the man whose head was now trapped between chest and cushions. He refused to budge so much as an inch while Madara worked his head far enough to one side that he could breathe again.

Because the universe hated him, that was of course the position Tobirama chose to fall asleep in, keeping him trapped there no matter his gentle struggles until Hashirama came home almost an hour later. His friend stopped in the doorway upon spotting them there and the look of eager satisfaction on his face drained away to be replaced with hearty amusement.

“Comfy?” he asked. Madara bared his teeth.

“Help me!”

“You don’t look like you need any help at all, actually.” Hashirama tucked his hands in to his sleeves and settled back on to his heels. “I wish I had a camera. I would frame this and hang it on my front door. The outside of the front door.”

Regretting all of his life choices, Madara didn’t really have any room to deflate since he was already pretty squished. “I hate you. We’re not friends anymore.”

Hashirama gasped and sank down in to a squat where he began to pout at the floor. “Oh no! I didn’t mean it, I promise! You guys are just so adorable together like this and I wanted to remember it!”

“Ugh, fine, there’s no need to be so pathetic about it. I guess I didn’t mean it.”

“Excellent!” Popping back to his feet as if nothing happened, Hashirama beamed at him. “Anyway, the one that did this to our poor Tobi broke pretty easily under questioning and he told me how to help get him back to normal. Are you sure you wouldn’t like for me to wait a day or two? He does look pretty cute in those ears.”

Madara glared as hard as he could. “Just because you’re right does not make you right! Wait…ugh, you know what I mean! He would kill us both when he found out and it wouldn’t even be my fault! I am not dying for your stupidity – at least not yet; I’m not convinced that I won’t end up dying for that anyway at some point, what with all the idiocy you drag me in to on a daily basis.”

“There’s no need to be cruel about it,” Hashirama whined pathetically. Madara ignored him.

“So how do we get him back to his usual stuck up self? And how do we get him off me first because I am not having him wake up to find himself draped over my lap!”

“Oh that’s easy. Just start sitting up and when he protests give him a scratch behind the ears!”

“He’s not an actual cat,” Madara pointed out.

“Just trust me,” Hashirama said with a shrug. “It’s worked for years.”

After staring hard for a few moments, desperately looking at Hashirama so he wouldn’t start picturing anything else that might cause some sort of excitement, Madara took as deep of a breath as he could manage and tried to sit forward. Tobirama did protest. If he had actual claws they would have dug in to the fabric of the chair cushions to hold himself in place. When he gave a low growling noise of warning Madara reached up to scratch him behind one ear as instructed and watched with fascination as he slithered down to melt in a small puddle across the lap underneath him.

Standing up completely took a little more effort and not a few soothing head scratches but eventually Madara was on his feet and somehow managed to lead his new pet over to where Hashirama stood watching the whole debacle from the doorway.

“I…don’t know that I want to be here for this at all,” he murmured. “Do try and send warning ahead if he goes on the war path, will you?”

“Wait, you’re leaving me to deal with him alone? What if he doesn’t sit still for me to get him back to normal?” Hashirama tried to catch him but Madara slipped past and made a desperate break for the front door.

“Not my problem!” he called over one shoulder as he escaped in to the outside world.

Of course, just because it wasn’t his problem didn’t mean the issue was entirely off his mind. No matter what Madara did over the next few hours he found his thoughts constantly drifting back to the brothers he had left behind and wondering if everything had gone alright. Surely Hashirama would let him know if things went badly or if Tobirama ended up in the hospital somehow. Or perhaps he wouldn’t because Madara was not family and there really wouldn’t be any need to contact him in an emergency he wouldn’t be any help with.

It took a great deal of effort for Madara to keep himself focused on whatever he attempted to fill the rest of his day with. The book he tried to read didn’t seem nearly as interesting as the last time he put it down, not when the main character kept turning in to someone else in his mind’s eye. He gave a bit of thought to running through a few kata routines to calm himself down but he knew as well as the next person how badly one could injure themselves if they were distracted during training. Izuna was out of the village at the moment so he couldn’t even pop round to his brother’s house and demand a proper distraction!

At some point he tried to get a bit of his paperwork done but after a full hour he couldn’t recall a single thing he had just looked over. Eventually he simply gave up and went to make dinner. It came out half burnt and half raw with his inability to pay attention but it was only rice and vegetables so he owned his mistakes and choked it down anyway. No sense in wasting food just because he couldn’t get his head out of the clouds.

Dusk lay heavy over the village, just on the cusp of truly becoming nighttime, when a light hand knocked on his front door. Madara was so grateful for a distraction he didn’t even bother sensing ahead of himself to see who was there. It didn’t matter who was there.

Or he didn’t think it would until he opened the door to find Tobirama looking back at him with a bashfully ashamed expression on his face, weight shifting back and forth between his feet.

“Evening,” he murmured.

“Yeah. Hi.” Madara swallowed down the urge to ask where the cat ears had gone and asked, “Did you need something?”

“As I understand it, I acted quite inappropriately towards you earlier today while I was…not myself. I came to apologize. And I suppose to thank you for handling the situation so well. Hashirama tells me that you were quite helpful in keeping me calm.”

Madara nodded slowly and avoided eye contact. “Uh-huh.”

“Right. Well, thank you. For that.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of them paused, awkwardly standing in the doorway as they both tried to think of something to say.

“Are you…good now?” Madara asked eventually.

“Yes, all back to normal. Mostly. A few, ah, embarrassing behavioral urges but nothing that won’t fade over time according to the one who did this to me.” He didn’t look all that confident in taking the word of his opponent but there really weren’t any other options for him in this situation. Madara carefully did not allow himself to ask what sort of urges were still present.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?” When Tobirama gave him a look of surprise he cleared his throat and looked away again. “Ah, just to make sure someone’s watching you. Since, you know, since you said that there were still some lingering effects.”

Tobirama almost looked disappointed somehow. “Ah, yes. Well if you don’t mind. I do like tea.”

Instead of beating himself around the head for blurting out the spur of the moment offer he’d had no intentions of making, Madara waved his guest inside and closed the door behind them before leading the way to the kitchen where he very much hoped the smell of burnt rice wasn’t too strong. No need to give the impression that he was a terrible cook. Usually he was…not exactly great but at least decent. He didn’t generally burn his meals and that was better than he could say for a lot of people.

Boiling the water and preparing the tea leaves gave him something to do while Tobirama settled himself at the table and took in the room around them. Then they were seated across from each other with steaming mugs of Sencha. Madara wracked his brain for something to say that wouldn’t insult his guest in to leaving. In all the time they’d known each other he’d never had an excuse to invite Tobirama in to his home without being obvious that he was flirting or at least working himself up to it. Now that he’d opened the door by accident he should take advantage, set the groundwork to maybe open up a few more doors in the future, but that would only work if he could think of anything to say.

“I didn’t…do anything offensive while you were there, did I?” Tobirama’s voice broke the silence and Madara looked up from his tea with relief.

“No. What do you mean by ‘offensive’?”

“I’m not sure. Anija was being quite ambiguous about the exact nature of my actions but I have some vague sensory memories that don’t paint a very good picture.” He flushed and Madara tried to focus passed how lovely it looked on his skin.

“That would frustrate the fucking hell out of me,” he blurted.

Surprisingly, Tobirama only huffed out a quiet laugh. “Indeed, it’s very frustrating.”

“What do you remember?” Madara leaned forward a little more when he saw that pretty blush kick it up a notch. This had to be interesting.

“I remember, ah, there was a person there with me? I can’t say if it was you or Hashirama but someone was there who I found particularly…grounding. Soothing. I wanted to be near them and I think I remember…”

“Remember what?”

Tobirama looked towards to ceiling with shame. “Climbing on them. I can’t decide which is worse. Did I embarrass myself by climbing in to your lap? Or did I crawl in to my own big brother’s lap like a child asking for bed time stories? I don’t even know if I want you to tell me the answer.”

Since he said he wasn’t sure Madara did intend to hold back on saying anything. He intended to! It wasn’t his fault that the edges were blurring between what he wanted and what he thought he could have.

“It was me,” he heard himself say and he cringed at the same time Tobirama did.

“Ah. Well then. I cannot apologize enough for doing something that would make you so uncomfortable.” The poor man looked like he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him where he sat.

Madara understood that feeling more than anyone and his first instinct was to soothe it away by assuring his guest, “No, I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

“You weren’t?”

“No!”

“You were completely comfortable with me sitting in your lap?”

“Yes!”

He was already nodding enthusiastically when he realized what he had just implied with that admission. Suddenly it was his own face blushing, although he was much less graceful about it with his tendency to go tomato red from chin to hairline. There was no point in hoping he could backtrack on that before Tobirama put two and two together; the man was renowned for his genius, after all.

Shrinking low in his seat, he gave a nervous titter. “Is there any chance we can pretend you didn’t hear me say that?”

“Interesting.” Tobirama cocked his head to one side with a strange light growing in his eyes. “You were comfortable with that, which must mean that you are comfortable with me. Would you-…hmm.”

“Would I what?” If the man didn’t finish that thought Madara was likely to panic. Had he just ruined everything he’d only just seen the chance of trying to build?

Standing from the table, Tobirama’s lips parted in a slow, predatory grin. “I would prefer to show than tell.”

That really didn’t clear anything up. In fact, that was probably even more ominous. Madara wondered if maybe he should run or at least rescue the Sencha somehow as Tobirama made his way around the small kitchen with prowling steps until he stood over his prey with narrowed eyes all but burning in the low light.

And the next thing Madara knew they were kissing, wild and messy, fingers buried in his hair and teeth scraping along his bottom lip. Tobirama tasted like tea but his actions were far less civilized. The first helpless moan of startled pleasure that slipped up Madara's throat was almost like a signal for the man to crawl in to his lap and box him in to his chair with solid thighs that just begged for him to sink his nails in to. Judging by the sound that tore itself up out of Tobirama’s chest, he seemed to like that idea.

Something in the back of his mind, probably his conscience or whatever, told him that this was probably one of those behaviors that were influenced by the lingering after effects of the jutsu. If he were a good man he would have stopped to make sure that Tobirama was still in his right mind. One thing he had never pretended to be, however, was a good man. The vacant lack of high thought process was something he had noted before when the man thought he was a giant cat but the same could not be said of the hot eyes looking down at him now. If he was a little more horny than usual and willing to act on a thought he otherwise might not, well, who was Madara to turn him down?

Focus became difficult around the time fingers began working their way under his collar. Madara squirmed under the touch until Tobirama finally succeeded in untying his obi and managed to pull apart the panels of his yukata. Two hands were definitely more distracting than one. Somewhere around arching his back and yelping with surprise when enterprising fingers discovered his nipples, Madara never even noticed his guest removing the other hand for the brief second it took to make a quick sign. Nor did he notice the clone that popped in to existence until he heard the sound of his cupboards being rummaged through.

Instead of any kind of embarrassment at being caught, the clone very calmly blinked back at him and asked where he kept his olive oil. Madara gurgled out something that vaguely sounded like words but he was much too distracted with the mouth nipping a line up the side of his neck to make himself coherent. It didn’t seem like Tobirama minded. His clone went back to rummaging while the original did a thorough job of removing Madara's brain through his ears.

Or maybe it just felt like that because he was already melting under all these glorious touches.

A quiet ‘ah-ha!’ was his only warning before the clone appeared behind him and pulled his chair out several inches. With their combined bulk on the seat that should have been at least a bit difficult but the ease with which he maneuvered their weight had Madara whimpering.

Tobirama slipped off of his lap to accept the bottle of olive oil his clone seemed to have located at last. With a long glance darkened with lust the clone disappeared and Madara had a total of five seconds to clear his head and wonder what was actually about to happen. Not that he was particularly against whatever it was, just that he did always like to be prepared. Generally he was always in control in most of his intimate encounters but it was clear that he was absolutely not going to be now.

Should he have been so turned on by that? Because he was.

What small amount of fog he was able to shake from his mind was brought back doubled the instant Tobirama got hands on him again. Madara went easily along with being pulled out of his chair. The surprise was immediately being pushed face down on the table and having the yukata still hanging from his shoulders all but torn away. He closed his eyes and groaned when his pants were opened and pulled down without ceremony, barely allowed a moment between kicking them away and arching his spine under the nails that racked down his back.

Strong hips pressed him harder against the table and Madara swallowed thickly. Tobirama was still completely dressed. He’d always thought there was something incredibly hot about one partner being completely clothed while they fucked the other completely naked – it was just that usually he wasn’t the one that was naked and bent over his own kitchen table. It only took a sharp bite to one shoulder and oil-slick fingers in the cleft of his ass for him to decide that he really truly did not mind.

Madara shifted his weight impatiently under the soft touches tracing his entrance but fell still immediately when Tobirama snarled just behind his ear.

“Shit, sorry,” his partner gasped in a rough voice. “I can’t help it.”

“Don’t help it; don’t help anything; don’t change a fucking thing!” Madara babbled on between soft whines, bucking helplessly each time he thought one of the fingers teasing him might finally slip inside.

When they did it was without warning and his entire body quivered as Tobirama sank one finger in up to the second knuckle at the same time as he bit down on a place he had already left teeth marks. Madara garbled out several disconnected vowels, pressing his hips back to keep that finger in him for as long as possible, rolling his eyes up when it was pulled away only to sink back in and curl. Not quite in to that one spot he knew would make him see stars but close enough that he could already hear his own voice begging for more.

Tobirama obliged him, of course, but only when it suited him. He still took a couple of minutes to make sure the area was properly stretched before adding a second finger but it was worth the wait. Almost immediately he was curling them just far enough to have him howling and bucking no matter how little purchase he was able to get on the polished surface of his kitchen table.

By the time his partner was three fingers deep Madara was begging indiscriminately without any trace of shame and the back of both shoulders were littered with bite marks.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tobirama growled as though only just now hearing the pleas that had been echoing off the walls of the kitchen for the past several minutes. He soothed all the teeth marks he’d left behind with licks and kisses, rumbling pleasantly over marking his territory so well.

“Gods yes please, please, fuck me already!”

“Hmm. Since you said please.” He nuzzled in to the skin behind Madara's ear and the sound that he made could almost be called a purr. It was a happy sound and that thrilled Madara almost as much as the sound of clothes rustling when the man finally leaned away to open up his own trousers, still completely dressed up to now.

Then there was a blunt pressure right where Madara needed it most and he saw stars behind his eyelids brighter and brighter with every inch of cock that slid inside. Not the biggest he’d ever taken but just exactly the right size for pleasure, perfect for rocking back on to draw a lewd moan out of himself before Tobirama caught his hips and forced him in to stillness again.

No matter how he wriggled and tried to buck Tobirama never gave him so much as an inch. Madara had to admit that it only made things so much better, forced to keep still and just let himself get fucked slowly, helpless to the whims of the man behind him. Letting go of control had never been so hot before.

And Tobirama certainly made it clear that he was the one in control. Caught up in the mess of his own primal instincts, there was something almost animalistic about the way he grunted and drove himself deeper and deeper in to the body before him. Feral, as Hashirama had called him earlier. It was certain an apt word for the look on his face. Each time Madara was able to turn his head and catch a quick glimpse of the man it had him shuddering to see the dark light in those deep red eyes, the way his lips were peeled back from his teeth in a rigid snarl of pleasure. Everything about him screaming ‘alpha male’ and for the first time in his life Madara wanted only to submit.

It was a good choice. The second he went limp entirely Tobirama seemed to sense that he had won something. Perhaps that he had won Madara for his own, as his animal hindbrain seemed determined to accomplish. With a noise that rumbled up from the deepest part of his chest he pulled out entirely, shifted his weight, and then slammed back in for a direct hit against Madara's prostate.

The change in angle brought with it a change in tempo and their slow, steady fucking became a frantic rutting as they both raced towards their end together. Madara shook and trembled with every blow against his prostate knowing that he would not need to be so much as touched to get what he wanted as long as Tobirama could last just a little bit longer. If he were able to pay just a little more attention to the desperation in his partner’s grunts he might have realized that Tobirama was indeed hanging on by a thread just for the sheer pleasure of feeling him topple over the edge first.

He came finally with a scream that probably shook the rafters, spilling between his belly and the table without a single care for how hard he would need to scrub that mess to sanitize the area later. By the time his vision was no longer full of white static he realized that Tobirama had followed him over the edge and was now draped across his back pressing messy kisses against the side of his neck.

“Fuck,” he mumbled tiredly.

“We did,” Tobirama agreed in a floaty sort of voice. “Are you tired? I am tired. I would like to nest now.”

“Nest?”

“…rest?” The questioning note in his voice said he was probably asking whether that word was more appropriate and that he wasn’t completely sure where he’d gone wrong. Still a little lost in his instincts, apparently.

Madara didn’t mind so much. With a sleepy smile he managed to tilt his head up to smile over one shoulder and say, “Help me clean up and you can nest here for the night.”

His answer was another purring sound and the slow drag of a soft cock slipping out of him.

Together they cleaned up both Madara and the table, Tobirama wiping himself down discreetly and shoving himself back in to his pants while Madara strutted around in the buff, happy to show off all the marks he had earned during their little romp. When everything was as tidy as they had the energy for he led the way down to his bedroom where they both made a cursory effort to rinse their mouths and faces in the bathroom before collapsing in to bed.

After a bit of squirming and resettling they eventually ended up with Madara lying on his side while Tobirama curled around him, several inches higher so he could bury his face in Madara's long mane while still holding him close with both arms.

“Mine,” he purred quietly. Madara shuddered pleasantly. That was one question answered.

“If you want me to be.”

“Mine.”

“Right. Glad that’s settled.” Madara closed his eyes and turned his head down towards the pillow a little more to hide the stupid grin on his face. Whoever the idiot was who had been stupid enough to catch Tobirama in a non-deadly jutsu that encouraged this sort of behavior, he would have to thank the man tomorrow.

And then kill him, of course, because if he belonged to Tobirama then it stood to reason that Tobirama also belong to him in turn and Madara always looked after his own.

#rae writes #madatobiweek2019 #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #fanfiction

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queenofeden · 5 years

Text

Day 9: Pet Play

Pairing: Nadia Satrinava/Female Apprentice

Word Count: 1102

Summary:

"Wouldn’t you love to have everyone out there see how you love to be on your knees for me? On display like the prized pet you are?"

✨ My Ko-Fi // Read on AO3 ✨

Nadia tugs the leash. “Come along.”

The leash in turn tugs at the delicate chains that hang between them, connecting the lead to Laurel’s nipples, held in place by rough clamps. The bells that dangle from them jingle merrily at the movement, a cheery contrast to the pitiful whine that slips past Laurel’s lips.

She takes one hobbled step -- hand, then knee -- and then a second. It’s harder than she’d thought it would be, with her calves bound up tightly against her thighs. The wide plug in her ass shifts with every movement, the long, cat-like tail hanging from it tickling over her bare skin. She grits her teeth against the ‘O’ of the gag in her mouth, grateful, at least for the time being, for its presence.

“Heel.”

Laurel stops.

“So well trained,” Nadia praises, as she walks a slow circle around Laurel. “Tell me, are you enjoying yourself, pet?”

A trick question. Laurel knows she is not permitted to speak like this, even if she could around the leather wrapped ring in her mouth. She dares to glance up at Nadia, blinking dolefully. Nadia sighs, wraps the length of the lead around her hand another loop.

“What do happy girls do to show their mistresses their appreciation?”

Laurel blinks in confusion. With the toe of her shoe, Nadia pushes gently at her hip, making her rock slightly in place.

Oh.

Realization washes over her, and Laurel flushes hot, as if yet another layer of humiliation over this is simply one too much for her to handle. Slowly, she lowers her front half to the ground, until her ass rises high into the air, and begins to sway her hips back and forth. The dangling tail swishes -- wags -- between her legs.

Nadia laughs, bright as the bells that ring from Laurel’s nipples. “Oh, very good. What a clever girl you are.”

Her hand strokes over the curve of Laurel’s ass, nails dragging against the skin. She jumps and mewls, pushing her behind back into Nadia’s touch, begging for more.

“Sweet, too,” Nadia muses. Her touch reaches Laurel’s hair, scratching her scalp. “And so very pretty, though a little messy, hm?”

Nadia’s touch recedes, having reached the drool on her chin and chest, much to Laurel’s disappointment. The leash yanks. Her nipples burn, but she sits back up on her hands once more. Two tugs and Nadia begins to walk again, clearly expecting her to follow. Another step, then another, focused entirely on moving her body forward as they make a slow lap around the room.

“I would love to take you out of our room like this, perhaps for a nice walk in the garden?” Nadia’s voice is wistful, wicked. “Wouldn’t you like that, sweetheart? Wouldn’t you love to have everyone out there see how you love to be on your knees for me? On display like the prized pet you are? Then everyone would see how obedient you are, how completely and utterly I own you.”

Laurel sobs. It isn’t fair to tease her this way. Nadia knows full well how that particular thought sets her aflame, her cunt clenching empty and dripping. They can’t, they both know that, but it is enough to pretend sometimes -- an empty promise better than none at all. The image it creates still serves its purpose, sparking something utterly feral, a base instinct, in Laurel. Her body positively aches with want. It takes all her wherewithal to keep her eyes focused entirely on Nadia’s heels a foot or so ahead of her, toe tapping impatiently.

“Is this as fast as you can go?” Nadia asks, her tone sharp. Laurel shivers, tries to totter forward faster, hand-knee, hand-knee , knee-hand and stumbles, knees slipping out from under her. She lands on her side, not hard -- all the pain comes from the sudden cruel jerk of the chain as the clamps are pulled, stretching and biting into her nipples. The bells jangle, and Laurel howls through her gag, chest heaving as the pain rips through her like ice-cold fire.

Nadia is there in an instant, pulling Laurel close, practically into her lap, to look her over. “Darling, are you alright?” she asks, any pretense of their play long gone. Buckle undone, the gag slides from between her lips. She is no longer Pet, and Nadia her Mistress, they are simply Laurel and Nadia once more.

Laurel thinks, shifting her back and hips, then nods. The sting still lingers, her chest tender, but the worst of it has faded away, mingling with the pleasant buzz in the back of her skull easily enough. Nadia looks unconvinced, hands hovering over her breasts.

“These should come off,” she says, already reaching for the clamps, but Laurel shakes her head, pulling her chest away much as she can. She could speak now, if she wanted to. She doesn’t want to.

Nadia frowns. “You don’t want them off?”

Laurel shakes her head again.

“You want to keep going, don’t you?”

A nod again, enthusiastic. Laurel smiles, and with her hand she reaches for Nadia’s and gives it two firm squeezes, their silent signal that all is well.

Nadia sighs and strokes the tangled hair from Laurel’s face. “You’re sure that you aren’t hurt?”

Laurel nods, slowly this time, rocking back on her haunches. She wishes she could kiss every worried line from Nadia’s face, but proper kisses she will save for when they are truly done. She settles instead for butting her head gently under Nadia’s chin, nosing into the juncture between neck and shoulder. She can feel how Nadia’s pulse quickens under her lips.

“Oh, I see. Is that how it’s going to be?” Nadia’s hands stroke up and down Laurel’s sides, and Laurel groans so low in her throat it may as well be a purr. A quiet chuckle rumbles in Nadia’s chest. “Yes, yes, very well.”

Laurel falls back, sitting up prettily on her knees, back arched and breasts thrust forward the way she knows Nadia likes best. She reaches for the dangling leash and grips it between her teeth, presenting it with a jut of her chin. Nadia gives her a sweet, indulgent smile, rises to her feet, and places a hand on the top of Laurel’s head, scratching down behind her ears until she can lightly tilt her face up.

She takes the lead from Laurel’s lips and loops it over her other hand once more. “Let us finish your walk, and then I think a treat is in order? What do you say, my darling?”

With a final nuzzle of Nadia’s hand, Laurel begins to crawl.

#the arcana #the arcana game #nadia satrinava #nadia x apprentice #arcanagame #my fic #kinktober2019 #nadia

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onefishtwwofish · 5 years

Text

Part one:

You are sitting in your bed that is set up in the space of Feferi’s bedroom. You find that the two of you exist rather harmoniously in the room together. You do not spend every waking moment existing in her bedroom; you let yourself roam about in the hive, usually lounging around in the living room.

This was not about your existence within this hive.

Okay, maybe—

No, no, it was not.

You are sitting in this bed heavily mulling over some plans for this visit to the council. You are doing your damn fucking best not to have your emotions cloud any rational Thing to do here, but so far it is not working. Lace’s remark from that day is stuck in your head, repeating over and over, even if she did not mean for it to be taken that way. You do not want to be undesirable; an instant throw away to anything but a basic friendship. You want relationships to develop and grow; you are not a static character. You have a personality and you should have people to share that with.

Right? That is not a selfish want, right?

You grind your teeth, furrowed brows etching your face into disapproval and anger. This stupid RULE. You are being punished for a basic fucking need and it is not jiving with you, bro-kos. You are not happy, and neither is anyone else who is forced to comply with this rule. The secrets; the hiding, none of this is great! It is sure doing a number on your mental stability too. Allegedly, this rule is supposed to keep you sane. Sane how? You are not sane! You are extremely compromised! Not very helpful for this job! Trying to reason with these assholes has not worked. Your efforts are brushed to the side, and you have let it.

Not anymore. You will not be swept to the side. You are the goddamn head of the military. You have power, and you are going to fucking use it.

You search through your ‘dex, bringing out a ring containing your transformations from anons you have gathered. You slip it on and crack the ring to your incubus charm. This form lets you walk. Your tail whips against the metal, you move the blanket off your legs, and let your feet brush against the cold floor. You inhale roughly, filling like fog in your lungs. Your tail continues to lash as you stand, ripples of violet flush through your body in fury, and a bit of hunger. You need a change of clothes and you are good to go as far as going fucking feral is concerned.

There is the doubt if what you are doing is rational as you surf through your closet. Would this prove to them that the rule is just? The lack of legitimate relationships and all the secrecy, it is driving you mad. The loneliness from the isolation is literal pain. Perhaps the anger you are planning to unleash is irrational, and there is a better way to go about it. Although, you have done every other rational action to do with no avail. It is time to be irrational, you guess. It is the only way things get done in this fucking system; the only thing people listen to. Nice is overlooked, rational and calm are taken advantage of, and your patience is wearing thin.

You are fastening your boots before you rest your elbows on your knees. You find yourself back at the question. Is this rational? Is your frustration just? Is this a good idea? You sit up with a hollow breath, laying back against the bed. You stare up at the ceiling. If this falls through, what will happen to you? You cannot leave the library. Maybe you are thinking too much right now. Less thinking and more doing, right? You remain unsure.

You pull out your palmhusk, turning on your side.

----

[CA has begun trolling CT!]

CA: hey

CT: D--> Evening CT: D--> Cannot sleep again I presume it is late

CA: wwell CA: in a wway yeah CA: im at the library right now

CT: D--> Any reason in particular CT: D--> Are you spending time with Zuanak

CA: no CA: god maybe i should talk to her about this too

CT: D--> Will you be less opaque CT: D--> What is going on

CA: i wwant to fight the council

CT: D--> Pardon

CA: i wwant to fight the council CA: that stupid rule limitin literally evvery social thing in existence because a their opinion CA: its CA: its not right CA: im sittin here being passivve about it and slowwly ruinin myself CA: im goin fuckin insane pedrii CA: i had an absolute mental fuckin collapse the other day because i had to tell her about my quadrants CA: lack thereof

CT: D--> I see CT: D--> How will you go about fighting them in a pacifist manner

CA: wwell CA: im not

CT: D--> Ailean, dearest CT: D--> Physically fighting them will not pan out well in your favor CT: D--> You know this as well as I CT: D--> It will not look good for your reputation either as a peaceful activist

CA: my reputation CA: honest to fuck i couldnt givve the slightest expression a thought about my reputation at the moment CA: if this rule is not fixed soon it wwont fuckin matter if im tryin to be a peaceful activvist because there wwont be anything left a my mental stability to sustain that levvel a patience and self control CA: bein kind and nice and peaceful wwith such a species as trolls and all a this society in the fuckin first place is not CA: easy CA: its easier to be constantly vviolent and angry and go fuckin ballistic

CT: D--> At ease

CA: dont you fuckin at ease me

CT: D--> Ah CT: D--> Apologies

----

You are sitting up now, staring down at your phone. You remain in the fog of uncertainty.

What’s the correct thing to do here?

Your status falls idle in the IMs and you set your phone to the side, running tired fingers through your hair.

#ail / action #ask to tag //

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raendown · 5 years

Link

Commission for @cassieeeeanne.

Pairing: KakashiSakura Word count: 3792 Rated: E Summary: Kakashi proposes a naughty little challenge inspired by something he read in Icha Icha and Sakura takes to this new game just a bit better than he expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Icha Icha Made Me Do It

It seemed like such a good idea, very sexy and very risqué in all the right ways, right up until they were both standing on the front porch in a pool of brilliant sunshine and it finally hit home that he was going to have to walk through public like this. That was about the point Kakashi started questioning his life decisions.

For instance: what in the world had possessed him to fall in love with a smart, strong-willed, deliciously attractive woman whose personality managed a uniquely perfect blend of good work ethic and flexible fun? The only thing that had gotten him – besides several years of blissful happiness, of course – was a flushed face that was probably visible even over the edge of his mask and a raging hard-on he probably could have used to give directions to one of the lost old ladies who always seemed to accost him. Not that he was going to. Even he had some boundaries when it came to this stuff.

“How did I let you talk me in to this?” he mumbled while he waited for Sakura to lock the door behind them. She sounded just as breathless as him when she answered, which was at least a small consolation.

“It was your idea.”

“Oh yeah.” Kakashi frowned. “You really need to stop letting me talk you in to things that I find in Icha Icha.”

Her single eyebrow spoke volumes when she raised it in his direction but Kakashi judiciously chose to pretend he had no idea what she was trying to get at. Instead he very carefully shifted his weight to make sure the toy buried inside of him was still in a good position, nothing that would cause any undue gasping when he started to walk. Of course, things would get a lot more difficult once Sakura set her thumb to the remote control she had in her pocket but as soon as she did the game was on and he would be wasting no time retaliating with the remote control he was carrying himself for the vibrator buried deep inside of her.

Something in him wanted to point out how unfair it was that his vibrator had a chance of getting a good run at his prostate to cause extra embarrassment while hers had no chance of going anywhere near her clit but really it was too late for that. He was already lubed and stuffed and so hard his cock probably counted as another weapon. Now was the time to live up to the challenge he himself had proposed.

“Ready?” Sakura’s cheeks were a very pretty shade of pink, as they had been since she first lay back and let him work the vibrator inside her a few minutes before they left the house. Kakashi took a moment to admire how well she was holding herself together before nodding.

“Yup. One romantic evening walk around town coming right up.”

“At least you let me talk you out of going to work like this. Can you imagine me trying to see to my patients like this?” She very carefully stepped over to his side and slid her arm in to his. “Can you imagine trying to sit through official meetings with your council like this?”

“No and also please do not make me imagine the council and sex toys in the same situation.”

Sakura laughed at him but Kakashi shuddered as they stepped out together.

In retrospect he truly was more grateful than he could say that she had talked him out of going to work like this. Only halfway down the street he was cursing himself for this latest ‘brilliant idea’. The toy inside of him was solid and warm and it rubbed in all sorts of interesting ways with every step. By the end of their street he was glad he’d thought to put on an extra pair of underwear because he was already leaking with excitement.

And then the toy began to vibrate unexpectedly.

Rather than swear like a particularly aroused pirate as he wanted to Kakashi bit his tongue and went stiff, bearing up under his wife’s laughter until the sensation stopped, then he turned his hand over in his pocket and went for his own control. He was equal parts proud and disappointed that Sakura’s reaction was as controlled as his own. A part of him had been hoping for a loud squeal.

They walked together for more than an hour, both of their fingers on and off the controls at random times and with no discernable pattern, each trying to push the other farther towards the edge while also clinging to sanity by a thread themselves. For each deserted street Kakashi chose to wander down Sakura laughingly steered them towards a busier one just to torture him for his own poor decisions. Never had he been so glad that the new model of flak vests hung low enough for the shadow to make an excellent disguise for any wetness that was sure to bleed through his clothing eventually.

After the first hour Kakashi was beginning to wonder if he might actually have to pause and bend over to lose himself in his pants in some random back alley and despite their halting attempts to keep up a steady conversation he found his mind was filled with little more than filthy desires and fantasies he hadn’t entertained in quite some time. If their game didn’t end soon he was getting dangerously close to tapping out first because clearly he was the only one struggling with this challenge.

Or he thought he was until, to his great surprise, Sakura pushed him in to an alley and buried her head against his shoulder to muffle a scream in the material of his vest.

“I think that’s all the acting skills I have in me,” she panted against his chest. Kakashi blinked down at her.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes, yes, oh my god I can’t take it anymore. I’m done.”

“But you’ve been holding it together better than I have this whole time!” He cried.

She lifted her head to glare at him and only then did he see what he had been too distracted to see until now. It made so much more sense now why she had so stubbornly kept her eyes straight ahead and ducked her chin whenever they passed someone else too closely on the street. Her cheeks were still flushed, which could have been attributed to the heat of a long summer day, but her eyes were desperate and feral in a way he only ever saw in the bedroom. She looked ready to be devoured.

“Acting skills indeed,” he said in wonder. “I never even heard your voice shake once.”

“Yeah, great, I’ll get a day job acting. Please take me home and fuck me. Kakashi, please. I need to come so bad.”

It was a rare occasion indeed when he could get a strong woman like Sakura anywhere close to begging. Kakashi wrapped both arms around his wife and brought his hands together for a body flicker.

They were gone from the alley in an instant and as soon as they landed in their bedroom he could not have said what alley they had been in or what roads they had travelled in the time since they had left. Extended pleasure had left his brain mush and his body vibrating as surely as the toy buried within him. Both of them collapsed against each other with a gasp as soon as they were sure they had arrived somewhere private, their eyes closed and their bodies quaking together for want of the explosive orgasm dangling just out of reach.

“I don’t even care what you choose for your prize,” Sakura growled, “just let me come, I am begging you.”

“Okay…so here’s the thing.” Kakashi swallowed thickly and twitched, holding back a mewl of want when Sakura scrambled for the remote she appeared to only just realize she had left on.

“You better not have just come in your pants!”

“No, although I am man enough to admit that I had a couple close calls.” Kakashi pulled his mask down to give his wife a considering look. “I was just going to say that, ah, I know that you won but I don’t think we’ve ever talked about what I was going to ask for my prize. After all this I’ve got…a craving.”

Sakura eyed him carefully, impatience humming under her skin. “Go on.”

“Have you ever pegged anyone before?”

“Oh. Um, no I haven’t. I imagine the mechanics of it are fairly easy to figure out though and, well, you’re already all…open. Or however you say it.” To his relief she didn’t seem put off by the idea, only a little thrown by the unexpected request. It had been a while since Kakashi had given much thought to being on the receiving end of anything but a blowjob, not since the two of them started dating a few years back, and suddenly he very much regretted not bringing this up earlier.

Apparently he could have been satisfied in a whole other host of ways this entire time.

Casting his eyes over towards his half of their shared closet he murmured, “I still have the harness you would need and the straps are adjustable…”

“You’re not going to tell I can’t get myself off after, are you?” Her question made him squirm and Kakashi may have been blushing a little when he ducked his head and peeked up at her through his drooping fringe.

“No I wasn’t gonna tell you to do anything. Actually, I was sort of hoping it would be you telling me what to do.” Hopefully she got his meaning from that because while he had never been ashamed of his own tastes before that didn’t make it any easier to request his wife of two years dominate him for the first time. Change was never easy for him.

Even when that change sounded delicious and promised to end with satisfaction on both sides.

Still, Sakura looked genuinely intrigued by his suggestion. Her eyes roamed down his body and Kakashi didn’t bother hiding the shiver as his own imagination took off trying to figure out what filthy things were going on in hers. He was so distracted thinking about it he almost didn’t notice when she slipped one hand in to her pocket for the same remote control that had been driving him wild since they left the house before.

The sensation was so unexpected after he had finally allowed himself to stop anticipating it that the short burst of vibration shocked a cry out of him and folded his legs, leaving him kneeling on the floor at Sakura’s feet. When she smirked he could only swallow thickly and thank the gods he’d been smart enough to marry this amazing woman.

“Well, well. How kind of you to get in to position without being asked. If you want your own satisfaction, Mr. Hatake, I’m afraid you’ll have to earn it with mine.” She lifted that single eyebrow again and he didn’t need to follow what her hands were doing to guess what she wanted.

“Yes mistress,” he breathed.

“Mistress, huh? I think I like that. You may please your mistress now, Kakashi.” Sakura beckoned him forward with one finger but Kakashi was already reaching for the hem of her skirt.

Her clothing fell away easily enough and Kakashi had his tongue circling her clit almost the instant she was exposed to the air. Sakura gasped above him and slid her fingers in to his hair with a firm grip, though she allowed him to move as he wished and offered no other commands but a breathy, “More!”

So more is what he gave her. With his tongue already hard at work Kakashi slid both hands up the inside of her thighs to wrap his fingers around the toy he himself had worked inside her not too long ago. She was dripping wet, the underwear he had just removed for her soaked through, and that made it deliciously easier to grip the toy to slowly pull it out. Her moan of pleasure was cut off when he slid the toy back in at just the right angle, becoming a sharp cry as her hips rocked in to the motion unconsciously to grind against his face.

With how worked up she was already it was no surprise that it didn’t take very long. Kakashi moaned each time the hand in his hair tightened to bring him closer but never once did his tongue let up and his fingers refused to pause in working the toy until Sakura was shuddering and breaking, the other hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping her from falling over. She never let go of his hair, however, and Kakashi had dabbled in this kind of play enough times to know that it wasn’t for him to decide when he should stop, although he doubted that was really at the forefront of his wife’s mind in that moment.

He stopped only when Sakura pushed him away and demanded in a shaking voice that he pull the toy out of her completely, which he did with agonizing slowness for no reason other than to tease her with the fact that she hadn’t been very specific. After she had gathered herself enough to speak properly she slid one hand under his chin and lifted it to meet her gaze. Kakashi quivered under the heat in her eyes.

“Now would be a good time for you to fetch that harness, pet.”

Feet slipping and limbs suddenly clumsy in their haste, Kakashi all but flung himself towards his side of their doublewide closet and dug deep in to the back where he had shoved all the boxes from his old apartment that never got unpacked. The harness jingled merrily when he pulled it out of the box, leather supple against his skin, and already he could feel his body clenching in anticipation.

Sakura was the very vision of a dominatrix as she took a firm power stance and ordered him to put the harness on for her. In that moment Kakashi could think of nothing else he would rather do. He nearly shook with anticipation as he fitted the straps to her body and secured one of the toys he only ever used when she wasn’t home in the front. He almost expected his wife to take a moment to get used to the new addition but it only took one look for him to see he was wrong.

“Bend over the foot of the bed,” Sakura commanded. “And spread your legs for me.”

“Yes mistress!” He was there in an instant, twitching with need and more eager than he could ever remember being for any of his previous partners. A whimper escaped his lips when he felt her take a good grip on his hair again to pull his head back for a filthy kiss.

“Good boy,” she murmured against his lips.

There was no time for another whimper as a deep groan was torn from him when she took hold of the electric toy that had been driving him insane for the past hour and more. The flared base pulled at his entrance in a way had him making fists in the bedsheets and breathing hard until finally it was sliding out and he was woefully empty. Even before Sakura got her hands on his hips Kakashi was arching his back and presenting, begging to be filled again, desperate in a way he’d almost forgotten he could be.

Certainly he’d been desperate for Sakura’s touch before; their sex life was anything but boring. But there was a different kind of excitement in fucking his wife up against a wall than there was in bending over to let her fuck him instead. This was a whole new world of things for them to explore together. He only wished he’d thought to suggest these things earlier in their relationship.

At the first touch of something slick and blunt Kakashi gasped, wondering how he could have possibly let his mind wander far enough that he hadn’t noticed her grabbing the lube to apply to her new toy.

“How much can you take, hm pet? Would you like me to tease you?” Sakura rolled her hips to torment his entrance until he whined softly. “Oh, but you’re already open for me, aren’t you? I’ll bet you’d rather I just get straight to fucking you hard like you so obviously want.”

“Please fuck me, mistress,” he gasped, barely able to squeeze the words out.

“That’s what I thought. So eager.”

Sakura pet his hair a couple of times and, like a cat, Kakashi felt his body melting under the soft touch until her hips pressed forward without warning and he was arching again at the sensation of a thick head breaching him. It wasn’t quite the full thrust he might have expected from someone with more experience who understood what he could take but he understood Sakura’s hesitance and refrained from anything other than begging her to fuck him deeper, harder.

And she listened, of course. The moment she had drawn her mental boundaries was clear as Kakashi felt two tiny hands taking a firm grip on either side of his thighs and then it was all his could do to hold on tight to the bedding, riding the cock fucking him from behind, high on the voice that murmured praise and encouragement above him. All he could think – besides how incredible it felt and how close he already was to coming – was that he hoped she was enjoying this as much as he was because they needed to do this again sometime. Very soon.

That’s what he was thinking right up until the moment he realized that his wife was a medical professional, she would know better than anyone where the prostate was, and that she must have been deliberately avoiding it this whole time. She was edging him; and if he knew his wife then he could guess that she wanted him to beg before she let him finish.

Which he was not above doing. Kami but this woman was perfect for him.

“Please mistress, may I come?” Kakashi clenched around the toy as it slid in again and paused for Sakura to shiver against his back.

“Of course pet. You may come now since you’ve been so well behaved.” Her hips rolled back and Kakashi knew that when she thrust forward her aim would be true. Before she could move again he hurried to turn his head and babble out one last request.

“Wait! Could- could you pull my hair again? Please?”

“Anything you like,” she purred.

Fingers slid in to his hair and Kakashi’s eyes were already rolling back in pleasure at the pull against his roots even before she pressed him down over the end of the bed and began to fuck him in earnest, each stroke drawing out helpless cries of pleasure until finally the angle shifted ever so slightly and he saw stars, ecstasy ripping through him on the first hit. His orgasm rolled through him like wildfire, heat rushing through his veins and leaving him breathless.

Not until he was truly begging for mercy did Sakura stop fucking him, letting her hips come to rest with the toy buried deep inside and the leather of her harness pressed up against his overheated skin. It took several seconds of gulping air like a drowning man before Kakashi blinked and realized he was staring sightlessly at nothing and seeing only the white noise inside his own head. When the room came back in to focus he realized that he had actual torn the sheets with both hands. Some part of him absently mourned the loss of the expensive bedding he had only just bought a few months ago but most of him was concentrating on the feeling of Sakura’s palms skimming up and down his back.

“Thank you mistress,” he mumbled and then smiled when it startled a laugh out of his wife.

“It truly was my pleasure,” Sakura admitted. “I don’t think I would mind trying this again some time. Maybe revisit the bits where you called me mistress and follow my orders without question. That part I liked.”

Kakashi chuckled weakly. “I am not surprised.”

Getting cleaned up afterwards was interesting. After so long being filled in one way or another it was strange when Sakura pulled her hips away very slowly and he was empty once more, fidgeting while she used a few wipes to clean away the excess lube around his entrance. She laughed brightly when he called her solicitous.

Watching Sakura struggle with the harness and fighting her way out of the straps without bothering to remove the toy from it first was more funny than sexy and by the time Kakashi was able to pull her down in to the bed for a much needed nap before dinner her found that he was in higher spirits than he could remember in the past little while. Things had been tense for both of them at work lately, part of the reason he had proposed this game as a way to relieve a bit of tension, but now he was little more than a puddle between the sheets with Sakura’s warm weight curled around his side.

“I’m glad you talk me in to weird stuff,” she told him in a thoughtful voice.

“Maa, I’m glad you let me.”

“Let’s do something else weird soon. You’ve probably got all sorts of stuff in that closet, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kakashi admitted. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss against Sakura’s hair. “And I would be very happy to show you a few new tricks. Thank you for not laughing me out of the house when I suggested this.”

After a bit of shuffling she was in a good position to push herself up and press a light kiss against his cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he said in return.

He closed his eyes, determined to get at least an hour of sleep before one of them had to get up to cook dinner. Those plans changed, however, when Sakura pressed another kiss against his cheek and he opened one eye to find her peering across the room at their closet with the bright light of adventure in her gaze.

It looked like maybe he would get to pull out his box of tricks a little earlier than expected.

#rae writes #commission #kakasaku #kakashi #sakura #fanfiction

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