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fanaticsnail · 7 months

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An Affectionate Embrace

Masterlist Here

Characters: Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Shanks, Beckman (Art found on Pinterest)

Word Count: 650-900 per gentleman.

Synopsis: It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?

Notes: Since completing the "Kiss Their Cheek" for both the monster and supernova trios, I had to get a little kiss on the sea-dilfs. Considering they’re a little older and more experienced (and less easy to fluster), there’s a little more depth to their reactions.

Themes: cheek kisses, feelings, unrequited love, confessions of love, no prior romantic relationship, gn!reader, pure fluff, lil bit angsty, small bit of fear, bittersweet emotions.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

Buggy

“Captain, you’re back!” you cried with glee, eagerly rising to your feet alongside the devoted crew. Each member rushed over to greet him, cheers and enthusiastic cries of joy sprang forth from the lips and throats of your comrades in arms.

Buggy D Clown had been away for a while, wandering throughout the seas and attempting to get back to his loyal and faithful crew. You had been searching for him for weeks, and finally at the umpteenth hour, his heavy boots found the deck of the Big Top once again.

As the first member of the crew to reach him, you flung yourself into his arms and littered his face in a flurry of rapid kisses. You adored your captain. All of the crew did. Considering the massive swell and release of emotions, you could barely contain your incessant need to wrap yourself around him and continue laying into him with peppered pecks atop his cheeks, chin, forehead and stubbled jaw.

The rest of the crew joined you in your embrace, each member attempting to get as close as they could to kiss, claw, bow and nuzzle against the captain. Giggling along with them in cheer, you felt Buggy’s expression change from joy and pride into a deep and heavy frown.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Buggy’s low tone attempted to break the crew away from their embrace. None could hear his direction over their own desire to worship their captain with their lips, arms and knees. Kneeling before him and reaching up their grabby hands, uttering “we missed you,” and “we love you, captain,” repetitively, Buggy’s body began to vibrate as his rage ignited.

“That’s enough,” he tried again, the crew not responding to his commands and continuing to mumble, babble and cry for him. You hastily withdrew yourself from his arms, adjusting your clothes and turning to your crew.

“Oi, you lot! Captain said it’s enough!” you called, booming your voice to halt the crew of their incessant repetition. “Hoist the colors, unsheath the sails, weigh anchor: prepare to make waves!”

“Aye,” the crew responded, hastily snapping out of their prior hypnosis and scrambling to follow your commands. Although you were not the first-mate, you were excellent at barking orders to the unruly crew. Turning to glance at the blushed, painted face of your captain, you smiled up and him and clapped a supportive hand over his shoulder.

“It’s good to have you back, sir,” you confessed briefly, turning away to begin your duties to set sail, “Do we have a heading, Sir- Mmfmph!” Buggy’s index finger and thumb collected your chin, hoisting you closer to him as he drew his face closer to meet with yours.

Closing the gap, your captain’s lips collided with your own, his red paint smeared over your lips and cheeks as he pressed a heavy and intentional kisses against your mouth. His hand withdrew from your chin, raking his gloved hand through your hair to draw you into himself.

“S-Sorry, Doll,” he stuttered upon his withdrawal, “It’s been a little while, and I missed you too.” Your eyes held a momentary confusion, your head shaking with a broad rise in your smile.

“You gonna kiss all the crew, Captain?” you laughed joyfully and in good humor, “Am I the lucky number one to receive a kiss from you? You want me to line them up for you, Sir?”

Where you expected to find a loud outrageous cackle at your joke, akin to one that you were always greeted with when you verbally played with your captain, what you found in it’s wake was something different. Buggy’s hands sought out your hips, drawing you closer and pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“No,” he whispered in a voice so silent you could barely hear it, “Just you.” Reactionary, you wrapped your arms around his neck and soothed over his hair and shoulders with several soothing touches. You felt his anxiety release and his tension depart from him with a shaken movement on his shoulders. The longer he remained nuzzled against you, the more he realized he never wanted to be apart from you again.

Mihawk

The cool steel of metal clashed together, a cross-shaped window crafted between your blades as you bore your eyes into his honey-hue. Mihawk had been training you in the art of the sword, desperate for you to be a well-rounded fighter. You were no swordsperson, only minimal prior skill with a blade meant for single combat.

But Mihawk, the owner of castle Kuraigana and your superior, was a determined teacher.

“This maneuver is called ‘the talking window’,” he informed you, clicking the blade against the sharpened edge of your sword. You nodded as he continued to educate you, “This is where many a swordsman may converse, or threaten their opponent with verbal intimidation.”

Humming in response, he tested the grip on your steel with a firm shove: breaking you from contact against his blade. He lunged forward with his training sword, thrusting it out and prompting you to parry the blow.

“Try again, and see if you can disarm me with a threat while in there,” his authoritative tone almost caught you off guard. “Think on your feet. I’ll grant you a single moment there to test your words. Your job is to have me stumble enough verbally to lose my momentum in combat.”

Picking up your stance, you tapped your sword against his while you allowed your mind to produce witty and original retort. Kicking up your feet and swirling in place, your blade's edge was once again drawn against Mihawk’s as he awaited your verbal disarm.

But there was something about the way he was looking at you. His eyes held encouragement with his usual abrasiveness, a combination you were yet to find in its equal. The hue of amber decorated his honey-irises with the soft swell of the uncharted and unfamiliar. Disarmed yourself by the emergence of new emotions, your body moved against your will and pressed through the window of crossed-blades.

You sprung forward, your lips immediately finding purchase against his whiskered cheek. This small act of pure instinct stunned Mihawk in his stance, his fingers loosening around the hilt of his blade and softening against your sword.

Considering the hastiness of your own actions, you withdrew as quickly as your lips found his cheek. Your own cheeks flooded with warmth, your lips tingling with the lingering glow of the kiss, as you slunk back in your stance. After a few rapid blinks, Mihawk thrust his blade against your own, easily circling his wrist to rid your grasp over the hilt of your sword and dropping it to the ground.

“I-I’m sorry, I just-,” you began, halted by Mihawk casting his own blade down beside yours and lunging forward. He closed the distance, his hands grasping at your hips and drawing your body flush against his own. Pelvises touching, lips within distance, he circled his chin as a snake would mesmerize their unwitting and unsuspecting prey.

“-If you’re going to disarm me with something as bold as a kiss,” Mihawk purred down at you, his gaze holding you hostage under its sultry hypnotism, “Then at least do it properly, for both our sakes.”

“For both our-?” your words halted in your throat as your lips became eclipsed under the soft touch of Dracule Mihawk’s lips against your own. Your eyes widened, his lips opening and molding against yours to find a kiss as deep enough - as passionate enough - to grant you the insight to all of his pent up emotions.

Brows furrowed and hands roaming, he cradled your form against himself, succumbing to the feeling of bliss against your lips as each moment flooded into the next. Finally allowing himself the luxury of opening himself up to this genre of touch, he would never let you go. You were his, and he was yours.

Crocodile

“I have set out three towels, lotions and soaps, alongside an assortment of your usual clothes should you desire them over your current ensemble,” you nodded, gesturing to the broad chest, arms and legs of the once respectable Sir Crocodile.

His hair was greasy, his eyes were sunken, and his shoulders carried a foreign weight you had not expected to find anchoring your former boss to the floor. As Sir Crocodile’s personal assistant, you were privy to witnessing every state he found himself in. All aside from this one.

He was defeated. His spirit was broken alongside the reflective gold of his left hook. The object was littered in scratches and scuff marks, his body fairing not so different under the longevity he served in Impel Down. His eyes followed your gesture, glaring at the assortment of clothes atop the vanity cabinet before floating his eyes up to meet with his reflection within the broad mirror.

Although he was yet to utter a single word to you, his silence depicted the raw emotions swelling within the heart, spirit and soul of Sir Crocodile.

He was not who he once was.

A man broken, clawing and desperate to be freed from the confines of a torturous prison - to battle and grind through the smog of battle to once again be shepherded into your awaiting embrace. His employee, his confidant, his friend - his love. A love he was yet to express due to the nature of your occupation.

He focussed on his sinking eyes, not recognising the figure glancing back at him. His body was marked with the white and black stripes of imprisonment, his mind laying heavily on the way his body was weakened under the sea stone walls, floors and shackles. He couldn’t find his former self amongst the remains of the man he saw in the silvery reflection. Each crease of his crows feet, each silvered hair on his head, each purple circle beneath his eye was a stranger glaring back at him.

“If I may, Sir,” you began, stepping forward and hovering your hands over his shoulders in the reflection. Deciding against your better judgment, you placed your hands firmly upon his shoulders, soothing over the flesh with your thumbs. You felt him sigh into your touch, but not conform, nor fully embrace, your affectionate touch.

“You are strong,” you uttered into his ear, watching his eyes for any indication of discomfort or apprehension. Finding none in its wake, you continued uttering assurances while you caressed his flesh. He sighed into your touch, leaning into each ministration your hands provided him above his prison uniform.

“You have carved your destiny out by tooth and nail, Sir,” you assured him, paying attention to the scruff of his neck: circling your hands to relieve the stress and tension from his rapidly troubled mind, “You are the man you have always been, Sir Crocodile.”

“And who am I, Rouhi?” he whispered through his exhale, lulling his head back to lean into your palms. His eyes were shut, his forehead plagued by the trials he endured at the violent hands of the marines.

You couldn’t help yourself, your heartstrings tugging and pulling you down to press your lips against his cheek. The silvery scar cutting his eyes away from his nose,jaw and lips feeling rough beneath your lips. You allowed yourself a moment to hold him beneath your lips, feeling the tension rapidly leave him the longer you pressed this affectionate expression against his skin.

“You are Sir Crocodile,” you whispered after tearing your lips away from his cheek, “You are an influential threat that can have the world fall to their knees under your power.” Glancing into his eyes, you saw the world within their purple hue. His eyes swelled beneath their heavy torment, searching your own for more than your words had spoken.

“Is that all I am?” he whispered, his heart weighing heavy in his chest as he looked up at you, “Am I nothing more?”

“You are everything to me, Sir,” you confessed, your heart feeling lighter while the adrenaline pumped to flush your cheeks with a darkening heat, “You can take from that confession what you truly desire to make from it. For now: your clothes have been pressed, your towels have been fluffed, and your home has been made ready to receive you-.”

Lips found yours, his affectionate and apprehensive touch hungrily calling for you with each passing moment. He held his lips against you as if it was the only tether holding his form to this earth, his anchor within the harbor of an unknown land of unrestrained affection. Right hand lacing into your hair, his whimpered groan departed his lips and cried lowly into your own.

He was anew. The broken man he once was no longer found purchase within his chest. Whichever destiny he carved for himself, he would have you by his side to hold him accountable and support him in claiming his fate.

Shanks

The air was light, the jovial melodies thrust into the air at the hands of skilled minstrels. You had been dancing all night with your crew, the momentum finally catching up with you as you all found your seats for a momentary reprieve.

A laugh fled your throat as you twirled your body once more as the music decrecendoed. Applauding the talent produced at the hands and lips of the musicians, you turned to face your crew: their bodies claiming each of the empty surfaces deemed appropriate for the body to recline against. No stool, chair, sofa nor benchtop remained unoccupied as the crew found their reprieve from lengthy dancing.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap, love?” your captain chuckled at you, prompting a rise in laughter among the remainder of the crew, including yourself. “I’m far more comfortable than the chairs around here, anyway.”

“How considerate of you, Captain,” you feigned your appreciation, holding your hand to your heart and drawing out each intentional step towards his lap, “Will you wrap your arms-... -pardon, sir. Arm around me as I take my rightful place atop your mighty throne?”

Always playful and light were the interactions you had with your captain. No matter the years that passed in your longevity in servitude aboard the Red-Force, the playful rapport between Shanks and yourself was something ever present.

“I will put my arm wherever you like, love,” he chuckled, his hazelnut eyes beckoning you in as you drew yourself ever closer, “I’ll keep you safe, so long as you feed me my ale and tell me I’m pretty.”

“So pretty, sir,” you laughed down at him, sinking atop his knee while caressing your hand over his cheek, “The prettiest man that ever did live.” As you cooed into his face, you leant down and pressed a lengthy and extravagant kiss atop his cheek, feigning enthusiasm with a vocal moan while smiling.

The crew burst into a large, communal laugh that resonated within the chest of your captain. The teetered chuckles died down as the men found their drinks, your hand clasping around the hilt of Shanks’ ale and elevating it to his lips.

His eyes never left you for a single moment.

Feeling small beneath his gaze, you placed his tankard down against the table and turned to face him with your brows knit into a gruff frown.

“What, Captain?” you asked him, the anxiety elevating in your chest for each moment that continued to pass between you.

“You missed, love,” he chuckled darkly. You were puzzled, searching for a moment in your servitude that you ever missed a single target - falling short in your memories. Before you had an opportunity to ask him a follow up question, you were silenced by Shanks’ right index finger raking along your jaw and collecting your chin within the hooked digit.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” his smirk carried his dangerously playful tone, “Make sure you hit the right target.” He allowed himself to dwell in that moment of teasing, feeling you slink back atop his lap while his eyes held nothing but unbridled affirmation within their hue.

“Now give us a proper kiss, love,” he uttered before dragging your head towards him, his lips meeting your own. The room uproared into a momentary chaos: cheers, hollers and whistles rose amongst the crew the longer you held your lips against Shanks’. He chuckled against your lips, turning his head and humming against your opening mouth.

“There ‘ya go,” Shanks laughed after pulling away, “Lead with that next time, love. Makes it all less confusing for the lot of us.”

But you were left more confused than the moment you kissed his cheek. Did he like you? Did he want more? Did you want more? You would need to discuss this when the both of you find yourselves in an air of sobriety, that was for certain.

Beckman

The storm scattered your face with a flurry of ice-splinters of frozen rain.The Red-Force was stampeding throughout the waves to find refuge in the eye of the storm, your task was to release the sails to have the natural wind pull you toward the calming center of the flurry.

On the last knot set to release the canvas, the sail snagged on the rope against the top-mast: prompting you to sprint towards the ropes to clamber up amongst the havoc. Your feet caught in the ropes, your heart springing to your throat as you readjusted yourself and stabilized your body within your climb.

“Careful up there!” the barked call of the first mate of the Red-Haired crew called to you over the wild and unruly wind. You could barely make out his words, let alone formulate an answer over the swell of rainfall.

Anchoring yourself amongst the ropes, you began desperately tugging at the knot to loosen. Your eyes became misted by the rapid downpour of water, your hands and fingers desperately clawing at the joint fibers of the rope to loosen. As you finally released the last loop of rope amongst the canvas, your feet slipped and your fingers barely brushed with the ropes to hold yourself steady before you began to fall.

The air was cool, the clouds above shepherded you into the lull of calm before you deduced your body would meet firmly against the deck and break your neck on impact. There was no way you would survive such a drop: no Devil-Fruit abilities to caress your fall, nor Haki present to catch you on impact.

Little did you know, the moment Benn Beckman barked his orders: he ensured his body was intentionally beneath yours to collect you in his arms should you fall. Although first mate to captain Shanks of the Red-Hair pirates, you were special to him. He needed to ensure your safety, regardless of his own orders to remain at his post.

As you fell through the air and readied your soul to flee from your body to welcome death with a warm embrace, the only embrace you felt was a warm chest, two steady and firm arms, and an angry reprimand falling from the lips of the gray-haired first mate.

“I told you to be careful!” he barked at you, his eyes wild and frantic as his brow deepened in a low frown. Your breath hitched in your throat, watching as his passionate scolding ignited behind his eyes. “You need to be careful, to be wise. I don’t care what Shanks told you to do, nor how stupid a command it is. You need to be more careful. Hitch a rope around your belt or somethin’, or between each loop to stop you from falling. I can’t lose you to something so stupid as a storm.”

You could barely comprehend his words, each syllable sounding heavenly against your ears as you appreciated each breath you were granted. You expected to die there, to fall from the ropes and have your neck snap upon impact against the deck - littering your skin with splinters from the wood and choirs serenading you into the life thereafter. In its stead, you were met with a grumpy bark and a cool reprimand that had your heart swelling and eyes misting with the rise of emotions.

Without thinking, you lunged forwards in his arms, your lips making contact against his stubbled cheek. You whimpered against his flesh, arms hooking over his neck and brows upturning in appreciation for his care for you. Your emotions spilled over: thanking whichever deity that was watching over you for the opportunity to live to not only serve this crew, but to feel the touch of Benn Beckman beneath your lips while your body remained chaperoned and cradled within his broad arms.

At a small sob escaping from your lips, Beckman’s heart softened. He cradled you against himself further, huffing out a small laugh and allowing you to remain in his arms a moment longer. He had desired this touch from you for some time, but refused to act on it due to your proximity and place amongst the crew should the relationship sour.

“A-Alright, Darlin’. Easy now,” he chuckled, feeling the small quake in your shoulders at the adjustment of your near demise, “Don’t let me get a big head.”

“You just saved my life, Benn Beckman,” you reiterated, tearing yourself away from him to stare up into his silvery eyes, “A kiss on the cheek is hardly a just reward for such a feat.” Holding his eyes against yours, the rain began to settle as the clouds departed in the eye of the storm. The sun's rays flittered down and cascaded over your bodies, the storm finally finding solace and breaking its tyrannical attack against the Red-Force.

After the storm settled, the soothing swell of waves held you in a momentary calm as your head reclined against Benn Beckman’s broad shoulder. Sitting on the damp deck, with a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, Beckman’s lips found your forehead as your eyes grew heavy with want and soothed within the proximity against your valiant savior.

You could not stop staring at him: this burly man with the grumpy twinkle in his eye. You would offer him the world should he ask it of you, grant him every desire his heart would swell for. You had no idea that the desire itself was you until he made that fact abundantly clear upon your wake in the morning.

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charnelhouse · 2 years

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Imagine going down on Ghost... wanting to make it good and take it all in, but he is so big that you cant help but choke. tears building in your eyes, your hands grip his thighs to ground you. he's whispering sweet little praises, running his fingers through your hair, petting his thumb along your hollowed cheek. youre going to be hoarse the whole next day, but you dont care

A/N: Simon Ghost Reader x F!Reader. Blow jobs. Dirty talk.

Ghost isn’t one to fuck your throat. He knows his size, and every time you offer to go down on him, he considers it a gift. He encourages you with that same rumbling, husky tone he uses in the field. Deep. Unrelenting. He’s a force of nature, and engulfing him is a feat.

He sprawls out, thick thighs spread and his boots covered in mud.

I need to shower, kid...

No, you don’t. I’ll taste you just like this.

You feel the massive muscles in his legs twitch under your hands. The skull on his mask stares you down - penetrating through the shell of your skin. When you release him from his jeans, his cock juts out against his stomach. You regard it lovingly. It’s beautiful, a reflection of himself. Searing hot. Bone-hard. His chest rises and falls, and his abdominals twitch when you slide your palms up his thigh. You lean forward and press your lips to the flushed head, gently stroking the foreskin down as you tease him with kitten licks.

“You’re so fuckin’ lovely,” he murmurs in a voice that slaps your cunt. It’s precious - a sweet jewel of praise you will carry. A soft reminder that Ghost is capable of such words. He can be screaming in your ear, howling orders, and you’ll remember this. His cock in your mouth, his eyes black as midnight sky as they watch you attempt to swallow him.

You fist his shaft and use the right amount of pressure. You lap at the base, sliding your tongue flat along the underside until it darts against his slit.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans, hips bucking against your chin.

“Easy,” you soothe before you wrap your lips around him and take him as deep as you can. You get about three-fourths of the way down before you’re gagging. Tears burn in your eyes, and his dick is just too fucking big. It’s heavy, pulsing in the molten, wet suction of your mouth. You cup his balls, suck the head, and it’s the first time Ghost won’t shut up.

He brushes his thumb across your cheek, the line of your jaw. “So good,” he says. “So fuckin’ good, duchess. Just - just takin’ my cock like a big girl.”

You want to touch yourself between your legs. You want to climb onto his lap and have him cram you full with his cock. You want to feel him in your belly - in your heart.

Sweat is dripping down his chest, bare stomach, and the soft curls at his groin. You choke, spit all over your hands and mouth, and every time you draw away, it connects your lips to his perfect cock. Strings of spittle. Pre-cum. He’s salty and earthy behind your teeth. His musk is distinct - whiskey and bullets and wood.

“Think they know what you’re doin’ to me right now, Red?” He grunts, his hand possessively palming your skull to pull you forward. “That you’re sucking your lieutenant's cock right after a mission? You’re too damn giving, love.”

You take him deeper, relaxing your throat until the hair above his cock tickles your nose.

“They watch you,” he says. “You know they think about you - talk about what you’d be like, and every fuckin’ time, I have to stop myself from breaking their goddamn necks.” His hips stutter against your face, he inhales sharply when you suction your mouth. “They ever try anythin’, I’ll kill ‘em. It’s you and me, yeah?”

You’d be lying if this wasn’t making you clench. Ghost is excellent at acting professionally. He treats you the same as the others, but knowing he’s raging under his skin? He’s furious behind that stiff, cold mask? Oh - it does things to you.

“I’d fuck you in front of them,” he hisses as his cock twitches and throbs inside your mouth. He’s close, you can sense it. You blink up, hand still stroking fast and tight before you release him with a pop, and he growls.

“You’d let them see me?” you taunt. “Let them see my pussy? My tits? I thought they were yours.”

He’s silent, and you’d give anything to see his expression. He seems to be thinking, musing about how far he’d go with this fantasy.

“I’d let them watch,” he says slowly as he gently guides your mouth back onto his straining cock. It’s red and wet, flushed with so much heat, and nearly there. “Think they’d touch you after they see me fuck you open?” His fingers slide along your cheek, press against the area he’s stretching your mouth. “You come quick with me, duchess. I know your body.”

You’re going to liquid, feverish with desire for him. It doesn’t take long after that. His hips jerk, his cock pulses, and then he’s spurting down your throat until he has nothing left to give. He trembles, chest hitching, and pupils blown out.

“Get on your back, Red,” he orders, gripping the edge of his mask. “Legs open.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x you #cod mw22 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x female reader

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guttergirlcore · 3 months

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Could we get part 03 of that pls🙏 I stan one (1) Cregan Stark who loves cockwarming (to ease his pain too okay Lord Stark🩵🩵🩵 absolute my favorite part) but does he have his new gorgeous beloved wife ride him or does he f*ck her🤔 also when is she gonna drop the lore about being treated terribly by her Lannister fam and would dearest Cregan comfort her?

Our Cregan is a man of many interests & talents <3

A Den of Lions & Wolves: Part III

Cregan Stark x Lannister! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

SYNOPSIS // Your husband, Lord Cregan Stark, the Wolf of Winterfell, has returned to you. With his return, Cregan shows an unexpected gentleness in your conversations--a gentleness that reminds you just how deep your desire for companionship goes.

WARNINGS // HotD universe, smut, aftercare fluff, Lannister!reader, AFAB she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma/emotional abuse, angst, possessive behavior, Cregan being a big [kinda scary] softie <3

>>READ RESPONSIBLY<<

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1.8k

"You're not done, little wolf." Cregan chuckled humorlessly, his throbbing member still embedded within you.

His hands found the bottom of your ass, effortlessly lifting you up as he crossed the room to the large basin tub at the far side. Your back met the cool stone wall alongside it as Cregan hungrily devoured your mouth.

His strong, wet tongue swirled and pushed against yours, the sensation making you grow wetter by the second.

Cregan pulled back, his long brown hair coming undone from his bun. A thin, silvery trail of saliva connected his plump mouth to yours.

"You will draw me a bath and join me, yes?"

"Yes, husband," you obediently confirm.

Cregan gently allows your feet to touch the floor, slowly slipping from your warmth. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan from the sensation.

As you gained your balance again, Cregan slowly released you, and you knelt down to the tub, pouring several buckets of hearth-warmed water into the basin.

Behind you, you could hear the light thud of Cregan's pants hitting the floor along with his heavy boots. Once unburdened by clothing, he climbed in, sinking down into the warm embrace of the water. Simultaneously, he let out a groan of relief that had you quivering at the knees.

Once he was settled, he looked up at you expectantly. "Remove your gown and sit on my cock," he instructed, getting straight to the point.

You did as you were told, standing and pulling the thin material over your head. You dropped it to a pile on the floor and stepped gingerly into the water, one foot on each side of Cregan's hips. The red head of his cock peeked above the water's surface, ready to split you in two.

Slowly you lowered yourself down until you could feel his tip prod at your dripping entrance. Growing tired of your delay, Cregan's large hands grabbed your waist and shoved you down hard, burying every inch of himself within you. You yelped in surprise.

"Fuuck--such a tight, delicious cunt," Cregan moaned out, rocking his hips slightly.

Your face heated at his comment, and you shyly looked away from him. He grabbed your chin in a nearly bruising grip and turned you back to face him.

"You will look at me as I breed you."

You throbbed on top of him as his fingers dug into your hips, lifting you, and then pushing you back down on his length. The water provided even more lubricant between the two of your bodies, allowing you to fit his massive size more comfortably.

He eased you into a steady rhythm, his thick cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over. Once your pleasure mounted, he leaned back against the back of the tub, watching you pleasure yourself on his cock.

"Cregan! Gods--!" You moaned, bouncing up and down of your own volition now.

Cregan darkly chuckled. "I am your god, my love. You pray to me now. Your mercy comes from me."

Leaning forward, Cregan pressed his warm mouth to your nipple, making goosebumps erupt all over your body. His full lips pressed against the flesh of your chest, his tongue rolling and swirling over the swell of your breast. His other hand kneaded into the flesh of your ass, massaging and grabbing in what was sure to leave fresh marks in the morn.

The feeling of his hard cock prodding you relentlessly and his wet tongue swirling and sucking your sensitive nipples was all too much to bear. Without much warning, your first orgasm of the night washed over you, and you pressed your body tightly against Cregan's, allowing him to take over and thrust more fully inside of you.

He slowed his pace, delivering long, deep thrusts that made you sink your nails into the hard muscles of his back, biting back sobs of pleasure. When your orgasm was had, you sagged against his hard body, panting and glowing with sweat.

"I'm close behind you, my love. Stay with me," Cregan groaned, the water splashing over the sides of the basin.

Utterly exhausted from your first orgasm, you allowed Cregan to use your cunt as he needed. He pumped in and out of you harder now, more desperate for his own release. You whimpered against his ear, overstimulated but still craving more.

With his right hand, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you back, forcing you to look at him, just as he'd instructed.

"That's right, darling, right here," he moaned loudly.

His thrusts grew sloppier, throwing more water over and causing you to throw your hands out to the sides of the basin for stability. With one brutal thrust into your deepest spot, Cregan threw his head back, emptying his full balls into your needy cunt.

"Ahhh--fuck! Mmm, that's it, take every drop, my love," Cregan shouted in ecstasy, his wet hair sticking to his beautiful face.

The sensation of his hot cum shooting into your womb forced you over the edge once more, and you found yourself bearing down on his still-pulsing cock for your second orgasm of the night.

Your moans came out high-pitched and hurried as you rocked against him, his hands stroking up and down your stomach.

"That's it, baby. Gods, you're beautiful. Taking my load so well." His voice was dripping with sex, and it made the rolling waves of your orgasm all the more intense.

Once again, you collapsed against his chest after your pleasure was through, panting heavily and sighing with complete satisfaction.

As gently as he could, Cregan lifted you from his spent cock, setting you back down in his lap. After you both had caught your breath, you plucked the sudsy sponge from the tub's ledge and swiped it across your husband's broad chest.

Coming down from both of your highs, you and your new husband spent the night caressing and scrubbing, cleansing and holding each other until the water had well gone cold.

After your eventful bath, neither of you bothered to get dressed. You simply lay in bed bare together, as husband and wife.

"You are a wonder," Cregan whispered into your hair, his fingers tracing shapes over your back as you lay atop his chest.

"You may be the only one that thinks as such," you chuckled, absentmindedly.

"Oh, I doubt that greatly. From the way the handmaidens speak of you, it's clear they are quite enamored with you. As am I, my lady.''

Your heart ached at his words. All your life, you'd only ever wanted to be adored.

"I am wondering why you are so quick to discredit others' good word for you." Cregan quietly spoke into the room.

Where should I begin, you thought. You weren't even entirely sure if you were ready to share this with your new husband. He had been quite kind to you and giving in more than a few ways. Didn't he deserve to be given back to?

With considerable effort, you responded, "I suppose I don't have to tell you that I've never fit in within my own house. Though I was born of Lannister blood, they have never treated me as such."

Cregan nodded his head, silently encouraging you to go on.

"I can't recall many memories of youth, but I can remember how cruel my father could be when he wanted. Sometimes, I think he was even cruel when he hadn't wanted to be. It was his way."

"Just before my father offered me to you, he took me aside and told me I'd been useless all my life--a dark stain on the ancestral tapestry of House Lannister. That this union was his chance to prove to himself that my birth hadn't been for naught. My father promised me no riches or respect for my compliance. No, he promised me something far greater than that--his complete and utter absence from my life. I feared you would reject me, and I'd be stuck beneath the crushing weight of his boot forevermore. I could hardly stand the thought."

Cregan's soothing circles on your back stilled. It felt as if every muscle in his body had gone rigid.

The air in the room seemed suddenly sucked out, it was nearly suffocating.

"It is a good thing your father promised you his absence."

"Why is that?" You asked your husband, picking your head up to look at him.

His eyes shone nearly amber in the candles' ambient glow.

"Because if I see him again, I may kill him for what he's done to you."

Your heart seems to take several quick stutters. How could this man who you've known for less than two weeks care so deeply for you when your own father and mother hadn't in all your life?

"I suppose that is very good, then." You chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond to the intensity you'd come to know as characteristic of Lord Stark.

"I've always been rather unremarkable, so I suppose I understand my parents' disinterest in me."

A long moment of silence permeated the room and you wondered if Lord Stark had drifted off to sleep during your tale. Just as you were about to resign yourself to sleep as well, Cregan's voice sounded again, his chest rumbling underneath you with his words.

"You would dare to consider yourself plain?"

Bathed in the pale light of the high moon, Cregan's eyes shined bright and you were once again reminded of the bone-chilling gaze of a wolf. You felt embarrassed, somehow.

"It pains me that you think yourself deserving of the Lannisters' taunts. That you would justify their deplorable treatment of you with self-depreciation." Cregan's voice rose with each sentence until it rang out with the highest conviction.

"Hear me in this. I did not idly accept Therion Lannister's offer on a whim. You are the single most magnificent creature I have and will evermore lay eyes on. You are my wife, Lady Stark of Winterfell, and soon, with the grace of the gods, the mother of my children. You have no more ties to the Lannisters than I do to the desolate days before I was blessed with the gift of knowing you."

Your eyes shined with tears welling beneath the surface. In all your life, you'd dreamed of someone who might someday speak to you with an ounce of kindness that Lord Stark had just commanded.

"The next time you speak against yourself, I will consider it a personal affront to House Stark, and you won't like to know what a man will do when his House is insulted, do you understand me?"

You quickly nod your head in understanding.

"We may not know each other well, my lady, but I plan on rectifying that very soon. I want to know you, Y/N. And what's more, I want you to know yourself."

Stunned into silence, you nuzzled your face against Cregan's chest, inhaling his warm, woodsy scent. His fingers combed through the hair at your temples gently as the two of you drifted off to a peaceful sleep together.

#cregan fanfic #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark #cregan x reader #hotd cregan #house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #house stark #hotd #game of thrones #got #aemond targaryen #cregan smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark smut #rhaenyra targaryen #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon

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captainlondonman · 23 days

Text

TRUCKER

David was almost beginning to panic. He was trying to get back to college and had been at the layby for some time trying to hitchhike but car after car and truck after truck had passed. He had made sure he was well dressed in a good pair of chinos and jacket as most of the time that always helped get a lift. Some had waved at him but most had just not even looked his way as he stood with the sign clearly showing where he wanted to go. It was getting on and there was a good distance to go before he got to the college.

Suddenly coming over the brow of the hill he saw a large truck and immediately stood further out waving his hand with the sign showing so the driver could see. The driver flashed his lights and slowed down to draw into the side of the road. David felt a huge sense of relief as he walked to the front of the truck, the driver rolling down the window.

‘Hi mate, I’m going your way so if you want a lift get in.’

‘Yes please, thanks so much.’

‘Climb on in then.’

The trucker swung open the door and David climbed into the passenger seat. As he did he was suddenly aware of the stench. It was a stale mix of cigarettes, beer and unwashed body. For a moment he thought perhaps I should just decline and wait in the hope of getting a car ride rather than this. Not sure how I can cope with this smell the whole way back.

At one point he thought he could throw up as the stench percolated his throat but the trucker seemed quite friendly and he thought he might try and roll down the window a bit to get some fresh air in.

‘So mate what’s your name and what are you doing?

‘I’m David and I am heading back to college, 2nd year.’

‘Well then I’m Brady and as you can see I’m a truck driver, been doing the job for years.

David turned to look at the driver and take in his appearance.

The guy was a burly well built 6ft. with massive arms, tattoos all down one arm, heavy hands, a large round face with a thick 3 day growth, his plaid shirt was opened half way down his chest showing a forest of dark hair and a thick gold metal chain around his neck. He was wearing camos and well used rigger boots. As David’s eyes ran down the body he noticed that the guy had a long outline of cock down one side, clearly commando. This was not a man to mess with. The trucker took out a cigarette and lit it puffing away without using his hand, the ciggie just hanging on his lips as he let out the heavy clouds of tobacco smoke. As the smoke filled the truck cabin David knew he had to cough.

‘Not the smoke from my ciggie is it?’

‘No ,no of course just having been standing outside for so long.’

‘Just as well as I love my smokies.’

The two guys talked and the trucker asked what he was studying at college

‘Mathematics.’

‘Fuck me’, the trucker replied, ‘a real clever dick. Never been good at that sort of thing. I love the open road. Suppose you never have thought of being a trucker?’ Brady asked with a smile.

‘No, not exactly, I’m probably more a desk bound person.’

‘Great shame mate as I could do with a mate as I travel around. You meet all sort of guys on the road and there are some good times, know what I mean?’

David didn’t dare ask what he meant but assumed a few beers and pool games.

Several times as David turned to answer a question he noticed that Brady would put his hand down between his legs and give his cock a soft stroke. David wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or just a general thing as many guys did liking to stroke their dick and balls but he was certain that the length had increased a bit and looked more meaty.

After half an hour Brady turned the truck into a layby.

‘I need a piss and a short pit stop. That all right with you? You probably could do with a piss as well. We’ll just go round the side of the truck so no one sees us.’

The two men climbed down from the truck and stood at the side, David feeling very uneasy about taking his cock out in front of someone he did not really know.

‘Don’t be shy boy. Let me go first.’

Brady unzipped his camos and stuffed his hand far down inside , widening his stance and then pulling out a large thick dick, especially thick at the top, with his large hand around his shaft he pulled his dark foreskin back to allow the heavy pink head to pop out. Stretching back with legs wide apart he let out a large arc of steaming pee.

‘Shit I need this, just look at how far my piss is going.’

It seemed to David almost never ending and as the flow slowed down the trucker let out a mighty fart.

‘Sorry mate but I always let out a whopper fart when I finish pissing.’

David slightly turning away took out his good 6” cock and started to pee but was never going to make as much and let his piss go straight down onto the ground

Brady was giving his cock a good shake and turned to David,

‘Try and get you pee further way boy otherwise you will be splashing those nice chinos of yours.’

Brady stuffed the cock back down his camos but it was clear he had not shaken himself enough and David saw a large pee stain stretch out at the head of his cock.

‘Well while we are here best we have a ciggie and a beer. Let me get them out of the truck.’ Stretching inside he pulled out a packed of cigarettes and two beers.

‘I’ll light up one for you’ Brady said as he took the first puff and handed it to David.

‘I don’t smoke, I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t smoke? No one rides in my truck without a smoke mate. You smelt the inside and you made no complaint so at least give it a go. I don’t like being refused.’

With the trucker looming above him David gingerly took the cigarette and gave the smallest puff he possibly could.

Brady laughed. ‘That ain’t a fucking puff and don’t hold the ciggie like a fucking fairy. Now look watch me. Brady took the ciggie between his yellowed thumb and first finger and drew a large breath.

‘Now that’s the way. I tell you, do this and then take swig of beer and you will feel quite different about it all.’

Terrified at what might happen if he refused, David held the ciggie just like Brady and drew letting the smoke rush down the back of his throat immediately following it with a large swig of beer.

David felt the whole inside of his body warm like a large hot wave going from top to toe. To his surprise it actually felt good. How could it be when he hated smoking and generally when out he drank wine.

‘Not bad eh?’ Brady smiled.

‘Er no, I can’t believe it. Do you mind if I finish this cigarette off. I really like it especially with the beer.

‘That’s it lad, puff and swig away. It’s what we truckers do.’

As David continued puffing and drawing deeply before exhaling and then a good mouthful of beer, the warm feeling continued to surge through his body and not least all the way down to the tip of his cock. He was almost starting to feel horny and his cock was inching down his leg. He was worried about tenting but for him it was more important to finish the cigarette and beer. As he took one large swig so he let out an huge burp. He was not embarrassed. It seemed the right thing to do as he smeared his hand across his mouth

‘Tell you what boy you almost do it was a true trucker.’

‘Yeah its great. But my shirt and trousers are starting to feel really tight on me,’ David said unbuttoning his top three buttons to allow more space and then undid his belt.

‘Sure looks tight to me and I have to say though that cock of yours seems to be enjoying this. A good bit of tenting going on.’

‘I don’t know what’s going on but every puff and swig my body seems to be getting bigger. What’s more my cock is getting really itchy and making me feel almost horny.’

‘Good trucker stuff eh?’

David could feel the seams of his shirt straining and not only did the trousers seem tight but they were becoming short as well.

‘Tell you what Davey why don’t you take all your clobber off. I have some of my stuff that you can put one for now. Have to say but none of it has been washed for a good while but I reckon you will be OK with that. Go one strip off and put on my stuff.’

Brady leaned into the cabin and took out a dirty oil stained vest, a pair of camos, what were once white socks now yellow and a well worn pair of rigger boots.

David took off his clothes but by this time he felt his cock on fire and stiffening by the second. Brady threw the vest at him. David could smell it before he caught it., he could see the yellow sweat stains under the arms and the high body odour.

‘Go one take a real good puff before you put it on.’ Brady said

As David took a puff he looked at his hands. Both hands were bigger with dirty nails and the right hand had yellow nicotine stains. But it was not just the hands he noticed his arms were no longer pink, they were deep tanned brown with dark black hair forming a matt all the way up to his shoulders. The shoulders had bulked out and the hair continued over the shoulders and down his chest, hairs sprouting all the way up to his chin. As he put on the vest it suddenly smelt great, he loved the sweat marks and he took in the pungent body odour just has he had smoked at his cigarette.

His chest puffed out and he could see a large pair of nipples clearly showing though the fabric but he now had a beer belly. His waist line had gone.

‘Now get those camos on lad. You’ll feel that cock of yours get bigger as it slides down inside and you will feel those piss stains as well as my cum marks. A guy on the road has to wank.

That’s it. Now look at those chunky legs on yours and shit man that is one thick cock straining inside those camos. Now use the belt and tighten so you can feel that beer belly of yours slip over.So how are you feeling Davey boy?’

‘I know my name is David but why is my body looking like a trucker?’

‘Just take those meaty hands up to your face now.’ David took both his now stained hands up to his face and was immediately aware that he had a bushy handlebar moustache that almost came over his mouth and down both sides. The rest of his face had a heavy two day growth but it was almost more of a shock to discover his hair had gone and instead was a shiny shaved head.

He now put on the stinking used socks and his rigger boots standing at least as tall as Brady if not taller.

How did he feel?

This was not him, the cute student boy on his way back to college. He knew he now looked like a trucker, a dirty trucker smelling of sweat and ciggies, a rough and ready trucker, but shit it felt good and all he wanted was to draw deep on another ciggie, belch and fart.

‘Hey Brady got another ciggie?’

‘Sure thing Davey, let me light it for you.’

As he took the ciggie in his hand, holding it like Brady had told him. He was about to take a deep puff when Brady said

‘This is it Davey mate no going back. Its trucker time.’

‘I am a trucker mate and a fucking good one’ David said as he took a deep puff.

At that point his voice changed to much deeper and with a strong accent. David was now 100% Davey

And a horny Davey with this thick dick straining at his camos

‘Tell you want Davey that cock of yours is too good not to suck. What say you flip it out for me and while I get down on you, you just keep that ciggies in your mouth and enjoy.

‘Hoped you would fucking say that, my cocks ready to burst and I need a good deep throat to take it all.’

‘Don’t worry about that mate my mouth was made to suck dick. Here let me unzip and feel that prick of yours as I take it out.’

Brady quickly undid the flies and put his hand in grabbing the full thickness of meat.

‘Shit man that cock of yours in throbbing.’

‘Throbbing for that mouth of yours,’ Davey replied so get it out and into yer mouth.’

Brady pulled out the thick cock

‘Jesus its thick the whole way down and what a fucking bush of pubes you’ve got. Keep smoking mate I’m ready.’

Brady got down on his knees and let his spit ooze out over the cock head and then used his tongue to slowly lick all around the cock head, feeling the rim before the full shaft. His hand was gripped around the shaft and he could feel the veins throb as he guided the head towards his mouth.. Davey stood with his legs astride, his arms folded and his ciggie drooping down from his lips as he inhaled. he let out a fart

‘Having me cock sucked always makes me fart. Hope you can smell with my hairy armpits mate. Now get on with the suck. Don’t just bloody rim I want to see that mouth of yours up at my pubes.’

Brady opened his mouth wide and breathing carefully let the cock enter and start slowly to move down the back of his throat.

Davey taking one hand top hold his ciggies and exhale, took his other arm and grabbed Brady’s head.

‘Let me guide you all the way in,’ he said. ‘Let me control how you suck me. Let me feel those lips of yours press round my shaft. Now get your hands around my arse. I’ll let down my camos so you can feel my strong hairy cheeks. I want you to grab all the hairs and my arse and make sure you get a couple of finger up my crack. I like to feel my hole being opened slightly so I then push further and further down your throat. That really turns me on.’

Now that Davey was controlling Brady’s head and his mouth he was able to have both hands free to massage Davey’s hairy arse and he could feel the soft opening of his hole as his finger pushed passed the opening and into the hole.

Feeling the finger inside him, made Davey pull Brady’s head into towards him, the cock moving all the way down. At last Brady could feel the curly pubes against his face

‘What a fucking sucker you are mate. That mouth of yours was made for my dick. Get a fucking move on as I’ll need to light up another ciggie soon. All this makes me puff more.

Now take your mouth almost out and I’ll force you in. Then we can up the speed. Keep fingering my hole I love it.’

Davey now had both hands on Brady’s head pushing and pulling ever more quickly and the more he did the more Brady’s hands worked the hairy arse until 4 fingers were well and truly up inside.

‘Fuck man me arse feels great with those fingers up. I’m almost ready mate. Take yer mouth out of my dick now and I’ll finish myself off. I want to see my spunk over that face of yours.’ Brady sat back his eyes firmly fixed on Daveys cock. It only needed a few quick strokes for Davey to release his spunk. ‘Now take my spunk and let me see it over that face of yours.’ Great arcs of spunk shot out at Brady who tried to swallow as much as possible the rest over eyes and nose, great globs of spunk rolling down his chin and stuck on his beard.

‘Shit man those balls of yours have been building up.’

‘Sure thing mate I was needing to empty and what a fucking mess of your face.’

‘No probs man I’ll wipe off what I can and then I can stink of your spunk. Suits me. And tell you what man my cock is aching after that but you and I ain’t finished. Remember you are my mate and mates serve and help out.

As Davey spat out the ciggie, he puts his dripping cock back int the camos, a good sized stain appearing and then he lit up another ciggie.

Brady made a call

‘Is that you Mick? Just to let you know I have a new mate. You will like this one. He’s got the lot. Knowing you, thought you might like to meet up for a sandwich at our usual place. We can be there in the next hour.’

‘Sounds too good to miss mate. I’ll be there. Feeling horny just at the thought.’

‘You ain’t the only one horny. See you.’

The two guys got back into the truck.

‘So Davey mate, gonna see a chum of mine as he wants to meets you. Known him for ages and I think you will like.’

In the meantime keep one of yer hands on my crotch and give us a bit of a rub. I’m still hard after that blow job I gave you.’

‘I can do better than that’ Davey replied. ‘Let me get that cock of yours out and give you a suck as we drive along. Truckers love cumin when they drive and don’t tell me you are any different.’

Davey unzipped the camos and pulled out the long hard cock.

‘Shit that’s a good one you got there mate a real 9”, straight as a ram rod. Bet that’s felt when it goes up a crack.’

‘Never had any complaints.’

‘No fucking wonder, with that cock you have to be a good fucker.’

‘I sure am. Now get that head of yours down and let me have the blow job you are promising. Love you sucking and all those cars can’t see what you are up to.’

Davey lowered his lips onto the cock head and let his spit ooze out and down the shaft.

‘May not be able to get it all the way down in this position mate but once my lips are clenched around that shaft of yours you will be ready to spunk.’

Davey opened his mouth wide and started lowering his head down the shaft, one hand around the base of the cock stroking the big heavy pair of balls.

‘That’s it mate give me balls a yank and good squeeze, brings out my spunk like a fucking rocket taking off.’

As Davey let his mouth slide up and down the shaft with increasing speed so he yanked the balls down as much as they could go.

‘Fucking hell mate me balls as bursting with the strength of that grab. That’s it suck and pull. ‘Jesus I’m ready to shoot. I’m cumming.’

As Brady leant back in the seat Davey took his mouth out but held tight to the balls and Brady let out a great stream of spunk, the white juice spouting up and hitting the windscreen of the truck.

‘Fucking hell, what a load of spunk you got there. I luv seeing it smash the windscreen glass. Just as I wanted to happen.’

Davey leant back over Bradys cock and took the remaining cum into his mouth.

‘Nice and salty.’

Brady replied, ‘Better clean the window so I can see out. All those drivers will be wondering what’s covering the glass. My fucking spunk. Not long until we meet up with Mike.’

The two guys pulled into a layby with another truck already parked up in front. There was only room for the two trucks so none were likely to interupt Brady’s plans.

Mike was standing outside the toilet waiting giving himself a gentle rub as the two blokes

approached.

‘So this is your new mate.’ Mike said ‘I see what you mean Brady.’

Mike was a good 6’ 2’ well built with muscular legs and wide shoulders. Tattoos down both

arms which bulged out from his T shirt. The T shirt was short revealing a hairy base to his

chest and well worn jeans showed a well used crotch where the denim was starting to fray.

Davey could make out not just the line of his cock but see the head try to push its way

out of the frayed jeans.

‘Shit am I glad that you asked to meet up. Ever since your call my cock has been twitching

and looking at you Davey boy its gonna be some sandwich.’

‘What’s all this about a sandwich.’

‘Well Davey you are the filling and Mike and I the bread so let’s get inside as I’m needing a

fuck after your blow job.’

The three men entered the urinal area which stank of stale piss.

‘Shit, I love this place and the smell makes me even more hard.’ Mike said rubbing his cock

harder. Looks as though you have a big one down there Davey. Let me have a rub.’

Davey lit up a ciggie and said ‘help yourself mate. If I am the filling then you are bit of bread

Im gonna take so hope you like big thick cock.’

‘Fuckin do Davey. When Brady called and suggested we meet I got my big black rubber dildo

out and let it slide up inside me while driving so my hole is well prepared for whatever you

got down there.’ As Mike rubbed Davey’s dick, it got harder and harder inching all the way

down inside his camos until it was hard as a brick.

‘Fuck it is big, bigger than my dildo but at least my hole is now nice and open for you.’

‘Turn and face the wall,’ Davey demanded, ‘and hands up and stick that arse of yours out.’

Davey then put his nicotine stained hands around Mick’s waist and undid the buttons on his

frayed jeans pulling them down to his ankles.

‘Nice furry arse you got there mate just as I like.’ Davey then gave both cheeks a good slap.

‘Warm them up for you mate.’

Davey stood back and unzipped his camos pulling out his thick meaty cock letting a good

gob of spit onto the shaft. Putting both arms around Mike he let his throbbing cock find

Mike’s hole. His hole opened up to take the dick, Mike’s arse moving back so he could take

the full length.

‘Fuck man that’s way better than my dildo. I can feel your cock throbbing as you push it up.’

‘No bloody wonder with a hole as wide as you’ve got Mike. As Davey pressed his hairy chest

against Mike’s back , Mike turned his head and said

‘Let me smell your hairy armpits. I love sweaty hairy pits and you’ve a great amount of hair

hanging down there.’ Davey lifted an arm and Mike’s head buried into the pit licking the

hair and taking in the unwashed smell.

‘Fucking hell you’ve not washed for days. Such a fucking turn on.’

Meanwhile Brady was watching and stroking his own cock.

‘Seeing you two lads going at it is so fucking great. My cocks on fire here needing to shed

some spunk and that arse of yours Davey is ripe for the taking.’

Brady unzipped Davey’s camos and dropped them then took out his long rigid cock. Now it’s

time you become the real filling , stretch your legs apart for me but keep your cock in Mike

as he fucking loving your dick and armpits. That hole of yours needs no spit its time I take

you raw.’

‘Stop the fucking talking Brady and fuck me. My arse is ready for you and once you are up

me to the hilt, I’ll give Mike a fuck he won’t forget.’

As Brady pushed his cock further up Davey’s hole he put his arms around Davey’s chest and

started to massage his nipples through the vest.

‘Fuck mate, you know I like me nips worked on through the vest. Makes me so fucking horny

and quit the massage give them a good nip and that will make me stick my arse more for

you and make me push me cock all the way up Mike’ss arse so my pubes are tight against

his hairy arse.

‘Jesus Brady yank at his nipples even more as it sure is making him fuck me up to the hilt.’

‘The only one who’s snot having his cock worked is you Mike,’ Davey said bringing his hand

round to grasp the long shaft. You need a good wank while I fuck you and I love me hand

round a guys shaft while he has my cock all the way up him. Keep smelling my armpits you

dirty bastard. Not bad eh, my stinking armpits, my hand jacking you off and my cock about

to give you a sea of my juice. Cum on Brady let that cock of yours slide in and out but when

in I want to feel if almost coming out my mouth so thrust well.’

The two fuckers were hammering each other with their pricks while Davey’s hand rubbed

harder and harder up Micks shaft.

Davey shouted.

‘Hey men fucking and being fucked I’m about to come so let’s all shoot at the same time,

and your cum I wanna see shoot against the wall and leave as a reminder to those that

come in after us. Keep going on my nips Brady.’

Both Mick and Brady shouted, ‘Yeah we are ready man let’s all cum.’

And with that all three truckers let rip with spray after spray of cum

‘Fucking hell this is the best fuck ever.’ Davey shouted.

The three men slumped against each other and slowly withdrew their cocks from the holes,

the last drops of cum spilling on to the floor.

‘That was some fucking sandwich mate.’ Mike said. ‘Glad you called me, just what I was

needing and a great trucker you now have.’

‘Yeah Mike I think he is the best yet’.

‘Tell you what I wouldn’t mind having him with me.’

‘I ain’t giving him up that easily.’

‘Maybe I have a say in all this. I’m now a dirty trucker and that’s thanks to Brady but for me

now life in on the road with ciggies, beer and a good fuck. So I’ll tell you what I think you

could do a bit of sharing with me. Mike’s hole is fucking amazing and Brady you fuck like a

pro though I wanna have a go with you being up against the wall soon. So for the mo I stick

with you Brady but Mike be ready it will be your turn. Then we are all happy.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Brady and Mick said in unison.

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calliopefiction · 20 days

Note

I was wondering if you had a detailed description of what Az'lean's armor looks like? There's a good amount written about the colorscheme, but I'm having a hard time imagining the shape of it/any details that might be a part of it. I only ask because I started drawing him a headshot, but I think the piece is going decently thus far, and wanted to make it something closer to a fullbody drawing, if possible >:]

First of all, that looks amazing so far! I love his expression, it's perfect!

I'm not great at describing armour, admittedly, but I'll give it my best shot. Here's how I invision it:

All things considered, it's more on the plain side. No surcoat, no cape, no helmet, no extravagent engravings. However, it is very well maintained and polished. Underneath he wears simple, padded clothing.

Pauldrons for each shoulder, both the same size since he's ambidextrous and attacks with both his left and right arm. You know that bit of overhang pauldrons have at the top? That's slightly pointed, like an arch.

A cuirass consisting of a chestplate and a backplate. Instead of being fully rounded, it has that crease in the middle, and the bottom ends in another slightly pointed arch. It has a high neckguard.

One regular gauntlet, with leather inside and plates on the outside, and then of course on the other hand his massive clawed gauntlet. Very sharp, long, blade-like fingers on that one.

Not sure what you call that type of leg armour, but it's basically like strapped on, thigh-high metal plates, with rounded knee-guards. Ends in what looks like a pointed metal shoe that you put over your normal leather boots. Greaves I think they're called? It looks like a super pointy metal shoe, in any case.

I hope that description helps!

#misplaced #misplaced if

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blackkatmagic · 29 days

Note

hi!! i love your writing so, so much. your characterizations are always so well thought out and you pack so much into even a few sentences. could i ask for neyo, for the game?

(asdffdfkgdk you're so sweet thank you!!)

It’s not a place clones are meant to be, or meant to find. Neyo doesn’t intend to go looking for it, but—

That’s how these sorts of things always start, maybe.

Drenched, freezing, limbs shaking so hard that he couldn’t aim a blaster if his life depended on it, Neyo drags himself out of the deep river where the shallows finally slow, scrambles up the bank as best he can when the eddies want to drag him back. Water pours from what armor he wasn’t able to tear off when he went under, and the air burns in comparison to the icy river, even though the planet is a cold one, still caught in the throes of an ice age.

The cavern Neyo stumbles up into is warm, though, even more so than as a comparison to the ice melt would suggest. There are crystals burning along the walls, and a deep metal cauldron full of something that shines and shifts and throws off unbearable heat, enough of it that Neyo's blacks are already steaming. He raises a hand to shield his eyes, but his gaze is still drawn to the far end of the massive hall, where a figure in armor sits slumped, lifeless, on a steel throne.

Heavy and expansive, the hush prickles at Neyo's skin, and he looks from the fire-bright glow of the long hall back to the black rush of the river, breath still coming rough and fast in his lungs. For a moment he’s tempted to retreat, to go back into the water, try to find some other way to the surface.

Windu will be looking for him, he thinks. It’s not a thought he would have had three months ago, when the GAR deployed, but—it’s the truth. Windu saw him go into the water, and that means Windu will look for him as long as the admirals allow. Neyo won't be left behind, abandoned on a Separatist world.

Strange. Jarring, to know that as simply as he knows how to breathe.

Grimacing, Neyo rubs a hand over his face, drags it over his wet hair and straightens deliberately. The hall is full of suits of armor and what look like powered-down droids, left standing against the walls like sentinels. There are holotables too, and a rack of spears that look impossibly old, and—

A body, half-hidden by the brazier. A body curled at the armored man’s feet, head resting right between his boots.

Something shivers down Neyo's spine, and he takes a step forward despite himself, drawn like there's a magnetic pull. The scene hits, resonates, hums through his bones as he stares at tattered, rough-spun robes gone grey with dust, an oddly preserved face with a fall of brown hair, a mark seared between the man’s brows. A Jedi, is his first thought, and he takes another step forward before he finally raises his gaze to the body in armor, slumped sideways in the throne.

This planet is an old one. People have lived here since the time of the Rakata, Windu said. It’s not even unusual to trip across some historical artefact, buried along a forgotten river. But something about this feels strange, Neyo thinks, and has to carefully draw a breath into lungs that feel tight, like awe or maybe fear is riding him. That prickle runs across his skin again, too much electricity, and he takes another step, then stops.

There's a lightsaber clipped to the man’s belt. The armored man, not the one in an approximation of Jedi robes. And there's a hand pressed, almost reverent, to the curve of rust-red armor, a flash of something crystalline beneath curled fingers.

For an instant, Neyo almost turns and runs. The river seems a safer choice, and he stares at the two men, at the tableau, at the devotion that’s so clear even so long after death, with something humming heady and fearful in his veins. The river is right there behind him, but—

He steps forward instead of back, moves down the long hall with careful, wary steps. Nothing moves, and the ancient tech is still, unresponsive. The bodies don’t move either, even though Neyo halfway expects them to. When he passes the brazier, the heat intense and almost painful, there's a shiver in the light, like the crystals flickered, but they don’t go dark, and Neyo casts them a glance but doesn’t hesitate as he sinks to one knee beside the man who might be a Jedi.

When he reaches out, the crystalline orb tucked beneath the dead man’s palm seems to move on its own, dropping right into his fingers—

A crackle. A surge, golden and blazing like a trapped sun, that crashes through Neyo's muscles and bones and stays, sinking barbed hooks into his flesh, his mind, his soul—

Neyo hits the ground, vision wavering, head spinning as he claws at bare stone, tries to pull himself up. The crystal is melting, pooling over his bare hand, dripping down his arm, and Neyo might be screaming, might be crying out for help or mercy or something else entirely.

And then, slow, deliberate, like he was just waiting for the right moment, the man on the throne turns his head. He looks down at Neyo, eyes glowing behind his blood-rust helmet, and pauses. One huge hand curls in the Jedi's brown hair, possessive, precise, and the man says, like it’s a revelation, “You have Taung blood.”

Neyo can't breathe, let alone answer, and the world is spinning dark and heavy again, too much for him to bear.

It doesn’t seem to matter. The man on the throne leans down, catching Neyo's chin, tipping his head, and then—

A rumble of sound, thick with humor and no little spiteful satisfaction. “More of our blood than most,” the man says, and lets go. Neyo struggles to rise, to get away, but his muscles won't answer, his body won't respond even as he fights the deadness of his limbs like a wild thing, furious and afraid.

“Like a spark,” the man says, and leans back, catching the limp arm of the other body, pulling. He drags the maybe-Jedi into his lap, sprawling back like the throne was made only for him, and tips his head, something pleased and pensive in the motion.

“Forge-fire,” he says, and it’s an order, a command that burns into Neyo's skin. He gasps, clawing at stone, but the world is darkening, the hall fading. The heat slides like liquid across his skin, heavy as water, and the crystal eating into his skin burns like acid—

“—Commander! Neyo!”

Shock jars Neyo awake, and he jerks up, over, coughing hard. There's water in his lungs, an ache in his chest like broken ribs, but there's a hand on his shoulder too, a body beside him. Warm cloth drapes over him, blocking out the chill of the air, and Neyo clutches at it, drags it closer around himself as he chokes and gags up what feels like half a river’s worth of water.

“Neyo,” Windu says, thick with relief, and there's a breath, a hand under Neyo's elbow. “Forgive me, but we have to go. There are droids on their way, and Ponds has a speeder waiting.”

Windu came for him. Even after enemy lines moved, Neyo thinks, and nods, forcing his eyes open. When Windu helps him up, he staggers, leans fully on Windu's strength for a moment as he reorients himself.

Just a strange dream, he thinks, even if he’s never dreamed like that before. Brass’s stories about hidden treasure and lost empires twisted up with the stress of hypothermia, and—

Crystal catches the sunlight, shivering, shimmering where it’s pockmarked across Neyo's skin like a spill of molten metal, and Neyo freezes, staring at it as his mind trips, trips, trips over the fact of its existence.

His blacks are dry, too. He’s coughing up water, but his blacks are perfectly dry.

“Commander?” Windu asks, concerned, and Neyo instantly pulls his sleeve down, hides the crystal beneath the drape of Windu's robe.

Clones get decommissioned for saying strange things. Neyo's made sure to never let himself slip outside of normal limits, has never shown emotion, has never indulged in the bits of rebellion clones use to define themselves. He’s been a good soldier.

One strange encounter in the dark won't change that. He won't let it.

“Just catching my breath, sir,” he says, and Windu nods, perfectly trusting, perfectly willing to believe him.

“I'm glad I found you,” he says, and it’s so honest that Neyo has to close his eyes and just…breathe for a moment.

He thinks of the possible Jedi on the ground beneath that huge Mandalorian's boots, the press of a lifeless hand to rust-red armor. Thinks of the word the Mandalorian used, the weight of his stare.

Taung, he’d said. Sparks and forge-fire.

It shivers through Neyo, hot like that hidden cavern, and he swallows hard, makes himself move forward as Windu helps him down the slope.

Just a dream, he thinks, pressing his fingers to the slickness of the crystal in his skin. And yet.

And yet.

#my writing #commander neyo #mandalore the indomitable #ulic qel droma #star wars #forge-fire au

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icarusredwings · 1 month

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Save a horse...

(SFW, Read the tags. 1/2

Promts: One's on purpose. The other is oblivious. Can you guess which is which?

"..I didn't know that was a gay bar.")

Pov, you're currently a drunk and slightly nervous Wade Wilson - Not Deadpool. Wade Wilson. You know, that guy who's so insecure about his entire body that he covered 100% of it and often times has multiple costumes/masks on because it's a metaphor for how he actually feels on the inside? Yeah. Him.

You are also currently sitting in a midwestern country bar with a shitty luke warm beer waiting for your 'Room mate' to say he's ready to come home. Watching how lit up he gets when around ranch hands and hard whiskey makes you tip your hat in fear you might actually look like there's pepperoni on your face from how red it's getting.

Slouching into your chair further, you start grumbling how the joke wasn't even that funny and that you could make a joke 10 times funnier, but you promised previously to behave yourself. Plus, you weren't doing so hot anyway. This was your 8th one as it was, and already you were watching his every move. How his canines sat when he smirked, how his arm hung over the back of his chair, how his boots crossed under the table, how he used the bottle in his hand as almost a speaking point, making geastures with it as he litsened, responding to their stories with his own. Right now the topic was about fixing fences and Horses escaping, riding horses, etc.

Honestly, he's heard worse. Ten year old girls talk more seriously about horses than these 4 rugged grown beareded men.. it seemed so boring..

Oh god. At this point, you're wondering why you even came. You clearly didn't fit in here, and these jeans did NOT do you any favors in the front. Was this why he was always so bitchy? Because his balls were getting strangled together by denim all the time?

It's not until you hear something in which you perk up. "Wade. Wade! Come're! Tell'em bout tha' there one time, will ya?"

Blinking, you wondered. Did you hear that, right? That beautiful draw and slur in his words calling for YOU of all people?

"Come on boy! We wont bite!" One of the men laughed. You could of sworn you just heard Logan chuckle and say "You better not.." in a tone that was... not firmiliar.

Slowly, You get up and stagger over only to be grabbed by the massive belt buckle and pulled close. His arm wrapping around your waist as he looked up at you with such shiney yet hammered eyes. "Tell'em!"

"Tell them what?"

"Bout the thing."

"Which thing?"

"Ya know the- Oh wait ya weren't there for that. Well shit, sorry...Oh! Wade, thi's Buck, Cletus and Mark. Have a seat."

For a moment, you blink as if he's gone mad. There were no seats left. Only 4 at one table. And as much as you'd love to just sit on his lap, there's no way he'd allow that. Not in front of these guys. Manly men didn't let other men sit on their laps in public. He's learned that the hard way.

"How much have you had, Wolfie?"

"Ah! Nevermin' that! Sit!" As if God himself awnsered your prayers he dragged you down into his lap, keeping you sat sideways and with an arm around you for no reason at all other then to claim dominance? Territory even? Just.. cause?

Either way, you find yourself a bit too shocked to speak, but let's be honest, that never lasts long. Trying to hide your face, You mutter;

"So...new friends of yours?" You ask the beast of a man who's locked his arm onto your hip.

"Cowfolk are usually quite... fond.. of one another." Buck says as if trying to tell you something, but you were far too knackered to get it the first go.

"We got a way of finding each other." Mark speaks up.

"Oh, do you now?" You ask, sounding intrigued.

It was now that you understood FULLY why he brought you to this bar specifically. Or was he even aware? No he couldn't be that dull- well...

Suddenly, you relaxed completely into his arms, wrapping an arm loosely around his neck, fitting into him like a puzzle piece. Like a wave of relief that you could infact show affection in here. It made you wonder if that was why Logan was so handsy or if he was just three sheets to the wind.

"Mmh. It's how we found ol' Logan here." Cletus made the mistake of saying and smiling at the muscly hairy man in a way Wade knew far too well.

Giving a quick, threatening glance, you take off your hat and put it on top of his head while staring them dead in the face. Howlett wasn't the only one who was territorial..

#logan howlett #pov #wolverine fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine #wolverpool #poolverine #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #country gay #wade wilson x logan howlett #deadpool 3 #domestic stuff #save a horse ride a wolverine #possesiveness #Spotify

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catsharky · 3 months

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Wanted to post these separate from my Art Fight post because I spent too long on these references (really just Fallstreak's tbh) to keep them hidden away on the AF site. Also cause I love these guys and I haven't really talked about them much on here.

So for anyone who was curious about the previous art I posted of these OCs, have some actual information about them!

Nell

Full name Abnell Roache (will also accept 'Nella', but loathes being called 'Nelly'). A health and safety inspector for an interstellar cargo company, Nell becomes stranded on an ocean planet when the ship she's auditing- the ACS Endurance- experiences a catastrophic engine failure and tears itself in two.

Adrift on an endless alien sea with no guarantee of rescue and little emergency food, she has to survive with the help of Bas: an (illegal) AI inhabiting the chassis of her life pod's survival assistant. With her only goals being survival and finding any other survivors, she's unprepared to find herself making humanity's first contact with another sapient species; an alien biologist named Fallstreak who has also found himself trapped on the planet.

She's thrilled to learn about Fallstreak and his people, as well as teach him as much as she can about humanity, and if she has an immediate, massively obvious crush on the tall faceless alien? Well, the only other person there to complain is Bas. Which he does. A lot.

Bas (Pronounced 'Baz')

An illegal AI inhabiting the chassis of a life pod survival assistant (though to clarify, in this universe all true AI are illegal because they require a human brain scan to be made and that's a legal rights nightmare). After years of only knowing his 'father', Richter (the engineer aboard the Endurance who purchased and programmed him), he boots up to find his home destroyed, his father dead, and himself in the company of a total stranger; Nell.

He has a lot to deal with: keeping Nell alive, figuring out how to interact with someone other than Richter while also mourning his death, and acting as a middle-man/interpreter between Nell (who he has rapidly developed what seem to be romantic feelings towards) and Fallstreak (an alien biologist who's captured Nell's interest without even knowing what he has).

And to top it all off? He has a text-to-speech Australian accent.

Fallstreak

An alien biologist with a bio-mechanical body, named after the cloud formation (look up 'Fallstreak holes', they're neat!) that most closely resembled an event that occurred on the day of his birth.

Extremely curious and wants to learn everything about his two new companions, as well as share his knowledge with them. Verbal language is all but entirely unused by his species, however, so the language barrier between Fallstreak and Nell+Bas is a large one. Thanks to Bas' assistance, he's able to understand spoken communication fairly well, and speaks (in very broken sentence structure) by vibrating the membranes in his gill openings, resulting in a voice that sounds somewhat like early English vocaloids; understandable but clearly not a natural voice.

Living a fairly solitary life isn't uncommon for his species, and he hasn't had the opportunity to experience romantic interest before, so when he meets Nell and begins to fall for her, he's more than a little confused (oblivious) about what his emotions are doing. Unfortunately draws some jealous ire from Bas as a result, but is pretty oblivious to the AI's attempted rivalry.

All three of these guys are from a WIP comic called The Rive that I hope to finish some day. I have most of the story figured out, and quite a bit of it scripted and ready to go, I just need to actually draw the damn thing.

#ocs #oc: nell #oc: bas #oc: fallstreak #The Rive #alien boyfriend #sharky art

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year

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Fall Drabbles, Day 7

prompt: flannel

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank loves that you wear his clothes but would rather you stay warm when you're not feeling well.

warnings: swearing, brief non-graphic descriptions of illness, fluff

a/n: I keep warning for swearing but I don't even think these all have swearing lol. Anyways, another one in the Lumberjack!Frank AU!

w/c: <1k

Treading up the hill through the snow, Frank hefted the pile of freshly split logs to the top of the existing stack, except for the handful he carried under his arm and into the cabin. Kicking off his boots, he carefully placed two new logs into the dying fire, stirring the embers before replacing the screen as quietly as he could.

The house was dark, quiet—lacking the life that you usually brought to it. That was what he expected tonight, though. He'd been out later than usual, a cacophony of nightmares and intrusive thoughts plaguing his mind as he hacked into tree after tree. Combined with the fact that you were feeling under the weather, he was glad to come home to a silent house and a diminishing fire rather than an exhausted, yet awake, girlfriend.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he plopped down on the sofa, snatching his current read from the end table as he sat. As he made his way through a few chapters, the growing heat from the flames pushed the chill from his aging bones. Shifting onto his side, a soft padding caught his attention. You shuffled out from his bedroom, rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

“Hiya, sleepyhead.” Frank murmured, catching you as you collapsed into his lap. “How're ya feelin'?“

Giving a half-hearted shrug, you nestled in against him. ”Little better.“ Your poor voice was scratchy and quiet as a mouse. He was overcome with the urge to whisk you back into the bedroom and bundle you up tightly—especially when he registered that your outfit was only a flannel shirt.

”Hmm, ya don't sound too good. Ain't ya chilly, sweetheart?“ He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing one hand over your exposed thigh in an attempt to warm you up.

Nodding against his neck, you shuddered. Frowning, Frank pressed a kiss to your head. “Why don't we get ya somethin' better to wear? Ya look adorable in my shirt, doll, but it ain't the warmest choice.”

Making a mournful noise of protest, you wrapped the soft fabric tightly around yourself. “I like it. It's soft, like you.”

Frank chuckled at the unique description of himself, hand still stroking your bare leg. “A'right, let's get ya some pants, at least.”

Gently setting you on your feet, Frank's heart swelled with a protective affection when you shyly took his hand as he led you to the bedroom. You looked so small in his massive shirt, arms completely dwarfed by the plaid sleeves

Finding his softest pair of sweats, he held them up. “How 'bout these?”

At your sleepy yet affirmative nod, he gestured for you to sit before slipping the pants over your legs. Tying the string tightly to prevent the oversized fabric from falling down, Frank perched next to you, holding you upright as a coughing fit bent you at the waist.

“Christ, doll, you ok?” In lieu of a response, you sighed roughly and let him put an arm around your sagging shoulders. “Why don't I make ya somethin’ hot to drink before we both get some rest?”

“Yes please.” You whispered, hoarsely. Kissing your cheek tenderly, Frank stood up and made for the door—only to be pulled back by your weak grip.

“Can I come?” Your voice cracked around the request and he winced as his own throat ached in sympathy.

“If you want to, darlin’,” He nodded, grasping your waist to help you off the bed.

Once in the kitchen, Frank got to work. Grabbing a lemon, some honey, and a bottle of whiskey from the pantry, he pulled you flush against him as the water started to boil—tucking your unusually warm head under his chin and drawing circles over your back.

Grimacing at the shrill whistle from the teapot, you withdrew from his comforting embrace, giving an insincere smile when he showed you the silly mug he’d set aside.

Frank made quick work of the task at hand, whipping up the hot toddy with ease and passing it to you. “Careful, darlin’, it’s hot.”

Nodding blearily, you gratefully accepted the mug, pulling it to your flannel-covered chest with a small sigh of relief. “Thank you.” You murmured, blowing on the liquid before taking a few small sips. Humming appreciatively, you closed your eyes.

“Anytime, babydoll.”

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #punisher #nmcu #the punisher netflix #my writing #fc #fall prompts 2023

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mommymccabe · 1 year

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Pre-game Panic

Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader

Summary: Katie McCabe. The Irish captain. The bane of your existence. On and off the pitch, always making life harder than necessarily with her unreasonable hatred for you. Despite her attitude, you had a massive crush on her. I mean cmon, she's Katie McCabe how could you not. As an Arsenal team member, you two should get along fabulously. But since the day you signed the contract to join the team, Katie has had it out for you.

Whether it be her attitude, insults or game play, she always found a way to cause you harm. You never understood the woman til a game against Chelsea uncovered the truth behind her actions.

Words: 2000

Warnings: fluff/angst, mean Katie, bad writing, panic attacks (let me know if i missed anything)

____________________________

You've been at Arsenal for 3 months now. You've proved to be a valuable member of the team with the various assists and goals to your name. Everyone loves you, except for the one and only Katie McCabe. For reasons unknown to you, she hates you.

It's game day in Etihad Stadium against Arsenal's rivals, Chelsea. As you and the rest of the team get ready in the change room, nervousness fills you. You're always nervous before a game but this is different. You've always been quiet, never one to talk much and definitely hated conflict. Which is why the Irish woman's unrelenting cruelty towards you impacts you so much.

You've always admired her. Being only 21, you grew up watching and admiring many of your now teammates. Especially Caitlin, Steph and Katie, being the true Irish-Aussie you were. You always admired Katies's determination and passion for the game, throwing her all into every match. But her harsh words and ice cold glares aimed only at you quickly changed your perspective on the older woman.

As you sit in the change rooms trying to calm your racing heart as well as the nauseous feeling that starts to bubble, Katie walks in. The nervous feeling increases tenfold as you sit down attempting to combat the dizziness you suddenly feel.

'Everything alright Y/n?' Caitlin asks with a worried look.

This catches the attention of almost every player. You can feel the eyes of everyone in the room burning into your skin. You simply nod, hoping it's enough the relieve their worries and draw the attention away from you. Most of them accepted the gesture and returned to what they were doing. But you could still feel eyes on you. As you looked up, you make eye contact with Caitlin and manage a weak smile, still seated and trying to calm yourself down.

'She's probably just worried about missing every shot and disappointing everyone. Like normal' Katie pipes up.

'Can we please not do this right now' you whisper, unable to do much more with the overwhelming feelings of pure fear and nervousness.

'What was that, darling?' Katie says with a condescending smile.

The look on her face has you ready to walk out. But this is an important game for your team and you don't want to let her win this ridiculous feud she seems to have created.

'Nothing asshole' you reply. Eyes still trained on your boots.

'What did you just call me?' Katie responds angrily.

As she slowly approaches you from the other side of the locker room, Steph steps up to her and tells her to back off, pointing out that not only did she start it but she always starts it and right now everyone needs to focus on the game.

But you don't realise Steph had stopped her, stuck in a trance as you wait for her to be standing above you, angry and ready to go.

The thought has you nearly hyperventilating.

Normally you would just roll your eyes and move on despite Katie's cruelty. But with already being on the verge of a panic attack, Katie's clear anger sent you into a new level of fear.

As you abruptly stand and attempt to leave the room, Steph turns around and holds your arms, trying to get you to meet her eyes as your breathing picks up.

'Hey, what's wrong?' Steph calmly asks.

You quickly glance up at her, eyes wide and hands shaking, you simply shake your head and attempt to turn and run. Steph, being stronger and taller, is able to keep hold of you as you try to wiggle out of her grip.

She pulls your head against her chest and she orders everyone out of the room. Caitlin Foord moves around next to Steph and does her best to help your breathing settle while Katie just stands there looking shocked and guilty. Nothing seems to help you calm down as Steph keeps holding you and Caitlin keeps talking to you.

Katie, finally stepping in moves to your side and pushes Caitlin out of the way and stands in front of you. She watches as your eyes frantically move around the locker room and your body shakes in Catley's arms.

'Y/n, look at me' Katie's firm and demanding voice draws your attention to her as you make eye contact with the woman. She wraps an arm around your waist and firmly squeezes in attempt to ground you.

'What are 5 things you can see?' she gently asks.

'You....Cait....the benches....the clock on the wall....bags' you manage through your rough breathing and frantic form.

'Good job love, now what are 4 things you can feel?' Katie asks

'Steph...your hand on my waist...and, I don't know, i'm sorry.' you squeak out as your breathing starts to pick up again.

'That's okay, you're doing so good. Keep going for me yeah? What are 3 things you can hear?' She tried again to calm you down.

'Your voice...Steph's heart beat..the team outside' your breath slowing near the end making it easier to talk.

'Good job, darling. Now 2 thing you can smell' she whispers in your ear having moved closer to you.

'Your perfume and and Steph's smelly jersey' you giggle at the end along with the other women, your breathing having nearly returned to normal.

'That's it darling, and what's 1 thing you can taste' Katie whispers looking at me as I stare at her.

'The gum i was chewing earlier' you mumble out in exhaustion.

'You did so good angel' Katie replies as Steph carefully guides your body into Katie's arms.

As you and Katie move to sit on a nearby bench, she moves you to have you straddling her waist as she leans against the wall, your head falling into her neck as you near the point of sleep.

'I'm so sorry I hurt you' you hear Katie whisper before you fall asleep against her.

_____________________________

As you come to, groggy and still drained, Katie makes her presence know.

'You're okay, i'm here' she mumbles into your hair.

You quickly shoot up after hearing her voice and realising she wasn't just next to you, she was under you.

As you try to remove yourself from on her you mumble a quick 'I'm sorry'. But before you could finish your apology or move, Katie pulled you back down on top of her and whispered to you

'No, i'm sorry. I had no right to treat you the way i did. I was awful to you to the point where I caused you a panic attack. I never realised how much i was hurting you. I'm so sorry, Y/n.'

You listen to her with your head in her neck, the same way you fell asleep and woke up. You thought about what she said and couldn't help but ask;

'Why do you hate me Katie?'

'I don't hate you darling.' she replies

'Then why' you ask angrily

'I didn't mean for it to go this far. It started as just a thing we do to the new players but I took it way too far. It was never my intention to be so cruel and rude. It was meant to be a joke. I promise you I do not hate you, I could never hate you.' she whispered the last part, mostly to herself but you heard her.

You sat up to look at her.

'What's that supposed to mean?' you stare at her as she looks away, unable to make eye contact.

'Ever since you joined the team, I haven't been able to get you off my mind. Maybe it's why i took it too far, so annoyed that you were all i could think about, I tried to hate you and give you a reason to hate me.' she says, finally meeting my eyes.

'What are you saying Katie?' you ask, demanding a straight forward answer to clear the confusion and surprise.

'I'm saying I love you Y/n Y/l/n. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I know i've been so awful to you but I can't help but love you.'

You sit on top of her, holding yourself up with your hands on her shoulders, hers on your waist, completely shocked. You've always admired her and had the biggest crush on her but to hear her confess her love to you made your heart sore and brings you to the point of near tears.

'I'm sorry, please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you upset i-'

Her sentence cut off by your lips on hers. This feels so perfect, like this is the way it's meant to be. You melt into her and the contact as she runs her hands up and down your back as you make out in the change rooms. Oh no. The game.

You abruptly rip yourself off her as she jumps up to calm you down.

'The game. Oh my god I forgot about it. What time is it? When does it start?' You frantically spit out spinning in circles trying to settle your mind and pull yourself together preparing to play, until a hand on your waist and face draw your attention back to the Irish woman and her smirk.

'Hey, it's over, it's okay. We won. Steph went to tell Jonas we were sick or something, whatever she came up with. It's all okay, you're okay love.' she says and her smirk only grows at the way you react to her touch, arms curl around her neck as you place your forehead against hers.

'I can't believe you let me sleep through it, asshole' you say against her as she laughs.

'There'll be plenty more games to play darlin'. Now should we head off?' she asks

'Yeah I wanna go home to bed, i'm so tired.' you state. Katie looks at you guiltily and says;

'I'm sorry I hurt you, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you baby'

'Please, just don't do it again. Please don't hurt me.' you beg as Katie wraps her arms around you and says

'Never. I would never dream of hurting you y/n. I promise love' she says on the verge of tears

You lean into her and look up at her.

'I love you, Katie McCabe'

She smiles, looks in your eyes and says

'I love you, Y/n Y/l/n'

You smile at her. After you two have gathered your things, you walk out to see Steph and Caitlin, giving them both a hug, assuring them you're okay and thanking them for helping you. Steph kisses you on the head and warns Katie not to hurt you while you're hugging Cait. You walk out of the stadium hand in hand with Katie and head back to your house. As soon as you enter the house, Katie picks you up and runs into what she assumes is your bedroom and throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you as you both burst into a fit of giggles.

'Cmon pretty girl, let's get some rest' she smiles at you and then kisses you.

You both get changed out of your kits into more comfy clothes and climb into bed. While you lay on top of her like a koala, she has one arm wrapped around your thigh and the other across your back.

As you slowly drift off to sleep you hear her whisper;

'I love you, darling. Thank you for giving me a chance'

Before sleep consumes you, you mange a response.

'Love you Katie, always have, always will'

The woman below you smiles, as she hears your breathing even out before following your lead and falling asleep.

___________________________

an: not gonna lie, never written in my life before but oh well lol

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #arsenal #woso fanfics

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lipstickhotchocolate · 5 months

Text

Kind of want to combine my hyperfixations and redesign Stardew bachelorettes and bachelors in various eras of vintage fashion?

If I don’t end up drawing this, here’s my general vision so far just because (yes I am skipping the 30s and 40s because I don’t find them as visually interesting):

20s:

Penny. Her hair reminds me a lot of the pinned up faux bobs that flappers would wear and I think she would look AMAZING in a drop waist and cloche hat.

Krobus. His little trench coat get up gives me sort of 1920s Agatha Christie detective novel vibes.

50s:

Shane, because I think he would look dapper with a kind of Cary Grant and Marlon Brando hybrid inspired look? Like with sharp lines and but because he’s messy his sharp suit is ruffled after a long night.

Abigail. I know this isn’t the obvious choice, but due to my hatred™️ of Pierre and Caroline’s parenting style, Abigail’s story has always felt a bit like her breaking away from tradition, especially for gender wise. As such, I want to draw her in Beatnik style, with a black turtleneck, a beret, slacks, and huge dark glasses.

60s:

Harvey :). His fascination with planes means I absolutely have to draw him in the golden age of travel. I’m thinking a smart suit, kind of more early 1960s, inspired by the fashion in the original Bond films.

Haley. I would probably do a different part of 60s fashion to Harvey for her, more akin to the mid to late sixties Swinging London movement, as inspired by Twiggy and Mary Quant. Boxy mini dress, Gogo boots and a Bridget Bardot-esque bouffant.

70s:

Maru. The 70s were big for jumpsuits and women’s fashion got a lot more practical, which I think works well with her personality. I love Maru and I love flared jeans so 🫠 I also think I would give her big hair (I love her older game designs)

Leah. Leah’s hippie artist vibes work perfectly for the 70s flowery hippie fashion. Please put my girl in a loose fitting prairie dress or some bell sleeves. Her hair would also work with the long natural wavy look of that era.

80s:

Emily. I know her vibes are at a first glance 70s, but the style of her dress and her hair remind me SO MUCH of Winona Ryders wedding dress in beetlejuice? So the gothy fashion of the 80s with big spiky hair and mesh and craftiness remind me of Emily.

Elliot. Once again at a first glance 70s, but I will put this man in a late 70s/early 80s glam rock outfit if it kills me. With the massive hair and the sort of military inspired studded jacket and everything. Hear me out.

Alex: the 80s were probably the start of the jock character, and Alex to me reads like he could literally be a character in the breakfast club to be honest. He must be taken back to his roots.

90s:

Sam. In the 90s skater boy fashion was literally like… the thing, so this is obvious. Give him a baggy ahh flannel , a baggier ahh graphic tee and a baggiest ahh pair of jeans. And some fugly 90s man hair.

Sebastian. Not really a huge redesign, but I’m incapable of not drawing him as like a mall goth / early emo kid (yes I know they’re different but similar style roots).

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arkhammaid · 1 year

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ REUNION AND REINTEGRATION.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairing. jing yuan x fem!reader

content warnings. fluff & nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, heavily inspired by this fanart, general!jing yuan coming home from war, husband!jing yuan, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, jing yuan calls you petnames (rose, wife, etc.), not edited/proofread

word count. 1.6k

notes. the moment i saw this art, i went feral and knew i had to write smth... i didn't think it would take me so long, very sorry about that ;-; if the ending is a bit choppy, no it's not!! (i couldn't give it a proper ending without banging my head against the table, pls don't hate me for that aisudhfisdh)

It’s already past midnight, when you hear how someone enters the Estate, lightning up the long hallway. You rise from the sofa, book abandoned, while you pull the light blanket over your shoulders.

Your naked feet leave no sound as you walk towards the light, towards the man who finally came home. He greets you with a soft but tired smile, uniform still pristine and the massive coat protecting the white cloth from any dirt.

“General,” you greet him with a teasing smile, leaning on the doorway while you watch how he slips out of his black boots, made out of the finest leather— as a man of his rank deserves.

“Wife,” he greets you back, the grumbling voice making you pleasantly shudder. He smirks at your reaction, of course he does, eyes lightening up and brightening the whole face of this beautiful man. The man who is yours, General Jing Yuan, your husband returning to your waiting arms.

“Let me,” you ask, stepping near to take off his heavy coat, rimmed with black fur and decorating stitches on the back. Once you’ve taken it from his shoulders, his uniform is revealed to you, the very uniform you’ve clothed him in when he left you to go to war.

All his badges and cords are on their right place, setting an example of what a commander should look like, and yet he doesn’t utter a single word of complaint when you gesture him to follow you to your bedroom, where you would remove them piece by piece.

His uniform is his armor, shielding his mind and heart from death and misery, and once he’s finally home, he can shed said armor, revealing vulnerable skin and muscle. He only does this at home, the safest place he knows, because you’re here, waiting for him to return.

With keen eyes he follows how you move around in the bedroom, carry over the coffer which usually holds all of his military badges and start to take them off with the utmost care. You do your duty silently but gladly, your heart filled with happiness now that your husband is finally back home. And Jing Yuan watches you with a smile on his face, his tensing shoulders slowly slacking and lowering the longer you’re near him.

The soft smell of roses clings onto your hair, freshly washed and still a bit damp. Your skin seems to glow beneath the creams and serums you always put on, while the rest of your body is hidden behind your nightgown and the thin blanket that still clings onto your shoulders.

You just pinned the last badge in the cushion of the coffer, when suddenly Jing Yuan takes your face in his hands, still in the fiery red gloves, to draw you close. Your breath hitches and you have to climb on his lap, hold yourself on his strong arms to find your balance. He doesn’t care, nuzzling you and peppering you with featherlight kisses, murmuring how much he missed you.

“My sweet, beautiful rose,” he murmurs close to your right ear, immediately dipping his head to claim your neck with his lips, teeth gently scraping over your skin while you shudder in his arms.

“Do you know how much I love you?,” Jing Yuan asks you, only to press his lips onto yours, gentle and sweet, while pulling you closer. You try to protest, still mindful of what he wears— you didn’t want to have to wash his uniform simply because the two of you were not careful enough.

“Jing Yuan,” you whisper against his lips, eyes already lidded while you lean onto his touch. “Your uniform–,” you try, only for him to shush you with a forceful kiss. It makes your mind spin, to suddenly have him so close again, so close and so much of him, his scent and his body enclosing yours.

“As if my uniform is more important to you than your husband,” he teases you, fully knowing how you would flush at the needled teasing, eyes wide and oh so pleading. “Don’t mind me, dear, I shall help you to take my uniform off. Four hands are faster than two.”

And so you slid from his lap, lips red and hands trembling when you stand again, your husband following your action. A sly smirk is on his face when you start to remove the golden cords, start to unclasp his decorative belt, as well his sword belt. With a shaky exhale you also open his garter belt, his thigh muscles hard beneath your warm hands— oh how you wanted to ravish him, tumble into the marriage bed as you’ve done many times. You wanted to kiss and mark him, cling onto him while ruining his oh so perfect hair, all while he would pound into you and make you scream—

A chuckle rips you out of your thoughts and you immediately duck your head, but it has no use. Jing Yuan can only guess what filthy thoughts just crossed your mind and by that growing tent in his white pants, he approves. Your fingers skim over it, light and teasing, and the way he buckles his hips closer to you— a gasp leaves your mouth when he lifts you suddenly and almost throws you on the bed, patience running thin the way he shrugs off his pants, no longer caring for his uniform.

The upper part of the pristine white clothing follows, the metal, worked into the cloth, clanking on the floor the moment he drops it. He kneels on the bed, his thigh muscles clenching and it leaves you thirsty. The way he moves, almost prowles, dangerous and seductive, a predator on his hunt.

His undershirt follows, you’re pretty sure there is some ripping but you no longer focus on the clothes— no, now you only focus on him, muscles taunt, eyes glinting, his whole focus on you.

Almost subconsciously you crawl to your usual place, in the middle of the giant bed, amidst a massive amount of pillows. You start to shrug off your nightgown, the thin blanket long forgotten on the floor, while Jing Yuan frees himself of his last restrictions. He helps you in the end, truly ripping the sheer cloth of your nightgown, making you shudder beneath him.

“Hello, wife,” he greets you, once you're naked just as he is, his breath brushing over your stomach up towards your breasts, a breathless moan escaping your lips when his hands follow. You mumble a greeting back, feeling shy thanks to his intense stare, but he doesn’t mind.

Not when you’re here, beneath him, naked and ready to be ravished.

Oh, you are, readily spreading your legs, parting them to give way to him. You’re already wet for him, folds glistening as he brushes his fingers against your clit. Leaning back, you watch how Jing Yuan continues, slowly dipping the tip of his finger in your cunt, leaving you wanting. He knows what you want, try to urge him closer, but he only hums and leans his head on your thigh. With unblinking eyes he stares at you, the intense gaze making you blush.

“You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Beautiful and mine,” he murmurs and then presses a kiss on your skin, hands cupping the back of your knees. Peppering more kisses on your skin, closer and closer—

And when he finally licks a board stripe between your legs, you try to hold back the moan, only to fail when he gently sucks at your clit.

With your head thrown back and hands in his hair, Jing Yuan ravishes you, slurping you up while keeping your legs wide open. He has always been talented with his tongue, but today you’re especially sensitive, having been separated for far too long. It makes you cum faster than you wished, the orgasm knocking the air out of your lungs and your thighs shudder.

His kiss brings you back to your senses, his warm body shielding yours, hands wandering and circling across your skin. Long ago you’ve lost your embarrassment when he kisses you with that tangy taste on his lips, only moaning when he pries your own open with his tongue. A choked whine leaves your lips when two of his fingers finally slip into you, preparing you for his cock.

And when he finally does, hips draw to yours, filling you, making you choke on nothing, you cry out. Tears gather in your eyes, overwhelmed with Jing Yuan being finally in you again, overwhelmed with all the attention and loves he gives you— simply overwhelmed.

Clinging onto him, you gasp and moan, scream his name, while his hips work against yours, his strong thighs holding his body up and preventing you from being crushed. Being in his embrace fulfills you, makes your daydreams come true once again, and you let him know.

The moans, the gasps, the screams, it makes Jing Yuan shudder in your arms, greedy lips taking any skin you’re offering, fingertips leaving traces, everything to mark you as his. His wife, his love, his rose, you’re his.

And he’s yours, your husband and general, the man you love and how you love him.

You love him so much that you don’t complain when he simply sags against you, completely spent when he cums inside you, while your cunt tightens around his cock. You only grumble a bit, mind still hazy with another incredible orgasm he just gave you.

But he rolls off you, not minding the mess he made out of the sheets and you, wrapping his arms around your warm body and pulling you close. You snuggle against him, head on his chest, heart and mind relieved that he’s finally home again.

taglist. @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @stellumi , @auraxins , @lupicalbestwolf

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#honkai star rail #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x female reader #jing yuan smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #after dark <3

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