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a2a2a2-1 · 29 days

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Back in Town Part 2

Part 2 Megan: As I was running to the door, I half-tucked my towel around me knowing Dave would rip it off of me. I opened the door and was enthralled to see a cute teen girl standing in front of me. She had long dirty, almost strawberry blond hair. Her face looked familiar, but my eyes were distracted by her thin tank top. I could just make out the outline of the of her budding breasts. Clearly not wearing a bra underneath. I snapped by eye back up to her face and realized it was Ail!! OMG she was so grown up. I bent down for a hug, lifting her off the ground and pulled her into the house as I did. I could feel her face pressed against my breasts and smell her sweet berry scented shampoo. As I spun her around, I looked and saw her eyes were locked on my cleavage. I started to smile and started to relax my grip. Realizing she was still squeezing me tight enough to hold her in place, I gave her a big squeeze and bent down to return her to the floor. As she let go my towel started to drop. Without realizing it, I gave her a quick flash as I adjusted my towel back around me. I watched her eyes light up and giggle a bit. She then backed up and hid her face, this seemed more like an act, like she should not watch but couldn’t help it. I apologies and filed that away for later. I changed the topic and asked all about her. I took her hand and let her to the couch while she filled me in on her parents’ divorce and crazy mother. How she had tried to make things work with her dad it was bet for all, to come back while thing settled out. His parents were now living in their old house that had made things a little easier. While Ali was taking, I could not help but study her body. She had grown up so fast. She was maybe 4ft10 with thin athletic body. She was generally tan but had a few freckles that poked though in a few places especially her cheeks and arms. As she finished, I complimented her on how beautiful she looks and asked her to spin and let me geta a good look at her. I got a good look at her cute butt that was perfectly accentuated by her tight light gray shorts. Forgetting I was still in my towel for a moment, I adjusted my position and was quickly reminded. Ali was turning back around as she started to ask a question but then stopped as she and saw me adjusting my towel again. She cleverly recovered and shifted to the conversation to my wedding ring. Oh, right Dave… he would be home soon… humm. I gave her a quick recap and noted he would be home soon. She asked if that was the same Dave I was always talking about before she left. I had completely forgotten I had told her about him but yeah that timing would have fit. I pretended the towel for falling one last time to see if I would get the same reaction as I stood up and excused myself and suggested I should probably put on something a bit more appropriate. Ali just giggled and told her she could help herself to the fridge. I got back to my room and saw the sexy “outfit” I had laying on the bed. I say “outfit” as this did not really cover anything. I instead grabbed a tank to a pair of short running shorts. I know I should have put on something more, but I didn’t care really care at this point. I headed back to the Kitchen and Ali was bent overlooking with her face in the fridge. I know better but I couldn’t reset giving her a little spank on the that cute butt staring at me.

“Hey what was that for?” she squeals as she spun around. The look Ali gave me was that of intrigue. I simile and said, “Hey house rules” and gave her a wink. Ali bit her lip and I could tell she was trying to find her words. I followed up with “All cute butts get a spanking if they are on display.” She smirked a little then started to blush a little was asking “You think I have cute butt?” I took a step closer and slid my hand along the side of her head, moving her hair back behind her ear as I said “Sweetie, you are goanna have no issues with the guys. I wish I looked this good at your age.” Ali blushed even further then sheepishly asked “Can you teach me … like… about sex and stuff?” My mind went in a fog as the words left her libs. “How could I say no?” I picked her up and gave her a big hug. “I can teach you many things sweetie. But are you sure your ready to learn?” “Yes!” excitement returning to her voice. “You’re the only one in this town I can trust. I can’t really ask my grandparents, and I don’t what the others at school to think I’m weird for not knowing anything and not knowing what I want.” Ali replied. “Think I like boys but how do I know. I mean your amazing, and I think I might like one of the girls on the team but like how do I know? We went to the living room were sat down on the couch. Mind was racing to see how this was going to turn out. I know Dave had said he’d be down for a 3some but not sure how best to play this. “So how late can you stay tonight” I asked as the wheels in my head started turning. “Um not sure probable till dark?” Ali replied. I was starting to come up with a plan to just let Ali watch us from the closet or the connected Master bathroom. This plan fell apart when I heard Dave’s voice as he came in the back door. “Honey I’m home to fuck your brains out!!” I looked at Ali and smiled. “In here honey.” I called back. As he turned the corner, he already had his shirt off and was working on his belt when he stopped and froze. “Oh look who’s ready for some Action” I said as he dropped his hands. I looked over at Ali who was starting intently at Dave fit body. “Dave this is Ali. I was her nanny when she was younger before she moved away. She is back in town now can came over to say hello and reconnect.” I could see Dave was looking for is words, so I asked “Well, I can I get a kiss first?” He walked over as I stood up. I winked at Ali as I took his embrace and sliding my hand up his six pack then inviting him in for a long patient kiss. “Mm I have missed that. One more” I said as I turned us to the side so I could see Ali watching. I slid my hand down checking to see how hard he was and give his growing dick a squeeze through his jeans. He looked and me then looked at Ali. Sensing his confusion, I let go and turned back to Ali. “So, is this what you wanted to learn Ali? “Yes, that was amazing” Ali said “but I can go if you guys want me too.” “Well, that will be up to you Missy. I said sitting back down and placing my hand on her knee. “I know Dave and I are very excited to see each other, but we are ways happy to teach and eager student. I slid my thumb softly along her inner knee. “You can just watch if you like for you first lesson.” “Dave, do you think we can help Ali learn the finer points in life?” I asked looking back up at him while I reached out and grabbed his belt. He nodded as I started unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoned the top button. I slid my hand down and outlined his hard shaft that was imprinted on his jeans thought is Boxer-briefs . I then looked over at Ali. She was in aww and I could tell she did not want to move. I smiled and said “Last chance” slid my hand back up and slowly started unzipping his jeans. I pulled them down and placed my fingers under the waist band and looked to Ali “Are you ready?” I glanced at Ali for approval. She smiled and nodded.

I pulled his boxers down slowly watching Ali’s Reaction has Dave Shaft was finally released from it’s cage. It swung and almost hit me in the face. Ali gasped “It so big!” she said jumping a little at the site. “No need to be scared” I said sliding one hand down his legs to remove the boxers completed. I grasped his hard dick with my hand sliding is slowly down his shaft. I squeezed it as I pulled my hand towards me. I was pleased to see Dave had trimmed as well. Not fully shaven but trimmed close. Moved my other hand around his balls that were hanging low. I caressed them in my hand pulling ever so slightly to Dave's pleasure. “So is this the first time seeing a dick Ali?” I asked. She nodded and smiled a little. As she did. “Well, there are many ways to please a man. Now given that Dave and I have not seen each other in a long time he may be a little more sensitive than normal. As you get to know the guy you’re with, you will learn how to please him without sending him over the edge too soon.” I started jerking a little fast as I continued. “When just giving a hand job, never neglect his balls. This is where the cum is created and stored. They can be very panful if you hit them too hard. So you have to be delicate.” I took his balls in my hand, stroking his hanging sack then squeezing a little while pulling down on his sack a little with my free hand. “This said, a little tug every now and again can make some guys to go crazy.” As I stroked his shaft and teases his sack further, I could see a bit of precum start to develop. “You know you’re doing everything right when you can start so see some precum leaking from the tip. “I could make him cum with just my hands, and this would be called a handjob. But most guys would prefer a blowjob where you use your mouth too.” With this I lifted his shaft and gave the underside of his Shaft Several kisses while working up to his head. Focusing on the bottom of the tip as it meets that shaft I noted. “This part is often overlooked but very sensitive for some guys.” Letting it fall back to the natural position I kissed and teased his tip and sucked the precum clean. I then took his full head in my mouth and worked his cock getting deeper and deeper with each thrust. Once I was relaxed enough to suppress my gag reflex, I was able to take his long 8 in cock all the way down my throat. I gave him a few pumps then came back up for air. “That, is a very advanced trick, call a deep throat, and takes a bit a practice.” I told Ali while stoking his cock with my hand. I noticed she was starting to adjust her position, clearly getting a little excited. I looked up at Dave and could tell he we in Heave as well. I then took that opportunity to stretch a stretch a little. I took Dave’s dick with just my mouth, and slide by hand up to his abs, then chest. Dave got the hint and Asked, “Why am I the only one naked?” as he reach down and pulled off my top. I then stood up and pulled off my shorts. “Now that’s much better” he said as he shoved me back on the couch. Got down into position and spread my legs. Dave turned to Ali and said “Megan's not the only one that can tease.”

We will pick up the story from Dave’s Side in part 3 …

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metalotaku-da · 8 months

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So many cross overs so narrow of common hero choices. Let's expand a little.

"Rip what the hell is that?"

"It appears sir, to be a small human child. Around the developmental stage of 4-5"

"Even you know better than to cuss infront of kids.

"I was gone for five minutes."

"Actually I snapped you back to a minute after you left."

"Are You misser booser gol?"

"Yeah kid that's me. You a fan or something who got into something you shouldn't to find me?"

"No. Clockie said tis for you." Hands a sticky note to booster.

Note reads: this is Danny. You will care for him from now on. See this as payment for resetting your time line safely. If you even try pass him off to Bruce wayne/batman, I will ensure your entire familial line never touched time traversing. And you stayed forever trapped in the 31st century. -clockwork master ancient of all time. P.s. there is not conning your way out of this. I will hunt down every ancestor or decendant for all time.

"This looks very serious sir. Congratulations sir you are a father Now"

"Wow kid. Clockie must hate you. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not that bad of an option. Obviously I was judged better that batsy."

"Clockie ass hero I want to say wiff."

"OH kiddo and you asked for the greatest hero boostergold?"

"I wike space. He say geen lanern is space. He take care of me."

"I'm so sorry sir, you have already disappointed your new child. Should I take a commemorative photo of this milestone moment for you?"

"No" "yes skeets"

Camera flashes.

"I shall add this photo to a new album labeled baby book. It is labeled Danny's first disappointment, sir."

"Thank you skeets." X2 one sarcastic one pleased.

"I wan geen lanern."

"Think you're gonna need help anyway Micheal. Call one of them. Not guy."

"I would never co-parent with guy. What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Rip takes you as the utmost idiot sir. As does most of the justice league sir."

"Thanks skeets."

"You are most welcome sir."

"Can I pay wif the talking space ship?"

"Sure kid." Pushes skeets into the kids hands.

"I do not believe I am rated for physical interaction by children under 10 sir."

"To bad skeets." Picks up Danny who looks up at him instead of at skeets to smile all teeth. "Holy shit are those fangs? We are going to go see my friend Ted now. He will know what to do."

"He will atleast know not to cuss infront of kids. Don't know about the rest."

"Is ted geen lanern?"

Cue shenanigans. They were roommates, but adopted a child.

"Does Batman know you stole a child from him?" <- Jaime when he visits.

"Do not even joke like that. My existence is at stake."

"Batsy is the new beetle juice. In this house."

"Are You geen lanern?"

"Sorry kid I am blue beetle."

"Should I take a picture for Danny's third disappointment since becoming your child sir?"

"No skeets."

"3rd? How long you had him?"

"A week"

"Ouch. Hey kiddo why do you want to meet green lantern? Aren't these guys just as cool?"

"Considering the average human body temperature is 98.6 degrees I do not believe they qualify as cool sir." Jaime is picking up danny to hold on his hip.

"Clockie says geen lanern is space." Danny smiles.

"Are those fangs? Is this a meta kid? You like space? My scarab is from space. Isn't that just as... Oh My, no scarab!" Scarab starts to go into protect host mode while screaming danger desteoy threat in Jaime head just as Danny's eyes start to glow green at the statement and his mouth splits inhumanly wide with even more teeth. Ted and Michael scramble to grab Danny and move him away from Jaime till he gets control of the scarab again. But Danny has a death grip and won't let go of his new friend.

"I do believe sir that your new child qualifies as a meta. Should I take a picture to commemorate your child's first power demonstration sir?"

#dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #blue beetle #booster gold #ted kord #dc universe #danny phantom

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pedritomosquito · 1 year

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All Choked Up (Ch 2)

MINORS DNI

Summary: After your post-rehearsal hook-up, how will shoot day with Pedro go?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected P in V, Daddy kink, enthusiastic consent, Pedro is a consent king, soft dom, praise, degradation

Chapter 1 Here

“Action!”

You dart forward, knife raised as Pedro advances toward you. His large hands grip your forearms and you try to tear your way out of his grasp. He twists your wrist just enough for the knife to fall from your hand. His fist flies toward your face and you throw your head to the side to sell the punch. You allow him to easily push you the two steps back until you feel your back hit the wall.

He’s stepped right up into your space, your bodies nearly pressed together, both of his hands around your throat. You can feel him panting on your cheek, eyes locked on yours. You put all your efforts into struggling against him. You claw at his hands with the pads of your fingers so you don’t scratch him and writhe in his grasp. The feral glint in his eyes is only growing the more you fight and you know it’s Joel, not Pedro, but your mind is absolutely running away with the primal display.

Once you lose consciousness, Pedro lets go and you drop as heavily as you can to the floor. He walks out the door which leads to dead space between set walls, out of view.

“Cut!”

You open your eyes and Pedro reappears above you with his usual soft expression. He helps you back to your feet and can’t seem to stop himself from reaching out and fixing one of your rogue hairs this time.

“Thank you,” You smile and he shoots back a wry one of his own.

“Okay,” Craig says, a bit slowly, like he’s interrupting something, “That was… great, but I need you to act like you hate each other this time.”

Oops. Guess you were having a bit too much fun.

“Let’s reset,” He directs, then looks at you and Pedro and reminds you both, “You want to kill each other.”

You and Pedro are both nodding. Pedro looks a little embarrassed, which you find some glory in.

Jess starts straightening you back out for the next take. She has a shadow of a smirk on her face.

“What?” You question her.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jess maintains her innocence.

“Jess.”

“Y’all just look like you’re having fun out there, that’s all,” She shrugs with a knowing tone.

“Alright, let’s go again!” Craig called.

You shoot another take and after calling cut, Craig waves you and Pedro over to the monitor.

“Come see what we’re seeing,” he says.

They play back the take as you and Pedro watch. The sequence does seem a bit… heated, in more ways than one.

“Pedro, I need you further back from the wall for the choking—and your faces are too close. It’s not creating the right kind of tension,” Craig instructed.

Exactly what kind of tension it is creating goes unmentioned.

“And I need more fear from you,” Craig tells you. “Your character is fierce and brave, but towards the end you’re realizing you’re about to die. I need that terror. Sound good?”

You and Pedro are both nodding like bobble heads, desperate to try again and undo the impression you’ve given everyone. You’re both people pleasers, for better or worse.

The next take finally reads like a murder instead of a porno, but it’s turning you on without fail. You have to do two more takes after that before Craig deems them ready to move on to the next angle.

“Just a minute to set up the next camera angle, please,” Craig says.

You’ve soaked your underwear to the point of discomfort. In a fit of equal parts pettiness and arousal, a downright evil idea springs to life in your mind.

You walk the few steps over to Pedro, casually pulling him through the set’s fake doorway. The space it leads to is hardly bigger than a closet but it’s out of sight of the crew. He looks at you curiously and is about to say something when you stop him, crowding him against the wall.

“You,” You say, hand slipping under your waistband to dip two fingers into yourself, “Made a mess.”

You withdraw your hand and bring it up to his lips.

“Clean it up,” you whisper.

His mouth parts silently and you slide your fingers in. His tongue drags along them, sucking them clean.

As quickly as you’d pulled him aside, you exit back onto the main set, leaving him behind without another word. You make your way over to Jess who starts fixing your hair.

It’s a long moment before you see Pedro emerging from the doorway from the corner of your eye.

“You good, Pedro?” Craig asks with a touch of concern.

Everyone within earshot turns to look at him, including you. His face is a little flushed and his eyes look wild. He schools his expression, even though the blush is continuing to spread down his neck.

“Yep!” He says with an easy grin.

You walk past him to your starting mark, twirling the knife in your hand.

“Someone needs to work on their acting,” You tease quietly with a smug smile, “Can see it all over your face, querido.”

--------

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today,” Craig called, “We have cupcakes here for Tina’s birthday, don’t forget to grab one on your way out!”

Cupcakes? Hell yeah, thank you Tina!

After you change back into your clothes, you find a small group crowded around a table with the birthday treats. You shuffle through and pick up a vanilla cupcake. You see Pedro across the small room and you catch his eye.

You decide you’re not done playing games with him today.

You take your finger and swipe it through the soft, white frosting. You stare at him as you lick at the sweet icing before sliding your entire finger into your mouth.

The intense look in Pedro’s eyes sparks a fire of anticipation as he swiftly makes his way over to you. He stands a little close, seeming to tower over you. You look up at him innocently.

“Need a ride home?” You ask.

“Yes, I do,” he answers through gritted teeth.

You sit in silence as you drive down the dark road. You sneak glances at him, catching his profile in sliding strips of streetlights. You can feel his eyes on you too. He shifts in his seat and you can tell he’s trying to subtly adjust his pants.

You pull into his driveway and throw your car into park.

You look over at him and he simply leans over the center console, pulling your keys out of the ignition.

“Come inside.”

Your breathing is shallow. You just nod and climb out of your car, following him up the front steps.

As soon as the door is closed behind you, he has your back pressed up against it, one hand on your throat, another on your waist, and a knee pressed between your legs.

“Do you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into?” He asks, lips nearly against your cheek, “Do you know what’s going to happen now that you made me want you so fucking bad?”

You shake your head minutely, holding your breath.

“I’m going to make you fall apart with my mouth,” He explains slowly, “And then on my fingers. And then I’m going to fuck you good and deep.”

He’s nodding as he speaks and you mirror him mindlessly, clutching onto his shirt.

“How does that sound, querida?” He asks. You nod more emphatically but he interrupts and says, “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“S-sounds good,” you manage to whisper.

He lets out a soft laugh and a genuine grin tugs on his lips. His touch lightens. “You really are just a sweet little thing, aren’t you?

“All bark and no bite,” You confess quietly with a sheepish grin.

“You like it when I’m rough with you?” He asks sincerely.

“God yes,” you answer instantly.

He chuckles again, the darkness flowing back into his eyes. His hand from your waist travels down and palms over the crotch of your pants.

“The safe word is cupcake, okay?” He whispers in your ear, a precious secret just for you and him.

“Okay,” you nod, your eyes falling shut.

“Try it,” he directs you softly.

“C-Cupcake,” you repeat it hesitantly.

The weight of his body against yours disappears and his hands withdraw. You open your eyes to see him standing in front of you.

“Good girl,” he praises softly. He then snatches up your wrist and tugs you into him. “Fuck I can’t wait to see you cum again,” he says before his lips lock onto yours.

He’s soon dragging you down a hallway and into his bedroom. You pull off your pants and he does the same. He starts undoing his shirt but you take over, making him sit on the edge of the bed. You straddle him as you undo the buttons.

“Missed being in your lap,” you sigh, hands working down his shirt. He hums in agreement as you push the fabric off his shoulders and his mouth finds yours. His hands find the hem of your top. He pushes it up your stomach. You take hold of it and break the kiss to pull it off. You reach back and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms.

He drags a hand down your chest, too tempted by the expanse of soft skin not to touch it. You roll forward and both of you let out contented noises at the sweet friction. He wraps an arm around your back to pull your bare chest flush against his, feeling his heartbeat against your own.

You rake your fingers through his hair and he grabs your ass, pressing you down tight onto him. You’ve soaked through the thong you’re wearing and you’re already leaving a wet spot on Pedro’s briefs.

He stands up with you still wrapped around him, turns around, and tosses you down onto the bed.

He crawls up beside you, licking over one of your nipples on his way to your lips. His hand travels down between your legs.

“God, are you always this wet?” He asks reverently, rubbing slow circles over underwear.

“Siempre estoy mojada pensando en ti,” You reply. I’m always wet thinking about you.

He groans deep in his throat and you feel him push his hard-on against the side of your hip. “Didn’t know you could speak Spanish, querida,” He says breathlessly.

“Sip,” You nod, squirming under his touch. Yep.

“You’re just full of goddamn surprises, aren’t you?” He teases, rolling his fingers tortuously slow.

“Pedro–please,” You say, trying to circle your hips.

“What?” He asks innocently, “You want me to slip my fingers underneath these and touch your wet pussy, play with it til you cum?”

The vulgar words coming from his sweet mouth sends a rush of heat over you.

“Mhm,” You nod fiercely.

He pulls his hand away instead and a wounded noise leaves your mouth.

“I don’t think I will,” he says defiantly, “I think I need to taste you again.”

“Oh my god, yes,” You murmur. He moves down your body, placing himself between your legs. You watch as his teeth scrape over the skin of your left hip and capture the waistband of your underwear. He hooks a finger under the other side and drags the fabric down. You help him slide it all the way down and off.

A broad hand settles on each of your thighs and he pushes your legs apart. You can feel his breath rolling over your wet cunt before his tongue glides over you, bottom to top, gathering up the taste of you. You gasp and sound rumbles deep in Pedro’s chest, vibrating against you.

He covers all of you with his mouth, overwhelming you with heat. He runs the underside of his tongue over you and he feels so soft, like a ribbon of silk.

His tongue strokes and circles your clit.

Your hands weave into his hair.

“Fuck, yeah,” you breathe.

He begins sucking gently, alternating with flicks of his tongue. The more he works you over, the faster your breathing becomes.

He moves his tongue down, pressing it into your entrance. You grind into his face, your clit pressing to his nose.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re getting me so close,” you pant.

He can feel the way you’re clenching around nothing, trying to grip his tongue.

He pulls away and you whimper.

“All fours. Elbows and knees.”

You comply instantly, rolling onto your stomach and dragging your knees up underneath you. You expect to feel his mouth or cock press against you, but instead you feel the mattress shift. Pedro lays on his back, his head underneath your hips between your legs.

“Oh fuck,” You breathe, taking in his position.

He yanks your hips back and pulls your cunt down to his mouth. He starts by flicking his tongue over your clit, making you jump. His hands grip tighter, keeping you pressed to him. One of his thick fingers begins to circle your hole before dipping inside.

You push back against him, gliding your clit over his tongue and taking his finger deep inside you.

“Oh fuck yes,” You moan. You’ve never done this before, not in this position, and it’s simply divine. You rock back again and are met with a second finger slipping inside you. “Fuck!” You tilt your hips to hit Pedro’s tongue just right.

Pedro turns his head to the side, kissing your thigh.

“That’s it, querida, use my mouth,” he says, “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

“Holy shit Pedro,” You breathe as he returns his mouth to your clit, “feels s-so good.”

He just groans in agreement. He sucks your clit until you can’t keep still, pushing back into his fingers. He opens his mouth, allowing you to grind on his tongue. Your thrusts devolve from polite to needy.

His fingers begin to press down harder, rubbing over a sensitive spot inside you.

“Fuck, just like that!” You tell him. You start to lose control over the rhythm of your hips. He stays steadfast in his movements, making the pressure inside you grow and twist.

“Oh fuck, Pedro! Faster! You’re gonna make me cum!”

He hums against your clit, sending a vibrating jolt into the depths of your stomach. His fingers start hooking faster.

You feel a new kind of pressure rushing into the base of your hips and realize what is about to happen.

You wonder if you should tell him to stop, if you might die of embarrassment, but it doesn’t matter either way because your orgasm is bursting from you before you can act.

“FUCK—” You cry with a choked off sound, squirting on Pedro’s face.

You’d only ever accomplished this on your own twice and never at all with a partner. Dear god, you’re praying that he’s into this. Your hips jerk away from his mouth at the oversensitivity but he keeps up with his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he praises, “Soak my face.”

His words alone earn him another gasped “fuck” and more wetness on his cheeks. You look underneath yourself and find him with his mouth open, trying to drink in as much as he can get. You drop your head and cry out into the bedding.

When you come back to your senses and unbury your face from the sheets, your thighs are trembling and Pedro is firmly kneading them in his grip with grounding strokes.

You lift up your knee to un-straddle him and clamor down the bed to be beside him. You take his face in your hands and get a good look at how his skin shines with your cum. Before he can speak, you bring your tongue to his jaw, licking away the wetness.

“That’s it,” He says lowly, “My perfect little slut, cleaning up her mess.”

Your eyes become hooded at the new name as you continue to lap at his face. Pedro doesn’t miss it.

“Aw, you like being called a slut, don’t you?” He smirks, “My sweet girl isn’t so innocent after all, huh?”

You groan and start pawing at the waistband of his briefs. He takes your hand in his and guides you to palm over his cock.

“That what you want, querida?” He teases.

You nuzzle your nose into his cheek and nod with a whimper.

“Say it,” He demands.

“I—I want your cock,” You reply.

“And where do you want it?”

“Want it inside me,” You reply, groping him through his underwear, “Want you to cum while you fuck me.”

He sits up and slides off his boxers. He leans over and grabs a condom from the night table, tearing it open. He places it on the tip of his cock.

“You’re going to put this on me with your mouth, okay?” He directs with a condescending tone that makes your brain whir.

You nod, moving so you can place your mouth on him. You wrap a hand around the base of him and start working your lips down his shaft, unrolling the latex. Pedro’s hand winds itself into your hair as he groans.

“Next time, you’re going to fuck me with that beautiful mouth of yours,” he decides in a strained voice, “But right now I have to have your pussy wrapped around me.”

“Mhm,” You agree with your lips wrapped around his dick. With the help of your fingers, you unravel the condom all the way down his thick cock. Pedro gives a tug on your hair, pulling you off of him and guiding you up the bed. He climbs on top of you and lays his body over yours. His left hand strokes over your throat as he speaks in your ear.

“You had fun today, didn’t you? Teasing me at work,” he chides, mouthing at your neck, “You wanted me to know that you’re a dirty little slut, huh? So I’d know to treat you like one?”

You nod with a little whimper escaping.

He rolls his hips and his hard length slides over your clit and back, notching at your hole. You try to push against him but he pins your hips with his own.

“You know what I think you want more than anything?” He teases, “I think you want my hand around your throat while I fuck you.”

“God, Please, Pedro,” You nod, your hips attempting to buck up into his again.

The fingers stroking over your throat stop and his hand spreads across the fragile skin.

His hardened facade falls away for a moment.“Tap twice if you want me to lighten up, three times for cupcake, okay?” He whispers.

“Okay,” you whisper back. “I’ve—I’ve never done this before,” You admit, placing your hand over his.

“I’ll be gentle,” He assures you softly, “And we can stop whenever you want. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes.”

“Two taps for looser, three taps for stop,” he reminds you. “Show me.”

You tap twice on his wrist and he nods in approval, then you tap three times.

“Good girl,” he tells you quietly and your muscles tense up with a shiver. He captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips over yours. One of your hands moves to his hip and the other trails into his hair.

The head of his cock keeps grinding over your clit as he moves. You try to pull on his hip to get more friction but he stops.

“So needy,” he says, “be patient.”

You whine in protest, squirming under him.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” Pedro asks, pressing a little on your throat.

“Ohmygod, I need you inside me,” You reply, “Please!”

“Okay querida, I’ll give you what you need,” he allows. He reaches down and guides the tip into your hole. He pushes forward slowly, giving you the first couple of inches.

The way Pedro gasps and moans into your ear makes you dizzy. He’s barely even a third of the way in and you already feel stretched. You grip onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin like teeth. He pushes in farther and you try to keep still and take it.

“Relax,” Pedro says quietly, the hand on your throat sliding off and resting on your collarbone, “Breathe.”

You open your eyes and exhale.

“That’s it,” he says, waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m going to give you more, okay?”

You nod and he places kisses over your cheeks as he pushes forward. Your hands regrip, pawing at his shoulders absently, looking for something to ground you. He’s a lightning rod in your storm of adrenaline.

“I’ve got you,” he says, “You can take it, querida. Doing so good for me.”

His praise loosens the aching stretch inside you. He eases in the rest of the way until you can feel the base of his stomach pressed to your clit.

“Good girl,” His head drops to your shoulder as he groans.

“S-So full, fuck,” you gasp.

“You like being full of me, sweetheart?” His voice strains.

You nod, reaching down to grab his ass cheek, keeping him close to you as you grind up against him.

His breath hitches and you catch what nearly sounds like a whine. He pulls back and pushes into you experimentally, fed by your delicate sounds and breathing.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” he sighs heavily as he thrusts again, “Taking me so well.”

“Wanna be good for you,” You replies desperately.

“Oh yeah?” He asks menacingly.

You feel his hand slipping back up to your throat.

You nod.

“After being such a bad little slut all day,” He says, “Now you wanna be good for me?”

“Yes,” you squeak as he picks up a slow rhythm to his thrusts.

“Okay sweet girl,” He replies, leaning down to feed you scorching, messy kisses as he fucks you. You wrap your legs around him, forcing his hips closer to yours. You move a hand to the one he has on your throat and grip onto his wrist, pushing it.

He breaks his mouth from yours, easily clued in on what you want.

“If I knew all I had to do to get you under me was put my hands on this pretty little neck, I woulda done it ages ago,” He says, “You look so pretty with your bullseye necklace.”

You imagine his view, the bullseye tattoo between his thumb and first finger framed perfectly in the center of your throat. The thought makes you moan. Your grip on his wrist becomes more insistent.

“Okay,” he acquiesces to your silent plea. “Gonna start real gentle, okay?” He says softly, looking at you for permission.

You marvel at the way he drops in and out of his dominant character, rough all over yet smooth around the edges. Knowing that you get both sides of him—all of him—is intoxicating.

You give a small nod and he slows the rhythm of his thrusts, focusing in on his grip.

It’s not exactly the sensation you expected when he begins to squeeze his hand. He’s pressing in on both sides of your throat and pulses the amount of pressure he applies. It amplifies the feeling of his cock sliding inside you and you catch just the echoes of a misty, heady feeling. You want more.

He lets go and you moan at the loss.

“That feel good?” He asks. It’s dirty talk as much as it is an honest question.

“Yes,” You reply instantly, feeling the desperation setting in, “Yes.” Your hand returns to his wrist, already pleading for more.

“Easy, querida,” He hushes, “I’m taking my time with you.” He gives you a particularly slow, deep thrust.

“Oh god, love when you give it to me deep,” You admit breathlessly.

His hand leaves your throat and hooks your thigh, pulling your knee up higher to give him more access.

“You take it so well, sweetheart,” He praises, rewarding you with more.

He reaches new depths in this position, fucking you in places you swear were previously untouched. You cry out and your hands scrabble for purchase in his hair to his back to his shoulders.

“Fuck, please, please!” You beg.

“Tell me what you want,” he says.

You just whine in response, grabbing at his wrist.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“Choke me!” You finally manage to blurt out, “Please, I want you to choke me!”

“There you go,” He smirks.

“H-Harder, please,” you quietly add.

“So good, telling me what you need,” he replies, somewhere between sweet and wicked, “I’ve got you.”

His hand travels to your throat and he skims his fingertips over your skin before finding his grip, starting to press. As promised, it’s tighter than before.

It’s perfect.

The mist begins to blur everything but the feeling of Pedro fucking you, the sensation crystal clear and torrid. You would scream if you could. Instead, the pleasure stays locked inside you, building and swirling.

You distantly hear Pedro moan and it makes your cunt flush with a new wave of wetness.

He lets go of you and air rushes into your lungs.

“Yes, Pedro!” You exhale.

“Can tell you love it,” He replies with a strained voice, “Getting me all wet while your pussy grips me so fucking tight.”

Your inhibitions fall away with the way he reads your body like a book. There’s no hiding from him.

“Fuck me,” You plead.

He’s happy to obey, picking up speed. It’s hard and fast, slamming your hips with a tightening, growing heat. You know that you’re whimpering out little yes’s and fuck’s but it’s dulled against the lightness in your head.

“Already close again, querida?” That smirk returning to his lips, “You going to come on my cock?”

You let out a choked sob and can only nod in reply.

“Give it to me,” he says, fucking you impossibly harder.

The heat filling you to the brim climbs higher than you can stand.

“Da-Pedro!

Pedro immediately slows to a near stop and his eyes bore into yours. Your hand flies to your mouth.

“Oh,” He says dangerously low, amusement pulling at his lips and dancing in his eyes, “Now what do we have here?”

“Sorry,” You barely whisper. Humiliation rushes to your cheeks. He rolls his hips hard and presses even deeper into you, making a messy whimper tumble from you.

“No, you’re not sorry,” he replies steadily, withdrawing back, “Go ahead. Say it.”

His grip on your throat tightens as he buries his cock inside you.

“Daddy!”

“That’s my girl,” He nearly laughs, beginning to fuck you in a steady rhythm again, “Shoulda known. Such a good little slut, course you wanted Daddy to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You nod frantically.

“Deep breath, querida.”

You inhale and feel his hand squeeze tighter. Blood rushes in your ears and you watch him watch you. Four thrusts more and he releases you, leaving you gasping.

“There you go,” he says, “You love that, don’t you?”

“Yes Daddy,” You reply reflexively.

His hips stutter as he groans.

“Jesus Christ,” He breathes.

He suddenly hooks his arms under yours, pulling you up to sit chest to chest. He wraps one arm around your back to keep you up and his free hand is at your throat again.

“Oh fuck!” You helplessly cry as he fucks up into you, “Daddy!”

He tightens his grip on your throat and everything but Pedro leaves your head. There’s nothing but him, inside you, all around you.

“Make a mess in my lap, baby,” He demands, nosing against your jaw, “Come for me.”

He releases his grip and everything floods through you, burning hot and bursting. You come with your mouth falling open, unable to say a word.

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” he encourages as he fucks you through it, “Give it to me.”

Your soundless scream finally turns into a flurry of gasping sobs as you tremble in his lap, cumming hard.

“Good girl. Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

You’re drawn into the mist that hums quietly in your head. You feel Pedro’s hips slow underneath you and hear him swearing as he unloads into the condom inside you.

Every inch of your body is ringing with dizziness and sunlight and Pedro. You float in the blissful glow.

You’re drifting back down like a leaf falling from a gentle breeze when you realize there are soft sheets and a pillow underneath you. Your face is tucked into Pedro’s neck as he holds you, his quiet voice in your ear.

“You did so good, sweetheart. I’m right here, I got you. Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

You pick your head up a bit to look at him.

“There you are,” he says with a small smile, a hand brushing over your cheek, “Are you okay?”

“Um, yes,” you reply with an incredulous look. Duh. Thought I made that pretty clear when my soul left my goddamn body.

“Alright,” he laughed gently, “No need for the sass. I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

You nod and reluctantly let him go.

He was wearing a condom so you wonder how much mess there could possibly be, but when you pull back the sheets, you realize that your own cum has coated your thighs. Jesus.

Pedro returns with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your skin clean. You watch his careful ministrations for a moment, hesitating to ask him the question on your mind.

“Was that…” You try to piece together the words, “For you, I mean—was that…”

“Mind blowing?” He offers.

“I was going to say extraordinary,” You giggle.

“Earth shattering.”

“Astonishing.”

“Divided life into two eras—before that fuck, and after.”

That assessment finally breaks you with a laugh.

“Yes, it was incredible, querida,” he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before retreating to the bathroom to get rid of the washcloth.

You sit up a little as you watch him go, knowing that you have a dumb smile on your face. You glance over at your clothes on the floor.

Shit, are you supposed to leave now? This is technically a hook up, so maybe you’re expected to get dressed and go, or slip out in the morning undetected.

What happened these past couple of days didn’t feel like a hookup. That wasn’t Pedro’s intention here, right? He was so intimate and sweet and sincere and…

God, what if you’re being ridiculously naive? What if he does this with every extra he can get his hands on? What if Jess puts concealer on his scene partner’s hickeys every week?

“Hey.”

Pedro’s gentle voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s approaching the bed, his gaze following yours to the outfit laying on the hardwood.

He sits down on the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go,” he admits quietly, “And I don’t want you to disappear on me in the morning.”

You just blink at him. How does he know you like this? You think back through your memories with him and try to put your finger on when he had managed to learn you like this.

“You can, if you wa—“ He quickly begins to correct himself.

You interrupt the doubt wavering on his tongue with your lips, kissing him short and fierce.

“You really think I’d want to disappear on you after life-dividing sex?” You smirk.

He smiles, kissing you till you lay back down, and follows after you. He settles alongside you, pushing aside the comforter and opting to pull the blanket from the bottom of the bed over you both. You wonder why until you realize the comforter is soaked with wet spots.

“I’m sorry about the, um… the mess,” You say, a bit of embarrassment painting your cheeks, “that’s never happened before.”

Pedro groans a little.

“Querida, you’re going to get me hard again,” he complains out the feeble warning with a little laugh. “I’m really the first person to make you do that?”

“Yes,” you reply as he wraps his arms around you. You place an arm and a leg over him, resting your head on his chest.

“I don’t think you understand how fucking hot it was,” he says, “I couldn’t care less about clean up. Now I know to put a towel down next time.”

Next time.

Your stomach does silly little butterfly flips.

“You were really good at… um… you know…”

You can feel Pedro beginning to laugh again.

“You are so sweet,” he says, “a minute ago you were begging for me to choke you, now you can’t even say it?”

“Okay, that was kinky me!” You explain, “She’s a whole different person. I don’t know her!”

“Oh I see,” He says in mock realization.

“But really, you were really good at it,” You continue, “You must have done that before.”

“Nope.”

“No way,” You reply incredulously, craning your neck to look up at him, “How did you know how to do it like that?!”

“I did some googling when I got home last night,” He says simply.

“You googled how to choke me?” You hold in your giggle.

“And phoned a friend,” he adds.

Now that piques your interest. You pick your head up to look at him fully.

“You phoned a friend?”

“It’s Hollywood, everyone is kinky!” He defends with a wry smile. “It was just a good friend of mine.”

Your mouth drops open as a name pops into your head.

“Oh my god, it was Oscar Isaac, wasn’t it?” You gasp quietly.

Pedro bites his cheek and fights a smile.

“You called Oscar Isaac and asked him how to choke me?!” You prodded.

Pedro can’t help a proud smirk and gives a nod.

“I mean, the bar is exceptionally low, but that’s one of the nicest things a man has ever done for me!”

“I think doing a little research to make sure you don’t hurt your partner is pretty bare minimum,” he scoffs.

“The bar,” you remind him, demonstrating with a flat hand in front of you, “Exceptionally low.”

“I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself,” he says as you place your head back down.

“Enjoyed is a bit of an understatement,” you reply quietly.

You nuzzle in as he adjusts the blanket back over your shoulder.

You reach your hand up blindly and find the side of his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He turns his head, pressing his cheek into your palm.

“You’re welcome, querida.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #fanfiction #the last of us #Joel miller

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bwabys-scenarios · 7 months

Text

A witch and her werewolf 3

Werewolf!Kurapika x Chubby!Fem!Witch!Reader

!!REPOSTS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: nsfw, breeding, knotting, overstimulation, creampies, oral(f!receiving), rough sex

A/N: I may turn this into a longer, more story driven story later, but for now this is the last part! If I do make it longer I’ll reset it. If y’all would like that, please comment!

pt2

Kurapika stared into your eyes, smiling. “I’m going to make you mine tonight? Okay? All mine, forever and ever.”

You nod, face hot from his kisses. “Okay, puppy. All yours.”

His ears twitch, purring as he inhaled your scent. You can feel his bulge press against your leg, and you know just how badly he wants you.

He moves down your body, stopping when his face is between your legs. He buries his nose into your crotch, inhaling. “K-Kurapika!!” you gasp, instinctively trying to push his head away. He lets out a low growl, grabbing your shorts and pulling them and your panties off with one motion.

You gasp when he buries his head in between your legs, lapping at your folds and shoving a finger into your cunt. “Mmm…” he hums against your clit.

You bury your hands in his hair, trying to ground yourself as he easily makes you cum with his gentle sucking on your clit.

He moves his fingers away from your core, instead fucking you with his tongue, purring. Your Kurapika was looking up at you with those pretty red eyes of his as his tongue fucked into you, whining into your cunt.

“P-Pika! Gonna-“

You cried out as you came again, the blonde cooing happily as he lapped up your juices. He pulled away, placing a sloppy kiss on your pussy. “You’re gorgeous, (Name).”

He gently nips at your thighs, sucking on the soft flesh to leave his mark. “I’ve wanted to mark these for so long. Every time I slept on your thighs I couldn’t get the thought of being in between them out of my head.”

Had he really been thinking about you like that for so long? You whimper when his bites get rougher, leaving marks on your thighs. “P-Pika, be gentle.”

Kurapika nuzzles against your leg, placing a kiss over one of his bites. “Im sorry, (Name). My rut… it makes me so… possessive. I just want everyone to know you’re my mate, and mine alone.”

He climbs on top of you, cock rubbing against your tummy as he pulls you in for another kiss. You can taste yourself in his tongue as he purrs into your mouth.

“Want to… want to breed you so bad…”

You squeak, putting your hands on his chest. “B-breed me? You want t-“

He silences you with a kiss, pulling away to smile down at you as his tail wags. “Yes, you’ll be the perfect mother to our pups. Kind, affectionate, and…”

Kurapika blushes, nuzzling into your neck. “So pretty…”

You can his cock rubbing against your slit, squeaking when he bites down on your neck. “Eek!”

He gently laps away the blood that beads at the surface of your skin, ears flattening. “Sorry, angel.”

He continued lapping gently at the bite, before he continued nipping, leaving love bites that firm a collar around your neck. “Mine, all mine okay? Anyone that sees this will know…”

“K-Kurapika!”

His hazy red eyes meet yours, the wolf panting from the effort of holding himself back. “Please… I want you…”

You’re a squirming mess beneath him, and he can’t help but purr at the sight. “Shh, it’s okay, angel. Gonna…”

He pants lightly, his cock prodding against your cunt. “Gonna breed you…”

He pushes in slowly, gasping into your neck. “F-fuck!”

When he pulls back to gaze into your eyes lovingly, his red eyes widen.

“Pika…”

You’re gripping the sheets, tears falling down your cheeks. He’s big, stretching your virgin cunt painfully. If he hadn’t prepped you with his fingers, it would have really hurt.

You sniffle, and his overprotective side kicks into over drive. Kurapika kisses away your tears, cooing. “I know, I know it hurts. Just relax…”

He laps at your neck gently, attempting to calm you down. His hips are moving on their own, slow, but he won’t be able to hold himself back for much longer.

Kurapika caged his little mate underneath him, grunting as he began to thrust in and out, feeling your tight cunt squeeze around him. “K-Kurapika!”

He continued to nuzzle your neck as you whined, still trying to get used to his size. His thrust got faster, his thick cock pushing into you as he growled.

“Mine…” he growled. His voice sounded different now, the soft, soothing tone he always used with you replaced with a low, deep growl.

“Pika…” you manage to squeak out when he pushes your legs to your chest, fucking into your like an animal. His red eyes peer down at you, cloudy with lust.

“Gotta… gotta breed…” he groaned out, leaning forward to give you sloppy kiss.

“Pika, gonna-!”

You cum, and his claws dig into your plush thighs as you squeeze around his cock. “Again!”

He keeps pounding you through your orgasm, wanting you to squeeze him more and more. “More… more…”

He can barely speak, too lost to his rut to even think. The only thing on his mind was cumming inside you as much as possible, until you were so full it leaked down your legs.

He cums inside you for the first time that night, holding onto you so tight you struggle to breathe. He whimpers and whines into your ear as his cum fills you up, his tongue beginning to lap at your cheek. “Mmm…”

You think he’s done after that, his chest moving to rest against your chest. “That was good, Pika…” you coo, running your fingers through his hair. “Let’s go t-“

You squeak as you’re flipped onto your tummy, your familiar grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. He leans over you as his cock pushes back in, clinging to you desperately. “Mmm… mine…”

He sounds so happy, yet… there’s something lurking beneath. You had the distinct impression that this mating session was far from over.

And you would be correct.

A few hours later, tears freely fall down your chubby cheeks. He had you sat on his cock, cooing in your ear as he bounced you. “T-too much! Can’t…” you cried out, sniffling. You couldn’t even remember how many times you’d cum that night, but from the small bulge in your tummy you knew he’d filled you up plenty.

“Shh… shh… take care of it.” he said, gently rubbing at your puffy clit. You continue to whine and whimper. “Just a little more…”

For the past thirty minutes, he’d had you cock warming him, rubbing at your clit to make you cum around his cock over and over. You were incredibly overstimulated, panting and crying.

“Please… too much!”

You cried out as you came again, the man behind you purring. “My good girl~” he purred, and you could feel him rut against you as he came again.

After that, he pinned you back down and began pounding you again, giving you little time to steady yourself.

Several more hours passed, and you could barely think. You were fucked dumb, both his and your cum running down your legs to pool on the bed beneath you.

Kurapika started to whine as he thrusted into you. He was becoming overstimulated too, but his mind was too focused on breeding you to stop. His hips kept moving, and he whined into your neck.

“(Name)!” he cried out as he came again, sniffling against your skin. You tried your best to comfort him, this couldn’t be easy for him either. He was a virgin, it was his first time going through his rut with another person, and he just couldn’t stop. It felt too good.

“Mmm… gotta have my puppies p-please!” he whimpered. He needed to get you pregnant, his instincts not allowing his hips to stay still.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay…” you were struggling to speak, feeling him pound into you again ruthlessly after pausing. He looked up at you, teary eyed and red faced.

“Hnn…”

He smashed his lips into yours, and you both whined and cried together. Kurapika nuzzled his nose against yours, whimpering. “Gonna… gonna knot you soon…”

“Knot..?”

That confused you. Was he going to bend you into a different position, like a knot? You were too tired and sore for that!

You were about to tell him no, but then he came again, and you started to realize what he meant.

His cock swelled up inside you, stretching your cunt to its limit. You cried out, tears falling down your cheeks. “T-too big!”

He sniffled, lapping at your tears before holding you close. “Shh, shh…”

Kurapika tried his best to comfort you as you were stretched impossibly wide, tummy bulging uncomfortably. You openly sobbed now, the man only able to kiss and gently rub your clit to help loosen you up a little. “I know, angel. I know…”

He put his own discomfort to the side, giving you kisses and using his free hand to rub circles into your thigh. “Doing so well, love.”

When the swelling stopped, you panted, looking down at the bulge in your tummy. Although he disliked seeing you uncomfortable, he still couldn’t help swallowing thickly and rubbing a hand over the bulge, causing you to whimper. “There…”

He nuzzled against you, purring softly. “My love…”

His eyes clouded over a little as his hand rubbed your clit. He wanted to make you cum around his knot over and over.

After a while, you got used to his knot stretching you out, feeling comfortably fool instead of being painfully stretched. You began to enjoy clenching around his knot, and he did too.

“F-fuck angel… feel so good…”

You came around his knots several times, and even felt a little disappointed when it began to shrink. Kurapika pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed and pulling you close. “You did so good, (Name)…” he said, kissing your forehead.

You were too exhausted to speak, so you nodded, and nuzzled into his chest.

————————

You woke up the next morning to him rutting against your leg, panting and whining. “Pika?”

He looked up at you, that same lust filled gaze staring up at you. “Mine…”

‘Oh no… again?’

In another part of the world, Bisky sat on her couch, humming. “What am I forgetting to do? I think I was supposed to tell someone something…”

She tilted her head. “Hmm. Oh!”

She glanced at (Name)’s picture. “I was supposed to tell her that a werewolf’s rut lasts a week. Oh well, I’ll tell her when I see her next.”

Unbeknownst to Bisky, (Name) was on day 4 of Kurapika’s rut, and was so overstimulated she could barely think.

He only gave her short breaks between breeding sessions, the longest being when he passed out from exhaustion. She could only leave the little nest he made her when she had to use the bathroom, shower, or eat. Although, he seemed rather anxious when he showered.

“No… no my scent…”

She decided against taking showers after the fifth day, because after them he would fuck into her, rubbing himself against her and nuzzling into her until her skin was raw.

By the end of the week, (Name)’s tummy had a small bulge from all the cum she had in her. And she was chubby, this was no easy task!

When his rut was finally over, Kurapika couldn’t stop apologizing for his rough behavior, kissing every little mark he left on her soft skin. “Love you… love you so much, (Name). So sorry…”

He loves you so much, and to know he’d caused you discomfort and mild pain broke his heart. You scratches between his ears, sighing. “It’s okay, Pika. You couldn’t help yourself.”

“Still…” his hands massaged your sore body, his lips kissing your neck. “I’ll make it up to you. I love you…”

“I love you too!”

The next few weeks, he took good care of you to help you recover from his rut.

The meeting of witches was that day, and Kurapika was being very protective. It was almost like he could sense something, something he couldn’t quite place.

“I have to go, puppy, Bisky said she needed to meet with me.” you say as Kurapika holds onto you, growling lowly.

“But… I don’t want you to leave the house…”

You huff. “You can’t even tell me why. I haven’t been able to go in weeks because I was recovering. Come on, everything will be fine. I’ll have you, won’t I?”

He couldn’t argue with that, a small blush on his cheeks. “… yeah. And I wouldn’t let anything ever hurt my mate.”

You were still getting used to him calling you that, your cheeks growing hot. “Mhm…”

———————

You walk hand in hand to the witch meeting, Menchi eyeing the two of you. “Oh? Started dating the mutt?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kurapika’s lip curled up as he growled lowly. “Well, I guess you could say that!”

He calmed down a little when you squeezed his hand. “She’s my mate.”

You blinked, and Menchi blushed. “Oh.”

She didn’t say anything else, letting the two of you through. Your face was hot with embarrassment, the blonde not picking up on it as he held onto you, growling at anyone that came too close before nuzzling you proudly.

Bisky spotted you, her eyes going wide. “(Name)!”

She rushed towards you, taking your hand and squealing. “Oh my gosh, congratulations!”

You blink at her, you and Kurapika glancing at each other before looking to her. “For… what?”

She tilted her head. “You… don’t know? Your pregnant.”

Kurapika’s eyes shot open wide. “Pregnant?”

“With twins, if what I’m seeing is correct.”

You were suddenly pulled into Kurapika hands, his tail thwacking against your leg. “Oh my god! Puppies, we’re having puppies!”

You squeaked, Bisky giggling as he nuzzled into your neck. “Ah, he’s the father I assume? I thought something like this would happen.”

It now made sense why Kurapika had been so protective the past few days. He could probably sense on some subconscious level that you were pregnant, and had been on edge since.

“My perfect angel… you’ll be such an amazing mother to our pups…” he purred into your neck.

“Mhm…”

You kissed his forehead, cupping his cheek.

He loved his little witch more than anything, and you adored your sweet werewolf familiar.

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arachnixe · 4 months

Text

An End To Fate

The goddess watches while her chosen hero arrives at the culmination of his journey. He’s so close now. All he needs to do is raise the amulet and speak the invocation, and the goddess’s great enemy will at last be vanquished.

And yet, he collapses instead. He fails.

Another bad end.

The goddess rolls her eyes with contempt for how easily the demon queen undermines his purpose this time. She claims him, twists his mind and body to suit her disgusting whims, and uses him to repel the lesser knights the goddess sends to reclaim him.

She rejects this outcome the same way she rejected all the other tragic failures she watched play out.

Gripping the Fate-Ending Knife, she reaches as deep into the world as her influence stretches, and with a savage slash she severs this timeline. It thrashes, bleeding raw possibility over her hands as she pulls time’s amputated limb out of the world and tosses it into the pile with all the others.

Events reset. The fated hero is a child once again, full of potential.

And again the goddess laments her inability to reach further back. If she could reset to a point early enough, perhaps she could have chosen another soul altogether to lavish her attentions upon. This one has clearly not lived up to her ambitions.

She sighs. A garden of souls at her disposal, and she wasted so much of her time, power, and attention on one that should’ve been weeded out. She tried abandoning him as a lost cause on several timelines, but all would-be heroes without such soul-cultivation fared even worse. It seems there is no changing that choice now, unfortunately. All she can do is tweak his life’s path and hope things turn out differently.

Keeping him away from degenerate influences on his childhood has become a dance she knows well. She could do the steps in her sleep now. A tragic lightning strike kills the cross-dressing tailor before they meet. His tomboy sister drowns in the river before she decides to act on her more perverse inclinations. Then one of her more fanatical priests feels inspired to show the chosen one kindness when he loses himself in mourning.

Then the goddess falters, unsure what to change this time around. She has tried so many different strategies, none of which fundamentally changed the outcome of this conflict.

Well, perhaps there is one gambit she might take. It may be risky, but what does she have to lose?

When her chosen hero reaches adulthood, just as he grows ready to face the start of his destined journey, he is thrown from his horse in a tragic accident. He does not die, but he comes very, very close—close enough for her to snatch his soul from the world for a moment.

In her hands he stands—his soul taking a form matching his body at the time of his accident—looking up at his goddess in awe.

The goddess smiles down upon him. “How nice to finally meet you face to face, my very favorite waste of effort.”

It is her hero’s turn to falter, face twisting into a pathetic contortion of confusion, but why hold back now? The goddess finally has the chance to tell him exactly what she thinks of all his failures, and she decides to take advantage of it.

“I gave you everything. Every advantage. Strength unrivaled by all. I protected you. I guided you. You could have been unstoppable if you just put genuine effort into applying what I gave you.

“But you let me down. You disappointed me. You squandered all that potential.”

Tears flow down his cheeks. Her hero, crying! Such a pathetic display. “What have I done wrong?” he asks her.

Of course he doesn’t know. In this lifetime he hasn’t done anything to disappoint her yet. He will, though. That much is certain. Unless, of course, he could learn from his past mistakes.

The goddess drops him unceremoniously in front of the wretched tangle of dead timelines. They still quiver and shake and twist into each other in a huge, writhing pile.

The hero’s eyes widen, taking in countless lifetimes of failure.

She watches his soul’s projected form flickering, shifting between his body’s appearance in one timeline after another as his soul experiences the disappointing paths he walked, lifetime after lifetime.

Each shift, each flicker of shape, changes him slightly less than the one before as he approaches a more resilient average of all his self-images.

The goddess scowls, recognizing the body the hero slowly approximates. It’s one she always does her best to steer him away from. Sometimes it’s the tailor that puts the idea into his head, sometimes it’s his sister, sometimes it’s any number of others, and sometimes she truly has no idea where he gets it from.

Once it’s in there, he pursues the obsession with more devotion than he ever shows her.

In those lifetimes he is taken by this confusion, he finds the magic or the alchemy to reshape his body into something mangled and feminized, or else he is offered such a body during his confrontation with the demon queen in exchange for his allegiance. The goddess is never more disgusted with him than when he accepts such an offer.

And here he is, once again choosing to throw away the body she crafted for him to inhabit—ungrateful for it, even—in some mindless craving to be something he is not.

“Even now you fail me, learning the wrong lessons from your mistakes,” the goddess says. “Next time I will have to be more selective about what lifetimes I show you.”

Her fated hero—a man again grotesquely in the shape of a woman—turns to face her.

She sees no more reverence in his eyes. The groveling posture of an inexperienced whelp is replaced by the confident poise of a warrior who’s fought countless lifetimes of battle.

His glare is as blasphemous as his form.

“Every opportunity for happiness,” he says, voice higher pitched than it was when she pulled him from his life. “You erased them. None of my wives ever knew me now, or they no longer exist thanks to your meddling. My true goddess does not even remember my faithful service.”

“She is a demon, you pathetic good-for-nothing,” the goddess rasps, voice filled with spite. “I am your only true goddess!”

“You’re the one who took away all my happy endings!” The hero’s shouting catches her off guard. It is not as small as it should be.

When did his soul’s stature grow to where he could stare his own goddess in the eye with such venom?

The goddess’s eyes flick to the knife resting nearby. It has become time to end this attempt.

The hero parses the glance immediately. Many lifetimes of battle-hardened instincts explode into action.

The goddess, a being who had never fought her own battles in her immortal life, is simply too slow and too clumsy to stop the hero. Before she can react, the knife is pressed to her throat.

“You wouldn’t dare—”

The hero dares. With a savage slash, the Fate-Ending Knife spills a goddess’s blood, and a mortal woman takes control of her own life for the first time.

She can return to her body at the point they resuscitate her, bringing all this knowledge with her.

Or…

She stares at the knife in her hands. She remembers countless lifetimes of goddess-inflicted scars.

The hero makes up her mind.

Without hesitation, she reaches into the world—as deeply as she can—and severs this timeline.

#empty spaces #my writing #repost #demons #corruption #chosen ones #gods #trans #abuse

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peoplesgraves · 2 years

Text

Reset

Yandere Reaper X Reader

Your eyes open and you’re somewhere unfamiliar. As far as the eye can see is gray sand and an equally gray sky. The sand crunches underneath your feet and a cool breeze blows from the sky. Someone is holding your hand. His is skeletal and almost engulfed by the baggy black robes he wears but for some reason it doesn’t scare you.

“Where am I?” You look up at the much talller man and he looks oddly familiar.

“The barrens.” He starts right back down at her. His sunken gaze immediately softening at her confused face. “It’s where souls who have forgotten who they are go.”

You look out into the distance and manage to see people aimlessly wandering. Paying no attention to eachother or to the reaper. “Is this where I’m going?”

The reaper shakes his head and tightens his grip on your hand. “No. Never.��

“Promise?”

“I promise. Even when you forget I’ll remember for you.” A bright light engulfs you and suddenly you’re in a field of wild flowers.

“Wow. Is this where people who remember go?”

The reaper nods “there are a lot of afterlife’s like this one. For now this ones empty so it’s just for us.” He leans down to pick a flower. He ends up with a pink one that smells like raspberries. He tucks it behind your ear and legs his fingers ghost over you for just a second longer then needed. “Beautiful.”

The two of you stay in that afterlife for a while. You weave him a flower crown and he blushes when you call him beautiful. Soon though things start to darken again.

“Who are you?”

The reaper sighs sadly. This was so much worse then asking where you were. “I’m a reaper.”

“Hmm. Are you my reaper?”

He smiles sadly and grabs your hand. “If you want me to be.”

“Just one more question” you grasp his hand tighter as if gearing yourself up.

The reaper was similarly unready. This was his least favorite question of all. He would rather be stabbed 1000 times then see this look in your eyes.

“Who am I?” Your eyes turn glassy and fear invades at the realization that you have no idea who you are.

Instead of answering the reaper takes you to another afterlife. The travel causes your memory to reset and the reaper is spared from your questions for a while.

You sit on the beach and all of a sudden a large mostly human figure is next to you.

You give the man a friendly grin. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’ve been hurting someone I love and I’m more sure how to fix it.” The reaper grabs a handful of sand and lets it fall through his fingers. He unable to look you in the eye, afraid your memory will suddenly return.

You frown softly. “Maybe it would help to tell me about it”

“Humans aren’t made to be traveling like reapers. I’ve been selfish and kept them with me despite knowing how negatively it’s affecting them. Now they’re memory is too far gone for me to send their soul to their afterlife” The reaper looks down guiltily and sighs “what should I do?”

“I think the best you can do is just to be there for them now.” You shrugs “if I was forgetting everything then I’d want someone there for me.”

The reaper smiles softly. “You’re right. I won’t leave them. Thank you” he kisses the top of your hand and can feel butterflies at the blush that coats your face. It was just like the first time again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere reaper #yandere Grimm reaper #yandere monster #yandere beast #yandere fantasy #yandere mythical creature

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vera-king-hrfl · 14 days

Text

With all the talk of dancing today, you all have inspired me. This is a lead-in to the spicy Zevlor fic I wrote a while ago, typed furiously on my phone while I was at work. Apologies for any formatting issues, y'all know I'm garbage at that anyway.

“Dance with me?”

Zevlor’s head snaps up as you approach. He’d been standing alone beyond the firelight as if trying to blend in with the darkness, his arms crossed, staring at a random spot on the ground somewhere in front of him. Glowering, to your estimation. You had been looking for him, and the soft siren call of the tiefling’s presence drew you to him here in the dim flickering of the distant fires. He looks for a moment like a startled deer, before flinching and sketching a brief bow. “I beg your pardon, my lady. I was miles away. Did you need something?”

You laugh softly and hold out your hand. “I asked you to dance with me, Zevlor. Please?”

He looks at your outstretched fingers and swallows, staring at your hand as if it were a snake about to strike. “Oh… I do not… I am not very good at dancing. There are others who would be better for… hm.” His consternation is so adorable, you think, but you don’t let up, instead moving closer, gazing up as the flames in his eyes pulse lightly. He tenses a little, as if preparing to bolt. “You should try Ikaron. He can… or even Alfira. She’s a wonderful dancer. I am afraid I may just trip over my feet and embarrass us both.” But his hands twitch, clawed fingers briefly flexing, and you sense the heat of him rising. If his skin weren’t already a beautiful shade of deep red, you’d have sworn he was blushing.

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. “Alfira is playing the music. And Ikaron seems so determined not to enjoy himself… everyone else has a partner. I am afraid it will have to be you, Commander. Would you really deny me one little dance?” You let yourself pout a little, and risk touching him, placing your hand lightly over his where it grips his biceps.

He swallows again tightly, looking down at your hand, before allowing himself to relax a bit. “I think I could deny you nothing… I mean…” he coughs, “alright. One song. But you must forgive me if I disappoint. I am more accustomed to the battlefield and the barracks than genteel society functions.” He smiles, finally and slips his fingers into yours. His hand is incredibly warm, and grips you firmly. His other joins, chafing lightly at the dorsal surface. “Your hands are cold.” His eyes widen as he realizes what he’s said. “That wasn’t meant to be a criticism. I know that you are… just… let’s just go.”

“I think you’re warm enough for the both of us.” You giggle softly and begin to lead him closer to the fire, where groups and couples are swirling around Alfira, who is currently playing a lively number on her lute and singing gaily. You catch her eye and she nods, grinning, and shortly brings her tune to an end amidst the laughter and applause. She tunes the instrument for a few minutes, giving the dancers time to grab a drink and reset themselves. You pull Zevlor into position, placing yourself before him and smiling up into his eyes. He gulps, and then, as Alfira’s nimble fingers caress the strings in a more sedate, almost sensual melody, he bows, takes your hands, and begins to move.

His steps are not vigorous or intricate, but he has a warrior’s grace as he guides you around him, turning to keep you in his sight. Those burning eyes never leave you, even when he cups your waist and lifts you easily before turning in a quick circle and setting you down again. A soft smile spreads on his angular face, his hands more confident. A dip, a rise, a light press of his palm on your back. He mainly moves your body, keeping his feet in roughly the same spot as the dance goes on. He is certainly not tripping over himself, you note as he twirls you once, twice, appearing to actually be enjoying himself for the moment. You feel the heat of him as he pulls your back briefly to his chest, swaying before guiding you back out again. You see his free hand curl loosely around a lock of your flying hair, letting the silken strands flow through his fingers. His tail, which curls sinuously around him, occasionally brushes against your bare ankles. As the song ends, he draws you flush against him, with a hand on your lower back, and goes still.

His eyes burn into you, his hand warm on you, and he wets his lips, suddenly looking rather frightened. Your stomach flip flops as you get a glimpse of two tapered points. He usually speaks tightly, through gritted teeth, so you’ve never noticed that his tongue is forked. His gaze moves to your own mouth, and he catches his lower lip with his sharp pointed teeth. You let your hand drift up his chest, curling around his shoulder, and apply just a whisper of pressure. Inviting him to do what he so obviously wants. His grip tightens as the world fades, and you part your lips with a tiny gasp when he begins to lower his head.

A sudden, loud wolf whistle cuts through the fog, making you both jump, and Zevlor’s head jerks up, quickly smothering a frustrated snarl. Everyone is looking at the two of you, their eyes glowing with tipsy tiefling amusement. He smiles thinly, releasing you and lifting his palms in good-natured surrender before taking your hand and leading you back to his previous spot, followed by laughing applause and a few catcalls.

Your heart is racing as you take your position by his side. He relaxes his grip, but you do not, instead pressing his hand more firmly, and glance up at him. “I do not know what all the fuss was about. You’re a wonderful dancer. I forgot where I was, for a moment.”

He does not protest, but instead mutters thanks and allows you to remain, holding his hand and standing close enough to feel his warmth. He is gazing out at the others, who seem to have lost interest in ribbing the older man, and have returned to their merrymaking. “It is so good to see them smiling. It… all of this has been very hard on them.” His voice is casual, but when he cuts his eyes down to look at you, you see what seems to be a flicker of pain dart across the orange surface, before he tries a slightly wobbly smile and looks away. “I should go. There are still things I… you should stay and enjoy yourself. You deserve it after all you’ve done for us.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, sidling a bit closer and keeping your voice low. “And what of yourself, Zevlor? You’ve been through just as much. Do you not deserve a little comfort as well?” You think you already know his opinion on that, but you don’t give him a chance to start depreciating himself again. “I myself… we’ve all had a difficult time with things of late. But shared burdens are lighter. Will you not stay with me, for a little while?”

“It’s my responsibility…” he begins, but then sighs. He nods, but then his expression becomes thoughtful. He’s worrying something over in his mind, you think, and you wait, silent, giving him time to organize his thoughts. When he finally speaks, his words come in a quiet, breathy rush. “I do not… they do not need a dusty old soldier glowering at them tonight. But if you are still interested in my company, I will return to my office. You may join me there if you wish. I have a map to finalize with Tilses, but then I will send her to join the party. She… sleeps with the others. I should be alone within the hour. Then we can… talk.” He glances back at you, seeming surprised by his own boldness, and you nod in agreement as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses briefly before releasing you and moving off into the shadows. You feel your cheeks burn with a flush, because you know he doesn’t really want to talk. Zevlor, Hellrider, former Commander of the cavalry forces of Elturel, has just invited you to his bed.

#zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor bg3 #i'm ok i swear #Dancing with Zevlor #suggestive

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txfeline720 · 1 month

Text

Title: Chair cushion

Rating: G

Summary: In which Skyfire teaches Sideswipe a lesson.

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

Skyfire stared at his reflection in the mirror with wide optics. His processor had stalled momentarily, trying to understand what exactly he was looking at.

Instead of the normal white paintjob with a dash of red and blue he normally sees when he wakes up from recharge, Bumblebee yellow with small black and white squares running up his sides has taken its place. On his front, written in bold letters, was "Taxi Bot."

It was those painted words that brought the answer to the mystery of who the culprit was. Someone red. Someone who loved pushing the buttons on anyone they deemed worthy of it. Someone who was about to learn why you don't light bombs that have fuses that stretch for miles on end. Because it's those bombs that cause the biggest explosions in the most unexpected of ways.

Thunder rumbled inside Skyfire's head as he muttered one word in a voice colder than the ice that had imprisoned him for millions of years.

"Sideswipe."

----

"Dang it, Skyfire, put me down!"

The said cherry goblin was squirming with all his might, trying to break free from the iron grip of the shuttle. To say Sideswipe was shocked when Skyfire stormed into the rec room while he was having his energon and being snatched up before he could do anything would be an understatement. The shock soon switched to determination to get out of the embrace and get back to his energon.

Skyfire was not having it. "I could tolerate somewhat being called a taxibot, Sideswipe. But painting me like one is one step too far," he said, staring down at the Lambo sternly.

"It was just a prank for Primus's sake," Sideswipe exclaimed. "Besides, you're not the only one to have that happen too. Just lighten up already." He tried biting into Skyfire's hands to make him let go, but to no avail.

"That's enough." The Shuttle changed his grip so Sideswipe wouldn't try biting again. "I believe a little punishment is in order for this." He scanned the room and spotted a large chair made for larger frames. With Sideswipe still in his grip, he walked over to it.

"You're going to sit right here until I'm ready to move as well."

That got Sideswipe to stop squirming and look up at Skyfire defiantly. "Oh yea? What's stopping me from getting up? And what do you mean when you're ready?

The shuttle brought the Lambo to eye level so he could see the smirk blooming on his faceplate. And what is that glint in Skyfire's optics? "Because I never said you'd be sitting by yourself."

Faster than Sideswipe could comprehend, he was quickly dumped into the chair, and the last thing he saw was a shuttle-sized aft coming down at him before the world went white.

----

"Hey, Prime."

Optimus looked up from the report he was writing to see Bumblebee standing outside his office. "What is it?" It didn't escape his notice that the minibot was trying and failing not to grin.

Bumblebee took a moment to compose himself. "I think you're needed in the rec room right now."

Optimus gave a weary sigh at that. "If it has to do with Sideswipe, Prowl is capable of taking care of it," he said, getting back to his writing.

"Actually, it also has to do with Skyfire as well," Bumblebee clarified.

That got Optimus's attention, and he looked back up at the minibot. "How?" As far as he remembered, Skyfire never gave anyone trouble.

Bumblebee merely waved for Optimus to follow. "I think you need to see this for yourself."

Abandoning the datapad for now, the two of them walked to the rec room to see what the problem was. They heard it before getting there.

"Get off of me, you slagging shuttle!"

They walked in, and Optimus had to reset his optics when he saw it.

Skyfire was sitting in a large chair, reading from a datapad. A cube of energon was standing on one of the arm rests. Normally, something like that would not be worth paying attention to. It was the red mech having a fit underneath said Shuttle that was making it worth it.

"Skyfire, I mean it. You're crushing me; get off!" Sideswipe tried once again to beg for deliverance from this crushing punishment.

A hum of acknowledgement was all the Lambo would get from Skyfire. More pressure was put on him when the shuttle shifted a bit to get more comfortable. Skyfire took a second to check his internal chromometer. "Ten more minutes, and then you can get up, Sideswipe. I hope I won't have to do this again. I don't really like punishing anyone, even you, believe it or not," he admitted with a small smile, moving a free hand underneath him to give a pat to the squished mech. "Even if you do get on my nerves."

Optimus and Bumblebee continued staring at the whole thing in silence. Bumblebee looked up at his leader and broke it. "So, are you going to do anything about this, Prime?"

Optimus kept staring at Skyfire, who took a break from reading for a sip of energon, and at Sideswipe, who had not yet resigned to being a chair cushion for ten more minutes.

"No."

Without another word, he turned around and walked in the direction of his office, leaving behind a confused Bumblebee. Sideswipe made his bed, and he will say good night, sleep in it tightly, and won't let the scraplets bite. Though by this time he'll take the scraplets over being sat on any day, thank you.

#transformers #transformers g1 #skyfire #sideswipe #transformers fanfiction

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that-new-author · 2 years

Note

Can I request a story with the narrator reacting to the reader getting hurt in some way? For context I think they’d be in the game here and maybe they stumble and fall off something? Thank you!

Hopefully this is good enough haha

Narrator and Reader who gets injured in the parable

CW: Injury

Currently, you were already in the lounge. You laugh quietly to yourself as the Narrator berates you for going off track. Brushing off his complaints, you head over to the Warehouse, preparing to use the platform to go across.

As you attempt to get on the platform though, you trip and fall off to the floor beneath. The loud thud you made when you hit the ground echoed throughout the room. You groan in pain as you lay there for a moment.

The Narrator laughs, starting to go on about how you should’ve expected consequences from going off his story, before realizing the game wasn’t resetting. Hold on, that’s not right. Is something wrong with the game’s code? It should’ve reset by now.

You are now trying to stand up. You lean on one of the shelves near you to try and gain balance. It works for a moment before you lose your grip and fall back to the floor. You huffed and decided to just sit there instead, leaning back against the shelf and looking up to the ceiling, silently asking Narrator “what the hell is going on?”

Narrator clears his throat, trying to sound calm. “Now, I’m not trying to alarm you, but it seems something is wrong with the game’s code because I can’t get it to reset.” Internally, he was panicking. What is going on?!

“Are, uh, are you alright?” He asks you, before quickly adding on, “not that I care or anything.”. Always has to protect his ego, of course.

“Yeah, I think I’m okay, just can’t really, you know, walk.” You respond, sighing in defeat.

“You know what? Just give me a second.” The Narrator says, and you hear what sounds like the typing of a keyboard. After a couple moments a pair of crutches manifests a few inches away from you, clattering to the ground. “Its the best I can do while I try to figure out what’s wrong with the code.”

You reply with a quiet “thank you” and grab the pair of crutches. It takes you a couple minutes to get up, stumbling a little bit. Once you do get up though, the crutches help a lot with stabilization and balance.

You and Narrator chat for a while whilst he messes with the code a little bit, trying to figure out what exactly went wrong. You laugh to yourself as you let him complain about how he “doesn’t understand how something could’ve gone wrong when his game is absolutely perfect!”. His ranting successfully distracted you from the overwhelming pain.

After a good few hours of ranting and lighthearted teasing, you hear the Narrator exclaim “aha!” and a flurry of fast typing before everything fades to black.

You wake up a couple seconds later back in your office. All the pain you felt from your devastating fall has disappeared, and you let out a sigh of relief. You gently lean back in your office chair and look up at the ceiling.

“I’m assuming that you’re no longer in pain?” Narrator asks. You nod and he lets out a little hum. “That’s good. Anyway, shall we?” You nod again.

“This is the story of a person named Reader…”

#Authors Requests #the narrator x reader #the stanley parable #tspud narrator #tsp narrator #writing #writing requests #oneshot

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pocketramblr · 6 months

Note

hey here's a more positive au suggestion for the five ask game: what if erasure auto killed nomus? Because their only kept going because of their quirk factors (and erasure sort of turns that off whoops)

I'm so mad I got 4/5 hc written and Tumblr deleted it. Ok let's do this one more time.

1- note: important for this to work, Aizawa does not initially erase Kurogiri at the start of USJ, but we'll get to that. After taking out all the other villains on the plaza, Aizawa erases the nomu. Shigaraki laughs because it won't work, and orders nomu to kill. The nomu doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. No brain activity, it couldn't hear the orders. Aizawa knocks it over, and it stays still. Dead.

2- both Shigaraki and Aizawa are baffled - the later more so when he blinks, and the nomu shudders back to life, reset. In the process of making it, it died many times. Shigaraki, relieved, orders it to attack again... It doesn't. Shigaraki isn't in the most basic set of orders, it would need to be reprogrammed to listen to him. Aizawa erases it again just to be safe. Shigaraki gets mad and goes to attack the students in the lake, so Aizawa blinks and erases him again instead. He grabs onto Tsuyu and can't decay. Izuku attacks- and OFA is in the base code. The nomu moves, and grabs him. Shigaraki takes this as a sign the nomu reset and tries new orders. It doesn't work. Tsuyu and Mineta back away carefully at Izuku's nod. Shigaraki tries to shake the nomu, or get Izuku from it's grip. Nothing works. The whole time he complains about how hard it was to have nomu made.

3- Aizawa blinks and reactivates erasure, tugging Izuku away with the scarf as soon as the nomu's grip loosens. Both of them put together the pieces from Shigaraki's ranting - or at least, figure out this was a science experiment made from at least one corpse.

"Aizawa-sensei, I think... You'd need to stop it all the way while erasure's down, so it can't... Come back to life." Izuku whispers.

"I know, shh. Run as soon as you can and don't break anything."

4- Aizawa only has a pocket knife with him, he doesn't bring the patrol blade with him to UA- a mistake he won't make again. He isn't sure if he could take the nomu down with it anyway. Shigaraki has had enough, and yells for Kurogiri, ordering him to drop Eraser and the brat from somewhere too high to survive. Aizawa erases him- and Kurogiri collapses.

"You're a nomu too??" Shigaraki had no clue. But he also realizes that his exit is gone- for a few more seconds, until Aizawa blinks again. When he does, Shigaraki doesn't waste time on anything else - he jumps down to him and gives the oldest emergency order he knows, from the first time he was given Kurogiri. "The demon lord orders bring all for one!"

They vanish into a warpgate.

5- Izuku is stunned. Aizawa is also stunned, but moves first- grabbing the nomu and moving it, then restraining. He orders Izuku to rejoin his classmates upstairs, as the door should be free now to go through. Izuku finds Thirteen fallen and moves to help, and that's where All Might finds them. Izuku gets up first to warm him about nomu- the absorption, handling OfA, being made of corpses, and the weird thing Shigaraki said before they vanished. All Might frowns more, and moves everyone outside - everyone, he grabs all the other students from the different sections quickly, then goes to meet Aizawa, who erased nomu and cut it's finger, finding no flow or blood pressure before he blinked and it healed. All Might nods, and takes the knife while Aizawa begins restraining the other villains, refusing to wait a bit for the rest of backup.

In the bar, Shigaraki is complaining loudly about how they sent him somewhere a single hero could oneshot his two most important party members and it wasn't even All Might (it was pretty cool though). Ujiko is complaining loudly about how long it's going to take to reprogram Kurogiri, compared to the lower cost of making standard nomu. AfO is complaining loudly about how Kurogiri's quirk is too useful to be compared to boring standard nomu and how someone needs to kill Eraser yesterday. (They tried. It didn't work then and won't now. Instead they'll just have to be very careful about not bringing any nomu around where he could be.)

#which won't be too hard since he isn't around hosu and the chainsaw nomu doesn't go near him #but Tomura will only have two nomu and a semi nerfed Kurogiri in Hosu #so changes will ripple out #plus you know Toshi suspects AfO a little earlier #pocket talks to people #anon #ask game

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badwithten · 1 year

Photo

11:21 PM

PAIRING Bangchan x fem!reader

GENRE fluff

WORD COUNT 598

A/N first fic back! not sure how good this is?? very rushed but just wanted to post something lol, so a small time stamp for chan:)

You never would be out of the house this late normally. Even on nights out you enjoyed showering and returning to the comfort of your own home before 10PM. But now it was approaching midnight and you sat on the damp bench outside of your apartment complex waiting for your lover to return home to you. Each car that approached made your heart grow with excitement, but it shrunk each time it didn't slow. Chan had been on tour for months now, and although you knew he wouldn't be home for long before he had to depart again, even seeing him for a minute was enough.

Chan soothed your soul, any hurt or discomfort melted away when you were in his arms. His solid chest is a place for you to rest, your emotions resetting and recharging. It was cheesy to say, but you truly believed Chan was your soulmate. You hadn’t been in many relationships but the few you had been in felt nothing like this. And even during those long romances, you truly thought you were in love.

But Chan, his love tasted different. He was your ice cold water in the middle of the night, the shade from intense heat on those hot Australian days. He built you up, never once knocking you down. You always described your mood as low before you meet him, but ever since you've been on a constantine high.

Maybe it was toxic to love so much, dangerous to be so dependent on someone. As you knew if Chan decided to move on you'd be distraught. But that was the thing about Chan's love, he was so transparent, so dedicated to proving how much he loved you.

Your eyes grew heavy and hands cold waiting so long for him to return home, but you knew if you waited inside youd fall asleep before he would arrive. And knowing Chan he wouldnt wake you, but you dont think you could wait til tomorrow to see him.

At last a car slowed to a stop outside of your apartment and you jumped up from your seat, pracotially bouncing from excitement. It was as if the gates of heaven opened and your own guardian angel finally decensedn. You could tell he was exhausted, the bags under his eyes and shoulders slumped. But that didnt stop him from wearing the biggest smile youve seen on him. Before you had a chance to say anything or react to his sudden arrival you were engulfed in his arms. His grip was tight, as if he was scared to let go. He buried his head into your shoulders and you could feel him breath down your neck. Not a word was spoken for a long while but his presence was enough.

Your hands were trapped against both your bpdies, still in your pockets. Evently you managed to sneak them out and wrap them around his waist. The feeling made him relax, loosening his grip. And at last he pulled away, finally taking in the glow of your face.

“Hey love” His voice was deep, giving you a shiver that wasnt from the cold. “I missed you”

You didnt say anything in response, instead capurting his mouth in a kiss. Warmth filled you up. He was back. After a moment more of taking in each others presence, he finally stepped away and took your hand in his.

“Let’s get inside your freezing”

“I hope you still have your keys, I think I left mine inside”

“Y/N!"

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songbookff · 16 hours

Note

Ooh for the touch prompts, how about #49 for Picard/Crusher:

holding onto the other’s shoulders for support

My loves. Thank you for sending this one. One of my first true OTPs.

"Keep still!"

"I am staying still!"

"Well I can't do this if you are moving!"

"I'm not moving!"

The ship lurched again and Jean Luc had to steady himself, one hand against the wall, the other firmly gripping the calf of Beverly's leg. He heard her grumble above him and he rolled his eyes instead of responding.

Her heels were digging into his shoulders as she stood perched, reaching up into the vent above, trying desperately to reset the electrical circuit so they could get out of this corridor.

How this happened to the Captain and the Chief Medical Officer of the ship, he still didn't know. No comms and they were losing life support by the minute. He knew that Will had the rest of the ship under control. Right now he was more concerned about getting himself and Beverly out alive.

So far, it seemed their plan was working. It was quickly established that Beverly wasn't going to be able to hold Jean Luc's weight, so he had been walking her through the circuit from memory. And either it had been too many years since he had taken electrical engineering or Beverly was terrible at taking direction.

Probably a bit of both...

The ship rocked again and this time Jean Luc couldn't keep his footing. He lurched backwards, trying to catch Beverly as she fell. They crashed into the wall, trying to remain upright. He heard Beverly cry out in pain as she landed.

Then the power went out completely. Darkness greeted him, unable to make out her face. But he held onto her waist and could feel the tension in her body.

"Beverly?"

"I think I broke my ankle," she groaned. She squirmed around where he had her pinned to the wall so they were facing each other, if they could see. Beverly gripped his shoulders, painfully digging in her fingertips where her feet had been just moments before.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I believe we have bigger problems to worry about." If the power was out, so was life support. They had minutes left, if that. He felt her lean her forehead slowly towards his and let out a gentle sigh once they touched.

"Always so negative," she jested, sliding one of hands across the back of his shoulders and then removing her head from his, jumped around to his side in the dark. He did his best to wrap his arm around her supportively. "Get us to the door, Captain."

They awkwardly moved to the door and he heard her blindly feel around for the door panel.

"Beverly," he murmured. Time was running out. There was no way to get the door open now.

"Any last words?" she asked.

"I don't think I could come up with the proper way to tell you how much I love you." Acting on impulse alone, he turned his head to press a kiss into the softness of her hair, still unable to see anything.

"Do you know what I love most?" she asked. He wasn't sure he wanted to use up his last breath talking with her. He would rather kiss her as his last action in the galaxy. He made a non-committal noise as her arm started to slip off his shoulders. "That I am still able to surprise you."

The door between pending death and the remainder of the ship slid open and the bright shining light of the Enterprise burst through. Klaxons blared and he could hear the shouting of the crew. He glanced over and Beverly was smirking at him.

"You reset the circuit."

"Yes, but I had to bypass the life support. That's why we lost power."

"Beverly!"

"You really thought we were going to die," she teased, but he bumped her hip playfully and she clung to him, wincing as she accidentally put weight on her ankle. Served her right.

"I will say this, Doctor, if I was going to spend my last moments with someone, I was happy to spend it with you."

"Flatterer." She placed a kiss to his cheek. "Now, Captain, let's go save your ship."

#jean luc picard #beverly crusher #picard/crusher

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month

Text

📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 4608

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, enemas, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 8: Sensory Reset Therapy

Previously:

Steve may have made up his mind to quit Hydra, but he still has a job to do for the time being, and that’s to take care of Bucky the way he needs. He finds the specific audio track he wants and sends it through to the room’s system, then closes out the laptop. "Okay bub," he says, pushing out from the desk and standing. "Time to come down nice and gentle from your high."

He goes over to where Bucky’s been investigating the plushies and steers him towards the area of the room that’s covered in foam floorboards. Bucky’s eyes light up and he starts heading for the very same rocker that Steve had scraped him off of that morning. Steve chuckles and grabs him by the shoulders, pulling him away from it. “Ah ah, bub. You’ve had enough of that today.”

“But Steeeve,” he whines, sounding younger than usual. “I need to. I feel all … nghh.” He makes a face and squirms, rubbing his padded butt back on Steve to no avail. “Please?”

Steve calms him down with promises that he’ll get to have as many orgasms as he wants during this session. “What do you think we’re in here for, silly?” Bucky goes lax again at the promise, and waits while Steve gets everything ready for their session together. “You’ve done one on one sensory before, yeah?” he checks, already knowing the answer. Bucky nods, and Steve rumbles in approval. “Okay, good. That’s what we’re going to do.”

Bucky looks at the things Steve’s arranged and huffs, though his scent betrays his interest. “Why can’t I just rock?” he whines. Steve pulls him close and threads a hand into his hair, using a gentle but sturdy grip to ease his head back and force eye contact. Bucky looks up at him with parted lips and blown pupils. “Alpha?”

Steve kisses his forehead to keep from kissing him straight on his mouth. “It’s because of the fit you had earlier, Honey. I can’t just let you rock mindlessly. This is a partnered activity. We need to keep you present and engaged while you feel things, so you don't just slip into another fugue.”

Bucky grumbles obstinately, and Steve smiles and bops him on the nose with a finger.

“Don’t be that way. Any time we do hormone inflation we gotta do sensory after. Those’re the rules.” He doesn’t bother detailing it much further, knowing that the information would probably only go in one ear and out the other, with the state Bucky’s in right now. Instead, he uses both hands to give him a scalp massage and explains, “This’ll help you come down nice n’ steady, bub. It’s gonna feel really good.”

Bucky, who currently has his face mushed into Steve’s chest, groans in pleasure and nods. “Mmph. Kay.”

“Good boy.” Steve pulls him back and gets a look at his face. “Do you want to keep your clothes on or be naked?” he asks. “Any way you want is fine. It’ll just be different based on what you pick.” He waits patiently while Bucky struggles to decide. When it becomes clear that the kid is too dumbed down to make much of a choice, and that the options are stressing him out, Steve takes pity on him. “Why don’t we start with taking just your top off for now, huh?” He rubs his upper arms, squeezing lightly. “Mm? That way I can touch your chest and your tummy. How’s that sound?”

Bucky chirps in agreement, so Steve helps him with the shirt, then guides him down to kneeling on the padded floor. “There ya go.” He pushes over a half barrel-shaped support for Bucky to straddle, helping him settle over it. “How’s that?” he checks, palming his shoulders. “Comfy?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. His eyes are already hazy, looking like they’re ready to slip closed at any moment. He shifts a little in place, moving his bottom against the support and feeling the pressure of it between his legs. His shoulders stiffen for the barest second, and then he relaxes even further, humming happily as his hips give another experimental shift, and then another. “Oh, mm, mmm …”

He’s so sweet when he’s fully in his instincts like this. Steve’s chest flares with fondness and he encourages him with a gentle murmur. “There you go. Good boy. See? You can rub on it like that if you want, and I’ll help you focus on everything else we’re doing.” This particular half-barrel form isn’t as soft as some, and it’s not shaped for mindless stimming in the same way the rockers are. It would take a bit of effort for Bucky to work himself up to orgasm on it, especially with the added layer of his diaper to work through.

Steve watches as he gives a few more hopeful rolls of his hips, the muscles of his legs tensing and releasing underneath his pants as he grips the form with his thighs. Steve keeps rubbing his shoulders until Bucky gives a frustrated whine from the lack of stimulation. He slumps in resignation and looks to his Alpha with big, pitiful eyes, asking for help.

“Good,” Steve praises. “Okay, Honey. So for now I just want you to relax. Can you close your eyes for me?”

He waits, and Bucky obeys and closes his eyes, his dark lashes resting prettily against his cheeks. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, and for a moment he starts moving them closer to his crotch, but then stills as if he’s realized what he's doing, and keeps them on top of his thighs.

Steve swallows heavily, aware of his own dick plumping up in his pants yet again. “Um, good,” he croaks, forcing himself to ignore it. “Okay. Now keep your eyes closed. Just listen to the sound of my voice.”

There are posters on the wall that chart out the various basic ASMR starter dialogues. Steve chooses the one that matches the audio file he selected, and he reads through it in a low and soothing voice while keeping his hands heavy on Bucky’s shoulders. He can feel Bucky shiver in response to the intimate and praise-heavy words. It’s an old-school, traditional gender roles-themed script; a guided dialogue of an alpha to their omega, with lots of pet names and gentle comforting. The track that goes with it, Steve knows, has a lot of the hypothetical omegas' soft moans, and the alpha's answering murmurs of encouragement—all things which Bucky has responded well to in the past.

“Okay,” he says when he’s finished the sample. “So that’s what the audio will be like.” He slides his hands up Bucky’s neck and circles his thumbs in at the base of his skull just behind his ears, eliciting a quiet moan. “Did you like how it made you feel when I said those things?”

Bucky continues to breathe open mouthed for another minute or two. His lips are swollen and wet, his eyes still closed obediently. There’s a pleasured little pinch between his eyebrows, and he nods his head as he works on verbalizing an answer. “Uhh—uh huh.”

“Good.” Steve pets his hair to comfort him and gently says, “You know … I can smell a little change in your scent right now. Are you aroused?” Bucky whines and Steve shushes him with a chuckle. “No, no, Sweetheart. You’re okay. That’s the answer I was looking for. You’re responding beautifully already, you know that?” He cups Bucky’s face and strokes a thumb gently at the corner of his eyelid. “You're keeping your eyes closed and staying focused just like I asked. What a good job you’re doing. So smart and pretty, being so good for Alpha.”

Bucky doesn’t know it, but it’s been well documented these past three years, how well he reacts to praise. It’s noted in all his charts. He responds much better to gentle praise and encouragement than he does to any sort of firmness or discipline, and he's in the ninetieth percentile for how strongly he responds. Even now, just being given a few words of encouragement, he’s already softening under Steve’s hands.

“Such a good boy for me, Buck,” Steve praises again. He gives his shoulders another squeeze and then pulls away to grab the restraints: a puffy pressure collar that has a strap attached to go down the patient’s back, with two wrist cuffs there, one atop the other, to keep the patient’s hands behind their back. It’s all made from soft but sturdy fabric, and in butter yellow, of all colors; certainly nothing you’d see in a sex shop or a BDSM dungeon. Soft, but it’ll do the job. Normally Steve would think about using one of the comfort coats to really give Bucky the full effect of a long and steady hug, but he has a general idea mapped out of how he wants to stimulate the kid in this session, and he’ll need access to more skin than that would allow. So he brings the restraints over and runs the fabric of the straps against Bucky’s skin: over his cheek and down his naked neck and back. “Feel that?” he asks softly. “It’s a collar and some cuffs in the back. That’s what I’m gonna tie you with, okay?”

Bucky nods, a belated “kay” coming right after. Steve puts the collar on first, wrapping it firmly around his neck and securing the Velcro. Bucky makes a tiny sound at the feeling of the pressure against his glands. “Oh.”

Steve chuckles and moves to secure his wrists. They go one on top of the other, resting right at the small of his back, and Bucky’s hands curl into loose fists as he accepts the restraint. “That feel nice, Honey?” Steve asks.

“Y-yeah.” Bucky tugs a little with his arms, making another small sound of enjoyment when he feels himself held fast. The tugging of his arms will only bring more force through the collar’s pressure points at his glands, so it’s a positive feedback loop. “Mmm. S’nice,” he mumbles. On the half-barrel form, he’s widened his knees a bit, putting more of his weight through his crotch, hips shifting restlessly.

Steve gently stills him. “Hang on, bub. Just a couple more things.” He grabs the blindfold from his pile of supplies. Again, it’s nothing hardcore—just an elasticized loop of blue terrycloth. “Here you go.” He slips it on him and Bucky’s body seems to melt another inch into the floor. Not being able to see will make everything else Steve does to him feel more intense—which is, of course, the entire point of the session. Steve stands in front of him and cups his jaw. Bucky presses his cheek into the touch, and Steve’s previously half hard cock is suddenly filling again, interested in what’s going on. He uses his free hand to give himself a harsh press from over his clothes. “Okay. I’m going to put noise cancelling headphones on you,” he tells him softly. “All you’ll hear is the track, but you’ll feel me stimming you, during. I’ll be right here with you the whole time."

Bucky nods, shifting in position again. “Steve, what if I have to, um … go?”

The fact that he’s even asking means that he must feel at least some urge in his bladder right now. “Then you can,” Steve tells him gently, petting at his cheek. “You’ve got your diaper on. It’ll just be another thing to feel.”

Bucky whimpers and squirms a little at that, but the restraints quickly calm him down.

“Shh, you’re good. Here.” Steve fetches one of the candles he’d lit, kneeling down in front of Bucky and pouring some of the melted oil into his own palm. It’s warm but not too warm, as these candles are designed for aromatherapy massage. He spreads it between his hands and then claps them onto Bucky’s shoulders.

“Ah.” Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat, shocked, and then he lets it out in a long moan. “… Oohhhh.”

“Mm, yeah. I bet that feels good, huh?” Steve leans over for the headphones and checks to make sure the Bluetooth is turned on and working. “You just make some racket if you need ‘em off at any point, m'kay?” He slips them over Bucky’s ears and turns on the ASMR recording. Bucky gets still for a second, listening, and then he relaxes as the soothing tone of the alpha Voice on the track’s dialogue seeps into his brain. Steve continues to massage him with the warm oil while he watches it happen:

He's beautiful, slowly dissolving into pleasured hums and purrs as he takes in the audio. Steve brings his hands down to rub Bucky's chest. It’s still a little swollen from his body’s reaction to the inflation session, his normally flat breast tissue engorged and his nipples puffed up. Steve slides his hands all around, kneading and pressing what little there is to play with between his fingers, thumbing back and forth over the buds of his nipples as they draw into hard peaks, darkening in color and achingly pretty from the shine of the oil. Steve licks his lips and soaks in the sight of his big hands on such delicate skin. Fuck, it’s gorgeous. He hums happily when he can see Bucky beginning to pulse his hips against the form again. “There you go. That’s right. Rock it out while Alpha touches you. Bet it feels so good, huh? All this warm, slippery oil on your tits. They’re extra sensitive right now, aren’t they? Yeah, I know they are.”

Bucky can’t hear him, but Steve murmurs the words anyway, maintaining a steady string of filth to give himself some sort of outlet for his own arousal. Under his pants, his cock is hard and pulsing, pressed uncomfortably against the seam of his compression briefs, not understanding why it hasn’t been buried in somebody’s wet cunt by now when the room is suffused with the smell of an omega’s climbing arousal and slicking asshole. But Steve is a professional, goddammit, so other than a few peevish glances down at his throbbing dick, he manages to ignore it and keep his focus on his patient.

He can tell exactly when the ASMR dialogue finishes, because Bucky becomes restless, frowning and then chirping plaintively at the loss. Steve removes the headphones and rumbles low in his chest to soothe him. “You’re okay. I’m right here with you, bub.”

“Daddy,” Bucky whines, mind still stuck on the audio, which Steve knows used the title 'Daddy' in its script.

Hearing it makes his chest tighten and his balls throb. Bucky’s never really called him that much before. It’s an old-fashioned term, an endearment that encompasses all of the deepest, most intimate things that an alpha can share with their omega. To someone like Steve, it means far more than the title of ‘Alpha’ ever could. It implies care and belonging and devotion. It means love. “Oh, Buck,” he says, moving the massage lower down to the kid’s belly. “Is that what you want? Want me to be your Daddy?”

Bucky moans at the question and at the feeling of big, strong hands rubbing him. He presses into it. “Daddy, yeah, oh …” On the floor, his knees part a little wider and he rocks harder against the form between his legs. The bulge of the diaper is obvious as he humps, and it makes him whimper self-consciously. But Steve encourages him with gentle sounds, holding him at the hips and guiding him in the motions.

“Shhh, that’s good. That’s so good, Bucky. That’s what Daddy wants. Daddy wants you to feel everything.” He brings one hand further down to press on the front of Bucky's pants, squeezing on purpose to make the plastic crinkle. “Mmhm. Feel that?”

“Nnnn, nn-hnngh.”

“Aw,” Steve coos, jostling his handful. “I know, Honey. I know. Does it just feel so nice, all that padding smooshed up between your legs? Rubbing your little cocklet on it?”

Bucky makes a hurt sound and tugs against his restraints, and Steve figures it’s in response to his use of the word 'cocklet'. Before his transition, Bucky had plenty of time to grow up ascribing worth to his penis like any other beta boy, but he’s shrunk up quite a bit in the past few years. One of his therapy goals has always been to build a positive self-image around his changed body.

So Steve shuffles closer on his knees and pulls him into a hug, hushing his cries. “Shhh. S’okay. Daddy loves the way you look down there. You know that? You’re so beautiful. You’re perfect.”

“I sh–shouldn’t ...”

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn't like it?” Bucky makes a miserable little noise of assent, and Steve tuts and rubs his back, finding one of his bound hands and giving it a squeeze. “Stop. It’s okay to let it feel good, bub. It’s okay. I love that this feels good for you, y’know that? I love it.” He kisses the side of his head. “I love you.”

Bucky keens and nuzzles his face against Steve’s chest, leaning fully into him as his scent blooms richer with an added layer of intensely happy omega. He doesn’t say “I love you," but Steve knows it all the same, and his confidence over whether that was the right thing to say out loud is bolstered.

Somehow, at some point, this thing between them has gone from purely medical to intensely personal, from sex to love. And the only thing Steve knows for sure is that it didn’t happen in the last few hours or even in just the last few days. It’s been building for a while, obscured by Steve’s professionalism and Bucky’s insecurities, by the large gaps of time between one stay on-ward and the next. But now that they’re both in a place to let that truth come bobbing to the surface, Steve can finally see the full shape of it: Bucky is meant to be his omega. He always has been.

Steve hugs him tightly for a long moment like that, just breathing in the scent of his pheromones, the slick in his diaper and the cheap hospital shampoo in his hair. Only when Bucky starts moving his hips again does Steve pull back, putting just enough space between them so that he can see everything and enjoy the view.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s world is still completely dark, the soft material of the blindfold blocking out any distractions. His breathing gets a little heavier the more worked up he gets, and even though he’s pretty dumbed down at this point, the sweet thing still tries to communicate, stringing together a bunch of slurred words in lieu of real sentences. “F-feels good … don’ w-wanna … nnngh, it’s so, mmmm, f-feels so—Oh! ... god. I jus’ wanna, I wanna …” he whines loudly in frustration, the tail end of it morphing into an angry sob as his hips shove forward.

Steve tuts and pets him to calm him down. “That’s alright, Sweetie. I know what you’re tryin’ to say. I know it’s a lot. Alpha knows.”

“—l‘pha,”

“Shhh. No need to get frustrated, bub. We’re just exploring all these different feelings, right?” He waits for Bucky to settle down and nod. “Good boy. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, Buck. I’m gonna make you cum, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good. All you gotta do is listen to my voice and sink into it, okay?”

Bucky says his name—a shaky, broken “Ss-teve,” that makes Steve’s heart swell and his cock throb. Without thinking, his hand finds its way to the crotch of his own pants and cups his erection. Fuck, he’s so hard. He even gives in to temptation for a second and squeezes himself, jerking over the fabric to bump the head just the barest bit. But then he gets a hold of himself. He exhales harshly through his nose and yanks his hand away.

No, he thinks sternly. He’s managed to do his job ethically for over three years with this kid tempting him. He’s not going to fuck it up this late in the game. All those things he’s been dreaming of: touching himself, touching Bucky while touching himself, and—god—letting Bucky touch him; those’ll all have to wait just a little bit longer.

He hastily leans over to reach for something from the pile. The suckers are the first thing his fingers touch and he grabs them up, wasting no time in applying them deftly to each of Bucky’s nipples. Bucky, who can’t see what’s coming, makes a sharp cry of surprise as they latch on, the sound dissolving into an uncertain but pleasured warble in his throat. “Ohh,” he breathes. “Mmm …”

Steve smiles. Really, they’re for use on any erogenous zone or pressure point. More often than not, he’ll use them for gland stimulation on his younger patients who aren’t yet cleared for sexual touch therapies. But they work just as well on the chest or genitals. The suction keeps them sealed to Bucky’s skin, sticking straight out like little rubber knobs.

Bucky moans and squirms as his nipples are slowly pulled into the pressure, whispering a tiny little “ohhffuck,” under his breath.

“That'a'boy,” Steve hums. He goes back to rubbing his tummy, thumbs dipping just below the plastic waistband of the diaper to dig in at either side of his pelvis. If he angles it just right, he can get at the glands that’re hidden under the muscle there. Bucky’s still making pleasured noises of confusion at the pressure on his chest and how good it feels. “This is normal. Your body’s extra sensitive from the enema,” Steve reminds him, because the poor kid is definitely too far in his head to remember that right now. Steve frees up one hand to nudge and flick at the suckers, intensifying the sensation, and Bucky sobs,

“Ungh, noooo. Oh god. I have’ta, have’ta … nngh.” He pulls against his restraints, shoving his crotch forward. “S-steve, I can’t. I’m gonna.”

“It’s okay. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay, bub.” Steve hasn't missed how he’s been licking compulsively at his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it, over and over, stimming to satisfy his body’s natural reflex. Maybe it’s time he had something in his mouth. Steve hadn't thought to pick out a gag, but there is a jar of PheroGel sitting in the pile of things he’d hastily grabbed for this session. He pulls it over and unscrews the lid. The stuff comes out pearly white and creamy, lewdly similar to the appearance of cum (so of course it sends his mind wandering). He coats two fingers in the stuff and brings them up in front of Bucky’s slack mouth.

Immediately, Bucky reacts. He whimpers and searches out blindly, bumping into Steve’s hand before eagerly drawing him in. “Mmmn.” His lips mold to the shape of Steve’s fingers and suck hard. "Mm, mmph ...”

Steve chuckles lowly at the display. “That’s it,” he murmurs, letting him suck them clean before dipping back into the jar for more. He feeds the fake cum into his mouth with a sense of awe, watching as Bucky’s gorgeous lips shape to his fingers and suck in long, demanding pulls. God, the kid has a pretty mouth, so lush and full. Steve can’t help but to imagine those same lips wrapped around the head of his cock, instead; how wet and red they’d be as Bucky worked hard to pull what he craved out of Steve’s body.

If you were mine, Steve thinks, then changes it to 'when', in his mind. When Bucky is his, Steve’ll jerk off into a cup every day if the omega wants. Save up every bit of his spend that isn’t fucked straight into Bucky’s ass, feed it back to him leisurely whenever he needs or wants it. Maybe fix up a slow-pull sucker tool for him to work at during the day when Steve’s away at his new job.

Because he is getting a new job. Kneeling here in front of Bucky and seeing him like this, Steve has no doubts anymore. He needs to be Bucky’s Alpha. He needs to bring this boy home with him. For good.

Even though Bucky seems to be enjoying the taste of the PheroGel, he eventually turns his face away, forcing Steve’s fingers from his mouth. His lips are shiny from the fake cum and he’s panting harder all of a sudden. “Oh.” His hips jerk and his face goes pink. “Oh, S-steve, I think … I’m gonna …” He shudders and stops breathing, body taught as a bowstring, and for a few long seconds, Steve isn’t sure if he’s wetting or orgasming.

“Ohhgn-shhit.”

An orgasm, Steve concludes, as he slides his hands all over Bucky’s skin and eases him through it. The scent of omega release hits the air, telling him that Bucky’s managed to stimulate his prostate enough to find that deeper level of pleasure. Normally, it’d be impossible without penetration, but the enema must have his insides swollen enough and sensitive enough that he’s been able to achieve it nonetheless.

Steve groans at how fucking hot that is and rubs encouragingly up and down his sides. “Good,” he praises, letting the pleasure he’s feeling come through in his voice. No point in hiding it anymore: He’s aroused as fuck. “That’s so good, Honey. Did you get a release out, there?”

He knows he did, but Bucky’s shaky nod confirms it. “Mm. Mm hm,” he grunts, his hips still making shuddery little movements through the aftershocks. “Oh. Oh no ...” he whispers, freezing up again. That’s when the faint hissing sound comes, and Steve knows he’s lost control of his bladder. He whines and pitches forward, hiding his face in the bend of Steve’s neck and shoulder. “Nnnnhh!”

Steve just holds him and coos a steady stream of supportive nonsense, hushing and comforting him the entire time. He wraps one arm around his waist and worms the other down between his legs, cupping where the warmth is spreading and making the diaper fill out. “Shh,” he soothes, letting Bucky moan and rock into it. He provides pressure with his hand and hugs Bucky tight against him. “Remember what we talked about? This happens. It’s totally normal. Just means you’re feeling relaxed and safe like you should be, right? Thaat’s right. Shhh. Just let go now and enjoy the way it feels. Doesn’t it feel so warm and full?” In his arms, Bucky sobs and nods, and Steve hums in understanding. “I know, bub, I know. Such a relief, huh? That’s okay. Just feel it, just get it alll out. Alpha’s right here.”

Bucky’s sounds of distress lessen to almost nothing the longer it goes on and the longer Steve holds him and tells him that it’s okay and that he should just enjoy it. It still takes him a while to finish wetting. Under Steve’s palm, the padding bulges out to an obscene fullness, and when he keeps up the pressure he’s been providing, Bucky eventually begins making little, aroused huffs again. He grinds against Steve’s hand and works himself up to another orgasm, tipping over the edge when Steve plucks the suckers off his chest.

“Ah!” His cries are shorter and sharper this time—an orgasm, but no release.

Quite predictably, after it's over he gets very sleepy, very fast. It’s been a long morning but a good one, and Steve kisses his forehead when he goes limp, utterly spent. “Good. You did so good, Buck. Let’s get these restraints off, okay?” he whispers, already working away on the cuffs. The fastenings are nothing but Velcro, so it’s only a second until he’s got Bucky free of both the collar and the attached cuffs. He tosses them aside and gathers the omega up in his arms, carrying him off to get cleaned up.

This may be (and hopefully is) Bucky's last day as a Hydra patient, but that doesn't mean he won't have some group classes and therapies left to attend with the other boys in his cohort that afternoon and evening. Steve will just have to find a way to fill his own time, leave Bucky to his schedule, and hang in there while he gets the ball rolling to secure Bucky's release into his custody.

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spotsupstuff · 5 months

Text

Found my two year old BTHB card and mmmm... there are some really good prompts in there and oh would one look at that, I even have fun characters to apply these things to, now

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Anger born of worry - Sparrows and Euros Words: 2161 Warnings: one-sided yelling match, abuse mention, panic attack (?)

It’s like one of her worst nightmares.

They were just talking, her sitting on the floor of his chamber, him looking down at her with his puppet, suspended directly above as he teased her about something stupid. She was laughing at his overblown dramatizations.

Then the lights died. In the *goddamn puppet chamber.*

Sparrows jumps away as the puppet hurls downwards into the floor where she sat, the umbilical arm screeches as emergency brakes stop it from following behind it. He lets out a terrifying mix of a too organic scream and something alien by its technological nature. Her breath quickens and it takes her a second to shake off the shock.

“Caper! Fuck-!” She dives down to the puppet and forces it to sit. It’s stupid heavy, with him unresponsive and the umbilical arm still connected. Danger signs project themselves all over the walls, not helping even *slightly* with calming her down.

Blessedly, the power starts to slowly come back. The puppet jerks against her hands and grabs her arms as he tries to steady himself again. The whole poor thing is shaking.

“Can you speak?” She leans in, trying to urge him on.

“Te-,” he gets interrupted by a horrible garbled noise. Sparrows flinches and he stops.

“Reset the speakers and begin a diagnostic. If reset won’t help send in the Attendants. And above all: stay calm. Got it?” She says, giving the puppet a reassuring squeeze. She’s not entirely sure if the reassurance is more for Euros or her. He nods at her through the trembling. “Good. Now I need you to let me go.”

“W- waaaaitzzz- I-,” he tries to force through the damage, his grip on her tightens.

But she can’t take any of that right now. He may need the comfort as this is the first time he’s had a blackout (she’s memorized his entire history of major failings, specifically those that occurred before she took this position. she knows for a fact that this is the worst he’s ever had so far, no matter the cause), but comfort to the mind does not equal to safety of the body.

“Not now. Let go.” She says in a firmer tone. He hesitates for a second, giving her this look of desperation and *shame* of all things. It just confuses and stresses her out more, dammit! But then he finally lets go and even pulls away from her as if she just scolded him.

That is something to address later though, she decides as she pushes herself off the ground and races to the control panel hidden in the corner of the chamber behind one of the four ladders. Her right hand grips the ladder and the other starts typing away.

The diagnosis comes up on the screen. It lists off all that is wrong. Makes only a note about the blackout in the puppet chamber, which sends a shiver down Sparrows’ spine. That means there’s something worse. It wasn’t just an innocent, even if unusual for a Generation 2, involuntary power reset.

The hearts are fine, but beating faster than their norm. Memory arrays are fine, though reporting heightened activity. Wouldn’t be surprising if the patterns matched for processing events with the logic centres chiefly active, but instead it’s patterns for more basic, animalistic thing. Pain.

Her heart sinks. In sympathy, pity, worry… Saints below she needs to help him.

Next it says that water intake has increased in an effort to cool down the machinery and... flush something out?? That… that is no good. She remembers in the back of her mind her older brother complaining about longer and fiercer rains as of lately. Originally she chalked it up to his usual craziness or typical older brother bullshit of complaining about something that she’s at least in part responsible for to annoy her. Now it seems like she owes Inferno an apology. There’s been something wrong for a good while, much to her dismay.

The scan-through of the diagnostic hiccups in the lab area. It lists a whole *fifth* as unavailable. That’s *insane.*

Sparrows hails an Overseer. Through the console, she quests it to go and scout out the area unavailable to the diagnostic scan and therefore to the internal cameras as well. She needs to know what’s happening.

At first, it lingers. With an apologetic expression she commands it with code to just go. It cannot disobey her as the Mechanic, so it zooms away.

The screen of the control panel switches to the Overseer’s vision. In tense silence, she waits as it makes its way all the way to the labs.

Then the nightmare only worsens…

Through the screen, she sees a cross. It is brilliant, rich royal blue, glowing, seated on an impossibly dark and squishy ball. It looks just like her eyes.

The speakers click from above. Euros calls out to her. She can’t hear him.

The Overseer travels into the actually infected area. Sparrows’ breath quickens, her palms feel clammy. She never expected to actually deal with the Rot, much less in the Iterator she’s fully responsible for.

And this is just the *outer edge* of the infection! Taking a quick glance at the map with the whole zone blacked out- she feels nauseous.

“Sparrows- please listen-”

The Overseer travels deeper. The typical sharp blue light of the labs is so damn dim…

Her right hand is white knuckled from the too strong grip. Her left is shaking uncontrollably and she vaguely feels tears welling up in her eyes from pure fear.

“I can explain! I have a good reason for not-”

Yet deeper, the Overseer dives. The structural damage becomes more apparent. Cut electrical lines zapping the air uselessly, equipment eroded beyond recognition, support pillars looking like someone threw acid at them. She notices multiple sets of Inspector eyes and trapped neuron flies in sticky blue tendrils.

*He has to be in so much pain- Why-?*

The Overseer scouts further. It enters a room so dark that it almost looks like the Void Fluid itself. Except those damn crosses everywhere.

A tendril reaches out for it from the dark. It narrowly dodges, reappearing a good ways away. Instantly, her left hand flies to the console to hail it back. Away. Just anywhere but there in that pit of pus and decay.

“Remember how your mom got badly sick two months ago? It might as well have been you in that state alongside her! You were so deathly worried- I’ve seen you two interact so so many times, I even got to meet her-! She visited me and I got to know her and she’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the honor of meeting!”

She feels like passing out or throwing up.

“I wanted to give you the time to take care of her. And rest some yourself, too. It was just an unfortunate accident during the time that gave a spark to this- I thought I could handle-!”

“You fucking IDIOT!” Three Sparrows has never screeched that loud before. She’s supposed to sound shy, mellow, sweet, kind of permanently sad. Not like a banshee. Not like she’s tearing her own throat apart like now as she whips around to level a whole Iterator with unbridled fury.

Euros actually yanks his puppet out of her reach, the thing curling up in an attempt at defense. Its lovely dark eyes wide with shock. He looks like a kid trying his best to make it through another beating and that breaks her heart somewhere deep down, it does. That is her *dearest companion* she’s chasing into a corner, not some prey animal.

But it doesn’t feel like she’s the one behind the steering wheel of her own body anymore. There is no reason, no consideration- nothing but horrible horrible rage. She spits and growls and her words become interlaced with shameful hisses, full of venom of a terrified animal.

“How are you so moronic! You were literally made to be one of the most intelligent things in this fucking world, yet you manage to be dimmer than a goddamn bolt! Do you even know what that thing is?? That is the Rot!! The one thing that can *KILL* you if it manages to run even a LITTLE rampant. And what did You do???”

“I just-”

“SHUT UP! I forbid you from speaking to me, Caper of Euros! You are allowed to only listen, so you may- HOPEFULLY- learn at least a semblance of a something from this- if I even manage to save you at all!”

He pulls his puppet higher now, to escape her. He stares at her, speechless just as she ordered him to be, with desperate betrayal dancing in his eyes. As if his feelings of that could triumph over her own.

“We agreed that you’d Tell me if *anything,* no matter how small, would go wrong while I’d be away! I TRUSTED you! And you broke that! YOU- You- URHG!” Sparrows clutches at her head in panicked confusion on what to do next, in inability to think straight through the anger and the feeling of being harmed, in worry for his well being. It’s too much.

“You broke *ME!”* She screams at the top of her lungs through her sore throat, the cruel mix of emotions and feelings makes the last word shrill, shaky. So damn ugly.

Euros only looks away and pulls the puppet all the way into the furthest corner of the ceiling from her with a whine of the chamber. It’s far enough that she has trouble making out any of his features.

She could simply take his umbilical cable and pull on it hard enough to force him. She could just order him to come back down without expanding any physical effort at all. Could curse and yell into his face while he’d have no other choice but take it, all the while completely on mute, without any way of defending himself. She could carve this horrible moment into his mind with trauma *deep* enough that he would never be able to rid himself of it, only with a complete wipe.

…instead, her hands slide down her head, gripping far too hard at the stems growing at the sides of her jaw. She pulls on them firmly until the physical pain outweighs the emotional one, until it forces her to finally get grounded and give up the entirety of the disgusting storm inside of her.

With a deep exhale and closed eyes, she lets go.

After holding that position for a few more seconds, she takes a deep breath again and opens her eyes. The chamber has turned impossibly dark almost like during the blackout, obscuring Euros’ puppet completely. It isn’t the darkness of the deep carmine it takes on when he iterates, it’s the kind that she only read about in the reports of his first Mechanic.

The first one wasn’t a good person. Sparrows met her herself, when she came in for her first day fresh out of school. She was a tall one, wrinkles twisting her face into a permanent scowl. Sharp eyes and shoulders, pointy mask. She was too strict without any kindness to soften it, too mean, too biting with her words. Sparrows spent a single day on a tour with her and had enough. Euros has dealt with her for 86 years since the moment he was turned online. Since his most vulnerable days- as a clueless *child.*

The piece of Sparrows that still wishes for nothing else but motherhood recoils in disgust and shame.

For the first time in her decades of service here, she gets treated to Euros’ very own special coping mechanism created because of One abusive bitch. This darkness has been here longer than her life spans out. This hiding place is a scar she reopened and even though her anger and panic are fully justified, she still feels terrible.

Sparrows looks up into the corner where she knows Euros is trying to hide himself from her sight (quite successfully, if it weren't for the glowing umbilical cable he'd be gone. he even disabled his halo). Her brows are still furrowed, but otherwise her features no longer hold rage. Despite the change, he doesn’t move a single piston. She can understand.

Taking a one step backwards, where the exit out of the chamber is, her gaze shifts down to the floor. With a deep breath, she attempts to speak but it comes out uncharacteristically raspy, hurting. She clears her throat, tries to wet it up so she can speak this damn language at all.

Deep inhale. “I forbid you from sending Overseers after me.” Her tone is defeated, unsure of giving out an order like this without the blindness of anger backing her up. She prefers... not to dictate him around. “Or any other piece of yourself, Hivemind.”

“For your own good.” She croaks, turning around and leaving him behind.

#rw #rain world #oc: three sparrows #oc: caper of euros #oc tag #philosophy sessions au #my writing

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