#night dress cutting and stitching

[honeyed-disgraceful]

I'm making mall jorts I am healing

The pockets and the straps are gonna be a massive pain to sew in the right place but this is a battle I'm willing to pick

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Cold-hearted wolf

Pairing: Cregan Stark × Martell reader

Tags: arranged marriage, cregan starts out mean in this, enemies to lovers cus he's grumpy and has no time for feelings,

Chapter 3: the way he's obsessed with you, can't stop thinking impure thoughts while he's away, the calm before the sex... pick your favorite.

Note: I made up a war with Highgarden subplot that's not Canon. Ahem, for the plot, so bare with me.

Cregan Stark sat inside a tent with his face twisted in a mix of pain and discomfort. The maester carefully worked to stitch up a nasty gash that ran from his neck to his lower abdomen, courtesy of an enemy soldier's sword. He had little pity for the other man when he cut him clean through the heart with his own blade. The wound was a battle scar from the successful siege, a strategic victory that had his soldiers celebrating and chearing outside.

One of Cregan's knights entered the tent, bearing two pints. He handed one to his injured ruler. "This ale should ease the pain, my lord."

Cregan took the offered drink. "Bring more. This stitching feels personal."

The old man, still focused on his task, dismissed Cregan's jest. "Your Highness, if you'd stop squirming, it would help."

Cregan held still as the maester continued his work. "How many casualties did we suffer?"

The knight looked thoughtful for a moment. "Surprisingly low, my lord. The plan was exceptional."

Cregan's gaze shifted to the ground, and a sense of guilt crept over him. The plan that had proven so effective during the battle was one that you had worked on together. Right before he rudely discarded you. Your tactical insights and knowledge of warfare had been instrumental to saving his and his men's lives today. "I should have listened to her sooner.”

“My lord?”

“Lady y/n.” Cregan specified.

The knight nodded in understanding.

The maester stitching spoke up. “It takes time to see the wisdom in others, my lord. We can only strive to make amends."

Cregan hated being proven wrong. He kept his mouth shut.

As the stitching neared completion, the knight spoke up, "You've fought well today.”

Cregan shook his head with a satisfied smile. "I can't take all the credit. Tyrell's sword was his own downfall.” His enemy's weapon, though notoriously giant, was unwieldy, and Cregan, younger, more agile, and more practiced with his weapon, found his opening.

With the gash stitched and the pain somewhat subsiding, Cregan took another sip of ale. He couldn't help but feel a need to have you close. To celebrate with you, and thank you for your strategy, which was invaluable to his cause. He wanted you beside him in the next council meeting.

But you were far off, warm, and safe in Winterfell. No doubt giving his sister an earful about what an awful husband he's been if the letters he's received from her were any indication.

I like her very much, Cregan. And if you open your mind you would come to like her too. Also, it would help if you'd stop behaving like an ass.

The thought of you two getting along made him smile. Even if it was at his expense.

He was ashamed to admit there was truth to your accusation that night. No, he had not seen you as an equal. How could he?

What could you possibly know of the plight of living in the harsh and unforgiving environment of the North. Of its values and way of life. He'd read about Dornish life in his studies. Sunspear was warmth, music, dancing, and hedonism, literally the opposite of Winterfell. This showed to be true the moment you stepped foot on his grounds. You, with your carefree attitude and enticing dresses, perhaps accepted in your culture, but downright scandalous in his.

He remembered his anger in the hot springs when he heard the men going on about your wardrobe.

“I'd like to see if the Dornish sun forgot a few places.”

They were only jesting. Men, especially soldiers, made vulgar jokes all the time. But the fact that his men spoke about you in such a way made his blood boil hotter than the springs underneath the palace grounds.

All it took was a look from Cregan, and the man shut his mouth, swallowing nervously. But Cregan's anger didn't subside so easily.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, remembering taking his frustration out in your bedroom that same day he heard the vulgar comment, and the two more times that evening, and once more the next morning. His hands gripped his chair, mimicking the possessive way he'd held you with every thrust.

He wondered if you questioned why he was so upset. Although even if you did, judging by your whimpers and moans, you didn't seem to mind.

He laughed. Maybe his sister was right. Stubbornness was something you two definitely had in common.

Visions of you flooded his mind. Walking around with a high brow, flaunting your skin freely with seductive silks for his court to admire. Looking elegant and graceful while flipping him onto his back in the training yard. Unknowingly offering up a fantasy of an exotic warrior princess from the far south to hungry and repressed northern eyes… all just so you could prove a point.

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

War was a lonely ordeal. And despite the women from the neighboring towns being more than happy to keep his men company, Cregan’s mind kept finding flaws in each of them.

Their lack of quiet defiance made them too agreeable, he decided. Although, no, not only that. It was also the missing fire in their eyes, the missing pride. They also had the wrong color hair and the wrong length, too. And on top of that, their clothing was also too... cold, yes. Too modest.

The gods help him. He was fucked.

Amidst the noise of his tent, he sat at a table surrounded by his men who were drinking and celebrating. The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance in the night. A raven's message had arrived, and he quickly sloppily unfurled the parchment, his eyes scanning the words eagerly.

The letter was from you, recounting the events of the day. "In an attempt to offer you a change of scenery, I will try to paint an image of how things are back home.” Your handwriting said. “Winterfell is alight with celebration of your victory. The town square was full of life. The common folks greeted me with glee and danced and sang. I even tried deer meat at an inn. It was… chewey."

A corner of his mouth lifted as he red the letter in your voice.

"You are well loved and admired, my lord. And missed. Also, please pet Grey for me as he is dearly missed as well."

A chuckle escaped Cregan's lips as he reached over to scratch his loyal dog behind the ear before continuing to read. "I even showed one boy how to use my Dornish blade. My favorite one."

Your willingness to connect with his people - your people, he corrected himself, was quite marvelous. A smile tugged at the corners of Cregan's lips as he pictured you among the celebrating townsfolk. He felt a painful pull at his chest, his hands itching for your skin.

He wondered, not for the first time, how he could remedy his actions of your last night together before he marched off. Regretfully recalling the fire and hurt in your eyes.

It would take more than a letter to make up for it. Cregan was neither poet nor a man of many words. He took action. He needed to fix this the only way he knew how.

The next day, he helped his squires and men pack the Stark army camp. With victory secured, they would be marching back to Winterfell.

Cregan was coming home.

@malfoycassimalfoy @leahnicole1219 @literishdegree99

[annievrse]

joyride

chuuya x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: you and chuuya go for a drive w/c: 1.2k c/w: suggestive [mdni], reader gets called wife & good girl heh a/n: obvi inspired by kesha's joyride

“We're going for a drive.”

Chuuya gives you no room to decline as he unlocks the car Mori provided for the mission and slides into the driver's seat. You stand staring at the red car. Of course, it's red. A red Ferrari, at that. You roll your eyes at the unsubtly and open the passenger's door.

The mission was tough, and you assume Chuuya needs to drive the anger out of his system. Usually, you wouldn't encourage such destructive behaviour, but you can't help the giddy feeling rising in your chest when your boyfriend drives.

The 812 purrs to life, and Chuuya grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He'd slid his coat and gloves off before you got in, sitting in his crisp white dress shirt. You inhale deeply, reaching over to slip his hat off his head. Orange locks fall free and frame his face. You place the hat in your lap and thread your fingers through his hair. Chuuya says nothing, but you know he appreciates the affection.

As industrial streets slimmed into the flat countryside, paddocks stretched like a midnight quilt stitched together with wire fences. The moon provides little light behind the clouds as the road fades into the night, and the reflective broken lines fly by in flashes. Driving on country roads at this speed is stupid and dangerous, but you feel like you are flying; it is almost freeing. Besides, when Chuuya drives, you feel at ease. You trust him more than yourself, especially with the addition of Upon the Tainted Sorrow.

The car is warm despite the cool air conditioning, and you squirm in your seat. Chuuya accelerates when he passes the final car on the stretch of the road. Natural gravity forces you back into your chair, your stomach rolling with adrenaline and fear. You can't look over at Chuuya, so you stare straight ahead with a smile etched on your cheeks. 

You are hyperaware of Chuuya's movements. He changes gears fluidly and turns corners smoothly; you can't help but admire his handiwork. You glance at the odometer, reading 160 on the dial, and your stomach lurches. Silhouettes of trees pass like ghosts, and your hands sweat where they rest on his hat. You were never good with being in fast cars, but having a boyfriend and a best friend who loves being behind the wheel was something you had to digest quickly. 

“You good?” Chuuya's breathless voice cuts through the thick air. Your head turns toward him. You try not to speak while he drives this fast, 125mph. Instead, you nod.

“Use your words, I can’t look at you.” His eyes remain on the dark road. You tongue the inside of your cheek, a smirk on your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m okay," You sigh. Your stomach churns as the road curves, and your hands are firm on your legs. 

Chuuya shakes his head and paws at your thigh quickly before he places it back on the gear stick. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and you look over at him. He's so devilishly handsome that you feel you may sin if you dare to look at him, even after all this time. Strands of red hair fall lazily over his forehead and blow softly in the air conditioning.

As Chuuya turns a corner faster than recommended, you quickly lift his hat and fit it over your head.

"You're gonna kill me," Chuuya mumbles, sparing a glance in your direction. His cheeks are rosy, even in the midnight light. Your eyes flicker to his full and pouty lips, the shade of rich wine, and then to his lean biceps strained against his white dress shirt as he straightens his arms to stretch out. "Definitely gonna be my wife."

Your face feels like fire at his muttered words, and you whine in response. "Stop teasing."

"You stop teasing," Chuuya mutters. "Makin' me hard."

Your skin gets impossibly hotter. "You're crazy."

He scoffs and turns his head to look at you. The car is flying down the road, and you pretend to ignore the red aura of his ability around the vehicle. You meet his gaze, turning your whole body toward him.

"And whose fault's that?"

You shrug. "Dazai."

Chuuya chokes on a surprised laugh, and you smile when he turns his attention back to the road, disgust making his lip curl.

"Don't speak about him when I just told you I'm hard."

Your eyes flicker to the strained fabric of his black slacks.

"I'm not giving you head when you're going 200mph."

Chuuya rolls his eyes and uses his right hand to fix his crotch. You cover your laugh with your hand and turn to look out the window.

“Home?” Chuuya asks, his voice laced with desperation. The car should be going slower since you entered residential streets, but due to his predicament, you guess he doesn't care.

"Yep."

“Okay," He swallows, running a red light. "We're sleeping in my bed tonight."

You laugh and take his hand when it returns to your lower thigh. “I want the left side.” 

The car finally lurches to a stop at a red traffic light, and Chuuya gives you an incredulous look. “No fucking way, that’s my side. You know that.”

If you hadn't shifted the tone of the conversation, you doubt you'd be sitting at this light. You shrug and place his hand on the gear stick. “Guess I'm sleeping in my bed, then."

You see him roll his eyes in your peripheral as you stare at the traffic light impatiently. Chuuya sighs dramatically, and when you glance over, you see him torn between pouting and glaring. But you remain impartial, nodding forward once when the light turns green. 

“You’re so…” Chuuya trails off, shaking his head and putting his foot down. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips.

“Careful,” You warn playfully, and he shoots you a dark look as the silence thickens with tension. 

“You’re so pretty it hurts, darling,” He clutches his chest. "Especially with my hat on."

You laugh, tipping the brim. "It definitely looks better on you. I don't think it suits me."

Chuuya's expression morphs into a scowl. "Shut the fuck up, or I'll make you."

"Chuuya!" You giggle, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Don't piss me off with that shit talk, alright?"

You purse your lips to suppress a smile. As he puts the car in park, his grey eyes find yours in the dark. His hat sits tilted on your head, and Chuuya doesn't believe he's ever seen anything as beautiful in his life. The feeling makes his chest hurt.

"Alright?" He repeats, but his voice is void of the previous sharp tone.

You lean forward and press your mouth against his. Chuuya's hand slides to your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You pull back and watch through lidded eyes as he chases your lips. After one last peck, Chuuya kisses both of your cheeks and falls back in his seat.

"Good girl."

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 16: Halloween

Steve used to love Halloween.

His mom would always get him any costume he wanted and it made him feel like the coolest kid in school.

When he was six he was a vampire with a beautiful velvet cloak.

When he was eight he was an astronaut and told everyone he'd go to the moon one day.

When he was ten he was a knight and one of the boys in school dressed as a dragon let him pretend to defeat him.

When he was twelve he was prince charming and wore a glittering crown, but it was the last time his mom took him trick or treating.

When he was fourteen he didn't mind because he and Tommy got to go by themselves dressed as zombies and chased everyone they saw.

When he was sixteen he stopped liking Halloween, it was bullshit anyway.

When he was eighteen he spent the night watching movies with Robin but stopped the scary ones after they saw a kid dressed as a sailor at the door.

Now he is nineteen and he has Eddie.

Eddie always loved Halloween.

He didn't have the best costumes but he made do. Free candy was more food than he'd get most weeks so he made sure it lasted.

When he was six his mom helped cut holes in a sheet and called him her little ghost.

When he was eight he wrapped himself in toilet paper once his dad was passed out and couldn't yell at him for wasting it.

When he was ten his uncle stitched fabric from the thrift store and made him big green dragon wings, he'd wear them the following year too.

When he was twelve the drama department let him keep his lion costume from the play to use for Halloween.

When he was fourteen he dressed as a rockstar and told all his friends they'd be famous one day.

When he was sixteen he spent more time selling at parties than dressing up.

When he was eighteen he got drunk and tried not to think about how he had to repeat all this bullshit again.

Now he is twenty.

He's twenty and he has a beautiful boyfriend who doesn't have the best memories of Halloween. A broken childhood like his, different but still the same.

He pulls those old dragon wings out of the closet and clips a chestplate to his personal knight in shining armor.

"Are there any stories where the knight saves the dragon instead of defeating him?"

"Yeah, but you already wrote it, sweetheart."

[the-californicationist]

Hiii

First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖

Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶

Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌

Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?

Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥

Thank you a loooot. (*＾3＾）/～♡

Do No Harm

After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.

AO3 Link

TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play

When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 

“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 

“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 

You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 

The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 

You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 

He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 

It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 

“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 

You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 

“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 

You smiled down at him, joking around,

“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 

“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”

“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 

You pitied him, winking cheekily, 

“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”

His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 

You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 

He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 

You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 

Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 

You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 

You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 

You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?

You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 

“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”

“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”

“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”

“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 

But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 

“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”

“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 

“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”

He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 

“You want me to stop? Hm?”

The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 

Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 

“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”

“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”

“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 

In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 

You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 

“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 

Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 

The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 

You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 

Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 

As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 

You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 

You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 

Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 

“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”

You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 

“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”

All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 

“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.

You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 

He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 

Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 

He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 

“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”

He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 

You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 

He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 

You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 

“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”

You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 

“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”

“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 

“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 

Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.

[superstarcherrycolagirl]

i might as well be drunk in love

“slut!” by taylor swift

benny cross x fem!reader / 1.4k words

idea: you’re drunk, and benny takes care of you after a long night out

tw: drinking, swearing, so fluffy it’s sickening

notes: this is my first big piece that I’ve wrote and omg it took FOREVER !! i haven’t been able to stop thinking about “the bikeriders” she literally consumes my every waking thought AHH !! anyway i hope you guys enjoy reading this:))

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it’s just about 4 in the morning and you and benny just made it back home to your place. you’d been so busy this week due to picking up more shifts at the library so you would be able to pay off the rent by the end of the month, groceries, and afford to buy a little more thread to stitch up a pair of your jeans and the large tear on bennys jacket. not only was that stressful, but throughout the week you had to deal with some grouchy elderly women, preverted college boys (‘pinkos’ as zipco would call them), and multiple groups of chaotic elementary school students who were checking out their books for the semester, and only to have a slice of toast, scorching hot coffee with no milk OR sugar, and fucking prayer holding you together. so yes, this night out was a well deserved one. but who’s kidding? you needed that shit! now here you are, barely getting up the stairs to your apartment as benny holds onto you for dear life.

as you both stood outside of your apartment door, benny began digging for his copy of keys in his pocket while leaning you up against his side and adjusting his hold on your hip. he draped his jacket over you before you hopped onto his bike to head home, leaving him in his tattered sleeveless black shirt against the cold chicago air.

“sorry baby, turns out the key were in the other po-“ “y’arms are so pretty honey.. like-i like how they feel ‘round me” you cut him off with slurred words as you drunkenly gazed up at him.

“can’t believe i get to see them all t’time, for m’self, a-and nobody else gets ta have ‘em but me.. a’like when they hold me when it’s real cold..o-or hot.. or ‘round the pillows or the flowers ya get me.. or when ya’ cuddlin’ lula.. oh i hope she’s not t’cold, v’missed her so much.. she’s probably sad that her mama and daddy were gone all night-“ at this point benny could only chuckle as his girl jumped from talking about his arms to their sweet black cat lula, it made his heart swell.

once he got you into your apartment he began walking you straight towards your bed, as your giggles and drunk thoughts echoed down the hallway “no b-benny i don’t wanna t’sleep yet, i wanna watch t’bakin’ show on channel 6, they be makin some.. some of them valen..tines treats a-and i wanna try” you began to whine as benny sat you down at the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you as he begins unbuckling the straps of your red kitten heels “yeah we can watch some baby, d’worry, jus’ wanna getcha out of these ‘nd this dress” “thought ‘ya liked me in this dress? grabbed these heels to match with em’” you said sadly, your eyes starting to droop.

benny looked up at you and could see the slight pout on your face, so he moved his left hand to caress your thigh “oh y’know i love this dress, but that tiny little nightie a’yours, that pretty pink flower in the middle that barely covers you up, takes the cake for me” he says as he moves closer to you “re-eally?” “yeah baby, she’s m’favorite” his voice gets muffled as he places some kisses on the tops of your thighs, still looking right back up at your sleepy eyes “but i love everythin’ that you wear.. especially when you wear nothing” he says with a smirk on his face, and had stopped your whining and shut you up instantly.

after getting your heels off benny helps you stand up to start taking off your clothes. the jacket was first to go, as he tossed it on top of your vanity chair. he then pushed the straps of your red gingham dress down which slowly began to fall to the floor. you were left in the dainty lingerie set you’d picked out for the night; the blush pink fabric with the lacy details matching the drunken flush on your face. benny takes his time to get a look at you, rubbing his callused hands up and down your sides. he knows that all the shifts you’ve picked up and the deadlines of payments have been making you stressed, so he just wants to take care of you tonight, although it won’t come close to repay you for all the sacrifices you make for him.

after benny unclasped your bra, he swiftly moved to your side of the bed and grabbed your linen night gown “arms up for me baby” you obliged, sleepily raising your arms above your head you momentarily close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. but you felt something else. something running along your legs. was that fuzz? you didn’t wear socks with your heels tonight and benny already tossed your dress into the laundry bin. you were stumped until you heard a rumbling sound from beneath you. purring.

“oh lula! l-look honey s’lula! she’s purring up ‘gainst me!!” you gleamed to benny, as he too was receiving affection from lula. “she’s happy that her mama and daddy are back home, right honey? home?” benny ever so slightly teased, but out of love of his girls’ adorable rambles. “yeah. home” you said with a smile. now after changing benny walks you over to your side of the bed. he sat you down facing him, but paused briefly as he realized he forgot to take some of your jewelry off.

“one second mama, forgot to get this necklace and these hoops off, i know you sleepy but i’ll be quick” he said, quickly and gently taking them off “i told ya’ i ain’t sleepy.. gotta.. we gotta still watch our show ‘member?” “y’right baby, our show” a chuckle left his mouth; of course he remembered, but he wanted you to take the credit for remembering about it as you were fighting to stay awake. “what would i do without you baby? hmm?” “d’know ben-baby, but don’t worry, y.. ya’ have me” “and you have me baby. m’sweet baby” benny’s words became muffled as he held your jaw and kissed you deeply before placing your jewlery down on the nightstand. you were finally lying down after benny got you comfortable. he then quickly stripped down to his boxers and swapped his black shirt for a white wifebeater before joining you in bed.

just by looking at you he could tell that you were barely awake, but sticking to his word, he turned the tv onto channel 6, as clips of a dessert with chocolate and some kind of fruit in it come across the screen. strawberries? or raspberries? hell, cherries? he could not tell.

as the sounds of the baking show filled the room benny shifted you closer to him, so you could rest on his chest. “did you have a good time tonight baby? i know you’ve been excited about this meeting all week” he asked you softly. you let yourself finally close your eyes, knowing that it was okay to rest now “s’so fun.. ears are ringin’ a lil.. but had so fun with t’girls, and t’club,” benny notices that your sentences are making less sense as you are just moments away from knocking out, but he was able to make out one coherent sentence of yours before that “but i had t’most fun with ya’ tonight.. ya’ lit up m’whole night honey” seconds away from slipping into your own dream land, he had to admit, you saying that so effortlessly made his breath hitch in his throat. he didn’t have a care for anything outside the club until he met you, and you have completely flipped his life upside down because of it. it gave him meaning to ride home late at night knowing he was coming back home to you. it gave him purpose to always come back to you, regardless of what’s going on through his mind. you are there for him, you are there to care for him, laugh with him, cry with him, and to just love him for the person he is. you are there for him. you are it for him “and you light up my life baby, my light”

he reaches his hand over to turn off the little lamp on his side of the bed and when he turned his head back to look at you, you were fast asleep; soft snores leaving your mouth. he could only smile, knowing that you can get the deserved rest you’ve needed “love you so much sweet girl, with my whole heart” he kisses the top of your head as lula leaps onto the bed to join her mama and daddy for cuddles.

peace and quiet at last.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Two is Better than One || The Orgy

Part 4 of The Orgy

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

warnings : Mommy/Daddy kink, oral sex, anal sex, pillow riding, plug usage, strap-ons, swearing, dirty talk (degrading)

The cameras flashed with every move she made. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was flawless. Her suit was impeccably made. It fits every curve, toned muscle, and pound of flesh she had, not a single stitch out of place. She was La Reina of course, perfect in every shape and form.

The beige complimented her skin beautifully, her confidence allowed for nothing underneath to look so elegant and poise. She smiled like she owned the place, the cries for her to look a certain direction normally bubbled her anxiety but tonight she was feeling herself.

Down at the other end of the red carpet stood another blonde who knew she was gorgeous. Her tie sat on her chest in a perfect knot, her shirt was pressed and her pants had the perfect crease down the front. The black and white brought out the color of her hair and her mesmerizing eyes. She sauntered in with full confidence, shoulders back and chin up for all the photos she knew would have her best side. She looked over and saw the Spaniard at the end, talking to the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

The girl had on the most beautiful emerald dress that showed off her curves, the thin straps and satin material brought out the beautiful blues and greens in her eyes. The gold necklace and accessories around her wrists rang through the sound of flashes going off. Leah made a beeline towards you, tapping the Spaniard on the shoulder and greeting her politely. You smiled and handed her a mic as well, slipping into the perfect segway of the World Cup final.

Nothing beats a story about the final straight from the captains themselves. This was a promising story and you had the privilege to be the one to write it. The two captains enjoyed the rivalry that had been quite light over the years but there was evidence of a lot of maturity between them and the admiration they both had for each other was very apparent.

Leah explains how the game only motivated the girls to play harder and work harder. Seeing it from the stands and knowing what Alexia had gone through was something that Alexia echoed when asked what it was like playing the Lionesses and not having Leah on the pitch battling it out.

The two made their way into the auditorium, parting ways a little more starstruck than when they set foot on the carpet, the image of you was one that both captains had running around in their minds that night.

Leah approached the bar and asked for a whiskey sour, standing at a cocktail table drumming her fingers on the table while her head bobbed to the music. She sips the last bits of her drink when the smell of your perfume enters her orbit. You had walked behind her towards the bar, a big smile on your face as you sipped the margarita that appeared in front of you a little too quickly.

Leah took a deep breath and walked up to you, handing her an empty whiskey crystal glass and asking for another. You smiled at her and minded your business, not wanting to talk to her more than you needed to, being a journalist and all. Leah surprised you though, leaning on her arm as she stirred her drink.

“I loved doing that interview with you, by the way, Y/N.”

“Oh, I appreciated your time, I’ll make sure to use all the best parts in the final cut!” you thanked her, sipping on your drink nervously. The English woman carried herself well and towered over you a little, smirking a little too smugly at you.

“Are you here with anyone?” Leah asked forwardly, the two double shots of whiskey drinks on an empty stomach already gave her a little buzz.  

A little taken aback and flattered by her line of questioning, Leah was happy to see you shake your head. You were about to ask her the same when the slightly more intimidating captain appeared behind you and asked for a rum and coke in the sexiest accent you had grown to love.

“Hola, Y/N. Leah,” Alexia acknowledged, taking her drink from the bartender with a quiet “gracias,” at the end before she sauntered off back to her friends.

“She knows your name,” Leah said, pointing out that her tone suggested that she knew you before the red carpet interview. Leah was a little disappointed that she had never seen you till tonight, let alone know your name.

“I work for Barça, I’m their sports writer,” you explained, finishing your drinking and asking for water.

Just as Leah’s about to ask you more about your job, your producer texts you that the star guest, Aitana Bonmati just arrived and you need to interview her. The latest Ballon d’Or winner was your last interview before you could clock out and enjoy the party so you make sure to tell Leah that you wanted to talk to her and take up her time.

“She’s my last interview, have an extra strong marg waiting for me?” you tell her and run off, smiling when you hear her stutter her agreement. Leah smirks and turns to the bartender, “You heard the woman, have a marg ready when she’s headed over here again, yeah?”

Over at the Spain delegate table, Alexia had been chewing on the little stirrer in her glass, eyes dark and staring so hard, Marta was sure there would be lasers coming out of her hazel eyes if she put her mind to it.

“Are you trying to kill her, Reina?”

Alexia snapped out of her angered trance and brushed off her co-captain, annoyed that her attempt at wishing for Leah’s downfall was interrupted.

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Ale, if looks could kill about half the room would be dead. You’ve death-stared everyone she’s talked to.”

“How do you–”

“You’re not as subtle as you think, capi. Go get yourself another drink and wait for her at the bar.”

Alexia huffed and stood, readjusting her jacket before walking to the bar. She stares at Leah sitting there, immediately deciding to occupy the seat you were in before you left. Just as she’s about to lift herself into the barstool, Leah pipes up and what she says tips her anger past its boiling point.

“Someone’s in that seat,” Leah provides, looking at the Spain captain with a smile.

“And who might that be?” Alexia asks, albeit a little roughly.

“Your new sports writer, Y/N. She’s asked me to save her the seat.”

“Well, I’ll wait for her too then.”

“Do you need to have everything I have a chance at, Putellas?”

“Please, the better team won that day. And it wasn’t England.”

“You fucking–”

“Hola capi!”

Both their heads whip around and look at you, your big smile making both of their anger dissipate. The bartender listened and had a fresh margarita waiting for you like you requested and Leah smiled as she pushed it towards you. Alexia helped you into your seat and Leah glared at her. You were starting to get a hint of what was going on, feeling a little proud of yourself.

“What were you girls arguing about hm?” you ask innocently, raising your strong drink to your lips. Leah and Alexia nursed their drinks and didn’t answer you before the Spaniard mumbled something in Catalan. You understood the language and giggled, replying to her snarky remark. Alexia laughed and added to it, making you laugh a little harder. The English woman on your right had her eyebrows crossed, a look of pure annoyance on her face.

“I-I made sure he made your drink strong, did he make it right?” she interjected, reaching for your chair to swivel you to face her. You take a long, flirty sip and smile, nodding your head.

“It’s perfect Leah, gracias,” you compliment, rubbing her arm. You feel the ripple of her muscles under her jacket and realize that she’s flexing on purpose, making a conscious effort to feel around a little more.

“Did you make sure no one stole my seat while I was gone?” you ask cheekily, knowing that Ale probably came up here and tried to take your seat.

“She did but I made sure it was kept safe for you, princess,” 

A dark blush creeps up her neck and Leah decides then and there that she wants to keep your neck that shade of red with all her bites when the annoyed Spaniard interjected and spun you back around towards her.

“¿Qué trato tienes con ella?”

"¿Por qué Ale, estás celoso capitán?"

“¿Te estás olvidando de quién perteneces, princesa?”

"Mm, papi, ¿no podemos agregarla a la lista de cosas bonitas que colecciono?"

“¿Es eso lo que quieres, niña bonita?”

"Sí, papi, la quiero tanto" you beg, pulling your best puppy eyes that are guaranteed to make Alexia fold. It does the trick and she nods, swigging down the last of her drink and standing. She steps towards Leah and adjusts her jacket, smirking a little.

“Williamson. Come with me a second.” 

Leah scoffs and stands, following the Spaniard to a quieter side of the room.

“What, Putellas?”

“She has requested for you to join us in our room tonight.”

Leah can’t believe her ears. She blinks a few times and asks the two-time Ballon d’Or winner to repeat herself.

“She wants to fuck you, Williamson. You want her, don’t you?”

“You two a thing?”

“A thing of convenience, yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, quite the opposite.”

“Good. We’re in room 116, meet us there in fifteen minutes.”

Alexia leaves with you on her arm, a little drunken smirk on your face. Leah walks back over to the bar and asks for a cold glass of water. She chugs it all and waits ten minutes before she walks over to the elevators. Her hands sweat a little, and she’s nervous. She stands in front of room 116, hesitant to knock. Just as her right hand gets the courage the door opens and it startles her but your welcoming face calms her racing heart.

 “Come in, you’re right on time!”

You walk in behind her and Leah gawks at the bed and all the stuff on it. There were more toys there than she had at home, harnesses that looked custom-made, and dildos that looked hard to take. Alexia sat in the meeting chair near the window, leg crossed and arms on the rests. Leah stands a little intimidated before you sit in Ale’s lap and look mesmerizing under the tinted orange lights.

“Welcome Williamson, I’m surprised you didn’t chicken out,” Alexia teases and you smack her arm, leaving Leah to cover her chuckles with a few unconvincing coughs.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Putellas.”

“Play nice the two of you or you’re not fucking me.”  

Alexia sighs and regroups, taking a deep breath.

“Leah, welcome. I’ve got a few rules that we use to make this enjoyable. Would you like to say your safeword, amor?”

“Strawberry,” you answer obediently, snuggling back into Alexia’s arms.

“Mine is Apple,” Alexia tells Leah before Leah decides to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed.

“Watermelon,” Leah supplies, leaning forward on her elbows. She smiles, watching your eyes sparkle as she winks at you.

Alexia gets a little annoyed but keeps talking. Her hand around your waist tightens and you lean into her more, green dress a little creased where her hands feel you.

“You will do as I say when I say it, no arguments understand.”

Leah was about to answer her but you piped up with a voice so soft and subtle that it sent shivers down Leah’s spine.

“Yes Daddy,” you whispered to Alexia, standing up and sauntering over to the side of the bed. Leah smiles and watches you, and you smile, seeing both the captain’s eyes on you.

“Mind if you help me take this stunning dress off Mommy?” you ask Leah, watching as her eyes go dark when you use that name on her. Leah nods, walking over to you and helping you unzip your dress. You smile at Alexia and watch her fiddle with her jacket, knowing she’s already feeling hot inside.

“May I?” Leah asks you, pushing the emerald material off your shoulders. You smile and nod, feeling the English skipper’s hand take in all your curves and edges. Leah leans in and kisses along your shoulders and back, whispering how beautiful you looked in that dress and how she longed to see it on the floor in a pile next to her clothes.

Alexia stands in front of you and tilts your head up, eyes boring deep into yours. She smiled kindly, leaning in and pecking your lips. You kiss her back and Leah takes the opportunity to mark your neck up how she wanted to earlier. You moan into Alexia’s mouth and smile against her lips, reaching your arm behind to cradle her head.

Alexia pulls away from you and you step to the side as Leah crashes her lips on Alexia’s. Alexia grabs her face and kisses her back hard, moaning into Leah’s mouth. You stand and watch, biting your lip and rubbing your thighs together. You’ve slipped your underwear off and unclasped your bra, climbing onto the bed how Alexia liked. Leah pushes the Spaniard’s jacket off as hers comes off too, hands in pants struggling to get each other naked fast enough. Hands roam and explore, muscles taut and on display for you to feast your eyes on.

When the two of them finally pull away, you’re on your knees and smirking, holding Alexia’s strap in your hands. She smiles and takes it from you, Leah helping her put it on. There’s a dramatic shift in power in the room, with you and Leah taking a more submissive role as Alexia takes control.

Leah gets on her knees beside you just as Alexia gives her her first command of the night.

“Lay on your back Leah, wanna use your mouth.”

The tingle that sentence sends down Leah’s legs was one that she hoped happened every time Alexia shoved her cock down her throat. Leah did as she said, laying on the bed with her head at the edge. Alexia caressed her cheek and smiled, kissing her lips briefly. Leah sat between your legs, a little buttplug in her hands that you didn’t know was coming.

Alexia’s cock sat on Leah’s face as she caressed her chest. Leah’s nipples perked at her touch, the cold room keeping them rock hard. Leah moaned and smiled, licking up the silicone as the blood in her body slowly rushed to her head.

Alexia stood tall and pressed her cock to Leah’s lips, watching her face get more and more red. Alexia’s hips fuck into her mouth slowly, hands holding her head steady. You, on the other hand, pushed Leah’s legs wide open to play with her wet folds. Leah’s dripping, feeling your fingers play with her clit and ass.  

Alexia gently wrapped a hand around Leah’s neck, feeling the cock bulge in her throat. Your fingers slipped into Leah’s pussy and she moans, the vibrations sent around Alexia’s cock and she felt it in her palm. Alexia smiles and chuckles, slapping her breast a few times before speeding up her hips. You sucked on the buttplug and Alexia watched, eyes hooded and lips already red and bitten from concentration. She pulls out and spits into her open mouth messily just as you slip the plug into Leah, hearing her moan and pant in pleasure. 

Leah scoots up and feels the blood from her head distribute properly, the plug inside her settles just right and she looks up at you with a smirk. She licks Alexia’s spit from all over her mouth and makes sure to keep her eyes on Alexia.

“I wasn’t expecting that but I am so fucking thankful I said yes.”

“Ready for more, Mami?”

“Fuck yes,” Leah pants, turning over and waiting for Alexia to give her further instructions. Alexia smirks, hand reaching for your face and kissing you hard. Leah watches, eyes bouncing between you and Alexia. She takes your breast in her mouth, sucking noisily as you lay down for Alexia.

“Open those pretty legs for me, mi amor,” Alexia asks, and Leah latches off your breast with a loud pop. Your legs open wide and you’re soaked, pussy glistening for Alexia to enjoy. She swipes her fingers through your folds and licks her fingers clean, both you and Leah watching her in awe.

Alexia looks at Leah and she feels immediate obedience fall over her, ready to do her every wish.

“I want you to ride her face while I fuck her pretty pussy. And when I say ride her face, I mean use her like the fucking whore deserves to be used. Got it?”

“Yes Daddy,” Leah replies easily, the title sending pleasure through all your veins. Leah settles on top of you and lowers herself onto your mouth, hands gripping your hair as she grinds down on your tongue. Alexia pushes your legs back as wide as they can and thrusts her hips forward for her cock to effortlessly slide into your pussy. Leah moans when you start sucking on her clit, your hands massaging the plug in her ass gently as you sucked.

Alexia watched you and Leah closely, hips pounding into your hole hard. She almost bent you in half, legs wide open which only helped her cock into your pussy deeper. Leah slipped off your face and turned around to face Alexia, leaning forward with her hands gripping Alexia’s big ones as she ground a little harder on your tongue. Alexia held her steady and kissed her roughly, moaning into Leah’s mouth. You spanked Leah’s ass and fucked it with the plug inside her, feeling her hole clenching on your tongue that you just slipped in. Alexia leaned back and you cried out for her to fuck into you faster, eyes rolling into your head as you struggled to focus on eating Leah out while Alexia fucked your brains out.

Leah was close too, thighs shaking as your skillful tongue suckled and flicked over her sensitive clit. Alexia fondled your clit with her rough hands, angling her hips up into your sweet spot to push you towards the edge. You pulled the plug inside Leah out and that was more than enough stimulation for her to come, orgasm ripping through her hard. She shuddered and moaned your name alongside Alexia’s, collapsing off of you and panting hard. Alexia grinned and simply pulled out, turned you onto your knees, and pushed her big cock back into you. You moaned and cried out for her, feeling your arms get pulled behind your back.

Alexia held you down and pounded into you, lips muttering dirty things into your ear to spur you on.

“You take it so well, amor. Can’t wait to see Leah on the end of my cock when I’m done with you hm? You wanna come all over it and make her taste how much of a good girl you are for me?”

“Yes Daddy!” you scream, coming hard and all over her cock. Alexia ruts into you despite your cries of sensitivity, pulling out only when she knew she’d leave you shuddering for a good thirty seconds afterward. Alexia kisses you and holds you as you settle, kissing your damp hair gently.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Leah compliments, the stars in her eyes tell Alexia that she’s more than ready to take her cock.

"Ven aquí, cariño,” Alexia beckoned, Leah crawled over and kissed Alexia’s neck slowly going lower and lower. Soon she was face to face with her wet cock and Leah immediately took it in her mouth, tasting you all over it. Leah moaned, eyes locked with Alexia’s who looked almost feral.

She studied her expressions and smirked a little menacingly, eyes dark and lust-driven. You sat obediently by her side, watching Leah suck Alexia’s cock and taste you on it.

“Doesn’t she taste like magic, cariño?”

“Yes Daddy, she does,” Leah answers, kissing the tip before kissing Alexia passionately. Alexia tastes you on her lips and you can see their tongues fight for dominance, the exchange of your taste turns you on immensely.

Alexia settles in behind Leah and smiles at you. She caresses down Leah's toned defender thighs, knowing exactly where Leah could feel Alexia’s cock on her. Alexia kissed her shoulder and neck, whispering in her ear only for Leah to hear.

“Want me to fuck your ass, cariño? Did she get you nice and loose for me?”

“Yes Daddy, please fuck my ass,” Leah begged, feeling a shiver run down her spine. Leah bends forward onto her elbows, pushing her ass out for Alexia. Alexia leans in and spanks her hard, kneading the defender’s meaty ass. She looks over at you and chuckles, seeing your thighs rub harder together as you refrain from touching yourself without her permission.

“Need something, amor?”

“Wanna feel good Daddy, please…”

“Hmm, but I’m fucking our guest amor, I can’t do you both,” Alexia points out matter-of-factly as if Leah wasn’t even there. And boy did that turn her on.

“Please Daddy, it hurts…” you say, hips grinding down on the bed when Alexia gets an idea.

“You wanna show your latest collection how good you are at riding, amor? Want to grind that gorgeous pussy on a pillow and show her how you make yourself come?”

“Yes, yes please Daddy, I’ll show her how good I am for you,” you tell her and grab a soft duck feather pillow and straddle it, grinding your hips gently for Leah and Alexia.

Leah watches you through hooded eyes and a melting mind, feeling Alexia’s tongue slip into her ass as her fingers rub soft circles over your swollen clit. You put on a little show, grinding seductively on purpose to show Leah all the tricks up your sleeve.

Leah moans when Alexia’s cock slips into her, feeling the cold lube and thick appendage stretch her wide. Leah grips the sheets but keeps her eye on you, watching your hips ride that pillow expertly. Your face is full of erotic expressions when Alexia chuckles.

“Faster amor, I think our guest loves your little show, don’t you Leah?”

“Y-Yes!” Leah exclaims, feeling Alexia’s hips fuck into her ass harder. Leah’s head droops as she moans in pleasure when a large hand grabs her hair and forces her to look at you riding the pillow.

“Eyes on her, cariño. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Isn’t she just perfect?”

“S-She’s so beautiful, Daddy,” Leah croaks out, feeling Alexia pull her back against her chest and her hand moves from her blonde hair to around her neck. Alexia’s hips smack her ass with a loud clap, echoing through the hotel room.

You can barely hold back anymore, holding the pillow taut and grinding your clit down in a particular way that shoves you head-first into your second orgasm of the night. The sight of the two captains fucking and Alexia’s dominant side on full display was more than enough for you to get so turned on and come so hard your ears were ringing. You almost missed the part where Leah begged and begged Alexia to let her come and make a mess on her cock.

“Daddy, Daddy please!”

“Please what, Mommy? You want to come?”

“P-Please, please! I’ve been so good!”

“You have been the perfect guest cariño, so perfect for us Mami,”     

“Close Daddy, so fucking close!”

“Come cariño, come on Daddy’s cock,” Alexia allowed, pounding into Leah’s ass a couple more times before Leah almost passed out from her orgasm. You caught her and kissed her everywhere, Alexia caressing her cramping legs as Leah slowly came back.

“Fuck, that was-”

“Exquisite.”

Alexia threw her harness off and laid back, pulling the two of you into her sides. You gave Leah a look that she understood immediately. Leah’s hands roamed naughtily down between Alexia’s legs as you took Alexia’s breast into your mouth. Alexia physically relaxed into the mattress and chuckled, opening her legs a little to let Leah in a little more. Leah’s fingers slipped into her pussy and pressed up immediately, finding her sweet spot and rubbing it hard.

Alexia moaned Leah’s name and yours, cradling your head that sucked her breasts one after the other. Her breath shallowed and her chest heaved, hand on your head as you leaned over her and licked her clit as Leah fingered her.

“Amor! Ca-Cariño!” she cried out as she came, feeling her ears ring and legs shudder hard. She panted and you slipped back beside her. Leah gently pulled her fingers out of Alexia and she sucked on them, moaning at the taste of the Spanish captain.

“Delicious,” Leah stated, settling back into Alexia’s side.

“When you come to England in two weeks, stop by?” Leah asked you and Alexia, pecking both your lips.

“Sí, we have to play both sides out no? Like Champions League,” Alexia states seriously, you and Leah laugh and she starts chewing you two out in Catalan again which somehow lulls Leah to sleep.

Two weeks later, when you and Alexia make your way to England for the second leg of the Champions League semi-final against Chelsea, they crash at Leah’s house for the night. Alexia sat in the living room grumbling about the lack of good football on TV while you and Leah tried to reheat the takeout Leah had picked up from a local Chinese place down the street.

After dinner, Alexia suddenly got a little antsy, snuggling into Leah’s chest while you sat between her legs. Her hands were less subtle, finding their way under Leah’s hoodie, caressing the warm skin gently. You were the same, already settled on Alexia’s lap kissing her neck. Leah smirked and turned the TV on a little lower before caressing down Alexia’s arms.

“Does Daddy need something from us?” Leah asks, kissing Alexia’s ear softly as she whispers into it.

“Want you two, couldn’t stop thinking about that night at the hotel,” Alexia admits easily, melting into Leah’s embrace. Leah watches as you grind down on Alexia’s crotch when she shakes her head and looks back at Leah.

“Want you to fuck me Leah, want amor to watch you use me, cariño please,” Alexia pleads so beautifully, eyes filling with tears that only make Leah’s cunt throb.

“I can do that darling, you promise to be good for me angel?”

“The best, I am the best.”

“That you are, baby. I want you two in the room naked and on your knees at the foot of the bed.”

They scramble and Leah grins, turning the TV off and taking her time before she goes into the bedroom. She stood at the door and heard hushed whispers, before silence. She walks in and smiles, seeing the two of them exactly where she wanted them.

Alexia sits a little taller than you do, rocking a little on her knees in anticipation, clearly not accustomed to giving up control in the bedroom but seeing Leah’s eyes change and go dark with pure lust and sexual motivation only made her core ache in eagerness of what was to come.

“You,” Leah points rudely at you, “on the bed at the head. Not a fucking sound,” you nod and scramble onto the bed where she asks, hands folded neatly in your lap.

“And you,” Leah steps in front of Alexia, “lay down in the middle and be a good girl.”

“Yes Mommy,” Alexia answers, lying in the middle of the bed obediently. You settle at her head and caress her brunette and blonde hair, while Leah sits comfortably between her legs. Leah wastes no time and dives into her dessert, slurping and sucking on Alexia’s folds, fingers drumming up her muscular thighs that threatened to crush her head between them.

Alexia’s hands don’t know where to put themselves and Leah pulls them into her hair, eyes fixated on the thick Spaniard in her four-poster bed. Leah slips two fingers into Alexia like she had the last time they fucked and it sends Alexia’s brain spiraling, having tried to desperately recreate that feeling since Leah left the next morning.

You too can’t decide what to do with your hands, having been trained by Alexia to wait for instructions before moving a muscle. Leah can tell that Alexia has given up all her power today and that she held the reigns. It was a power that made her chest swell with pride.

“Ride her face, darling. That’s all her slut mouth is good for, isn’t it?” Leah taunted but Alexia only got wetter, the slick practically pouring out from the Catalan.

“Yes Mommy, she eats pussy so good,” you supply, straddling Alexia’s face before she can say anything. Leah smirks and presses her fingers up into Alexia’s sweet spot that she remembered from the last time. Alexia moans right onto your cunt, lapping up your juices that made your thighs sticky.

Leah pulls her fingers out and climbs off the bed, pulling her favorite strap out and securing it to her hips. Alexia can’t see what she’s got on but she can hear it and it sounds heavy. You ogle at the appendage between Leah’s legs and your eyes go wide, the ribbed dildo was long and thick, surely as big as Alexia had ever used on you.

Leah thrusts three fingers into the Spanish woman and fingers her hard and fast merely to open her up, Alexia’s legs struggling to keep themselves open as you leaned forward to ride Alexia’s tongue that had slipped into your heat.

“She feels so good Mommy,” you tell Leah, watching her fingers push into Alexia’s gaping pussy till the webbing. Her slick made a wet patch on the blanket under you three, your slick making a mess on Alexia’s beautiful face. She was in heaven, she thought, the two weeks of dreaming about this day made it worth the wait and it was more than she was expecting.

“She does feel good, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet she is?” Leah teases, reaching out for you for a kiss. You kiss her hard and moan, feeling Alexia’s big hands grab your ass for some stability.

“Want something a little special, darling?” Leah asks as she pulls away from you. She pulls her fingers out and watches you nod, tongue out like a panting like a dog. You think that Leah’s gonna let you have a little fun with Alexia but you were in for a little surprise like Leah said.

Leah presses her Alexia-covered fingers into your mouth deep into the cavern, pressing down on your tongue to pull a gag out of you.

“That is my favorite sound in the world, cariño,” Alexia pipes in, grinning wide with her slick-painted chin and lips.

“It is music to my ears,” Leah chimes in, pressing her fingers deep into your throat again to hear you gag. Tears fill your eyes and you stumble a little, falling forward onto Alexia’s torso.

Leah pulls out a strap from under her pillow and gives it to Alexia. You slip off her and stare, connecting the dots in your head.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you while Mommy has her way with me, got it?”

Leah smiles, helping Alexia pull the harness on. It settles right above her cunt which leaves it all for Leah while you could comfortably ride Alexia at the same time. Alexia sees the dildo Leah’s got on for the first time and smiles, stroking it gently.

“Will it fit Mommy?” she asks innocently, grabbing the lube Leah handed her to coat the toy with. She made a show of spreading the lube all over it, using the leftovers for her cock.

“We’ll get it to fit, darling.”

Leah manhandles you onto Alexia with her clean hands, spanking your ass hard as you look close to tears. She guides the toy into your pussy and you whine, the stretch was more than Alexia’s tongue could prepare you for.

“So full Mommy, feels so good,” you sigh, bottoming out on Alexia’s cock. She smiles and caresses your thighs before you add something that sends lightning through both Leah’s and Alexia’s veins.

“Your turn Daddy,” you grin and bite your lip, kneading Alexia’s breasts. Her hands on your hips suddenly go tight and Leah’s hands on your waist press you forward to expose Alexia’s heat. Leah swipes a little more lube on the tip and slides herself home, kissing your back as whines and whimpers leave Alexia’s mouth.

“Fuck, Mommy,” Alexia starts but takes a sharp breath when Leah bottoms out, “your cock is so big.”

“Too much, darling?”

“It’s perfect Mommy,” Alexia moans, moving her hips on her own. You began to ride her cock, feeling Leah’s thrusts which felt like she was fucking you too. You hover over Alexia and take her cock, feeling her thrust up into you as you try your best to ride her.

Leah ruts into Alexia like a dog in heat, the sticky lube creaming at the base of Leah’s cock as she enjoyed the view of your tight grip on Alexia’s cock to spur her on.

Alexia moaned loudly, feeling the ribbed cock inside her graze over her sweet spot. It jerks her hips which sends her cock so deep inside you that you’re sure you can feel it in your stomach. Your hand caresses your belly and lo and behold, there’s a cock shaped bulge just above your belly button.

“Oh Daddy, you’re so deep!” you moan, canting your hips on her cock faster to chase your high. Leah grips your waist but feels the skin tug under her hold and moves them just over your palm resting on the bulge that came and went.

“Daddy, you really are deep darling,” Leah tells Alexia whose hand, which is the biggest of the three, rests on top. She smirks when she feels the rhythmic pulse of her cock inside you.

“¿Cerca?” Alexia asks you and you nod when she feels Leah fuck into her pussy harder. It sends shivers down her spine and pleasure right through her body. Her eyes roll into her head and she smiles in pleasure, pulling you down for a searing kiss. Leah leans back and fucks up into Alexia’s swollen sweet spot, making sure the whole ribbed cock grazed it over and over again.

You aren’t sure who came harder.

You aren’t sure who screamed louder.

You aren’t sure how you ended up in a suspiciously Leah-scented hoodie.

Alexia asks herself the same question.

“Hello, darlings,” Leah’s voice sounded distant but comforting until there were kisses pressed to your head and several more on Alexia.

“What happened?” Alexia asked, tucking herself into Leah’s side and looking up at her.

“You two fell asleep the moment you came at the same time. I cleaned you up and put fresh sheets on. Now I need you two to finish this bottle of water before the pizza I ordered gets here.”

“We haven’t got any more games over here do we?” you ask Alexia as she sips on the water while Leah gets the pizza from the delivery man at the front door.

“No, but I think I can convince Jona to have international training to use the facilities at Arsenal or something because I need her dick again.”

[devilstruly]

Hey so how do you think Jason Todd and Dick grayson would deal with their love who’s a ray of sunshine (not hyper. More like has an innocence about them where they’re just experiencing life for the first time. They just get happy over the little things in life: Like their dress has pockets or they see a stray cat or dog down an alley and they’ve left their boyfriend side to say hi to it and give it some food they somehow always have hiding in their clothes. Even tight fitted dressed).. and living a pretty good life s/o finding out the men’s secret identity and the men are like “are you sure you’re ok with this?” Or Jason’s like “I got a lot of baggage”. And s/o’s very calm and not their usual ray of sunshine self “ This is a lot better than other stuff I’ve been through in the past. I’m good with it”. Or to Jason “what? You think you’re the only one with baggage?” The men didn’t know this, but s/o grew up in the roughest part of gotham in a poor family? So they’ve seen a lot of bad things and bad things have happened to them? They’re ok with their bf doing vigilante work cuz if vigilantes were around more often back then, bad stuff that happened to s/o probably wouldn’t of happened. Also let him know that, “if you get injured, you can always come to me to help you”?

hi omg !! thanks sm for the ask <3 now i've never written the sunshine trope myself but i'll try my best here

i think when it comes to dick grayson he would go about revealing his identity very carefully and very thoughtfully, lest he scares you off. mans has probably been stressing about it for weeks. but when he finally drops the bomb and you're just there, all nonchalant, he's utterly confused. nightwing.exe has stopped working.

'w-what do you mean okay? that's it?!'

'i've seen worse. you're good.'

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?'

cue a lot of questions. you're in for a long night.

now with jason todd it happens as an accident. he was planning to tell you who he was. obviously. at some point of course. not now, while he's sneaking back into his apartment after patrol to find you sitting on his couch watching a movie. his first issue is why you aren't fazed by fucking Red Hood sneaking into your boyfriend's apartment. he's kinda concerned if he's being honest.

'uh- okay, might as well get this over with.' he sighs, taking his helmet off and bracing himself for you to either yell or just get up and leave.

but you don't, instead your eyes rake over his form, noticing the deep cut on his side.

'that needs stitches.'

redhood.exe has stopped working. 'wh- huh?!?'

'sit down, i'll be right back.' you get up from the couch and gesture for him to take your place while you go grab the first-aid kit you know he keeps in the bathroom.

while you're stitching him up and he's still trying to grasp what the actual fuck is going on he uses the opportunity to distract himself from the pain by talking. you talk a little about your background but it's mainly just him trying to make sure you know how fucked up he is and that he's bad for you and a killer, yada yada yada.

'you've told me all of that before, jay. i'm not going anywhere.'

his heart swells, but he refuses to cry in this state so he deflects like usual.

'how the fuck do you know how to stitch a wound?'

[motleyfam]

Living with a houseful of nocturnal crime-fighting vigilantes means that Duke’s come to expect a certain amount of solitude in the mornings—particularly on weekends, when even Alfred is rarely seen before ten—which is why he’s more than a little thrown when he enters the Cave at 6:30 on a Saturday to find Tim sitting up on one of the beds in the medical unit. He’s hugging his knees, forehead resting against them, keeping so still that for a moment Duke isn’t sure if he’s awake or asleep.

“Uh...Tim?” he says cautiously as he approaches the cot. “Are you okay? Do I need to call someone?”

“Nah…” Tim mumbles into his knees. “‘M fine. Just psyching myself up.”

“What exactly are you psyching yourself up for?” He takes in Tim’s unnatural pallor, the sheen of sweat on his face. “You didn’t get hurt on patrol last night, did you?”

Tim huffs out a breathy laugh. “Didn’t even patrol last night.”

Duke frowns. “Why not?” Friday night is prime time for the Bats; the entire night shift is on the roster (except for Steph, who thanks to some horrible luck with her college registrar was forced to take an eight a.m. sociology class on Saturdays).

“Benched, remember?” Releasing his legs, Tim tugs the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt up just enough to reveal the gauze wrapped around his left hand.

Duke winces as it all comes flooding back to him. Three nights ago, he and Tim had been loading the dishwasher after dinner when Tim had accidentally dropped a salad plate. He’d tried to catch it mid-air, but the plate had hit the edge of the counter, shattering on impact and leaving him clutching a six-inch shard of broken china instead. The slice to his palm had required five sutures.

“Did you rip your stitches or something?” Duke asks.

Another huff of air—the ghost of a laugh. “No, but I’m about to.”

At Duke’s puzzled look, Tim sighs and explains, “I uh, woke up about an hour ago feeling kinda lousy.” A shiver runs through him. “Like, feverish lousy.”

“Shit,” Duke says, grimacing. Regardless of how careful they are with cleaning and dressing Tim’s wounds, his immunocompromised state will always put him at an increased risk of developing infections. He’d had three last year alone.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees with a tired sigh. He looks down at his gauze-wrapped hand again and grimaces. “Just psyching myself up to deal with it. ‘M kinda nauseous.”

“So…just to check if I’ve got this straight, your plan was to come down here alone, cut your own stitches, debride an infected wound, and redo the whole thing—all while running a fever and trying not to puke?”

“Uh…” Tim rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “That about sums it up, yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence between them.

Duke lets out a heavy sigh. “Alright.” He heads for the sink. “Just give me a minute to scrub in…”

[hunterwritings]

𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 | 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍

summary: bi-han comes home wounded, trying his best to keep it from you warnings: mention of blood/laceration, stitching notes: i can only think of writing for bi-han rn 😭

You knew that Bi-han was hot-headed, ironically. You knew that he liked to fight and even though he would most likely win, he would still have battle scars.

It was something you expected, but never looked forward to. Bi-han has a problem being vulnerable and asking for help, so whenever he would get injured in battle he would do his best to hide it from you. Sometimes he'd get away with it and you'd eventually find out after the fact, but sometimes he's a bad liar.

It was the middle of the night when Bi-han stumbled into the temple, his brothers at his side. "Please brother, let us-" Tomas began before Bi-han shut him down. "I can deal with my own wounds." He beckons as he pushes them off and begins walking to your bedroom, holding a hand at his side. "He will be fine Tomas, the pain of us helping him would cause more damage than the wound itself." Kuai Liang reassures his younger brother as they turn and return to their own rooms to rest.

A small groan falls from Bi-han's lips as he rips the mask off his face, his teeth grinding together. He swiftly opened the door of your shared bedroom, trying his best to not wake you. As he quietly shuts the door, he turns back to see you sleeping peacefully on your side of the bed. A sigh of relief fell from his mouth at the sight of you, just knowing you were safe was enough to put him at ease.

His eyes darted to the bathroom, thinking that he could make his way there and clean up, while being quiet enough to not wake you. Bi-han would be lying if he said it wasn't difficult with the large wound at his side, but he would rather die than admit that. He took a breath before slowly beginning to walk towards the bathroom, a small wince caught in his teeth as his hand shot to his side.

As if you had super sonic hearing, you tossed in bed and turned your body to face him as your eyes slowly begin to open. Once you saw the shadowy figure in the dark, you quickly sat up. As you realized it was Bi-han, your heart began to relax for a moment. "I didn't think you were going to be so late." You whisper, still half asleep. "We ran into some trouble, it was a quick fight." He bluntly tells you, relieved you weren't able to see his wounded body in the dark. His relief is quickly gone when you reach over and turn on the soft light next to your bed. Your eyes instinctively shut as you held a hand over your eyes and try your best to focus on Bi-han. When your eyes adjust as best they could, you finally noticed the dark red on his blue uniform.

"What happened!?" You ask, now awake and pushing the covers off of your body.

Bi-han just groans before quickly walking into the bathroom. He tries to shut the door on you, but you quickly make your way into the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" You ask with your eyes glued on his wound. "I am fine." He hissed, keeping his gaze away from you. "Clearly not." You said, a bit of anger setting in.

You pushed him back and made him sit down on the edge of the tub. You turned to grab a small bit of bandages and stitching kits from under your counter. You crouched down next to him as he exhaled deeply. His hands reached down and tried to take the needles from you but you pulled your hands away from him.

"Stop." You began to open up the sewing kit. "I can dress my own wounds, go back to sleep." He tries to demand. You look up and give him a sour look before gripping his shirt. "Take it off." You demanded as you pulled up on the upper part of his uniform.

He reluctantly abides, knowing that you are too stubborn to let him do this on his own. Now with his skin exposed, you could see the wound in full. It was a large cut from his upper ribcage down to the side of his lower abdomen. "Bi-han." You breathe out as you touch the skin around the wound, feeling dried blood around it.

"You act as if I am fragile." He snarls, still looking away from you. "I know you are not fragile which is why this is a bit much, but I knw you will be fine." You nod before pouring a bit of alcohol on a rag before dressing his wound. The alcohol on the wound causes Bi-han to wince loudly as he tightly grabs hold of your leg as you stood next to him.

"Do not treat me like a child." He shakes his head, his eyes tightly pressed together. "I am not treating you like a child, I'm treating you like my husband. It is my job to worry about you, to want to help you." You explain, feeling his grip on your leg soften as he finally turns to look at you. "I know you do not want my help even when you need it, but I am always here to provide it. Because I wish for you to be safe and not in pain, just as I hope you'd like that for me." You hold his face in your hands as he looks up at you, his cold demeanor completely faded as soft eyes stare at yours.

"I would freeze the world over to keep you safe."

A soft smile goes across your lips before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, pulling away and pressing your forehead to his.

Although you interpreted his saying as a metaphor, he meant every single word.

[a-killer-obsession]

S 1&2👀

Congrats on 250 followers!<3

Deep Sleeper

Prompt: Somnophilia

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, dub-con, fingering, oral (giving? and receiving), p in v sex, facial, humiliation, threesome F/M/M

WC: 1.9k

Event Masterlist

“Night everyone,” you yawned, ready to leave the post-battle victory celebration and head to bed, “wake me if anything exciting happens.”

“Like we could wake you if we tried,” Killer snorted, receiving a round of laughs from the surrounding crewmates at your expense.

“Whatever!” You puffed your cheeks and huffed, “I'm not that deep of a sleeper!”

“Yeah?” Killer smirked under his mask, “you wake right up don't you?”

“Like that time you fell asleep in Dive's spot on the couch,” Heat laughed, “so she bit you!”

“I thought she was dead!” Dive clattered her teeth together as she giggled, “she didn't even wake up when House was stitching her up!”

“It was one time!” You pouted, “I was really tired!”

“Okay, then what about that time you fell out of bed during a storm,” Wire added, “and you came to breakfast with a shard of wood sticking out of your shoulder that you didn't even realise was there?”

“I have a high pain tolerance!” You frowned, crossing your arms and staring daggers at Killer for starting this. “I wake up just fine when someone wakes me, thank you very much!”

“No you don't, you narcoleptic bitch!” Kid roared, “Kil and I could fuck ya brains out and ya wouldn't wake!”

“Yeah? Bet!” You squinted at him, laying down the challenge. Sex was not something any Kid Pirate was shy about, but you were confident you'd wake up at that, especially knowing how big the two men are in that department.

“Yeah, and what do we get if we win?” Kid smirked, exchanging a knowing look with Killer.

“The two of you can freeuse me for a week,” you replied confidently, “and if I win, you take me off the bathroom cleaning rotation for the rest of the year.”

“Deal,” Kid held out his flesh arm and you shook it, Kid grabbing your hand hard and pulling you close, “Yer gonna look so pretty at breakfast with my load on yer face,” he purred in your ear, making you shiver, before you turned and scowled at him for appearances, despite the electricity pooling at your core.

Kid and Killer gave you plenty of time to fall asleep, not that you needed it, you always fell unconscious hard and fast after a good battle and a good feast. The two of them made their way to your room, laughing and shoving each other, anticipating the fun they would have with your body. They knocked on your door, out of principle, but of course you didn't reply, which only made them laugh more. They entered your room with muffled snickers, even Killer having trouble suppressing his true laugh as they found you asleep face down on top of your covers, still fully dressed, shoes included, like you'd just flopped on the bed and immediately passed out.

“What did I say?” Kid laughed, “Fuckin’ narcoleptic!”

“Adds to the challenge,” Killer noted, pulling your shoes from your feet, “probably did it on purpose, thinking pulling her clothes off would wake her.”

“Sounds to me like she's askin’ to lose these clothes,” Kid smirked, pulling a dagger from his bandolier. He slid the blade under the edge of one leg of your pants, before sliding the blade up, cutting open the fabric, repeating the action on the other side until all that covered your ass was a scrap of denim. Killer removed the scrap, before tearing your panties and pulling them away as well, leaving you without clothes on your lower half and exposing your cunt to the men. Killer pushed at your thighs to spread your legs, your pussy pretty and inviting, a slight glisten to it from your earlier arousal.

“Pretty,” Killer noted, running his thumb through your folds, to which you still didn't wake, snoring softly as he touched you. “She's wet, she was really counting on us trying it huh?”

“Little slut,” Kid gave an amused bark, “let's roll her, I wanna see her tits.”

Killer rolled you over unceremoniously, and Kid was quick to rip open your blouse and run his dagger through the connection between your bra cups, your breasts springing free, nipples pert as the cold air breezed over them. Kid gave your nipple a pinch, watching your face for a reaction and smirking when you didn't even twitch. “She's fuckin' out of it,” he laughed, “let's have some fuckin’ fun, aye?”

The two of them stripped off their clothes, Kid even leaving his metal arm against the wall and Killer removing his mask - that was how sure he was that you wouldn't wake up. Killer knelt between your legs, nuzzling his nose against your clit before running his tongue through your slit. It wasn't often that he got to indulge in one of his favourite treats, since he didn't usually remove his mask, and he groaned against your cunt as your honey collected on his tongue. He lapped at your cunt, circling your sensitive bud and toying with your entrance. Your pussy leaked as he stimulated you, your body responding to the pleasure he was giving you even while unconscious, which pleased him greatly.

Meanwhile, the bed dipped as Kid knelt next to your head, stroking himself as he admired your pretty, plush lips. He ran his thumb over your lips, pushing it inside and feeling how hot and wet your mouth was. He rubbed his cock against your cheek, smearing precum on it, before rubbing his shaft against the seam of your lips. He used his thumb to pull open your mouth, pushing the fat head of his cock between your lips, just putting the tip in your mouth and making shallow thrusts before deciding to go a little further. He couldn't deepthroat you like this, but he could enjoy the way your cheek bulged as the head of his cock prodded against the inside of it. He held your jaw open just enough that your lips were still tight around his shaft as he worked his cock in and out of your mouth.

Killer began the process of stretching you out so they could take turns fucking your pussy, first bullying his tongue inside you before switching to his fingers, sucking on your clit as he worked two inside of you, then a third, pumping you slowly and scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. Killer curled his fingers and the two of them heard you moan softly around Kid's cock. “Fuck, do that again Kil,” Kid instructed.

Killer made come hither motions inside you, and your gummy walls fluttered around his fingers as you moaned again, your pussy getting tight around his fingers as a small gush of fluid came out of you. “Oh fuck, she came!” Killer laughed, “she fucking came and she's still asleep!”

“Now that's what you call a wet dream,” Kid chuckled, “she ready for a cock?”

“Yeah, you want to go first?” Killer asked, still pumping his fingers into you.

“Yeah, shove off,” Kid barked. The two of them swapped spaces, Killer opting to wrap your hand around his cock to fist himself with it, the head of his cock pressing against your open lips with each motion, his free hand playing with your tits. Kid lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed in, making you whimper in your sleep as his fat cock stretched you further. “Fuck, so tight and wet,” Kid growled, “her cunt is sucking me in, greedy slut.”

The two of them used your body in unison, even the jostling of Kid's increasingly hard thrusts not waking you from the bone deep sleep you were in. You made the occasional soft moan but made no sign of waking as they fucked you, Kid getting more daring with the speed and force of his thrusts as Killer slipped his cock in your mouth just as Kid had earlier. Kid felt himself getting close as you made little whines in your sleep, drool pooling at the corner of your open mouth and dribbling down your cheek and neck. “Swap with me,” Kid barked, “I'm about to paint that pretty face.”

The two of them swapped places again, Killer groaning as his cock slid inside you, squeezed tight by your hot wet cunt. Kid held your mouth shut as he rubbed the underside of his shaft against your lips, precum leaking from his throbbing cock before he grunted and came, spilling thick white all over your lips and cheek, some of it dripping into your hair. “Ha, nice,” Kid mused, slapping his softening cock against your cheek and using your soft skin to wipe away the last drips of cum. “Your turn Kil, paint her white.”

Killer didn't need much longer to get him there after watching Kid cum on your face, fucking you hard and fast in a manner that would have any conscious woman screaming in pleasure. He truly didn't understand how you hadn't woken up, he was really being rough with you, and his fingers would no doubt leave bruises on your hips. He pulled out quickly when he felt himself getting close, not making it all the way to your face but managing to coat your chest in a viscous spray of cum, a few rogue splashes making it to your chin as he straddled your stomach and panted. The two of them exchanged shit eating grins, knowing they had won the bet, before Killer climbed off you.

They removed the remaining scraps of your clothing so you would just assume you'd fallen asleep naked, knowing you were ditsy enough to forget you went to bed clothed, before getting their things and redressing. Killer scooped you up bridal style so Kid could pull back the blanket, and they tucked you into your bed, not cleaning off their cum purposely.

The next day nothing seemed amiss when you woke. You could have sworn you went to bed dressed, but you guessed you must have misremembered. You preferred to shower after breakfast, when there were less people taking up all the showers in the communal bathroom, so you sleepily made your way to the galley. Crew mates snickered and nudged each other as you made your way to the table where Kid and Killer sat, the two of them struggling to keep a straight face. You served yourself breakfast from the sharing trays on the table, shoving a forkful of eggs in your mouth before realising everyone was staring at you, slowly removing the fork and swallowing your mouthful.

“What?” You asked anxiously, worried there was some sort of spider on you or something.

“You got a little something in your hair,” Wire snickered, pointing at the side of your face. You touched where he pointed, your hand coming away covered in something white and sticky.

“Uh.. ARG,” you shouted as you realised what it was, wiping your hand on your pants, “KID THAT'S FUCKIN’ DISGUSTING!”

“Had to leave some proof,” Kid smirked, “we're gonna have so much fun with that tight cunt over the next week. Hope you're ready to not get any sleep. Or maybe we'll just fuck you in your sleep again.”

You groaned and pushed your plate out of the way so you could slam your head against the table in defeat. Maybe you should see a doctor about your sleeping issues. Or not.

Like my stuff? Consider buying me a ko-fi

Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail

[morganwrites12672]

How Hard Can It Be to Burn Some Bones?

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She was just supposed to keep the spirit busy. It wasn't supposed to have taken Dean so long to burn the bones. He should have been back minutes ago. She can't hold off the vengeful spirit from taking her life too for much longer.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Enjoy! I had so much fun writing this.

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Her head felt like lead. As she gingerly brushed her fingers against the wound, they came back red and sticky. The spirit would be back in a few seconds. Her hand wrapped around the iron knife she had. It was small and wouldn't do anything unless she got close. Close enough to get hurt.

Dean should be done by now. It was a simple salt and burn. Maybe the bones were taking him longer to dig up than she had anticipated.

She got back to her feet, desperately clutching her small blade. It was the only thing that would do anything against the vengeful spirit. She was out of salt and the rock salt shot gun had went with Dean in case he ran into anything. She had her own shot gun like that, at her car. She had forgotten it.

Looking through the few supplies left in her duffel bag, she was screwed.

The lights began to flicker again. Her breath came out white. She looked around, trying to find the spirit that was hellbent on killing her. Dean couldn't take much longer. And if he did. . . she didn't want to think about that.

"Come on, come out and fight me!" She yelled. It would be easier if it rushed at her from the front. She needed it to make an appearance already.

She heard a horrible shriek and looked behind her. There the woman stood. Pale blue dress ripped to shreds and covered in blood. The bloodied blade that she was trying to avoid. The sunken and wrinkled face that would haunt her nightmares. This was one hideous ghost.

She swung her blade, hitting the spirit. It shrieked again before disappearing. It would come back in only a few seconds though. As the spirit came back, and attacked again. The blade sliced her shoulder and she let out a hiss of pain.

She backed away, hoping to buy some time. The spirit was advancing on her and fast. Right before the hideous ghost could bury it's blade in her chest, it began shrieking and burning. She sighed, thank God. Dean had finally been able to burn the bones.

She slumped to the ground, pressing a hand against the wound on her shoulder. It was the deepest cut. Other than that, and the head injury, it was all bruises and shallow cuts. She wouldn't die. Probably.

Dean walked through the door, "Next time, you can dig up the grave. That was a-" his words stopped as he noticed her slumped on the ground, holding a bleeding shoulder. "Shit, shit."

"It's not that deep," She half mumbled.

"Damn, that's a lot of blood," Dean said as he knelt down next to her.

Dean took in all of her injuries. Head wounds always look worse than they are. He gently grabbed her uninjured arm, helping her stand up. She didn't even bother protesting his help. Her head was pounding and every part of her body was sore from getting thrown around like a ragdoll by a pissed off spirit.

As Dean helped her into the car, she began speaking. "How hard can it be to salt and burn some bones?" She grumbled. "You took hours!"

"i didn't even take an hour!" Dean retorted. Well, at least she was arguing with him just like normal. He let out a small sigh of relief. Once they got back to the motel, he could patch her up.

"I could have done it faster," She mumbled, making sure to keep pressure on her shoulder. A trickle of blood still slipped past the cloth. It wasn't a horrible wound but it would require stitches.

Dean was more relaxed with her bantering like normal. It was almost like normal, expect for the fact that she was bleeding. He looked over at her again, she would be fine. It wasn't a serious injury.

She kept her eyes out the window, watching the trees fly by. It was a nice night. The moon was shining, the air was brisk. A faint smile played on her lips as she watched the scenery. Despite the pain in her body, she was happy. Driving back to the motel with Dean after hunts was relaxing. The two were usually quiet for most of the drive, just enjoying each other's company after probably almost dying.

As he parked the Impala at the motel, he was already out of the car and helping her stand before she even realized they were there. Her head was fuzzy. Everything sounded like she was underwater.

"Hey, hey, no. Don't fall asleep on me," Dean's voice was faint and muffled.

She could faintly tell that she was no longer walking. She felt Dean's arms wrapped around her body. She rested her head on his chest. He would take care of her. She didn't need to keep fighting to keep her eyes open. She was with Dean, she would be okay.

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When she woke up, her head was pounding. She sat up with a groan. Looking around the motel room, she saw Dean. He hadn't realized she was awake. He continued packing up the motel room. Most of his things were in a duffel bag, sitting on the other bed.

She looked down at herself, pushing the blanket off. She lifted her shirt up. She grimaced as she saw how many deep purple bruises coated her abdomen. Dean had taken care of everything. She was out of her old clothes, and she wasn't covered in blood in dirt.

"Oh thank God," She heard a deep voice say. She looked up, seeing Dean.

"Did I take a shower?" She mumbled. Everything that had happened after the spirit had been burned was a blur.

"Yeah, you insisted. Don't worry, I made sure she didn't slip and crack your head open."

"Oh, anything to see me naked," She teased with a small smile. She noticed the bandages on her shoulder and remembered. That was probably why she had passed out. Well, that or the concussion.

Dean laughed and sat down on the bed.

Everything was okay. The hunt had been successful. Neither one of them had sustained any injuries that wouldn't heal up within a few weeks. They would be long gone from this town within a few hours. On to the next hunt. That was the life they lived.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to reblog and/or comment!

[aerynwrites]

Scars

Halsin x afab!Reader

A/N: some friends and I were talking in discord and one of them gave me permission to use this wonderful idea! I hope y’all enjoy ❤️

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: major insecurity in reader regarding scars, talks of self hatred, self depreciation, all is comforted tho, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, partial nudity, fluff, kisses, love confessions.

The battles are done, the enemies defeated, and yet it feels like the work doesn’t quite end there.

This battle was harder than the rest, bending and breaking all of you more than expected. So much so that blood still oozes and bones still need mending despite the healing spells Shadowheart was able to bestow upon your group. Even her magic was depleted leaving her with the the rare wounds to show for it.

Return to camp has become a habitual affair, those that are able, help the companions wounded before everyone returns to their tents for the night.

You, however, slink off on your own from the get go, avoiding the healing hands in favor of your own mediocre care.

It’s better for you this way. Safer. At least mentally. The small river a short distance from camp has become your solace. Far enough away to seclude you but close enough that if danger were to arise, help would be close by.

You’ve come here after most battles, rinsing off in the clear water before tending to your own wounds as best you can, too ashamed to ask anyone for help - too scared to bare yourself before them.

Especially since a certain druid joined your team.

Before Halsin had come along you’d been able to slip away with no questions asked. Every now and then Shadowheart would tease you about how she could get the job done quicker but it would end there. Now…now it’s like you can feel Halsins stare each time you leave camp, his offers of help being brushed off with a flippant wave of your hand.

You enjoy his company. More than enjoy it really - so much so that a small crush has started to develop for the larger man. A part of you has longed to accept his offers of help, longed to open up to him in a way you have to no one else.

Yet, each time, the acceptance dies on your tongue and you tuck your tail and run. Just like you always have.

You sigh as you approach the waters edge, stripping down to nothing but your under things in order to sit on a rock submerged below the water enough that you can rinse away the muck of battle in order to assess the damage.

It’s the same process as always. Rinse off, tend to any wounds then dress and head back to camp. But tonight proves more difficult.

You have more injuries than normal, which means more stitching - a task proving difficult due to what you assume is a larger wound on your back. You’d taken a nasty blow to the shoulder towards the end of the skirmish and now it aches terribly and refuses to move the way you need in order to tend to yourself properly.

With a wince, you reach behind you with your good arm and try to feel for the wound, hissing and snatching your hand back when it brushes over the edge of what seems to be a nasty gash.

You’ll never be able to reach that on your own.

Muttered curses slip past your lips, as you turn to focus on the things you can fix instead. However, just as you move to tend to the shallow claw marks on your arm the all too close snap of a twig startles you.

Your head whirls to look behind you, and your eyes widen in mortification to see Halsin standing several yards away.

“Halsin! What are you doing-“ you cut yourself off as you reach for your shirt on the bank behind you, desperate to cover up before he can see anymore.

Before he can think you’re hideous.

The thought is fleeting, but drives your actions all the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Halsin finally speaks, holding out placating hands, as if dealing with a scared animal.

His words stall your movement just long enough for you to notice that the large elf isn’t looking at you. Instead his head is turned off to the side as if he doesn’t want to intrude on your privacy if it’s not wanted.

Your shirt hangs limply in your hands before you gather it to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

With his head still turned away, Halsin clears his throat. “I know you prefer to tend to your injuries yourself, but I saw the wound on your back when you all returned from camp. I only came to offer my help - and if you refuse I will turn now and leave you in peace.”

The air is silent as his words settle between you, and you open your mouth to give your typical refusal before stopping short.

You do need help. There’s no way you’ll be able to take care of the injury on your own. Not properly anyways. And infection is dangerous - even with healers around to help.

You let out a soft sigh, turning back to face the water, your shirt still clutched tightly to your front like some sort of lifeline.

“That’s - yes. I can’t…I can’t reach it on my own,” you admit softly, trying not to quake in shame as you hear his soft footfalls approach.

The thud of his boots in the grass and quiet splash of water is the only thing that lets you know how close he is, your eyes still trained on the river in front of you.

Soon you feel a presence at your back, and Halsins voice meets your ears once more.

“May I touch you?”

The question is simple, yet it ignites a bitterness you hadn’t realized was there. “You have to in order to treat me, don’t you?”

If Halsin reacts to your snappy reply, he doesn’t say anything, instead you feel him settle onto the rock behind you, water rippling between your bodies as a gentle hand rest on your shoulder

“It is ideal, yes, but I will not force my help upon you if you do not wish it.”

His breath is warm against your neck, and you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. Shame wells in you again, but this time at yourself. He’s just trying to help and you’re letting your own insecurities - your own self hatred spew at the wrong person.

“I’m sorry, yes - it’s fine. I’m not…used to this is all. I don’t like people seeing me like…like this,” your admission is a soft, broken thing, almost lost amongst the babbling water if it weren’t for Halsin’s close proximity.

He lets out a low hum just as you feel the unfamiliar warmth of healing magic along your back, seeing the golden glow from the corner of your eye.

“A good healer would never shame those needing his help,” he tells you, the hand on your shoulder giving you a reassuring squeeze. “My aid is available whenever you require.”

You shake your head, a scoff slipping past your lips. “That’s not…thank you.”

Your initial words die on your lips, the true reason for your hesitance unwilling to reveal itself so soon. And if Halsin notices your deflection he doesn’t say anything, instead he lets silence fill the air between you until finally that comforting warmth disappears from your skin, the glow dissipating.

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

The automatic refusal sits on your tounge once more but you stop yourself, instead moving to hold up your other arm, showing him the claw marks that have already started to scab.

“Of course,” he says and you can hear him shift behind you. “Would you be comfortable facing me?”

You nod, and for the first time you find yourself telling the truth. For the first time in as long as you can remember you feel some semblance of safety with someone seeing you like this.

Slowly you turn to face the druid, finally letting the shirt you were holding drop from your grip, tossing it back to shore. You still have your underwear on, and you’re sure the man before you had seen worse.

Once you’re settled, you find yourself fave to face with Halsin for the first time tonight, and the first thing you notice is his smile.

It’s a tiny thing, small and reassuring and kind. An emotion you’re not used to seeing in this state of undress.

He gently takes your arm in his hand and applies the same treatment as before. Magic emits from his palm, wrapping your arm in small tendrils of golden light as the healing warmth envelops you once more.

“Will there be scars?”

The question falls from your lips before you can stop it, and you watch as Halsin’s brow furrows.

“This one should leave minimal scarring, if any at all. The creatures claws did not dig deep. But the wound on your shoulder was…” he pauses. “Even magic cannot overpower nature at times. It will most likely leave a mark,” he smiles again, “but you do not seem a stranger to those.”

His words cut deep, hitting you where you know he doesn’t mean too. But your shame, your insecurity rears it’s ugly head again, and you yank your arm from his grip - the magic dispelling as his touch does.

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” you hiss, moving to stand uncaring of your half healed wound, or the way you teeter on unsteady feet.

“Wait,” a strong hand reaches to capture your own before you can leave. “I meant no offense, truly.”

His words cause you to pause, and you reluctantly turn to look down at where he still sits in the water. His smile is gone, lips downturned and eyes pleading.

“Then what did you mean if not to make fun of my disfigurement - of the very things I hate most.”

Halsin stands to join you, eyes searching your own until he has his feet beneath him and then your hands clasped in his own.

“I did not think it was something you felt ashamed of or I would not have made the jest. I apologize for not treading more carefully but…” he pauses again, weighing his words. “Your scars…they are nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to laugh, can feel it bubbling up in your chest. A bitter, nasty little sound that wants to make itself known. But you choke it down, the weight of his words helping you to do so.

“But they’re…ugly. Hideous. I’ve heard it enough throughout my life that…it must be true.” Your words are broken, reflecting exactly how you feel inside. How you’ve felt for so long.

Quickly a hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb wiping away tears you hadn’t even realized started to fall.

Halsins mouth is set in a thin line, eyes serious as he guides you to look at him.

“Whoever whispered those lies into your ears deserves a fate worse than the Oak Father can give,” he tells you, eyes falling down to take you in entirely. “Nature may be beautiful, but it is far from perfect - and sometimes it is far from merciful.”

Slowly, he takes drops his hand from your cheek, instead taking your hand in his and guiding your arm upwards. He uses his other hand to begin tracing the scars that cascade across your skin, some small and some large - all with different stories.

His fingers are gentle, barley a whisper on your skin as they travel upwards towards your shoulder and eventually he turns you to face away from him again, his fingers continuing their journey down your back.

“Scars are a part of one’s life, just as nature intended. They tell the story of where life has taken you, of where you’ve been.”

His breath ghosts against your shoulder and a shiver runs through you as his lips ghost over the scar of the wound he just healed.

“Some may have more than others, but that just means their stories are easier to read,” he comes around to your front again, looking down at you with a reverence you’ve never seen before.

“Would you look upon my face and call me hideous for the scars I bear?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, eyes widening. “No! Of course not, you’re…I think you’re…beautiful.”

Halsin smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then why can you not show yourself the same kindness?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never…thought about it like that.” You say honestly, eyes casting downwards.

Halsin quickly redirects your attention, bringing up his arm and removing one of his bracers, showing yet another scar. It’s white and faded with time but you can tell it was from a terrible wound that was never treated properly.

“I received this one early in my youth. I thought myself a proper druid, ready to take on even the toughest foes. However, a displacer beast was quick to show me otherwise. I was left with a scar and a lesson learned, encouraging me to not only work hard to attune with nature and its magic but to step back and think before charging head first into a situation.”

His words are wise, and you find yourself studying the scar with curiosity rather than disgust as you have with your own.

The next while continues on like this, Halsin slowly showing you his scars and telling the stories behind them. Eventually you both end up sitting on the bank to dry as the stories continue. And eventually, he gets you to open up too - staring with small mundane scars and stories before eventually revealing the scars you hated most and what led to them. Except…as the night goes on, you find the hatred giving way to nostalgia. Some of them came from memories that make laughter bubble in your chest. Like the time an old childhood friend wanted to try to knock an apple from your head with an arrow but instead left you with a scar on your temple and a fear of inexperienced archers. Or the time you had slipped in the river trying to catch frogs with that same friend and gained a scar on your knee.

Another pleasant story had just finished and Halsin smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you’ve come to admire.

“See, your scars, no matter how much you may detest them, tell your story - each one a different page.” Slowly he takes your hand in his own, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “And I would be happy to know each and every one if you’ll let me.”

His words make butterflies erupt in your stomach and heat rush to your cheeks as you nod.

“It might take a while,” you gesture to yourself, “there’s…lots of pages.”

If it’s even possible, his grin widens. “All the better - it just means more time spent with you.”

You move before you can think, acting on what little bit of courage has gathered in your chest as you lean towards him and press a quick kiss to his lips. You move to retreat, just in case you have read the signs wrong. But a warm hand comes up to rest at the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he kisses you back.

His lips are warm and gentle against yours and you feel like you might melt into a puddle right here. But your elation is cut just short as Halsin pulls away, gazing at you happily.

“You are beautiful,” he says softly, “enough to rival nature itself. Please come to me if you ever need to be reminded of that.”

Suddenly bashful, you give him a small nod before leaning into him again, but this time just to rest your head on his shoulder as your arms slip around his middle. Halsin returns the embrace, strong arms slipping around you and cocooning you in a comforting warmth.

You still have a long way to go, but with Halsin at your side…the journey might be a little more bearable.

[vbecker10]

The Night Nurse (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part6 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, arguing between you and Loki, you being super awkward and Loki being oblivious, some swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot

Almost twenty minutes later then Loki typically comes to visit, he finally appears in the infirmary. You rush to him, throwing your arms around him as you pull the tall prince into a hug without even thinking. He doesn't respond, his body remaining stiff against yours. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-" you quickly apologize and take a step away from him, worried you've made him uncomfortable.

Just as suddenly, Loki puts his arms around you and pulls you back towards him. "I was just starting to enjoy that," he chuckles and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. He sighs contently as he relaxes into your embrace.

"I heard about what happened on the mission and I was so worried you had been hurt," you admit, resting your cheek against his chest. He moves one hand up and down your back slowly to comfort you and you shift your arms a bit higher, touching the middle of his back.

He winces when you move and you let go of him instantly, looking up with concern. "I'm afraid I am not quite as injury free as I appear," he says in a low voice. His illusion fades and you see a long, fairly deep cut on his right cheek. You reach out gently, touching his chin to move his head for a better view of the wound. He looks into your eyes and says, "There are a few others." You frown then take his hand quietly, leading him into one of the exam rooms.

You walk over to the tall cabinet in the room and start to gather the things you will need to clean and close his wounds. You turn towards him to ask him a question but your mind goes blank. Loki's standing with his back to you, taking off his dress shirt.

Why does he always need to take off his shirt, he's distracting enough with it on, you can't stop the thought from popping into your head. Oh... no, your thoughts shift immediately when you see a long, shallow wound on his back. He turns to face you and you see several bruises forming on his left side as well as a few cuts on his chest and stomach.

You frown again, feeling concerned by the number of injuries. "I'll start with the wound on your back first," you suggest, "Since it's the largest one."

He nods in agreement then sits on the table, facing away from you and you stand behind him. "I didn't mean to worry you," he says when you start cleaning the area. "I had no way to contact you in order to let you know I would be late tonight."

"Is that your way of asking for my number?" you ask as you start to prep the wound for closure. Oh my god, why would you say that? you scold yourself. He's literally bleeding and you think he's hitting on you or something.

"It was not," he says.

You physically cringe at his response, your only saving grace is that he can't see you. Very smooth dummy. First you force him into a hug and now you did whatever the hell that was, you think. What is the matter with you tonight?

"That is an excellent idea though. I would like to be able to speak to you without having to wait until you are working. Would that be okay?" he asks with a smile, turning to look over his shoulder.

"Stay still," you tell him gently, putting your hand on his shoulder so he doesn't move too much. "And, yea," you smile excitedly. "That would definitely be okay. Remind me when I'm done putting you back together."

"I will. I enjoy our talks," he says and you blush, again thankful he can't see you.

"Me too," you agree happily. Okay, so that wasn't a total disaster, you think with relief.

"And I appreciated the hug," he adds. "I wouldn't be opposed to another once you are finished."

"I think that can be arranged," you tell him as you finish closing his wound.

You pause just before you cover it with gauze and realize Loki is humming the annoying song from your favorite gum commercial. I wonder if he is humming it to distract himself from reading my mind or because it truly is stuck in his head again.

He chuckles knowing he has been caught and says, "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"Right?" you giggle.

When you finish you ask, "How does that feel?"

"Much better, thank you," he says over his shoulder. You turn away from him to clean up and gather a few more things to work on the rest of his injuries. He shifts on the table so he is facing forward and he smiles when you come closer again.

"None of these will need any stitches," you explain as you examine the cuts on his chest, side and stomach. "This one will though," you motion to the deeper wound on his right peck. You bring you tray closer and stand in front of him. Looking back towards the tray, you pick up a piece of gauze and your leg bumps into his knee when you move.

"I'm sorry," you tell him. You suddenly feel nervous being so close to him but unfortunately you will need to be a bit closer if you want to do the stitches properly.

"It's quite alright," he responds and you stand with your leg against his, cleaning the skin around his injury as gently as possible. You lean towards him, trying to keep as much distance as you can between the two of you. "Would this be better?" he offers as he spreads his legs then puts his hand on your lower back, pulling you closer.

"Yea," you manage to answer as you feel your face heat up. He doesn't remove his hand from your lower back and you reach for a tool on the tray but miss as you keep your eyes fixed on his wound. He hands it to you and you look up at him, "Thanks."

"I might as well be helpful," he smiles and you smile back.

Stop staring at his face, you tell yourself and you look down quickly. No, not better, you think when you remember you are standing between his legs. Focus, you remind yourself, you've done stitches hundreds of times on good looking guys. This isn't any different. Yes, okay, sure, he's way hotter then they are and he's easy to talk to now that he stopped being a jerk and sometimes he flirts with me... I think and he always smells really good even though I'm not sure what exactly he smells like but whatever, none of that means I can freak out now. I'm a professional.

He chuckles and you look up, your heart goes from fluttering to sinking quickly. He's laughing at my thoughts, you realize and take a step away from him but his hand on your back keeps you from going too far.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes and touches your chin with his other hand gently, trying to have you look at him. "I wasn't laughing at you for thinking those things."

You shake your head away from his touch and don't respond to him. Instead you tell him, "I can close this and your cheek then you should leave. It's late and I need to adjust the inventory so none of this looks like it is missing."

"Y/N," he says softly.

"You promised you would stop doing it, but you've been doing it all night," you say as you pick up the needle and begin to stitch his wound. "Haven't you?"

"I have," he answers, his hand dropping from your back. "I'm sorry-"

"Just stop," you interrupt him. "I'm so tired of hearing you say that." He touches your cheek and you move your head again. "I have to focus," you say without looking at him.

He sits quietly until you finish working on his chest. You concentrate on each stitch, trying to keep your mind clear but it only works for so long. I hate this... I don't want to be annoyed with him again. I understand that he can't always control his telepathy but it still feels like an invasion of my privacy, especially when he laughs at what I'm thinking about. It's awkward enough to have a crush on Loki, but for him to be able to look into my mind and see how I feel about him, it's so uncomfortable. Why can't he understand that?

When you are done he asks, "Will you let me speak now?"

"Fine," you agree and clean off the tray. You gather the garbage on a towel and turn to walk away from him.

"That can wait," he takes your wrist lightly to keep you from leaving. You nod, putting the items back down. "Y/N, I apologize for listening to your thoughts... again. I know I promised you I would refrain from doing it but it is becoming harder to keep it from happening accidentally," he tells you. He waits a moment and when you look at him he adds, "I think it is because I like you so much."

Your mouth falls open in shock and you are unable to speak as you process what he said.

He smiles nervously, "The closer I feel to you, the more often your thoughts simply appear in my mind. It has never happened to me with anyone else but I have never feel this connected to anyone. I greatly enjoy being around you and I wish to spend as much time with you as possible, preferably outside of the infirmary if that is okay with you."

You blink then ask, "You like me?"

He laughs, "Did I not state that clearly enough? Yes, Y/N, I like you very much and I don't think I would be wrong to assume you feel the same about me?"

"Yes, I mean no," you giggle nervously, "I mean..." you take a deep breath to steady your thoughts, "I like you too, I just wasn't expecting you to say all of that to be honest."

He puts his hand on your lower back again and you step towards him. "It is unfortunate you have not been able to read my mind then," he says with a smile, "Because I have done nothing but think about you as of late."

You blush again and look into his eyes but the cut on his right cheek catches your attention. "I really should take care of this, you tell him," touching just below the injury gently.

"You truly are a wonderful healer," he says quietly when you begin cleaning the wound.

"That's not what you called me the other night," you mumble then look at him. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, you are right as usual," he says. "I spoke out in anger but you are the best healer who has ever treated me."

"I'm probably the only one who ever has," you joke and pick something else off the tray.

He touches your cheek and you look up again, "That does not mean you are not the best in this realm or any other."

"Stop trying to make me blush, I need to concentrate," you giggle. "I don't want to mess up your perfect face." He smiles but before he can reply you warn him, "Don't do that either. I'm going to start stitching now so no talking, smiling or being cute."

You work in comfortable silence, feeling Loki's eyes on you. You look away from his cheek and make eye contact then look back to what you are doing quickly. Biting your lip, you finish the last of the stitches and reach for the gauze. Loki hands it to you, he has been paying attention to your process and it makes you smile. You cut off a small piece of tape and your eyes drift to Loki's lips then back to his now closed wound. You place your tools back on the tray, remove your gloves then roll it away a bit.

You stand in front of Loki, his legs still on either side of yours, his hand slides ever so slightly up and down your back. Your chest is close to his bare chest and you allow your thoughts to wander for a brief moment.

Loki's other hand moves to the side of your neck, touching you lightly in the same place it rested in the image that was in your mind only seconds ago. He pulls you gently closer, your fingers graze his back and he smirks at you. "That was a very interesting little thought you had, darling," he says as his lips inch slowly closer to yours.

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[callsignserpent]

🇦🇹 König x Medic Reader Headcanons 🇦🇹

The whole ordeal was meant to start out innocently, believe it or not.

This giant boi had come walking into the medical bay after one particularly tough mission, sporting multiple lacerations across one arm and his face, along with a few bruises.

The way he'd sat there quietly as he waited for his turn, grumbling to himself in German, something about how he "doesn't need the hospital".

But when it was finally his turn and he'd seen you? Oh, this man was a goner, from the very beginning.

It was like a switch had been flicked, his whole demeanor changing in a snap.

Grumbling, stubborn 6'8" Austrian now becomes quiet, curiously observant patient.

"How did you get these?" you'd asked, gesturing to the cuts visible beneath the torn sections of his shirt.

"Die Mission verlief nicht gut", he'd simply responded in German, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You'd been with KorTac long enough to have picked up several fluent phrases here and there, so you sort of understood him. Kind of.

You'd told him you needed to clean the cuts and bruises, and like a good soldier, he'd sat there and taken it, only wincing once, when you'd gone to clean the cut along the edge of his jawline, visible beneath the torn, ragged section of his sniper hood.

"Es tut mir Leid..." you'd hastily apologized.

The utter look of shock that passed over König's face when he heard you speak his native tongue-!

"Du sprichst Deutsch?" he'd grunted, trying not to crack a smile, to which you'd nodded and held up a finger and thumb inches apart, indicating you spoke just a little.

He'd seemed almost thoughtfully quiet after that, sitting and watching you as you worked.

Once you were done, König had seemed almost.. disappointed? ...that the time had gone by too quickly.

You'd dismissed him quietly with a gentle smile, telling him he was welcome back any time if he needed something.

And you better believe this man took those words to heart, quite literally.

Because not even three days later, he was back again, this time for just a small series of scrapes he'd sustained along the backs of his knuckles, presumably from a tussle with someone else.

"Ich würde den anderen Kerl ungern sehen, ja?" you'd joked in broken German, upon which König had accidentally cracked a grin beneath his hood, before he'd corrected himself.

"Your German is getting better, maus..." he'd answered, his tone unusually soft that day.

The answering blush in your face that little nickname had produced, that was a look König would picture several times in his head later that night.

From that point on, he would make it his mission to call you cute little nicknames like "maus", "liebling", "meine lieb"...

He'd also make it a point to try and find some excuse or another to see you throughout the week.

"Colonel, it's just mild allergies."

"Colonel, you're not bleeding, it's fine. Nein, you don't need stitches. Ja, I'm sure."

To which he'd insist "König. Und ja, it'll get better faster if you look at it, liebling, bitte?"

Everyone on KorTac's base eventually noticed how their Colonel had become a frequent flyer to the infirmary, their hushed whispers sometimes being overheard.

"Surely he can't be getting hurt that often?" "Is he clumsy, or is it on purpose?" "Maybe it's just bad luck...?"

Little did they all know, you were the real reason he kept showing up.

You yourself were sort of oblivious the first couple of times, until you eventually caught on.

König would even wait until your shift was done for the day, trying to appear casual as he leaned against the doorway to the infirmary, having to duck down a little due to his monstrous height.

Sometimes he'd bring you little gifts too, little things you could keep at your work station, or take back to barracks with you.

(The little stuffed brown bear dressed in a nurse's uniform was your pride and joy, always sat on display at your desk.)

On a more serious note, there was only ever one time he had scared the living shit out of you, when he had gotten really hurt.

A few of KorTac's best had been sent out on a mission, and König had been among them. When he'd gotten back, it was... bad.

You'd never seen so much blood in your life, and you weren't even sure half of it was actually his.

You'd spent that entire night (and the next) looking after him, surviving off coffee and pure adrenaline just to stay awake for him.

And when he'd finally opened his eyes a day later, even his badly torn sniper hood couldn't hide the soft grin that lit up this man's face.

"Mein liebling, sie sind hier?"

The light swat you'd given him, combined with the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, his gaze would soften so fast.

"I thought I was gonna lose you, Kö..."

"Nein, meine kleine maus, Ich würde dich zu sehr vermissen." came his gentle reply.

From that point on, the two of you were nearly inseparable; wherever you went, he would follow, and vice versa.

It would eventually reach the point where if anyone would try and mess with you, they'd very quickly be warned not to fuck with "the Colonel's girl".

You'd rather liked the sound of that, perhaps a little more than you should.

Being König's favorite person, that wasn't so bad.. right?

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