#Like half your body is made of metal and the eye not hidden behind an eyepatch glows in the dark. Sweetie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaslutt · 1 month

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panty theif revamped

ʚ pairing: perv!geto x reader

ʚ incl: fem reader, established relationship, panty theif geto, nudes, masturbation, sexual tension, dirty talk, public teasing, car shenanigans, oral (m!r), hand jobs

ANYONE UNDER 18 AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Gonna go to the bathroom, go ahead and order for me if the waiter comes while I'm gone." Geto smiled before pushing himself out of the booth in the corner of the establishment the two of you were tucked away in. The two of your schedule finally synced up and you could actually go on a proper date for once.

You couldn't help but watch Geto as he made his way to the restroom, more specifically how good his ass looked today, complimented by his tiny waist. You always did love it when he wore tucked-in dress shirts and slacks. His hair was half up, half down per usual as it swayed back and forth with his stride, caressing the cloth of his shirt on his back.

You were shocked out of your trance when the waiter appeared a few seconds later, ready to take you and your boyfriend's order. The kind man collected your menus and left quickly, making his way back to the kitchen to relay your orders to the chef. You glanced around the dim establishment, distracting yourself with the intricate paintings on the walls, waiting for Geto to come back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your small bag that rested in the corner of the booth against the wall. Normally, you wouldn't check your phone since you were on a date, but you could only stare at the paintings and pretend to be interested for so long. As you pulled out your phone and looked at the small screen, you were shocked to see a hidden message from Geto himself, a picture.

Just when you went to unlock your phone, Geto gripped the side of the table and slid back into the booth, looking as casual as ever. "Sorry to keep you waiting, did the waiter take our orders already?" Geto was acting like he didn't just send you a message. Your curiosity got the better of you as you held your phone out to him and showed him the message he just sent you, still locked, sitting on your preview screen.

"Why did you just text me?" you asked, confusion laced all over your tone. Geto smiled and rested his head on his palm before making an expression of feigned ignorance and confusion, a poor one at that. "I don't know, maybe you should look," Geto suggested, his voice revealing hidden mischief. You slowly turned your phone back towards yourself while keeping your eyes on Geto, squinting at him briefly, trying to guess what he was up to.

You looked behind you to make sure no one could see your phone just in case it was something inappropriate. Turning down the brightness, you unlocked your phone and clicked on Geto's chat, only to be met with the most shocking image you'd ever received from him. Quickly, you turned off your phone and flipped its screen down before your eyes shot up to his, wide, exasperated expression saying your words for you.

"What was it?" Geto asked, smiling at you with his eyes closed. Just before you were about to speak, the clanging of metal hit your ears, changing your attention. "Oh no, I dropped my utensils. Would you mind getting them for me, baby? You're smaller, you can fit under the table more easily." Geto asked, explaining his reasoning for asking you. You didn't trust him in the slightest, already knowing from that picture what he was up to.

Shaking your head and sighing, you bent your body to the side and leaned your head under the table, reaching for the utensils that rested by his feet. Geto gently kicked his foot against yours, making your eyes drag upwards to where he wanted you to pay attention to the most. Your jaw fell open in disbelief when you were met with Geto's big fingers toying with fragile straps of frilly fabric under his pants that rested on his hips.

A bit of his skin and stomach peeked out for your eyes and your eyes only, as he untucked a corner of his shirt for you to see better. Forgetting all about the dropped utensils, you quickly came back up from under the table, just nearly missing hitting your head on the corner of it. Geto smiled, his arm movement being blocked by the table, looking like he was tucking his shirt back in his pants.

"You- my- why are you-" You struggled to find your words, your heart felt like it was going to break through your ribs and beat out of your chest. "Hm?" Geto hummed, licking his lips and rolling his head, looking like he was trying to hold back. You maintained eye contact with him, letting your words sort out in your head before you spoke. "Suguru, why are you..." You took a moment to look around the room, making sure no one was in earshot to hear what you were about to say.

"Why are you wearing my panties?" The dimples in Geto's cheek deepened as did his mischievous smile as the man leaned back against the booth cushion and crossed his arms over his chest. "They're so pretty on you, wanted to see how they would look on me," Geto said, carefully watching your reaction.

The picture he had sent you in the bathroom was of him standing in the mirror, handsome face looking downwards at the phone as he held it in the center of his chest. His pants were pulled down just under his balls, exposing his semi-hard cock barely fitting in a pair of your tight, lacy black panties. His balls were threatening to fall out of the fabric's constraints at any moment, and his dick? Well, it wasn't faring any better.

Half of his cock was poking out of the panties, his flushed tip resting against the skin of his pelvis, staining upwards thanks to the fabric. He looked so sexy, it was a shame you didn't get to look at the picture longer, but you would absolutely be keeping that photo somewhere safe to oggle later. "Suguru..." You whispered, voice full of need. You couldn't even be annoyed. Surprised? Sure. But he looked too sexy to be frustrated with.

And now that you knew what he was hiding all night, the thought of him walking around all day in your panties without you knowing sent a heat rippling through your body and straight between your thighs. Suguru could see right through you, could see how his little act was turning you on the longer you thought about it. The man across from you suddenly stood up and walked around the booth to your side, squeezing in without a word.

You tried to make room for him by pressing yourself into the corner of the booth, your bag getting squished against your thigh. "Suguru whatever you're trying to do, drop it. We can't do this here." You said as sternly as you could muster, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him. "I'm not doing anything." He replied. Just as he placed his hand on your knee, the server walked up to the table with your food, interrupting whatever it was you two were doing.

The man looked oblivious enough as he sat your food down, wishing you a good meal. You turned your head to look at the man next to you, ignoring your food completely. "Suguru take me home." You almost whispered, staring into his eyes. Geto smiled, rubbing his hand along your knee, the heat from his skin seeping through your skin. "Why?" He asked, feigning ignorance as he began moving his hand higher and higher up your thigh, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

You looked down at his hand and gripped his wrist with both of yours before you looked back up at him, a begging expression on your face. His fingers were only inches from touching you where you desperately needed him, but you knew you had to be the one to put your hand down and not let Suguru do something like this here, no matter how bad your body was aching for it. "You really wanna leave?" Suguru asked, tilting his head at you, his hand still gripping your thigh as he emphasized his words.

You nodded at him, the words failing to find your lips. Suguru nodded and looked away before he retracted his hand from your thigh and waved down the waitor. "I'm sorry to bother you, my girlfriend isn't feeling well. Is it alright if we get this packaged to go?" Geto asked respectfully, his voice as sweet as ever, giving no hint as to what he was actually feeling at the moment.

The young man made haste packing your food. Maybe three minutes had passed before he returned to the table with your food packaged with a lovely presentation. You made sure Geto tipped him well for his effort before you slid out of the booth, walking quickly in front of Geto, and leading him to the exit. "What's got you feeling so rushed, huh?" He asked cockily, reaching out from behind you and grabbing your hand, slowing you down as he walked at a snail's pace.

You pressed your lips together in frustration, only turning your head to look at him annoyed for a moment before you whipped your head forward and dragged your much larger boyfriend behind you.

Geto gripped your hips when you dragged him to your side of the car, pressing himself against you as he stood behind you. You gripped the containers of food tightly in your hands, your eyes falling shut as Geto's body heat enveloped your body. "Back up, let me get the door for you." You wanted to scream. You were so glad it was dark out and there was no one currently in the parking lot where Geto was doing this.

You swallowed hard before pushing yourself back against him. At first, Geto made no efforts to back up and allow you enough space to open the door, he just let you press your ass back into his obviously hard cock, tenting in his dress slacks. He kept you against him without moving for only a second longer than necessary before he backed up and reached in front of you, opening the passenger door for you.

You turned around and faced the man, his other hand that was on your waist sliding into his pocket as his eyes met yours. He watched you drag your eyes down his body to stare at the bulge in his pants shamelessly, your eyes staying there for a minute before you looked back up at him, obvious arousal written on your face. "Pervert." He joked, smiling at you as he watched you slide into the car, shaking your head in disbelief.

Geto walked like he had nowhere else to be around the car as he made his way to the driver's side, giving you plenty of time to wallow in your own arousal while you sat in the silent car. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when the driver's door popped open. You were about to be alone with him again like you craved ever since he sent you that filthy picture in the restroom.

Geto was silent as he slid into the car and closed the door behind him. He plugged his phone into the aux like normal and started the car, the cool air immediately blasting you in the face which he quickly turned down to a softer setting. Although you couldn't say you didn't appreciate the quick burst of air cooling you down. You gripped the seatbelt over your thighs tightly, staring at your own hands, the veins popping out from under your skin.

Your head jerked quickly over to Geto's side of the car when you heard the familiar clinking of his belt, followed by the sound of the leather sliding out from the belt loops in his pants. "What are you doing?" You asked softly, afraid to raise your voice higher than a whisper. The air around you was quickly heating up, your body too. Geto stayed silent, just a sinister smile on his face as he threw the belt into the back seat and began undoing his belt.

Your eyes were glued to the scene in front of you, you didn't dare take your eyes off his large hands. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent the moan that wanted to escape from between them when Geto lifted his ass off the seat and pulled his pants down to his mid-thighs, exposing his now fully hard cock barely covered by the tiny, flimsy piece of fabric hugging his hips so tightly. Suguru bunched up his shirt in his hands, allowing you to see a little of the black tuft of hair that rested above the base of his cock, letting you see everything unobstructed.

Suguru could feel his cheeks burning under your gaze. His cock twitched and dripped pre-cum from his sensitive tip, wetting his skin. He kept his lidded eyes on yours, watching you watch him. He saw the way your hands gripped the seatbelt tighter as you resisted the urge to pounce on him right then and there. "Do you like it?" Suguru asked, wiggling his hips at you.

You brought one of your hands to your mouth and covered it tightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you took in the sight of his pretty cock. "Fuck... Suguru." You whined behind your hand, pressing your thighs together. You had never thought about something like this before. Suguru wearing your panties? Why would you? But you were starting to think you should have a more creative imagination because this was turning you on more than you thought it would.

Suguru smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose before he reached down with his hand that wasn't holding up his shirt and teased his fingers around the head of his cock. His tip twitched at the stimulation of him rubbing his fingers around it, rubbing his precum all over it. "Tell me what you're thinking," Suguru asked, his smile starting to fade the more his arousal grew, his expression turning more like yours, pure lustful.

You stayed silent, only the loud sounds of your breathing echoing inside the car. "Talk to me baby, did this for you," Geto said, wrapping his hand around the part of his cock that was sticking out of the panties. His balls were barely contained against the thin fabric, they looked ready to fall out at any moment, so strained against it. You were becoming hypnotized watching Geto stroke his cock, watching his chest rise and fall more frequently as he got off on being watched by you.

Your resolve snapped when Geto squeezed his tip firmly on the upstroke and a choked moan was forced from his throat. You unbuckled your seat belt and leaned over the center console in one swift movement, your body resting against it as you rested your hand on Geto's thighs, keeping yourself stable. Geto leaned back when he saw you coming over, almost on instinct, even though neither of you had fooled around in the car before.

You grabbed his hand that was wrapped around his cock with one of your own, forcing him to stroke himself downwards so the tip of his cock poked through the hole his fist was making. You wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and dragging it across his head, before taking his tip into your warm mouth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head and his jaw dropped open in a moan as he felt your tongue swirl around his sensitive cockhead.

"Oh shit..." He groaned, looking down at your head in his lap. You grabbed his wrist and forced him to let go of his dick. Geto obeyed and placed his hand on your lower back, rolling his head against the back of his seat. His other hand rested comfortably on top of your head, fighting to not shove you down on his length.

His breathing had picked up considerably as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head down on him, only taking a couple of inches of him into your mouth at first, letting your saliva collect and pool in your mouth so it felt better for him, and made sucking his off easier for you.

You found his balls through the fabric of the panties blindly and grabbed ahold of them, noticing how strained and tight they felt in the fabric. "Oh fuck baby, f-fuck." Geto groaned, his abs clenching with his arousal as you rubbed his balls through the fabric while sucking him off hands-free. You took the top half of his cock into your hot mouth, leaving the base of his cock still snug behind the panties, it was a sight to see.

"I'll take this as you liked my surprise?" Geto laughed, the sound turning into a breathy moan. You did your best to hum your approval around him, the vibration from the noise you made going straight through his cock, making his fingers dig against your scalp. "Fuck, don't try to talk while it's in your mouth," Geto warned, feeling his balls throb at the vibration.

If your mouth wasn't stuffed full of cock, you would've smiled. Instead, you just doubled your efforts and bobbed your head faster, rolling your tongue all around the length of his cock, all the while still caressing his balls in your warm hand. Geto's hips had started to leave the seat as he thrust shallowly up into your mouth, making his cock hit the back of your throat.

"This feels so. fucking. good." Geto moaned wantonly through his teeth, his lips pursing around them as he spoke. "D-deeper, take it deeper baby, please." You moaned around him again, making him release his own sound of pleasure before you took him deeper into your throat, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to get used to it. The fabric of your panties was rubbing against your lips as you pushed it out of the way with your mouth the deeper you went down on him.

Suguru's groans had turned into gasps and higher-pitched moans at this point. His hand trembled against your head as his body registered all the pleasure you were giving him. You popped off his cock with a small 'ahh' sound, a bit of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock, which you quickly wiped away.

Your arm was weak, but you used all the strength you could muster to push the front half of your body up as you brought your face in front of Geto's. You licked your lips and smiled as you pressed your lips against his, swallowing up his groans as you continued rubbing his balls, his cock twitching from that stimulation alone. Geto pressed the back of your head against him harder, keeping your lips locked with his.

You were almost too busy tangling your tongue with his to feel the constant, repetitive pounding of Geto's hand against your own that was caressing his sack. Cracking your eyes open, you looked down at his crotch and saw Geto jerking himself off furiously, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You were unable to resist staring at the thin black straps of the thong resting on his hips, he looked so fucking sexy it was making it hard to breathe.

"Hey, stop getting distracted," Geto whined breathlessly against your lips, noticing how you stopped kissing him back with the same urgency. You pulled away entirely, making him pout, as he continued stroking himself off while looking at you, his hand that was holding the back of your head caressing down between your shoulders. "I wanna look at you." You said, rubbing his thigh under your hand.

"Take a fucking picture, I need you right now," Geto begged, the saliva and precum on his dick creating the lewdest squelching noise. You raised your eyebrows in surprise before you smiled and tilted your head at him. "You serious?" You asked, feeling another wave of warmth jolt through your body. "Yes, take a fucking picture and put your lips around my cock again. Gonna cum." Geto said urgently, nodding towards his phone under the dash.

You wasted no time in reaching over for it and sliding over the camera. You leaned back a bit to get Geto fully in the frame, smiling to yourself as you hid behind the camera. "Say cheese." You joked, Geto making no effort to stop what he was doing as the flash lit up his body. The second the photo was over, Geto griped your hand holding the phone, and forced it down into the cup holder. "I'm gonna cum." He said breathily, his hand sliding up your back to hold the nape of your neck again, forcing you back down to focus on his cock.

Geto had no idea what had happened, but the second you took a picture of him, his orgasm went from behind five minutes away, to thirty seconds away. Seemed like everyone was finding something about themselves tonight. Geto held the base of his cock for you, keeping his dick steady as you wrapped your lips around him again and replaced his hand. Geto gripped your hand that rested on his thigh, his fingers wrapping tightly under your palm.

"Oh fuck baby, I'm so fucking close." Geto cried, his thighs clenching and unclenching as he felt his orgasm approach. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock as you let his hand control your pace as he curled his fingers into your hair and aided you in bobbing your head on him. "Take it baby take it, s-swallow it all." Geto babbled, his balls twitching under your hand.

"Oh fuck- fuck- fuck-" Geto's voice got higher and higher in pitch, his eyes squeezing firmly shut, his mouth opening in a wide O before his orgasm crashed over him. His body curled in on itself with each wave of his orgasm. "H-hah ahh-" Geto moaned as he felt hot ropes of him shoot out of his balls, immediately being greedily sucked down your throat.

You continued moaning around him as you gripped his hand tighter for support, fighting the coughs and gags that wanted to spill from your throat as he forced his cock full inside your mouth, using your throat to drain his balls completely. You pulled off with a gasp, your hand coming to wipe away the mix of saliva and cum on your lips and cheeks.

Geto's cock had started to soften, and not even then did it fully fit in the panties he was wearing; your panties. You swallowed one last time and sat up, pressing kisses to his Adam's apple, up his chin, and finally finding his lips. Geto kissed your back lazily, his eyes still shut and head resting back against the car seat as he tried to come down from his high, his body limp and shaky.

You smiled and left a small peck on his cheek before you reached down and grabbed his soft cock, feeling it twitch weakly in your hold as you tried to stuff it under the flimsy panties, to no avail of course. You zipped his pants back up, hiding his spent cock away, and tucked his shirt messily into his pants. He looked like he just got the soul sucked out of him.

"You okay?" You asked, sitting back in your seat and caressing his cheek. Geto nodded, his head falling in your direction as he looked at you, eyes lidded and face red. He leaned into your touch, letting your soft hand sooth him further, he looked ready for a nap. "That felt so fucking good, I love you so much." You giggled at his exhaustion and praise.

"I love you too, do you need me to drive?" You asked, your hand falling from his face and resting on his thigh. "Yeah, let me be the passenger princess for once." He replied, nodding at you. "I'll take care of you baby." You smirked, laughing through your nose. Geto smiled before his face scrunched into a discomforted expression, his hips wiggling against the car seat.

You tilted your head at looked at his bottom half in question, "You okay Sugu?" You asked. Geto made a noise of discomfort as he answered before he grabbed at the fabric of his pants on his hips. "I've had a thong shoved up my ass all day. The pleasure made me forget it but now that I'm spent I can feel my ass throbbing." You did your best not to giggle too loud as you laughed behind your hand. "How do you wear these things all the time? They're sexy as hell but if it feels like this I don't know if it's worth it." Geto complained, wiggling against the seat some more.

"Well I'm pretty sure those are waaaay too small on you so... that might have something to do with it." You answered. Now that you thought about it, Geto was s bit more fidgety than usual today. You had chalked it up to him being uncomfortable in such a stiff suit he didn't wear often. Little did you know what the real culprit of his squirminess was.

"I'll get you home asap so we can get those off of you, okay?" You giggled, rubbing his thigh in comfort. Geto made a noise of acknowledgment and gave up on wiggling around in his seat, knowing it was doing nothing for him except maybe making it worse. "But before we do I need to see how good your ass looks in this thong." You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Geto laughed through his nose and made a move to open his door so the two of you could switch seats before he turned back to look at you. "You might cream your panties, but I'll let you look all you want." Something told you he was right and it was going to end in a round two.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 3 months

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ICARUS (XI)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XII

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: Angst, threats, exploitation, described stalking behavior, very dark/toxic modeling standards/expectations, explosions, blood, implied harm/injury, death, plot progression, dirty talk, smut/NSFW, dry humping, semi-public intimacy, light dom/sub dynamics, Nikto likes to be given pet-names because I said so, implied previous breath play/cunnilingus/ p-in-v sex/rough sex/finishing inside, clothed stimulation, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“I’m not going to let you do all of it,” you grumble, rubbing at your thigh with your right hand.

“Walk to me,” Nikto’s dark brow raises from below his mask, pale eyes darting you up and down. “Without your knees shaking.”

Your face flares up, and you bite back a sarcastic comment as the driver of the car walks past, sending a glance to where the Russian packs the back of the vehicle with your bags. Nikto huffs a chuckle as another settles into the trunk, flattening it with his gloved hands.

“Rude,” you mutter, glaring lightly. “You’re getting bold with your words, Nikto.”

“Surely we have failed somewhere,” your guard grunts, trying to scrutinize his talent of fucking you senseless last night. “You are still upright instead of collapsed to the floor. Did I not find that spot inside of your drooling cunt that made you say you would not be able to walk—”

“Okay!” You loudly, raising your hands, breathless in reaction. Your entire body is seemingly being rolled on a spit as waves of fire lick at your neck, and you have to force words out from the dryness of your throat. “I’m going to sit in the car—you have fun packing with your dirty mouth, you brute.”

Nikto hums arrogantly, and the smirk is plainly heard by your ears as they ring in embarrassment. “You did not complain about this mouth hours prior. Nor the tongue, Птичка.”

“Holy hell,” you push a hand into your face, grimacing. Brief shadowed flashes of a half-masked face sitting in the clutch of your legs leave you stuttering wildly. “Nikto!”

Taking a large breath before opening the dark door, you hear that loud hyena bark of a laugh in return, before you slip inside and firmly slam the barrier closed.

“Oh my God,” your response bounces off the windows, but the infectious smile grows steadily over your flesh until it needs to be hidden by your hand, tiny chuckles making your eyes crinkle.

Shaking your head, you settle back and grasp the seat belt, clicking the metal together as the straps pull across your chest securely.

You were going back to Yekaterinburg, but the realization was…less than concerning. There was a sort of liberation in your blood now—something to be proud of even if it was such a small thing.

Your eyes glance behind to the rear window, seeing the great form of Nikto continuing to pack the trunk in your absence, back in his regular gear with the suit in the hands of the stylists. You can’t say you didn’t miss it, but having him return to some semblance of normalcy was calming to you. Home was the destination, first and foremost: back to your trinkets and your treasures, fabric, and soft rugs.

You’d stood up to AMA and the jobs they’d assigned to you. No more parties, you’d told Iakov, who you still hadn’t seen a glimpse of since last night. No calls either. He’d never gotten back to you, but you were sure a hellstorm was brewing above your head.

Lips pull slightly, but the thought is pushed to the back of your mind as just a result of hurt pride. He’d survive.

But you weren’t too sure if you would.

“Home,” you sigh, bringing back your smile forcefully. Even with all the added challenges being back in Yekaterinburg would cause, you can’t help the thrill of your heart at the thought of familiar streets and faces. Your mom wanted to talk, and AMA was getting on you about showing up to the building for a meeting, both to-dos were competing like fighting cats.

You still couldn’t tell which was worse.

The trunk behind you is audibly closed with a heavy hand, the metal of the vehicle moving up and down as Nikto stands back to the sidewalk and rolls his wrist—walking to the door before slipping inside next to you. Cushions dipping, you glance over and tilt your head as Nikto’s knee hits yours, the Russian readjusting his thighs before he grumbles under his breath and glances to the window.

“All set?” You ask, putting your hands into your lap as your foot hits the small crossbody bag on the floor. It holds a few simple items to help pass the travel time—your book, laptop, phone, and a few scrap papers for random notes or doodles.

Nikto nods, glancing over to you. “Make sure you do not forget anything.”

You huff. “I’m good. Trust me, it helps to pack light.”

You’re given a slow blink, the man’s eyelids narrowing. He hums.

“You have brought six bags,” Nikto utters gruffly, hearing his frown on the air.

“And you were very gentlemanly loading all of them,” you grin, sending over your amusement-tight skin as the blank mask offers only numb attention. “Very sweet on me, Big Guy.”

Nikto makes an annoyed sound under his breath, rolling his eyes partially. “You would not survive a deployment. Too attached to your items.”

You laugh. “Sue me for buying things I’d like to keep. C’mon,” your attention moves as Nikto gives a sharp order to the driver to leave, which he does with a glance backward and a sneer at your guard. “You’re meaning to tell me you don’t have anything you want to have near you a lot—something important?”

The bear-like man pauses as he settles back into his seat, the vehicle starting up. He takes a breath, and you see the Kevlar of his chest piece rise and fall. Nikto grunts, seeming to realize he’s staring at you as he pulls his eyes to the glass of the window quickly.

“A handful.”

You sigh before it ends in a soft huff. “Any specifics?” Your interest is obvious.

“None we wish to tell about.” He glances, and seeing your teasing stare, he shifts, scoffs under his breath with no real anger, and shrugs his large shoulders before coming up with a simple answer. “My notebook, then.” Nikto’s eyelids lower, thinking back to the item in the back of his consciousness and the importance it holds. You’d only seen it once, he knows—back when he had written you a grocery list for your penthouse. Hell, if only you could take a glance at the contents now.

Nikto clears his throat, continuing in a deeper tone. “Rag to clean my weapons.”

It’s a small chuckle he gets from you. “Makes sense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them dirty before.”

A steady silence falls before the Russian feels the need to speak again, and in his mind, he replays every word that you’d said to him throughout these fast-paced and eye-opening days. Being near you now was slightly different in a way he couldn’t have anticipated.

Taking in the hues and colors of the city as it goes by swiftly, he frowns and spares you a side-eye as you dig around your bag—seeing your fingers slip out a book and lay it next to you before you flatten out the fabric of your pants. Nikto’s eyes softened gradually, but no one would ever notice unless they knew how to read him as perfectly as a midnight storm: trying to pinpoint where the thunder came from. He clears his throat and blinks, raising a hand to itch at his neck, pushing and pulling at the cover of canvas until his senses level out once more.

He enjoyed last night. Immensely.

In his head, it’s all he can say about it without deeming himself a malleable fool. Some kind-coated idiot who hadn’t seen the betrayal that such a care can bring. Allowing himself to get emotionally involved is a death sentence, and Nikto was always pushing himself to be the perfect image of order. But with you, it was different, or, at least, that was what he told himself. The reminder of your sweat-heavy scent was firm in the back of his nose.

The Russian’s body angles itself, and in a sure movement of his hand, his arm slips across your abdomen and steals the book at your side.

Your attention darts up, your nice shirt pressed right up to your flesh as Nikto’s sturdy arm slides along it like a snake. You mutely watch him, your ribs being rubbed as all at once the man’s roaming grip leaves. Blinking, your heart beats a bit quicker as Nikto brings your book in front of him, tilting his head down to it as you watch.

It was imperative that you remind yourself that having sex with the man didn’t make him yours.

As you watch Nikto’s hidden fingers lightly brush the cover, your eyes follow the way he maneuvers the front to take a glance at the spine, seeing as the dust jacket is gone.

“Crime and Punishment?” The Russian blinks as the car takes a right, slipping along the streets as the houses and buildings start to get more of a distance between them. Nikto looks over at you. “Fyodor Dostoevsky.” He pauses, keeping the book to himself as if trying to understand.

“Aly recommended it,” your face goes heated at the newfound attention on you. “She read it in University.”

“It is good book,” Nikto hums. “Though, I found Notes From Underground more of an interest to me.”

“I’ll have to add it to the list,” you smile softly. “I’ve seen you read a lot when there’s time—do you like it as much as cooking, Nikto?”

That seems to make him think, watching the Russian’s eyebrows pull in minute wonder. You wished you could understand what blue looked like…you were sure his eyes were beautiful. Especially when he was actively attempting to keep the conversation going.

“We have not thought about it much,” he grumbles, flipping your book open to where you had placed a small strip of fabric as a bookmark—Nikto picks the thing up as he speaks. “Both are calming. Good distractions.” He looks at you. “I would not give rank, though there is a time and place for them.”

“Fair,” you breathe, shrugging. You lightly lean into his shoulder, and you hear Nikto grunt as his attention stays like a cat. “But I do have to say I think your cooking might be higher on my personal scale.”

A soft puff of air sneaks out of the mask and Nikto shifts his head down as you elbow the rough material of his gear playfully.

“Добро.” His tone is low, grating as every little ache from last night seems to flare in your muscles. “I…enjoy cooking for you.”

You stare at one another for a moment, getting lost in the intimacy of an open gaze, before you blink quickly and move back, chuckling as your body burns. Like a bird, if you had feathers, they would be puffed up by now.

Nikto watches your fingers fidget in your lap as he twitches his digits against the cover of your book, setting it on his thigh as he spares a look at the driver. The man’s eyes are visible in the mirror, and when they lock, those dark brown orbs dart away as if on fire; blond hair cut close to his scalp.

The ex-soldier watches the back of his head for a few moments, thinking.

Hell, he would be lying by saying that he wasn’t on edge ten times more than he was before. Anyone glancing at you could be the person he’s after—it was maddening to the point of making him obsess over your safety to the tiniest degree.

And yet, there had been no further texted images: no messages or dead birds. No bombs.

Just that one.

‘I know what you did.’

Yes, Nikto thinks, sighing under his breath, you do know. But do you know what we did in that bedroom last night? Why don’t you come and punish me for it? Hm?

“Pathetic,” the Russian whispers to himself, fingering the paper below him until he can peek at the next page to see where you were in the story.

You turn your head from the window, watching gray trees finally begin making a permanent appearance.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Nikto mutters, attention-catching on that point he’d made to himself. Last night. He backtracks, lowering his voice until it’s only you who can hear—side glaring at the driver like a skittish mutt. “You are...” Pale eyes dig, pulling into a narrowed form as if your mind was the same as the book he holds open. Something to be read. “Adequate?”

Your brows pull in. “Why are we whispering?” You ask, keeping the same tone regardless as you lean closer again; both nearly nose to nose.

Nikto glares, but you can’t see his face beginning to slowly change shade.

“We are asking if you are fit for the long ride.”

He sees your eyes blink slowly. “I’m fine…Why wouldn’t I be?”

The Russian stays silent, openly staring without any discernible emotion in his eyes. You hear him take a breath, glancing once more at the driver, before leaning in further. He huffs sharply.

“Are you alright after what we did—” A kiss is placed on Nikto’s hidden cheek as your laughs echo in his ear.

You lean backward a bit, amusement leaking from you. Sparking eyes meet the ex-soldiers, frozen and taken aback with unmoving eyes.

“I’m just joking, I know what you’re asking me,” you tilt your head, smiling as Nikto’s orbs dip to stare as a swirl of emotions moves in his gut. He swallows, unable to look away. “I’m fine,” you mutter, feelings softening to a bashfulness. “Nothing to worry about…I don’t break easily.”

“Hm,” Nikto’s form returns to where it was previously, and you can tell he’s blushing, even if you can’t see his face or name the shade he would be. Yet, he’s still as blunt as ever as the smirk comes back into his voice. “...Are we sure, Птичка?”

“Bastard,” you huff, motioning with a hand as the Russian almost purrs at the dirty banter. Your finger points to him as you unclick your seatbelt, shifting so you can put your head into his lap similar to how you had on the drive here. Looking up, smug eyes stare down—your finger in his face making him want to grab at it as a dog does fresh meat. He still remembers how your skin tastes; he’s not too far gone to admit he doesn't like how he’s addicted to it.

“You’re getting confident now.”

“We were always confident,” he grates through his accent. “You’ve given us something to battle your need to annoy me with.”

“I like to call it teasing,” you smirk and Nikto’s leather gloves grasp at your neck carefully, making you pause as your eyes widen. Instinctually, you open the skin more to him, head tilting back and legs shifting over the seats to break open before you stop yourself with a small gasp.

Those sand-paper laughs make your thighs close in on themselves as you glare weakly, face lighting up with pure embarrassment as Nikto’s fingers squeeze. You’re ashamed at the pulse of your core. A dog in heat.

There’s a face in your ear.

“One good fuck has you trained, hm?”

“I’ve had better,” you try to hiss, one eye going to the oblivious driver. A second hand moves your book to the floor before it grabs at your thigh, going to pry it open with fat fingers. You strangle a gasp, biting at your lips as you squeak at the sensitivity. “Nikto,” you breathe in warning.

A palm cups your core, and you strangle the limb as the heel is rubbed against your clothed clit. He finds it with no trouble at all: already having you memorized.

You hear Niktto’s heavy breaths—his pulsing grip at your neck as you fight a whimper and your eyes flutter. Your pelvis starts grinding downward in broken stutters, and the Russian leaves his hand there, body completely hanging over you as he stares at the back of the driver's head, wanting to lick the flesh beside your ear, and for the first time, damning his mask.

“Have you, yes?” Nikto wonders, words so steady no one would imagine what was taking place. “Hm. Maybe we will have to leave you alone next time, Little Bird. Get you to find someone else who gets you to scream like I have. Do you remember it?”

Your panties are soaked, and the fluids leak out onto your pants as you continue to rut into Nikto’s gloved palm, back arching over the bulk of his thigh to push your body over his lap, getting a better angle as your guard follows. You listen, and Nikto’s getting harder by how your spine runs its vertebrae over his clothed dick. He jerks once or twice up into it, not above fucking you in front of someone else if this escalates any further. As long as you keep your eyes on him when you cum.

He likes hearing the small noise you make as your orgasm hits.

Nikto breathes, finishing his sentence as you get yourself off to his palm like a good little charge, “How you pleaded for my cum inside of you, Seraph?”

Your cunt flutters, wildly sensitive from last night enough to a point where every grind of your hips felt like Nikto’s cock was still bullying its way in and out of you.

“You cried, yes? As we were bouncing you up and down? How many rounds did that pretty cunt take as you took me so well? Four? Пять? Шесть? Oh, Птичка.” Nikto glances down at your work, smirking as his scars pull tight at the image of the slick over his glove. You were drenched—he almost felt bad. Almost.

“No, we know better than to play with my meal.” He burrows his face into your neck, beginning to let his hand move up and down as your thighs shake, he knows that feeling—that little tell of yours. “No one makes that pussy as wet as I do.”

“Shit,” you whisper, eyes rolling back and your throat tight with the fight between rabid moans and curses. Have to be quiet.

Your flinching eyes worriedly darted to the driver, who still hasn’t looked back at the two of you at all. If anything, the idea of getting caught…well, your hand sneaks down to Nikto’s wrist, pushing him even closer as his smooth chuckles mar your eardrums.

You whine under your breath as you force his palm into you, angling it just right against your clit before your eyes start to roll back in broken increments—lighting making your back arch and toes curl. There are tiny squeaks from the leather seats, but nothing else.

“Good,” Nikto pants, rubbing his erection into your back. “Tell us we are right.”

“You’re right,” you hurriedly whisper to him. “So wet for you, Baby.”

His eyes spark, and he ruts a bit harder, making you stifle a squeak. “Say it again,” he orders, eyes glinting inside of his sockets.

“Baby,” you wince, legs trying to suck in his fingers as your thighs close and rub into them harder. “Nikto, Baby,” your teeth mark your lips heavily.

His shaky breath in your ear accompanies you as your eyes roll back and your spine arches, and, part of a sharp noise exits your mouth as your orgasm hits you, before the hand at your neck sloppily places itself over your drooling lips.

Layers of electricity playing through your weeping cunt, you fight for breath out of your nose as your eyes glaze over, head partially hanging off of Nikto to the seat below as your legs slowly stop their thrusts.

A minute or two passes before your guard leans back, taking his hands off of you and grunting in masochistic pleasure as the ache of his untreated erection still grinds itself into your back slowly—almost torture in the way it keeps him aroused and unable to soften.

Nikto’s grip finds your stomach after he can feel his dick leaking out into his underwear, making a cold mess against his flesh. In a hidden idea, he pushes his hand down into you so he has a better angle to thrust against a firm surface, letting his head connect with the back of the seat as he fucks up into you with his flexing thighs and clenched jaw.

Your eyes pull open to watch him, your mouth half open as your study of his panting chest falls to how you can nearly feel the way his cock drags. He doesn't care at all about anything else about how it feels to get off against you—it’s not as good as finishing inside of your cunt, but he can imagine the warm walls well enough as he begins to make cut-of groans in his chest. Using you like a doll, your wide gaze stays stuck on the sight like glue.

“I am going to fuck you in your bed,” Nikto sighs, only telling himself as he’s still violently aware of the audience he keeps. “Use that penthouse as an excuse to lay you out on every surface. Yes, fuck you good. Keep you and your soft body pleased with every drag of my cock.”

Yet, he’s less concerned with the driver’s eyes now that you’ve cum in his hand—his sex appetite is strong, just as his regular one is; embarrassment is a myth to him regarding it. How many times had he resorted to locking himself in a bathroom when he was in the military, just to jerk off while watching in the mirror as thick ropes of cum splattered his chest? How many sneaked sessions in his barracks until his eyes would roll back, and he had to grind into a pillow with the cold stains of previous loads making him moan?

As long as he could see your eyes looking into him, he could bust just by a touch at his crotch.

Nikto strangles a low groan, shudders violently, and then his thighs stop—sag, and he pants, going limp against the seat. The spurts of his orgasm leaves wet patches in his pants, and he can imagine it pooling, instead, out of your pussy as it should be.

The both of you lay in the sopping remnants of your insatiable lust, leaking out to one another, and only think about what you both can have once you’re back in Yekaterinburg and alone.

Maybe there won’t be a meeting with AMA or my mom, you think as Nikto rubs a thumb down your cheek—letting your eyes slip shut softly as your nostrils flare with every breath. He hums in satisfaction, petting your thigh as he massages your inner leg.

Maybe we’ll fuck so much we’ll end up forgetting our names instead.

Hell, it didn’t sound like a bad idea at all.

—

Halfway through Nikto’s audible reading of Crime and Punishment—in which he sometimes lapsed into Russian rambles in the middle of a sentence—you shift against the seat and mutter out a question.

“So, he’s going to try to get away with murder?”

Nikto pauses in his speaking, looking over from the page as his mask shines into the light. It’s a little past noon if you had to guess. “Да.” Nikto’s brows furrow. “We are four chapters in—have you just noticed?”

“You’ve been speaking in Russian for the last fifteen minutes.”

Nikto curses under his breath, glaring at you incredulously after he closes the book with a single hand. “Why did you not say?”

You smile slowly. “It sounded nice?”

The man sighs out loud, bringing up a hand to push into the plate at his nose in a funny display of exasperation. A laugh makes its way out of your mouth, and you shake your head.

“It’s alright—I don’t mind. I just like listening to your voice.”

“Hm,” Nikto looks at you, huffing, but you can tell he takes it to heart by the way his shoulders sag a small bit. “You are strange, Woman.”

“As I’ve been told,” you breathe, chuckling. “You’ll re-read it to me later?”

The Russian’s head tilts to the side. “In русский or English?”

Your eyes glint, your smirk rising, and you let the question sit in the air until Nikto’s eyes pull in understanding the longer you stare at him.

He hums deep in his breast, gaze molten heat.

“Русский, then. Да, I will not complain if you enjoy it, Птичка.”

You call out breathily as you stare into his eyes, “Thank you, Baby.”

Nikto’s spine goes rigid, and before you can snort you slap a hand to your mouth and level your head to the window, body shaking with muffled laughter.

“Нелепый,” the man growls out, pushing at the fabric of his crotch and shifting his abdomen as your loud snort slips out. “You are much too confident in your abilities now—”

The car begins to shake and the driver curses out loud.

Immediately, all teasing is cut like a blade as Nikto’s eyes slash forward: slitted.

Both of your attention is locked onto the driver as he snaps in Russian, banging a hand to the wheel as your body pauses.

“Nikto?” You ask the question under your breath.

Your guard slips forward in his seat, grasping the back of the driver’s seat and growling out a low question in his native tongue. He only looks over his shoulder to you after a long and heated discussion.

“He says the vehicle is not acting correctly.”

“Not acting correctly?” Your face pulls, form getting more rigid as the car veers off the main road to the side, grumbling like an animal as the hood shakes. “Why? How? It was working just fine yesterday.”

“I do not know,” Nikto utters, eyes narrowing. He glances at you, tension growing in his spine. “Keep near us. Do not leave my sight.”

“Right,” you nod, ears twitching as the driver parks the car and gets out in a huff, barking expletives and waving his hands. A sliver of nervousness slips into your blood.

Nikto has a bad feeling.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up as he pops the door open, hearing his boots hit the asphalt as he breathes out. Standing to his full height, he keeps the fuming driver in the corner of his pale vision, holding the barrier open for you and keeping you from the mostly vacant road as a car passes quickly.

“Slowly,” Nikto mutters, grabbing at your arm to make sure your lack of coordination didn’t send you to an early death.

You give him a small smile, and he stares for longer than he should before the Russian blinks, holding you away from open traffic—his body keeps itself nearest to the road as you both move to the hood.

“That can’t be good,” you murmur with a raised brow as the driver smacks the vehicle, waving his hand in front of his face as a thin tendril of dark smoke mists through the air like a grim cloud.

“No,” Nikto stares, his fingers sliding along the fabric of your shirt—curling just at the small of your back. “It can not.” His unimpressed voice carries over the area as another car passes.

You stare lightly after, knowing it’s the second vehicle that belongs to AMA just by the make and model; especially by the license plate. It carries a number of personnel—most likely Iakov, your stylists, and a photographer or two. The car sees that you’re stopped, slows, and also pulls off the road a large distance ahead.

“At least we’ll have another ride if this can’t be fixed,” you comment as you and your guard join the driver, Nikto grunting in Russian with an order to stop denting the car’s frame. A sigh slips your lips and you stretch carefully—raising your arms above your head and hearing your bones cracking. “Won’t be stranded,” you end in a strained voice before you sigh in relief and relax.

As Nikto and the driver descend into clipped words, your phone rings from inside the vehicle. Blinking, your body is quick to shuffle the way back and snatch the thing out, retreating to the grass to the right of the scene and a small way away—it’s still easy to see how Nikto keeps an eye on you, however.

With his comment yesterday about a new picture from the stalker, you weren’t keen on being away from him either. The thought makes your skin crawl, but you know you’re better off never seeing whatever the contents had been…you’d already seen enough of that freak’s ‘pictures’ to last a lifetime.

Answering the call, you push the phone to your ear. “Seraph,” you say, half-facing the road and half to the tree line. Your drive back home had barely started—already you’d run into trouble? These last few months were continually stacking on top of one another for the top ten worst moments in your life.

Galina’s voice pushes through.

“Where are you currently?”

Your face loosens, brows twisting. “Driving back to Yekaterinburg now, we just ran into some car trouble,” you pause, seeing Nikto going to open the hood but being stopped by the driver, who seems to think he can do it himself without any help at all. “...Is there something going on?”

Nikto only breaks away in attention to look over to you every so often, his fingers twitching and shoulders wound up under all that gear.

Why is he so tense? You have to ask yourself in curiosity before your guard’s head snaps to where others from the second car spill out, beginning walking to you three—coming to help like little trees down the line of asphalt.

Running your free hand over the back of your skull, as always, Nikto’s nervousness makes you tense; especially when he shifts his hand to brush his beretta like that. That dark void of a mask is permanently stuck giving you half of a glare, and you can perfectly imagine his jaw clenching.

But everybody here was trustworthy, weren’t they?

Iavov’s shorter stature makes its way forward quicker than the others, calling out words that you can’t hear. He holds something in his hands, and it glints in the light.

Galina spares no chance to breathe between rapid clipped sentences.

“Sergi has had to be released from custody—Yaromir and I have little concern he was involved in anything that resulted in harm to another. We can not keep him.” You had expected that; it wasn’t surprising. “But he mentioned something that I believe you should know before you return.”

“What is it?” Your voice is low, concerned as Iakov and the rest raise their words. Nikto barks at them in Russian to stay where they are as his eyes glint dangerously for no discernible reason. The driver shifts his fingers away from the hood as you begin shuffling closer as well, spine straight with tension.

The air was alive with a cord ready to snap.

“He mentioned something about knowing a man who works at Allurement in an off comment when he didn’t realize he was being recorded.”

Your feet speed up to the car almost instinctively.

“Who?”

“We were unable to push for a name. Sergi got far too nervous and shut down on us; there was little left to do. But there’s another thing.”

Heart pattering, you call to Nikto stiffly, seeing him only hold a hand out to tell you to not come any closer. You frown, disregarding the concern, and are now about five feet away from the car and eager to figure out what’s wrong with it so you can leave—you feel eyes on you, and in a paranoid moment, your vision darts to the approaching group of six. Closer now.

“Seraph,” Nikto grinds out. “Stay there. There is something that we do not like about—”

Galina’s continued explanation interrupts your Russian just as the driver gets the hood finally open with a loud call of victory. You blink, your fingers over the phone gripping the device like a woman strangling a knife while facing a home intruder.

“Sergi was spotted disposing of multiple cameras by way of selling them off to anyone who would take them all over the city. We’re trying to track down the buyers, but we don’t believe the cameras were his to begin with. He’s hiding evidence for someone.”

There’s a bright spark that makes your eyes flinch shut like you’d been staring into the sun. Head snapping to the side, you cover your face with a heavy hiss as you halt in your tracks, stepping back as Nikto’s loud voice carries.

“Seraph!” You startle, legs dragging across the ground. “Get down! Немедленно!”

“—There is reason to believe that Sergi has a close connection and a willingness to protect whoever is behind these events. Perhaps even the evidence from the explosion at the bakery was tampered with—”

The car bursts into an inferno just as Nikto’s body connects with yours.

Meeting the ground hard, the man rolls along with you as the air is snatched from your lungs and skin whipped by fire—the sound of screeching metal so loud that the resounding ringing in your ears is immediate as debris whizzes past your head.

In the exit of all air from your lungs, your phone is lost as you gasp sharply.

There’s a sting of pain across your face—in your arm as well as Nikto drapes himself over you with a firm bark of a gut-twisting curse, gripping and dragging you until you’re stapled to his chest.

Far above, the screaming and the sizzle of flesh all melt together into the image of a gray sun. Smoke wafts away on a slow breeze, and the body of a panting man above you is voided until null even as hands pull you from him to stare down at you—at the crimson blood that he can see in such vivid detail.

There’s only the sensation of him calling your name frantically before it all gets sucked into oblivion around pale, horribly panicked eyes.

TAGS:

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shebreathedherlast · 3 months

Text

Daughter of the Sea

Part I

Done For

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Summary: You wanted glory but Luke already had it. You have no option but to take it from him.

Word Count 1.3k

TW: Violence, weapons, blood

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

Tearing through the forest your legs carried you as fast as you could go. This was the day. You needed this win. The wind flew through your hair as you ran. You were in enemy territory now, and that meant you had to be on high alert.

As an unclaimed half-blood you needed a way, anyway to prove your worth. And since camp offered glory you figured you might as well take it. You would've long ago if it wasn’t for Camp Half Blood’s designated golden boy, Luke Castellan. In your mind, he could be labelled by anything besides “the golden boy.” Luke was overwhelmingly competitive. He fought hard to earn the place of the “best swordsman at camp.” But even harder to keep it.

Living in close quarters with him for a little over a year, you had learned Luke’s best and worst qualities, and he did have many bad qualities.

For one Mr. Golden Boy, all but self-assumed the role of head counsellor. He just saw an opportunity for power and took it without question. When you thought about it, it did make sense. Luke wanted control because being a half-blood, a tool for the gods was all but a freeing life. You never had any say, no control, no power.

Luke might have enjoyed power, but you craved it in your very soul.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

Your sword rang out with a clang when it met your opponent’s blade. You would earn glory, even if you had to claw it from between the fist of Luke himself.

With another swift blow, your opponent was down. Sprawled on the ground, trying to regain his breath. The boy, Chris, was supporting his body weight by placing his elbows on the ground beneath him. You had disarmed him and now you were holding your knife against his throat.

“They should call you the wraith, with the way you sneak up on people.” Chris said, a chuckle muffed by his inhale of breath.

“That sounds so extra.” You shiver, “Not my style.”

A voice flitted through the air behind you, “That sound’s like it’s exactly your style, Chaos.”

You groaned in annoyance. “I was supposed to hunt you down, Castellan, you took all the fun out of this.”

Luke rolled his eyes at you. He contended with a raise of his brows, “Well, it looks like I was the one who caught you by surprise.”

You laughed at that. Did Luke really believe he could sneak up on you? “I could hear you coming from a mile away with your loud footsteps. You’re about as subtle as an elephant, Castellan.”

By now Chris was shifting his weight to get up. Noticing this, you pulled a knife from your boot and threw it in his direction. Chris froze, knife pinning his shirt to the ground.

“Stay down Chris.” Was all you said before turning your attention back to the boy in front of you. Christ obeyed, not moving an inch, in fear that your patience would wear thin. After all Luke could handle himself right? It wasn’t a hidden fact that for the better part of an entire year, you had been on the hunt for glory… specifically, the same glory that made Luke Castellan the camp-proclaimed “Golden Boy.”

“I’m going to enjoy humbling you, chaos.”

You scoffed, “In your dreams Castellan.”

And with that, your weapons clashed. Metal against metal, blade against blade. You had sparred with Luke many times before, he claimed you were the only one who could actually “put up a fight.” Every other time Luke had bested you. Your fights would last hours on end, each of you refusing to let the other assume victory. But, he always had this ability to fight without emotion. Anger never made him sloppy. You on the other hand. You used your anguish and pain to fuel you. It was both a blessing and a curse. You had the drive to fight till the end, but your rage could make you careless. Not today. You would keep your head on this time. You would win glory, one way or another.

He had his sword pointed to your chest, in response you raised your knives to push against his blade. You spun out of his reach and delivered a kick from behind. Luke stumbled forward as he tried to regain his stance. You wasted no time in lightly sinking your blade into his bicep. He hissed in pain.

“Chaos,” Luke groaned at the painful contact of your knife.

You snickered, “Ready to give up Castellan?”

He faced you head-on this time, “Never.”

Luke brought down his sword with such force, you thought the ground might have trembled. You held your daggers against his sword, preventing the weapon from piercing your skin. But he was stronger than you. Your arms weakened and he saw this as an opportunity to push down harder. Realizing this, you attempted to evade the sword, tumbling to your side, but the blade cut the flesh of your shoulder. Blood seeped out from the wound, coating your orange camp shirt in a deep crimson.

You drew a sharp breath, instinctively pressing your hand to the injury.

“That was way deeper than the nick I gave you.” You said through gritted teeth.

A brief look of concern filled Luke’s eyes before they glassed over with a dim look. His eyes darkened when he remembered that you wanted his glory.

“Get up and fight me, Chaos. Don’t you want my glory?” He taunted.

Your hand slid from your wound, readjusting the blades in your hands. “I will have your glory, Castellan, even if I have to kill myself trying.”

Luke’s eyes drank in your appearance. Eyes wild, hair falling from your ponytail. Knives in your grasp. And the determination radiating off you. This time was different from almost every other. You were determined to beat him, and loss wasn’t even a possibility. You and Luke always fought, both with blades and with words. And though he tried, he couldn’t deny that he started to find your anger increasingly more…attractive.

You swept his legs from under him, fighting for dominance as you straddled his waist. He wrested you off his frame as you grabbed his arm with the sword. You shifted your weight on his body as you reached for Luke’s sword. And at this, you could’ve sworn you had heard him inhale sharply.

Luke finally managed to push you off of him. He stood, holding his sword to your throat. The prospect of glory was fleeing from you and you would not accept it. You needed it, you craved it. With one last effort, you dropped your weapons, placing your hands on the belly and top of the sword. Luke stood fixed, too bewildered to calculate his next movements. The metal dug into your palms as you twisted your arms, disarming Luke in his confusion. You elbowed him in the shoulder, hearing a pristine popping noise before tackling him to the ground and pressing your forearm to his throat.

“Yield.” You spoke, breathlessly.

Luke simply nodded, seeing as he was defenceless and now his limbs were rendered useless.

A victorious smile reached your lips. You lifted your body off of his and reached the blue flag. Taking it in your bloody hands you ran to the boarder of the teams, firmly placing it on the soil of the read team.

Your fellow teammates let out a victorious yell. Even the conceited ares champion, Clarisse gave you a nod of approval. Near the lake a halo blue tridant appeared over your head, claiming you as Poseidon's child. You had achieved much more than glory. You had been seen by your father. After over a year of trying to earn your godly parent's favor, you had finally given your father something to be proud of.

As Luke and Chris walked back from their assigned station, they could see the glorious smirk that painted your features.

Yes, after that encounter Luke Castellan was definitely done for.

----

A/n This will become a series.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #luke castellan smut #percyjackson #rick riordan #charlie bushnell #walker scobell #x reader #reader insert #pjo series #f!reader #daughter of the sea

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asumofwords · 9 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, violence, fear, anxiety, PTSD, mentions of rape.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Full speed ahead from here... Buckle the fuck in my babies, let's get this show on the road! I think we all knew that something was coming and here we are... Rapid fire posting from here on out, are you ready? Again, as always, thank you, thank you, thank you all so very much for all your love and continued support! You guys have made writing this so much fun! <3

Chapter 97: Consequences

The sun rose slowly that morning, the room being cast in its gentle warm glow.

Shadows danced across the wall, growing larger with every hour that passed, and every crawling step that the sun took to get higher and higher in the sky.

You laid as you were, nestled beneath the sheets, with your hand still reaching for the blade Aemond had gifted you upon his departure.

Always ready.

Always waiting.

For him.

The maids woke alongside the sun, stretching long arms above their bodies to straighten their spines, vertebrae’s clicking into place and aches settling into their muscles after sleeping on chaises and chairs for many nights straight.

They rose, and helped you rise, dressing you in a deep black and red skirt, with a black leather bustier top. The shoulders were cuffed with metal, with long dripping hoops of chains that pressed cooly against the bare skin of your arms. The neck was high fitting, and splayed outwards like dragon wings.

As you sat at the table, waiting for the two girls to bring you food to break your fast, Amala entered first, a short bow, and the quietest of apologies on her tongue. The action caused panic to rear its ugly head within you, and so you darted your head backwards towards the bed, seeking out the place you knew the blade to be hidden, with your eyes.

Movement in your periphery, you turned your head, and met the deep brown eyes of Alicent Hightower, dressed in an even deeper green gown, tight arms and stiff neck, standing in your chambers.

“Good Morrow, Princess.” She greeted you, hands clasped gently at her front.

Your brows twitched as you looked at her, “Alicent.”

The Dowager Queen walked towards you slowly, “I thought I might join you to break our fasts together.”

You blinked at the Hightower. Her hair was half up, half down, pinned away from her face in a thick braid that Helaena used to wear across the top of her scalp, auburn wisps curling away from her face, escaping the style.

You opened your palm towards Aemond’s empty seat. A silent invitation to join you. A motion for her to sit. An unlikely guest in your chambers whom you had no real power to turn away.

A guest in whom you had to welcome regardless of the desire to slit her throat.

Alicent moved slowly, as though she was floating across the stones. Her feet did not make sounds as she walked, an entirely silent ordeal that made you see Alicent in Aemond in more ways than you had thought before.

Both having to have been seen and not heard. Quiet and dutiful. It was all there, the reflection of a mother in her son. The silent resentment of all those around. The even quieter pain that lingered behind the pairs eyes, pain from duty, pain from having no voice, pain from being trapped to the shadows of men before them.

Pulling out her chair, she seated herself down, eyes flicking about the chambers in inspection.

What she was looking for, you did not know.

It was not long until Joanna, helped by Amala, brought in the food and plates for the both of you. It was as if the Queen had planned this breakfast, and that it was not at all as spur of the moment as she wished it to seem.

Alicent Hightower was always making calculated moves.

You wondered what this one was for.

“And how are you?” She asked gently, thanking the girls as they bowed and left the chambers for you to be alone with the older woman.

You cleared your throat, serving yourself a plate of food as you stared at her. You let out a deep sigh through your nose and responded, “I have been better.”

There was no point in lying to her, nor did you wish to soothe any anxieties she, in your opinion, was most likely to have. And though you wished to have nothing to do with the woman seated opposite you, there was no denying the similarities that you both shared. The combined struggle that the both of you would understand, even wordlessly.

You were both women.

Alicent mirrored your actions, serving herself a plate of eggs, toast and cooked tomatoes, “It seems to be something we can all agree on.”

You blinked at her.

“What happened to you,” She began, hands placed delicately in her lap, which you knew to mean she was picking at the skin of her nails, “Was a horrific set of unforeseen circumstances. The Gods-“

“Unforeseen.” You hummed, picking up your goblet of fresh juice taking a sip, “Unforeseen for myself and Aemond, perhaps. But the King and his Council knew that I was to be brought to the Throne Room that day. You knew.”

Alicent cut herself a piece of toast, smearing egg onto its crispy surface, “I had cautioned the King against such an-“

“Alicent, you could not caution an ant if you wished.” You breathed, cutting into your own toast with far more vigour than needed.

“Aemond was not privy to know-“

“As I am now aware.” You swallowed the bread thickly, “Please be transparent about your coming today.”

Alicent’s doe-y features hardened, and the calculating serpent you had become accustomed to, was revealed to the room, though her eyes still stayed soft, “I came to speak to you about my son.”

“Which one? The rapist, my husband, or the corpse?”

The reminder of Daeron set Alicent’s teeth on edge, jaw clenched as she stared at you, “Aemond.” She grit out.

“My husband then." You gave her a clipped smile, "What did you need to speak to me of, which you could no doubt ask him yourself? Do you not have a better relationship with him than I?”

“I wished to hear it from your own lips.”

“My lips have said many things about your sons, my husband especially. What does the famed Green Queen want to know?” You sighed, munching on some star fruit as the Lady Alicent Hightower struggled to keep her frustrations at bay.

“Do you love him?”

You laughed.

You didn’t mean to.

But you just did.

Alicent was not impressed, and seemed all together confused.

“If I did not love him, I would not be here still.”

“You would. It is a marriage-“

“-I would have thrown myself from the window like Helaena if I did not, or ripped his throat out with my teeth..." You paused, "Or yours."

It was blunt.

Raw.

And hurt the both of you.

You strummed your fingers against the table loudly, looking down as you contemplated your next words.

“I love him. That is the truth of it. A sick and twisted truth if anything, but something I could have never fought. The Gods made us for each other. It is known. But my love for him does not outweigh the hurt he has inflicted upon me. He is still a Kinslayer.”

Alicent tilted her head, leaning back in her chair, chestnut waves falling over her shoulder, “As are you." One singular eyebrow raised, "I think you seem to forget.”

“How can one forget a life one took?" You spoke flatly, disinterested in the actions of the past, "My only consolation was that it was war when I did it. Aemond however, pushed the first piece on the board to start the others that fell. Like mother, like son.”

Alicent ate another piece of her eggs daintily, lifting to her lips with her fork, before swallowing, “The both of you are Kinslayers, acursed in the eyes of the people.”

You gave her a toothy grin, “Then what better way than to have those who are acursed as Kinslayers to be wed to each other. It would surely bring damnation and shame to any other husband or wife and their House, but the Gods made it so that we are together as one. In actions. In sin. In love. A small mercy really.”

Alicent gave an uneven smile, placing her cutlery back onto her plate, “It's strange, I must admit. The predicament we find ourselves in. But if anything, I am glad that it was you. That meek Baratheon girl would not have survived my son, I'm afraid.”

You frowned, and Alicent continued, “I would have no better match for Aemond. You have both always loved each other. You know each other better than anyone else, and at times, though it pains me to admit it, you know my son better than I do. You see him. All of him. The good and the bad. My parts that played in it, and yours. And I believe the Seven helped to bring you together.”

“It was the Old Gods, not the Seven.”

Alicent merely stared at you for a time, picking her napkin up to dab at her lips before placing the napkin back on the table, “With any luck, Aemond should return soon.” She stood, pushing her chair back as she smoothed out her skirts.

“Godspeed.” You prayed, and watched as she bowed and left your chambers.

You finished your breakfast without the presence of the Dowager Queen, and when you were done, you made your way down to the Library to read.

When you entered the Library it was quiet and still, with one lone servant stoking the flames in the large fireplace, placing three to four large logs inside carefully.

As they heard your entrance, they bowed at the hip, keeping their face to the ground before they scuttled out of the room like a rodent.

You perused the isles of books for some time, fingers tracing over the worn spines, and dusted covers. Leather and embroidered tomes combined. As you came to one isle in particular, you thought back on the way Aemond had taken you against the shelves, face diving between your folds, his tongue lapping at you feverently before spearing you upon his cock.

Your core clenched at the memory.

Picking a tome at random, you pulled the heavy leather bound book from the shelf, making your way to seat yourself before the fire as you opened it up in your lap. The first page was worn, and faded, but the script was slanted beautifully by a careful hand.

‘Maegor the Cruel, The Usurpation of Aegon the Uncrowned, and The Seven Faith Militant. A History.’

You had picked quite the intense read, but began it nonetheless.

‘Maegor the First was the son of King Aegon the First and his eldest sister-wife, Queen Visenya Targaryen. Maegor was born of fire and blood, the prodigy of Aegon the Conqueror, A King who laid waste to all the realms who did not bend the knee on the back of Balerion the Black Dread. Maegor the Cruel had an older half-brother, Aenys the First, who was said to be a fair and just Prince.’

The day floated by as you read the history of Maegor and his violent rise to power.

‘Maegor had six wives, to which the Faith strongly rebuked, polygamy a sin in the eyes of the Seven Faith. Ceryse Hightower, and Alys Harroway - who was later killed by his third wife Tyanna of the Tower. Then, there were the Black Brides; Elinor Costayne, Jayne Westerling, and his niece, Rhaena Targaryen.’

The warmth of the fire settled over you gently, and your eyes excitedly read each page as you got more and more into the violence of the Cruel King. You had read the history once before, but you had been young and under the Septa’s supervision, which made learning about him boring and irksome.

By now you had gotten half way through the tome.

‘At the death of his father, Aegon the First, his brother Aenys ascended the throne. Maegor was still exiled for his sins in marrying a second wife, and soon after his ascent to the Iron Throne, King Aenys passed. Maegor seized the throne, and crowned himself King. Yet his rule would not be an easy one. Some moons later, Prince Aegon, Maegor’s nephew, laid claim to the Iron Throne, as was his birth right.’

The sound of the library doors echoed in the chambers, but you did not raise your head.

‘Prince Aegon’s claim was supported by several Lords of the Westerlands and Riverlands, and so the Prince marched at the head of an army, fifteen thousand men strong. Queen Tyanna, Maegor’s third wife and the Mistress of Whispers, warned that Maegor's allies would turn on him for his nephews claim if there was show of his prevail. In the Battle Beneath The Gods Eye, Maegor and Aegon’s armies clashed, and fought in a bloody and brutal battle. Men were slain from their horses by archers and swordsman, dragon fire lay waste to hundreds of men, the earth under The Gods Eye was soaked with blood, and many soldiers sank into its red mud. Though it came to an end, Maegor slew his nephew and his dragon Quicksilver, tearing them from the sky on the back of the mighty Black Dread. Maegor the Cruel was thenceforth known for his cruelty and labeled a Kinslayer.’

“Princess, Y/n.” A voice pulled you from your book. Your eyes lifted from the page to meet Ser Criston Cole’s.

You straightened your back, looking to the two guards who flanked him either side, feeling a strange sense of dejavu from the scene before you.

“Ser Cole.” You greeted him warily, placing the book atop the table in front of you and standing, body ready to take flight.

Ser Criston lifted his head high, “King Aegon has requested for your presence in the Throne Room.”

You blinked, and you stomach did a small flip, fear rising in your throat.

“And I suppose these guards are there to enforce my presence?”

The two men shifted, their armour scratching against each other, eyes aimed at the wall behind you.

Ser Cole breathed, “No, My Lady.”

“Then tell the King I am busy.” You moved to sit back down, but Ser Cole took a step forward towards you.

It was clear then, that there was no real choice.

Not that you ever had one in the Keep.

It was not a casual invitation that they would like you to believe it was, much like Alicent's breaking her fast with you that morning, but they were not dragging you to the Throne Room, kicking and screaming as they did last time.

It did little to soothe your wrought nerves, but it was at least something.

The small voice in the back of your head screamed that it would be another Maester situation. Your intuition told you to run. Your baser instincts told you to fight.

But what if it was one of the maids?

Panic shot through you, and so you nodded, walking across the room, feeling as though each step further settled your doom. But you could not leave them. If it was one of the maids, if Larys had discovered them, you would not abandon them now in their time of need.

Ser Cole bowed his head to you, holding the door open before he began to lead you to the Iron Throne, the two guards walking closely behind you, ready to snatch you if you so chose to run.

Each step of the men was a shuffle of robes and armour, and you watched the sword on Ser Criston’s side sway heavily with each step, its long blade tapping the side of his thigh.

Each sway reminded you of how Aegon’s hand had swung down, separating the old mans head from his neck. How your Grandsire's blade had tipped at Aegon's side as he descended the steps of the Iron Throne to stand before you.

The blood.

So much blood.

On you.

On the stones.

You wondered for a moment, if the stain would still be there, or if they had tasked some poor servants to scrub it out of the porous surface as though their lives depended on it.

You tried to steady your breathing. Counting each step as you saw the large doors to the Iron Throne. Fifty-one. Fifty-Two. Fifty-Three. Fifty-Four.

Kings guards opening the heavy wood doors with steel bracketing along its face to let you in.

Ser Cole walked ahead of you announcing you to the chambers, as you held your hands behind you, fingers digging sharply into the flesh of your palm. The King Maker voiced boomed as you looked to Aegon, who was seated upon the throne, lazily leaning on one side with his chin in his palm, as though summoning you back to the Throne Room was a chore and a bore.

The Small Council were about the chambers, dressed in their robes and House colours, watching you with careful and guarded eyes, though nervousness shifted their bodies.

And there, beside the throne, once again, was Aemond.

His presence did little to settle your nerves.

It was happening again.

Gods, please, help me.

Aemond's gaze had snapped to you as soon as you had entered, and although he stood tall and stiff, hands behind his back and face impassive, your presence had clearly come as a surprise.

Again.

Aemond looked blindsided.

Completely at a loss as to why you were there, and it showed in his eye.

The Prince looked as though he had only just arrived back in Kings Landing, dressed still in his riding leathers, hair pulled back and away from his face by braids, and lips pressed into a thin line. His brows had furrowed as he looked at you.

But Aemond hadn’t come straight to you as he usually did.

Something was amiss.

“Husband,” You called out to him, schooling your voice to hide the rising panic, “I am gladdened to see you hale and hearty and returned home.” You gave him a small smile, and turned to the King, “You requested my presence, Your Grace?”

Aegon did not smile at you.

He did not even sneer.

The King merely stared at you with his intense, violet eyes, lips slightly pursing in thought before straightening into a flat line, much like his brother. But beneath those bright eyes you had come to fear, there was something simmering beneath.

Rage.

Swallowing and sensing that you were in danger, you turned to face your husband again, “Did you find the men who were responsible at the Red Fork?”

Aemond was still, shoulders tensed, head turning to look up at his brother who still sat staring at you, crown atop his head. You watched as your husbands lips opened to speak.

Otto Hightower stepped forward, his greying and receding hair shimmering in the light that poured in from the windows. His robes of green were trimmed with fur around his neck and chest, and the pin of the Hand of the King sat against his breast.

“You stand before King Aegon the Second, rightful heir to the Iron Throne.” His voice sent chills down your spine, skin breaking beneath your nails in your palm. It was happening again, “You have been brought before the King and his Council to answer for the crimes you are being charged.”

Your immediate thought was to turn to Aemond, to ask him what was happening, to beg him for help, but you remembered the last time this had happened. You remembered the last time he had stood there and watched.

You remembered as he had done nothing.

You remembered that you were alone.

Again.

Otto straightened, a ringing in your ears beginning to grow louder, “You are accused of treason; For the slaying of the Kings unborn child, aided by the traitor Maester. You are accused of conspiring with Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen against the Crown. You are accused of attempting to recruit Prince Aemond Targaryen to turn cloak and help your mothers cause. How do you plead against these charges?”

“What?” Your voice was so small, and sounded so far away.

This was it.

There was no going back now.

Aegon straightened on the monstrous throne of melted swords, “The Princess was given a gift by the Seven when my seed was put into her womb. She had made a confession to ensuring the death of her pregnancy out of spite when the Maester was charged. She has murdered my son. The Kings son. A highest of treasons.”

Your throat felt dry, “You raped me.”

Aegon’s lip twitched from the smirk he was holding back, “The Princess seduced me with promises of good behaviour for favours and fruit. Star fruit is your favourite, is it not?”

Aegon moaned as he heard you whimper, and let go of your throat, a lungful of air racing through your mouth as you gasped. Aegon fucked himself into you, the sound of his grunts and his flesh slapping against yours filled the chambers with your sobs.

Aemond bristled beside his brother, eye narrowed on you. His posture was straight, and as your eyes flicked from one brother to the other, you realised there was no hope.

There was no hope for you.

Aemond had made his choice.

And it was never to be you.

Aegon leant forward on the throne, silver hair shimmering in the light, “The Princess came to me after Prince Aemond left for Harrenhal. She was alone and angry at knowing that my brother was having an affair with the bastard wet-nurse, Alys Rivers. She begged me to warm her bed, and to give her an heir so that my brother would not suspect a thing.”

“You think the Knight would help you?” Aegon sneered, as you thrashed beneath him, pushing at him with all your strength, “Do you think he would listen to you? I could command him to come in here and make him watch, and he would do it. Should I call him for you?” He growled, fingers tightening around your throat, the room beginning to spin.

You swallowed thickly, the sounds of Aegon’s grunts breaking forth in your memory.

The night he attacked you.

The night he raped you.

The night that changed everything.

“That's a lie.” Your voice cracked, looking up at the King, “You came to my chambers, and held me down, and raped me.” Your eyes flicked across the room, meeting a pair of distressed brown ones, “Alicent, you know this to be the truth. You were there. You helped me.”

Alicent stepped forward, turning to her son, “Is this true, Aegon? Perhaps the Princess had not known the implications. The Maester must have deceived her, or forced her to do as she did under threat.”

Alicent had given you Moon Tea after Aegon.

She knew.

And she was lying.

"You're lying!" You sneered at the auburn haired woman.

Aegon looked down at his mother in mock pity, “Lord Larys Strong told me that she had been given Moon Tea after she was given my son. She had willingly and enthusiastically drank it, as she knew it was my child inside of her.”

Your stomach twisted in knots, and you felt as though you were going to be sick. But the anger of seeing Alicent play games with her own son, whilst her other watched you, was simply too much for you to bear.

Damn them all.

“The Queen gave me the Moon Tea.” You declared, voice clipped, "Is that not an act of treason? Try your own blood before the Council for the sins of your flesh.” Your hands came down to your side, clenched into fists.

You were not going to die in cowardice.

You would bite, and scratch, and claw until the end.

As you always had done.

“Princess Y/n, might I remind you that you are before the Small Council and King Aegon. You will have time to speak for your innocence when the King has finished his petition.” Otto cautioned you.

Your breathing became laboured, shallow, angry breaths that heaved.

It was that rage again.

That same rage that you had pushed down and away, that had been there at your finger tips, just beneath the surface of your skin, hiding in the shadows. The rage that you had clipped and preened like a rose bush, to not prick yourself on its thorns.

A rage that was innately yours.

Aegon straightened himself, the golden chains that sat heavily against his chest swaying with movement. He shifted, pulling himself to be seated in a stiff and upright position, as though one of the swords he was seated upon had slipped up his spine.

He looked every bit his mother.

And then he thought.

And the silence of the chambers was almost as deafening as the ringing in your ears. The pounding of your heart in your head, the rushing of the blood in your veins. You felt every bone in your body, the weight of them, the feel of them. Every tooth in your skull felt as though they were not sitting correctly, your tongue heavy and too large for your mouth.

Aemond shifted again in your periphery, taking two short steps forward towards you.

Coward.

“Swear yourself to me.” The King boomed in the chambers, his voice echoing in the space and decision made.

Aegon pushed himself to stand, looking down his nose at you.

“Bend the knee, and swear me as your King.”

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lokisprettygirl · 1 year

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Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Summary : The friendship between you and Loki grows as you both learn more about each other.

Warning: Soft loki alert again, Y/n is the type of y/n that says you know after every sentence..you know?, Mention of trauma and torture, drinking, cuddle bug do do do do, 4.5 k words approx

Loki took a deep breath as soon as he got inside the bathroom. Heavens Goodness this woman was choosing to trust him for some reason and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize her faith in him. He looked at himself in the mirror and out of nowhere it suddenly hit him that you were the only person who had trusted him in a very long time. Nobody trusted him. He was a trickster, a liar and now he was a mass murderer.

He clicked his fingers and the armor disappeared from his body, there were millions of bruises on every inch of his skin. That Hulk smash was brutal. He got under the shower and turned it to the coldest setting, as soon as the cold water hit his skin he was finally able to relax.

You kept hearing the knock on the door and you had a strong feeling who it could be. Mrs. Geller ofcourse

"Helloooo Mrs Geller" you gave her a fake cheery smile and you could tell she was trying to peek into your apartment.

"I thought I heard ya screaming" you gulped as she said that.

"I didn't scream..ohhh i actually did ..it was a rat..I saw a rat" you blabbed nervously.

"In your apartment?" She was disgusted by the notion.

"Yeah he was huge..bigggg bigg rat"

"Umm I hear the shower running" she said and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Sometimes you wanted to snap at her. Badly.

"Oh I was going to take a shower but then I heard you knocking soo"

"You know if there's a man in there you can tell me, i would be happy for you.. finally right?" You chuckled as she said that.

"There's no man i promise, you can come check if you don't believe me" you told her so she shook her head.

"Was only making sure you were safe dear"

"I know..I'm grateful.. thank you" you smiled and hugged her. She was just looking out for you but it felt like having a photocopy of your own mom, you didn't need another mom in life.

"I'll set a trap at my place..you do that too" she told you so you smiled.

"I will. Thank youuuu" As she went back to her apartment you took a deep breath. Okay there was still time, you could just call the Avengers and get yourself out of this situation before it would get even messier, you didn't even know this guy. What if he was just playing with you, they didn't call him the god of tricks for shits and giggles. Right?

"Y/n" you heard your name being called so you stepped closer to the bathroom door, he was peeking at you with his head out, his naked body remained hidden behind the door. He gave you a smile and that smile was going to be the death of you. Maybe you can get to know this man, he had given you no reason to not trust him until now. Besides you had the helpline number.

"Can I please get something to dry myself with?" He asked you so you walked towards the closet and came back to him with a towel. He had clothes in his vault but he needed an excuse to talk to you. Once he came out your eyes widened for two very different reasons, first of all those deep purple bruises on his body terrified you, he must had been in alot of pain and second of all you weren't expecting to see such a chiseled lean body hiding behind all that leather and metal.

"Ummm you could have just stayed in you know..you're barely clothed" you said to him so he gave his typical teethy smile again. For a terrorist, he did smile alot.

"Oh is this a nuisance?"

"You being half naked- dripping water everywhere in my living room? No it's not a nuisance at all" you answered sarcastically.

"Well nudity is a man-made construct..in Asgard--" He noticed the deathly glares so he decided to eat the rest of his words, you passed him an another towel and he used it to dry his hair.

His hair didn't look like a tree anymore, it looked soft and smooth and–

"Earth to Madame" you snapped out of your thoughts as he clicked his fingers. Should he tell you that he had clothes of his own? Probably not. "Do you have something for me to wear?"

You stomped on your feet and looked around your closet, there was a pair of black sweatpants and the matching t-shirt you had stolen from one of your boyfriends so you passed it to him, you turned around again as he dropped the towel from his waist to change.

"Thank you lady y/n" he mumbled after he was dressed. That shirt looked indecent on him, you were able to define every muscle underneath that tight constricted fabric.

"I'm going to shower too ..no funny stuff alright?" You warned him but he only got confused, his brows furrowed again, that gesture always made him look so innocent like an infant, a baby animal, a toddler.

He sat down on that ugly sofa and then he heard you yelling at him again which made him squeeze his eyes. The water must have been too cold for you, he'd have to keep that in mind, you were allowing him to stay here so graciously, he didn't want to ruin it. As you came out you asked him to stay right where he was, you wanted to put a bra under your clothes. He might have been a terrorist trickster god but he was still a man.

Grabbing the first aid box you made your way to the sofa and sat down next to him, he looked at your attire and it made him smile, you were matching with his attire from head to toe

"Ummm your cuts..will get infected..did they not patch you up?"

"Oh yes, they definitely patched me up before they arranged a feast to celebrate my presence here" you squinted your eyes in order to avoid an insulting retort. You poured the rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab then passed it to him. Should he tell you that he'd probably be alright by tomorrow?

"What shall I do about this ?" He asked you so you huffed before you snatched it away from him and rubbed it right on the long slit over his nose. He winced so you dabbed it in a gentle manner.

"Do you guys not have doctors or medicines on your alien planet?" He chuckled as you questioned him. Adorable. He found you adorable.

"Oh we do have our mighty healers over there. But it is all purely natural"

"Like ayurveda?"

"I suppose so"

"So what is your plan here? What are you trying to do" you asked him

"You want me to be entirely truthful?"

"There shouldn't be an alternative"

"I just want to loosen myself for a moment if you'd allow me to. It's been a while since I have had the pleasure of doing absolutely nothing"

"Awnnnn it must be a tough job terrorising other planets I am assuming" you pouted at the end of your sentence but he looked down in shame and it made you purse your lips together.

"I'm sorry..I am sorry I don't mean to be so snarky all the time"

"It's alright. I deserve that" his eyes teared up and then you felt even worse.

"Maybe you don't.. I..I don't know you or what happened with you and I shouldn't be judging you like this..so I just..it's just weird for me and I'm usually not this snappy. It's just ..things like this don't happen to me, it happens to other people you know? You know what I mean?" He shook his head as you said that. You suddenly leaned into him and his heart skipped a beat "What is that smell? My body wash doesn't smell like that?" You asked him and he gulped.

"Uhhh it's a scent"

"Like a perfume?"

"Yes"

"Huhh where did you get it from?" You asked him as you crossed your arms.

"My vault "

"Your what?"

"Vault..It's similar to that of a closet like the one you have..there"

"Uhhhuhh I hear you..And where exactly is this vault of yours?"

"In the outer space somewhere" your eyes widened as he said that but you didn't want to snap at him again, especially after you noticed the way he had flinched the last time. Was he used to being yelled at a lot?

"It smells expensive" he smiled as you said that. You saw the green shimmer you had seen before whenever he did magicky stuff, he waved his hand and there it was in his hand. A delicate looking bottle with the most intricate designs you had ever seen in your life.

"You can have it"

"Oh no nooo..I can't"

"I have plenty more where that came from, please have it for me. Just a small token of appreciation for the kindness that you have bestowed –"

"Okay I'll take it" you smiled and it made him smile too.

The door buzzed so you got up. It must be the pizza guy. You gave him a piece too but he didn't really like pizza, and found it too greasy.

After dinner you looked at him curiously. Where was he going to sleep? The couch was too small for him and-- there was only one bed.

Cliche. Cliche.

"So we sleep now?" He asked you

"Yeah, where are you planning to sleep?"

He looked at your bed and you shook your head immediately,

"Is this bedding pleasant enough for you? It looks small" he walked closer to the bed to inspect it as if he was the king of beds or something.

"It's all I can afford right now, after a long day I don't really care I just want to sleep..the apartment had all the other stuff but the thing I needed the most..I bought this one..it's my baby" he smiled and sat down on the bed. Your bed.

"Would you mind me asking about your occupation?" He asked you

"Yeah I'm a prostitute" he tilted his head and thought about it, he didn't want to say something offensive.

"Uhhh it serves you well?" You chuckled as he said that. He was adorable, if you hadn't seen his face all over the news you probably wouldn't have believed that this was the same guy who had supposedly terrorized the earth yesterday.

"I'm joking. I work in a gym, it's temporary..I .. have done a lot of things and changed a lot of jobs and anyways I'll sleep on the sofa because that's even tinier than the bed I got here and you won't fit in there because heyy you're taller than some of the buildings in Minnesota" you smiled at him but his eyes teared up instead. Why were you sacrificing your comfort for him? He didn't deserve your kindness.

"I am honored but –" he waved his fingers again and you gasped as you saw a bed a few feet away from your own. It was a lavish queen sized bed taking most of the space in your apartment

"That was in your closet?"

"Vault"

"Cool cool cool ..very well then.. get on your bed"

"No it's for you.. please take that one"

"Oh no no I'm not taking your princely sophisticated bed..noo" you said to him.

"It's for you" you took a few steps back until you hit the side of the bed

"I said no..are you listening to me? It's your bed, you'd fit in there and I want you to…ohh my godddd!!!!" you exclaimed as you sat down on the softest comfiest surface your butt has ever met with. He couldn't help but smile at your reaction

"Okay maybe I'll rest here for a minute..just 60 seconds okay?" you laid down and a small gasp escaped your throat, it was like floating in the heaven itself. This must be the bed they probably provide in heaven for all the heaveners.

"You do that"

"Just a minute"

"Sure" he laid down on your bed and it smelled like you, thoughts of wanting to cuddle with you infiltrated his mind so he smacked himself mentally, he can't possibly think about a woman he just met today in this sort of way. He turned the lights off as he watched you drifting into a deeper sleep and after several months he was finally able to fall asleep with no fear or threat looming over his head.

The next few days were insane, everyone was talking about him everywhere you went to and you were just seething internally everytime someone mentioned that war criminal Avengers were looking for. You hated how people talked about him and made assumptions, you didn't blame them, people got hurt in that attack, you were doing the same thing before you got to know him a little.

You had started to see him differently when he told you about his life in Asgard, he was a prince, a literal prince living under the shadows of his older brother, you have had friends and family members who wanted to upstage you so you understood his plight. When he told you about how he was the son of the monster all the Asgard despised, your heart rendered for him, everything he thought to be true about himself just didn't exist. One day he was the prince of Asgard and then in a moment his whole world was turned upside down.

"I just don't know who I am anymore, where do I even belong?" He mumbled and your eyes teared up, you didn't understand him completely but you understood some of it. You had felt lost most of your life. You placed your hand on his so he looked at you, his eyes were moist too and the sad look on his face always made you want to wrap your arms around him and hug him as tightly as you could.

"Ummm maybe with time everything will fall into the right place" he grabbed your digits in his large hand and then you felt his thumb rubbing against the back of your fingers, and it made your breath hitch in your chest. Everytime he touched you, you just wanted him to keep going but he never crossed that line of decency and you weren't sure if you wanted that either because you were enjoying having a friend who didn't seem completely selfish to his core.

"Time for margaritas" you got up and ruffled his hair with your hands before you moved to the kitchen. He probably wouldn't have allowed anyone to do it to him, nobody gets to touch his hair, but he owed you for literally saving his arse. Also because he enjoyed whenever you touched him like that.

"So do you have a girlfriend or something on your planet?" You asked him sheepishly as you sipped on your drink, it's been more than a week since he basically begged you to stay here and that particular curiosity has been bothering you since.

"A girlfriend?" He giggled

"Yeah like a lady friend, companion, consort sort of thing etc" That's right. You had books, you had Google on your phone.

"I do not have one at the present, ofcourse"

"But you used to?"

"I have been alive for a thousand years darling" your face flushed at the pet name. Damn!! he was a grand grand daddy.

"Yeah but not every person we are attracted to turns into a special person you know?" You asked him and he nodded.

"Well I was betrothed to the princess of Vanaheim, father - Odin wanted the alliance for political and regional purposes, safe to say I crushed all of his ambitions under my boots" he chuckled and you looked at him curiously.

"Arranged marriage? Did you like this Princess? I mean I don't know why you won't..she's a literal Princess but did you like her..like like her?" He kept staring at your face as you blabbed, his mouth curved into a smile and you just wanted to knock it off because it made you feel nervous.

"We met on every auspicious occasions, she was .. beautiful certainly " he let out a nervous laugh "Perhaps our affair would have developed further or not. Will never find out because I was thirsty for blood" he quoted his brother and even though he was smiling you could see the sadness on his features.

"Do you miss her?" You fidgeted with your fingers as you questioned.

"I only wish for her to be well. Enough of me, what about you? Are you of proper age to be wedded?" You burst out laughing as he said that

"Am I of age? I'm gonna be thirty in a week, THIRTY is like sixty for a woman here.. that's what my mom says by the way. Did you know I'm losing my eggs with time and I'll regret being alone if I don't find a guy right this moment and let him breed me so I could raise an insufferable depressed child just like me?" his brows remained furrowed as you finished your sentence.

"But you do not want to marry and have a child?" You sighed as he questioned, this was the part where it got really hard for you to explain what you wanted in life because everything you wanted was taken from you or just not meant for you. You turned your body towards him and he was looking at you with such intensity that you couldn't even maintain a proper eye contact, not for long anyways.

"I want it, I'm not against it but I want it with someone I want it with?" Your eyes teared up, you were slightly tipsy and you had someone listening to what you wanted to say, a man like him wanted to talk to you and all of it was making you emotional. He noticed the change in your mood so he scooted closer to you and placed his hand on yours again

"The first guy I ever remember liking was when I was 20, I was a late bloomer you see" you chuckled and he brought his fingers up to tuck your hair behind the ear, why would he do that? WHY WOULD HE DO THAT? God that tingled.

"What did he do?" He asked softly.

"He didn't do anything, he was just so confusing. I mean why would a guy talk to me everyday and flirt with me all the time if he didn't want to have something? One day he was into me the other day he was too broken from his past relationships, the third day he was again into me and then he'd ghost me point blank for two days and then he'd come back to repeat the cycle for months and I allowed it..it messed me up for a long time because he always made me feel as if I wasn't enough..as if I was doing something wrong and I continued to approach him even though he made it clear that he didn't want anything, because then i wondered if he'd come back in three days and change his tune again" as the tear slipped past your cheek he wiped it with his thumb, you felt his fingers running through your scalp and it calmed you down a little bit it was also making you feel several other things.

"You did nothing wrong my darling. He was a selfish,immature, pompous arse in the dire need of a distraction, i know of their kind very well" Well he grew up with their kind

"He's married now and I didn't even want to marry him because he was the least attractive man there ever could be. I don't even know why I liked him but it still hurts.. seeing people who had hurt you so much be so happy in life…it hurts" as your voice choked he instantly pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you to hug you.

"Do you want to hear more?" You asked him between your silly cries.

"Yes" he answered instantly.

"The second guy was the guy who actually wanted to date me..I was 23, he was a year younger than me so it definitely was my fault, and it was a long distance relationship "

"Long distance?"

"Yeah like we were geographically apart?"

"So you never met each other?"

"We met twice" you facepalmed as you reeled in your stupidity "Long story short after a few months of the relationship and me not willing to put out for him, as in I didn't send nudes when he asked.."

"Nudes?" God he was so clueless about everything.

"Naked pictures of myself

"Understood"

"All of a sudden he didn't love me anymore you know and guess what? He fell for his best friend who had to be a girl of course.. you know what I ended up becoming? That girl in movies who comes between two obviously in love best friends. I got cheated on, I was led on, I got hurt and abandoned but somehow I was still the villain here..worst part is I liked him so much that even after he broke my heart we stayed friends and he'd ask me for tips so he could impress this best friend turned lover of his"

"And you gave him these tips he asked for?" He scrunched his nose

"Fucking yeahhh..I'm so stupid oh god..he broke up with me over the text, it was two days after he had told me that he loved me and saw a future with me..I'm so stupid"

"You're not stupid darling.. merely gullible"

"That doesn't make me feel any better"

He smiled as you said that but you weren't done talking. You'd talk until you'd drive this one away too. He'd probably get himself arrested after this. "Unfortunately I didn't just stop there ..i continued to befriend and get involved with selfish assholes all my life and now I'm old, I wasted my youth on those jerks and now I'm not as wanted as I was in my early 20s.. worst part is I wasn't even in love with those guys but I still allowed them to waste so much of my time and break me so much that I can't even trust anyone anymore"

"You're so far off the reality little one" he smiled so you glared at him.

"What?"

"You are ethereal, so very youthful as opposed to what you may choose to believe about yourself and you're so…" he gulped as he looked at you intently "Intriguing..any man would be fortunate to have a woman like you, but you do not deserve just any other man..you deserve the noblest of them all.. perhaps the reason you haven't found one yet " you sniffled as he finished his sentence.

"You are sweet"

"So you were not in love with them? Any of them?" He questioned so you shook your head in response. You loved some of them but you weren't in love.

"Noo..never. Maybe my perception of love has been skewed because of those romantic movies but I have never felt that intense type of love in my life..like ever. Never felt the chemistry..that bubbling scorching heat" he gulped as you said that as you got more and more animated with your hand gestures .

"Heattt?"

"Yeahhh you know when you're just so in love with someone that you just want to fuck them so hard, anywhere, everywhere..all the time.. and it doesn't matter how they look.. you just want to go wild on them because you're in loveeee"

"Perhaps you're confusing lust with love?" he blushed as he questioned so you shook your head.

"Noo the lust would mean you want to have raunchy sex with them and then go your separate ways. I don't want just thatttt..no no..i want to be there for this man..not just for the sex but for the bad and tough times..harddd hard times and for those insecure moments" you looked into his eyes and you could see his mouth open and close, because he had nothing to say. He was charmed.

"I want to treat him like he's the best thing to ever exist and I want to fuck him day and night because I'm so attracted to this gem of a man and then cuddle him until he's all happy in his head. And i want to gush about him all the time to every person i know and bite their ears off while I tell them how fucking gorgeous the love of my life is.. you knowwwww" he licked his lower lip as he looked at your heavy breaths after you finished your sentence. All of a sudden he wanted to be that man, he yearned to be the object of your fascination, he needed to be the man that you wanted to love and be in love with so deeply.

You couldn't stop staring at his lips and you kept wondering how it would be like to kiss him.

Oh god you were so very much attracted to him..oh fucking god.

Of course you were attracted to someone who you knew was way out of your league and practically non attainable. He wasn't even from this planet.

"You know if I'm ever talking too much especially after drinking margaritas you can just shut me up real quick" he chuckled as you said that.

"Pardon me for being unresponsive darling. I was just thinking about what you just said. It's uhh ..sweet and Passionate, it's alluring.. i understand now" Stop looking into his sea green eyes. Especially when he's talking.

"That's a relief..okay we should sleep" you gave him an awkward hug as you wished him good night. You could smell that cologne that you loved so much, the smell that resembled bergamot and roses.

Next morning you didn't have to work so you spent the day teaching him basic things in the kitchen, for example turning the stove on, making a nice cup of tea, or just simple eggs, he had never stepped a foot in the kitchen before but he was a fast learner. You noticed though that the heat was bothering him so after a while you threw him out of the kitchen.

That night you woke up and saw him trembling with fear on that tiny little bed, his knees were curled into his chest and he kept mumbling, asking them to not hurt him, he was begging someone to spare him today. You quickly got out of the bed and walked towards him, he always insisted on sleeping on your kiddie sized bed even though he was definitely too tall for it.

"Lokii?" You placed your palm on his forehead and he was sweating alot, you wiped the sweat beads off his skin with the sleeve of your shirt before you bent down on your knees at the edge of his bed.

"Looo? Wake up ..it's just a nightmare" god knew what he was seeing in that moment, he didn't tell you everything about him, or how much he had suffered. His eyes opened slowly and the lights were off but the window behind the bed made you able to see him.

"Are you okay?" You asked him softly and he sniffled in response then he shook his head, he sat up a little and you thought he wanted to talk to you but instead he leaned into you, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you on the bed next to him. God he was soo strong.

Also you didn't have a bra on.

He laid down with you, one of his arm stayed curled around your waist, you gasped a little as he hid his face between the crook of your neck, his lips too close to your cleavage but you didn't think he was even thinking about the closeness at the moment. Maybe he just wanted to hold someone and be held in return so that's what you gave him, you lifted his head up for a moment just so you could place your arm underneath, sure your nerves would be dead by tomorrow but you figured it would be worth it.

You had not even hugged him for more than a few seconds before this but then how come this didn't feel weird at all? Why did holding him so close felt so natural? You heard his little whimpers and it snapped you out of the daydreaming.

"You're okay I promise..you're okay" you mumbled softly as your fingers ran over his scalp while the other hand caressed his back, his hair was as soft as you had imagined it to be. His hand lowered down from your waist, it briefly brushed over your cheeks before he grabbed your thigh and hooked it around his waist then his arm held onto your waist again. Okay you were physically, mentally and officially turned on now, you could feel your lips quivering because of the intimate position. Both of them. You felt afraid you'd start to hump against him in the middle of the night.

He fell asleep soon after, leaving you all warm and tingly inside. You may or may not have kissed his forehead once he did.

The next morning you thought things would get awkward between you two but you had no idea that this innocuous cuddling thing was about to become an important part of your bedtime routine.

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

Tag list (if you want to be tagged or removed let me know)

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72

@nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @littlespaceyelf @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1

@whylokiissocute @hyperlokilover

#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #post avengers loki #canon divergent au

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my-naughty-writings-and-musings · 11 months

Note

Girl your writing style is AMAZING OH MY GOD-I’ve been starving for crumbs of Earthspark Bumblebee-could I request some fun time between the bot and a Gn! Human? Specifically Bumblebee teasing his partner about how much their fondness of his height and size?

Again love your work-wish you the best!

Awww thank you so much!! I had a very long day and whipped up this short and sweet little something to wrap it up, I really hope you like it!

It wasn't fair how little he had to try to rile you up.

Something about how powerful his frame felt when he moved in close to your squishy organic body reduced you to a puddle of need every time, and he needed only scoop you up in his servos for a rapid lift to his shoulders to have you swooning over his height.

That wasn't even to mention how you shuddered when his much larger form eclipsed you in shadow, how the rev of his powerful engine sent your heart fluttering, or how often your eyes drifted to his codpiece as you reminisced over just how much he was packing underneath...

Today he'd made his move early, inviting you out for a walk through the woods and eagerly lifting you to his shoulders after you'd agreed. It was only after the house was long behind you both that he'd asked if you wanted to visit the deeper and more private parts of the forest for a change. You'd known exactly what he was getting at, but with his frame so close to your needy body you'd been unable to resist. Your submission to his seduction had him purring with satisfaction all the way to your favorite hidden clearing.

A bed of soft grass and moss met your back as he laid you down beneath his kneeling frame, your tiny form limp and utterly helpless in his grip as he maneuvered you however he pleased. Blocking out the sun above, he bent down to give you a kiss, cupping half your body with one servo just to emphasize how tiny you were. You moaned into the kiss and brought your hands to his chest, sliding your fingertips over the smooth metal of his armor and relishing in the raw power you felt rumbling beneath. From the purr of his engine to the hum of his spark, the mech had strength like few earthlings could imagine, but that you'd experienced in ways that would make the majority of your species blush.

Taking his time now that he had you alone, Bumblebee allowed you to whine as he pulled away from your lips, his amused chuckles humming through you as he carefully nibbled down your jaw and into the crook of your neck, grazing his dentae over the tender skin in a loose love bite. Your helpless keen of arousal made his engine rev against you, the warm rush of his increasingly desperate vents stirring the grass around you in waves. The force of his desire was strong enough to be tangible in the very air, and knowing it was because of you only made your desperation all the more intense. Grabbing his chest, you tried in vain to push him further down your body.

"Not yet." he tut tutted, removing his dentae from your neck just to kiss it. Arching into the touch with a whine of open desperation, you tried to scootch upwards to bring your lower regions closer to his mouth, but a servo gently pinning you over your chest held you in place. He smiled with desire and affection as you squirmed against his grip.

"Bee, stop being a jerk!" you cried with a deeply unsatisfied pout. It wasn't fair how easily he riled you up, but it was even worse how often he made you wait.

Dropping his mouth to your collarbone and leaving a series of kisses down your front, he let you enjoy the view of his smug grin in between every passionate peck, so pleased with himself his voice sounded like a purr. "You don't have to frag me."

"But I want to!" you huffed in annoyance, making him laugh in more genuine amusement.

"It's adorable how badly you want me." he teased with a kiss to your forehead, being purposefully chaste to drive you ever more wild. You'd have screamed if he wasn't so good at what he did.

An impatient keen was replaced by a moan when he finally nosed his way between your legs, allowing you to grind your crotch against his lips just in time for him to hum against you. Moaning openly in encouragement, you clung to his horns for support, a move that really got him revved up. A growl of desire between your legs had you fumbling for the zipper, fingers struggling to get a grip in your lusty haze. If you took too long it wasn't unlikely that he'd pull them off you in pieces, but at that moment you couldn't have cared less, so utterly desperate for release only he could provide you would have happily torn your own clothes off.

No one who'd experienced the passion of a very powerful and very much in love mech could have blamed you.

#valveplug #transformers #lemon #maccadam #robot x human relations #self insert #human reader #bumblebee x reader #bumblebee #x reader #nsfw////#tf earthspark #transformers earthspark #earthspark #tf #tfe #tfes #gender neutral reader

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saintship · 4 months

Note

okay just hear me out!! 13 but with tf141 wherein reader HATES physical touch like they’re completely repulsed by it but they know they can trust tf141, it’s just a matter of getting used to it and time. i’d imagine like it would be them slowly noticing it like if price pats reader on the shoulder for a job well done or if soap just surprise hugs reader from the back and in each scenario the reader freezes up 🤭 also it’s 1 am and i’ve been bingereading your work it’s so good 😭

Prompt #13 - "Take your time."

Thank you so much<3

I’ve struggled with touch aversion my whole life, and it can be upsetting at times so this is free therapy for me,

Hope you enjoy!

Reader & 141 - A little getting used to

Insert excuse to use this gif

The first time they learned of your aversion was at a loosely named ‘work party’, when Gaz had thrown back enough liquor to kill a small animal, Ghost had gathered a few empty pint glasses, and Price drank Soap under the table, literally, when he collapsed to the wooden floorboards of the bar.

You had quickly helped him to his feet and turned to return to your seat when he suddenly enveloped you in a drunken bear hug from behind you, nearly toppling the both of you over with his staggering balance.

You made a low noise of surprise before freezing in place, your hands held up awkwardly as Gaz hiccupped tears of laughter at the scene.

Soap had apologized profusely through the winces of his hangover the next morning, assured when you told him it wasn’t just him, it was touching. But when you were alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but recall how warm it felt, how he held you to him like you were something precious.

It wasn’t long after that night that the 141 had completed another operation, mingling conversation echoing throughout the hangar as they filed out of the jet. Your boots had just touched the concrete floor when you felt a Price’s gloved hand pat your shoulder twice, along with a gentle squeeze and a smile.

“Good work.”

Your rigid body made him retract, but you surprised him by laying your own hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks to the Captain..” You murmured with a nod.

What he took as a small gesture was an act that kept you up that night. It had always seemed like you would always hate touching in general; and you did, but it felt different when it was them.

Maybe it was because they never treated you like a child. Some thought your touch aversion was the result of something terrible, and wanted to talk to you like you were some kind of rescue. But on this team, in this job, they just didn’t care. And it felt good.

You and Ghost shared the same hesitance; he showed his love in different ways. Whether it be his humor, pulling you out of a tight situation in the field, or just staying up when neither of you could sleep because of the flashing images that played behind your eyes. So he was the one who surprised you the most.

The operation hadn’t been going well; there were more hidden explosives than they had prepared for, and the task force were clinging to the only truck that wasn’t shattered into a grotesque metal skeleton. The truck wasn’t meant to fit five bodies, and the uneven weight careened it into a small cluster of metal beams and half-walls that had collapsed from a singed building. The crash wasn’t overly harmful, Price hadn’t been going fast, but you were tossed into a pile of concrete rubble, disturbing a metal beam that fell on your upper arm, snapping the bone and pinning the limb underneath.

Your instinct to struggle only tore at the flesh and ligaments more, a white-hot clamp from your shoulder down. Your nerves spasmed and ricocheted, a fuzzy coating of needles trailing up from the smallest finger of your left hand.

You screamed in a way you likely never would again, your guttural cries of pain alerting Ghost. He knew what you sounded like when you were lacerated, or even shot; you would breathe through the groans, often treating it yourself despite his lecturing that would follow.

Now, there was no breath, no quiet murmurs of discomfort. There was only your screams. Not a high-pitched, piercing tone, but a cry, erupting from deep in your ribs, desperate and hollow.

Gaz was stuck as well, a chunk of concrete the size of a car toppled precariously near him and blocking any route of escape. Price and Soap ran to him while Ghost ran to you, an unspoken divvying of effort. Ghost knelt by you, his adrenaline momentarily halted by your grasping of his gloved hand.

“Please.. please help, please, please-"

You were sobbing from pain, but the beam was too heavy for Simon to lift on his own.

“You’re in shock, Sergeant. You need to keep breathing, you got that?” He spoke steadily, though his eyes darted from one part of your broken body to the next frantically.

“Hurts..”

You felt weak saying it. But that was all that was on your mind. The blinding, stabbing pain.

“I know..” Ghost seemed to murmur under his breath, as if the words escaped him involuntarily.

“Got him!” Soap’s voice rang clear as Price dragged Gaz free. Soap vaulted a pile of brick and cinder blocks, quickly assisting Ghost in lifting the beam off your broken arm. The absence of Ghost’s hand made your palm feel cold.

The pressure being released incited more pain. Your screams increased in severity before you were finally free, Soap discarding the beam roughly. You could see in his eyes he was out of his element. It was unlike you to scream or cry.

“We’ve got to set your arm, we’re too far from a hospital to leave it for later.” Ghost stated. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, no, no..”

“It’s alright, Sergeant..”

He sat behind you, holding your torso in his arms as your injured arm continued to swell.

“Look at the clouds. Don’t look at him.”

Soap had knelt beside you, preparing to set your joint. You obeyed, your eyes fixed on the hazy grey clouds that decorated the muted sky. The season being Autumn accompanied by the fact it was nearing sundown made the sky a gorgeous deep blue, stained with a grey overcoating.

“Just keep looking up..”

Soap set the joint in one fluid motion, and a choked cry escaped you, your flinching only held steady by the arms of a man you hardly even looked in the eye.

“Good.. good job..” Soap touched your knee gently, and any panic seemed to ebb, if only for a fleeting second. You could hear Price radioing for a medical evac through the pounding in your head. You would have slipped into the warm blanket of unconsciousness, had Ghost not been behind you. He had fully settled on the ground, at first to secure you, but now at will. For the first time in a long time, you felt arms around your middle and didn’t want to shrink away.

On the gurney, his gloved hand stayed on your shoulder.

In the helicopter, he held your body steady as the cabin shook during takeoff.

In the medical wing, his palm rested just at your ankle while you were treated.

Every so often, you glanced at his hand, the skeleton print of his gloves stained with grime and blood. And with the warmth of his palm, you figured the touch of someone else might not be as repulsive if it's someone like him.

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #story prompts #ask #requests #request

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highdefhoetry · 7 months

Text

Behind the Blindfold, ch. 3 [Gojo Satoru X Reader]

tags: NSFW!!! tickle kink, female reader, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, gentle femdom, edging, switching, vaginal fingering, oral sex (vaginal), creampie, body worship & praise, aftercare/post-sex cuddling, hand kink, hand worship, finger sucking, big dick, size kink, size difference, reader is short, enemies to lovers (kind of), dubcon (reader is resistant but only because she's denying feelings), light humiliation with verbal teasing, reader is tsundere with trust issues

summary: you can't deny the power gojo satoru now holds over you. but that doesn't mean you can't turn the tables on him.

word count: ~4,400

read part 1 here! read part 2 here!

read on ao3 here!

“(Y/N)? Hellooooo?”

The sound of Gojo Satoru’s voice yanks you back into reality. Thrown off by the sudden interruption to your daydream, you knit your brows together and return his overconfident grin with a scowl. The rest of the first and special grade sorcerers stare back at you unamused, scattered in seats around the room, reminding you that you’re on the clock. A meeting about some schoolyard curse that kept reappearing or whatever. You had only been half listening.

“Sorry,” you grumble, sinking down into your chair. You hear Gojo snickering to himself next to you and silently cuss him out.

You couldn’t get him off your mind. Not since that night. His hands had left imprints on your body, your skin now haunted by the ghost of his touch. Every time you close your eyes, you see those beautiful baby blues staring back at you. And when you sleep, the same scenes replay in your mind like a rerun of a movie. Gojo, slipping his giant fingers into you. Gojo, teasing you in a muttered baritone about your body’s reactions to his touch. Gojo, licking your juice off his fingers like it was the best goddamn thing he’d ever tasted.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Meeting’s over.”

Someone’s voice snaps you out of it again, you’re not sure whose this time. The sound of metal chairs scraping against the concrete floor spur you to stand up and leave, as well. The room clears out quickly as the rest of the sorcerers make their exit, all but one. He waits for you at the door, leaning against the wall as he stares at you with eyes hidden behind a dark blindfold.

“Ready, partner?” Gojo smirks.

You let out a deep sigh.

You thought it had just been a one-off thing. That once he had left your apartment the next morning, he’d start ignoring you or treating you coldly as most men did after hooking up with you. But you’d been sorely mistaken.

Fucking Gojo Satoru had only made him cling to you more.

You had kicked him out the next morning after the two of you woke up. Surprisingly, he’d gone without a fight, leaving you with only a few parting words and a smile, playful smile.

“See you later, (Y/N).”

You’ve wondered since then what would have happened if you’d let him stay. But you tried not to linger on these thoughts for too long.

Fortunately, he still kept things professional when you were on the job. For the most part. You were grateful for that; the last thing you wanted was for your personal matters to seep into business. Although the other sorcerers were starting to catch on to your… “situation”, the two of you made sure to act appropriately with one another when surrounded by others.

But he still took every opportunity to rile you up when no one else was looking. Whether that was whispering all of the dirty, disgusting things he was going to do to you next time he came over, or sneaking his hands and fingers under your clothes to tickle you and make you squeal at times when you were supposed to be quiet. Then, the other day, while you were alone in the hallway, you suddenly found yourself pushed up against the wall with both of Gojo’s hands groping your ass from behind. He somehow managed to sneak his fingers under your pants, sliding beneath your panties and into your hole in one swift, smooth motion. And before you could get a sound out, his other hand clamped over your mouth to silence you. It was big enough to cover the lower half of your face, almost smothering both your airways. All while he was pumping those big fucking fingers of his in and out, in and out, in and out, growling in your ear about how tight you were and how he loved being inside you…

“Yoooo, you’re really out of it today,” Gojo waved a hand in front of your face, and once more you were disoriented as your mind returned to the present.

Had you zoned out again? For fuck’s sake, you were a special grade sorcerer! You couldn’t keep letting yourself get distracted like this.

“I’m fine,” you lightly smack his hand away and turn to leave. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To wherever the hell they assigned us.”

Gojo threw back his head and laughed.

“Damn, you really weren’t paying attention at all,” he chuckled. “No work today. There haven’t been any special or grade 1 curses detected in Tokyo in the last 24 hours.”

“...Huh?”

Shit. You were starting to get pissed off. This man was really throwing you off. And he knew exactly what he was doing. Getting you all worked up, pressing all of your buttons, hitting you with those one liners that left you breathless and winded…

“Something is distracting you,” he sings, closing in on you while your back is against the wall and you’re still in a daze. “Wanna talk about it?”

He’s got you trapped again. Not that you mind. There was something to be said about having a giant, gorgeous man like him ogling down at you from his massive height. Licking his lips, eyeing you up like a five course meal he planned to devour. And you intended to let him feed upon you. Your head barely reaches his chest, which means you have to slightly strain your neck to look up at him as he towers over you. It’s like his whole body has encompassed you, and you’ve done nothing to stop it.

“I have nothing to say,” you respond with a gulp.

“Is that so?”

Something snakes itself under the hem of your shirt and climbs up your sides, then sneaks around to your back. You jump at the ticklish sensation, letting out a small yelp that earns a chuckle from Gojo.

“Oh, sorry. This is one of your weak spots,” he says in a honey-sweet voice, void of any remorse. “The back of your ribcage, right? If I remember correctly, you can’t handle any light touches here.”

He feathers your skin with the tips of his fingers and grins wider when you flinch and twist away. You grab his arms, knowing it’s futile, but cling to them weakly for some kind of leverage as you burst into laughter. He always does this, goes for your worst spot right away so he can see you squirm and writhe around like an animal caught in a trap. So humiliating.

“Your back is pretty sensitive too. You freak out whenever I do this.”

He runs both index fingers up your spine and laughs when you squeal and arch your back.

“S-stop!”

“Why? Are you getting turned on?”

“Shut up!”

He starts to hum as he torments you, tracing patterns and shapes on your sides as you giggle and try to wrap your arms around yourself protectively. He’s only lightly tickling you, nowhere near as intense as before, but it’s still making you weak. What’s worse is how much you are enjoying it.

“You like it when I do this. Admit it.”

Hearing that makes your cheeks flush even more. Did he just read your mind? Shit. You hope he hasn’t noticed your warmed cheeks, pray it’s not too prominent.

“See? Your skin is flushed, and you’re avoiding my eyes.”

God damn it. He stops tickling you momentarily to grab your chin and force you to look up at him. You fight it at first, refusing to open your eyes, but he is a patient man. He gently runs a thumb across the bottom of your lip, back and forth, back and forth, until you finally surrender your gaze. You stare at the gorgeous face of Gojo Satoru, half-concealed by the blindfold, wishing you could see the insatiable hunger of the Six Eyes.

“You’re embarrassed. Why? It’s just me,” he smiles.

“Because… you do this on purpose,” you retort. “You mess with me to get a rise because you think it’s funny.”

That makes him laugh again, more lighthearted than malicious. He holds your chin steady, running his fingers through your hair with his other hand.

“It’s true. I like to see you this way, all flustered and shy. It’s cute.”

His words make you pout, which only spurs him on further.

“Especially when you make that face. I can’t get enough of you, (Y/N).”

There’s no hint of mockery in his voice. Only genuine adoration. You’re still not sure if it’s a trick, or one of his seduction tactics in play. It’s impossible for you to get a read on Gojo Satoru’s intentions with you, no matter how much you analyze his words and actions. It drives you insane. It makes you want even more.

“You’ve only been here for a short time, yet look how much power you now hold over me,” he continues, simply admiring the look on your face as he sweet talks you. “I’m in trouble if anyone else finds out about my new weakness.”

“Tch! Very funny,” you roll your eyes and place your hands on his to try and pull them off your face.

“You’re being dismissive again,” he pipes up in a sing-songy voice. “Yep, that’s right. I’m starting to catch onto your little mannerisms. How does it feel, being known so intimately by another?”

You scowl at him again. “You don’t know me at all.”

“Oh, but I do,” he smirks, caressing your bottom lip and chin as he speaks. “I know you are guarded. Cautious. You don’t let people in easily, and you don’t like being emotionally vulnerable. Is it because you have been hurt in the past?”

Your frown deepens, but you say nothing. He lets go of your chin for a moment to slip a finger under his blindfold and pull it up. Your eyes lock onto his; he gazes into your soul with an intensity that makes you feel like your whole body is trembling. As he looks you up and down, admiring your face and form, his smirk grows wider and wider.

“Aha, yep! I see it now,” he sings. “A soft little heart that wants to be held and loved. The one you’ve been hiding behind that cold exterior.”

He leans down, whispering into your ear as goosebumps once more creep down your back. There’s no use trying to come up with a response. He’s won you, check and mate.

“I’m spot on, aren’t I?”

He is. Despite your strength and resistance, you find yourself turning to putty in his hands, melting at his every touch. You hate it. You love it. You will never admit to it, not out loud. But your body language was more powerful than words. Your hips gravitate towards his, slowly humping against his growing erection. Your clit had been throbbing for a while, your underwear slightly wetter than usual. Things unseen, yet not unnoticed by Gojo Satoru. Taking your chin in his grasp once more, he pulls your face forward and presses his lips against yours in a kiss while his free hand rubs against your mound. As you moan softly into his lips, you notice that he tastes sweet, probably from those damn rice cake pastries he eats all the time. You lose yourself in him, succumbing completely to his skillful hands and passionate kiss. When he finally pulls away, his hands cup both your cheeks as he once again forces you to look him in the eyes.

One of his thumbs strokes your lips again, but this time your lips move towards it. You slowly take his hand in yours and guide it into your mouth, sucking gently on his thumb, your eyes fixated on his. He must not have been expecting it, because he freezes for a moment while a look of surprise flashes through his wide, cerulean eyes. After running your tongue around his thumb, you release it and take in his index finger next. It’s large and thick. You practically have to deep throat it to get the whole thing to fit in your mouth. His skin is rough and dry, especially around the knuckles. There’s a fresh, soapy taste to it, the remnants of washed hands. That was one thing you really liked about Gojo. He was always very clean.

After a few seconds, you slip his finger out of your mouth and start kissing the palm of his hand. God, it really is huge. It almost covers your entire face. The skin on his palms is just as rough and calloused as his fingers. Your soft lips grazing over it feel strange, in a way. Tenderness connecting with tenacity.

“My, my…” he finally speaks up, a smirk returning to his face. “I knew you liked my hands, but I didn’t know you liked them this much.”

“...They’re nice,” you confess.

“Do my ears deceive me?” He suddenly pushes up against you, causing your back to slam onto the wall behind you. “Has the prickly (Y/N) finally warmed up to me?”

“Don’t make a big thing of it,” you say with a small gasp.

One beat later, and your surroundings have changed. You look around and notice the familiar walls and furniture of your living room. But… you were just at headquarters. How the hell did you end up back here?

“Huh? Gojo did you just…?”

“Sorry,” he smiles as his teeth sink into your neck. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You're given no time to think about whatever the fuck just happened. You cry out from the sudden pain, signaling him to pull back. But he doesn’t stop, opting instead to kiss up to your ear and nibble there. You’re caught between moans and giggles again, having two powerful errogenous zones stimulated at once, and bury your hands in his silver hair so you have something to grab while he stimulates every fucking nerve in your body. Meanwhile, his own hands run up and down your chest, cradling your breasts and tweaking your hardened nipples with his fingertips. He strokes the tender spot under your breasts, ushering more moans and stifled giggles from you. His mouth trails down again as he peppers kisses all over your tits, stopping only to lick and suck your nipples. You gently pull at his hair, and the two of you moan in harmonic unison.

It only lasts for a few seconds. He suddenly lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder to carry you into the bedroom. It happens so quickly you barely have time to protest; before you know it, your back falls down onto soft bedding and you’re staring up at the giant that is Gojo Satoru, who’s watching you with the eyes of a hunter about to consume his prey. He yanks his shirt over his head, unbuckles the belt on his waist as his eyes become more feral, more depraved. You begin to strip as well, peeling off your dress before unclipping your bra and tossing both to the side. You see his growing bulge threatening to break through his tight boxers and sit up, finding yourself unable to ignore it. You press your lips against the black fabric and smile when you hear him groan softly in response. You want to tease him, give him a taste of his own medicine for once, and continue kissing his hard cock through the soft layer of cloth.

He starts to lose it. He grabs your head, pulls it forward as his groans get louder, but your light kisses remain the same. You slip your two index fingers under his waistband and take note of the way his skin quivers and flinches at your touch. Interesting. You’d have to come back to that later. You slowly pull his boxers down, rendering him nude, allowing his monster cock to swing free. You can see the pale, thick member steadily pulsing; he got hard so quickly, just from this light teasing. You start to realize how truly powerful you are against him. Perhaps it was time to act on it.

You gently take his cock on one hand and kiss the tip. Your tongue peeks through your lips, swirling against it slowly and methodically. First in one direction, then the other. Sometimes with your entire tongue, and sometimes just the tip. The noises coming out of his mouth are absolutely delectable. Half moans, half whimpers, desperate sounds from a man quickly losing his composure. You keep that up for god knows how long, waiting for the right moment to take him in your mouth completely. His dick twitches and pulsates, tries leaning into your mouth, but your tongue remains solely on the tip, and your hand prevents him from thrusting any further.

“(Y/N),” he groans, sounding even more desperate. “Please…”

Wild. Gojo Satoru was starting to beg. You feel a smirk creep across your face, unearthing more of your hidden power.

“Please what?” You ask innocently. When you swirl your tongue against his tip again, he lets out an uncharacteristic cry you never once expected to come out of the strongest sorcerer in the world. He clasps his hands on the side of your head again, but before he can bring your head closer, you take his hands and hold them out in front of you.

“You want more? Then beg.”

His eyes widen momentarily, faintly glowing in the dark, curtained room. He scoffs and starts to smile, but it quickly fades when he sees the look in your eyes and realizes you mean business. You sit at the edge of the bed with one leg crossed over the other, grinning as you watch the gears turn in his head. You wonder what he’ll do now, if he’ll try to regain his dominance or surrender to you. As he stands there in awe, you break the silence with another firm command.

“On your knees.”

In a heartbeat, he obeys. Your chest flutters at the sight of Gojo Satoru kneeling before you, sitting between your knees like a devotee at the foot of a goddess. You uncross your legs, and he puts his hands on your calves, kissing up your shins until he reaches your inner thighs. You gasp, whimpering at the soft gesture of worship.

“Please… let me come inside you…” he whispers in between kisses, moving from one thigh to the other while caressing your calves with his hands. His silky lips trailing across your sensitive skin bring you pleasure unlike any other. You spend a few moments here, enjoying your command over the once-proud sorcerer before taking it further.

You lift up your foot and press the sole against his bare chest, pushing him back slightly. His gaze shifts up, and he gawks at you like a spurned lover.

“Show me how badly you want it,” you demand.

He mutters out a quiet “Yes, Miss”, making your heart melt as he takes your ankle in hand.

He plants small kisses on the top of your foot, then drags his lips across your ankle before kissing a path up your legs. He peeks at you when his lips reach the space between your thighs; your clit throbs when you meet his gaze. His eyes carry a quiet neediness, a longing for instructions, and he waits patiently for your next command.

But instead of using words, you simply grab his head, take his hair in your fists, and pull his face forward into your mound. The feeling of his warm tongue on your clit makes you release a moan so loud it echoes off the walls. With that pretty face of his buried in your pussy, he dances his tongue around your throbbing clit and groans in pleasure as he eats you out like never before. You can feel his warm breaths on your pussy lips, hear his jagged breathing as he gulps in air every now and then. You hold his head still, planning to keep him there until you’re goddamn satisfied. You’re not sure how much time passes, but after some time you decide he’s done enough. When you sense your growing wetness, you pull his head back and force him to look up at you.

“...Good boy.”

His eyes light up, and once again Gojo ogles you with a mixture of disbelief and awe. You place a hand on his neck, coaxing him onto his feet before barking out another order.

“Lay down.” You nod at the space next to you on the bed.

He practically leaps onto the bed, his dick still hard as it bounces in the air. He looks up at you expectantly, with a hint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes. You carefully climb on top of him, rubbing your pussy lips against the tip of his cock while you try to decide whether or not to let him in yet or torment him a while longer. He groans again, this time with a bit more frustration.

“What’s wrong, Gojo?” You tease, keeping a steady rhythm as you gently grind against him.

“Come on…” he whines, placing his hands on your hips to caress them.

“You want to come inside me?”

“Yes, god damn it. Yes!”

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“Fuck!” He digs his nails into your hips, slowly losing what little composure he has left. “You feel so fucking good, I need to be inside you…”

Hearing that unleashes a wave of desire within you, and in mere seconds your pussy takes him in. You grab the base of his cock and slowly lower yourself onto it, guiding his dick into your hole little by little. When he’s halfway inside, he cries out in pleasure, and when he’s all the way in, you’re almost certain he’ll come in seconds. But with a great deal of self control, Gojo remains hard as you start to bounce. Up and down, up and down, getting faster and deeper with each stroke. Your hands brace themselves on the firm mattress, beside his head, and you get a clear view of his strained facial expressions as his eyebrows knit and unknit, his lips part and mouth gapes, his breath shallow and sharp. His hands are locked on your hips, gripping them for dear life every time you lower yourself into him. A bit out of breath, you stop momentarily to rest and lean forward to kiss him on the lips. As you feel his dick pulse inside you, you start to run your hands down his sides and across his stomach. You feel his skin quiver as it did before, slightly flinching away from your hands. You smile into the kiss and make your touches more purposeful, grazing the tips of your fingernails on the sides of his chest.

His reaction is instant. He lets out a small yelp and grabs your wrists.

“D… don’t,” he pleads, panting heavily. His cock throbs inside you again. You free yourself from his grasp and place your hands on his waist once more.

“Look who’s sensitive now,” you mutter in a low voice while lightly spidering his sides. Now his vocalizations sound more like soft giggles. It’s different from his usual cocky laugh; slightly higher pitched and breathy. And as hard as he’s trying not to struggle, you can see his muscles tense at your every touch.

He’s ticklish.

You feel the walls of your pussy clench around his dick and chuckle when he moans in response. It feeds your ego even more, and as your smirk returns you realize why Gojo acts like Gojo. Holding this kind of power over someone gave you a head rush unlike any other. You tease him a bit more, tickling up and down his waist for a few more seconds just to hear his sweet, melodic laughter while avoiding his hands thrashing about. You burn the image of Gojo Satoru giggling and squirming around beneath you into your mind, knowing this memory will remain in your heart always.

“Fuck, stop!” he wheezes, and after a few more seconds you desist and show mercy.

Still with your hands on his waist, you start bouncing on his dick again, relishing in the way his panicked laughter melts into breathless moans. You can feel it; it won’t be long before he finishes inside you. You bounce faster, feel his cock shoving into you even deeper, crying out from his massive size and how fucking good it feels to have him fill you up, until he finally bursts and you feel an explosion of cum inside you. His dick twitches and throbs, letting loose smaller bursts until it finally dies down. You watch as his breathing steadies, take note of how flushed his usually pale skin has become and how damp his skin is from sweat. You carefully lift yourself off his dick and feel his cum dripping out of you, then wonder if he’s watching it too. He is. His eyes drift down to your pussy once more, and you see him smile widely as he watches his cum leak out. Something about that moves you; you lean forward to kiss him before flopping down beside him.

You lay there for a while, trying to catch your breath. He puts a hand on your cheek and turns your face towards his own, then kisses you deeply.

“I suppose you were right. I don't know everything about you,” he says when he pulls away. “Although this really shouldn't surprise me. You are a control freak, after all."

“Shut up, jackass."

You snake your arms around his waist and snuggle up closer, pressing your forehead into his chest. When you look up at him again, he takes your chin in hand and presses his lips against yours.

“And you’re amazing…”

“Mmm…”

Gojo leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw, your cheek, your eyelids and forehead. His way of showering affection on you like this makes your tender heart beat even faster. And laying with him, wrapped in each other’s arms with hands wandering all over, makes you wonder if paradise is half as good as this. You know this won’t last long, that eventually you’ll be summoned back home to the other side of the world, never to see him again.

But for now, you were content to stay in his embrace.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #female reader #minors DNI #ler gojo #lee gojo #tickling #tickle kink #jujustsu kaisen smut

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heavysoldat · 2 years

Text

naive

winter soldier!bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been naive, naive to your boss’ world who he’s been working for, what he’s done. when the winter soldier comes to clean up his mess, he finds you.

warning(s): smut (dubcon, pwp, light knife play, light breeding, rough unprotected sex, finger-fucking), surprisingly angsty, mentions of violence, stalking

TYSM FOR 1K!! i wanted to write something special to celebrate, and seeing as i’ve never written for TWS!bucky i thought i’d go ham. i don’t like this that much unfortunately but hopefully it’s just because i’ve reread it too many times lmaoo

When you signed on to be a researcher for a science laboratory in downtown Brooklyn, you did not expect to have the fear of God shot into you on a Friday afternoon.

It was supposed to be normal, a regular, slow workday— slaving away for a minimum wage, working your ass off with coworkers who barely respect you.

You had already been warned, told of your boss’ endeavors with notable crime figures— but you hadn’t cared. Didn’t mind that he had work with soldiers made beyond your comprehension. Didn’t mind the blood on his hands, as long as his pockets had money. Money to give you.

But when the lights dimmed, flickered above you, you could tell something was wrong. The air was thick, haunting, soul-eating.

It barely registered, when you first heard it; the sounds of screams, gunshots and bodies thudding against the floor was filling the air, muffled behind the door of your lab. People in the lobby, waiting rooms and other labs massacred, and here you were; hidden behind a door. Alone.

When it opens, your heart stops.

A man, over six feet in height, clad in leather, strapped with weapons trudges his way into the space.

You recognize him, know him by rumors, by papers and whispers— The Winter Soldier, Soldat, as assassin with more kills under his belt than you do lunches, eyes darker than the Devil himself, so cryptic and unimaginable that his existence is fought over.

Your heart quickens, killing you with it’s throb, his footsteps getting closer as he approaches you swiftly. You leap backwards and knock into a table, grabbing your own weapon— the only one issued by corporate, you live in a world where aliens exist, for god’s sake— only to realize it's not loaded.

His hands reach out, grabbing your arms, shoving you towards him. You scream, but he covers your mouth with his hand, shining metal. You brace yourself, ready to be executed like your coworkers outside— heart plummeting into the depths of your stomach.

But instead— you’re just being pinned, back to the desk, listening to his heavy panting through his mask.

You open your eyes, bracing for it. He’s almost two feet taller than you, a bulky, beefy mass of weight, towering over you with a dark gaze. The makeup around his eyes darkens them, the blue shining in the bright light of the laboratory, his dark, long hair covering half of his eyes.

"Tell me what you know about the rat," He growls, his voice making your skin itch. You’re practically trembling, shaking underneath him, horrified by what he could do.

"I don't… I don't know what you're talking about." You pant, voice shaking.

He snarls, leaning in, so close that you can feel his hot breath on your face.

"Don't play dumb with me.”

"I'm not, I'm not," You whimper, terrified. "I swear. I don't know anything."

“You work for Gunn,” He says. “I watch from under him. I see you. I know you. You can’t lie to me.”

Your employer was a dick, that’s for fucking sure, but working with Hydra was the last assumption you had on your mind. The Soldat whips a knife from his gear, holding it in his flesh hand, threatening you with just it’s presence.

“I’m not lying,” You cry, “Please, I’m not lying. I just work here, fuck, I don’t know anything!”

He raises his knife, as if to slit your throat—

Then he stops.

He looks at you— his stare making you feel like he can read you, read your heart, your soul, your mind— every little thought that races through your brain. He says something to you in a language you don’t understand. The words sound harsh and grating against each other.

"You are naive, little rabbit."

Your eyes furrow, deeper than they had been. It confuses you, making you panic— but if he was going to kill you, wouldn’t he have done it by now?

“Naive to your world. Who you work under.”

The knife slides through his fingers like drumsticks, flicking through and gleaming within the lights. It trails down your cheek, neck, cleavage, before it slices through your shirt and rips it open.

"No," you whimper.

He tilts his head, almost like a canine. He scans you, accessing you, breathing you. “No?”

You can’t do anything but whimper again. “Don’t— don’t kill me, please.”

He tsks at you, sliding the knife down through your breasts. The pressure isn’t hard enough to break the skin, but it’s enough to threaten you with it— threaten you with the idea of carving you open. Your chest heaves against it, sobs wracking through your chest.

“I have no use for killing you.”

“Wh… what?”

With his hands, he tears the torn fabric off of your skin, peeling it away just enough to expose you. You yelp, watching as the knife tears your pants with it; leaving you bare, barely covered by scraps of your ruined clothes.

He’s tracing your skin with his fingertips, rubbing along your goosebumps, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens. When they get lower, closer to your sex, you squeeze your legs closed; but he rips them back open.

“I won’t hurt you, little one.”

His metal fingers slide through your folds, glistening with some of the wetness your sex has already provided. One finger glides into your hole, prodding you open— the growl he lets out surprises you, jumps you, makes you scan his face. He’s been so emotionless, so mechanical, like nothing but a machine; but he’s taking pleasure from your body, and he’s letting you know.

“Stay open for me,” He says. “Take it.”

Another slides in, and they begin to scissor inside of you. They get faster, twisting and abusing your cunt, hitting the spongey part inside you with reckless abandon. You can’t help but moan in whine; out of fear or pleasure, you don’t know.

“Little one…” His voice is deep, dark. “Has your lover ever filled you this way?”

“What— what?” Your voice is barely a whisper, consumed by what he’s giving you.

“I’ve watched you.” He says. “I’ve watched him take you. Over, and over. He cannot fill you like I can.”

Before you can even process, make sense of what he’s just told you; he’s tearing off the pants of his tactical gear, his throbbing, thick cock jumps to his stomach, slapping your thigh as it’s freed.

"I've stared through your window, at night. Every day as I stalk, assessing you for the job—“ He snarls, his fingers sliding outside of your pussy. With the wetness from inside of you, he rubs your clit with harsh pressure, just as fast as he finger fucked you. “I watched him take you. Watched him fuck you. He’s pathetic— useless.”

His other arm, free, rubs at your arm. It’s jarring, how caring it feels, compared to everything else he’s showed you. It’s loving. Romantic.

“Tell me you need me.”

When you look at him, you’re shocked. His eyes are filled with nothing but heartbreak. He’s begging, pleading to you. Desperate for you to let him take you. Desperate for something you can’t figure out.

“I-“ You start, lip quivering, heart aching, “I need you.”

When the words leave your mouth, he whines, deep in the back of his throat. The fingers on your clit move to grab your waist, before he slides his cock into your pussy- already soaked, already stretched for him. Just for him.

He doesn’t waste any time. Within seconds, he’s pounding into you, slamming you against your desk with the force of his fucking. You can hear items scatter, fall to the floor, accompanied by his wild grunts and groans.

He’s too big. You’re surprised he’s even fitting inside you, the thickness of him enough to make your head spin. He forces you down his cock, grunting and snarling underneath his mask.

"Tell me you need me," He snarls. "Tell me you need me, little one. That he is nothing compared to me. To how I stretch you."

“I need you,” You gasp, holding onto him for dear life. You’re surprised by how truthful your words feel, how much they make sense to you. How right they feel.

"Can he take you like this, little one? Can he take you like I can?"

All in all— the words he uses feel correct. He’s not fucking you. He’s taking you.

“No,” Your cunt clenches around him, begging him to keep fucking you, “He can’t. Fuck- no, he can’t!”

That makes him growl. He pushes you down, slamming your back against the table, using it as leverage to pound into you deeper. Your hair forms a halo around your head, nails digging into his thighs for dear life, hard enough to make him bleed.

"I want to be inside you whenever you're with him," He snarls. “I want your screams to be mine. Your pussy to be mine.”

The feelings coursing through your body explode as you fall into a pit of heat, feeling waves of pure ecstasy and euphoria crash over you. He keeps fucking you while you cum, not bothering to slow down as you tremble and shake against him.

“I want to fill you with my cum,” He groans. “Mark you as mine. Make you mine.”

You need that. Fuck, you need that.

“Yes,” You’re sobbing, pliant underneath him, being fucked and manhandled like a toy for his pleasure— but his words are humanizing, impactful and claiming. It’s so much, it’s too much for you to handle.

“Tell me you want that,” He sobs, body wracked with pleasure. “Tell me you want it!”

When you don’t respond, he slaps the inside of your thigh, making you cry out— “I want it, fuck, please! I want it!”

“More,” He roars with approval, “Tell me more.”

You’re incoherent, trying so hard to give him what he needs; “Mark me, claim me, cum inside me— I want you to fill me, I need you to breed me,”

His hands dig into you hard enough to make his knuckles white, before he’s moaning, screaming, whining, pumping you full of his spend. His orgasm lasts minutes, enough cum to drip out of you and puddle on the floor.

You find yourself falling again, cumming one more time around his cock, gripping him like a vice. Your eyes shut as your orgasm takes over, thighs shaking, teeth chattering. You feel like all the air has been crushed out of your lungs.

He's grunting and snarling, his hips snapping against your ass as he finishes you. You'd be sore in the morning.

After your breath evens out, his hand, metal, grasps your jaw in his palm. With loving strokes to your cheek, he stares down at your trembling form. He hums.

“You’re mine, little one. I don’t plan on letting you go.”

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #my writing #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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sstormyskyess · 4 months

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Pitch Black - Prologue

author's note: hello hello everyone!! welcome to my first long form series on this blog! i'm excited to share this story i've been cooking up since summer last year and i hope everyone likes it as much as i've had fun brainstorming it 😊 this is gonna be a little short prologue to set the mood and give a little context for reader so things make sense later on! please enjoy 💜

cw: descriptions of injury, mentions of vomiting

word count: 1400+

Everyone and their mother knows that Russian winters were ruthless. It was a widely accepted fact, even for those who hadn’t personally experienced one of said agonizing winters. Snowfall was common for six months out of the year, and the temperatures could reach —44 degrees fahrenheit.

Cold air seeped in from under the door of the tiny room you were confined in. You shivered while you sat on the old, flimsy cot against the back wall of the solitary prison cell. Your vision was unfocused and blurry, though it was hard to tell because it was too dark to see anything. The walls were made of dark concrete and half-rotted wood slats. It smelled musty and stale, the air circulation in the room severely lacking.

You wince when the door suddenly opens, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to block out the blinding LED lights beaming into the room out of nowhere. Your breath catches in your throat from the surprise, your chest stinging from the feeling. You peek an eye open when a metal food tray clatters to the floor. The sound was deafening as it cut through the murky silence you had been wallowing in, making you bring your hands up to cover your ears. The man that dropped the tray barks something at you in Russian before slamming the door shut once again.

Konni Group.

An up and coming Russian private military company, the target of your squad’s operation, and the people that had taken you prisoner.

The stated goal of your team was to clear out a known Konni base and to capture or kill the colonel they knew was posted up there. The POI had led a recent attack on a U.S. arms convoy and taken a number of highly lethal weaponry from the wreckage. The weapons were likely hidden somewhere in the base, and it was imperative to locate them before they were used anywhere.

The operation had gone less than optimally. It was doomed to fail from the start; the intel your squad was given was faulty, you had your cover blown by an ambush, and to cap it all off, the chaos allowed for Konni to get their hands on you and whisk you away.

The only thing you could think of was time. How long had it been since you’d been thrown in here? Days, weeks, months? You couldn’t tell. Just thinking about it made your head hurt.

The only measurement you had was how long it was between the miniscule amount of food you were granted by your captors on a seemingly random schedule. You were practically able to feel your body consuming itself, your stomach growling at you angrily. You would cry, but the waterworks had run dry ages ago. You couldn’t afford to lose any more water; you didn’t have that privilege anymore.

Years of active service in the U.S. Marines had gotten you used to grueling conditions, but nothing like this. Even out in the field, dispatched from whatever base you were stationed in, you knew you’d be able to secure some kind of sustenance. Food and water felt like a luxury now.

Despite the cold, the hunger, and the wear and tear on your body, both internal and external, the worst part was the lack of contact. You couldn’t even hear anyone moving outside, no matter how hard you strained your ears. There was no light peeking from under the door, so you couldn’t track shadows moving. The only indication that someone was behind the door was the meager rations being put into the cell. Between those meals, for all you knew, no one was present in the facility anymore.

Too much time had passed for anyone to still be looking for you or trying to rescue you. It hurt, at first. The feeling of being forgotten or being considered disposable had been crippling for a while, so painfully debilitating that it had you weeping endlessly for days, maybe even a week or more. The muscles of your stomach ached afterwards. Mixed with all the kicks and punches you suffered from interrogations, your heaving sobs had you nauseous and throwing up bile frequently.

You ruminated over what could possibly be the reason you were still being kept here instead of being executed. You weren't being interrogated anymore by now. You were just left with the wounds that you sustained from hours upon days upon weeks of interrogation. The bruises had healed, but the cuts were infected from the shoddy cauterizing job they had attempted. It felt like the bones that were broken were healing incorrectly.

You sigh shakily, your perpetually shivering body getting uncomfortable, so you try to shift a bit. The only thing you accomplished by trying to roll over on your tiny stone cold cot was falling face down onto the floor. You wince and give a weak groan, curling up and holding your stomach. You try your hardest to just close your eyes and get some sleep, no matter how restless it was.

When you woke up, you were finally back in the present. You were finally back in the little old house that you found after escaping that Konni facility, the sun just barely rising over the horizon.

It had been two years since you were abducted. The realization hit you hard. Two years you spent in that dark, cold, suffocating cell. Two years you spent withering away, slowly but surely. Two years you spent in your own special hell, alone, battered and beaten, left scarred for years and years to come.

You roll over and get out of the bed, a headache already springing forth in your head, making you rub your temples. You sigh and amble over to your rucksack full of all the essentials—well, most of them at least. You frown at the sight that greets you. Only a few MREs left and all of them were your least favorites. But, you’ve been through worse.

You pace around the room as you eat, reading some of the files you pulled off the rickety table in the corner of the tiny one room cabin. You scan the files and run a thumb over the insignia on the front of the manila folder containing everything you needed for your next job.

Al Qatala.

A terrorist organization based out of Urzikstan, the current boogeyman of the western world, and your current contractor.

The life of a freelance intel agent was an interesting one, to say the least. You had been around the world making problems for a countless number of political and military bodies, but the money was worth it. Not to mention the anonymity that came with not being tied down to any one organization.

You went off the grid after you escaped from Konni. You wanted to go back to normal life, but something in you told you to stay away from it all. Maybe it was the fear of being found and captured again. The logical side of your brain told you that there was no reason they would want you back, but it was hard to reason with a brain torn apart by the sort of trauma you went through.

You hadn’t cared to check up on any of your old teammates. There was an underlying resentment present in the back of your mind. You were betrayed by them, after all. They left you for dead and didn’t look back. Thinking back on it made you frown. You watched them leave you behind with no hesitation, run away without looking back. So much for no man left behind, right?

By the time you snap out of your frustrated thoughts, you’re already finished with your food. Your headache has gotten worse. You groan and pinch the bridge of your nose. You would really have to invest in some painkillers.

Based on how high the sun has gotten, you figure it’s about time to get moving. At least focusing on this job would keep your mind off the events that led you here. You flip through a folder and look at the location that was printed on one of the papers. Then, you take a peek at the pictures of the people you were meant to track.

Task Force 141.

A multinational task force recently founded, a team dedicated to making the world a better place, and ones that had been causing problems for your current contractor.

You take a deep breath and pack all your things away, ready yourself for the trek to the task force’s current location, and leave the cabin with the determination that kicks in whenever you set out on a mission.

𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#tf 141 x reader #konni group #al qatala #mw2 fanfic #mw3 fanfic #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 3 #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #modern warfare fanfic #cod mw2 fic #cod mw3 fic #mwii #mwiii #sstormyskyess pitch black #storm's creations #sstormyskyess

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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hot n cold // esteban ocon

summary: two years of drama, adrenaline and a doomed friends-with-benefits relationship with esteban ocon are shaping up to be the death of olympic archer y/n szafnauer as she finds herself off the archery circuit with a wrist sprain. the relationship wasn't supposed to mean anything. until y/n szaufner wishes that it would, wishes that esteban would just tell her how he really feels.

pairing: esteban ocon x female szafnauer!reader

warnings: a few small smut scenes. miscommunication and pining. fernando, daniil and oscar being done with everybody's bullshit. pregnancy scare is integral to the plot. slight lawrence stroll jumpscare. existential crisis as y/n worries about her future and the teenage years she feels like she never had, a little bit of toxicity on either end of the relationship. jack and oscar being loveable dipshits, fernando being a disappointed father. otmar being the really disappointed father.

2021 Season

she appeared in the paddock in a flurry of skinny jeans, heeled sandals and and a cropped camp shirt in british racing green, open over her black, lacy bralette. her eyes were hidden behind rose-gold sunglasses, a metal straw in between her lips as she sipped her caramel iced coffee.

esteban ocon and daniil kvyat were sitting outside the alpine hospitality suite, the reserve driver laughing as esteban's jaw dropped, his eyes following the woman as she stopped to talk to laurent rossi, the team principal.

"close your mouth, ocon." daniil laughed. "you'll catch flies."

"who is that?" esteban asked, nodding in the woman's direction. "she's beautiful."

"that's y/n szafnauer, otmar's daughter. she was on america's olympic archery team."

"i didn't realize that otmar had a daughter. he's not that old, is he?"

daniil shrugged, thinking about the aston martin team principal. "he's pushing sixty, i thought."

"how old is the daughter?" esteban asked, reaching for his phone to punch her name into the search bar. "quick question: how do you spell szafnauer?"

the reserve driver sighed, knowing exactly where his colleague's mind was going. "esteban, that is not a road that you want to go down, comrade."

"but look at her, mate. she's so hot."

he glanced at the screen, reading the first headline that appeared underneath the google box with her name, accolades and birth date: szafnauer to miss milwaukee open following vegas wrist injury.

"esteban ocon, if you know what is good for you, you will not flirt with otmar's daughter. promise me."

esteban rolled his eyes as he made the promise with daniil.

a promise that the fully intended to break. because y/n szafnauer had him under her spell, and they hadn't even had a full conversation yet.

on the other end of the paddock, y/n was walking up the steps of the aston martin hospitality, giving lawrence stroll a hug as she tried to find her father.

"lawrence, have you seen dad?"

the team owner laughed, gesturing to the offices in the back of the building. "he's in a meeting with the engineers, but he should be done in under half an hour. how's the off season?"

she shrugged, thinking about the bow and arrow at the back of her closet. the way her fingers itched to be back around the slender body of an arrow. lawrence didn't miss the way that her pointer finger nervously tapped the side of her plastic starbucks cup.

"you know how it is. there's not really an off season for us like there is for you guys. always looking to the future."

"well, i wish you the best of luck, y/n."

"you too, lawrence." she nodded, slowly backing away, as she would have felt awkward being the first to exit the conversation with the stroll patriarch.

she waled through the brightly-lit hospitality building, the sun reflecting off the bright white walls as she knocked on the door to her father's office.

"hey kiddo." otmar szafnauer smiled, glancing up from his laptop. "how's the wrist?"

"still sprained. i don't know if i'm going to be able to get back on the circuit this year." she admitted sadly, slumping don in one of the chairs opposite her father's desk. "i don't know what to do, dad. i don't know who i am without archery."

"you could always travel with us for a little bit." otmar suggested, thinking about the girl across from him, remembering when she was just a twelve year old who picked up a bow and arrow at summer camp and never looked back. he remembered standing there at the olympic medal ceremony, watching his daughter stand on the podium with a large bouquet of flowers and a gold medal around her neck, and he wished that he didn't have to see her look so defeated.

y/n snorted. "yeah right. the doctors said i was supposed to relax. what part of this lifestyle is realxing? i'm surprised you haven't had a heart attack yet."

"knock on wood, young lady." otmar said jokingly, rapping his knuckles on the surface of his desk. "a change of scenery might do you some good. all the guys love having you around. you just need to find a way back to yourself, darling. you need to find the y/n that you are when you don't have a bow in your hand."

"and what if she died when i was sixteen, dad?"

"and what if she didn't?"

y/n laughed, knowing exactly what her father was doing. "come on, dad. i'll stay for two weeks, until my next follow up appointment, if that will make you happy." she nodded her head back towards the door. "have you told lawrence that you're thinking of leaving yet."

otmar shook his head, casting a sad look at his daughter. "i don't want to tell him until anything is certain."

later that night, after the qualifying session, the teams went out drinking. the bar was buzzing with energy with the two ferrari drivers singing 'don't go breaking my heart' by the jukebox in the corner, arms around shoulders and beer bottles held up high.

y/n sat at the edge of the booth, keeping distance between herself and the crew members. she was wearing a tight cotton sheath dress, white with blue flowers on the fabric. she had taken her wrist brace off before she left the hotel, and she was already starting to regret it.

she needed to be able to get back out there before the year was over if she wanted any chance of the big-shots in 2022.

with a sigh, she grabbed her purse and made her way back up the bar, craving something stronger than the club soda she had just finished. she had promised her father that she would be on her best behavior that evening, but if charles and carlos were allowed to get as drunk as they were, there should be no reason why she wasn't allowed to have a drink or two.

esteban ocon had been watching her from the alpine table. when he saw her go to the bar, he moved to meet her there. he had been waiting the entire day to make his move, against daniil's better judgement.

"dude, what is wrong with you?" the russian hissed, grabbing esteban's arm. across the table, fernando alsonso raised his eyebrows.

"i feel like there's a story here." the spaniard said with a grin, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"esteban here has a little crush on y/n szafnauer."

"no." fernando said sharply. not in surprise, not in question, as a definitive. "she's so far out of you league, don't even waste your time."

"thanks for the support." esteban huffed. "from both of you. now, if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go and work my french charm and buy her a strong drink."

"if you say so." fernando grinned, looking forward to watching his younger teammate crash and burn.

so imagine how surprised both of the remaining alpine drivers were when, an hour later, y/n and esteban could be spotted quietly slipping out of the front door, giggling together as they made their way to esteban's car.

the night ended with esteban's head in between her thighs, his tongue and his fingers stretching her out before her flipped her over on the bed, taking her from behind until they were both spent.

"mon dieux." esteban cursed, thrusting his cock into her deeply as she moaned underneath him. "you feel so good, mon ange. such a good girl for me, taking my cock so nicely."

"oh, esteban! yes, yes, god."

and that was how it started. one night turned into two, turned into three and suddenly neither of them knew what it was, finding their way back to each other every time. three races go by, and y/n finally gets the all-clear from her doctors to return to the professional circuit.

and she didn't realize the void that leaving the track would leave in her heart. not just because she missed her father, but because her bed was back to being empty every night, esteban's lanky body not next to hers any more.

instead of nights filled with riveting sex, french dirty talk, and talking about hopes and dreams for the future with their limbs tangled together under cotton sheets, she was finding it increasingly difficult to fall asleep, even after coming home from long training sessions with aching arms and sore feet, dropping her quiver and immediatley falling into bed just to stare at the off-white ceiling.

she had no idea that esteban felt the same, unable to get her off his mind, unable to find that same sense of calm in someone else that he found in y/n szafnauer. other girls wouldn't do it for him any more, but god did he try everything in distraction. instead, every hookup just left him feeling dirty and unsatisfied.

but there were never labels on what they had, no procedure on if they were supposed to miss each other or not. they were nothing but friends who occasionally (or more often than that) slept together, right?

so it would be strange for esteban to call her up and ask to come see her at the next invitational, right? well, the right opportunity fell right into his lap when lance mentioned how otmar had given his father tickets to go and see y/n's invitational in japan and that lance and chloe would be going, as chloe was a close friend of y/n's. as it stood, there was one ticket left, and it would either be going to esteban or mick.

but of course, like most men, esteban ocon thinks with his dick, and the one thing that his cock wanted more than anything in that moment was to be back inside the archer.

two weeks later, he found himself in japan, in the outdoor archer stadium, his eyes scanning the field from the vip box to see y/n in her lavender under armour polo and those tight little navy leggings, hair pulled back in the way that he always held it as she sucked him off.

y/n crossed the pitch to her target, pulling out the handful of arrows that she had been working with that morning. it was her third major invitational back after medical leave, and she felt. . .off. at this point, she wasn't sure if it was because she was falling in love with esteban ocon or if it had something to do with her wrist again. she couldn't afford to have another injury. she was already twenty-five, which is a death sentence for an athlete.

she held the metal arrows in her hand as she turned to walk back to the white chalk line all archers fired from, and that's when she saw him in the crowd, with lance and chloe. it was impossible not to see him, his lanky figure towering over everybody else.

her breath caught in her throat, her heart beating faster as she remembered what they had done the last time they were together.

as the competition started, she had to force herself to keep her cool, to breathe normally as she notched an arrow, lining up the shot with the target. pretending that esteban's eyes weren't glued to her as she let the arrow fly, grinning to herself as she landed a perfect bullseye.

she took home silver that day, and all she could think about was how she wished her father had bothered to show up. otmar was currently in england, finalizing the last little contract details that would cement his switch from aston martin to wherever the fuck else, but the romanian had promised to attend the next grand slam.

instead, she was stuck with the strolls and the one man she wanted to see the most, even though they'd been terrible to each other over the last year.

victory didn't feel the way that it used to.

as she stepped of the podium, she just felt empty as she thought about everything that she had given up to get there. chloe stroll was really the only friend that she had left outside of the sport.

"great job, babes!" the canadian laughed, pulling y/n in for a hug before giving her a massive bouquet of flowers. "i know your dad is proud of you. we sure as hell all are."

"thanks, chloe." she put on a brave face, smiling at the singer before shaking hands with lance, and then coming face to face with him. "hey." she said softly, hesitant to meet esteban's gaze.

"hi." the frenchman sounded just as unsure as the archer did. "i'm really proud of you, y/n. you did incredible out there."

y/n smiled nervously, brushing some stray hairs out of her face. "thanks, esteban. seriously. i've missed you since i left the track."

"me too." the alpine driver said softly, reaching for her hand. she allowed him to bring her knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand that sent shockwaves through her skin.

that got her wondering: was he just being a gentleman, or did esteban truly feel the same way that she did?

at the afterparty that night, y/n had a lot of mingling to do, but she only wanted the attention of one person: esteban ocon. it was with the alpine driver in mind that she slected her dress: a cotton bodycon dress with a cutout in the top that showed off her cleavage, and a pair of plastic stiletto heels, her hair pulled back in a seductive yet prim bun at the back of her head.

she had hands to shake and sponsors to greet, and with a champagne flute in hand, she kept a look out with the corner of her eye for esteban. she found him, but what she saw when her eyes found his made her stomach churn.

esteban was talking to a tall blonde from australia, the one who had won bronze. the wannabe pageant queen. and clearly she had esteban's attention, with the frenchman laughing loudly at something the woman had said.

y/n didn't understand why her blood was boiling the way that it was. she and esteban weren't anything special, although his skills in the bedroom certainly were.

so why did she immediately grab her purse and walk out, hyperaware of the frenchman's gaze on her ass, which was barely covered by her dress.

somehow she knew that esteban would follow her outside, into the cool japanese night.

"i wasn't going to sleep with her, you know. you do not have to think that little of me, szafnauer."

y/n rolled her eyes, turning to look at him. "it's not my problem, ocon." the words almost hurt her to say. "we aren't anything. you can flirt with whomever you want."

esteban raised his eyebrows. "so why do you look so upset?"

"i'm not." she said lowly, stepping closer and running her fingers up the front of esteban's suit jacket. "i just thought that you were coming home with me tonight."

and so it went, the same old story. her dress ended up on the floor, a lacy thong thrown over a lampshade, a tie gently holding her wrists together behind her back, esteban's trousers on the floor.

a cycle they were doomed to repeat for as long as they were scared of admitting how they felt about each other.

"esteban?" she asked quietly, scared to break the spell as they lay side by side, the frenchman's nimble fingers twirling her hair around his pointer finger. "do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if you weren't who you are?"

"what do you mean, mon tresor?" the driver hummed, dropping her hair.

"i mean that i've been in this life since i was sixteen. there's a lot of shit i missed out on. i never went to prom, never went on dates. in between school and archery, i didn't really have anything else. i reckon that i didn't even have too many proper, genuine friends either. because of who my dad was, they thought i could get them into races, you know? get them an in with the drivers."

esteban thought for a minute. "your twenty-sixth is coming up, isn't it? that would mean that your career lasted a solid decade. i see no reason why you can't retire, or at the very least take a step back. life is too short not to go for what you want."

what if what i want is you, esteban ocon?

"what if, right now, i just wanted you?"

the driver smirked, ducking underneath the covers so that his head was between her thighs. "then that's what you'll get, mon ange."

2022 Season

szafnauer to take a step back from the competitive circuit, focus on life after archery

finding life after archery was harder than y/n szafnauer thought. her father had left aston martin, and gone to alpine, where, low and behold, she would constantly run into esteban.

even when the french driver was the last person she wanted to see, because every time they saw each other, it ended the same way: with the two of them naked.

but with every night spent together, the lines blurred even further. more nights were spent having deep, meaningful conversations over a bottle of wine, or cuddling together on the hotel couch while esteban commentated on shitty french comedy films.

they were crossing lines left and right, terrified to admit it to themselves or each other.

she couldn't let this go any further, she thought to herself, slipping out of esteban's bed and gathering her clothes from the night before, hastily pulling a guess sweatshirt over her head, and the jeans that she'd bought because they were cheap and comfortable (from old navy, at that- the furthest thing from a brand name!). hopin gthe frenchman wouldn't wake, she pressed a kiss to esteban's forehead before quietly slipping out of the hotel room.

as she heard the door click shut, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, turning around to almost run directly into fernando alonso.

"y/n? isn't that esteban's room- oh." the spaniard was at a loss for words when he realized what exactly that meant. "so, you and esteban?"

y/n's eyes widened. "it's not what you think. okay, maybe it is! but you cannot tell my father. if my dad finds out, it doesn't end well for any of us?" she pleaded with the older man

"so you're making me an accomplice."

"exactly! so glad you understand, thanks fernando!" she shouted as she took off down the hallway, hoping that nobody else would notice.

but of course, ignorance couldn't be bliss forever. especially not when y/n szafnauer was standing outside the alpine motorhome after spending the whole morning hurling her guts out in a hotel toilet, staring down at the period tracker app on her phone.

your period is fourteen days late.

there was only one person that the father could be, one person that caused this. she didn't even want to think about telling her father. first things first, esteban needed to know, and then they both needed to find out if she really was pregnant.

holding her breath, she stepped into the motorhome with shaky hands, hoping that her father wasn't around, knowing that otmar would rain hell down on the team for the entire race weekend. he needed to keep his head in the game, as did the rest of the team personnel.

"hey y/n!" a voice called from the hospitality.

she turned around, meeting eyes with oscar piastri, the barely-contracted reserve driver. over the past year, y/n had heard all about her father's ill-advised lawsuit to keep the aussie with the team, and his unawareness at just how laughable his case even was.

anybody with a brain could have told otmar that he was going to lose the appeal.

"hey, oscar." she hoped that her voice wasn't shaky as she spoke to the young driver. "you haven't seen esteban this morning, by chance, have you? i know it's media day, but the pen was empty when i walked past."

oscar coughed, swallowing the last of his croissant. "i think he's in his driver's room. hey, so fernando told me something this morning-"

"thank you, oscar!" she cut him off, clapping him on the shoulder before she hurried down a hallway, hoping to avoid confronation with quite literally anybody else.

if fernando had told oscar, who else already knew?

"esteban?" she called out, knocking on the driver's room door. "esteban jean-jaques ocon! i need to talk to you!"

she was about to pound on the door again when it opened, giving way underneath her knuckles.

"y/n?" esteban raised his eyebrows "what are you doing here?"

"um, my dad works here, jackass." she was done being nice, shoving past esteban and taking a seat on his massage couch. "we need to talk."

"so you said. you know fernando saw you leave my hotel room this morning?"

"fernando is the least of our worries." she blurted out, showing esteban her phone screen. the frenchman cocked his head in confusion, and the former archer cut him off before he could ask what that meant. "i could be pregnant, esteban. and we need to decided what to do from here."

"she might be what!" the unmistakable voice came from behind the door to the driver's room, panic setting in as esteban ripped the door open, causing two drivers to topple into the small space.

oscar piastri and jack doohan had been listening from the other side of the door, fernando alonso shaking his head at them from further up the hallway.

"this is what you cabrons get for eavesdropping."

the aussie junior drivers clumsily got up from the floor, hanging their heads in shame at being caught.

"is it true?" jack asked quietly. "is y/n pregnant."

"jack!" oscar scolded. "we are in enough trouble!"

"enough!" y/n shouted, shaking her head. "we don't know. i was hping just to have this conversation with esteban, seeing as how he's the only one it concerns. and now the entire goddamn team knows."

"sorry." oscar said, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. the rookie had decided it was better to keep his head down now that the court case had been settled and he'd be moving to mclaren the following season. "at least abbi doesn't know."

"don't make this worse for yourself, kid." fernando sighed. "let the adults talk."

"i am twenty-one years old!"

jack coughed. "actually, i sort of am still a kid."

"exactly. so mind your business."

esteban shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "they already know, fernando. if you send them away, they'll just blab. putain! none of this can get back to otmar, you guys hear me?"

"so what do we do from here?" y/n asked, head in her hands. it's not that she hadn't started thinking about settling down now that she was taking a break from archery, but she didn't expect it to be this soon.

she wanted to rediscover who she was first, and it was going to be hard to do that with a child on her hip.

"we keep oscar and jack somewhere where they won't gossip." fernando suggested. "since this entire mess is esteban's fault and i like watching him squirm, he gets to go out and buy the pregnancy tests. three different ones, each a different brand. cuts down on the chance of a false reading."

"why do i have to do it?" esteban gawked at the same time that jack asked "what do you know about pregnancy tests, old man?"

"i'm forty three years old and divorced, you do the math, kid." fernando said, quickly quieting the doohan boy, who promptly returned to staring at the ground. "esteban, you have to do it because y/n is already stressed enough. speaking of, y/n, do you want a coffee or something while esteban is out."

"yeah, actually." she said slowly, reaching fro esteban's hand for some kind of comfort.

he didn't reach back, his hand limp in hers. feeling like she had been punched in the gut, she dropped his hand, following fernando out into the hospitality suite for a much needed caffeinated drink.

"so..." the senior driver started, placing two fresh coffee's on the table. "you and esteban?"

"what about us?"

"is it serious?"

y/n snorted. "it's barely even a relationship. it's like we're drawn to each other, we fuck, and then we have these incredible conversations over a bottle of wine, and then it's like we don't even know each other."

"can we talk friend-of-esteban to friend-of-esteban?"

"that's not how this works, alonso."

"well, it's hardly man-to-man, is it? the cabron is head over heels in love with you, and he has been for two years. he's just a coward who won't admit how he actually feels about you."

she had suspected as much, and this conversation was confirming it for her. they were both as scared as the other: scared to rock the boat, scared to ruin what they already had with each other.

"what am i supposed to do, fernando?"

fernando gave her a knowing look, placing his hand over hers. "you tell him how you feel, and then you take the tests."

"but what if they're positive?"

"he'd be an asshole to run away, and i don't see that happening. i think that he would lay down his life for you, kiddo. give him some credit. not a lot, but some."

"and then i guess i have to tell my dad."

fernando gave her a pitiful glance, one that said everything that he couldn't. "can't help you there, y/n. that one's gotta be all you-"

"i'm back!' an out-of-breath esteban ocon proclaimed, appearing next to the table. "i got three different ones, each a different make, just like fernando said." he spoke fast, and he spoke nervously, backwards alpine ball-cap covering his disheveled hair. he'd done nothing but run his fingers over his scalp and regret every life choice he had ever made.

but especially not telling y/n he loved her.

"okay." she gulped. "let's get this show on the road."

all three sticks were locked at loaded, face up on the counter in the bathroom, a timer set on esteban's phone, all three sets of instructions nervously clutched in y/n's hand.

"y/n?" esteban asked quietly, reaching out for her free hand. "what are we doing? we can't go on like this."

"like what?"

"this. i can't do it anymore, because i think that i've fallen in love with you. no, i know that i've fallen in love with you and i've just been too scared to say it. fuck." he was out of breath despite not having said much, the anxiety eating away at his stomach. "i love you, y/n szafnauer."

"he said it!" oscar's shout could be heard for miles, and he continued yelling as esteban and y/n tried to get the young aussie to be quieter. "jack, mate, you owe me twenty quid!"

"fucking crikey, mate." jack whined. "fine, you win this one. but did the dumbass get her knocked up?"

"jack doohan!" y/n scolded. "why are you dumbasses still here?"

there was a creaking on the staricase next to them, followed by the voice of the person that everybody wanted to see the least.

"what on earth is this fucking yelling? some of us actually have work to do today!" otmar szafnauer shouted, freezing in his tracks when he saw his daughter, pregnancy test intructions clutched in one hand, the other held securely within the hand of otmar's second driver.

"dad," y/n started. "i promise you, it's not what it looks like."

"y/n y/m/n szafnauer, why are you holding pregnancy test instructions?"

oscar's eyes widened, and he turned to look at jack. "dude, does hospitality have popcorn?"

"no idea." jack shook his head. "i bet the other academy guys don't get to witness this shitshow every day. just wait until we tell them."

"you're both idiots." fernando huffed, knocking the two young aussies heads together. "this does not leave the motorhome, do you hear me?"

"dad-" y/n tried to reason before otmar cut her off.

"no buts, y/n! who have you been fucking all this time? was it oscar? daniil? because if it was that russian motherfucker, i swear to god i will find his address and hunt him for sport!"

"at least we know it wasn't me, mate." jack offered up, trying to lessen the tension in the motorhome. "because i'm not an adult yet, remember?"

"shut up jack!"

the f2 driver got the message loud and clear. "okay, shutting up."

"oh dear god?" otmar closed his eyes, hands in front of his face in the prayer position. "please tell me . . . tell me that it wasn't. . .it's not. . . fernando, is it?"

y/n physically recoiled, fighting the urge to gag. "christ, dad! who the fuck do you think i am?"

"i was just checking!"

"my standards may not be super high," fernando admitted. "but i would never fuck my boss' twenty-five year old daughter."

"i'm twenty-six, fernando."

"my mistake. sorry, kiddo."

otmar turned back to his daughter, something akin to disappointment hiding behind the initial betrayal in his eyes. "we used to tell each other everything, y/n. and now i find out that you've been seeing one of my drivers behind my back?"

the sadness in her father's eyes made y/n crack then and there. she missed how close she and her father had once been.

"it's esteban. we've been seeing each other for two years, dad."

"oh sweet jesus." otmar muttered, before he starting rambling in romanian under his breath. "esteban jean-jaques ocon, when this is all said and done, i need to see you in my office."

"i understand, sir." esteban nodded, moving his hand from y/n's so that he could put his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. "but believe me when i say that i am in love with your daughter, and i plan to do right by her."

"estie, we don't even know if there is a baby yet." she said softly, turning to look at him. "what are we supposed to do?"

"we try again. start completely from scratch, from square one, as if the past two years never happened. we go on proper dates, and i listen as you tell me your big plans for retirement." the frenchman said quietly, gently kissing her on the forehead. "je t'aime, y/n szafnauer."

"je t'aime, esteban ocon."

the timer on esteban's phone went off, and the driver looked over at otmar. "otmar? i think you should sit down for this."

"sit down? don't tell me to sit down, young man! you've been boning my daughter behind my back for two years, i don't think that you're really qualified to tell me anything-"

"otmar!" fernando interrupted. "i know that you're stressed out right now, but your daughter's future is written on three little plastic sticks. so sit your ass down and give the two of them some space to find out what to do next."

"i'm too young to be a grandfather."

oscar snorted. "dude, you're like, sixty."

"i am fifty-eight!"

"are you ready, mon tresor?" esteban said quietly, turning to face y/n.

she nodded, one hand wrapped around the cool metal of the bathroom door handle. "as ready as i'll ever be."

the two crammed themselves into the small bathroom, estie's arms around her waist and his lips agains thte side of her head as she closed her eyes, bracing herself for those little pink lines.

how crazy is it that the entire future of two people can be changed by a series of pink lines? everything different in an instant.

"i'm right here." the driver encouraged. "take your time, mon tresor."

slowly, and with shaky hands, she flipped over the first test, and then the second.

negative. negative again.

she drew in a breath, looking at the last test, the smiling baby on the white handle doing nothing to calm her nerves. she didn't even know if she knew what she wanted the test to say yet.

"i can't do it, esteban. i can't face the unknown."

she knew it was a shitty answer. she faced the unknown the second she announced that she was stepping away from her sport. faced the unknown the minute she got into esteban ocon's bed. the moment she had to deal with medical leave.

esteban placed his hand over her. "then we turn it over together. and i promise, whatever the answer is, we work through it together."

"okay."

on the count of three, they turned the test over together.

not pregnant.

shockingly, she found herself breathing a sigh of relief. and she could feel esteban relaxing behind her as she rested her head against his chest, mumbling to himself in french.

"now we have time to do the real relationship things. to fall in love with each other all over again." she turned to look at him. "let's do everything in the right order this time."

esteban laughed. "i'd like that very much." he smiled as he kissed her. "so, does this mean that children are on the table for the future?"

"is that something you want?"

"only with you."

y/n smiled. "then yes. but you'd better put a ring on it first."

esteban chuckled, kissing her again. "i think i can make that happen, mon ange."

#esteban ocon x reader #estie bestie #esteban ocon #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lovelytsunodas katy perry series

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goosewriting · 1 year

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I'd like to request smt for the event! Imagine Donnie coming to visit a still recovering reader after they got kidnapped by the foot clan/big mama. After having gone to bed, they wake up to a Donnie getting ready to put a tracking device in them just like he did with the others. The reader rolls their eyes and goes "wake me up when it's over" pink 46 and blue 6 please!

Finding you (rottmnt Donnie x reader)

prompt 46: “What are you doing here?” “I wanted to see if you were okay.” prompt 6: “Wake me up when it’s over.”

summary: Donnie visits reader after they get rescued from being kidnapped.

relationship: Rise!Donnie x GN reader

warnings: ptsd sort of ??, mentions of kidnapping, angst & comfort

word count: ~690

A/N: this got a bit angstier than intended whoopsie

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

It had only been two days since the turtles rescued you from being kidnapped by Big Mama’s henchmen. The whole experience had been pretty traumatic for you, since it had been your first time in the Hidden City. You were excited to explore the place, after hearing so much about it from the turtle brothers.

You had been enjoying your day on a little date with Donnie. It all happened so fast; he looked away for literally 3 seconds and when he turned around, you were gone. It had taken him several days to even discover where you were, and two more to rescue you.

Now that you were finally in the safety of your own 4 walls, you understandably weren’t keen on going outside, even less so back to the Hidden City. You were still a bit in shock, trying to relax your body from its constant state of attention and getting a fight or flight response and adrenaline spikes from the littlest things.

Donnie had a spare key to your place for emergencies, and while he wasn’t happy that he had to use it, he still was glad that he had one at all, so he could check on you. Since you weren’t leaving your apartment at the moment, he was the one to bring you groceries and food.

As he softly shut the door behind him after entering your living room, he swiftly made his way to your room, leaving the food he brought on the counter at the kitchen on his way. The turtle leaned on your doorframe, and it almost broke him in half to see you bundled up under your blankets in your bed; he felt guilty for what happened because he hadn’t been able to save you faster. In fact, he should have been able to protect you so that you weren’t taken in the first place.

His hands clenched into fists, anger and frustration bubbling up in him again thinking back to the restless days he spent searching for you. He almost blew up Big Mama’s hotel from the ground up looking for you, once he knew she had you.

The shift in his weight from one leg to the other made the wooden floorboard creak under his feet, and you shot up from your position, holding a metallic ladle menacingly towards the intruder.

“Who’s there?!” you asked, quickly coming out of your sleepy stupor. Donnie raised his hands in surrender.

“It’s me, Donnie” he replied and approached you to sit on the edge of your bed, seeing that you put down the ladle and rubbed your face. “Sorry for startling you.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, shaking.

“I wanted to see if you were okay” Donnie gently rubs your arms. You merely mumbled a response.

“I also left some food in the kitchen” he added and started rummaging in his bag, taking out a kit of some sort, and placing it on the nightstand. You asked him what that is but he didn’t respond. You eyed him suspiciously, involuntarily tightening your hold on the ladle when you saw him take out something that looked like a syringe.

“What. Is. That.” you asked again, this time more demanding.

“... A subcutaneous tracker” he stated matter-of-factly, then sighed. “I mean, if you’re okay with it. I just… I think I’d lose it if you were gone again and I didn’t have any means to find you. I promise I won’t let it happen again. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you ever again. This is just… a security measure.”

Now it was Donnie that was shaking. You could tell he didn’t want to have this conversation but the memory of not being able to find you was really eating away at him.

“Hey, it’s okay” you said softly and held his face. “I trust you.”

You let go of the blankets and ladle, rolling over so that you were on your side, with your arm or back exposed for him to do whatever he had to do, and he leaned down to give your temple a quick kiss.

“Wake me up when it’s over.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @lovelylovelydreams, @o0-starboy-0o

#goose feathers #500 goslings event #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #tmnt 2018 #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #rise of the tmnt x reader #rise of the tmnt

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acapelladitty · 6 months

Text

Zero Year Riddler/Reader - Humiliation

Summary: Feeling confident, you decide to pay Edward a visit as he is 'working' and get exactly what you wanted. (transmasc reader)

Kicking the door to his office shut with the flat of your boot, your eyes refuse to leave the green glad figure who sits behind his usual work desk – his feet balancing on the edge of the desk as he reclines in comfort. His reaction is immediate as open surprise sits on his features for a moment before realisation sets in and that surprise dissolves into something much more heated and dangerous.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Crooning the question, Edward immediately stands from the desk and his long legs make quick work of the space between you. “I’m not sure you’re in the right place, handsome.”

“No.” You counter, playing with the end of his tie. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“I don’t remember sending for a whore.” His tone curls around the final word with a knowing lilt, confident that he understands the game you’re playing and is happy to make the first move. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s been a hard day of work, and I could do with some play.”

Glancing down as you feel him take your hand within his own, he is quick to press your palm against the half-hard bulge of his cock and it remains hidden beneath his slacks. Hot arousal floods your groin as you press your thighs together, enjoying the rough feel of the fishnets on your skin.

A small yelp bursts free of your lips as he spins you in place suddenly, his body flush against your back as you feel his cock press into your lower back. His head is quick to dip against your neck as rough fingers run along the outline of the red shift dress which skims your hips before looping through the metal hoop which hangs off the thick leather collar which hugs your neck.

“You really do look like a whore, you know.” Edward muttered, the words hot against your inner ear as he tugs the collar playfully. “Like a handsome whore who knows what he is.”

“I am a whore. Your whore.” You gasp out.

“Prove it. Bend over the desk and show me just how much of a desperate slut you are.”

Moving on shaky legs, you follow his instructions without hesitation – your body feeling uncomfortably hot against the hard wood of the table as you bend over it fully, ass high in the air to entice him into action. A temptation which he is quick to indulge as you feel his presence behind you immediately.

His fingers trail across the hem of the blood-red dress before hiking it up with a rough tug to expose your ass to his gaze. A slight hitch in his breath makes a small smirk tug at your lips as you drink in his reaction to your naked lower half, your underwear mysteriously missing as the fishnet tights do nothing to hide the obvious arousal which greets him.

“A whore so brainless he appears to have forgotten how to dress himself.” Edward growled and you hold back a soft grunt as his fingertips pluck at the fishnets which cover your ass before a harsh tearing sound alerts you to the fact that he has simply ripped through the fabric for ease of access. “But what a tempting offer, pup. It would be,” he paused, “remiss of me, to not indulge the whore his needs. Particularly when he’s presenting himself like a bitch in heat.”

Nodding desperately, you spread your legs further.

Edward is not gentle as you hear the soft unzipping of his slacks and he brushes his cock against your slit for a moment before thrusting within you in one brutal sweep of his hips. It’s pleasure and pain rolled into one and it draws a shuddering cry from your lips as your fingers grip the desk until the whites of your knuckles show.

He sets a frantic pace, his hands digging in to your fabric-covered hips as his balls slapped obscenely against your hole. His cock was as familiar as ever and the stretch of it brushing against your walls is quick to build a growing band of tension across your groin – a feat which is only made worse as one of his hands drops from your hips to creep around and stroke along your engorged clit. The surge of pleasure is almost cruel in its intensity and your knees buckle slightly against the wood.

“Too much, pup? Well too bad. I might not be paying for this, but I know your kind.” Edward growled, his cock twitching within your hole. “You’re nothing more than a series of holes to be used. A pathetic whore, desperate for someone to use him. To make themselves feel good. To fill him with cum and leave, like the good piece of meat he is.”

The degrading words, mixed with his skilful manipulation of your clit, prove too much and your orgasm hits without mercy – your body writhing against the wood as your lips spill a series of pleas and encouragements without any real thought. Through it all, Edward keeps up his rapid pace as his cock hollows you out but the harsh clenching of your hole around him as you desperately pull him deeper with every thrust is enough to push him into his own climax.

“Ahh- take it all you whore. Every drop.”

Still riding the waves of your own orgasm, the sudden burn of heat within your hole as he buries himself as deep as possible draws a fresh groan from your lips which matches the one that slips free of Edward’s own as his fingers grip your hip deeply enough to ensure some soft bruising. It’s intense and you ground yourself in the feeling of being used, loving the shameful way which it continues to spark heat across your shuddering frame.

Eventually he pulls free, his cock leaving a barren coolness in its wake as you feel just how wet and messy your hole is, but it’s a sensation which lasts only a moment as his fingers press against your slit. The sensation catches you off-guard and you jerk in place until his free hand presses roughly against your back to keep you in place as his fingers press his escaping release back into your twitching hole.

“Every drop, pup.” He warns in a thoroughly satiated tone. “And if you spill any then we’ll just have to do it again until every inch of you is filled.”

#riddler #edward nygma #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nigma #reader fic #gotham rogues #riddler x you #edward nygma x you

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 11 months

Text

Stowaway Cloak (1/3)

Characters: Stephen Strange, Reader - platonic

Warning: None.

Summary: You return to visit an old friend but find that something has hidden itself in your suitcase.

Miniseries - Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (final) (coming soon)

“Are you kidding me?” Stephen sighed, clearly irritated with your tardiness that could potentially hinder his reputation among his esteemed guests. “An hour and twenty minutes late?”

You had recently returned from Kamar-taj after training with the Ancient One and requested to crash with Stephen for a few days while until you found a new place.

Unfortunately, you had to keep him in the dark as well - the Ancient One told you that it was crucial to the fate of the universe which felt a little dramatic. But you heeded the advice and told your friend that you were away on a retreat.

“I know but I was held up in traffic.” A twisted truth, you had been defending the city from an interdimensional threat only 30 minutes ago. You followed the tense man through the lavish home and to the guest rooms where he stopped just outside.

“Just make sure that you show up to the event before the guests leave.” Stephen chastised and walked away from the door, leaving you to roll your eyes. In the time away, you forgot how impatient he could be.

Turning around, you entered the room and dropped your bags on the ground. You looked at the bed and fell onto the soft mattress, letting your body sink into the fabric. After a few moments of bliss in the modern world, you decided to freshen up and get dressed for the evening. You had been so comfortable in robes and boots that you had forgotten what it felt like to be in a fancier get-up.

Half an hour later, you were ready and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was like looking at a stranger. Setting your jaw, you reminded yourself that it was a favour to your friend downstairs and under the advice of your master to reconnect with people you loved before the final phase of your training.

Letting out a sigh, you noticed something red floating up from behind.

“No, no.” You turned and pointed at your suitcase that was now sitting slightly ajar. “Get back in.”

The instruction seemed to have flown over the Cloak of Levitation as it continued to hover. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out a sigh – why did you insist on bringing the cloak along?

“Why?” You muttered. Just as the words left your mouth, there was a soft click on the top of the suitcase which caught your attention.

A silver metal – specifically. It was the metallic ornament that adorned one of two sides of the cloak. It had been detached during a scuffle with a man called the Collector who tore off the relic in attempt to keep it for himself. Mordo and you managed to intervene in time to save the relic and the mystical cloak but the absence of the metal item made it fly slightly lopsided like a badly-wounded creature.

Stooping down, you picked up the object and looked at the cloak.

“This isn’t a simple fix, you know?” You reminded, shaking the metal in your hands. “It’s going to take some serious spell-work and time that I don’t have right now.”

The cloak bobbed up and down, clearly hoping that you’d fix it instantly but you opened the suitcase and placed the metal inside before standing upright again and sending a glare.

“Now, get back inside and behave or I’ll send your stubborn fabricated-ass straight back to Kamar-Taj and then you can explain yourself to the Ancient One.”

The Cloak of Levitation coward and floated backwards slightly at the might of a potential Sorceress Supreme.

You smiled and folded your arms. “Doesn’t sound fun, does it?” You winked and waited for a few seconds before the cloak did as you had instructed.

Smiling at the red Cloak of Levitation, you stroked its soft fabric as you lifted the top of the case to a close and whispered softly, “I promise I’ll heal you the moment I get a chance.”

You didn’t lock the suitcase given that it seemed cruel to cage something that had a spark of life and instead, pushed the case underneath your bed before leaving to find your friend.

Miniseries - Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (final) (coming soon)

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x reader #dr strange imagine #dr strange x reader #doctor stephen strange imagine #doctor stephen strange x reader #dr stephen strange x reader #dr stephen strange imagine #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #sorcerer supreme imagine #sorcerer supreme x reader #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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sheislethal · 2 years

Note

Hey, I just saw your post about sending some suggestions so here I'm.

Could you please write about Sevika having an s/o that has been acting like a brat just bc they aren't receiving "enough attention" but one day they pass the limit and have to be punished. (Can be nsfw or sfw depending on your mood, either is good)

Thanks, hope you have a nice day ✨

SEVIKA x Bratty s/o

WARNINGS: {MDNI} : Usage of ~feminine~ body parts (but relatively gn! pronouns), NSFW, oral sex, degradation, orgasm denial, mature themes, etc.

Notes: This is my first little drabble written by suggestion, so I hope it makes a good first impression. <3

“Testing my Patience”

Days spent in Zaun were never particularly quiet. I typically enjoyed the chaos this place ensured because, at the end of the day, I knew I would get to have all the peace I needed at my apartment with my girlfriend.

Except that hasn’t been the case for the past two weeks. Sevika’s schedule has been packed as hell. Yes, she has always been a relatively busy woman, but lately, Silco has been keeping her on her feet way longer than usual. She’ll work all day to the point where once she gets home, she’ll pass out on the couch.

She’s barely given me more than a minute of her attention a day, and that just won’t fly with me. Now, I’m fine with her being busy, but going two weeks without her attention has driven me to the brink of insanity.

I’ve been doing a whole lot of stupid shit just to get a glance from her. Yesterday, I had walked around the house in nothing but a bra and a pair of panties, to which Sevika didn’t even notice. She had gotten home, huffed out a simple hello, and fell asleep in our shared bedroom.

To say I was pissed was an understatement. I’ve even attempted to pick fights with her before she left for work, but she wouldn’t give in to my desperate attempts. I couldn’t understand how she did it, to be honest.

I furrowed my brows together in frustration as I sat on the couch. The slightly broken clock on the wall read 7:56, so I knew Sevika would be here any second.

I was ready to physically fight her at this point. My fingernails dug into the fabric of my pants once I heard the front door open. Sevika’s heavy footsteps echoed throughout the apartment as she walked into the living room.

My eyes narrowed once her tall frame entered my view. I opened my mouth to start shouting at her, but I closed it once I took in the sight in front of me. She seemed a bit more chipper today, a big change from her usual irritation and tiredness.

“I’m headed to the Last Drop. I figured you’d wanna tag along.” She told me. I eyed her up and down suspiciously before nodding. “You don’t have work tomorrow?”

“Nah. Silco’s getting Jinx to handle some business, so he didn’t need me,” I smirked at the underlining anger that laced her words. If there was one thing everyone knew about Sev, it was that she did not like Jinx, and she certainly didn’t like her doing jobs Sevika knew she could handle better than Jinx. I always found it funny that this six-foot-something woman despised a girl that wasn’t even half her height.

I followed my girlfriend out the door with a hidden smile. Finally, I could have her attention tonight. Would I have preferred to spend time with her at our apartment? Yes. Was I complaining? Absolutely not. At this point, I’d take all I could get.

The walk to the Last Drop was a quick one considering we lived quite close to it. The bouncers posted by the doors didn’t spare us a glance as they allowed Sevika to push through the doors.

The atmosphere was sweaty and the lingering smell of smoke and intoxication drifted through the air. I trailed behind Sevika as she made her way over to a table that was crowded with men playing card games. I wasn’t sure why Sevika loved to play cards so much, but I didn’t care to ask.

She sat down in her usual seat and her metal hand made its way around my waist, pulling me down into her lap. Just her touch alone sent a shiver down my spine.

She started a game with the guys and simply didn’t acknowledge me for the next ten minutes. This was bullshit. She had gotten my hopes up for what? A game of cards?

I scoffed under my breath and rolled my eyes. Sevika quirked a brow at my irritation, but her eyes never left the cards in front of her. I twisted my head around to survey the bar, and something- or rather someone caught my eye.

Sevika was stubborn and could hold out when I wore scandalous clothes or picked fights, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to stand this. Everyone knew Sevika was- possessive, which led me to my next decision.

I hopped up from Sev’s lap. “Where are you going?” She muttered. “I’m thirsty.” My face appeared bored, and she nodded. I waltzed over to the bar and took a seat next to a woman. I smirked to myself as I called over to Thieram, the bartender. “Two shots, please.” I smiled as he gave me a short nod.

“I know you.” Said the girl by my side. She blew her long, blue bang out her face as she studied me. Her azure eyes trailed over my features before realization hit her.

“You’re Sevika’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” She asked me. I tilted my head with a grin. “Depends on who’s asking.” I shrugged, letting my eyes scan her slowly. Jinx’s eyes narrowed, but I could detect a sly grin on her face. Jinx would do practically anything to get under Sevika’s nerves, and if I planned on finally getting the attention I fucking deserved from my girlfriend, this was the route to take.

Thieram placed the two shots in front of me and I slid one over to the blue-haired girl. “You’re Jinx?” I feigned ignorance. Everyone in the lanes knew who Jinx was. You’d have to be living under a rock not to.

“The one and only!” She smiled and we rose our glasses, both of us downing the burning liquid quickly. Jinx wiped the residue from her plum-shaded lips. “What’s a good-lookin’ person like you doing with a troll like her?”

My lips quirked into a smile. “She’s got her moments.” My eyes slid over to the woman in question. Sevika’s eyes darted over to us every so often, and I knew she was getting angry. Her grip on the cards was tight and her jaw was tensed.

I needed to push her a little bit more. My eyes returned to Jinx’s. “Are you with anyone?” My voice hinted curiosity, but I already knew the answer. She scoffed. “Relationships don’t interest me. I’ve got better things to do with my life.”

“Hm. I assumed someone with looks like yours would be in a relationship.” Her eyes widened slightly, as did her smile. “You hittin’ on me, toots?”

I ran my tongue over my bottom lip as I inspected her. “Maybe.” I gave Sevika another glance before moving my lips to Jinx’s ear. “Truth is,” I started, my eyes meeting Sevika’s from across the room. “I’m trying to make Sevika angry.” Sevika’s eyes narrowed as she watched my lips move a mere inch from Jinx’s skin.

Her grip looked lethal as it tightened around the glass she held. Her face promised death as she glared daggers at me. Jinx chuckled once I pulled back. “I can certainly help with that.”

Her hand fell to my thigh as her painted nails lightly drug across my skin. That seemed to be the final straw for Sevika. My eyes widened as I watched her shoot up from her seat and make her way toward us.

Jinx simply chuckled and took a sip from her drink once Sevika gripped my arm and pulled me away from her. Her touch was bruising, and I winced as she dragged me into the bathroom.

“Sevika, that fucking hurts.” I attempted to pull my arm from her hold to no avail. “It should.” She growled and locked the door. Before I could respond, I was being shoved against the door. One of her hands was wrapped around my throat while the other was against the door, trapping me.

“You’ve been acting like a little bitch for days. The fuck is going on with you?” She demanded. Her lips were curled into a snarl as her eyes burned into mine. My hands were on her wrist and my eyes were narrowed. “You’ve barely looked at me for weeks! This was the most we’ve spoken in days, Sevika.”

“So that gives you the right to act like this? You’ve been behaving like a child for some attention? Is that it?” She sneered, her grip tightening around my throat.

“It worked.” I smugly told her with a smile. By the look in her steel eyes, I knew I’d regret those words. The corner of her lips rose slightly. She yanked me over to the bathroom counter and I let out a yelp at the force.

She hoisted me up by my thighs and placed me on the cold surface. “You want my attention? Here it is.” She yanked off my pants and my eyes widened. Her nails dug into my skin harshly, and I winced at the feeling of blood escaping.

She pulled me to the edge of the counter and I yelped, trying to hold on to one of the sinks for balance. “Fuck!” I shouted at her roughness. I felt my skin hit the cold counter once she had torn away my underwear as well.

Her metal hand forced my upper torso back against the counter once I tried to get up. “Nope. This is what you wanted, right?” She tilted her head at me demeaningly.

I opened my mouth to protest before her tongue abruptly licked up my slit. A sharp gasp left my parted lips as she started going down on me. She lifted my thighs onto her strong shoulders and pulled me closer against her.

My hand fell to her dark hair and I gripped it harshly. “Shit!” I panted and bit back a moan. Her human hand gathered some of the wetness that had begun to gather and used it to shove two fingers into me. I hissed in pain, causing her to laugh cruelly into my cunt. The vibrations made me shiver, and her fingers began thrusting quickly.

I could feel an orgasm approaching as my breathing got shallower and faster. She sucked harshly at my clit, and she pulled away right as I was about to peak. My eyes narrowed at her. “What the fuck, Sevika?”

Her metal hand gripped my jaw. “You think you deserve to cum?” She hissed. I grit my teeth together. “Fuck you.”

Surprise passed through her features and a small huff left her lips. Without warning, she flipped me onto my stomach and her human hand she gathered my hair. She pulled it back and my eyes met my reflection. The cold metal of her robotic arm came in contact with my entrance, and she shoved a finger inside followed by two more. I cried out in pain as she moved them as far as she could.

A mixture of pleasure and pain deliciously shrouded my senses as she fucked me mercilessly. Strangled moans left my throat as my mind clouded. She moved her hand from my hair back to my jaw as she forced me to watch her fuck me in the mirror. I gripped onto the sink as tears formed in the corner of my eyes.

“Gonna cry, slut?” Her eyes watched me hungrily. “You’re just an attention-hungry whore, aren’t you?” She lowered her lips to my neck and bit down. A groan left my lips at her touch. “Answer me, bitch!” She commanded.

“Fuck- yes!” My head fell onto the counter as I saw stars. I could feel my high approaching and I prayed she would allow me this one. I clenched around her robotic fingers and she smirked against my skin before pulling out once more. “Damn it!” I groaned against the cold tile.

She lifted my head up and I saw just how pathetic I looked. Tears stained my cheeks, black mascara leaving a trail. My hair looked wild while she looked smug. “That enough attention for you?” She asked as she released me.

I felt weak and limp while I tried regaining my breath. I could nothing but watch as she stuck her fingers into her mouth. She teasingly sucked the residue that coated her skin, her eyes never leaving mine.

I sighed and pushed strands of hair from my face. “Sorry for flirting with Jinx.” She scoffed. “I’ll let it slide. Pull that shit again and you won’t cum for a month.” She threatened.

I smiled and slid off the counter, pulling my underwear and pants up. Her arm slid around my waist as we left the bathroom together.

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