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whateveriwant · 1 year

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Not With a Bang but a Whimper

Summary: Simon has a tendency to be quiet in bed. But maybe, just maybe, you can get him to break his silent streak for once.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: language, SMUT 18+ (vaginal sex)

A/N: Hello! So we all agree that Ghost's voice is hot, right? And so the thought of him moaning; the filth he'd grunt in your ear… Ugh, I just had to write a little something that would scratch that itch Ghost inflicts on my brain. As always, I hope you enjoy! :)

There's something about the darkness, the vast visual emptiness, that heightens all of one's other senses.

The tang of sweat. The scratch of sheets. The rhythmic, wet thwapthwapthwap of skin against skin.

They all come together to create a harmonious symphony of the flesh that overrides the benefit of sight, though you're sure that wouldn't detract.

And it's perfect, really. All of it. You wouldn't change a single, microscopic detail. Except, well… Perhaps…

Simon's breath fans warm across your face, a shaky exhale that hardly sounds as it passes through his lips. There's an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air, but then not half a second later he's right back to it – a grave-like silence worthy of his namesake.

In all the time you've been together, you've never known Simon to be a very talkative man. Sure, once he's comfortable around someone, he tends to open himself up more. But for the most part, he's never been one to speak beyond that which is necessary – a fact you'd long known and come to accept. And yet, despite this truth, somehow, you would've never predicted the Ghost's deathly silence extended to the bedroom as well.

Aside from harried breaths and the occasional throaty grunt, Simon might as well be a mute for how much sound he emits whilst between the sheets. And beyond those baser noises, what few words he has said have always been blunt; directional. 'Roll over. Hands here. Arse up.' and the like.

Of course, the case could be made that you make enough noise for the both of you combined – a circumstance you know Simon doesn't mind one bit. But still, hearing Simon's own unsuppressed enthusiasm is a fantasy you've not yet made reality, a dream you haven't seen come true.

But who says you won't ever?

A deep thrust has your back bowing off the bed, your mouth falling open in an airy moan. Another drive forward and you're clenching eagerly around him, restless hands kneading the wide, muscled expanse of his shoulders.

In and out, deliberate and methodical, he drags his thick cock along your walls. Gradually, mind-numbingly, the even tempo of his hips stokes a heat within your belly, and you try arching up to meet him, building the flames higher and higher.

As you rock, a low, droning moan tumbles past your parted lips, underlining the measured creaks of the bedsprings, the noisy rattle of the headboard. Simon hits a spot within you that leaves you gasping, panting, and your desperate hands seek purchase higher, sliding up the sweat-slicked line of his neck.

Reaching the soft, damp hairs of his exposed nape, your fingers find home, threading carelessly through the tousled strands at the back of Simon's head. Another drive of his hips has you inadvertently tugging downwards, and suddenly, as he's pulled towards you, you hear the sweetest noise flowing past your ears.

A groan.

Just a small one, hardly above a whisper, but it's rich and it's coarse and it's oh-so-deliciously-deep.

But before it can swell to something more, Simon's burying his face in the top of your chest, smothering the sound to extinction.

No! Not again. Not if you can help it.

"Simon," you whine, lifting his head back up to yours. Though you can't quite make out his eyes in the darkness, you know he can still see you; still read you plain as day. "Please. W-Wanna hear you. Let— Let me hear you."

Maybe it's pointless – maybe it's pathetic – but you'll never know if you don't at least try.

Unfortunately, he remains woefully quiet despite your pleas – a few desperate cries not enough to dismantle years of practiced silence. Either that or he just wants to hear you beg some more, which you wouldn't necessarily put past him, but you hope he's not so cruel when you're this wanting.

Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you bring him even closer, lips brushing aching lips. You just want him to let go, to break free from whatever's holding him back, to shrug off those internal bonds keeping his voice hostage.

"Let it out, Si. Please." Please please please please please.

Unthinkingly, you squeeze your grip tighter, pressing your nails down just enough to pinch. Honest to God, it was unintentional on your part, but then suddenly, miraculously, euphorically, it's like the floodgates open all at once.

An unfiltered moan rolls through Simon's throat – low and timorous at first, just edging past reluctant, before it rises in intensity, volume steadily increasing, ultimately peaking in a stuttered curse.

"Oh, fffuck," Simon husks to himself, thighs clapping firmly against the cradle of your legs. "Fuck, pet, y— you're—" his words dissolve as you clamp down around him, the keening sound of your voice mingling with his own.

The moment Simon let down his restraints, your reaction was near-instantaneous – skin prickling, toes curling, hairs standing at full attention. This, THIS, is what you've been waiting for – for Simon to reveal what's been hidden beneath that hardened shell of his. And it's so much better than you ever possibly imagined.

Simon grabs at you hungrily, like now that he's let loose, he can't get enough of you. "Feel so fuckin' good. So fuckin' wet." He snaps his hips a little bit faster, emphasizing the obscene squelch of your cunt.

Already you can tell you're addicted to this new side of him; it's honestly embarrassing how a minor change can make you unravel so quickly. Well, at least, you would be embarrassed if you could find the strength to care. Or really, find the strength to feel anything other than surging, dripping ecstasy.

A calloused, firm thumb makes its way to your clit, and a sharp cry bursts forth from your chest, your head craning way back. Simon nips at your jaw as he circles his thumb expertly, swirling your slick around and around until you're trembling beneath him.

"That feel good, yeah? That what you like?" he questions, perhaps with double meaning.

As you try to speak, you find you've lost your voice in the process of Simon recovering his own. Thus, all you can do is nod emphatically, hitching your legs up higher on his hips to urge him on.

You feel him chuckle against your throat at your nonverbal response. Clearly, he's enjoying himself as much as you are, the cheeky Brit.

Your tongue is utterly paralyzed as you let Simon unleash on you, only able to let out small squeaks and strangled whines as you take the full force of his vigor. Your hips pang, thighs ache, and stomach clenches as he slams into you over and over again. The smack of his balls against your ass carries shamelessly throughout the room – the sound loud and obnoxiously wet as he sticks to the juices running down your rear.

"This messy little cunt's fuckin' gushin' all over me. Think you're ruinin' the sheets, pet," he teases darkly.

Another several flicks of your clit has your core tightening tellingly, walls pulsing as you feel yourself inching closer to that blissful release. Simon must also sense your impending finish because he tries adjusting his approach, and you almost sob as he suddenly pulls his hand away, frustrated at the loss of contact. But then he's pressing flat against you, grinding his pelvis along your throbbing, swollen clit, and your cry of anguish quickly morphs to one of unbridled ecstasy.

Snaking both hands beneath your shoulders, Simon grips the base of your skull, pushing your sweaty foreheads together as he goes to speak against your mouth. "Christ, you're gonna make me cum," his breathing is choppy; stunted. "S'gonna be a big one, I can feel it." The bed jolts as he picks up his pace.

Strings of whispered expletives weave with broken moans and animalistic grunts, creating a salacious melody that overlays the sound of him taking you apart piece by sopping piece.

You're seconds away from shattering, heat flooding every nerve and vein. The only thing stopping you from falling over the edge already is your want to milk this for every second that you can. But ultimately, you can't hold on forever, and neither can he.

"M'close," Simon huffs, movements turning sloppy. "Can I… inside?" he asks without presumption.

Your tongue still feels like lead as it droops lopsided in your mouth. But you'll try to find your voice again for him, just so there's no confusion.

"Y-Yes," you whisper, more ragged than anticipated. You try swallowing but it's punctured by a whimper, your legs beginning to shake as you feel the endorphins flowing through you. The rising crescendo has you quivering, thighs squeezing him tight, and soon, you can't stop the words from pouring out, bleeding together until you're an incoherent mess. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes—!"

All at once, everything comes crashing over you, leaving your body spasming, brain buzzing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You claw ferociously at Simon's back as you reach your climax, and you bring him over the crest with you, feeling his harsh, stuttered thrusts as he empties deep inside.

You're almost certain you hear a growl as he spills into you, but you can't be totally sure over the ringing in your ears, hardly able to recognize your own euphoric wails.

You ride out the cascading wave of your orgasm until you're boneless, breathless. Even as you start to wind down, it's like you're detached from your body – skin tingling, limbs numbing, chest heaving uncontrollably. You're still shaking as the fog over your senses slowly lifts, and it's only as you register Simon still moving within you that you come back to yourself fully.

He gives a last few lazy thrusts, pushing his cum even deeper, before he's spent and slumping down, leaning on you heavily. His weight is smothering as he rests on top of you, like an anvil's been dropped on your chest. For a moment, you think he's going to snuff out the remaining air in your lungs, but then he raises up on his elbows, letting you both take a much-needed breath.

With a choked gasp, Simon slips out of you, a similar noise escaping you as you feel his cum drip from your pussy. He flops face down on the bed, the harsh sounds of his breathing muffled by the pillows. It's another few beats until you feel somewhat collected yourself, and even then your mind is still reeling, replaying what just happened.

Holy shit. That. Was. Incredible. You didn't expect Simon letting loose to be like that, and already, you're eager to experience it again.

"You… should do that… more often," you say deliriously, earning a rumbling chuckle from the man beside you. With a little difficulty, you roll over to face him, your sensitive folds brushing together as you turn. You're just able to make out his silhouette in the dim, and you see how he shakes his head to himself, then peeks up at you from the pillow.

"You're a greedy little minx, aren't you?" he mocks.

"For you?" You reach over, brushing your fingers through his hair. "Always." He exhales what sounds like an amused breath at your comment, your hand coming back down to rest by your side. "So… 10 minutes? I should be good to go again." That earns a heartier laugh from Simon, though you're not making a joke, the heat still roiling in the pit of your stomach.

He shakes his head again before shifting on his side to mirror you. "At least let me grab a shower and a bite first. I'm not a bloody robot."

Oh, you're well aware of that. Machines don't feel nearly that good.

But before you get a chance to retort, a swift peck to your lips cuts off anything you intend to say. You lean into the kiss, pressing your palms to his slick chest, but aren't able to get carried away before you feel him pull back.

You sigh begrudgingly. Alright, fine. You guess you can afford him a short break to recover, but no longer than half an hour before you're dragging him back for round 2.

Simon must notice your reluctant acceptance because he chuckles once more, lightly tapping his hand on your hip. "Tell you what. I'll let you join me in the bath if you can keep your hands to yourself."

You nearly scoff at the offer, brows scrunching in annoyance. He knows that's an impossible feat for you. It'd be like dangling a prized carrot right in front of your nose and expecting you to do nothing but lick your lips and stare.

Simon again snorts amusedly as he rolls to exit the bed. "Figured as much. You'll just have to wait then, pet."

You're about to argue with him when he suddenly hauls himself to his feet. He groans as his back cracks loudly in protest, another grunt as his knees pop one after the other. More gruff noises escape him as he walks stiffly towards the bathroom, joints creaking and crackling with every other step he takes.

The noises erupting from his mouth almost sound exaggerated on purpose, like he's trying to exactly mimic the ones from earlier – the ones that had you melting mere minutes ago.

"Okay, now you're just torturing me!" you accuse half-heartedly, pressing your sticky thighs together to quell the hollow feeling inside. He's riling you up on purpose because he knows you just have to sit there and take it!

"The only torture here is my bloody joints," Simon calls over his shoulder, planting one heavy foot in front of the next. "'S half your fault my knees 've been shot to shit anyway," he grunts. Half the blame to the military, half to missionary, you suppose.

His lack of acknowledgement to your plight has you huffing loudly, blowing out a harrumph through pouty lips. In response, Simon clicks his tongue in soft admonishment, unswayed by your whiny tones.

"Quiet," he chides, not bothering to look back at you. "Couple more years and I'll be lucky if I don't yell every fuckin' step," he says, though you figure he's just being hyperbolic. As he's just about to duck through the door, leaving you to your own devices, you hear him grumble, more to himself than to you, "Then I'd really give you somethin' to cry about."

Forced to wallow alone in your own self-pity, you roll onto your back with a sigh. Maybe Simon's right. Maybe you should just be content with what you have. You've already gotten so much more from him tonight than you ever have before. Maybe you shouldn't push too hard.

As you hear the faucet crank on, water pelting tile, you can't help how Simon's last words almost echo through your mind. 'I'd really give you somethin' to cry about,' he'd warned, dark and low. Though he meant it as a threat, and though you know it's your sex-clouded brain getting carried away, those words coming from that voice have you damn near trembling, but not out of fear. And as you lie in bed naked, staring up at the darkened ceiling above, all you can do is grasp at your messy sheets and think to yourself…

You kind of like the sound of that.

__________

A/N: I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #female reader

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boiohboii · 1 year

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The Spaniard's Wife (Carlos Sainz x wife!reader)

Inspired by @charles-eclair16 's fic

Carlos Sainz had a secret for the past 9 years, but when he forgot to take off the one thing that can reveal everything, everyone has questions

in which Carlos let's everyone know that the rumors, in fact, are true

masterlist

N.B: didn't turn out how I wanted but I've been rewriting it multiple times and I think this is the best option, hope you like it...WARNINGS: swear words a lot, not proof read, spelling mistakes and really bad photoshop tbh, if I missed anything please let me know!

Faceclaim: Emeraude Toubia

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris and 910,583 others

Carlossainz55: my wife and I have been friends for 20 years, we have been lovers for 13 of those years, engaged for 2 and married for 9. I have never been sure of much, but I am sure that I love her with my entire heart, I will always love her. I have known yn since before I could even dream of being an f1 driver, what happened in that one interview was disrespectful and just disgusting. No one has any right to speak any ill word of my wife, you don't know her and you never will, as long as she doesn't want you to. I will do everything for her, for her happiness, her comfort and for her ease of mind.

landonorris: tell yn I miss her!

Carlossainz55: leave her alone

landonorris: I'll tell her that you're rude to me

Carlossainz55: she's my wife!

landonorris: yeah yeah, you never let us forget it

username: yn been here since day 0 apparently, can't fight her now

username: YES!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!

username: I want dts to make a reincarnation of their love story

username: we need a spinoff

username: yes! It'd be so cute

username: I can't imagine 16 year old carlos realising he is in love with his friend

username: she is every man's wet dream

-this comment has been removed-

username: she looks so pretty wtf

username: she's looks like a doll

username: wish i looked like that at 20 years old

username: her dress is phenomenal

username: this screams money

username: 2 different cars for a wedding

username: the third slide, holy shit

username: I wouldn't be surprised if the last 2 pictures are carlos' or her house, like holy fuck

username: both scream rich

username: mum used to say rich people look it and I never gave it much thought until I saw carlos sainz and now his wife

username: did y'all see the picture that one twitter user took? Their outfits looked so fucking good

username: YES! I SAW IT! I could never afford a thread on either outfit!

username: did you guys see her hair! It looks so thick and healthy

username: fr!

username: I want a wedding like that!

username: I want a husband like that!

username: I want a wife like that!

username: I love how he is not in one single picture 💀😂

Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, Pierregasly and 1,209,316 others

Carlossainz55: 10 years since i was able to call you wife, and I will never get tired of letting everyone know that. I am in love with you, forever and always.

Charles_leclerc: simp

Carlossainz55: I don't know what that means

landonorris: ikr, it's laughable man @.Charles_leclerc

Charles_leclerc: don't pretend like you're not the same with your girl @.landonorris

username: damn charles really coming for everyone's neck today

username: bet charles is the biggest simp of them

username: he really making us feel lonely as hell huh

username: 10 fucking years, Holy shit!

username: no cause if I had yn by my side I too would be in fucking love

username: don't embarrass yourself, everyone knows you're in love without her by your side

username: I didn't ask to be attacked like that wtf

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz twitter au #carlos sainz x yn #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz wife #carlos sainz x wife! reader #carlos sainz jr

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buckets-and-trees · 1 month

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Pull the String

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 3.7k Summary: Friday, September 28, 2017. You have to live a normal life after meeting a larger than life figure. It's doable, and you're not stuck in summer dreams, but you do think of him from time to time. Another encounter in the Exiled Nomad Series.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, kissing, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, overstimulation, hint of praise kink, internal ejaculation, overstimulation, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: I wanted to finish this for your birthday proper, @stargazingfangirl18, but alas, only managed for birthday week. It's not a standalone, so it technically won't fit into your Birthday Bonenanza, but I did use a prompt from your list (bolded dialogue). Credit to @biteofcherry for helping me flesh out Mark from accounting a little bit.

You blinked and then read the text message again.

Something’s come up, sorry, have to cancel tonight.

It was only twenty minutes before Mark was supposed to pick you up for dinner.

A third date dinner.

YOU: Are you okay?

You typed and sent the quick text back.

You saw the three dots that indicated his typing, then they disappeared. You frowned. This was really unlike him. Mark had been nothing but reliable and a gentleman since you’d met him. He worked in the accounting firm on one of the other floors of your office building, and you had seen each other a few times at the coffee shop on the main floor in the morning. He was smart, funny without being a goof. You felt wholly normal around him.

And after having your world rocked on earthquake levels by Captain America over the 4th of July holiday, normal was what you wanted.

MARK: Everything’s fine, but we should probably call this off.

“What?” you couldn’t help actually exclaiming out loud.

You scanned up and down over your texts.

YOU: Did I do something wrong or misread the situation?

You really didn’t think that you had. In fact, you were sure of it, but you’d let him explain just in case.

It had been a few weeks, and the texts had ebbed and flowed naturally. After your second date last Sunday, you’d exchanged a kiss that had been modest but had enough heat to it that it left you starting to think about more. And last night the texts between the two of you had gotten a little spicier than any previous exchanges. Nothing vulgar, but flirty enough that you had shaved your legs and had been debating all day over what to wear.

In your silk robe, makeup finished, and hair nearly done, apparently you didn’t need to make any wardrobe decisions other than slipping into a comfy t-shirt and leggings now.

MARK: No, it’s nothing you did, and I hope we can just be friends.

Your jaw dropped and you threw your phone across the room.

Friends?

You abandoned your mirror, no need to finish getting ready at this point, and went to pick up your phone.

Fuck Mark.

But you opened your text thread with him one final time.

YOU: No hard feelings, if it’s over it’s over, and we can be cordial if we run into each other, but honestly I’m not looking for more platonic friends.

Run-on sentence aside, you felt good about the text after you hit send, and you promptly blocked Mark’s number and deleted all the texts.

And what you said was mostly true.

You actually could use some more platonic friends in this town you’d lived in for less than a year, but you weren’t looking to be friends with guys who did but then didn’t want to date you.

But well into your thirties, you were so used to and exhausted by the runaround of talking, of the dating apps, of the first dates that fizzled into nothings – first dates that you rarely even agreed to go on anymore because it usually turned out to be a waste of time with men who were too boring or too horny. For a moment Mark had been a breath of fresh air, normal and nice and endearing.

And apparently not worth the time and effort you had sunk into the beginning of the blossoming relationship either.

Even at that thought, you were glad you had already followed your self-imposed rule of deleting messages, because you already had the itch to go back and re-read, and so it was good you had removed that temptation. No need to torture yourself.

You turned on your favorite album, cranked up the music, and ordered delivery from your favorite Italian restaurant with tiramisu and extra garlic bread.

You would watch your favorite movie, indulge in your favorite food, and later put yourself to bed with another chapter of the spicy romance novel you were reading and a nice session with your favorite vibrator.

Fuck Mark.

The app said your dinner would arrive in thirty-five minutes, so you slipped into leggings and one of your old comfy t-shirts, and flopped onto the couch to wait, the song from the opening credits of the movie making you feel just a little bit better.

At this stage of life, it was just annoying that Mark had called it off. Make it through dates three and four and people your age were reasonably sure they were headed down the relationship road together. At least that’s how you operated. You knew yourself enough that you weren’t dating someone to try and figure out who you were like you maybe had at times when you were younger, trying to live up to some expectation of society. You were busy enough that your free time was precious, and so you didn’t go on frivolous dates. Most important, as seemingly everyone around you had peeled off and gotten married while you remained perpetually single, you had to figure out if you could be happy alone, and you’d spent time to figure that out and truly find happiness. It was lonely sometimes, but overall you had built a good life, put your time into things that really satisfied you.

When you realized you were more annoyed at having to start over again than over losing Mark, you sighed and realized that was both a good and a bad sign. Good because you clearly weren’t going to be hung up on Mark, but bad because he really hadn’t meant much – you’d just wanted him to.

A small ache in your chest resurfaced.

The person you did miss was Steve Rogers.

And you held no bitterness there – it had been so clear for both of you that it was a summer holiday fling – but you did have some leftover longing.

Who could blame you?

When The Avengers had come together in New York in 2012, you had swooned over Thor, but there was something so steady, charming, and trustworthy about Captain America down to the bone that your admiration had developed into quite the crush. You knew the parasocial relationship that you and the rest of the world developed with him over the years was synthetic. It was fun and harmless.

But then you had met the real Steve Rogers in the flesh – and spent time flesh to flesh with him over the Fourth of July weekend.

The days you spent with him had been both intense and surreal. You had context to who he was from history books and the public persona, but the man behind the shield was naturally and infinitely more than what screens, books, and social media could ever portray. It was clear that being in exile from his country and on the run from most of the world due to their signing of the Sokovia Accords had changed him. But as you talked and spent time together, you suspected that losing his freedom had also freed him in some ways from the burdens of expectation and the colossal mantle and responsibilities of being Captain America.

He hadn’t given up his sense of duty to still help when and where he could, but he could simply be Steve.

In the nearly two days and two nights you’d spent together almost constantly in each other’s company, you’d shared so much, talking over things that were both trivial and meaningful as the conversations evolved. You’d spent time in serene silence together as well.

All of that felt stolen out of the pages of a book on its own.

But then there had also been the sex.

So much super soldier sex.

Rough, intense, sensual, exquisite, and all-consuming.

All of it – the physical and emotional – had been more intimate than anything else you had ever experienced.

Logically you had also come to realize that the pure fact that you both knew the time was so limited and fleeting undoubtedly allowed both of you to suspend boundaries and open up in ways you wouldn’t have if it had been a more conventional coupling up situation.

Yet it didn’t take anything away from the memory of those days together.

Logically you also knew no one would ever compare to him, and you had been realistic about that.

But tonight you wouldn’t worry about letting your thoughts drift to Steve.

It was more difficult to think of the emotional, and so your mind diverted quickly to the physical.

The way he had looked at you, touched you, kissed you, pleasured you. The feel of his cock inside of you. His fingers and his mouth ripping more orgasms from you than…

“No,” you scolded yourself out loud and groaned. “It’s too early on a Friday night to be thinking about sex with Steve.”

Not that it did any good to say so.

You pressed your thighs together, feeling the ache the worst at your core.

No longer paying any attention whatsoever to the movie you had going on the tv, it was the doorbell ringing with your food delivery that saved you from the spiral of desperately horny thoughts you were caught in.

There were two bags deposited on your doorstep, and you snatched them both up eagerly. The larger brown paper bag was emanating some heat, so you opened the smaller one first, assuming correctly that it held your tiramisu. You snatched a spoon from your silverware drawer and went for a sweet, indulgent bite. A little spoiling before you turned to the savory feast.

That bite made you moan in satisfaction. You savored the way the cream was perfectly smooth and balanced with the coffee and liqueur-soaked ladyfingers.

Your doorbell rang again, and you rushed over to open the door, assuming the delivery person probably realized they had forgotten a precious part of your meal – likely the garlic bread, and that would have been a sin!

Spoon still in your mouth, you opened the door and then froze.

Wearing the same aviators and non-descript baseball cap, Steve Rogers stood before you, as if it hadn’t been nearly three months since your once-in-a-lifetime encounter.

This couldn’t be real.

And yet his aggressive grip on your hip as he backed you into your place and kicked the door closed behind him was irrefutable.

Your heart raced as Steve pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours. Your spoon clattered to the floor. He discarded his sunglasses on the table by the door and then captured your lips in a searing kiss. His beard scratched your skin, a delicious friction that sent shivers down your spine. Your lips parted for the demands of his hungry kiss, and when he licked into your mouth, his tongue slid against yours slowly for a moment, and you knew he was tasting the sugary sweetness of the bite you’d just savored, savoring it himself.

When he finally broke away, you gasped for air. "Steve? What are you doing here?"

"I shouldn't be here," he murmured against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. "But I couldn't stay away."

Your mind reeled. This couldn't be happening. "Isn’t it risky for you to come back?"

Steve's thumb traced your lower lip. "Some risks are worth taking."

You melted into his touch, your body quickly abandoning reason. You yanked him closer by his shirt collar, kissing him fiercely. You removed the hat that was already askew on his head and tangled your fingers in his hair. It was longer now than when you'd last seen him. He groaned, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to the couch.

Steve laid you down on the cushions, his body covering yours as he kissed a trail down your neck. His beard scratched deliciously against your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tight muscles beneath his shirt.

"I've thought about this so much since I left," Steve murmured against your collarbone. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.

You arched into his touch, desperate for more. "Me too," you breathed, that confession opening a dangerous door you had tried to keep closed inside of you.

Steve's hands pushed your shirt up, exposing your breasts. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. Slowly, reverently, he lowered his head to take a nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue made you gasp and clutch at his neck. He gave it a hard, long suck before letting his tongue swirl around your nipple again, laving at it as his hand kneaded the other. It was all you could do to moan, arch into him more, and hold onto him like a lifeline.

Steve kissed his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, looking up at you with a nearly feral hunger in his eye, something dark that sent a thrill of both adrenaline and desire through you, and you lifted your hips because no one had ever looked at you with so much need.

Steve slowly peeled your leggings down, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed more of your bare skin. You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed flesh, goosebumps rising on your thighs. Steve's large hands caressed up your legs, leaving trails of heat in their wake. He settled his broad shoulders between your legs, spreading you wide beneath him. He kissed the inside of your thigh, then nipped at your tender flesh, making you yelp, before he soothed it with his tongue and then another kiss, even softer than the first. Then he shifted, and you could feel his hot breath against your most intimate parts, already slick for him. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he placed an open-mouthed kiss to you there, and you sucked in a breath.

"God, I've missed your taste," he growled.

Without warning, he licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, making you gasp and arch off the couch. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him as he explored you with his tongue. He circled your clit teasingly before sucking it into his mouth, the pressure making you cry out in pleasure.

Steve's tongue was relentless, alternating between broad, flat strokes and precise flicks that had you writhing beneath him. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to stroke your inner walls as he continued his assault on your clit. The dual sensations quickly had you climbing towards your peak.

"Steve," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your thighs began to tremble as you teetered on the edge of orgasm. Steve redoubled his efforts, his fingers pumping faster as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud.

With a cry, you came undone, your body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Steve worked you through your climax, lapping up your release until you gently pushed his head away, oversensitive.

But he growled and bit at the inside of your other thigh. “I’m not done eating my fill of this pretty cunt yet.”

You gasped at Steve's words, a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through you despite your recent orgasm. His blue eyes were dark with desire as he looked up at you from between your thighs.

"Steve," you breathed, torn between wanting more and feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation.

He seemed to sense your hesitation. "Color?" he asked, his voice husky but almost gentle.

"Green," you replied. How could you deny him? This? When you assumed you would never see him again.

Steve's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Good girl," he purred, before diving back in.

This time, his tongue explored you even more thoroughly, dipping inside you to taste your essence before returning to your clit. He alternated between broad strokes and precise flicks, keeping you on edge. When he slipped two fingers back inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot, tears were creeping up on you for the mingled overstimulation and ecstasy.

Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against Steve's face as he worked you towards another climax. The coarse hair of his beard rubbed deliciously against your inner thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensations.

"That's it," Steve murmured against your flesh. "Let go for me, sweet girl."

His words, combined with a particularly well-timed curl of his fingers and another hard suck on your clit, sent you careening over the edge once more. You cried out, your back arching off the couch as your second orgasm ripped through you, even more intense than the first.

Steve didn't let up, his tongue and fingers working you through the aftershocks until you were a trembling, oversensitive mess. Only then did he pull away, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before sitting back on his heels.

You lay helpless, trying to catch your breath. He leaned forward and caught the tears on your cheeks with strong swipes of his thumbs. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be ruined for anyone else.”

Your breath caught in your throat at Steve's bold declaration. The intensity in his eyes made you shiver with anticipation.

"I already am," you confessed softly.

Something flashed in Steve's eyes - possessiveness, pride, and a hint of vulnerability. He surged forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth.

Steve's hands roamed your body, relearning every curve and plane. When he cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples, you arched into his touch with a gasp.

"Please" you mumbled against his lips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You surged forward for another kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. "I need you inside me."

Steve groaned, his hips grinding against yours. You could feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and you ached to have him fill you completely. He sat back, quickly stripping off his shirt to reveal his chiseled torso. Your hands roamed over his muscled chest and abs, marveling at the perfection of his body.

As Steve unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans down, you took the opportunity to remove your shirt fully, leaving you both gloriously naked. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of you laid out before him, flushed and wanting. His eyes raked over your body with such intensity that you felt more exposed than you ever had before, curves and scars and imperfections on full display. You felt yourself flush under his gaze.

You reached for him, pulling him down on top of you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours was electrifying. Steve captured your lips in another passionate kiss as he settled between your thighs. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and you rolled your hips, silently begging him to take you.

Steve broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he slowly pushed inside. You both groaned at the exquisite feeling of him stretching and filling you. When he was fully seated, he paused, but not long enough for you to adjust to his size. But the painful pleasure of it only fueled your hunger for more of him.

"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice strained, words hot against the crook of your neck. "So tight and perfect for me."

You whimpered in response, overwhelmed by the fullness and the intensity of having Steve inside you again after so long. Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as he began to move, starting with slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping with each roll of his hips.

"Steve," you moaned, arching into him. "More, faster."

He growled low in his throat, picking up the pace. The couch creaked beneath you as Steve's powerful thrusts drove you into the cushions. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle so he hit that perfect spot inside you with each stroke.

"That's it," Steve panted, his voice rough with desire. "Take all of me."

Your world narrowed to the feeling of Steve moving inside you, the sound of skin on skin, and the increasingly desperate noises falling from both your lips.

Steve's rhythm became more frantic, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The intensity of his thrusts had you clinging to him, nails digging into his back as pleasure built within you. Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Look at me," Steve commanded, his voice husky and strained.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The raw emotion you saw there – desire, possessiveness, and something deeper you couldn't quite name – took your breath away.

"I want to see you fall apart," he growled, never breaking eye contact as he continued to drive into you relentlessly. “I want to watch what only I can do to you.”

One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with the precision he perfected in the heat of July.

"Come for me," Steve commanded, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

His words and the relentless pressure on your clit sent you spiraling into ecstasy. You cried out Steve's name as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls clenching tightly around him. The intensity of your climax triggered Steve's own release. He groaned, burying himself deep inside you as he came.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Steve's weight pressed you into the couch, but you relished the feeling of being surrounded by him.

When both of you settled back into even breathing, he planted slow kisses along your jaw and blazed a trail back to your mouth. Cock still inside you, he kissed you slowly. Slow and unrepentant, in no hurry now, only drinking you in, and you let your hands stroke up and down his back, relishing in the impossible and stolen closeness.

You could survive a second encounter with this super soldier.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

read more of the: Exiled Nomad Series

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #nomad steve rogers #nomad steve #steve rogers x reader #female reader #aspen wrote something #exiled nomad series

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occamstfs · 4 months

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Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?)

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly.

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?”

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own.

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

#male tf #cultural change #racial change #masculinization #hair growth #race change #mental change #possession #jockification #muscle tf

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just-a-ghost00 · 2 months

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Crush series : what would they tell you if they could?

I just couldn't wait to post this PAC lmao Mainly because I just thought the overall vibe was just so cute. I mean, look at these Jiji emojis <3 They're just purrfect. I found them on Pinterest. This site is just a gold mine for readers lmao

Group 1 - Intrigued Jiji

아직도 그 자리에 멈춰서 난 I'm not going, going, going, going (to) let you down 마음은 더 갈 곳을 잃어 떠나 다시 going, going, going, going let you down

The Revolutionary, The Weaver, The Observer, Power, The Warrior

Is your crush an Aries or a Taurus? Because you got yourself some stubborn AF lover here. They would tell you that no matter the circumstances, they are willing to fight for you and work hard for this connection to work out. They would do anything in their power to protect you and make the odds work in their favor. That they don't intend to run away and should you need them, all you have to do is to call them. They would tell you that no matter what you think of them, no matter what life has in store when it comes to your connection, they will always keep an eye on you and watch over you. That you lit a fire inside of them they didn't know they had. That ever since they met you, they've found a new purpose, a new source of motivation. That they're willing to play with the threads of fate if it means being victorious, getting closer to you. For some of you they would tell you they ask readers about you and your connection. That they ask the Universe for help in getting closer to you. Maybe you rejected this person at first, group 1. Or they feel like somehow you have no interest in them. Well, they're wrong lmao Otherwise you wouldn't be reading this post, would you? I asked for further information and you got Withdraw in reverse. They would tell you that they are done running away from you and/or that they wish you would pay more attention to them. That they are done acting like you don't mean the world to them when in reality they would be devastated if they ever lose you. Looking at the translation of Snooze, they would tell you that they wish you the best. That they hope all your dreams can come true and should you feel tired or in pain, they will always be there to support you and soothe you. That even if you hated them, they would never cease to love you. That they encourage you to live your life to the fullest and they have no doubt you will be succesful in whatever you do.

Group 2 - Dizzy Jiji

You're the coffee that I need in the morning You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring Won't you give yourself to me? Give it all, oh

Compassion, Get wild, Play, The Magi, Higher perspective, Reflect

They would litterally tell you that you make them dizzy by the amount of feelings you trigger in them. That they feel so touched by you that you give them wings. In your presence, they get nervous but also reckless. They want to do things they would never try in other circumstances. That they feel like there's magic in the air whenever you're around them, that your connection is special to them and they believe it was fate that brought you together. They would tell you that they see themselves in you, that you feel very familiar to them though they barely know you. They would tell you they want to get to know you better, have fun with you, explore this connection further. That they think you're their soulmate. They would tell you how good they feel in your presence. They would tell you how excited they are about whatever it is that they feel because to them it is the most beautiful feeling. That whatever the outcome may be, they're willing to wait for you. They would maybe ask you if you performed a spell on them because they can't seem to forget you. They would tell you though they're pinning for you they don't want you to feel sorry for them. That they can handle the rejection, should you not feel the same way. They would tell you that they feel like you're as interested in them as they are and that if that's the case, they would be very happy to investigate this connection further. That they wish you would feel comfortable enough with them to unleash and be your true self because they would never judge nor hurt you. That you can trust them and be assured that they would never play with your feelings, despite their flirty and lighthearted appearance. That the reason why they appear so light and playful is beacause you give them butterflies and make them so happy they feel like they're on cloud nine. They would want to let you know that their feelings are genuine.

Group 3 - Enamored Jiji

Now I'm shaking, drinking all this coffee This last few weeks have been exhausting I'm lost in my imagination And there's one thing that I need from you Can you come through?

The Pillar, Paradox, Trust rx, Versatility, The Revolutionary, Love

Before I even dive into the meaning of the cards, I want to point out that while I was shuffling a big amount of cards fell from the deck without turning over. So this person has a lot on their plate that they don't tell nor show you. This is something that would be difficult for them to say because it puts them in a very vulnerable position. They would tell you that they don't know what to think of this connection but they sure as hell know that you put their world upside down. That everything they thought they knew about love has been crushed ever since they met you. You uprooted any belief they had about falling in love, finding someone that they liked. Maybe you are very different from what this person deems as their type or thought that they would end up with. They would tell you that their heart has been a mess every since you last saw each other. That as much they love how you make them feel, it also scares them because they feel like things are spiraling out of control. You hold the key to their heart and they were not prepared for that. They would tell you that a part of them believes that this connection is too good to be true. That they fear your intentions and theirs aren't in alignment. That maybe you seek to take advantage of them or that you're only interested in their body and not their soul. They would tell you that they feel like they're under your spell. That they're confused because they're not the type to fall in love so easily. That they're fighting against these feelings but somehow they just can't make them stop, no matter how hard they try. I asked for clarification as to why they were repressing their feelings and got the Explorer card. On this card is drawn a compass without directions. The only two symbols are one eye on top and a heart at the bottom. The reason why they are repressing their feelings is because they don't know what they want. They are currently without direction, lost at sea. There's an inner struggle between what they envision for themselves and what their heart truly desires. Maybe you don't fit this person's plans of what their life should be. They might be the type of person that always had a vision of the job they wanted to do, where they wanted to live, with whom they were going to live their life and so on. Those ideas could have been influenced by their family. Yet, you don't seem to fit those dreams. So they are puzzled as to why they feel so strongly for you when you don't align with their course of action. They wonder whether they were lead astray or if this is actually their destiny.

#pick a card #pac reading #just-a-ghost #love pac #oracle cards #crush series #Spotify

274 notes · View notes

angels-fantasy · 6 months

Note

hi!! i really like your work and i was wondering if you could do like a katsuki bakugou x reader where bakugou is putting the reader at risk of being harmed because of her being one of his loved ones and then bakugou purposely fights with the reader and then just walks out on her thinking it’s for the better and then a couple weeks later the reader finds out she’s pregnant and keeps the child a secret for a couple years until she runs into bakugou and then he wants a do-over or something like that 🥹

Second Chances (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Details/Warnings: CW: Pregnancy Cw: Children, some angst, domestic fluff, dad bakugou, also soft bakugou hahaha.

Word Count: 2.9k

this idea is SOOOO cute i love it sm and it was really fun writing this. i hope i did your idea justice!! thank you sm for requesting anon :D i literally got so excited when i saw it got a request hehehe

Getting with Katsuki Bakugou was a dream come true. You two had been through thick and thin, and you had it all. Great jobs, a home together, and a strong relationship. Everything seemed perfect in your eyes, until one day Katsuki decided it wasn't enough for him.

Well, it was enough for him. It was more than enough actually. He loved you with all his heart and wanted a future with you, but doing that would put you at risk.

Ever since he was a little boy and dreamed of being a hero, he was warned of the risks the job came with. Not only would he be in great danger, but his loved ones too.

For a long time he believed he was strong enough to take on the world and every villain it had, no matter the threats they made towards him.

In his entire career, no villain had ever threatened a loved one of his, until recently. A damned villain had brought you up in the midst of the fight, spewing all kinds of bullshit he'd do to you that Katsuki would never want to even imagine.

For the first time in a long time, Katsuki reached a breaking point.

The disgusting things that villain said about you made him realize that he couldn't continue putting you in danger like this, so he had to find a way to end things.

He knew you wouldn't accept the real reasoning behind the break up, so he had to come up with something else.

You sat across the kitchen table from Katsuki with tears filled in your eyes. Seeing you like this hurt him more than ever, but he had to stay strong.

"How could this not be enough for you Katsuki?" You cried, "How could I not be enough for you?"

He looked down at the table to avoid your broken expression, "How else am I supposed to fuckin' say it huh? I don't wanna be with you anymore."

You shook your head, "Stop looking at the table and look at me when you say that. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you really don't want to be with me, then you can leave."

It took everything left in Katsuki to lift his head up and look you in your eyes. He tried his best to put on a poker face, but you both knew it wasn't working.

"I don't want to be with you anymore."

Your face scrunched up slightly as you held back tears. "Okay Katsuki. If that's what you really want."

...

Having to hear Katsuki move out of your apartment was just another reminder of your relationship crumbling right before you, and it felt like the end of the world.

You don't know how long you laid in bed crying silently, but suddenly you heard Katsuki's voice from the door of your bedroom.

"I'm leaving now." He said quietly.

You played with a thread on the pillow next to you, choosing to ignore him.

He shuffled awkwardly at your silence. "Um, Bye. I guess."

"Bye Katsuki." You said quietly.

You stayed quiet until you heard the front door shut behind him, then you let yourself cry.

...

It was almost two months later, and you were starting to feel a bit better about the break up. It was hard sometimes, but you had a good support system and kept yourself busy.

Now though you were feeling better emotionally, you weren't really feeling well physically.

When you confided in your best friend about this, she told you words you really didn't want to hear.

"Maybe you're pregnant?" Uraraka suggested after hearing your symptoms.

You shook your head, "No way! And if I am, that's horrible! I can't raise a baby by myself. That's a two person job..."

She stayed quiet, now feeling a bit awkward when she remembered the messy breakup between you and Katsuki.

"I'd be here for you, you know that right?" She said and wrapped her arms around you. "I should have a few tests in my bathroom, do you wanna go take some?"

You bit your lip in thought. "I dunno. I'm scared."

She leaned her head on your shoulder, "I'll be with you every step of the way. You're my best friend okay? You should take the test sooner than later so that way if you are pregnant, you can start taking care of yourself and the baby."

You leaned your head on hers, "You're right. I'll do it."

Moments later after peeing on three sticks and looking at the results, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

You opened the door and faced Uraraka, who was pacing in anticipation.

"Well? What does it say?!" She asked.

You held up one of the tests, "Looks like I gotta start eating for two."

...

5 years later

After finding out you were pregnant five years ago, you decided you weren't going to tell Katsuki. Maybe it was wrong, but you didn't care.

He had made it very clear he didn't want to be with you anymore, and you weren't going to hold him back from whatever plans he had.

You had also decided it'd be a good idea to move out of Musutafu, at least an hour away from him and anyone else that knows him. You didn't want the word of you having his child spreading around and eventually reaching him.

The only person you told were your parents and Uraraka, who promised she'd keep it a secret from Katsuki and everyone associated with him. The two of you kept in touch and she would occasionally visit you when she wasn't busy with hero work.

So now here you were with your 4-year old little girl, Keiko. She had some of your features, but of course her father's genes overshadowed yours despite him not even being in the picture.

The biggest resemblance between them was their eyes, which you hated temporarily, but grew to love again because of her.

"Mama! Mama!" Keiko called from the top of the slide, "Come play with me!"

You stood up from the bench with a sigh and made your way over to the bottom of the slide. "Okay Koko but be careful up there! I don't want you to get hurt."

She shook her head and scrunched up her face, "I'm strong! I don't get hurt Mama!" and then slid down to meet you at the bottom.

Once she got there, she slid into your legs and got surprised at the light impact but giggled anyways.

You reached down and picked her up, "What are you laughing at huh Koko?" You asked and tickled her.

She continued laughing her little heart out and you smiled at her, loving to see your daughter in such a good mood.

A few hours later, you found yourselves at the grocery store, shopping for new snacks Keiko could take to school.

You held up a pack of yogurt cups to your daughter, who was sitting in the basket.

"You want some of these baby? They have blueberry and strawberry flavor."

"I want blueberry!" She said.

You nodded, "Good choice."

The two of you continued shopping around for a few more minutes, until you felt your heart stop.

Down the same aisle, you saw none other than Katsuki Bakugou.

Just as you tried to quickly turn around, your precious child couldn't help but yell -

"Dynamight!"

Groaning in frustration at your daughter, though you knew it wasn't her fault (He just so happened to be her favorite hero, despite not even knowing he was her father), you tried your best to keep walking away but it was already too late.

You heard him yell out your name, and you quickly grabbed Keiko, abandoning the shopping cart in the process and you began making your way out of the store as fast as you could.

Katsuki, who noticed you and your daughter, did the same and began following you.

Once you were outside, you looked over your shoulder and called out, "Get away from me!

Keiko fussed in your arms at your loud voice, wondering what was happening and why her mother was running away from a hero.

Finally getting to your car, Katsuki was hovering over you as you put your daughter in her car seat.

"Is she mine?" He asked, out of breath from walking fast.

"No."

"You think I'm an idiot or somethin'?" He asked, "She looks just like me and you expect me to believe that?"

You kissed Keiko on the forehead, "I'm gonna talk to the crazy man real quick okay baby? Just wait here."

She nodded and played with her fingers. You shut the door and leaned against it, facing Katsuki.

"Leave us alone. I don't want anything to do with you, okay?" You said sternly, trying not to cry.

His eyebrows furrowed, "When we ended things... were you pregnant?"

You stayed quiet for a moment before answering.

"I didn't find out until a month later."

He let out a breath and put his hands on his face. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me? I would've been there for you, even if we weren't together."

His words angered you, "Why does it take me being pregnant for you to think about being there for me? I still needed you there when you left, but you wanted nothing to do with me!"

"I had to do it! You don't understand, okay?" He yelled.

You put a finger in his face, "Stop raising your voice at me like that. Keiko can probably hear you."

He grew quiet, "Her name is Keiko?"

"Yeah."

He looked at the ground, "Can I get to know her more? Please. There's no way I can live my life knowing I have a kid that I'm not there for."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek. "Okay, fine. I'll give you my number and we can talk about the details later."

"Thank you." He sighed, "Thank you so much. I'm gonna do my best for her, and for you too."

"This isn't about me."

"I don't care. It's what I want to do. It's what I need to do."

"Just give me your phone so I can put my number in."

He fished his phone out of his pocked and unlocked it, handing it to you. While you added your contact, he asked "What does she like? I want to get her something."

"Well she likes heroes, her favorite animal is a seal, and she likes crowns, because she wants to be a king." You said with a smile.

"Not a queen?" He smirked.

You shook your head. "Nah, she says 'king' sounds cooler."

He laughed, "That's definitely my kid."

...

After the accidental meet up with Katsuki, Keiko asked a million questions but you answered as if you didn't know him, and eventually she lost interest.

You decided not to tell anyone about what happened, just incase he decided to leave again. You also didn't want to tell Keiko yet, because you didn't want her to grow attached to him.

She knew her father wasn't in the picture, but she didn't fully understand why yet. You would explain it to her when she got older and grew more curious about who he is.

You had also found out why Katsuki was in your city, and apparently it was because he was visiting some family members (by force of his mother).

It was now a few days later, and you and Katsuki decided to meet up, along with Keiko. You wanted to meet him in public, but he said that was a bad idea because he'd get recognized, so you reluctantly agreed to allow him into your home.

"Keikooo" You cooed, "We have a visitor today."

She looked up from her toys and brushed her hair out of her face, "Who Mama?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. "There he is! Do you wanna go open the door?"

She nodded and skipped down the hall and to the front door, looking back at you for the okay before opening the door.

When she did, she gasped "Dynamight! What are you doing at my house?"

Katsuki laughed, "I came to see you and your Mama, if that's alright with you little lady."

She smiled and opened the door wider, allowing him to walk in. "What's in that bag, Dynamight?"

"It's actually something for you." He said and handed it to her.

She squealed and dragged the large bag behind her to the couch, where she quickly dug inside of it and pulled out a large seal plushie with a crown on it.

"It's a king seal!" She said in awe.

You smiled and sat next to her on the couch, "What do you say Koko?"

She hugged the seal, "Thank you so much! I need to name him..."

Katsuki laughed and ruffled her hair, "You're welcome kid. Maybe we can come up with names later." He then handed you a small bag, from who knows where, and urged you to open it.

You raised a brow but opened it anyways. Inside, there was a jewelry box, and inside that there was a necklace with three small flowers aligned together. It was simple, but pretty.

"You didn't have to get me anything..." You said while admiring the necklace.

He shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."

You smiled.

...

For the next few months, things continued on that way. The three of you would meet up, Katsuki occasionally bringing you and your daughter gifts no matter how many times you said you didn't want one, and actually enjoying time together.

Currently, Keiko was being carried to bed by Katsuki. She was all tuckered out from today's session of hero and villain (she was the hero, of course).

When Katsuki came back to the living room, he slumped onto the couch next to you and sighed. "Damn, that kid has so much energy."

You laughed, "Tell me about it. It was even worse when I was actually carrying her. She was a kicker."

Katsuki looked over at you, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

You continued looking forward, "It's fine. You didn't even know, Katsuki."

He smiled slightly at you using his first name, just like he did every time you used it.

"Y'know, I was thinking-"

"Uh oh." You teased.

He tsked and continued on, "I wanna start over again."

You froze, what the hell was he saying?

"Look, I know you're hesitant to and I understand why." He said and slowly grabbed your hand, holding it tenderly in his. "But I'm being serious when I say I haven't been with anyone since you. I still love you and I always have. And now that Koko is here, I love her too and I want to be in her life everyday."

Your lip began to shake, "If you loved me, why did you leave me?"

"Baby I was being stupid. I-I got into a fight with this villain, and he threatened you. I thought that my job was putting you in danger and I didn't want to take any risks, so I broke things off."

The tears were now falling, "You're such an idiot, you know that?"

"I do know. I'm sorry." He said and stroked your cheek, "I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you and not being there for you and Keiko. But please, please let me be here now."

You cried harder and leaned into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. That wound he left behind all those years ago was now a scar that still hurts. But so far, being with him these last few months has eased the pain.

"I love you" You cried, "I want you to be here now. For me and for Keiko."

He let out the biggest sigh of relief in years.

...

3 years later

"Keiko! Stop putting cheese on your brother!" Katsuki yelled across the kitchen.

Your now 7-year old daughter pouted and bit into a slice of cheese, "But he likes it!"

Your son, who was a year old, laid on the floor of the living room and laughed at his sister while chewing on his fingers.

After that talk you and Katsuki had, you began seeing each other again. It was hard at first, but he proved himself to you in every way he could.

You two also told Keiko he was her father, and she was confused at first but after a long talk and even some tears, she understood and quickly accepted he was her father.

She also loved being able to say Dynamight was her dad.

She also manifested her quirk, which was of course, the same as Katsuki's. When it first manifested, there was a random boom! that came from her bedroom, and when you two ran in, she was covered in soot and her doll was blown up.

Though instead of crying, she cheered in victory, which Katsuki found extremely funny.

Now for your second pregnancy, that was a surprise, just like your first one. Despite this, you two were still happy about it and decided to move into a bigger house together.

Hiroki looked a lot like his father, of course. But this time, he had your eye color which you were thankful for considering you carried him for almost 9 months.

"Keiko why would you put cheese on Hiroki?" You asked as you walked into the living room.

She shrugged and ate another slice.

"That kid is crazy, that's why." Katsuki said.

She quickly turned around, "No I'm not! You're crazy! Poop face!"

"Hey!" You said, "Don't call your dad poop face. That's not nice."

She grumbled a 'sorry' and went back to eating the cheese slices off of Hiroki.

You smiled and shook your head at your families antics. They could be a bit much, and they had explosive personalities (literally) but you loved them either way.

Maybe second chances weren't so bad.

authors note

this was so so fun! again, thank you for requesting 🩷 if anyone else has ideas or requests, feel free to send em!

i hope you liked this 😸

#fanfiction #@angels-fantasy #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #cw pregnancy #cw children #dad bakugou #bakugou x fem!reader

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arkhammaid · 7 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE SIREN'S CALL.

fandom. formula one

pairing. oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc: none)

about. y/n is a professional mermaid and oscar is her greatest admirer

content warnings. social media au spanning over a long time, not edited/proofread

notes. i got one of those aesthetic professional mermaid tiktoks on my fyp at like 2am... the idea has been stuck in my head since then lol

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscar piastri and 1'788 others

yourusername Conquering the big seas with my new mermaid tail. Super excited for the big show this weekend🧜‍♀️

mermaidaquilla gorgeous pictures, the color really suits you <3

⤷ yourusername thank you, aquilla 🫶 we need to go for a dive soon!

⤷ mermaidaquilla oh for sure, let me know when you have time :)

user you're incredible, y/n

user oh my god these pictures are insane??

user i can't wait for the show, going to an aquarium just for you!

⤷ yourusername ahh, thank you so much for your support darling 💗

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscarpiastri and 35'023 others

yourusername Happy (future) World Oceans Day! @/mermaidaquilla and I'll be doing a special show on June 8th, streaming on several platforms to raise awareness and money for our oceans 🌊 We await your attendance, tell your friends and family about it!

mermaidaquilla so happy to do this show with you love!

⤷ yourusername me as well, i'm so honored we will do this together 🥹

user oh my god, collab of my dreams finally come true

⤷ user so happy for y/n to be recognized by the bigger creators!

user marking the day on my calendar!

user my daugher loved you in your last show, thank you for brining magic a bit closer to us

user hold on, what is oscar doing in her likes...

⤷ user who??

YOURUSERNAME

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 100'244 others

yourusername I've started diving when I was just a little girl and now my job is my child hood dream... I'm a mermaid and belong to the seas. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received, hopefully to many years to come with Mermaid Y/n 💕🪸

mermaidaquilla your journey is incredible, i admire you so much for your drive, you're the mermaid of my dreams. so happy for you that you've made it love!

⤷ yourusername without you it wouldn't have been possible!! i can only thank YOU for being my biggest supporter since the beginning 💗

user every time i'm blown away by the pictures you post

user thank you for making the mermaid community bigger!

user MOTHER Y/N WE'RE SO PROUD

user mother is mothering FR

user HOLD ON WHY IS THERE A MAN ON THE LAST SLIDE??

⤷ user so i'm not the only one who noticed??? is this an official soft launch????

⤷ user i think so? y/n never posted someone without tagging them..

⤷ user our mermaid found her merman 😭

oscarpiastri Congratulations, y/n. You absolutely deserve it 👏

⤷ user OSCAR COMMENTED!!! I REPEAT, OSCAR COMMENTED!!!

⤷ user oh he's brave

⤷ user you mean more like he finally got his shit together. this is his first comment ever after being a whole year in her likes 💀

OSCARPIASTRI

liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant and 1'983'034 others

oscarpiastri "She's everything and I'm just Ken."

yourusername But you're very good at car, love 🫶

⤷ oscarpiastri At least that 🫡

user OSCAR HAS A GF, I REPEAT, OSCAR HAS A GF AND SHE'S PRETTY!!!

user omg barbie y/n and her clumsy ken, i love this

landonorris congrats mate!

logansargeant FINALLY!

⤷ oscarpiastri You're acting as if we just came together...

⤷ logansargeant Well, it did take you long enough

user my new fav wag

⤷ user fr, no one can beat a mermaid

user HE FINALLY BAGGED THE GIRL!!

⤷ user took him over a year in the likes.. i feel so proud

user hold on... DOES ANYONE REMEMBER LUCY'S THREAD ABT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY IN JANUARY WITH Y/N AS MERMAID

⤷ user WAIT I THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY ONTO SMTH

⤷ user are you saying that 'prince eric' is OSCAR MF PIASTRI???

⤷ user his sister is an icon if this is actually true

⤷ user someone give her an award for the greatest matchmaker of the decade (right after oscar and y/n receiving one of the greatest lovestory of the decade)

⤷ user childhood friends to lovers with a twist (only if the whole thing is true which i'm manifesting rn)

user my god the delusion some people have 💀

taglist.@keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification

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

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smau #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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soulcaretherapist · 21 days

Text

Divine Talent

In the Matrix Destiny chart, I will be sharing a thread about the talent arcana energies, which is the position you most frequently ask about. The spot marked with X on the map is what we call divine talent, which represents the talents your soul is inherently born with in this life.

1 - You have many ideas and can generate ideas easily. When activated positively, you have the potential to succeed in whatever you touch.

2 - You can understand other people's motivations, that is, you can grasp why they do what they do at a glance. This gives you esoteric abilities.

3 - You have a good taste and a high sense of aesthetics. You have the ability to expand; you can turn a small task into big projects.

4 - You excel in team management and establishing authority. You have a strong talent for attracting money. If money isn’t coming to you, it means you are activating this area negatively.

5 - You have a talent for learning and teaching. You can master anything and explain everything you know in a way the other side can understand.

6 - Your communication skills and sincerity stand out. You are someone people come to for advice, trust what you say, and listen to your words.

7 - You have the ability to progress quickly in any job, reach your desired goals, and inspire change in both yourself and those around you.

8 - It's hard, if not impossible, for others to lie to you. You can approach everything objectively. You can achieve balance and harmony.

9 - You are more mature than your age, and this grants you wisdom. You have the ability to achieve your inner goals (knowing yourself, realizing your dreams and desires) on your own.

10 - This is a placement that brings luck. You have the talent to manage finances easily and spot profitable opportunities. You can easily attract people to yourself.

11 - Your physical and spiritual endurance is strong. You can do everything at once. You know your strengths and can use them in the most accurate way.

12 - Spiritual practices (like meditation, breathing, reiki) work well for you and have healing effects when applied to others. You have a different perspective and can solve seemingly unsolvable problems.

13 - You can make the necessary changes in every area of life and are not afraid to take risks. You can learn multiple things at once. You have the ability to easily absorb deep and detailed information.

14 - You have diplomacy and mediation skills. You can calm conflicts and maintain your composure during these processes.

15 - By opening yourself to others, you can show them what they cannot see in themselves. You can easily identify others' weaknesses, vulnerabilities, and talents.

16 - You are talented in directing people, organizing, and creating strategies. You can foresee events and chart your course accordingly.

17 - Your ability to express yourself is unique and creative. You can be the center of attention in any field you wish, shine, and stand out from the crowd.

18 - Your subconscious is very powerful. You may receive information through dreams, and your dreams may come true. Your manifesting ability is strong; everything you visualize can come into your life.

19 - You have leadership qualities and can inspire/give strength to others for success. You have the ability to not give up no matter what.

20 - You have good speaking skills and can influence masses. You can create systems from nothing and have excellent analytical skills. It's hard to confuse you.

21 - You have an aptitude for foreign languages and cultures. You can adapt to any environment. You can produce knowledge and content for a wide audience or listener base.

22 - Your decisions and thoughts may be unpredictable by those around you. You influence people with your positive energy. You can turn every tough task into fun and achieve results that will surprise everyone.

#matrix of destiny chart #matrix destiny #destiny matrix #astro community #astro notes #astrology

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phoenixcatch7 · 20 days

Text

Luo binghe dies.

The system offers the widowed husband resurrection, the ability to continue the world even after the 'true' story has ended. Because the world cannot exist without its protagonist, it comes to a halt. No time will pass until he is revived.

Sqq gets dragged through stories and universes by the system, trying to wrack up the 10,000 points needed. It takes a long time. Far too long. He plays too many roles, spends too years unable to truly settle, goes through so much it all starts to blur together.

Seeing this, an unsatisfying, boring ending without closure getting ever more likely as Sqq continues to fail to remember why he's doing it, the system releases lqg, sqh and the ghost of lbh from the stasis of their world and sends them after him. As the only one with any real understanding of the situation, sqh takes the lead. After chasing his footprints through a handful of worlds (that sqh can sort of recognise, and he adapts rapidly) they are finally find him. But he can't recognise them. He's seen too much, been too much, hidden himself away in more and more layers, not wanting to think if anything outside of the immediate problems. He can only recall the reason he set out in the vaguest terms, deflecting and outright interrupting when pressed.

So lbh manages to pull them into sqq's psyche.

From there, it's like a really big, five dimensional onion. Each role Sqq has taken solidified into another barrier between him and the worlds he was forced to live in and lose in rapid succession. Nothing, individually compared to the world of pidw, but added up they're quite the defence. Inside each layer is a false Sqq hidden in the crowd wearing someone else's face, and an item or location important to that version of him that'll take them through to the next layer.

Each time, they find another thread to the peak lord they lost. Another habit, or memory, or trivia comes back to life. It gets easier and easier to identify him no matter the body he wears. They share stories about him during rests, or moments of travel, to help the others identify him too. They kinda sorta maybe bond.

Then, finally, after a world of zombies and inter sect wars, they find a mimicry of qjp, and Sqq at the table. He's confused but delighted to see them. Even sqh gets hugged. He's shaken at their story, but over the moon at finally reaching 10k points and more than ready to return to reality.

Congratulations! The system says, and offers them their return to the real qjp, with the points needed to save lbh and with it, the world.

Lbhs eager hand on the yes button is clamped in a vice grip.

Sqh is looking at Sqq. Sqq furrows his brows in confusion.

Every transmigrator can see the system. As such, every version of Sqq can see the system.

However.

To the outside world, there is no system. There cannot be a system. To play their role, a transmigrator pretends to not have a system. They do not see a system, they do not hear it, there is nothing there. They play as a native.

This shen qingqiu cannot see the system.

He too is a role.

Lbh presses decline.

They search the house. Fake Sqq, User 002, lets them with mild befuddlement.

In the bedroom, over the bed, they find the rip.

There is a glowing city of glass, a thousand people of every shape and size on the streets. Thousand more race past in cars and buses and trains. By the nature of the dreams, their appearance does not stand out, and they've learned quick how to adapt from the crowd.

They have no clue how to identify him, but for the hundreds of variations they've met. They know his tics, his stance, the way he words his sentences. The way he frowns when confused. By now, they would know him blind and deaf - and they're going to need to.

They split up. They meet back up when the sun starts to go down. Cultivators can work without rest, and they're all highly levelled. They keep searching, unwilling to give up, but they've been doing it for a while, not wanting to pause at the last stretch. They're tired, stressed and jittery from the flashing neon lights and constant roaring sounds and unmoving smog.

A man walks past at 2 in the morning with a luo binghe phone case. A luo binghe key chain. A luo binghe lock screen identifiable from ten paces.

Airplane feels it would be justifiable to punch him.

But he recognises them on sight. Probably. He seems (entirely bro platonically) entranced by his xianxia husband, so it's hard to say.

Congratulations, congratulations congratulations! The system says. Good things should be said three times!

The man startles.

Ten thousand points, lqg says, grabbing him by the wrist. Let's go.

The system doesn't break them out this time. Instead, they treck back to his apartment, where his bedroom computer is the only light.

FIN, it says, and underneath a blinking cursor in an empty comment box.

In the computer, shen yuan says, with the certainty of a dreaming mind.

In the computer?

In the computer, he confirms, shoving sqh forward. The computer is the rip. Aight, sqh says, and reverse girl-from-the-ring's himself back to reality.

He lay on a bed. Looking up: a white, gauzy canopy hung overhead, with finely crafted perfume pouches hanging from the four corners. Looking down: he wore a green robe of an ancient style. Next to the pillow lay a paper fan. Looking to his left: three handsome young men, also in that ancient style.

The one closest to him burst into tears and kissed him full on the lips.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #svsss shen qingqiu #svsss fic #luo binghe #bingqiu #shang qinghua #liu qingge #He's an important part of the team!#Moral of the story: it's very important to truly get to know your friends and persevering can be hard but critical. Sometimes those friends #Can be pspsps'd like cats by their blorbo and that's also important to know if you want to understand them.#Also: don't forget why you're doing what you are. Don't get stuck in the sunk cost fallacy and run your life away. Don't shut yourself out #long post

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thesirencult · 9 months

Text

PAC READING: CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM YOUR FS

PILE 1

Your FS is going through a "10 Of Swords" moment. They have been blinded from the truth. Her light is stronger than any illusion's. You are part of this truth. You and this person share a very special soul bond. Your lives' are parallel to eachother, a thin thread connecting the dots until the moment you meet.

"Keep your map close to your chest darling.

Not many people will understand the journey you are embarking on. I do. I want you to know that I wish that all wishes come true the next year. I'm kinda hopping one of them involves me ; )

I wish you get to heal. I wish the sun is warming up your skin and your eyes are shining with hope. I wish I was there to hold your hand. We could embrace eachother under the sun.

You are my sun.

My Sun. Take the chance and that leap of faith. It will bring you closer to happiness and to me. There are times the most illogical choice and the most risky one leads us to success. The paradox of risk.

I wish you keep the flame in your heart alight and your optimism helps you rise above every single. I wish you find love and guidance within your soul.

Goodbye, for now, my Sun and Merry Christmas <3"

PILE 2

Your person is not happy. They are far away from you but energetically they can feel that you are struggling. Your person is very spiritual and they want you to hold on for a tiny bit longer. They might be older than you. When you meet they will take on the role of a mentor. They see you, the real you and they want to help this diamond form under pressure.

Your FS is very calm, cool and collected. They know what they want. Your message is more heav,y but I know, deep in my heart, that you are telepathetically connected and they constantly send you messages, especially through songs and quotes you stumble upon.

"I wish you could see yourself from my POV. The amazing, beautiful, strong soul that you are. I wish you could look at life through a different prism. I want you to take the reigns and show everyone who you are. I wish you find the strength to own your beauty.

Your energy is mesmerizing. Like a cold night under the full moon and a wolf howling in the background. Hecate.

Choose sovereignty. Choose yourself baby. You're not unlucky. Your time just hasn't come yet.

I want you to push one last time baby. Do it for me. I'm sorry I'm not there to wish you "Happy Christmas".

I wish you manifest your dreams,I wish you dare to invest in your future, in our future without thinking you don't deserve it.

You have more options than you think. Don't make any bad choice you will regret later.

I love you baby. I want you to be healthy and strong."

PILE 3

Your FS is very "hungry" for you. They want you to let them take control. They are more possessive and obsessive than you would expect. They show their emotions through touch and on the bed.

They are daring and won't mind to show that you are theirs to everyone. Your FS knows taht you have big goals and they want you to know that in the future you will achieve all your dreams.

They are pretty succesfull themselves and they want you to get that bag and level up. They love material things and they invest in their future. You would meet in an environment supporting your level up (gym, career day, course, seminar etc.).

"My lovey dovey Sweetheart,

I wish you indulge this season. I wish you let your hair down for a while. When you are mine I will help you calm down. I will take the burdens off of your shoulders and tie your hands. Merry Christmas my lovely baby. I wish this time next year we are together, driving around in our luxury vehicles.

Let me dominate you. Let me take control. I will wrap satin sheets around you and carry you to the bathroom. A bathtub full of rose petals. Champagne for you my love. Sit on my face.

I wish you achieve all your goals. I wish you get your dream car, you bossy little lady. I will hold your hand through everything. I'll be by your side on long nights and I will proudly parade you around and show you off to everyone. I want them to know that the most accomplished person is mine.

You are mine. Mine. Mine.

Always yours, your FS."

#astrology #tarot reading #level up journey #pac reading #tarot #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #soulmate #intuitive readings #psychic #channeled message #future spouse #twinflame

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astonmartinii · 1 year

Text

signed up for life | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x signlanguageinterpretator!reader

f1 finally introduces a sign language interpretor to their media team

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo and 110,951 others

yourusername: ahhhh such a dream come true, my first f1 weekend was an absolute dream and to be able to represent the deaf community on such a big platform was such a pleasure - here's to many more and to normalising sign language on major sports broadcasts !!

view all comments

user1: f1 may be going backwards in terms of fia tomfoolery but i'm super happy to see some good progress

user2: why isn't sign language compulsory in schools? seeing y/n has defo inspired me to start learning

lewishamilton: you're such an inspiration and a great addition to the paddock

yourusername: thank you lewis and thank you for the warm welcome <3

user3: f1 finally stepping up the representation game

user4: i was living for the sass in her signing i can't wait to watch her sign the inevitable domestic between toto and christian

charles_leclerc: welcome to the paddock y/n!

yourusername: thank you charles :)

user5: i ship it already

user6: take a day off already lord she's been there one weekend and you're already minimising her to a driver she could date

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 1,204,871 others

tagged: yourusername

f1: how did you guys enjoy y/n y/ln's sky sports debut this weekend? y/n will be on the broadcast team this season as their sign language interpreter!

view all comments

user10: she killed it i love her already

user11: the signing was a slay but can we also talk about how she's slaying the fashion game?

user12: finally lewis has some good competition

lewishamilton liked this comment

alexalbon: welcome y/n !! thank you for the extra help with the hard of hearing fans on friday

user13: huh?

user14: oh a girl on twitter has a thread about this, she's hard of hearing and y/n stopped and acted as translator for her with all of the drivers going into the paddock

user15: omg i love her even more

lewishamilton: can't wait to start my signing lessons

yourusername: you're lucky you've got the best teacher around

user16: uh HELLO?

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, lilymunhe and 149,086 others

yourusername: taking advantage of the mini break

view all comments

user17: who told her she could serve this hard?

lilymunhe: gosh i have a crush on you

alexalbon: do i mean nothing to you?

lilymunhe: not compared to her

yourusername: well i am flattered but unfortunately not up for grabs :(

user18: she's not up for grabs ??? we already lost her ???

user19: it's only been like five races who ever it is wasn't messing around

user20: not to be one of those crazy wag conspiracy theorists but the guy in the last slide is defo lewis

lewishamilton: pastries on a boat?

yourusername: idk the guy i was with thought it was a great idea

user21: chatting like it wasn't him they're so shameless

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 1,023,677 others

lewishamilton: perks to living in monaco

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user22: oh to be rich...

yourusername: hmmm a baguette on a boat

lewishamilton: idk the girl i was with thought it was a great idea

user23: please stop playing with us

georgerussell63: i see my invite was lost in the post yet again

lewishamilton: i wasn't prepared to hear you complain about thirdwheeling the whole time

georgerussell63: clear solution here... invite carmen and it's a double date?

user24: so they're just gonna be like this and just never confirm whether they're together or not?

charles_leclerc: so this is what my boat was used for ?

lewishamilton: i think i'll keep everything that happened on that boat to myself

charles_leclerc: based on that i don't think i want to know

user25: poor guy, getting fucked by ferrari and lewis fucked y/n on his boat

pierregasly: most action he's seen in a while

user26: charles is just catching so many strays 😭

f1wagupdates

liked by user38, user29 and 2,340 others

tagged: yourusername, lewishamilton

f1wagupdates: y/n y/ln and lewis hamilton have all but confirmed their relationship after they spent the entire summer break together and arrived to the first race back at spa together. lewis even showed how much time they've been spending together by signing during a tiktok filmed for mercedes' account. what do you think of the couple?

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user39: they're so so cute that's my PADDOCK POWER COUPLE

user40: they are too sexy it should be illegal for them to be so sexy

user41: can't wait for some bitter old men to say that she can't be on the broadcast team cause of "bias"

user42: i need them to stand on me

user43: i think they might actually be the best f1 couple ever soz

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, lewishamilton and 309,778 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: yeah i guess he won yet another race but we all know his biggest win is off the track

view all comments

user44: mama knows her worth i love her

lewishamilton: never doubt that you're my biggest prize

yourusername: i love youuuuuuuuuu

lewishamilton: leave your meeting and come home please

user45: move over roscoe i'm their dog now anything to be with them

roscoelovescoco: ????

lilymunhe: give me a chance i swear

alexalbon: i regret ever introducing you two

yourusername: oh please albono you love any excuse to hang out with us

lewishamilton: yea i don't hear you complaining on our double dates

user46: lily, y/n, lewis and alex all double date ???? kill me.

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,340,887 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: getting to the end of the season and the hard work is paying off. we keep pushing until the end but always remember to take time to be with the ones you love

view all comments

user47: only this man could make a race win post so sappy

yourusername: proud of you baby

lewishamilton: i love you

user48: the fact that lewis is so good at signing now he could do most of his post race interview in bsl (though he still needs y/n there for reassurance)

user49: i was there and interlagos had a mainstage activity of y/n teaching basic sign language I LOVED IT

mercedesamgf1: let's go lewis 💪

roscoelovescoco: lets goooooooo dads

user50: guys i worked out that sign we always see lewis and y/n do to each other that's not on any of dictionaries i've looked at - it's their sign names and saying they love each other

user51: they're so fucking cheesy but i love them

mercedesamgf1

liked by yourusername, f1 and 1,679,045 others

tagged: lewishamilton

mercedesamgf1: LEWIS HAMILTON IS FINALLY AN EIGHT TIME CHAMPION OF THE WORLD 🏆

view all comments

user52: OMFG IT FINALLY HAPPENED I NEEDED THIS SO MCUH

yourusername: speechless honestly

lewishamilton: really? cause all i heard was screaming on the broadcast

yourusername: FALSE I WAS PROFESSIONAL

user53: the way i knew he would win but i don't know what to do with myself now it has happened?

roscoelovescoco: congrats dad !!!!

georgerussell63: mega season from lewis 🏆 we go again next season 💪

lewishamilton: thank you george, your time will come

user54: the kiss... parents for real

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and 901,347 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: this season has been a rollercoaster but two things have stood out to me. 1. i met the love of my life and the man i will be with for the rest of my life and was able to watch the man i love make history and i couldn't be prouder. 2. i got to represent my community on one of the biggest platforms ever and inspire people to pick up the beautiful language of sign language which is the most rewarding part of my job!! thank you so much for this opportunity, the love and for taking the journey into sign language, we welcome you xx

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user53: no i love you so much and your addition to f1 is invaluable

user54: you guys are so cute and so inspiring, really god's favourites

lewishamilton: i love you so much, thank you for your love and support and for introducing me to this beautiful language

yourusername: you're such an inspiration to me baby, you're a record holder and the holder of my heart

landonorris: lord i might throw up

yourusernme: if you're not here to congratulate STFU

landonorris: my bad, congrats (you guys are so grossly in love)

user55: they're so parents it's now illegal for them to divorce

f1: thank you for educating us, we'll see you next season !

note: hope y'all enjoy, i'm partially deaf in both ears and am currently learning BSL to feel closer to my community and had this idea. i wish this was an actual position in f1 but hopefully in the future xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton instagram au

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the-californicationist · 2 months

Text

Picking Flowers

@pricesugarwife left this amazing comment on one of my posts and i couldn't get it out of my head...

pricesugarwife: Nos complaces con un smut Hades!Price x Persefone!Reader??? *se arrodilla*

te amo griss!! espero que te guste esta historia que escribí para ti, nena. 🩷🩷

TW: rape/non-con/cnc elements, loss of virginity, corruption, very bad greek mythology knowledge (sorry, it's just make believe okay jeez)

In a grove in Hellas, long, long ago…

Before you opened your eyes, you already knew what you would see. Slowly, as sleep fell away from you, like the warmth of a blanket being pulled away from your body, a heavy darkness giving way to light, you could see a warm, egg yolk glow behind your eyelids. The sun had cut a path through your windowpane, and now it cast itself like a spell, masking its burn over your face. When you opened your eyes, you would squint through your lashes, looking up through the green mottled leaves, neon, blinding, of the twisted yew outside of your window. You could smell your mother’s bread baking in her old dutch oven, hints of oregano and pepper wafting through your room, bringing the warmth of the hearth with them. You could almost taste the crispy crust, roasted to perfection, protecting the soft, textured middle.

Finally, you peeked between your lashes, and before you, your self-made dream came true. The sun filtered in through your glass a little less bright than what you had imagined, but the greens were there, and they reminded you that today was your favorite day: the arrival of Spring.

“Sephie! Are you awake?”

Your mother’s sing-song voice fluttered down the hall and tucked itself through the crack of your bedroom door. She always knew when you woke up, and although you’d never questioned it, you had to admit it was uncanny. You chalked it up to the wonders of motherhood. She seemed to know every other thing about you, so why question it?

“Yes, Mom. Coming!” You called back, your own voice a little stronger, a little less like a delicate lark, a little more like a robin.

You were very much a late bloomer, still living with your mother at almost twenty years of age, especially when most of the girls in your village had suitors or proposals by sixteen. But, you didn’t let it bother you. As your mother was ready to remind you, the thread of your life was your own, and you would follow its path until the end, whether you wanted to or not. If Lachesis had measured your life out to be this way, then that was that. Why question it?

You pulled on your robes, woven on your family loom of the finest silk threads. You had begged your mom to add a tight spiral of cyclamen along the hem, the flowers so familiar, their pink heads watching you as you followed your daily path to the river. So, she had insisted that you try. You were well enough a woman now, and more than skilled enough to craft your own clothes. And you had; it had been easier than you thought, and you added a few glass beads in that same heart-shaped petal to the tips of the cord of your belt.

You owned no looking glass, but you never noticed its absence. There was so much more to do than to stare at something you couldn’t change. Focus on what you can do, your mother’s voice haunted your mind, not on what is already done. Besides, your mother insisted that you were beautiful, so why question it?

“Here, my darling,” your mom tapped you under your chin, handing you a cloth satchel full of bread, fruit, seeds, and dried meats, “Before you go to the river, please check on the well. It should have clear water for you to fill this skin. Fill it again on your way home. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t, Momma. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

You were out of the door and heading down the hill to the well before you knew it, the feel of the soft grass comforting your heels, cold and damp from the morning dew. The village below you was coming alive, its people tending to their new lambs, planting seeds in the black, fertile soil, carrying buckets of water to and from the olive groves, pruning the dead branches away from the new growth on each branch. Their bustle and laughter as they worked together made you long to live in town. But, your mother had insisted that the town and its people would just be a distraction, and you’d never experienced such a thing; why question it?

When you approached the well, you were alone. You let your hands trace their way along the rough, grey stones, feeling the familiar edge, reaching for the thick rope to pull up the bucket. The worn hemp gave way, and the echo of the old wooden bucket hitting the sides of the well rang out like shrouded bells. You reached for the handle of the bucket, pulling it up to the rim, carefully filling your waterskin, making sure not to waste a drop. You used the rest to wash your face and hands, letting the cool water soak into your cheeks, adding moisture back to your body after a long sleep.

Suddenly, your eyes darted up to the treeline just beyond the well’s clearing. You thought you saw a shadow that stretched just a little too long, shaped just a little too wrong… but when you studied the dark spaces between the trunks, there was nothing but lush overgrowth. You packed your waterskin and tossed the bucket back into the water; you were eager to get down to the river. The light always played tricks on you in this glade, so why question it?

You walked quite a ways through the valley, using your fingers and the softness of your touch to coax the flowers to bloom and grow as you let your hand fondle its way through the tall grass. When you reached your river, you savored the sight. The way that it curved into a deep ox bow was your favorite thing. It was as if the river had carved out a small, circular stage just for you. In it, you worked on your crafts, practicing growing buds from seeds, trees from roots, ivy from the palm of your hand. Then, you sent it out, down the river towards town, making sure the village was well-shaded, well-fed, and well-protected from the elements.

It was hard work, and you always slept after a long afternoon of using your magic, but your mother always said that no one else would be able to do a better job than you, so you kept at it, and it was the one thing you never questioned.

This time, when you woke up from your nap, you knew you weren’t alone. As you sat up, you looked around, thinking that a striped kri-kri or a golden jackal would be nibbling at the food in your pack. But, sitting with his legs crossed, was a man dressed only in a dark blue chilton, the shoulder of which hung loosely around his waist as if he were a farmer who had been toiling in the field. He was no farmer. Not with those inhuman eyes of ice fire, pale and bright, glowing although the sun was at his back. His body was that of a giant, muscle-bound and heavy, full of power just rippling beneath the surface. He reminded you of the well. How deep did his strength flow? His beard and chest were furry but well-groomed, just like that of a nobleman.

You greeted him, apologizing for your slumber,

“Good day, sir. Forgive my sleeping. I was just tending to my flowers, and I must have dozed off.”

“No trouble,” his smile came to him easily, and you enjoyed it, basking in it, “I enjoy watching you work. It is a gift to see it up close.”

He reached out his hand and plucked one of your most vibrant hyacinths from its stem, cradling your art in his huge hands.

“Beautiful,” he purred, speaking of the flower but looking at you.

“Thank you, sir. Can I offer you some bread or fruit from my pack? I carried clean water from the well this morning.”

“How generous you are,” his smile showed his straight, large teeth this time, and he tucked your own flower behind your ear, letting the delicate petals tickle your sensitive flesh.

You prepared a small piece of bread for him, decorating it with nuts and juicy lobes of fruit that you had carefully peeled with your hands, tearing off a piece of dried meat for him to try as well. You ate with him in companionable silence, watching him as he chewed. Whereas the kri-kri would have greedily gobbled up the bread from your palm, this man seemed unsurprised by it. What was a delicacy for some of Gaia’s creatures was a mere appetizer for others. But, it may be that he had much finer fare at home, so why question it?

“Do you live near to this glade, sir?” You asked, hoping to learn more about your handsome stranger.

His hands peeled the delicate pith from the citrus lobe you had given him, expertly trimming it as if he had done it for a thousand mornings, knowing exactly how hard or easy he needed to pull the flesh for it to yield, feeding it into his mouth in a wet, juicy bite, letting the sweet nectar soak into his beard and become sticky.

He chewed slowly, eyeing you carefully as he did, seemingly in no rush to answer your question. So, you tacked on another one, impatiently,

“What should I call you?”

“I have been called many names,” he spoke, looking down at his hands, staring at his open palms as if to divine some sort of future before his eyes shot back to yours, pinning you where you sat.

“Hm,” you smiled, inching closer, pretending to get a better look at him, studying him like a statue at a temple, “You do not look like an Akakios, nor an Eirenaios…”

“No,” he chuckled, his laugh rolling like a volcanic crag inside of his throat, “I should think not.”

“I cannot imagine naming you Melanthios, though it fits your face,” you giggled.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that, little petal.”

His laugh was still jovial, so you pushed him further,

“Perhaps Kleisthenes. Your strength is apparent, as is your status. Surely, that must fit you.”

You leaned back, biting off another chunk of bread, saving the crust for last, satisfied with your naming ritual.

He shook his head,

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s very brief, or at least much less trouble than Kleisthenes.”

“Bion, then.”

“Mm,” he frowned a bit at the edges of his smile, “Quite the opposite in essence, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps you are a foreigner. One of Troy, or Rome, even? Something brief, like John.”

“I am foreign enough to this land, so I suppose John is close enough,” he sighed, allowing you to finally take your win.

You hadn’t realized how close you had drawn yourself into him. You were now near enough to smell the oils on his skin: laurel, salt, and something akin to tarnished silver. His hand reached out to touch the curls of your hair, carefully braided by your mother, entwined with small flowers and ivy stems to keep it off of your neck. But, after your nap, one lock had escaped and was now being delicately twirled in this man’s immense fingers.

“And what should I call you, little flower? Marjoram is too serious for you. Iris, not serious enough.”

“Persephone,” you offered, unwilling to force him to endure the same naming torture you had just gone through.

“Ah!” He gasped, leaning toward your face as if seeing you for the first time, “Persephone.”

Then, before you could even know what was happening to you, your lips were tasting his. He was cradling you in his arms, holding your limp body against his bare chest, the gold of his necklaces and armbands warm from his body heat as they pressed into your skin. He was kissing you, moving his mouth against yours, forcing your jaw to yield to him, to take his tongue into the hollow of your cheeks, to suck the citrus juice from it, the memory of his food still fresh on the muscle.

You had never been kissed before, even though you had practiced on two of your fingers held tightly together, watching lovers sneak up to the well on hot days of work to do to each other what you longed for someone to do to you. It was so much more satisfying to feel another’s lips move against your own, nothing like the static, chaste practice you’d tried to mimic.

Only now, after you were left gasping, feeling his hands wander along the edges of your chilton, his fingers beginning to dig into the loose gaps in the fabric, did you question whether you should be kissing this man or not. But, it felt too good to stop.

John, or whoever he was, pulled away for a moment, and his eyes seemed to study your mouth, inspecting your plump, swollen lips as if something was wrong. You wrapped your hands around his neck to steady yourself, and he lay you back, letting your head be supported by the plush grasses beneath you. He spoke to you in a hushed whisper, even though no one was around for miles,

“I have been watching you, Persephone. I see you growing your lush gardens, creating a world full of life, all for me to take. And I come back every autumn, when the sun is shy and the sky is dark, just to inspect all of the gifts you have given me,” he kissed you again, his hand finally snaking its way under the shoulder of your robes, peeling it down slowly to reveal your full breasts to the open air, “And I eat them up. All of them, and I take them home. I’ve been keeping them for you. All of your treasures from years past. They’re still there for you to see.”

Then, before you could ask him what he meant, his mouth latched onto the dark nipple of your breast, suckling at it like a babe. And then, very much not like a babe. Like something else. Like a wolf digging the marrow from a bone. Like an otter clawing at a clam, slurping up the tender meat inside.

And then, he stopped. He sat up, holding you by the shoulders and helping you sit up with him, fixing your top so that you were covered again, dizzy and reeling from his attention, the wet skin of your aching nipples sticking to the silk fabric of your gown.

“Sir, I…”

“Come with me, love,” he held out his hand, “Don’t you want to meet your old friends?”

You didn’t know what to say, but he seemed so friendly. There was a dark, twisted piece of wort inside of you, growing and twining itself around your belly that made you want to see if he might put his mouth on you again. It had been so lovely… Besides, you very much missed your old creations. You remembered hundreds and hundreds of seasons of creations you had made, trees and plants, fruits and flowers. It would be wonderful to be reminded of all of the things you had brought into the world. If he had kept them for you, it may even be rude to refuse his hospitality. He seemed so sure, so why question it?

So, you took his hand, and he led you through the earth, ripping at the dirt like a heavy veil, marching down into the darkness, leading you step after step down a winding, rocky staircase. Above your head, you saw the last bit of a ruby-colored sun, setting in the distance, illuminating the ceiling of roots and fungus that hung above you as you delved further into his depths.

Then, your heart skipped a beat. You saw your river again, her wine-dark waters now black, curling in that same ox bow pattern, cutting the land in half. On one bank, the souls of the living waited to be ferried across, and on the other, fields and fields of your own flowers, frozen in time, neither growing nor dead, shrouded in darkness in the grey soil of the Underworld.

He led you onward, towards his blue, gleaming castle, all of its walls made of shining glass, distorting the world outside, and concealing the one within. You marveled at the wide door, its ebon gate the only iron you could see, and all of the castle guards were the dead. Their lifeless eyes gray and cloudy, set inside of gaunt, bony faces, unseeing, unfeeling. You did not fear them, even though you were sure you were meant to. You knew them. You had made the food that fed them while they were alive. You had grown the trees and bushes that had sheltered them when they lay beneath your boughs, exhausted from their labor or their warfare. Who was afraid of an old friend?

Then, you watched your companion climb the long stair up to the throne of Hades, for that is who he was after all, and he sat on its plush seat, motioning for you to sit in an equally-crafted chair beside him. There was no difference between the two thrones. His was not higher, nor was it more elaborate. So, you sat, waiting to see what Hades wanted to show you.

A delightful processional began, and you spotted some of your first flowers being brought to you on pedestals and pillows, you ooh’d and ahh’d at them, sharing stories and listening to Hades tell you all of his tales of how he brought them here to keep. How he’d waited so long for you to come and join him here, to rule in the Underworld beside him as its queen.

“What do you think, love? My people are desperate for more of your creations. You are the only one who reminds them of home. They see your trees and your flowers, your fish and your fruits, and their souls finally know peace. Be my queen, rule beside me, help me put these souls to rest here in Elysium.”

“I am still a maid, sir,” you told him, “My mother is the one who would make that choice for me.”

He looked at you confused,

“You are a goddess most powerful. There is no one who can make choices for you. Even I am no match for your magic. I cannot bloom these fields.”

“When I return home, I will consult her wisdom, and she will help us marry.”

“Very well,” he sighed, “Perhaps you will at least allow me to show you the same hospitality as you have shown me. There is a feast that awaits you in my chambers. Will you join me, petal?”

You had no excuse. How could you refuse him the same thing you had provided. After dinner, you would return home and tell your mother about this handsome suitor.

You followed him from the throne room and entered his chambers, sitting on a wide lounge where platters of meat and fruit and honey in wide bowls waited for you to dig into them. You did not shy away now that you were in the comfort of his rooms, letting Hades sit beside you, as close as he could, feeding you berries and sweetmeats from his hands, dipping his fingers into your lips and letting you suck them clean, laughing and joking with you.

He had done a poor job of tying your robe back onto your shoulder, and it kept falling down. Finally, when you were about to adjust it again, he stopped you, pulling it down even further to hang with the cord of your belt, letting your breasts hang free upon your ribs, heavy and full, sensitive from his earlier ministrations.

“C’mere, love. Lay back and let me feed you. You must be so tired from your work today,” he murmured in your ear, allowing you to lay your back across his chest, his legs spread wide to allow you to sit between them.

You did as he bade, letting him feed you grapes dipped in honey, delicious fish and mussels, crab and octopus still cold and fresh. He ate, too, feeding you sometimes from his own mouth, bending to kiss you with sweet bites between his teeth.

Then, when you had both had your fill, he used his hands to rub your sore muscles, easing the tension in your neck, down your shoulders, and then finally, he stopped,

“Alright, love. We should bring you back to Demeter. I’m sure she is waiting.”

“No,” you protested, ignoring the fact that he knew your mother’s name, “I mean… I thought we could stay a bit longer. I’m so full; a journey would be too arduous right now.”

“Oh?” He returned to petting you, letting his hands trace just outside of your breasts, fingers skating through your underarms and then up along the thin skin of your neck, “How should we occupy our time, my love?”

“Just… like this,” you let your hands wander to his strong thighs, massaging down his knees and calves, admiring the muscles there.

“If that’s what you want, my love, then you shall have it. All that you want shall be yours,” his tone was dark in a way you had never heard from another person, but you felt so good, so why question it?

His hands were callused and warm as they covered your sensitive breasts, plucking at your nipples like the petals of one of your flowers, and you mewled from the pleasure, asking him for more and more and more.

Then, you felt his mouth on your neck, sucking and licking you, reminding you of how it felt when his mouth was on your tits, making your flesh tingle like the crackle of lighting, like the cold of the first swim of the season.

So, you turned towards him, spreading your legs on either side of his hips, sitting proudly in his lap, hoping he would return his mouth to where it was needed. And he did. It was as if he read your mind, knowing you wanted him to suck and suck and suck against the softness of your skin, to use his tongue to press into the nub of your nipple, over and over until you felt your legs begin to shake as if you were shivering from the cold.

“My pretty flower, it feels like you need something else, hm? What would you like? I will give you Olympus if you ask me for it.”

You weren’t sure what to ask for. When a flower asks to be picked, growing symmetrical and soft as it does, what does it know about the plucking? Only picked flowers know what they’re really asking for, don’t they?

“I don’t know… I just… I need…” You tried to make sense of your body’s wishes, and why you were rocking your hips back and forth, why you needed to feel something between your thighs.

Hades’ smile widened, that dark beard pressed out of the way of his full mouth as it turned up into a grin,

“How about this, hm?”

He fumbled with your robes and his, and then you felt yourself sigh with relief when he placed some part of him between your legs, giving you something to rub against through your softest petals, wet with excitement and desire. You both sighed, and you could feel the heat of him as you rocked back and forth. It felt like his wrist, but then again, it didn’t. It was wide enough, but at the end, instead of a hand, it was the fleshy edge of another tongue, perhaps. Something that was licking your hole every time you passed over it.

Eventually, everything was wet beneath you. His robes, your robes, his body, your body… it was a sticky, dripping mess. You had lost your breath, your heart beating out of your chest, your mind sparkling like a fire and then going blank like you had drank too much wine. Over and over, you felt everything and then nothing. It may have been hours, but you couldn’t tell. He didn’t seem like he was in a rush to be finished with your game, so you didn’t question it.

“More, still?” He finally asked, kissing you on the mouth sweetly, sucking on the tip of your lolling tongue, “My greedy little flower…”

You weren’t sure what more there was. But, he showed you. This time, when you rocked back, he used his hand to notch himself at your hole, and if you pushed forward, you would have to press yourself onto him, to take him inside of yourself somehow. It was the same way you had used your fingers inside yourself to play in your bed or in your glade by the river, just touching yourself for the comfort of it.

But, this was different. This was not comfort, it was magic. It felt like old magic, something from the world as it was before. And yet, he had promised you whatever you wanted, so you didn’t question it.

As you slipped yourself over his fleshy knob, you experimented with your movements, rolling your hips back and forth, seeing how it felt to push him deeper and deeper inside of you, stopping when you felt like you were being stretched open. Then, you tried circles, turning your hips around and around as you sat in his lap, feeling him slipping deeper and deeper inside of you as you found your rhythm.

He was busying himself with kissing you, or suckling from your nipples, but you could tell he was enjoying himself as much as you were. His grunting was that of a rutting deer, hoarse and loud. Finally, he reached some sort of limit, and he grabbed you, changing places, pressing you beneath him on the lounge, nearly ripping off your robes and his own, making you naked in front of him.

Then, you saw what you had been using for your pleasure. His phallus stood tall and strong against his belly, ruddy and throbbing, shining with your wet nectar. You had never seen one up close, and when you cradled it in your hands, it felt alive, like it was separate from him even though its thick root was buried deep inside his body.

Hades’ eyes glowed bright blue, his own magicks coursing within him, and he told you,

“Open your legs.”

So, you obeyed, entranced by his power and the feeling you were experiencing, weightless and floating in your own mind. He fed himself into you, as deep as you had gone and then deeper, not stopping when you hissed in a breath from the feeling of your muscles stretching beyond the point of comfort, delving far enough to cause pain.

“Ahh!” You cried out, but he shushed you with his mouth, kissing you again and again, distracting you from the discomfort of his invasion.

“That’s my good girl…” He praised you, just as your mother always did, for a job well-done or a chore checked off the list.

But, you didn’t feel like you were doing a chore. In fact, you felt like you were watching him do one for you. His thrusting was violent and repetitive, his huge rod pounding into you with every snap of his hips, grinding his tip inside of you deeper and deeper. As you moved past the pain and back into a throbbing sort of pleasure, he looked as if he was taking your pain away from you in this ritual. His face was set in a grimace, his eyes ferocious and snarling, his voice growling and letting out only deep, throaty whines.

So, you did what he had done for you. You kissed his furry chest and latched onto his soft nipple, listening to him cry out with a sudden shout.

“Love, I can’t… ”

You didn’t know how to help him, so you kept sucking and sucking, hoping you would bring him the pleasure that you felt, that you might ease his pain.

But, he grabbed your face in his huge hands, pulling you away from his chest, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips press into a helpless sort of pout.

He growled down at you like a wounded animal,

“So beautiful. My queen. My perfect little flower.”

Then, you felt your body tumble into another one of your hypnotic phases; your muscles clenching, your toes curling, your breath neither coming in nor rushing out, helpless to your own reaction.

“Unghff-fuck… that’s it. Persephone…” He looked at you with those eyes, the eyes of some unearthly being, the bright icy glow keeping you in that cyclone of pleasure, thrashing you with it over and over, making you feel a wet gush between your legs, warm and slick.

He released your face and leaned backwards, peering down at your body from his kneeling position, letting you watch how he was pistoning inside of you, pressing himself through you and filling you up. He watched himself for a moment, staring down at where you were joined, and then he sank himself all the way in and tossed back his head with a bellowing shout.

You felt his prick writhing inside of you, pulsing and throbbing. You waited, panting with him, watching him wipe the sweat from his brow. He pulled himself out slowly, and lay it on your belly, letting you see the last of his seed drooled from his tip. There was blood on your skin when he pulled away, and as much as you tried to wipe it away, it stained.

Hades carried you to his bed, wrapping you in his dark blue silk sheets, cradling you in his arms until you both drifted off to sleep.

You awoke to the sound of a woman crying. A voice calling your name. But, you were so tired, you must have been dreaming, so you didn’t question it.

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