#this was fuelled by a lack of sleep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reiderwriter · 8 months

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505

Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!

Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~

Masterlist || Playlist

Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence.

Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth.

You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow.

He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case.

He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan.

He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady.

You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants.

‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax.

Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen.

He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow.

“Spencer, fuck…”

Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for.

He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt.

You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious.

He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep.

Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?

“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”

“What?”

“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock.

Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself.

“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.”

“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips.

His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary.

“You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass.

It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked.

When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately.

“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would.

“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.”

You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates.

“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with.

“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.”

Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything.

Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name.

Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him.

Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction.

Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom.

It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds.

With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep.

When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you.

But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself.

At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him.

You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered.

He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock.

“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move.

“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring.

His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat.

“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor.

“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh.

He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms.

“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear.

You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you.

“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him.

“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again.

You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off.

It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to.

“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply.

“Y/N, please I mean it-”

“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours.

He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward.

He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings.

After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him.

“Stroke it.”

You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid.

Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his.

“Spread your legs. Now.”

You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused.

“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.

“Y-Yes.”

“Did you think about me in the shower?”

“Spencer, I can expl-”

“Answer me. Please.”

“Yes.”

“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.”

He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest.

But he wasn't in a giving mood.

“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor.

Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet.

He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down.

“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view.

“Why should I?”

“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.”

“You're manipulative, you know that?”

“I just know what I want, Spencer.”

“Then come and take it.”

Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap.

It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you.

But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly.

Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.

You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back.

He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night.

His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.

It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him.

“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer.

You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it.

“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again.

All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world.

You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you.

Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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everparanoid · 1 month

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Soft Universe Sylus x F! Reader

word count: 5.4k

tags: fluff, angst

cw: reader is MC from love and deepspace, minor hades and persephone vibes, Canon typical violence, Canon Compliant, No use of Y/N, minor spoilers for Sylus's secret time Midnight Warmth and Lost Oasis, inspired by the Sylus's event story in Adventure Above Clouds

AO3 link: Soft universe

"With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed."

Ever since you resontated with Sylus you have been having weird dreams. Or a story in which you are bound to Sylus again and he becomes clingyier than usual.

You dreamt of red mist encasing you in its warm embrace, licking at your heels, and trailing its ghostly lips along your body. Leaving in its wake skin the shade of sunset and a heart so full it could burst. You dreamt of it traversing the surface of your soul, gathering the embers of your evol and moulding them with its own before huddling into the open void in your chest.

A groan left you as the mist disappeared under your skin. Despite the initial discomfort, you didn’t hate the oddly familiar sensation of being whole.

You took an unsteady step forward. Beneath your feet, you could no longer feel the ground. Above you, the starless sky loomed. You blinked refocusing your eyes, believing they were the issue, not the lack of starlight. But nothing changed.

You heard the caw of a crow. In the darkness, you saw its ruby eyes watching you, piercing through your skin, and staring straight into your soul. Your heart thumped, beating faster, harder, growing hotter with every passing second. You keeled over, clutching your chest.

Your power, you heard the mist say. Yours.

You felt the bird's keen eyes as light burst through the cracks between your taut fingers. With a scream, you bent back as a beam of brilliant light shot out of your chest, illuminating the sky with crimson stars. Each one bright. Each one filled with memories you knew were yours but couldn’t recall like lifetimes come and gone. Or universes born and destroyed.

The dream dissipated and your eyes fluttered open to see fire dancing in turbulent strokes in the fireplace, charring the wood that fuelled it. In the distance you heard the quiet murmuring of a film on the flat screen. You slapped your lips tiredly, rubbing your cheek against the warm, unusually hard cushion you clung to.

“This movie is boring. You should go back to sleep,” Sylus said, brushing your cheek gently. The tender touch was scolding on your skin.

You nuzzled your head further into the hard cushion. A deep chuckle shook through it.

“What are you thinking about, kitten?” Sylus asked.

His heart raced against your ear, burning through its beats as though it were chasing death. It must have been night, you reckoned. His heart was only ever this fast in the dark.

“Sylus…” you whispered groggily. Your focus locked on the familiar necklace resting on his chest—an empty aether core? A Protocore? A simple crystal? You yawned, blinking once, twice…three times. Wait Sylus!

You shot up, attempting to pull away. But finding your movement restricted by an inhumane force, you fell back on top of him.

“Surprise. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He lifted his arm and yours lifted too revealing the glowing crimson evol link cuffing you to the renowned Onychinus leader. “Were you thinking of getting rid of me again?”

The amused smirk on his lips told you he wasn’t angry, but rather entertained.

“No,” you responded.

“Being quick to respond only confirms your guilt, sweetie.”

You tugged your arm, pulling his too.

He grunted quietly. “Your defiance is getting old.”

“Maybe if you stopped putting me in awkward situations it wouldn’t,” you responded.

He sighed and squinted at you.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself? ” you teased.

“Silence is also an answer.” He lowered his head closer to yours. “And I like to think that actions speak louder than words.”

Sylus was a gorgeous man; breathtaking to say the least. Just being close to him made your heart betray you in ways you hated. You let out a gasp. “Sy—,”

His phone buzzing on the coffee table interrupted you. He grabbed his phone and put it on silent.

“What time is it?” you asked. You tried to peer at the screen’s reflection in Sylus’s frameless glasses but failed.

He turned his screen to you. “Nearly two am.”

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some gang to bully? Or some notorious deals to strike?” you asked. It had been a coincidence, your bumping into each other whilst you were taking a three day vacation from Linkon in one of the outskirt islands. A pure innocent coincidence—according to Sylus. You struggled to believe that, however, as it wasn’t the first time Sylus had conveniently appeared at the same place as you. Seemingly with nothing to do but be mysterious and strange and there.

He shook his head. “Have you forgotten?”

You had forgotten but only because of your dream. It wasn’t every day you had a nightmare so vivid that it tore you out of your sleep. It hadn’t always been every day. Only since you made the mistake of resonating with this unlikely ally.

“You got injured snowboarding with your colleagues. And I happened to be returning back to the resort when they saw me and pawned you off. Apparently they wanted to do another few rounds with the people they met.”

You frowned. You only vaguely remembered the incident. More so the tree that you had wiped out against. Everything else was a blur. You knew sylus had no reason to lie, so you chose to believe him. It wasn’t like Sylus and your colleagues didn’t know each other to some degree. Sharing a karaoke booth with Sylus was enough time for anyone to develop a trauma bond. It was like war…without the bloodshed. “Doesn't explain where they are now.”

“I used your phone to tell them I’d watch you for the night—ease their minds.”

“How valiant of you,” you ad-libbed.

“I did try to leave after making sure your condition wasn’t critical but you asked me to stay,” Sylus said. “Then you pulled me onto this couch with you and this happened.” He gestured to the link.

You looked away flustered. “Must have slipped my mind.”

“You’re so air-headed, kitten,” Sylus tutted.

The depth of his voice rattled you; made your skin feverish and a sudden flush spread through you. You noted your sudden reaction to his voice as an after effect of your accident. You straightened hoping fixing your posture would disperse the settling arousal. And in some pseudoscientific way, it did.

Mephisto squaking in the corner snapped your mind back to the crow in your dream. “Sylus, can I ask you a question?” you asked. You were being abstract but with this burning question fresh on your mind you didn't care.

“You just did.”

You rolled your eyes but asked anyway: “Do crows have dreams?”

“Is that seriously what you are asking me right now?” he responded.

“I’m being serious.” Your voice remained steady as your head lifted high. “Does Mephisto dream?” you asked motioning with your eyes to the mechanical bird.

Sylus’s gaze followed.

Mephisto lifted his wings in response.

“Whether Mephisto does or doesn’t dream is beyond me. He is a mechanical bird after all. Dreaming isn’t something I programmed into him. If he were to dream, I suppose it would be recounts of recorded data or lines of code,” Sylus said.

Mephisto cawed again.

Sylus looked back at you. “Does that answer your question?”

You shook your head.

He sighed and cocked his head. He didn’t appear too surprised by your lack of satisfaction, more so by your inability to believe hard fact. “Then enlighten me, do you believe doves dream?”

Remembering the dove you had saved a few months back, you nodded. “Yes.”

“So, why would crows be any different?”

“Okay, sorry for not thinking things all the way through, Mr philosophical,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “I was just answering your question, sweetie.”

You yawned.

“You should get back to sleep,” Sylus whispered. “It’s still late for you. And I’d like to be free sometime soon.”

“I can’t,” you said.

His phone buzzed in his hand taking his attention. “Nightmare?”

“Nightmare,” you agreed.

He hummed listlessly as he scrolled through his phone, typing and swiping. “Am I allowed to ask what it was about?”

“It’s nothing really.”

Sighing, Sylus placed down his phone. “You still should rest... Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Oh no, please God no. I’d rather have Mephisto sing to me.” You physically cringed.

Mephisto squawked in protest.

Sylus ignored your dread. “Do you want me to tell you a story then?”

“No.”

He glanced at you. “I thought you quite enjoyed the last one?”

“I don’t know what Kieran and Luke told you a story is, but I think you have it misconstrued.” You wanted to cross your arms but remembered the link binding your arm to his.

“Oh?” He quipped. “It has a beginning, middle, and an end. Perhaps also a little filler to transition from plot point to plot point. That’s a story, sweetie.”

“And the demonstration?” you asked.

“Audience participation.”

“I think you'll find that serves the opposite effect of telling someone a bedtime story.” You recalled the bites that had stained your skin pinks and purples the day after his ‘story.’ Which, much to his enjoyment, resulted in you having to extend your trip as there was no way you could go back to work in that state. Not unless you lied. And as good as you were, you knew no one would believe you had been attacked by a Wanderer.

Not Tara, who was obsessed with the idea of you and Sylus being more than friends ever since she met him. Nor Nero in Data Analysis because he was a bit of a freak when it came to anything concerning Wanderers. So you imagined a lie of that sort wouldn’t slip past him. And if it somehow did, you didn’t want to end up in a heated conversation about the potential mating rituals of Wanderers. Nero’s fascination was weird enough as it was without going anywhere near that topic.

“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” Sylus said.

You had… eventually. And unfortunately, when you had fallen asleep—exhausted from his playful bites, you’d slept the most soundly you had in years. Right in the arms of this criminal. You stomach churned at the memory. A hunter and a wanted mob boss…how unprofessional. “Because you were relentless.”

“Don’t act so innocent. You were actively enjoying our little roleplay. And as I recall you were the one who said I looked like a vampire.”

The tips of your ears burned. You stared up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze.

The empty ceiling stared back at you like a starless night; an endless void…a pit of nothing.

Your wrist tingled with the heat of the link binding you to Sylus. You felt a strange familiarity spreading up your arm. One that followed you out of your dreams. “Sylus…”

“What is it?”

“Do you dream?” you whispered, staring into the darkness. You could hear his quiet contemplation from beside you.

“Not often,” he responded.

“Really?”

“You sound so surprised…” Sylus said. “Dreams aren’t for those without hearts, sweetie.”

“You keep saying that,” you said.

“I keep saying—”

You could feel his stare. Slowly turning your head, you looked at him. “That you have no heart. I don’t believe it. Someone without a heart wouldn’t take care of me when I hit my head and listen to me when I ask them to stay.” You paused. “Okay...hypothetically, what do you dream about?”

He slipped his free arm under your shoulder and pulled you back toward his chest. “Why are you suddenly so curious about my dreams? Is it something to do with this nightmare?”

“No, I just—” you lied. The words fell out of your mouth like vomit.

He chuckled. “I don’t care for dreams because everything I could want I can get. And nightmares—well, you already know that there isn’t much in this universe scarier than me.”

“Must be nice to have the means to buy whatever you want.”

“You clearly don’t know me if you assume everything I want can be bought.”

“Can’t it?” You searched his gaze for some kind of answer, as if by searching those red pools you might see his desire. But instead, it stared right back at you; soft, unwavering, beckoning.

Come to me.

You looked away.

“No,” he said.

You dreamt of laying on the top of a hill dressed in a gown of white silk. You didn’t know how you arrived here, or why you were dressed in such finery. Flowers surrounded you, red-stained daisies and carnations, swaying in the gentle night breeze. You plucked one and held it up to your nose. It smelt of fresh pollen and mint. You hummed in approval, not questioning the oddity, and picked another, and another, till in your arms you held a bundle of red flowers.

You smiled warmly at your beautiful collection. A bundle of love and devotion, picked by you—for you. You decided then that you liked this place. This starless night haven of endless flowers. And thought, if this dream was the place you would be stuck forever then eternity didn’t sound too bad.

Just as the thought passed through your mind something spawned in the bundle. A pomegranate. You’d never seen one spawn from flowers. You didn’t know one could do so. It was so beautiful, however, that you didn’t think to question it.

At the sight, your stomach rumbled. You weren’t hungry until then. Or rather you hadn’t noticed you were hungry until the opportunity to eat arrived. It was like this place had read into your soul and presented you with your desire before you could even desire it. Was this paradise or a paradise lost?

Dropping the flowers, you lifted the pomegranate. With a twist, the ripe fruit split in half in your hand. You’d never seen a pomegranate so easy to split; usually, you would need a knife.

The juice stained your white dress in droplets of blood-like splotches. It dribbled down your hand leaving a sticky trail. You licked the mess off your skin before you picked up some of the fallen seeds—three to be exact—and ate them. They were sweet in your mouth.

Ravenous, you ate another, and then one more. And after that one more.

You only ate six. You knew because, at that moment, a red shackle appeared on your wrist and a hellish scream tore through the air. Your head shot up in wonder, like a prey alarmed by the snap of a twig. In the distance, a volcanic beam of light erupted into the sky. You recognized it by the familiar ache that resonated through you, but you didn’t know why. You shielded your eyes as you watched crimson stars fill the empty sky, covering the expanse in colourful noise, and leaving in its wake a hole in space and time.

Forgetting your flowers and pomegranates, you wiped your hands on your stained white silk dress. You reached up with a single hand toward the tunnel. You didn’t know why you did it. You didn’t understand what this feeling was that you were chasing. You only knew that you longed for it. You needed it like you needed air to breathe and eyes to see. Perhaps this was love?

Crimson shone between the gaps of your fingers, blinding you of anything but the tunnel. It gaped and shrivelled in intervals as if it were alive.

Come to me, said a voice from the tunnel.

Its coo guided you to your feet. But even on the tips of your toes, you were no closer to the heavens than you were before.

Come to me, it said again. It beckoned to you… calling your name. Its voice was clearer, familiar.

You knew that you knew it.

You reached further. Biting the inside of your cheek, your strain began to show on your face. If you reached anymore you were going to fall. But you were so desperate, you didn’t even care. You needed this—needed it.

The hole stretched and a mangled inhuman hand pushed through. Its long-scorched fingers reached out to yours.

Just when your hand was about to touch it, you pulled back. “No,” you said in a moment of hesitation. “I must go home.”

The mangled hand recoiled before shooting forward to grab you.

You evaded it, losing your footing.

Come, it said again. Come to me.

Terror claimed you. It burnt the sky around you from night-to-day and scorched the flowers beneath your bare feet.

Stay with me.

The earth shook.

Losing your footing, you rolled down the hill, tumbling in cartwheels through the bleeding flowers. Daises and carnations filled your mouth. Red paint dyed your dress. You sealed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if it was the earth shaking or just you.

You wished the dream away. You prayed for the familiar darkness. You prayed for ignorance—for the you you lost to knowledge. But most of all, you prayed for the cold.

You awoke in a king-sized bed covered in dark silk sheets. Sylus’ bed, you thought. He must have moved you when it had gotten closer to his time for bed. But Sylus was nowhere to be seen.

You sat up and looked around. The night light beside the bed lit the room showcasing the extravagant dark furniture. The sound of water running through the foggy glass doors to the en-suite bathroom, and the off-key hummed rendition of some jazz he had on loop informed you of Sylus’ location.

“He’s showering,” you whispered to yourself.

Mephisto cawed from where he was perched.

When you stared at him, he lifted his wings and cawed again.

“I don’t speak crow,” you responded.

“And he doesn’t speak human,” Sylus said, closing the door to the bathroom. Steam pulsed off his wet body as he emerged in only a fluffy white towel.

You gulped, closing your legs under the covers. Not that it would do anything for the feelings that arose from the sight of him. Not even disgust could repel your natural desire for someone so physically alluring.

“I thought you were showering,” you said tightly.

Sylus scoffed. “And you were asleep. I guess we were both wrong, kitten.”

You frowned.

Sylus approached the dresser and lifted the hairdryer. Slicking back his hair, he began to dry it with the dryer.

You shuffled to the edge of the bed and held out your hand for the hairdryer. “Let me do that.”

Catching your reflection in the mirror, he turned to you. “What? You want to do this for me?” he asked, switching off the hairdryer. His damp hair fell onto his forehead.

You flicked your hand impatiently. Your eyes actively avoided falling below his collarbones. “I’m trying to be nice… since you didn’t wake me when the link untangled and all. Thank you for that by the way. And sorry I took up your entire night.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re the only person I’d excuse taking up my time. Besides, that’s just common decency, sweetie.”

You blushed and gestured again for the hairdryer. You couldn’t fall for his pretty words. You weren’t that stupid. Halting your thoughts, you cleared your throat and corrected your posture. “Still—I feel like I owe you and this will make us even.”

“Okay, deal.”

You half expected him to counter your statement and ask for more. You wouldn’t have faulted him if he had. You knew what you were suggesting wasn’t an even repayment for the time he lost, but for a man who had everything this was the only thing you could do on the fly.

His tall frame casted a shadow over you as he approached; all damp skin and wet hair. He handed you the wireless hairdryer. And then sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed, he sighed. “I didn’t know all I needed to do to get you to be nice to me was let you sleep.”

You rolled your eyes and shuffled back a little after feeling the heat of his wet body on the inside of your thighs. You tried to keep a small amount of distance not wanting to accidentally touch him. You leaned forward and cursed inaudibly at the difficult angle.

“I don’t know what hair you’re going to be drying from back there,” he cooed. Wrapping his hands around your ankles, he pulled you closer to him.

“Hey!” You yelped, sliding forward till you inner thighs pressed against his wet shoulders.

“That’s better,” he said, letting go.

“You’re crude.”

“I was just making your job easier, kitten,” he purred.

You nudged his shoulder with your thigh and turned on the dryer. Your finger ran through his hair as you watched the water dry out and the soft greyish-white return.

Sylus closed his eyes and leaned his head back till you could see his face.

You paused. “You’re not making this easier for me,” you said, peering down at him.

He chuckled deeply. “I can’t help the fact that you have magic hands, I’ve never been so relaxed.” He lifted his arms and rested them atop your knees like armrests. “Have you ever thought of changing careers?”

You snickered. “Are you sure you’re rich? Surely, you’ve had much better treatment than this.”

Sylus laughed with you. The sound called you broke in every way but with words. It reminded you of aged wine and expensive cuff-links, two things you had never associated with a voice until him.

You turned off the dryer and placed it on the bed.

“Why did you stop?” Sylus opened his eyes. He stared up at you from your lap. And for a man so good at being invulnerable, he looked extremely soft.

“Your hair is dry.”

“So it is.” Sylus lifted his head. “Thank you.”

Mephisto cawed loudly and swooped out of the room. Taking Mephisto’s departure as your sign to escape too, you began to shuffle back,.

“Where are you going?” Sylus wrapped his hands around your ankles once again stopping you.

“Mephisto is gone,” you stated as if the answer was obvious.

“And? He’s a bird, it’s not good for him to stay in one place. You’re not a bird, are you?”

You could see the hurt in his eyes.

“But it’s morning. I have stuff to do. And you should get some sleep,” you said.

“What stuff?” he asked.

You shrugged. You didn’t have many plans—maybe meet up with your colleagues. Not that they were concered about your whereabouts. Your phone hadn’t rung once.

“Since you don’t know, why don’t you stay? Your flight back to Linkon isn’t for a few days yet.” Sylus suggested, letting go of your ankles.

“Stay?”

He stood from the ground and by some will of the gods his towel stayed on. “Yes, stay…with me. It’ll be just us.” He placed his knee on the bed.

Your spine stiffened as you backed away. “I can’t lay around all day.”

“So, it’s okay that I did? Come on, sweetie, that’s not fair. Stay..” He placed his hands on either side of your head, caging you. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You pushed his chest gently—not exerting any real effort. “I dried your hair.” As much as you wanted to leave, you weren’t opposed to being stuck under him. Any sane woman wouldn’t be, especially when he was like this.

He caught your wrists and pinned them to the sheets by either side of your head. “Come on, kitten, we both know that was wasn’t an even deal.”

“What if Tara comes looking for me? Or the rest of my colleagues?” you spluttered.

“They know you’re with me. They won’t disturb,” he purred.

You pursed your lips. You knew he was right. That didn’t mean you wouldn't stop trying. “What about Mephisto? He might—“

“No one is going to disturb us, sweetie,” Sylus interrupted. “Just say you’ll stay. You were restless the entire night.”

“And you’re the one who is restless now,” you retaliated. In the settled silence, you could almost hear the thump of his heart. “Besides, I’m not tired.”

“We can fix that. Come on, sleep with me.”

You gave him an unimpressed side-eye.

“What if I said I wanted to hear a story? Would you tell me one?” he asked. He let go of one of your hands and trailed his fingers down the side of your face. Tucking them under your jaw, he guided you to look at him. His darkened gaze fell between your eyes and lips, dancing caution. Like you were a deer caught in headlights ready to disappear with any sudden movement.

“Why are you suddenly being so clingy?” you asked.

He hummed. “Am I?”

You nodded. “And you’re being too nice.”

“Are you saying I’m crass, miss?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

His eyes narrowed playfully. “Let’s say for your sake that I’ve learnt not to scare an easily startled kitten.”

“How kind…”

With his fingers still under your chin, he guided your head off the sheets, bringing you closer to him. “So, what do you say. It is a simple yes or no…sweetie?” He peered at you through thick eyelashes.

“Why should I?”

“I can hear your heart beating in sync with mine,” he said, bringing you closer.

“You’ve got me pinned to your bed—of course my heart is racing.”

“I can see the desire to stay in your eyes.” He brought you closer.

You scanned his face, barely millimetres away. “Still not good enough,” you said.

He let out a low scoff, looking directly into your eyes. “Because I need you,” he whispered against your lips.

And then he kissed you.

When you closed your eyes, you saw an expanse of dark teal grass dusted with withered, red-stained daisies and carnations. You looked around, first at the red silk dress draped over your body, and then at the tail of mangled dark scales trapping you. Beside you rested the head of the dragon-like creature, protecting you in its slumber. Your eyes traced its surface, taking in its shape and appearance—the long forked tail, wanderer-like body, and large horns. It was like nothing you’d seen before. And yet, you weren’t afraid of it.

You followed its scales with your hand until you reached its face. It stirred beneath your touch. Its deep, unconscious breaths halted as you stared into the giant red eye of the creature. Its pupil slit as it watched you, unmoving, as if waiting for your reaction—the screaming and shouting.

You dropped your hand. You hadn’t meant to wake the beast.

A low grumble reverberated through the creature’s body, one of disapproval.

You crawled slowly toward its face, watching its reaction for any signs to stop.

It stared at you, unblinking.

“Hello there,” you said, stopping beside its high cheekbone and deep crimson eye.

It didn’t respond, continuing to silently observe you.

“Do you have a name?” you asked.

Silence.

A sharp squawk made you look up as a crow flew in circles over the two of you. In the star-sprinkled sky, the crow was a black shadow with beady red eyes passing in flashes. Its speed caused feathers to flutter off its body and cascade down to the ground.

You lifted your hand and watched as a single dark feather landed on your palm. A smile curved on your lips as you admired the large feather, bigger than any crow’s feather you’d seen before—about half the length of your arm. You lifted the feather to the creature.

“For you,” you said to the creature, unsure of whether it could understand you or not. You knew you should have been afraid of the monster. You knew you should have run when you had the chance. But something about it seemed defenseless—tired.

It glanced down, motioning for you to place the feather on the ground.

You put it close to the creature’s jaw. “Where did you come from?”

It didn’t respond.

“What is this place?”

The creature moved its head closer to you, offering its snout.

You placed your hand on the creature’s face. “I suppose you don’t speak human,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a wound oozing thick blood. Your hand moved to it, blocking the hole in its chest.

At the added pressure, the creature grumbled. Slowly, its eyes closed as if to sleep—or perhaps even to die.

“Did you get this whilst protecting me?” you asked. You knew the creature needed healing, or some kind of regeneration. But its core was shattered. Under your fingers, you could only sense how weak it had gotten. It was not strong enough to keep the creature alive, let alone save it.

The creature blinked slowly.

You took that as a yes. “You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t even know me.”

It blinked again, slower this time as you felt its soul slipping from its body.

“I can help you,” you said.

You could help it. It was an ability you had, a one-time bonus that came with having your resonance evol. And you would use it—even if it cost you your power. Even if it bound you to this creature for eternity.

The creature made a sound of disapproval. And with its little strength, it moved away.

You froze so as not to anger it further. Movement was only making the creature’s wound worse.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. Think of it as repayment—common decency, if you will.” You waited for it to move again. When it didn’t, you approached it, lifting your hand. “May I?”

The creature didn’t respond, its breaths deepening.

“Thank you,” you smiled, placing your hand over the wound again. The tips of your fingers glowed as white mist gathered the embers of his evol and molded them with your own before sealing itself in the hole in his chest.

“Don’t close your eyes,” you said, mostly to yourself. “Stay with me.”

Sylus’s hand under your chin brought you back to reality as it moved to rest on the base of your throat, over your chest bone. His other hand, still holding your other wrist, unravelled. Trailing up to your palm, his fingers caressed the smooth skin before he intertwined your fingers with his. He didn’t exert any force. No, he was careful. His body wishing, pleading, begging with yours for something beyond your awareness. Something only your soul could answer.

You could hear it promising you everything…the world, the universe. At the small price of…you. You knew he meant it. You knew this feeling. You’d felt it in your dreams. Or were they visions? Or perhaps memories from a different you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered the mangled inhuman creature and the sweet, damning taste of pomegranate seeds. And you wondered if this was how you would lose your soul—without ever being told it was on the market.

You broke the kiss. Instantly, you missed the minty taste of his lips.

“Was I too rough?” Sylus asked. Dishevelled. Searching.

You had never seen him so disgruntled. Not since he was told you were disgusted by him after you’d met.

You shook your head.

“So, it’s something else then?” Sylus began to pull away. His hand slipped from yours, taking the connection with him.

You wanted to be thankful for your freedom…but it was too late, you already resigned yourself to your feelings.

You missed the heat.

You missed him.

Stay with me.

Was this delirium? Or some kind of Stockholm Syndrome? Loving a creature so twisted—so different from you. One who only wore the skin of a prince to lure in and devour the heart of a princess.

“Sylus,” you said. Sitting up, you caught him around his neck before he could get too far away. And with the strength you had left, you pulled him back to you. And kissed him. Silently telling him that you wanted this—you wanted him.

All of him.

And whatever that choice brought with it.

You knew he wasn’t perfect. In other lives maybe you hadn’t chosen to stay—to remain with him and his promises of grandeur amongst the destruction he sought. Maybe this time you’d chosen the path least trekked with the monster whose intent was only ever written about in the annals of history as that of the slain and evil. Ultimately, you didn’t care. You supposed that thought alone was immoral.

Sylus moaned into the kiss. It was quiet, guttural, and just enough to make you want more. You let him guide you back onto the dark silk sheets, your lips moving together all the while.

“I will,” you said between kisses. “I’ll stay.”

He didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any words either of you could have said.

masterlist

my ao3: Everparanoid

#lnds sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #sylus x you #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #sylus imagine #sylus love and deepspace #sylus fanfic

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nataliasquote · 7 months

Text

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader

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gtgbabie0 · 1 year

Text

‘I love you’

{Spencer can’t sleep without saying I love you, no matter how mad you are with each other}

Hope you enjoy as always my lovelies! 💕

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You both shouldn’t have gotten so mad over such a trivial thing, though you suppose it’s been building up for a while now, the lack of communication, the missed dates and whatnot. In all honesty, you couldn’t even remember why you were initially mad at him and now that you’re laying in bed with a tear-stained pillow beneath you, it seems all so pointless.

Arguments are bound to happen in relationships. Two people aren’t always going to see eye to eye, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. A part of you is expecting him to apologise and the other half of you is trying to come up with an apology yourself, but nothing happens. Spencer stays in the living room to give you some space and you’re left to simmer with your thoughts.

He was late again tonight, it seemed like your schedules did nothing but clash for weeks and the distance was slowly eating at you until you finally snapped. You’d also blame your own work stress for the anger that pinches at your skin, the same anger that only fuelled tonight’s argument.

Spencer hates it, hates the silence that comes afterwards, albeit arguments between you two were few and far between it still had the same effect on him, the odd sinking feeling that hits his stomach.

You both should just apologise and talk about it like adults, but yet you’re both stubborn in your own rights, and so neither of you do. Instead, you fall asleep alone with a heavy heart, and Spencer creeps into the room hours after with an ache in his chest.

He notices the dampness on your pillow from your tears and it only makes that dull ache in his chest hurt all the more, he gently pushes your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he sighs at the tear stains that paint your face, even in sleep you look sad.

You wake up as he climbs into bed, and you make no effort to let him know, in fact, you’re pretty sure he knows you’re awake when he starts drawing patterns on your back with his finger.

You frown softly as you try to figure out what he’s doing. You're about to turn around and complain, and then you feel it. He gently traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin, fingers grazing along your spine. You feel him shuffle closer to you, and his lips press gently onto your shoulder, then the soft words, “I’m sorry” leave his lips, and you can feel the guilt drown you.

You turn around, noticing how the tears in his eyes glisten under the warm light of the lamp and you don’t think twice before reaching out and wiping them away, he sighs at your touch.

“You don’t have to apologise, I blew things way out of proportion” you admit. Spencer shakes his head, noticing how you don’t make eye contact with him, and so he holds your hand, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“You had every right to be mad, and we both blew things way out of proportion” he reasons, not liking the sigh that leaves your lips as if you didn’t believe his words. His eyebrows furrow slightly watching the tears collect in your eyes.

The root of your sudden argument was really because were both so tired and missed each other’s touch, which in retrospect should’ve had the opposite effect of what happened tonight, but emotions are a tricky thing,

So that’s why you don’t pull away when Spencer opens his arms out to you, pulling the blanket over the pair of you as you settle against him. “I’m sorry,” you say, his chin resting gently on top of your head as his hand soothes your back.

He presses a kiss to your hairline as you mumble, “And, I love you too” He smiles when your hands dip underneath his shirt, a desperate need of his warmth, you just needed to feel him.

“I love you more” he smiles, his arms squeezing you just a little tighter against him, tight enough to make you giggle, a sound Spencer swears could cure all of his ills.

There's a silence that drapes over the pair of you, and it's not like before it's different Spencer thinks, much more comfortable as he listens to your breathing.

You look up at him, and he catches onto the exhaustion that stains your face, before you can say anything he's already speaking, "You're tired. Get some sleep and we'll talk tomorrow, over breakfast, yeah?" he smiles leaning down to press one last gentle kiss to your forehead, and you would be lying if you said the idea of breakfast with Spencer didn't make you feel a little giddy.

So you whisper a quiet 'Okay' before drifting off in his arms. and you both make a silent promise to talk about it tomorrow, like adults.

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lqfiles · 5 months

Text

PAY THE PRICE — 3. midnight disturbance

(wc: 1040)

you were drowsy, in a state of almost slumber yet still awake enough to be aware of some senses. for instance, you could feel how cold the room was, your duvet having slipped off your legs and doing little to keep your feet warm.

you could smell the scent of fresh furniture, the place still not having accustomed to your own scent.

you could also somewhat make out the sound of soft background noise in your ear. though, with your eyes still closed and your mind drifting between consciousness and sleep, the sound seemed to slowly drift away, and it became harder to differentiate its realness.

and then you jolted awake.

you jolted up from your bed, clutching onto your blanket as your heart rate had spiked at the loud noise. you were fully awake now, turning your head in all directions in hopes of catching the culprit behind whatever just happened. matter of fact, what did just happen?

slowly, you grew more agitated as your sleep was abruptly disrupted. with your drowsiness slowly wearing off, you frowned and you wondered where the commotion could’ve come from. after a minute or so, silenced filled your room again and you laid back down as your heartbeat slowed.

you took a small breath in before blowing it back out, adjusting your blanket so it covered your frozen body and you snuggled comfortably into your mattress, ready to fall back asleep.

your eyes flew open once again as the sound that was definitely coming from the other side of the wall had returned. with your sleep still not fully back, you heard it much clearer. music. more specifically, a guitar. a very annoyingly loud guitar that was currently being plucked.

your hand had reached for your phone on the nightstand next to you, the numbers displaying that it was already late night hours and it only fuelled your confusion more, because why in the world would someone be playing their guitar in the middle of the night? “it’s too early for this..” you whispered.

you were hopeful and assumed whoever was on the other side of your wall just wanted to check on their guitar strings, and would be considerate enough to stop soon. much to your dismay, that didn’t happen and after 20 minutes of strumming, you assumed that whoever was on the other of your wall cared about anything but being considerate at this hour.

with a grunt, you got up and stood in front of the wall next to your bed. placing your ear against the wall, the music reached your hearing clearer and louder. your hand had reached up, forming into a ball before you knocked on the wall next to you.

the first few knocks went unnoticed, the sound of the guitar overlapping it. your knocks grew more aggressive and louder, almost banging on the wall by this point. this seemed to have an affect as the strumming quietened, leaving a muffled reverb behind.

“thank go-” your whispered before your words were abruptly cut off by the same guitar, picking up its previous tune. “you’re kidding me..” you uttered in disbelief, staring at the wall, perplexed. you had flinched away from the wall at the noise, and your disbelief quickly turned into frustration. without much thought, you turned on your heels and walked out of your room, straight ahead to your front door.

it was probably the lack of sleep as well as the lack of common decency that brought you to the door you assumed belonged to the culprit behind the disturbance. your hand once again reached up, repeatedly knocking on the door in front of you.

the hallway was much colder than your room and you shivered as you stood barefooted there for god knows how long. whoever it was must have heard you, as the guitar playing stopped and it remained silent for a minute. reaching up to knock again, you were taken aback by the door unlocking and slowly opening.

you squinted your eyes as the door opened, and you were met with a dark interior at first before a figure emerged. despite your eyes being halfway closed, you were able to make out the silhouette of a boy who’s upper body peeked from behind the door. blinking a few times, your eyes met with his that seemed just as confused as you were, the frown on his face confirmed your suspicion.

“excuse me, i’m sorry to disturb” you started, your eyes slowly getting used to the lights in the hallway that contrasted your previous dark surroundings. “but.. are you the one playing the guitar so late at night?” you hesitantly asked.

the boy across you nodded as he held an almost bored-like look on his face and you subconsciously looked him up and down. he wore a simple white shirt, and black shorts seemed to peek from behind the door too. his eyes that met yours again were covered by his black rimmed glasses and the last thing you took notice of was the copper brown hair he sported.

if it wasn’t for the fact that he disturbed your sleep, you would’ve focused on how it was pretty cute sight.

“oh, well, i was wondering if you.. can you maybe do that later in the day? i’m kind of trying to sleep right now.” your finger had pointed to the door next to him and he stuck his head out to follow. his expression seemed to change for a second as his brows had furrowed. he looked back and forth between you and your room door.

with his head back inside his place, he gave you a quick up and down look before a small scoff emitted from his lips. he muttered something you were barely able to hear, because he simultaneously closed the door in your face.

you stared at the door in surprise, wondering if that really just happened to you. you were definitely awake by now, your eyes wide open and your jaw ajar. your hand reached up to knock again.

in those 3 minutes you stood outside his door, knocking on his door, he never opened it again. the sound of his guitar didn’t return either, but you couldn’t care much anymore as you felt too annoyed to even return back to sleep.

what a horrible first impression.

previous — master list — next

notes ; first y/nhyuck interaction how cute 🥹

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @aggtslva @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

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jamaisjoons · 2 years

Text

happy hentaiween | m.

Fear is a powerful aphrodisiac, and October is the season of fear. The dark season. The season of desire.

In October, we toy with the semantics of the monster waiting under our bed to claim us. What does it want with us? Will it be delicious? Will we be delicious in the back of its mouth. In October, we consider the curiosity of the alien, and his probing, searching eyes. When he takes us, will will bind ourselves to him, giving life, and liver and womb without question or hesitation? In October, sympathy for the devil and his demons comes easily and as sweetly as a candy apple to the tongue. Does sin have any room to germinate where there is no light? October makes room for spellbinding, for magic, for complete surrender to the monster living deep within the forest. How easily we will spread ourselves, give over to the limits of our bodies just to ache and hunger with wildfire in our blood.

Welcome to A Hentai Halloween! A collaborative event between a set of truly wonderful authors in celebration of all weebs, monster fuckers, and tentacle lovers hosted by yours truly!

notice: all fics contain smut. minors dni.

⟶ AO3 Masterlist

⁂ binding vow

⤑ pairing: king of curses!namjoon x jujutsu sorcerer!reader ⤑ genre: smut ⤑ tropes: dark fantasy. reincarnation. jujutsu kaisen au.

❝ During the Heian Era, long before he was known as the King of Curses, you were Namjoon's lover, only to be parted by death at the hands of a Curse. Now, it's the modern era, and you, a Jujutsu Sorcerer, have been captured by Curses in an offering to the very King you had once loved. ❞

⏤ Category: Hentai ; As Animated by @jamaisjoons

➵ Coming Soon

⁂ tormented

⤑ pairing: researcher!seokjin x monstress!reader ⤑ genre: smut ⤑ tropes: supernatural. native folklore. e2l.

❝ Seokjin has a terrifying memory from his younger days that has easily shaped him into the man he’s become, and fuelled his desire for all accomplishments thus far. Watching your mother be eaten alive by a monster tends to have a lasting, psychological effect like that. Now a full-time Folklorist, with a PhD in Mythology, Masters in Cultural Anthropology, and a time consuming side-hobby as a Supernatural Investigator, his research has led him into the wilderness surrounding the Black Water Lakes, where he’s determined this monster resides in its hidden habitat. Determined to reveal new discoveries to the world, to prove his insanity is anything but, Jin finds himself hot on the trail of something that haunts his inner child, and yet ignites an unusual fire deep inside him. ❞

⏤ Category: Monster Girls ; As Animated by @kookdiaries

➵ Coming Soon

⁂ can’t deny your appetite

⤑ pairing: dream whisperer!yoongi x dream walker!reader ⤑ genre: smut ⤑ tropes: supernatural. e2l. sleep paralysis demon.

❝ In the entirety of your existence as a Dream Walker, traveling through people's dreams and feeding on their subconscious fears, you had only heard tales about the Dream Whisperer – a creature that granted humans erotic dreams, taking them away from the fear that you survived on – and had never actually encountered him. But tonight, when the said monster physically appears between you and your food, you might end up feeding on more than you were prepared for. ❞

⏤ Category: Demons ; As Animated by @jimilter

➵ Coming Soon

⁂ brood mare

⤑ pairing: alien!hoseok x human!Reader ⤑ genre: smut ⤑ tropes: sci fi. alien abduction. alien experimentation.

❝ The ship arrived three days after your birthday, an eerie blot in the sky that grew larger and larger until it sought to outshine the sun. It is the lack of change beyond this that had you, and everyone else around the globe, unsettled but after months of its looming presence you are starting to feel curious about it. You are even comforted by it. Still, there is no change. Except, sometimes in the morning you feel as though you have lost something. And, sometimes in the evening, you feel as though you are waiting for something. And, most times, you are certain there is something standing in the shadows, watching and waiting and departing the moment you try to focus on it. Perhaps there is change: a change in you. A change in the way you want it. And a change in the way you want it to want you back. ❞

⏤ Category: Aliens ; As Animated by @yeoldontknow

➵ Coming Soon

⁂ beware the jabbercock

⤑ pairing: jabberwocky shifter!jimin x ace of hearts!reader ⤑ genre: smut ⤑ tropes: shifters. royalty. alice in wonderland au.

❝ As the Ace of Hearts, you are next in line for the throne after your cousin the Queen of Hearts. Her consort Jack however wants you out of the picture and banishes you to the Wonderland wilderness where the terrifying Jabberwocky lives, a horrifying creature responsible for a slew of card deck townspeople deaths.

Within the mysterious depths of the Wonderland forest you find the Jabberwocky, and as you fall under his spell you realise how he was so easily able to capture and defeat so many of your people. ❞

⏤ Category: Hybrids/Shifters ; As Animated by @opaljm

➵ Coming Soon

⁂ lurking in the dark

⤑ pairing: bogeyman!taehyung x curvy!reader ⤑ genre: smut ⤑ tropes: monsters. s2l. pwp.

❝ Don’t look! It’s best to stay tucked under your covers. Folktales warn against acknowledging him. It only strengthens his power. Yet, he is all you want to think about. ❞

⏤ Category: Monster ; As Animated by @inkedtae

➵ Coming Soon

⁂ fresh out of hell

⤑ pairing: demon monster!jungkook x med student!reader ⤑ genre: angst ∴ smut ⤑ tropes: forbidden love. horror. death race au.

❝ Jungkook was sentenced to life for a crime he didn’t commit. When the opportunity to earn his freedom again presented itself, he went for it. However, just like the victory, his life was snatched by the vile humans that put him in that awful place to begin with.

After rising from the grave, Jungkook has one mission. Take what’s rightfully his along with what his worst enemy loves the most. Although, the latter might be easier to grab than the former. ❞

⏤ Category: Demons ; As Animated by @sugakookitty

➵ Coming Soon

The shadows grow long in October, a bottomless black that swallows everything it touches. Trepidation comes easily, lurks behind every corner, watching and waiting, a feeling you cannot shake. And lust has never been shaken from the binds of our bones, it lurks, it watches it waits. What was once a friendly, well-lit street becomes an endless expanse of bleak possibility. What was once a friendly fable becomes a warning, a promise, an ode to regret and an ode to an unexpected metamorphosis. Desire transmutes the street corner your old neighbour once occupied, full now with difference, with longing, with a yearning close to obsession the moment a charming, new face stands at its threshold. The air tastes different in October, ripe with unexplained cravings.

We were taught never to speak about the dark desires that remain unsatisfied when the sun is out. But in October, when the moon is high, and the darkness is alive, we've decided to tell you everything we've ever wanted.

And none of us will be the same when we are done.

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muffinsin · 4 months

Note

hiii,, could you possibly write something for how the G!P Dimi sisters would react to their female s/o wanting to cockwarm them while they sleep?

like how they’d initially react to the question then how they’d act while they sleep in that situation?

Hi hon! :) This feels vaguely familiar👀; I think I’ve done HCs like these at one point, but I can’t remember whether this is true or not!🙌

Masterlists

Bela

She is- for the lack of a better word- less of a horndog than her sisters

Less fuelled by sexual tension and arousal at nearly all times of the day, she actually isn’t the one to bring up cockwarming at night

She’s rather surprised when you bring up that term the first time, even

Never has she heard of such a thing, though she chuckles at the name

Quite fitting, indeed, as she thinks of your warm, wet walls wrapped around her

Keeping her warm, indeed

Due to her lack of knowledge as it comes to this, she probably wouldn’t have been able to ask for it, as she had no idea it was even a thing

When you approach her about it, she agrees

She sees no harm in it, though no gain, either

However, the first time the two of you try it out, she senses the appeal of it nearly instantly

And really? It turns out it’s less of a sexual thing between the two of you and rather a gesture of comfort and affection

Not that she doesn’t relish the sounds of your whimpers when made to cockwarm her while she works, of course~

A rare game the two of you indulge in when her work is not all that important and piling up

The first time the two of you indulge in cockwarming, is when you’re both on her bed, her body laid on top of yours, her chest rising slightly with every breath she takes

You were both spent, your bodies tired after countless orgasms

As she musters up the strength to move, she is ready to continue the small routine you’ve set up after sex

When she is about to slip out of you though, your legs lock around her. A single plea falls from your lips

“Don’t. Stay in”

She, of course, grants you this

How could she not, after all?

The warmth, the softness, the comfort, the love, how can she not indulge in this?

The warmth shared between the two of you is comforting, loving

The two of you find this immensely enjoyable, instantly

And these days, you often opt for cuddles while she is still buried in you, and neither of you would have it any other way

She only slips out when in a rush, otherwise often tries to stay in for as long as possible, until the two of you are satisfied or grow bored of laying about

Then, though, a new variant of this is brought up and tried by the two of you: cockwarming while being asleep

This time again, you are the one asking her about it

While initially being surprised when you ask her out of the blue, she accepts your proposal again

After all, she might end up liking it a lot. And she has nothing to lose at all. She enjoys experimenting with you

Like during cuddle sessions, you two like to cockwarm right after sex, when you exhaust yourself and are ready to cuddle up and sleep

Often, you have a round or two before bed

Sometimes just for the fun of it, other times to help her release tension after her long day

Whatever the reason, you both enjoy it immensely, and it helps both of you relieve some stress

And after, when you’re both sufficiently tired out, she merely doesn’t slip out

Instead she pushes herself back inside fully, a breathy sigh passing plump lips, moans and shivers serving as your reaction

She pulls the blanket covers over the two of you and wraps her arms around you

Together, you sleep safe and sound, warm from the inside and outside

You enjoy the feeling of her inside of you

In a way, it helps you feel her as close as she can be. No clothing separating you, either

You feel her fully inside, filling you to the brim

And it’s a wonderful feeling

Bela, on the other hand, feels incredibly comfortable

Warmth surrounding her, your soft pussy essentially cupping her pulsing, sensitive cock; is there anything better on this earth? She wouldn’t bet on it

In the morning, it’s not uncommon for at least one of you to be in the mood again due to her position inside of you

So really; your mornings start out just perfectly ;)

Cassandra

Cockwarming- Cassandra is certainly familiar with the subject and practice of it

Alas, she doesn’t understand the appeal of it most of the time

Sure, she will stay inside of you for a few extra minutes sometime, but she’s by far more interested in moving than staying still

When you bring up the idea of cockwarming her as she sleeps, she still doesn’t understand

Why do such a thing? Especially so when she’s asleep?

Despite her confusion, she grants you your request. Why not, after all?

So, the next time you’re intimate together, she opts for staying inside of you instead

Only that she doesn’t feel tired, as she realises moments after

Instead, she goes on about her hunt again, fuelled by the energy you gave to her

You don’t mind, though. The more she exhausts herself, the sooner she will be tired, you figure

And she is, so that you smile to yourself when your lover falls onto the bed, right next to you

With her face smudged against pillows, you barely make out her muffled groans and hums

You try not to let your mind wander, really

You try to make it less obvious how badly you want her, how badly you want to try this with her

Alas, you fail at both, and she snickers tiredly to herself, mumbling something about how wet you must be, and that you smell strongly of arousal

Your cheeks burn, and again, she giggles to herself

Then, however, it’s her turn to gasp and feel flustered, when your wandering hands find the hem of her dress and pull it up quickly

Her head lifts from the pillows when you tug down her underwear in one go

Now it’s you who smells her arousal and sees her clear as day

Your eyes immediately find the swell of her thick ass, the curves and roundness of her cheeks, the pale, surprisingly soft skin

Then, strong thighs, a mix of thickness and strength

And between them, laid upon the bed, her cock

You lick your lips. Yes, you never grow tired of this sight

She shrieks when you push her head back down on the covers. She knows the silent request, perhaps even a command, given to her

She is to sleep, safe and sound, to give you all control you want in this moment, to do as you wish

And she knows fully well what that is, too

You wait for a little, scratch her back and scalp lovingly as you notice her eyes get heavier, her posture relax and her body melt against the bed

She becomes more and more tired, until, at last, her eyes slip shut

After a few minutes, you get to work, and as you undress as well, you find your arousal and excitement growing

Cassandra, ever the heavy sleeper, doesn’t awaken when you move her, when you undress her fully and turn her on her back, even when you spread her legs

And, to your slight surprise, she doesn’t even wake up when your warm fingers wrap around her thick cock

She stirs, then moans, when you allow some of your spit to drool down to her tip

And, using spit and your own wetness, it’s easy to slip her inside of you

She doesn’t awaken all night, sleeps through it all, though both of you feel the effects of your activity

You get more and more desperate to get off, more and more eager to have her cock move in and out of you

Cassandra moans more and more in her sleep, too

And even when you eventually fall asleep, these effects persist

This way, you awaken to a nearly brutally paced pounding, her hard, aching dick shoved deep inside of you and hitting the back of your womb with every thrust

She’s desperate, horny, feral, more than you’ve ever seen her

And you don’t mind in the slightest

Instead, you allow yourself to bask in the pleasure she gives you with every little move, as well as the slight pain caused by the thickness of her cock

You smirk to yourself, hours after

You should do this more often

Daniela

Many believe Daniela is irresistible. A siren, a seductress, a beautiful devil

They’re not entirely wrong

After all, you feel pulled in by her in every moment. You feel, and want, her. She seduces you effortlessly

And when you do take her? Ah, what a sweet reward awaits you then

Her little whimpers, her moans, her gasps and groans when you toy with her cock

Daniela is tempting you, always. But, recently so, you’ve been especially curious about trying out a new- to the two of you- type of cockwarming

While she is certainly familiar with it, this version of it will be new for both of you

When you bring it up, she immediately whines pitifully. You smirk back at her

Yes, she remembers, good

She remembers the countless times cockwarming was used as a punishment for her brattiness, when she was granted only what you gave her, when she could not even thrust into you, but was made to stay still and feel you around her for hours at a time, often

You coo at the sight

Again, you ask her what she thinks of the idea

And while she speaks of punishments and how unfair this and that is, how badly she wants to thrust into you in such times, her body is revealing an entirely more telling story

You smirk. You no longer listen to her words, only watch as her dress bulges. The poor thing is unable to hide how much the thought excites her

Daniela gasps when you reach out and cup her through her clothing

With her face bright pink, you see that you’ve won

She accepts your request eagerly, the last bits of her patience and whining gone

You knew she’d agree, really, ever the experimentalist in bed. Still, her vocal agreement to this means a lot to you

You start immediately the night after

To toy with her all day long, make her cum over and over again, more often than your precious little brat can handle

But, it works well

You successfully tire her out until the evening, so that her heavy eyes slip close practically the moment she hits the comfortable mattress

You coo; both of you know you are far from done

She blushes sweetly as you undress her. First, her perky breasts and sensitive nipples are revealed to you. She gasps when you tug and twist them lightly, and you giggle to yourself when it causes her leaking cock to twitch against the panties restraining it

Of course, these must go, too

She squeaks in surprise when you turn her around, when you fondle her full ass. Cute dimples, hips dips, round cheeks and soft skin greet you

As you turn her and pull down her panties, Daniela moans tiredly

Her eyes can barely stay open

Then, you chuckle again. You feel her twitching, yet see she is about to pass out and fall into a deep slumber

The last thing she sees is your fingertip sliding across her tip and your hand cupping her balls

You smile eagerly just as her breath evens and she sleeps at last

She’s even more precious this way, you feel

It takes practically nothing to slip her inside of you, with her tip leaking and her cock covered in your wetness from your pussy

When you do, she moans and whimpers in her sleep again

She gasps and groans, moans and whines even as she’s fast asleep

In time, this all only increases

She moans louder the longer she’s in you, squirms even

You feel her leak, feel her throb and ache within you

When you begin teasing her breasts and sucking at her neck, the poor thing whimpers and moans softly, so much so you’re certain you can bring her to an orgasm while asleep

But, you don’t grant her this

You want her to cockwarm, want to feel her sore and sensitive cock in you, want to reward her for this in the morning

And so you do, when she wakes up begging, pleading, whimpering for sweet release

And really? You could almost pity her, when tears fall down her soft, deep pink cheeks as a result of her overwhelming orgasm, when her cheeks burn, when she is too shy to meet your eyes even because she cums within a few minutes of having you touch her

Of course, when she is in such a sensitive and needy state, you’re more than eager to drag more from her

You learn; cockwarming throughout the night really pumps up her sensitivity levels to a maximum

You smile as you memorise this

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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tkaulitzlvr · 11 months

Note

loved your new fic :) was wondering if you could possibly make a part two of it that would just be the morning after with lots of fluff n cute stuff as they just got back together?

obviously it’s absolutely your choice & there is no rush at all <3

SORRY (2) - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: for the first time in over a month, you wake up beside tom. at first, you are unsure of what to make of the situation, tom quick to reassure you.

content: fluff

a/n: thanku so much!! part 2 to this - i feel like i hardly write fluff and all my page is smut (it gets a little boring sometimes) so decided to write this req to compensate for the lack of fluff i post. this is something a little short, but hope u enjoy!! 💞

warmth. the first thing i am able to register when my body begins to stir, eyes fluttering open and shut on the verge of consciousness is the heat that envelops my skin. the feeling is foreign, almost new to me, though somewhere within the haze i find the familiarity of it all, gaze slowly falling downward to find a pair of arms wrapped securely around my waist, the person who they belong to also just as close, soft breathing tickling the skin of my neck as his head rests beside it. i probably would pay little attention to the increase in temperature as i wake, if i hadn’t done so alone the past month, usually greeted with the harsh realisation that tom wasn’t mine anymore - until now.

but i don’t feel secure, nor happy, that i wake up beside the man that i love, as i had thought i would if the day ever came that i managed to get him back. instead, i feel strangely out of place, thousands of questions circling my mind as this situation leaves me more confused than ever. sure, i remember the night we shared, the passion, the raw emotion - it is one that cannot be mistaken for anything but truth, because if tom was lying about what he had told me, then god, he’s a pretty fucking good actor. hell, even i couldn’t brush his words aside ‘they weren’t you’. how could i? he had told me exactly what i wanted to hear, and yet i lay here, not as ecstatic as i should be, my heart failing to burst with joy at the sudden confession that he still loves me. he knows that he leads me blindly, his words sweet as honey, meaningful as gospel, igniting the dull flame within me whether they were true or not - i am far too devoted to consider their credibility.

tom however, clearly isn’t overthinking half as much as i am. his mouth agape, obnoxiously loud snores escaping from it, his body tangled within the sheets and my own - he probably wouldn’t notice if a burglary happened right next to him. hesitant to wake him, the idea of facing the awkwardness that will arise from whatever happened last night makes my stomach churn with utter dread. so i lay silently, eyes fixed to the ceiling, looking for any distraction from my wondering mind, though the quiet doesn’t help, fuelling the ‘what if’s’ that continue to give me nothing but a massive headache, eager for the remedy that is his consolation.

the secure grip around my waist begins to tighten, too much for it to be accidental. silently praying that he is just stirring in his sleep, my body stays still, head betraying my mind as it slowly turns to face him, only to be met with his own eyes fluttering open, a low groan leaving his lips as he stretches out.

“morning leibe.” he states so nonchalantly it is almost like we had never broken up, his lips nearing my own as they attempt to pull me into a kiss. i turn my head, slightly hesitant to melt into his embrace, unsure of what we are right now, the questions in my mind far too important to be ignored, even when his lips are so close to mine, soft and pink, almost gravitating me toward them against my will.

his eyebrows furrow at my rejection, arms slowly moving away from my waist, instead resting a gentle hand against my hip as he speaks. “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

my heart breaks, tugging at the strings at his confusion. honestly, he hadn’t done anything wrong - not right now anyway. i don’t know what we are, and that thought scares me, more than he realises at first glance. i have always been this way, liking answers to be clear, on paper, with zero doubt of them being interpreted differently. so this situation is a nightmare come true, tom’s intentions, though seemingly clear last night, still a hazy blur amidst the thoughts piling in my mind. and i hate leaving him in the dark, though he is unconsciously doing the same to me right now. but i know that it isn’t fair to shut him out as i always do, deciding to speaking my feelings, whether things end well or not.

“i just- i don’t know what we are. did you want me for a quick fuck last night, or-”

“you really think i want you for a quick fuck?” he asks, voice low and soft, lacking any anger within it as i had expected. instead, he remains calm, hands tentatively reaching upward to cup my cheeks, my entire face resting within his heavy palms. his thumb slowly strokes the skin next to my lips, face inches away from my own as the soft breaths escaping his mouth fan against my cheeks.

my silence speaks volumes - letting him know how confusing this whole thing is to me, though it seems the lack of clarity is clearly one sided: tom’s brows furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed as his mouth parts, little sound escaping from it. but my silence, whilst surprising to him, is equally precious, because it buys him time to continue. his hold on me strong, yet his words slow and soft as they pour from his lips turn out to be the most beautiful - and somehow reassuring, contrast imaginable, especially when in this moment, i desperately clutch onto any comfort that he shows. and, luckily for me, he intends to remind me that my worries are mere delusions - his confession music to my ears.

“schatz…c’mon, you know you’re more than that to me.” he seems at a loss for words, tongue swiping nervously across his bottom lip between words, knocking the small metal ring that adorns it to the side, playing with it in an irregular motion, his eyes just as skittish.

silence indulges the room as he awaits my response, his eyes scanning my expression almost desperately, the same way i had looked at him moments ago, the roles reversing far quicker than i had expected. he is waiting on me, seeking my reassurance, his statement coming out as more of a question, though it seems directed to the both of us. he is asking himself the same thing - soon realising that he is equally as keen to receive consolation as i am.

“i don’t know it’s just- weird, i guess? i’m not over it. i tried to act like i was, but look where i ended up, at some shitty club with a random guy at my hip.” each words that falls from my lips becomes harder to say, soon realising that this is the first time i have spoken about how i truly feel after we parted. feelings change, people move on and time continues to run its course, but none of that had happened, my soul just as empty as it had been the second he left. my expression mirrors my emotions, tears soon building around the brim of my eyes, threatening to spill from them with another word. but i take that chance, knowing that i am in far too deep to keep anything left unsaid - especially when he is here, and i have him listening, really taking in my words, instead of brushing them off as he did before. “and i can’t go through having my heart broken again. once was enough, don’t break my heart again, please.”

“baby…” he trails off, his arms wrapping tightly around my trembling frame, body following as it presses against mine, soothing me in the way i wanted, no, needed. truthfully, my confession couldn’t be taken as a complete surprise. i know it, and tom knows it too, his brief silence proving that he wants to try, the small circles trailed along my back temporarily taking away the pain, giving him the time to think about what he is saying, to properly consider his choice of words, rather than spewing out anything that will console me.

a minute passes, heavy breaths escaping from my lips, masked within the small sobs soon mixing into the soft air until they eventually turn into silence, my eyes soon drying, thin red lines stretched across the sea of white surrounding my irises, in place of the saltiness of my tears. it is at that moment when his face appears from my shoulder where it had once been resting, lips nearing my cheeks as they slowly, oh so slowly, begin kissing away the remnants of dried tears, gently making any evidence of my sorrow disappear, replacing them with the tender consolation of his company, though now it is beyond that - his kisses show far more than the reminder that he is here with me, they show that his love is there too, far stronger than his presence alone.

“i love you. i love you so much. never doubt that for a second. when you think you’ve lost everything, you’ll never lose my love for you. i could live a thousand lifetimes, and it would still be you.” it is clear that he means it this time, but if his words themselves hadn’t made that obvious, then the kiss that he places onto my lips afterward reaffirms their truth, compelling me to kiss back as soon as i am able to process the feeling of his lips, soft and pillowy, on my own.

this is love. not two people pretending to show affection, blinded by lust over true passion. because before tom, i realise that i had no knowledge of the word. the way his lips move slowly against mine, no sexual intent behind the kiss, drives me further and further into the abyss that is his love, devoted to him whether it is good for me or not. i am far too blind to be able to distinguish between right or wrong, my heart and soul in total agreement that he is the one, regardless of the fact that moments ago, i was unsure. all it takes is his reassurance, his lips on my own, to understand that nobody else is capable of making me feel this way.

seconds feel like hours, the entire concept of time slipping away as i latch onto him, lips becoming pink and swollen as they collide messily, unable to part despite the feeling of breathless that soon takes over. it didn’t matter, none of it did, because tom is my oxygen, and as long as i am able to feel his soft lips on my own, nothing else seems important. moments like these are unable to be recreated, heat rising between us, yet the distance only decreases, until my body is on top of his, tangled within the sheets, kisses soft despite the strong hold he maintains on my hips.

even when our lips separate, our foreheads remain rested against each other’s, content smiles spread across our faces, nothing needing to be said as our expressions sum everything up. his hand moves upward, running softly through my hair, removing loose strands that had found their way onto my face, tucking them slowly behind my ear. for the first time, i am not worried. i don’t waste a second considering ‘what if…’ or ‘what about…’, because it doesn’t matter to me, and once a peaceful silence envelops the both of us, it quickly becomes real, all of it - from the soft kisses, to the sincere confessions: love, there are countless ways to display it, but nobody seemed to get it right, until tom.

his fingers jab playfully into my sides, disturbing the peaceful moment, though it doesn’t alter my mood, a wider smile spreading across my face as i squirm above him, hitting his chest whilst small giggles leave my lips. in one swift motion, he manages to flip us over, somehow dragging the covers over the both of us in the process, his body now on top of my own. the same smile that fails to falter on my own face now spreads across his, though it doesn’t last as long, his mouth opening to speak whilst his hands run up and down my waist rhythmically.

“how does breakfast sound? whatever you like.” he lifts up, moving off of me and to the side, bringing my body closer to him, his arms snaking around my waist comfortingly, lips placing a quick kiss onto my forehead. “let me take you out today. shopping maybe? or what about that pizza place you like?”

“hm, i’ll take you up on breakfast. but can we stay here today? i’m tired, and i forgot how comfy your bed is.” i chuckle quietly, allowing the soft sheets to envelop me further, consequently snuggling closer into tom’s embrace, his body accepting my proximity as he wraps his arms tighter around me.

he laughs lowly at my words, nodding slowly against me, his head tilting to the side as his lips plant a firm kiss into my hair. “sure, anything you want schatz.” i smile contently at his response, sighing softly in relief, closing my eyes at the feeling of peace that soon takes over, careful not to take any of it for granted, relishing every second that i remain within his arms.

and he sticks to his promise. our bodies remain tangled together, wrapped up within the sheets until the familiar blend of oranges and pinks leak through a small gap in the curtains, casting its light throughout the room, somehow highlighting tom’s features in the most beautiful way possible, from the soft pools of brown that are his eyes, to his skin, so smooth it resembles silk itself, the golden rays melting onto his lips, still a light shade of red, decorated with the small metal ring that i have seen so many times. it is perfect: sharing ‘quick’ kisses - though they never ended that way, tom insisting on deepening them until we had to pull away, warm and breathless, meaningless conversations, soft laughter sounding throughout the room, filling the thick air with a reminder of our love for each other. the day ends the same way that it had began, my legs tangled within tom’s, arm draped lazily across his chest, his fingers running soothingly up and down my waist, lips planting quick kisses wherever they are able to gain access to. and, like clockwork, those lips utter the same words they had just hours ago, with the same truthfulness behind them as the first time they had been spoken, only this time, i am certain that he means it.

“i love you, schatz.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #bill kaulitz

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nocturnesanomaly · 5 days

Text

Chapter 7: Keep watching the skies

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 7: Keep watching the skies

Wordcount: 6.4k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, Implied sexual assault/rape, non-consensual drug use,

Description: You follow up on your own lead, convinced it's the only way, leading the rest of the 141 on a hunt to find you.

A/N: Not sure I got all the typos, let me know if you find any <3

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

If Price was ever going to grant any of their wishes, Johnny prayed to the lord that it would be to get better beds. Even if he and the taskforce had slept in worse places than this, on the ground in half fallen buildings, in bundles of hay or random items, it didn't keep Johnny from being grumpy about the lack of space and stiff mattresses.

He wasn't sure why Laswell hadn't accounted for the one missing bed. Sometimes he thought that she expected one of them to take the janky couch, but she couldn't really, could she? It was what Simon did most nights, or at least Johnny was pretty sure he did. He typically didn't come into the room during nights, letting Johnny snore away on the little space there already was. Then again, that man never truly slept much on missions.

Simon got the optimal amount of sleep he needed to function for a day, and not a second longer. It was a habit that was hard to coax him out of when he and Johnny went back home. When they had first bought an apartment together, it even took a few weeks before Johnny managed to get Simon into a somewhat normal sleep rhythm.

One thing he found that worked, was letting Simon listen to his heartbeat. It seemed to calm the man for whatever reason. Johnny supposed he understood, it was something consistent, a lifeline in the most literal sense. It assured someone that the other was still alive, that their heart was still beating and their lungs still breathing.

They had both spend a lot of long nights like that. Nights after missions with too close calls, nights fuelled with terrors and horrid images on their minds, nights where it was as simple as the fact that one of them couldn't fall asleep.

Johnny didn't know when Simon had moved from the couch to laying on top of him and squeezing half the air out of his lungs, but he was sure woken up by it. The first rays of the morning sun peeked through the blinds of the window, and highlighted the dust particles floating around in the room.

Simon was a steady weight on top of him. His breathing the only thing inconsistent from his otherwise still form. He reached out, smoothing his hands over the muscles of Simon's back, feeling him sigh further into his hold.

He was still awake then.

"Mornin' wee lad," Johnny whispered teasingly into Simon's ear, conveniently placed right next to him from how he was hiding his face in his neck.

Simon grumbled something unintelligible against Johnny's skin. "Shut it MacTavish..." was about the only thing he could make out of it. It was enough to incite a round of his personal infectious laughter.

The sheets were jumbled between both of their legs, creating an odd display of tangled limbs probably resembling some deformed eldritch horror from an outsider’s perspective.

"Didn't think ye would actually join me...thought ye didn't want affection when spider's around," Johnny mumbles cheekily yet still pulls the massive man even closer. He closes his eyes again, enjoying the weight on his chest, the comforting assurance he'd been craving for all too long.

"They're not here..."

Groggily, Johnny opens his eyes again to catch a peek of the other bed. Surely enough there was no form occupying it, the bed made with military precision. "Mh...got an early start then..." a way too early start even for his own standard.

"They barely sleep..." Simon grumbles and let's out a long huff, resigning to the fact he isn't falling back asleep anytime soon.

"Ye alright love...?" Johnny reaches up to rub his hand through Simon's short hair. A rare occasion for him to take off his mask, even here. Johnny would enjoy every second of it. With gentle movements he guides Simon's head a bit further up so he can place soft kisses to his face. Over his scars, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

Simon let's out a sigh, lazily kissing him back. "M'fine...jus' exhausted," he did sound it.

Johnny nods quietly, pressing another kiss to his forehead. It had been a long time since they'd taken time just for themselves, their apartment was practically just sitting back collecting dust from how little they managed to actually use it.

"We should take a vacation when we're done here," Johnny suggests.

Simon doesn't get any time to reply before the door is thrown open. Johnny shoots an arm over his shoulders, to shield his face with his arm just in case. The both of them relax seeing Kyle's face linger in the doorway, he looked around the room settling on the two in a pile with a sigh.

"Would you two lovebirds get a move on," Kyle huffs and crosses his arms.

Johnny groans dramatically, making a show of how exhausting Kyle's request really is. "You could always just join us Garrick," he suggests instead, wiggling his eyebrows long enough to make both men groan.

"I'm good," Kyle shakes his head but can hardly hide the smile on his face, "any of you seen Spider? We can't find 'em."

"The fuck do ye mean ye can't find 'em, they can't have gotten that far out," Johnny paces around in the kitchen. His usual energy spiking at the odd occurrence of an unpredictable event. The facts were staring him the face. You were nowhere in the house, nowhere around the house, told nobody and left no note. You were just gone.

You wouldn't just have run away, would you?

He looks over at Simon. He'd put his mask back on, his eyes closed behind it. He still seemed half asleep, nursing a cup of hot tea in his hands.

"They could have gone to town, taking a look around and forgot to tell anyone?" Kyle throws one option on the table. He'd prepared breakfast for himself, sitting opposite of Simon munching down on it.

"We need tae go find them," Johnny says and rubs his nose. There's something uneasy settling in his system, not knowing where you are, what you were up to. He was sure you were capable, that you knew what you were doing, but you had told no one. Even if you were fine, there had to be some stern talk to make sure you wouldn't pull a stunt like this again. Not even Price was liking this at all.

And speaking of Price. Johnny's attention sharpens when the captain comes back into the kitchen. "Laswell heard nothing either, but she mentioned they talked of the mountains" Price shakes his head lightly. "They likely went for them, but we have the town to look into as well."

"We'll split up, cover more ground, they are likely fine on their own but I’d like to have a talk with them so bring them back. Ghost, Soap you take the surrounding area, follow the trail towards the foot of the mountains. Me and Gaz will take a visit to the town, sniff around and see what else we can figure out about this community."

Simon is already on the move, abandoning his still steaming tea at the table. Johnny is hot on his heels, refusing to let him go and make some stupid choice in the heat of it. He still didn't fully understand it. The lingering connection between the two of you, but he knew that it was important. He wasn't going to let him down.

"Listen up My Angel, this is one our newest members. My very own brother, Graham," The Father introduces you to the buffer man standing in front of you. He's taller than him, keeps a short buzzcut you've come to expect from anybody here. It didn't take long before it was enforced on both the men and women, didn't matter what anybody said to it.

The collective has grown significantly and fast. Michael even insisted on being called The Father. You didn't quite understand why. He never explained himself, merely enforced it like he enforced the haircuts. You guessed it was to keep a resemblance between him and God, but you found it more creepy than holy.

His connections expanded a lot more over a very short time. People from far and wide was informed about what you all did here, and they travelled all the way to join you. It was a great feeling. You quickly received a lot more responsibilities for the younger sheep, but you found a lot of the exercises were more cathartic than anything.

"It's good to meet you," Graham speaks your name with a cold indifference. He wasn't very interested in anything that wasn't his brother. He crossed his arms over his chest, looked expectantly at The Father.

You're distracted. That much is obvious to both men on either side of you. Despite doing your best to keep your focus, you keep drifting towards different thoughts. Your gaze continuously looking towards the gate where the mail picked up from town would usually come through.

It's been several weeks, almost two months.

Simon still hasn't answered you.

You felt The Fathers hand gently push against your back, guiding you forward. "Graham trains more unorthodox K9's," he explains while making sure to place you between the both of them, "he specialized in dogs and wolves before he transferred here."

"Don't oversell it Michael," Graham grumbles. He looks off to the side, observing the newer recruits running drills around a makeshift obstacle course.

The Father clears his throat. In all the time you've known him, you've never seen him even close to nervous. "Point remaining...he's going to...train you...afterwards you're going to help him train up the rest," he sounds as if he isn't sure. The final details not yet decided.

Your eyebrows furrow at that. You already have the formal training; you're learning rapidly from shadowing The Father and you don't think you're doing half bad. Still, you needed more training? What else did you have to learn?

"Don't worry your pretty head angel," his hand finds a firm grip on the back on your neck, "just be good, follow orders and everything will turn out just fine."

"Good, again."

Your head was spinning from the pain. He'd had you going for hours at a time, didn't let you stop till you lost consciousness. Your thighs ached, your heart pounding out of your chest. The objective was simple. Shoot the targets he'd set up.

You'd finally completed a full round, and Graham's expression hadn't even changed a bit. He didn't care.

It's not like he was making it any easier on you. Whatever medicine he'd shot into your blood at the start was starting to make your head throb. You could still see the broken glass of the syringe laying amidst the sand and dirt. It glinted in the lowering sunlight.

The wooden targets were starting to get this bad habit of taking form, of looking more and more like moving people. People with angry faces, people with hurtful words, people with guns and ill intent. Around them the shadows crept, licking up against the figures and swallowing them hole. You weren't given much time to question as you were flung through the obstacle course another time.

In the beginning he put on a song on a speaker. An older one, slow and rather beautiful, a love song you think.

It's been on loop ever since. He seems obsessed with it, humming along with the tune for the hundred time as you run through the course. You hit your targets with a shake in your arm, making you miss a few a couple of times. It staggers your progress, and it's like you can feel his displeased look in the back of your neck.

You keep going, shooting at the shadowy figures that remain stationary. He's not saying anything you don't think, but still, you can hear his comments in your ears.

Do better

You're better than this

Wrong

Follow my orders

You miss the last target, by a stroke of bad luck. The ground comes closer all too rapidly when your body decides to give out. It refused to remain standing, to continue the strain that could no longer be received properly.

You heave for air, your grip on the gun all too lose. It falls to the ground and you just manage to push it out of the way before you collapse all the way onto your back. The air is too warm for this, your body already drenched in sweat.

He comes to hover above you.

You don't have time to squirm away.

Graham pulls up your shirt, takes his knife and adds another cut next to the other five. Your scream falls on deaf ears. He was ruthless in his violence. He knew exactly where to cut, knew exactly how deep to make it so you'd lose blood without dying. He timed the seconds in your blood loss, he kept an obsessive eye on your movements, your expressions, until he knew your tells better than you did.

He was lethally precise.

Graham hauls you back up to your feet, shoving the gun back in your hand and turns you back to the obstacle course.

"Cull the herd."

Somewhere along the way, the vials became less mandatory. Mr. Graham stopped forcing them on you one random night. It should've relieved you, no longer being woken up before you normally did with violent movements and a syringe pressed into your skin, but the abrupt change dysregulates you.

You still didn't sleep easy, expecting to be unnaturally woken up by either Mr. Graham or The Father with whatever they had decided they needed from you. Not having the altering substance in your system started feeling weird. You began to crave it again, the precision you had with it, the strength and clearness in your mind. You missed how clearly your targets would be highlighted for you.

So, you started injecting it on your own.

Mr. Graham never objected to it. He supplied you whenever you were low with nothing more than a knowing smile and a strong hand on your shoulder. Whether he ever regretted it, he never told you, but he did notice the change in your mental state. The rapid decline like falling down a ladder, you'd grab unto it, try to save yourself, only for it throw you off once again.

At first, he didn't mind it, even gave you an extra length of patience whenever you'd start to space out outside of fighting, or when you'd take longer to process his words when things were too calm for you.

But then you started to get snappy, too eager for the fight your body ached for.

You hadn't even realized it was the wrong thing before you had done it. Maybe the day had been too long, maybe you were overworked, too tired. It didn't matter, it was you that fired the shot. You had taken the injection earlier than usual, double the dose so it would last until training.

As always, Mr. Graham had met you on the field but he wasn't alone this time. The Father, being ever so gracious, decided to observe you both this time. You had stood dutifully next to Mr. Graham, your head bowed, posture straight, your mind a strange mix of muddy and sharp. Shadows crept at the corner of your vision, making you twitch.

You felt unsteady. Your trigger finger twitching with an odd need to hunt, to expel the uncomfortable energy swirling in you, an energy that needed to be used. All the excess adrenaline seemed to even be noticed by The Father.

"Are you alright, My Angel?"

Mr. Graham gives you a look that's hard to discern. Like he's trying to figure out where on the scale you are from collapsing and going rabid. He gets his answer in the worst way he'd have wanted it.

Something too real moves in your vision, rounding the corner of a building. A small shadowed figure, too stark in the contrast of the white wall. It smiled cruelly, moved erratically and it triggered every sensor in your brain. You act without thinking.

A loud squeaking sound comes from the creature. It collapses to the ground like a dying animal. The shadows slink away revealing the silhouette of a dog, laying gasping on the ground, whimpering and clinging to the life you took from it.

None of them react at first.

Three pairs of eyes watching the life drain. One shocked, one calm, one furious.

You don't even hear the angry words coming out of Mr. Graham's mouth. Your world is spinning, your head is buzzing and you still haven't quite recognized what you had just done. Which of them you had just killed.

He grabs your arm, drags you along to no protest from The Father. You don't remember the way, or where he took you. You only remember the pain of being thrown into the dark room of stone walls. There's no window, no light, and nobody else.

"I'll come get you once you've learned to calm the fuck down."

Those words are all he leaves you with before closing the door. Your breathing is unsteady when you lean against the cold wall and slowly lower yourself to the ground. It's unnerving. You know they're there. They're always there. Watching you, taunting you, baiting you into doing something.

They didn't make noise before; they didn't talk before but now in the darkness they still feel the need to make their presence known.

Calm down calm down calm down

You don't know whether it's you or something else that keeps repeating it. Your heart rate elevates, your body starts to shake. You try to scream out for help but your lips don't move. You don't even hear the little whimpers coming from your throat.

They creep around in the dark. They inch closer. They caress your skin. They fester inside your head.

Spider?

You freeze up in your corner at the familiar voice inside your mind. You don't want to look because you know who you'll see.

"No no no no no no."

Your hands clutch around your head, pulling at your hair.

"Go away!"

I brought food

"No go away! Please! Don't- don't do this."

Go on, I could hear your growling stomach from the gate

"Please!"

I made it

"You're not- you're- not- not-"

Did you hurt yourself?

"Leave me alone! You're not real!"

Whenever you're ready, little Spider

The snow has a blinding purity that's always mesmerized you. It stains so easily, the slightest touch disturbs the perfectly laid coat, creating chaos in the pillows of comfort and sanity. You'd spent most of the morning, most of the day, trekking through that purity and soiling it with the dirt underneath your boots.

There had always been a specific kind of thrill in your chest when you defied orders directly given. A small part of you taken back in your own hands, for better or for worse. You used to thrive so well under watch and order. Even if that's not the case anymore, you'd really ought to listen to the words of your betters.

At least then maybe you wouldn't be here. Standing as still as a statue, having a staring contest with a wolf and its red eyes. They're terribly vibrant. Reminiscent of the blood you could spill now.

Your hand clutched around your gun, ready to move at the order of a split-second decision. You're not here to hunt, you have to remind yourself. Never mind the wolf, never mind your thoughts. It doesn't matter that you used to hunt with them, that they used to sniff out your target for you.

It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter It doesn't matter it does-

The thing isn't even full grown. You'd have been more inclined to leave it alone if it wasn't for the bleeding cross running down it's snout. The red mixed with its fur in a beautiful symmetry. It's growling at you, you think. It makes you wonder if this is what your old targets used to feel when the wolves would corner them. Unlikely. They usually kept a face mixed with fear and hopelessness. Runaway members of the collective never lasted long under the knife.

There's a part of you that doesn't dare look away from it. The fatigue in your eyes almost do it for you, the snow around the creature makes it melt into the surroundings. The wolf was too focused, too interested in the way you looked, in the way you smelled.

He's still training them

They were likely right. If Mr. Graham was still alive, still with the collective, he'd be doing what he'd always been doing.

Cull the herd

Be the guide, the cold example

Cull the herd

And if that was the case, it wouldn't only be wolves lurking around out here. You'd need to relay this to Price, or Laswell, without rousing too much suspicion. It was a mere hunch, a feeling in your gut, but one you'd learnt to trust long ago.

You start to slowly move backwards, if you were tactical about it, you could still come out of this unscathed. Something flickers in the corner of your vision. All it takes is a moments distraction and the creature lunges at you.

The gunshot echoes in your ears. Your instincts took over, fired for you, and in a rare moment of luck you actually manage to hit. The wolf falls to the snow, its left eye is half gone and blood oozes out of it. The snow becomes dirty in its blood.

You take a step closer to it, observing the dead creature. The cross is gone. Something else flickers in the corner of your vision, something bigger and a lot faster. Luck doesn't strike twice, favouring others in a moment of misfortune.

Sharp teeth sink into your shin. You cry out, despite the second wolf only managing to hang onto more clothes than skin, it still penetrates. Scalding pain shoots up your leg. A second gunshot sounding out. You're not sure how you managed to hit it properly this close, but the wolf falls to the ground next to its mate.

You sink to the ground next to them, breathing heavily as if you'd run half a marathon. Your brain runs loops around itself trying to understand what had happened, why both of them had attacked like that, and why the bleeding crosses on their heads were no longer there.

Was it a trick from him? A trick of your mind?

It would take a lot for you to even attempt to call yourself sane any longer but this felt out of hand. Despite your own distorted reality, when it came to the cult you could usually rely on the rampant voices in your head. Were you really turning this paranoid?

With groans and sputters, you manage to move yourself around enough to take a look at your leg. It could've been worse; the damage wasn't deep but you wouldn't be making it to the mountains like this. You let out a curse to the heavens. You'd been so close to achieving your goal before somebody came looking for you, and now you'd have to backtrack.

You had the two options, and you knew you had to choose the boring one.

A higher pitched scream in the distance catches your attention, followed along with a loud splash and arguing not that far from you. The snow carried the sound a bit further than normal but it wouldn't be more than a minute’s walk from your location.

And just when you thought you could make your way back with no complications.

You hoist yourself back on your feet, letting out a hiss as your leg protests to the movement with more pain shot up all the way to your thigh. You lean on a nearby tree, perking your ears to listen to the nearby voices.

At first you can't make out what they're saying but...they're familiar.

Simon and Soap.

Your stomach drops.

Price must have sent them out to look for you. Part of you scolds yourself for not leaving some sort of note or message. No matter how elusive. At least then they might not have come out for you. You could've gotten further, if it hadn't been for the sake of those pesky wolves.

You run a hand over your face, the gloves taking some of the fallen snow off your eyebrows. You walk in the direction of their voices, using their argument to steer you in the right direction.

There was safety in numbers now that they were out here. You weren't keen on being mauled over by another pack of wolves.

"For fucks sake Johnny, I told you to watch where you're placing those feet of yours!"

"Not my fault the bloody stones are so slippery in this weather!"

"Bloody hell just get your arse up!"

You peek out between a set of bushes, the thicket giving you enough cover to observe the situation before you approached them. You tilt your head, your eyebrows turning a bit up in surprise at the sight.

Soap, coming out the water from one of the deeper creeks, completely wet.

Your lip twitches, and you feel the urge to bubble up with laughter. You don't know how he fell in, and you don't really need to know to see the entire event as hilarious.

"Bloody river, stupid weather, stupid snow" he grumbles angrily as he tries to dust off the water like it was a simple speck of dirt.

Simon sighs heavily, his entire gear moving along up and down with him. "You need to go back, gonna get hypothermia if you stay out here," he says sternly. There's concern laced in the order, but it's an undeniable order nonetheless.

"No way...am not letting you stay out here alone, Price told us tae look for 'em together," Soap protests.

"Don't need to look much further," you sigh and speak up.

You emerge from the thicket, startling the both of them at the same time. They're drawn guns are trained on you in an instant, and in return your own gun is trained on Soap. Force of habit and all that.

Simon relaxes when he gets a proper look at you. Soap following soon after.

"Good, you're not dead then" he speaks in a relieved manner. Did he really think you'd act that recklessly? Probably.

"You really think I'd let myself get killed over something that idiotic?"

He looks at you for a moment, but not because he needed to give it any thought. No, his eyes aren't displaying a complex need for that, because he knows the answer. He's giving you the chance to take it back, to explain the limp in your walk. You don't.

"No," he says just as sternly in the crass voice of his.

"Ghost is right," you say and turn towards soap and his half assed attempt at squeezing water out of his gear, "we need to get you back home...get you warmed up."

"Aye."

The entirety of the town is already giving Price the creeps. He's seen his fair share of things in his time, the awful, the creepy, the monstrous. But the feeling this town gives him? Unlike most things he's encountered.

There's no hostility, nothing but the purest of hospitality even for mere tourists. There's something wrong with the smiles, their incessant need to accommodate practically anything he asks for.

He opens the door to the car, holding the two coffee cups against his chest. Garrick reaches over, takes them from him when he gets himself comfortable in the front seat. "I think I got your order right...don't kill me if it isn't, got a bit distracted in line," Price grumbles and leans back in his seat.

Garrick takes a sip of his own, then handing back Price's cup to him. "It's just fine cap, thanks" he mumbles and drinks some more. He let's out a satisfied groan and relaxes back into the seat. "Despite how weird this place is, at least they know how to make coffee."

"Hm that we can agree on," Price takes a sip of his. It's not bad, but he's definitely had better. The shop he went to would do better serving tea on the menu as well.

He'd parked the car in one of the open parking lots, not many seemed to come here. Most of the day it remained practically empty except for the few people coming to and from town. They'd spent the last two hours walking through town, posing as the tourists they undeniable were today. They hadn't learnt much, except for the fact the locals remembered faces too well for comfort.

Though it was to be expected, the town wasn't too big.

"Walked by the church..." Price says with a sigh, "struck up conversation with a few of the locals changing up the sign outside."

"Got anything useful out of them?" Garrick asks as if he'd conducted a whole interrogation.

"They've got daily mass...but most people come on Sundays as to be expected," he tells him before taking another sip, "a few of us should attend on Sunday."

Garrick let's out a louder groan, likely already picking up what he's putting down. The man clearly didn't want to, but like anything else they'd do here in this town, it was all work. Just work.

Price takes another long gulp of his coffee. The energy barely ever worked for him these days, the stress getting to his bones. He looks out towards the bustling little market a bit further up the long road. There wasn't many, but most of them would come through the market at least once a day. Garrick had mentioned a few familiar faces he'd spoken to in his other trips to town.

"Captain, do you think they'll...." he goes quiet, hesitating to finish his question.

"They'll find them," Price says assuredly.

"That's not..."

The captain doesn't bother looking at him, gives him a moment to think his question through. "Speak your mind, Garrick," he urges.

"How much do we actually know about them?" he knows why he's asking. Price had his own doubts, his own concerns, when Laswell first presented your file on his desk and insisted this was the only way.

He hadn't fully shed his doubts yet.

"We know enough, sergeant" it's not the answer he wants nor the answer he needs but it's the answer Price has for him. He'd have to do more digging, for the safety of the team, for the prosperity of the mission itself. You were too big a mystery, one where the only thing he could rely on was Laswell's word.

"They've been helpful, they'll continue to be helpful, it'll have to be enough for now." Price adds on shortly after.

Garrick says nothing in return, simply continues to drink his coffee dissatisfied.

Price starts up the car, intending to have the rest of the way home in silence. And it was, much to his admiration. The sergeant could have a talkative tongue when he got excited about something, he'd think this whole situation would give him a few things to say.

Instead, it leaves him a quiet contemplating mess. Much like the rest of them.

He only ever speaks up in a low grumble when he sees the tip of the house revealing itself in the distance, only to render himself quiet once again.

The silence stretches on until Kyle sees the three figures bickering at the front door. "Isn't that..." he trails out as he realizes they probably don't have the key for the home. He does his best at holding back his laughter. It earns him a side glare from Price.

"Seems like they found 'em."

Price turns the car around and parks it in its usual spot next to the temporary home. "The fuck happened to you?!" Garrick says bemused by the sight of Soap.

Price does raise a questioning brow as he exits the car after Garrick. They were only supposed to go get Spider, why the man was wet as a dog was lost on him.

"Fell in the river..." Soap grumbles.

Garrick fails to hold in his laughter this time around, snorting on the spot. "I know you like water but maybe you should stay away from the literal ice water mate," he claps Soap on the back a few times.

Soap pushes him away annoyed, "agh away n' bile yer heid!"

Price rolls his eyes, pushing past the two to unlock the front door. As soon as it's open, you dart past him to head inside in the warmth with a surprising urgency. He looks to Simon, coming to stand beside him to move inside as well.

"They're fine...mostly fine...we're all fine," he assures him.

He eyes you suspiciously. His boys might've said you were fine, you might've said you were fine to them. Little observation told him that your limping leg wasn't all that fucking fine.

He followed you out back, the rest remaining in the living room to keep MacTavish warm. "Spider, slow it up" he spoke up causing you to freeze in place. He walked with steady steps until he could place himself in front of you.

"Come, I need to talk to you, and we need to take a look at that," he gestures to the leg that has a stained pantleg. He turns back around to walk to his and Garrick's room. He doesn't bother looking back to see if you're following, he has a deep-rooted feeling that you will.

You may be a rulebreaker when you get the confidence, but there's still obedience in you. From where he doesn't understand just yet, but it doesn't take all of his wisdom to gather a lot went down when you were hunting the cult on your own.

He holds the door open for you. Your eyes meet as you make your way inside, there's that stubbornness he's used to seeing in Simon. "Sit," he points to one of the beds pressed into the corner while he closes the door.

You do as he says, your voice stuck in your throat. He rummages through the cabinets, finds the first aid kit he always saved a few of. He didn't even need to tell you to roll up your pantleg, you'd taken the hint way before.

The wounds weren't deep, but whatever you'd been bitten by had been out to be vicious. "You'll need to get a doctor to look at this...lucky for you the town's got a local practice."

You tense up at that, dodge his touch as he tries to keep your leg steady enough to clean. "It's fine..." you say hastily, "It just needs to be cleaned I don't need to see anyone."

"Yes you do and that's an order," Price is stern in his voice.

One thing was to go out of your way to disobey the laid-out deal between the two of you, to run away to look for clues on your own, but this? He wasn't about to let you walk about with an injury that'll make you hurt yourself even more.

You go quiet at that. It's enough for him to grab your calf and put a wet rag against your wound. You flinch but make no sound. Your muscles are tense under his grip and your eyes shut tight.

He allows you the moment of silence, understanding the discomfort of it. He doubted you'd be able to answer anything if he even asked you right now. He cleans off the excess blood, checking the toughness of the teeth punctures. It wasn't as serious as it looked, but you still needed a checkup, he wasn't changing his mind about that.

He removes the rag, and binds the wound. "Did you find anything?" he doesn't look at you as he asks, merely focusing on cleaning up the opened supplies.

"No..." you speak in a low whisper; he wouldn't have heard unless he was this close.

You don't elaborate, and he doesn't find the energy in him to ask.

"Next time you want to go on an adventure like that you take someone with you, or at the very least inform me," he's back to speaking sternly, the voice of a captain that's been carefully crafted over the years in service.

"I can't have rogue soldiers running around, is that understood?" he looks up to catch your eyes.

You hold his stare with an uncomfortable intensity, trying to be as intimidating as he is.

"Yes sir."

He pats your calf, tugging down your pant leg once again. That time you held back your flinch, but it was obvious in your eyes to him. He takes a moment to observe you, trying to dig through your rougher exterior, to see if you were really softer under in it all.

Had you been soft once?

He calls your name in a quiet voice, makes a point to use a softer voice with rounder edges.

"There's parts of your file not even I have access to," he starts slow, careful, then pauses. You're wary of him, more than the others. He chalks it up to his authority over you, the one you can't quite find your place underneath.

"What's haunting you that much...that you won't even let me in on surprise plans...we're all a team here we-"

You rise from your seat with no warning. You're quick to make your way around him, careful to not step on any of the scattered things on the floor. He doesn't stop you nor does he continue what he was about to pry out of you.

He understands in some underhanded way. He'd dealt with Simon a lot longer than he'd dealt with you. There were undeniable similarities yet still something entirely different between the two.

"You'll go to town first thing tomorrow morning, I'll get Ghost to take you" he speaks up from his seat on the floor. You stop somewhere close to the door, listening to his words, his order. You don't answer him, but he knows you heard him, that you'll heed him this once.

You leave the room, closing the door with a care for potential noise.

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molly-ghuleh · 1 year

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Hi pretty, i want "i think i deserve a kiss" for the prompts with Cardinal Copia, pretty please ? i love you, you're amazing!!!

Kiss Prompts: "I think I deserve a kiss"

Cardinal Copia x reader

SFW! Contains: assistant trope, overworked trope, sickeningly sweet fluff, pining, suggestive if you squint, the titties and beer mug

Thank you for requesting my lovely!!! <3

Kiss prompts

The Cardinal's office is bathed in soft light from his various mismatched lamps. The Sun had set hours ago, but there was an important deadline that had caught up with the two of you. You, as the Cardinal's Clergy assistant, dutifully sit at your little desk in the corner of his office as Copia hunches over his own in the center of the room.

"What time is it?" You ask softly. You're sure it must be past midnight by now. This damned budget report from Papa's most recent tour is due on Sister Imperator's desk by the morning, and that woman wakes up unfathomably early.

Copia pulls up his cassock sleeve to glance at his watch. "It is, eh, twenty-three past midnight," he says. His voice is gravelly with the lack of sleep.

The two of you had been awake since six that morning with the sole intention of compiling every expense report under the Ministry's roof. Receipts, invoices, and account statements litter Copia's desk. He dictates each total to you and you type away on your laptop, entering the data into a mile-long spreadsheet that makes your computer run hotter than the fires of Hell.

Judging by the way Copia runs his fingers through his hair, there's still a ways to go--you'd learned to read his body language during your tenure as his assistant. You sigh and stand from your chair. Your back pops in a concerning manner, but you're far past caring. "Time for another pot of coffee?" You offer. Even if he says no, you'll make one for yourself if only to stretch your legs.

"You are far too good to me," Copia utters softly, looking up at you. His hair falls over his forehead from how often he'd ruffled it in frustration. His biretta had long since been discarded. The top few buttons of his cassock are undone, making him look delightfully unkempt.

You want to run your fingers through his hair.

"Maybe I just like coffee," you tease back, lips quirking with the sarcasm. Being tired makes you sassy. It's something that the Cardinal has said he likes about you. It makes working late more fun, he'd said, and that phrase had fuelled your hopeless little crush for months.

He simply huffs a laugh through his nose and you exit his office, mugs in hand, your slippers (which you kept under your desk for nights like these) scuffing along the tile of the dark corridor. The kitchens are a short walk from the Clergy's office wing. You're surprised there isn't a groove carved into the floor tracing your path from Copia's office to the coffee pot with how much caffeine the two of you manage to consume.

Despite late nights like these, the work is rewarding. You're on good terms with most of the Upper Clergy (you never know where you stand with Sister on any given day), you have special privileges to the Clergy break room, and you get to spend your days with Cardinal Copia, pining after him like some lovesick teenager.

At least you have your hand.

You rinse out the used mugs while the new pot of coffee brews. You prepare yours how you like, and make his with the attention to detail of a coffee shop barista who subsists on tips alone. Copia likes it lukewarm and sickeningly sweet. He would prefer a latte of course, but you don't have the time nor the energy to make one, so he'll have to settle for half-coffee-half-creamer and an unholy amount of sugar. Still, you smile, because you know exactly what he'll say when you place the mug in front of him, and you know exactly which witty retort you'll think in your head.

You make your way back to his office, bumping the heavy wooden door open with your hip while you hold one mug in each hand. His favorite is a plain white ceramic mug with the words 'rat dad' in bold black letters--a gift you'd given him after a year of working as his assistant. Your mug is a hand-me-down from him, his second-favorite, which says 'titties and beer' and which you're pretty sure Terzo had given him as a joke.

"Here," you say softly as you place his mug in an open space on his desk.

Copia sighs in relief and looks up at you. "I don't deserve you, tesoro," he says. He immediately takes a sip of the coffee and hums.

And your witty retort: "Yes, well, I think I deserve a kiss," you think as you turn to move towards your own desk.

The sound of Copia sputtering and coughing behind you makes you jump. Your tongue tingles with the sensation of recent words. They practically echo in the relative silence of his office, and immediately you realize your mistake. Your heart plummets.

You get sassy when you're tired, but you also tend to say what you're thinking.

"You, eh, you-- what?" Copia stutters. You can barely bring yourself to look at him out of sheer embarrassment.

"N-nothing!" You respond, too quickly and too high-pitched. He'd heard you, and you know he heard you, and he knows that you know.

You sit in your desk chair and pretend nothing happened. The monitor of your laptop does nothing to hide your deep blush or the line between your brows.

Copia's office is silent for a few moments, until his chair squeaks in the familiar sound of him standing. You brace yourself to be reprimanded, to be told that it is wholly inappropriate to say such things in front of your boss, or to be fired completely. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Instead, you see the deep red of Copia's cassock at the edge of your little desk, and he clears his throat. You swallow dryly and meet his gaze, absolutely mortified. A bead of nervous sweat rolls down the back of your neck. Stupid, stupid--

"I- I think you may be right, tesoro," Copia says, his voice shaking slightly. His lips quirk up at the corners which makes his mustache twitch. "We have, eh... danced around it for too long, yes?"

Oh, sweet Lucifer take me now.

Copia braces his hands on your desk and leans forward, bringing his face inches away from your own. You can feel his warm breath ghost over your lips. "I think you are long overdue for a kiss, dolce. Many, in fact."

Before you can say anything, he places his lips so sweetly against yours. His mustache tickles your top lip and his nose bumps against yours, but it doesn't matter. You're kissing him, and it's real, and it feels good. Where your heart had sunk before, it practically leaps out of your chest, hammering against your sternum. You lean into the kiss.

Copia pulls away far too soon and you chase his lips, but your cursed desk gets in the way. Instead you stare at him dumbly. Are you drooling? You might be drooling.

"The budget report, tesoro," Copia gently reminds you. Right. The budget report. "But, I plan to kiss you again and again once it is done, si? You, eh... deserve it."

#cardinal copia #copia #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #ghost #writing prompts #kiss prompts #ghost band x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #baelzbu

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formulalfc · 10 months

Note

could you please make the request about trent and uni student reader where she’s struggling a long fic x (sorry forgot to specify before lol)

I'm Here Now

Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader

tw- none really, exam stress

The last few weeks of university were really hard for every student, tests, essays, quizzes, you name it. But you were really determined to do well on your upcoming exams having studied so hard over the year.

You spent every day sitting in your boyfriend's office, typing away trying to get all your work done so that you could finally relax after a long year.

But as your final week got closer, your routine went out the window and you were now pulling all-nighters to try and get everything done. You allowed yourself maybe an hour sleep, curled up on the sofa in Trent's office, and then you were up again going through notes.

Trent had been away on international duty for the past few days but was due back today and yet you hadn't even remembered. So engrossed in your work and so out of sorts with what day it is you had no idea your boyfriend was coming home today.

You were currently really struggling with this particular essay you were doing, it was a hard topic and your lack or rest was starting to catch up with you.

The words on the screen started to look jumbled and like they ddint make sense, you screwed your eyes in an attempt to make things clear again but you just couldn't focus.

Tears of frustration started pooling in your eyes, fuelled also by your lack of sleep. You were so close to finishing everything being able to relax and now you just couldn't concentrate.

What started as a few tears were starting to turn into steams of them, sobs racking through your body as you cursed yourself for not looking after yourself better as you were now paying the price.

Due to your uncontrollable tears, you hadn't heard your front door open and close as your boyfriend came in and you hadn't heard him call out your name.

Trent was confused at your lack of response and assumed that you were studying with headphones on or something but when he opened the study door he see you there crying and his heart near enough broke.

As you caught sight of your boyfriend its like you were finally ready to let it all out, now finding it hard to breathe as you cried.

Trent rushed over to you and lifted you from your chair, gently sitting down on the sofa with you cradled in his lap.

You had stuck your head into his neck and were sobbing into him as he cooed down at you telling you, "You're okay baby, you're okay. I'm here now, I'm gonna make it all better okay?"

Your cries eventually died down as you snuggled further into him, finally feeling content in his arms. And soon enough you had fallen asleep in the arms of your boyfriend, who stared down at you in worry.

He could tell from your face that you had worn yourself down, and he felt bad knowing that he wasn't here to stop you from beating yourself up over silly exams.

But he felt better now knowing that you were here, safe in his arms, where you always should be.

Your boyfriend carried you down the hallway to your shared room, slowly managing to peel the covers back before he placed you onto the bed and tucked you in.

He left for a moment to get you a glass of water and some paracetamol for when you woke up, knowing that you would have a headache after all those hours you spent at your computer.

When he got back you seemed to be tossing and turning restlessly without him by your side. And so he quickly dumped the things on the side and stripped down to his boxers, turning off the hallway lights before moving into bed behind you.

You lay still as Trent pulled you close to him and wrapped his arms around you, knowing you could rest now and that you could worry about your essays in the morning.

#formulalfc #trent alexander arnold #taa x reader #taa66 #taa #trent alexander arnold smau #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold blurb #liverpool #liverpool football club #liverpool fc #lfc #liverpool football club x reader #liverpool fc x reader

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julianalvarez9 · 2 years

Text

saw her first / mason mount & christian pulisic

request: hi! since your request is open can i request for a christian pulisic fic where reader is dating christian and she’s mason’s bestfriend. 3 of them are hanging out together in mason’s house and mason was complaining about his day to christian & reader but she is distracted by christian’s arm tattoos, she keep tracing it and inspecting it like she has never seen it before and mason is sooo done with reader’s behaviour and he called her out. make it fluffy, funny and sweet please!! thank you ❤️

pairing: bff!reader x bff!mason x bf!christian

word count: 0.9k

author's note: took me a bit but here it is! hope you like it 🤍

nothing had been going like mason wanted today.

he was rambling about it ever since he got through the door with your boyfriend, christian, just after practice. his effusive hands and his pacing throughout your flat reflected how conflicted he was about whatever it was that he was talking about, but running on almost no sleep it was almost impossible to catch what he was saying. mason stopped, dead in his tracks, and looked straight at you, once he realized you weren't replying to anything he was saying. he saw that you were too caught up in your boyfriend's tattoos in his left arm, tracing with your finger every line that adorned his skin.

you knew his arm like it was your own, having your finger traveling throughout the lines that dressed his skin with all sorts of drawings even before you two became a couple. mason obviously noticed your lack of attention to his complaints, and fuelled the anger that was already brewing in his bones.

“y/n, are you even listening to me?” he exclaimed, stopping on his tracks and getting his hands on his hips, eyes glaring at you when you dared to lift up your own, paying attention again once you heard your name.

you replied, maybe too quick to sound convincing. “of course i am!”.

mason lifted his eyebrows in an interrogative way, while christian stood up to find a glass of water in the kitchen, wanting to avoid his friend's wrath once he caught onto your lie.

“then what did i say?” he questioned, and his wicked smile grew the longer you took to answer him. “something about tuchel…?” you said, in a doubtful tone, clearly unsure about your answer. he opened his eyes wide at your mention of the german man who used to be chelsea's manager -key word, used. not anymore.

he raised his hands towards the sky, and then down onto his hair, looking like he might rip his head off. christian could only cough, trying to avoid getting drowned with the liquid he had been drinking before hearing your answer. “he hasn’t been with us since september!” mason said, high pitch in his voice noting how frustrated he was. you noticed he had tears in his eyes when he seated across from you, head in his hands that were supported in his legs. preoccupied by his reaction, you almost jumped to your feet, crouching by his side to hug him tightly.

“right, i’m sorry. i didn’t get to meet the new manager yet. i'm sorry, mase” you tried to explain, thinking that he was so mad at you that his anger spilled in tears. he lifted his gaze from his hands, to look at you through his glazed eyes. “you haven’t been coming to the matches?” mason said, voice broken in disbelief. you heard christian moving back into the living room, standing behind his friend to gently caress his head in a comforting way.

you explained, voice soft while looking back and forth between your best friend and your boyfriend behind him. “work has been insane these past few weeks. i promise i’ll be at the bridge for the next one, okay?”. you received a sympathetic smile in return, eyes now full of gentleness as they always were with mason. christian muttered, trying not to sound too judging but stating the truth nonetheless. he would never say something negative about your job, but he did miss seeing your face in the stands, cheering for him on the bridge or anywhere he played at. “you’ve been promising that to me since october…”, he noted.

“yeah, but i’m promising it to masey boy here” you said, jokingly, wanting to tease your boyfriend a bit. they always bickered about who’s your favorite, and even now, when you've been dating christian for almost two whole years, and he clearly knowing that he's got your heart completely, annoying him with mason never got old.

“you’re my girlfriend!” the american player said, big pout in his fully plump lips. you raised to your feet again, and gave him a quick peck on the lips, at which he grinned in return. mason, still in the couch and now under both of you, tried to separate you, like a little kid getting jealous about his mum and dad showing displays of affection in front of him. he got up, and turned to face christian now, pointing his finger accusingly at him. “she was my childhood neighbor before being your girlfriend, mate, i saw her first” he noted, smile that split his face in half at thinking he had won the argument. he always used that card against christian, even though you two hadn't really met there, only being aware of that fact due to your mom finding a pic of you and mason at one of your brother's birthday.

“yeah but-” your boyfriend tried to replicate, but you had grown tired of the argument replaying again and again, time after time, always with the same ending -no one winning, as you loved both boys to death. “enough of that!," you glared at both of them, two sets of wide eyes in return at your sudden raise in tone. an idea came to mind, and you, not being one to pass onto the fun, decide to joke a bit with the two best friends. "i’ll call tuchel to suspend both of you if you continue this nonsense” you quipped.

“for the last time, it’s potter now, y/n!" they both yelled at you, at which you could only laugh, clearly pleased with the annoyed look in both their faces.

#football imagine #football x y/n #football x reader #football x you #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

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queenshelby · 2 years

Text

The Trainee (Part Three)

Pairing: Dom!Thomas Shelby x Sub!Reader

Warning: Pure Filth, Smut, Explicit Content, Prostitution, Rough, Anal, Dubious Consent? Lack of Plot

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Later that night…

‘Y/N’ Tommy’s deep voice grumbled in the quietness of your bedroom as you felt the mattress shift and you made a sleepy sound of protest and buried your head into your pillow while rolling away from him.

‘I need you to wake up Love’ he said softly, although his tone held some bite when he spoke.

‘Can’t you sleep Mr Shelby?’ you asked tiredly while rubbing your eyes, thinking that, at least, he had warned you about this. He told you earlier that, occasionally, his insomnia got the better of him and that, during such instances, he would require your services for which you would be paid extra.

‘No. I can’t’ he confirmed and, without him having to say anything else, you nodded your approval and turned over.

‘Alright. I will be at your service Mr Shelby’ you then said with your already sore core clenching at the thought of more of his pounding. He was clearly in a bad mood too. Something had happened but you did not dare to ask. It was none of your business and you knew that this was nothing more than a job for you.

‘I will make it quick Love. I promise’ Tommy then said and, before you could even open your eyes fully, he tossed the blankets off you.

The chilly night air was a shock to your warm skin, making it break out into goosebumps. His rough hands grabbed your ankles from the foot of the bed. One sharp tug had you quickly muffling a shriek as he flipped you over, making you lie flat on your stomach.

‘Mr Shelby’ you gasped before nodding into the pillow, in approval to his request. You were shocked by his sudden action but it did not surprise you. He clearly wanted to get off and that quickly.

‘I am sorry Love, but all have been able to think about is that tight little cunt of yours ’Tommy then groaned before sliding off his clothes. His eyes were fuelled with fire and his already hard cock slapped against his flat stomach, the head reaching above his navel.

He then climbed on top of you after he pushed your white cotton panties down just enough that he could take you.

‘Use your hands and spread yourself open for me’ Tommy then ordered, fisting his cock with impatience.

‘Yes Mr Shelby’ you said as you slid your hand down to do as he asked, parting your ass cheeks as well in the process. He lowered his body onto yours and you felt the blunt tip of his cock rub against your sensitive folds. He was hot and sticky with precum.

‘I do not think that I am ready yet sir’ you whispered as he pressed against your hole, grunting when it parted for him. Unlike before, there was no foreplay whatsoever and you were still quite sore from the few times he took you earlier that day.

‘You are wet enough for me Love. You still have my cum dripping out of your cunt from earlier’ he groaned as he pushed his cockhead in and you moaned slightly as your sore tissue gave way to the invasion. He was right, it did go in easily.

‘That’s it, good girl’ he praised you again as he kept pushing into you and, eventually, he sighed as he buried himself inside of you fully.

Once you felt his balls rest against your body, he started hunching into you slowly. You winced and moaned at the push and pull in your pussy as Tommy had already used you a few hours earlier that day.

‘Don’t worry Love, I will just fill your pussy up once more and then we will give it a little rest and use one of your other holes, eh’ he said reasonably as he knew that you were rather sore by now.

Nonetheless, and in spite of your soreness, your want for Thomas’s cock quickly grew as he was inside of you and you began to moan as he picked up the pace, slapping his hips against your ass.

‘That’s it Love. You are taking me so well’ he groaned as your core clenched around his thick length from the pleasurable sensation.

‘Your body is mine to use…’ he then said as you repeatedly clenched and released your pussy around him in time with his thrusts the way he taught you.

Harder and faster he thrusted into you as he was chasing his release, rutting into you like a wild beast.

‘And I will fill you up with cum every fucking day while you are here with me’ he said louder this time as you whined at his faster pace and, with that, you started to chase your own climax.

It was a mix of pleasure and pain. You were sore and yet incredibly aroused as Tommy worked himself to a finish.

Your harsh breathing and the smack of wet flesh were the only things you could hear and the sounds of raw fucking filled the room.

‘Oh god’ you eventually shouted out into the pillow just after Tommy picked up his pace again.

You cried out at the impossibly deep and fast penetration. He grunted like an animal as he moved his hips in a circle, searching for something inside you with his cock. You knew the moment he found it. The intense pressure as he pushed against your cervix had you crying out at the discomfort and pleasure all at the same time and, with that, you came hard and fast around his cock.

‘That it. Cum for me Love’ Tommy then groaned and, just as he did, you could feel his cock swell. The base of his cock began to throb as you felt the familiar wet heat of his cum flood your pussy.

Some primal part of you loved this feeling and your pussy fluttered in recognition of what was happening and milked him. Your mouth opened as you groaned at the sensation.

‘Fuck’ he murmured, sweetly brushing a lock of hair from your face before he gave you some more of his weight, his hips pushing his cock just a little deeper. With more primal groans, his cock continued to pump you full with his seed and you shrieked once more, feeling his load flood you.

Then, after another minute, Tommy pulled his cock out with a wet sucking noise and it left a dull ache behind and, just when you thought that this was it and you could now go back to sleep, Tommy began to stroke his cock again.

Just when his cock was hard again which, really, took a minute at the most, he dipped two of his fingers into your wetness where his cum had pooled and then brought them up to your mouth.

‘Common Love. Open your mouth and suck them clean’ he ordered while you tried to protest but, eventually, you complied with his request and quietly sucked his fingers into your mouth.

He must have known how humiliating this was and, yet, you sucked obediently. His fingers seemed somehow pleased to have your lips and tongue around them and the mixture of your combined juices tasted strange, though not exactly unclean.

Tommy then pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth in the dark, breathing with quiet, husky satisfaction while your eyes slowly became accustomed to your surrounds. You couldn’t see a thing, only a shadow but you felt everything he did to you.

‘Good Girl’ he was whispering again before, all too soon, he moved his hands greedily back down to your mound which is where he let them stay for what felt like a minute before he positioned himself on top of you once more.

‘As I promised you Love, we will give your cunt a little a rest, eh’ Tommy then said before he pushed his hardening shaft up and down between your ass-cheeks and sighed deeply before, finally, he pulled your lower half up towards him.

'Now, I need you to stay very still for me sweetheart’ he then said as, very slowly, he spread your wetness and some of his cum over your rear opening which, again, surprised and confused you.

Tommy then held himself up carefully with one hand and stretched your left cheek back with the other before, finally, lowering himself to your yet unclaimed and unused hole.

He pushed gently at the opening which opened up for him only very slightly and, if you could have, you would have wriggled yourself away from him by now.

He was pushing gently, but he could not disguise his firmness, or the large size of it against you. Surely this was impossible. It would not go in, you thought. And yet, you had spoken about this before. He had even used his fingers inside your rear opening earlier that evening, probably to prepare you for what was to come.

‘Mr Shelby, it hurts’ you pointed with a stammering voice but he would not relent.

‘I know, but you will get used to it Love. This is what good whores do for their customers’ Tommy then said as, suddenly, he was using more force. He pushed it inside you, just the first little bit. It felt so big, stretching you.

'Shhh! Let me come inside you Sweetheart’ Tommy whispered before he pushed even further and, by this point, you could not think. You could just feel his strength, his bigness, his hands pushing on the small of your back. Inside you, he felt brutal and like velvet, both at once.

At last, with a full groan that embarrassed you and vibrated inside you, he was all the way in. You had done it. You had taken him in, all of him. He stopped there and started rocking his hips against you. His breath was heavier, deeper and hoarser than you could ever have imagined.

‘You feel good Love and, now that I have claimed all of your holes, I am certain that you will serve me and my customers well’ Tommy then groaned as every inch of him was swelling lustfully in the most embarrassing and intimate place in your body. He was using you, taking you, rocking inside you.

It did not hurt quite so much now, but the fullness of him inside you was overwhelming. He was lunging into you now, moving slowly and deliberately, moving back slightly and lunging again. His whole body weighed on you and you felt so fragile, so narrow and hollow beneath him, his body overpowering yours.

You were almost ashamed of the lust you were provoking in this man, but, somehow, you also felt an inexplicable reassurance in his attention on you as he forced himself in and out of your tightest hole.

You were his, fully and completely. Squirming inside, you felt a strange little feeling. Was it gratitude? What he was doing, the way he was taking you, breathing on you, using you, seemed to unlock something in you. The parts of you that felt good when they were touched had barely had his attention, but they screamed out to you all the same.

You somehow felt humbled that this extraordinary being, a man so powerful as Thomas Shelby, wanted you and needed to use your body, touching you with hands that must have touched so many other women. But you were the one he needed to be with right now.

That itch, that burning itch that only he brought out in you. You did not know what possessed you but, eventually, you started to push yourself against your hands, softly at first, hoping desperately that he would not notice. But once you had started, you could not stop. You were rubbing yourself, while he forced himself in to you, over and over again.

Your hands worked hard and your hips started to move beneath him. You must have looked pathetic, but you could not help yourself. His body was on top of you, filling you up, doing things that were beyond your imagination. It was too much, and this seemed to somehow be the only answer.

A fire flashed through your body from the inside out.

Your hands scrambled to rub yourself and your hips rocked beneath Tommy frantically. He chuckled in response and began to lunge faster into you, rocking against you as if he was riding a horse. You would never have imagined it and could barely admit it to yourself, but he felt strangely good inside you. And then, your anger heightened as you realised the horrible truth. You wanted more of him. You wanted him close, owning you. Even like this.

A few more praises soon left Tommy’s mouth and you only rubbed yourself harder. The air seemed to become thick and you sneezed, struggling to breathe or make any sense of anything.

‘You like me using you like this, don't you?’ Tommy groaned as he grabbed your left breast again as if to suggest it was evidence of your lust.

'Say yes, Sir’ he mused arrogantly and so you did.

'Yes, sir’ you howled and Tommy’s hand came tight around your throat in an erotic rather than forceful kind of way and, just as it did, he was breathing you in, and seemed pleased.

He was so strong and you crumbled underneath him, hoping he would not see. Your hands moved faster again, helplessly and Tommy was moving faster now too.

Your eyes grew big but they continued staring at your pillow as you kept on moaning loudly while Tommy’s continuing praises shook with obvious pleasure.

‘I am close Love’ he groaned as he forced himself into you more and more violently and your face burned with desire.

‘And I am going to fill your ass with cum, eh…nice and deep’ he then groaned and you almost screamed in pleasure.

‘Mr Shelby, please’ you moaned, unsure about what you were pleading for as your young skin and your obedience were too much for Thomas Shelby. He squeezed your left nipple again and rammed into you like a relentless machine, faster and faster. A silkiness soon flooded over you with each lunge, laced now and then with a spiky brutality as he hit too hard, pulled too fast, poked too eagerly at your walls. And yet, it felt so incredibly good.

Then, finally, Tommy grunted urgently and out a gasp, and at last, his warm, silky liquid seeped into you, travelling upwards as far as it could go.

That was it and, yet, he kept his grip on you until his shaft had shrivelled and retracted, softening slowly until, finally, he pulled himself out.

‘You are so obedient Love. I am impressed’ he then said and you glowed with the praise, despite everything, enjoying the warm residue of him inside you, and kept rubbing yourself, finally edging towards a wave of pleasure, almost ready for it to overcome you.

Tommy then laid back down beside you and put his hands around yours. For a moment, you thought he might help you but, instead, he folded your hands together, closing them and bringing them up, away from your labia and under your pillow.

'That is not for you to touch Love. Not unless I am inside of you’ he said and you sighed with disappointment.

'Yes, Mr Shelby’ you said nonetheless and in a little voice, moving your backside instinctively closer towards him and digging your fingers helplessly into the mattress.

'Good. Now get some sleep’ he said gently and, without knowing what had gotten into you, you pulled his arm around your limb body, wanting to feel his touch which, all so suddenly, had become so much gentler than before.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #peaky blinder #Peaky Blinders #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby au

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