#dob x y/n
Note
Can you make a dylan fic with a similar vibe to ‘sour’ your joseph fic? just basically needy sex and he takes care of her? 💓💓 you’re so talented and good at writing it’s crazyyyyy! 🤩🤩
Author's Notes: Thank you very, very much. You're incredibly kind. I actually had something similar written a bit ago, but never really intended on sharing. But, I started sharing my Dylan works a while ago, and this request came in...sometimes things fit nicely, and I like that. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - messages, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you! xoxo
Warnings: Swearing, Arguing/ Tension, Slight angst, Sexual references - sexual innuendos, Smut*(established relationship, dom/sub relationship, choking, hair pulling, biting/ pinching, oral sex - female receiving, use of safe words - lights, unprotected sex - be safe out there, your choice how!)
Requested? YES! Requests are open!
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
They were not having a good day.
She was having a hard day with her writing, and Dylan was frustrated. He felt shitty and there was no other soft, term to sugarcoat it. He just didn't feel like himself that day.
"Baby, I was going to order Thai food for dinner. What did you want?" She questioned as she stood in the living room while Dylan watched baseball.
"M'not hungry." Dylan mumbled as he kept his eyes low, and fixed on the television.
"You haven't eaten all day. What do you want, Dylan?" She sighed, asking once more a little firmer as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Don't. Alright? I'm not in the mood for your attitude." Dylan grunted with a glare.
"What attitude? God, Dylan!" She snapped before she stormed out of the room, but Dylan was hot on her heels. He might not have been in the mood for her attitude, but he was in the mood to argue.
"This. This attitude. You're being a fucking brat, and I'm not having it. Give me this." Dylan spat as he grabbed her phone from her hand and placed it down on the counter a little harder than she would have preferred.
"Dylan! That's my new phone!" She snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest again, glaring at him before she went to reach for her device.
"You are in your fucking head all the time, and that's why you can't write anything right now. And then you project all your shit on me. I'm done with it." Dylan growled as he pushed her phone across the counter, out of her reach.
"Like you're so sunny to be around today, O'Brien." She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, adjusting her arms across her chest and accentuating her chest.
"Don't. Don't do that." Dylan warned as he pointed to her chest, watching her take deeps breaths in. He disliked when she talked back to him, but not as much as he liked it. He liked how her face got flushed, pupils dilated and breath uneven when she told him that he was, "a fuck". He liked it when she jammed her finger into his chest, all weak and with no force whatsoever, and then stormed off with that exaggerated sway in her hips.
"Don't stare at my tits then." She snapped as she went to turn on her heel, only to have him take hold of her wrist and tug her back against his chest.
"You know I'm more of ass man, sweetheart." Dylan mumbled as he held her wrist and looked her over.
"Well, watch this ass walk away. You don't get to play, O'Brien." She muttered as she pulled her wrist back and turned to storm away from him.
"I said, don't." Dylan growled as he grabbed her hips and lifted her up, sitting her on the island counter with a thud.
"You're asshole, O'Brien." She whimpered as she pulled his hair hard, making him groan.
"Well, you're a little brat and I'm not too fond of you today either. Did you at least get something done? Make your attitude worth it?" Dylan mumbled as he ran the palm of his hand over her collarbone to her throat, trying t keep his dominance as she rolled her body into his.
"Yes."
"Good. Are you going to be nice to me now?" Dylan grumbled as he gently flexed his grip on her throat, feeling her whimper beneath his palm.
"If you're nice to me." She shivered as she pulled at the hem of his shirt and wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer.
"I'm the nicest. I'm such a good boyfriend that I'll lick your pussy, right here on this counter. Would you like that?" Dylan breathed out as he kissed below her ear, his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck.
"Dylan." She whispered as she tipped her head back so he would kiss her neck more.
"You want my tongue between these thighs, honey? Did you miss me today?" Dylan hummed as he pushed his free hand between them to rub her core through the fabric of her leggings. He felt a territorial grunt bubble in the depths of his stomach as he felt her leggings damp beneath his touch.
She wasn't as angry with him as the little show she had put on today.
"Yeah, baby." She breathed out with a delicious little roll of her hips into his fingers and Dylan completely forgot why he was upset.
Dylan muttered incoherently under his breath as he grabbed the waistband of her leggings and wrestled them off. He rooted his fingers in her panties and tore them at the centre, humming when he saw her soaked folds underneath.
"Come here." Dylan growled as he hitched at the waist, hooking his biceps under her knees to bring her core to his mouth. He gave her messy licks and kisses all her folds, tasting her for the first time that day and he was ravenous.
Her back arched off the counter, her thighs pressed to the sides of his handsome face as she pushed her hands through his hair. She whined and wriggled in his grasp as his tongue swirled around her folds in the most obscene and steadfast circles. He was so good between her legs, and he fucking knew it.
"Gonna make me cum, baby." She whined out as she tugged his hair and rolled her hips into his face.
Dylan hummed triumphantly as she gasped, finishing. He pinched the back of her thigh and gave her entrance a messy open mouth kiss after she came, then tugged her off the counter and put her back on her feet.
"Bend over." Dylan mumbled as he helped her turn around, manhandling her to his desired position. He bend her over the counter and shredded the remainder of her panties, letting them fall to the floor.
"Dylan." She whimpered as she stood on her toes, holding her weight on the counter as he ran his thumb through her drip from behind.
"Sometimes I wanna fuck the anger right outta you, but you know I kinda like it. You know I can handle you. Right, honey?" Dylan mumbled as he wiggled out of his sweats, lined up with her entrance and tugged her head up with his fist wrapped around her hair.
"You couldn't fuck me hard enough, O'Brien." She spat as she pressed back into him to try and fill herself with his length.
"Says the woman who cried because I fucked her so good Saturday night." Dylan growled as he gave her a firm thrust with no warning, making her cry out.
"Fuck you, Dylan." She shivered as she pulled her nails across the countertop as he filled her out, then began a fast pace to shake her whole body.
"Move your hips a little and you will, honey." Dylan teased with a tug of her hair as he leaned down to bite her neck. He groaned into her neck as he felt her bounce back into him, her walls squeezing him tightly.
"Yellow light!" She cried out as he nudged her gspot at a particular angle that made her entire body go weak. After all the anger and emotions she had felt that day, she didn't want to feel him there while she attempted to hold herself upright.
"M'sorry, honey. Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" Dylan panted as he pulled out just a little, hands on her hips as he buried his face in her neck.
"Couch?" Dylan replied as he eased out of her, turned her around then lifted her up ever so gently to carry her to the big sectional couch. He laid her back on the couch and positioned himself between her thighs, kissing along her neck as he waited for her go-ahead once more.
"I didn't say stop." She whispered as she wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips to his.
"M'sorry we fought today. Oh, damn." Dylan groaned as he slipped back inside of her.
"No. I'm sorry, baby." She pouted as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his back, tugging his shirt.
"Are you gonna cum, honey?" Dylan smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers, hands gripped at the backs of her thighs to pull them high around his waist.
"Yes! Will you cum with me, Dylan?" She whimpered as she rocked her hips with his.
The moment Dylan heard her say his name, his hips were no longer his. They became wild, on a mission of their own and it was all he could do to hold on. He gripped her thighs and pressed his forehead to her chest as he came inside of her, a growl deep in his abdomen as he rolled his hips through the aftershock.
"Goddamn, woman." Dylan sighed as his body became weak, flopping on top of hers. He could feel his hands shaking even as he pressed them to her thighs.
"You started it." She teased softly as she placed a soft kiss to the top of his head, her own hands clutching his shirt.
Dylan let out an exhausted laugh as he used all of his remaining strength to turn them over, resting her body on top of his.
"Goodnight, honey." Dylan mumbled as he stroked her hair, both of their bodies fragile and limp. There was more apologizing to do, but that was to be done later. They had so much time.
"You don't want to go to bed?" She asked with a soft kiss to his neck.
"Here's good."
**I have stopped doing a tag list for the time being. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo
Requests for Dylan O'Brien, Andrew Garfield, Eddie Munson and Joseph Quinn are open!!! Requests for OBX are closed.
If you enjoyed this, you might also like my fics:
Her Outfit {Dylan O'Brien}
For the Team {Dylan O'Brien}
Dylan O'Brien NSFW Alphabet
Sour {Joseph Quinn}
#dylan o'brien fic#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien smut#dylan o'brien fanfiction#dylan o'brien x female reader#dylan o'brien x y/n#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien reader smut#dylan o'brien fluff#dylan o'brien x reader smut#dob#dylan obrien#dylan obrien fan fiction#dylan obrien smut
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Dancing Juice
Barcelona femeni x Teen reader
word count: 2500
Summary: teenage reader has a little too much to drink on a night out with the team, but all the girl wants to do is dance.
Warnings: alcohol, vomiting, some swearing
For context: reader lives with Alexia
requests open :)
You are the highest you have ever been, dancing like the kid you are in the change rooms post-match. A pure and smooth win for the team has the us celebrating. Blasting music and singing echoing of the hard walls of the room, shaking from the synchronized jumping and dancing of the team.
You can barely feel your body, concluding from a mix of your teammates picking you up into the air and your consistent jumping to the beat of whatever song was playing. You felt as though you were cloud nine, and that feeling didn’t leave you side all night, infect, in the coming hours it would only get more intense.
You had all showered and cleaned yourself up before piling into Ubers and heading to a club around the corner, you are still only 16, but managed to get in as Frido knows the owners. You wore a little black top, paired with a white Demin mini skirt and a pair of sneakers, most of the team wore the same sort of thing.
You walk into the crowded room, a strong strobe light being to only lighting too the space. Your eyes laid themselves upon team, sitting cosy in a large booth as members piled through the door. The next notable feature of the room being the dance floor, you would be spending most of the night there.
“Hola y/n, you clean up well” you are greeted by Ona who helps you find a spot to sit at the booth. You have let your natural curls breathe for the night, a rare sight for the girls, who would consistently tell you to stop straightening it.
Most the girls hold drinks in their hands, a sight which made you immediately uncomfortable, it wasn’t anything to do with them, but you always hated when they would drink, and you would have to stay entirely sober. It makes you feel a little left out in a way. Alexia has known about this little issue of yours for a few months, having had pulled you aside once at a party when you had completely shut done when everyone had gotten absolutely pissed of their heads. You confessed your hatred for the act, but still Alexia would never let you have a drink when out. Only on the occasion would she pour you a small glass of something at home, where she could really keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay. It’s not like you were entirely innocent, you had gotten drunk a few times with your school friends, which always resulted in in a heavy scolding from Alexia and other teammates who she would dob on you to.
“Why don’t you have a drink Bebita, as a treat for your amazing work today” Alexia says, putting down her glass on the table, looking you in the eye.
You feel a smile approach your face. “are you sure?” you ask, that last thing you needed was Alexia telling you off the second you got home.
Instead of answering, she pushed a shot glass across the table. You look back, eyes wide as she nods her head. You lift the glass in your hands looking at it, questions your choices.
“Go on”
Your mouth feels hot as the liquid pours through your body, making you feel giddy. You screw you face up in discomfort. That was bad, but you somehow want more.
You sit in the booth for a bit, sipping on the cocktail Jenni had gotten you. Some of the girls had starting dancing, you yearned to join them, you feel like you have so much energy, like you could go all night.
“Voy a bailar” you announce, standing up, your legs leading you to the sound of the dance floor.
“Be careful y/n” someone says as you turn your back from the booth.
Your quick to find Ona and Ingrid on the floor, jumping with drinks in their hands, screaming the lyrics to the song playing. They pull you into them and once you start you don’t stop. You have always been a dancer at parties, much preferring it to sitting around talking. You dance your little heart out with the girls, a few more joining as the songs play, you feel like your spinning, strobe lights so bright you can’t see the person in front of you, it’s amazing. All you can hear is the screaming singing of your teammates and the random others around you.
“I’m getting another drink” Ingrid tells the group. “You want one?” she asks One who nods her head.
“Me too” you butt in. Ingrid smiles.
“Did Alexia say you could drink?” she questions with a raised brow.
“Yeah somehow” you answer.
“You better not be lying” she says as she begins to walk off.
“Would I ever” you yell back. She lets out a small laugh before walking away, rolling her eyes.
While you wait you head back to the booth to see some of the older girls, Aleixa, Jenni, Lucy and Frido look to be in deep discussion about who knows what. The current song playing is one you don’t know, so you take it as an excuse to take a break from the lights and loud music. As you get over, Lucy wraps and arm around your side from her sat position, not looking up from the conversation.
“Guys come dance” you begin to plead… “its so fun, stop being boring” your head is swaying from side to side as your words find themselves on your tongue.
The girls look up from their conversation at your pleading.
“In a bit Bonita” Frido replies, sharing a kind smile. Lucys thumb gently rubs your waist as she looks up at you.
“Aghhhhh” you roll your eyes and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling.
“Y/n, Drinks” you here Ingrid yell across the room, now connected at the hip to Mapi.
You begin the walk over to her, grabbing your drink saying thank you. You push down your fourth shot of the night and sip on the drink Ingrid had gotten you.
The booth, now absents by you, look at one and other.
“She is so drunk” Jenni says with a gentle laugh.
“She’s fine” Alexia says with a smile, lifting her glass to her lips. “It will teach her a lesson”.
Your still going, not a tired bone in your body, alcohol is fun.
“Omg I love with song” you scream with excitement in Onas’s ear as you dance along side one and other. You sing every lyric as if you had memorized the fast paced rap in the past. Yous hips move from side to side, arms in the air, hair down in the motion of it all. The girls are impressed with your non-stop energy.
Its all soon to turn south though, as you feel a pit in your stomach. Your head felt like it was being slammed into a wall. You attempt to dance the feeling away. It’s not working.
You’re on the floor of the club bathroom all too soon. Throwing up what felt like a lung. Your knees aching on the floor and face in hands, regret starts to hit.
The team, who were all keeping a very close eye on your energetic dancing frame all night were suddenly slightly panicked when you couldn’t be spotted in the crowed of dancers.
However, their concerns were quickly put to rest when Frido found you in the bathroom. She had walked in and called out your name.
“Y/n? You in here?” she yelled out.
You took a deep breath before calling back. “yeah” your voice is muffled from the throwing up and tears of pain. You don’t even hear her push to door of the cubical open, the only indicator that she is in the space with you being her front pressing against your back as she kneels done behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist.
“I feel like shit Frido” you say, placing your head back to lean on her shoulder. She stocks a hand along your forehead, down to your chin.
“I’m not surprised darling” she says gently. “Little miss energy has finally crashed”.
“I have not, I still want to dance” you whine, extending the last syllables.
“I think we better get you home little one” she says, looking down at your soft eyes.
“No, I want to dance” you say sitting up too fast, quickly leaning back against her.
“We can dance at Alexias, what do you think?” she bargains.
You let out a loud disapproving sigh, “As long as you promise”.
The car ride home was anything but uneventful. Lucy drives with Jenni is the passenger seat. You in the back, squeezed between Alexia and Frido. Your head is rested on Alexia as you quietly sing songs to yourself. None of the girls have told you to shut up, so you happily carry on. You do your little dancing in the back, enjoying yourself once again.
“Oh and the happy drunk is back” Jenni says with a playful eyeroll, looking at you in the mirror.
“She was never gone Jenni, just needed a rest” you snap back, getting a laugh from the women is the car. You bounce in your seat, regaining your energy.
“Lucyyyyy” to start, you can feel her eye roll.
“What little one?” she questions.
“Can we pull over; I want to dance” you start to beg.
“No darling, we are almost at Alexias, and we need to get you to bed” she says sternly.
“WHAT!” you whisper yell at the top of your whisper lungs. “Frido you LIAR” you say, almost in tears.
Frido mentally face palms herself. “We can still dance baby girl”.
You put your face into Alexias’s neck, upset. She pats your head at places kisses on your hairline.
Once you arrive back at home, Alexia picks you up and brings you inside, despite your protests. She sits you on the couch as Lucy grabs you some water, Jenni getting some vomit bags for the long night ahead.
Lucy hands Alexia the water, who then hands it to you.
“Drink” she says simply.
“Only if you promise I can dance” you snap back.
“Bebita, just drink the fucking water” Alexia instructs, frustrated.
“NO! I want confirmation that I get to dance” you say, acting like a smart ass, crossing your arms, tilting your chin up.
Alexia simply grabs the back of your neck in response, tilting you head up further, pressing the glass to your lips. You open you mouth as she slowly pours the water down your throat. Her tight grip on your hair relaxes when the glass is empty. She brings the glass down from your lips and presses a kiss on your forehead, contradicting her previous harsh movements.
“Good girl bebita” she says, nudging her thumb on your cheek. “Do you still want to dance, or would you prefer to get some rest?”
You look up at her with tired sleepy eyes, nudging yourself into her, she wraps her arms around you and lays you down on the couch. “You need to stay where we can see you for a bit, little one. Okay?”
You simply nod.
The four of them stay around for a bit longer while you sleep peacefully on the couch. They have a bit more to drink between them and gossip before Lucy, Jenni and Frido head home, all pressing a kiss on your sleeping face before saying goodnight.
Alexia is sat on the other side of the couch, staring directly at your sleeping body. All Alexia ever wanted to do was take care of you. She loves you so deeply. She thinks you are the strongest girl in the world, knowing what you have been though, yet you continue to keep a smile on not only your own face, the faces of those around you. She saw the way you never failed to make people laugh, even the shyest of people.
You begin to wake up, with the feeling of eyes on you. Alexia smiles at you with a tilt of her head.
“Let’s get you changed and in bed. Hm?” She says lifting you by the waist as you wrap your legs around her, head tucked into her neck.
You’re soon changed and snuggled into your bed. Alexia sits on the end of it, watching you fall softly in and out of sleep before she gets up to leave for her own bed.
“Wait Alexia” she spins, it’s the first words she’s heard you say in a few hours. “Can you stay, I don’t feel good on my own tonight” you explain.
She lets out a loud breath, making her way back towards you. “Scoot over then” she says lifting the covers and laying done behind you, you roll over, so your face is in her chest. Her arms wrap around you and pull you closer.
“Goodnight Bebita”
“Night Alexia”
#barcelona x reader#woso#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas smut#lucybronze#barca femeni#barca x reader
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Reunion | dob
Word Count: 4.6k
Rating: M
Summary: Doesn't matter how long you've waited for it; it's always worth it. | Also on Ao3!
Warnings: (the usual, minors dni etc) praise, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex (+creampie), marking??, pretty boy is always in charge <3, overstimulation, brief somnophilia + masturbation mentions, they're so in love, no use of y/n as always
A/N: this is my belated x(xx)mas gift to u. mwah
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself, not really.
It was always like this. Maybe it would’ve worked if your back was flat against your mattress, in solitude at eleven at night. You always fell asleep, so content, within minutes. But succumbing to your desires, utilizing your free will to make yourself tremble and squirm during the daylight hours of three in the afternoon while he’s out there, so sexy and so unaware… it was over as soon as you turned the faucet to hot.
There was nothing like cumming in the shower; maybe it was the adrenaline of holding yourself upright at the risk of shattering the glass door or maybe it was the rough pulse setting of your showerhead. Who knows.
There couldn’t have been a better–more scorching–late spring afternoon after days of uncharacteristic gloom. Your late-morning was spent lounging by the pool, grazing on cubed pineapple and hiding greedy looks at Dylan’s body behind your sunglasses. It’d been nearly a week since you’d last had him; he was fresh off a red-eye from his sibling’s birthday celebrations on the east coast. The early flight, coupled with Tommy’s insistence on taking him to a show at a bar in the East Village last night, meant he was schlubbing around all day, falling in and out of a day-long nap. You could admit it was cute when he dozed off on the lounge chair, cap brim low on his face and chin on his chest, but it reached a breaking point when you were sprawled on the couch together, his large hand cupping your breast and a soft snore in your ear. His grip was loose, allowing you to slide easily from his arms, slink to your room, and grab your bathrobe.
Your skin felt warm when you stepped onto the cool tile, still deciding between waiting it out and dealing with the thud in your cunt. You stood beneath the stream, feeling the hot water funnel into the main line as the shower temperature quickly rose from frigid to steaming. You were focused at first, fingers diligently massaging shampoo into your scalp, but they roamed a little further while you scrubbed your torso. With a sigh, you reached for the chrome showerhead and twisted to change the water pressure. It’s quick, you thought. He’d likely still be asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so gorgeous but so unavailable.
And it was quick, but it also left your knees rattling and head spinning from the thick, waterlogged air. Tiny shockwaves are still traveling up your body when you step out onto the plush bath mat, intensifying as the cold bathroom air rushes past your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A tiny whine escapes your lips as you shimmy into your fleece bathrobe and wrap a towel around your head. Looking at yourself in the mirror is a struggle of its own, a visible warmth spread across your face and a well-bitten bottom lip alerting you to the levels of your own arousal. You grunt when you step away, attempting to designate your urges to after dinner, and instead thinking about if you need to take anything out of the freezer to defrost.
“Hi,” Dylan’s soft greeting is a surprise when you step out of the bathroom into your shared bedroom. He’s lying on his side, head resting on his elongated arm and phone screen-down on the bed. His eyes look tired, but his silhouette glows in the light from the window. Dark green sweatpants hang low on his hips, exposing the elastic of his underwear.
“Hi.” You hang your hair towel up behind the bathroom door and begin to walk towards him. “Looking for me?”
“Mmhm.” You twirl a lock of his chestnut hair around your pointer finger, enjoying the length before he inevitably buzzes it all off. “S’boring out there, every episode of Curb is the same.”
“Yeah?” He shifts, sitting up to swing his legs over the side of the bed and face you. “You know what happened during the episodes you were asleep for?” Your hand is in his and he pulls it to rest on his cheek.
“Yeah.” He smiles up at you. “Larry David acts like an asshole, gets what he deserves, goofy end credits song, repeat.” You refrain from rolling your eyes as you settle into his lap, your knees on either side of his body.
“Hm. You’re right,” you mumble between pressing kisses into the scratchy skin of his cheek. One of his hands settles comfortably on your lower back. “That’s it? You came to find me because you were bored?”
“I missed you.” Dylan’s free hand travels up your thigh until he is forearm-deep beneath your robe. “Woke up an’ you were gone.” The water droplets on your skin provide no retaliation to his hot breath on your neck. Something about it makes you want to curve your spine to press your chest to his. Would he feel the rattle behind your breastbone? Could he feel the heat from between your legs, so deftly pressed against the lump in the front of his sweatpants? “Had a dream about you.”
You’re certain now you’re both on the same page, but you pull back and narrow your eyes at him anyway. “Just now?” He narrows his eyes right back at you, a playful smile teasing the corners of his lips. His eyes are a decadent shade of brown as they gaze sleepily into yours.
“Maybe it’s been recurrent.” He shrugs as if he has no clue what you’re talking about, but you catch a glint of mischief in his look. His hands are moving now, one groping your outer thigh and the other fiddling with the fabric rope keeping your bathrobe tied shut.
You almost fall into him at that moment. The flood between your legs only feels more and more apparent since you’d hooked the shower head to its mount and twisted the faucet tightly to the left. Instead of finding comfort against his mouth or alerting him to the wet spot you’re leaving in his lap, you blurt out, “You wanna tell me about it?”
“Would rather show you.” His lips lock onto yours, arms pressing your body into his, molding yourself around him. He’s diligent and in control, mouth firm and domineering against yours. His tongue is soft and wetter than yours, with access to it allowing you to taste a hint of sweetness and tobacco. His hands roam dutifully across the hems of your garment, pushing the fabric off your shoulder and loosening the belt around your waist. Dylan’s back falls to the bed, tugging you down with him. Your robe is splayed open now, caught on your shoulders and thighs. His mouth disconnects from yours to watch you, properly feel you softly grinding yourself against him. It’s almost enough to make you self conscious, but his gaze is always so soft when you’re at your most vulnerable. He doesn’t haphazardly grasp at your body as you lean over him; his hands are deliberately placed on your upper thighs, ghosting feather-light circles into your skin. The sensation makes you slightly ticklish, immediately sending electricity up your spine and goosebumps rippling across your skin. How he knew that would get your nipples pointed and directly in front of his face, you’d never know. You’re not being watched by Dylan, you’re being seen. “You like using me, huh angel?” It’s posed as a question, but you don’t need to answer. You just press your hands to his stomach, your center to the firm bulge in his pants. “Mine,” he says quietly to himself, greedily holding you by your hips and guiding your movements. It’s not enough, but you can feel a pool slowly form in your lower stomach as he works your cunt against his increasingly hard cock. His hips press harder into yours as he moves, fucking into you. You surrender control over your core to him entirely, letting him scrape his clothed cock into your swollen center, twitching when he’d move just right. Your nails leave crescent shaped marks as you hold tightly to his sides. You’re trembling, soft sighs escaping your lips with each swipe of his hips. “Is this really how you wanna cum, sweetheart? Like you’re a teenager again, can’t control yourself?” The condescension dripping from his tongue is almost enough to send you over the edge right then and there. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” You whimper pitifully as he halts your movements and pushes you onto your back.
“Thought you’d take it as a compliment if I came on your pants.” Your breathing is shallow, eyes watching the way he leans over you, caging you onto the bed with his body.
“Mm.” Dylan’s thinking about it, even if he’s pretending to be preoccupied with touching you. The shift in his eye contact and slight bob in his throat is what gives him away. “Yeah… I have some other ideas, though.” He absentmindedly traces up your stomach, under your breasts, to your collarbone. “My dream, remember?” His tired eyes shine as they look down at you. He is deliberate in his touches, your skin sensitive and lower abdomen incredibly keyed-up.
“I’ve been so good,” you pant, letting your hands roam across the firmness of his chest to his shoulders, then his triceps. “Missed you.”
“I believe it,” he says off-handedly, too busy determining whether to attack your collarbone with his tongue or his teeth. “Thank you for picking me up from the airport this morning.” The sentence comes out muffled; he chose teeth.
“You’re so welcome,” you sigh. “But that’s not what I meant.” You hook your right knee around his thigh and he holds it in place. “You’ve been so busy snoozin’... I’m feeling a little neglected.” He licks his lips as he stares down at you. You’re looking up at him from beneath your lashes, seemingly too bashful for what stumbles from your mouth next. “Maybe it’s unfair, but I was hoping you’d fuck me when we got home this morning.” His eyes, calculating and a remarkably burnt umber color, remain steady as they bore into yours. He’s always so much better at this than you are. “Maybe in front of the mirror by the entryway.” You swallow. Your voice is small, mind distant with nothing but his body keeping you grounded in reality. “Or against the front door.” You guide his hand down your stomach, over your stubbly pubic mound to the dampness that has been accumulating for what feels like hours. It probably has been hours. His eyebrows shoot up. It was only seven in the morning when you’d gotten back, the golden warmth of sunrise peeking through the ornate crystal gaps in your wooden front door. Dylan looked beautiful in the light, especially with a duffel over his shoulder and raccoon circles around his eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart.” You feel yourself falling into your favorite dynamic as your senses become overloaded with him. Dylan is bigger than you’d think from afar, experiencing no issue trapping you between his arms and beneath his body; his gentle breathing, smelling faintly of spearmint and American Spirits, fans over your skin. He’s looking at you like you’re dinner, but something in his eyes tells you he’s going to savor it. “You’ve been so patient, haven’t you?” The hand you placed over your cunt is lazily spreading your pleasure between your folds, brushing past your clit and occasionally circling your trembling hole at excruciating intervals. His other hand travels everywhere, brushing wet hair from your face to ghosting around your neck and gently caressing your breasts. “All day, bet you were soaked for me the whole time, my good girl.” Your eyes roll back and you feel your chest cave in with your breath. “You could’ve said something, y’know.” It comes out almost like a purr and electricity zips up your spine.
“If you hadn’t passed out every fifteen minutes,” you bite. He pinches your nipple sharply between his pointer finger and thumb in response to your attitude, resulting in a yelp escaping your throat. Luckily, it’s the only punishment you get.
“Baby, you know what you want is always alright with me.” You swallow as you watch him intently, your eyes flickering between his eyes and lips, unsure of his next move. “You know how incredible it would’ve been,” he pauses his movements between your legs and shifts his arms to the sides of your head before continuing, “seeing you needing me, in my sleep, taking me like I know you can… to wake up to you messy, doe-eyed, and gagging all over me?” Your face is hot, you’re sweating, and you’re squirming under his firm gaze. “You’d like that too, huh? Be honest, my love. You trust me, don’t you?” His voice is satiny to your ears. Your vision is blurred by pure adrenaline and adoration. The dryness in your mouth prevents speech, but you nod weakly, ready to succumb to whatever he wants to do. “Say it.” His fingers press into your cheeks and puff your lips forward. “You’ll get anything you want as long as you keep talking, keep telling me how much you want it.” His hand rests gently on your mound, feeling like a promise.
“Yes.” It’s hoarse, but it’s there. “Yes, please.”
“I want to hear you, okay? I know you love it, angel, but I need to hear how good I can make my pretty girl feel.” His voice falls to a whisper. “You don’t know how hard it is to be away from you.” Dylan is always like this after returning from a trip, thoughts jumbled from lustfully depraved and tenderly sweet, fighting urges that exist somewhere in between. “No one is like you…” He loses himself in the kisses he’s pressing to your shoulder, your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. “No one can make me feel the way you do.” His hands move sporadically across your torso, grasping at your skin haphazardly. “Not in this lifetime, anyway.”
You whine at his touch and words, head spinning but wholly devoted to him. “I love you.” It comes out quietly, a pledge kept solely between you two. A layer of static feels like it is embedded into the top layer of your skin. His fingers are gentle and precise; his pointer and middle finger nestle themselves comfortably around your clit, squeezing occasionally as he moves his fingers vertically. There’s no chance you’ll last under these conditions and there’s no way he doesn’t know it. You’re not in control of your movements against his fingers; you’d be embarrassed by the arhythmic pace of your hips, but you’re too honed in to his touch to care. You’re not even sure what you’re doing, but you know his eyes are illuminated by the light from the window and the look he’s giving you is all-consuming. You also know it feels good. “Dylan,” you whisper. You move your hands from his neck to his shoulder and bicep; he may like being scratched and squeezed, but it doesn't mean he wants a punctured jugular. “I don’t think–” A soft gasp bubbles up your throat. The sheer consistent repetitive movement of his fingers are increasingly enough.
“It’s okay… it’s okay.” Dylan’s mouth covers yours, almost overwhelmingly. His breath is hot as it mingles with yours, your tongue desperately needy in his mouth. The knee hooked around his thigh shifts to rest on his lower back. Your hand slides from his bicep, down the front of his chest rather clumsily until it reaches the elastic of his sweatpants. A frustrated rumble emanates from your chest. You’re surprised he’s had the self control to keep them on this long, especially given the tent he was pitching. Your hand breaches the drawstring, fingers dipping past the elastic of his underwear. “You wan’ me to feel you, sweetheart?” He nips at your bottom lip, already so raw you taste a metallic warmth slowly dripping into your mouth as soon as his teeth make contact. Something about the action and the sharp, but sweet flavor on your tongue feels carnal, your mind sinking to its most feral form. Your fingers dip entirely into his tight boxers, thumb spreading the stickiness from his slit to the bottom of his head. His hips jerk slightly to your touch and your second hand slinks to palm the hot girth in his pants. “Always so considerate, my girl’s always thinking of me.” You nod, out of breath and drunk on the feeling of his middle finger being smoothly inserted into your slick. When he’s successfully knuckle deep, he pulls out and reinserts, adding his pointer finger. You can’t control the sounds that leak from your mouth when he licks at the droplets of blood that have re-emerged from the cracks in your lips. “It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. Let go for me.” He taps his thumb on your bud and you grip tightly to his fingers. You feel ragged, tired from both incessantly thinking about being your boyfriend’s little fuck doll and actually following through on your shared desire. The pool in your lower stomach has only been expanding, tendrils of pleasure seeping up your back, through your limbs. There’s no way to hold on, not with his voice in your ear and his fingers in your cunt. “Promise next time it’ll be around my cock, but I need you to come now.” With a final flick at your clit, at his instruction, the dam breaks. Your hips flick forward, back arching to press your stomach firmly into him. The trembling in your thighs feels like it rocks through your whole body. His fingers fuck you through it, the squelching noises almost embarrassingly sinful. You’re leaking as Dylan pulls his fingers out from your center, coated in your own creaminess. He presses them into your mouth, watching intently as you circle them with your tongue. He seems satisfied by your method, pulling the fingers out and replacing them with a quick peck. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, brushing against his with each breath. “My girl,” he breathes. “My girl, my good girl.” His thumb gently caresses the upper part of your cheek.. “I love you. You’re gonna give it to me again, sweetheart.”
“Off,” you mumble as your hands shakily tug at his underwear. He assists, shooing your hands away to swiftly remove himself of his garments. You use the shift in his weight and attention to your advantage, pushing Dylan onto his back. He’s gorgeous–looking angelically warm in the afternoon light and body hair deliciously untrimmed. You swallow the saliva that floods your mouth as your vision hones in on the twitching, sticky cock resting on his stomach. It’s pure instinct, the way you lean over his lower half, tongue readily lubricating his tip. You pump your spit down his shaft until you’re able to get the first four inches into your mouth.
“I don’t think this was part of my dream, pretty girl.” His verbal attempt at protest is weak while his hand is firmly in your still-damp hair, steadying your head to take him further. In response, you reshift your tongue’s focus to his head, while your saliva-coated hands tug at the base of his cock and balls.
“It’s not a dream of yours to get head from me?” You look up at him for only a few seconds, caught in his lidded yet bemused gaze, before redirecting your attention back to your favorite plaything.
“Definitely not what I meant. You’re…” He trails off and pulls your head up by your hair. His hand moves to cup your jaw, his thumb wiping spit off your chin. “Come here. Would rather finish inside of you.” There’s nothing he can say that you won’t agree to. Especially not the most fulfilling way of feeling his. You clamber up his torso and he sits up to meet you in the middle. You unceremoniously fist his dick, swiping his head through your folds and beginning to press it into your core. From your perspective, playtime is over; no need to drag it out further when it’s already been a week without each other. “Eht–! Tsk.” His hand is on your throat, lifting you slightly as he pulls his head out from your quivering hole. It falls onto his stomach with a wet, heavy thud. “Let me.” Your jaw is slack, breath whizzing past your lips as your pussy clenches at the loss of his stretch. He lets go of your neck, moving his hand down to the hollow of your collarbone. Gently, he pushes your shoulder, body falling backwards onto the bed. He towers over you, perfectly silhouetted in front of the window. He pauses after placing his hands on your inner thighs and spreading you, one knee perpendicular to your crotch and the other pulled up by your shoulder. His fingers glide across the smooth skin of your inner thighs without purpose.
You jokingly rasp, “Won’t let me be in charge, but you haven’t decided what you’re gonna do to me?” He shifts his gaze from your little box, gaping and thumping for him, and narrows his eyes at you.
“Debating if I’m gonna break my promise or not.” Your heart nearly stops.
“What do you mean?” The fingers on your left hand tangle with his as you stare, wide eyed at his pretty, stubbly face. There’s no possibility he wouldn’t finish the job, not by now. He crouches further down the bed, head nearly resting on your lower stomach.
“You think you can handle three today for me, sweetheart?” Oh. His face is so close, you can feel his cool breathing against your warm dampness. You swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll get to it eventually, I swear.” His fingers spread you open and he leaves a soft kiss on your clit. “Jus’ missed you. Please?”
“Yes,” you breathe. He wastes no time pressing his flat tongue along the entirety of your slick. “Whatever you want.”
He groans in protest, the vibrations making you gasp. “Whatever you want.” Your hands find his hair, a little oily and just long enough that he looks ruggedly sexy when his beard is grown out. He’s going for the gold, suckling and circling your clit directly with his tongue, well aware that you’re sensitive enough to flood his mouth in under a minute if he plays his cards right. It’s an ego thing for him, knowing exactly how to take care of you. He’s certain no one could make you fall apart the way he can and today he would prove it to himself again. Prove it to you. “You’ve been so lonely without me, huh?” His tongue flicks slow down, but the pressure against your slit increases. “How many nights did you go to bed thinking the time difference fucked you over? Did you think of me when you couldn’t get me on the phone?”
“Dylan.” A wringing motion comes from deep inside of your gut, alerting you to your incoming orgasm.
“Answer me.” His stern voice cuts through the air and reverberates against your cunt. “I know your fingers aren’t enough. Were you left unsatisfied without me here to make you feel good?”
“Yes,” you pant. “I need you. All I can do is think about you when you’re gone. Please keep going, I need you.” He places his thumb right above your clit and pulls to stretch it upwards. With one final thick swipe of his tongue, he has your eyes rolling and fingers pulling his hair. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, pressing his face further into your flooding core as your hand holds him exactly where it feels best. He’s literally moaning into you as he laps you up, occasionally praising your receptiveness and taste. When you let go of his hair and begin to jerk your hips away from his face, he pulls away.
“Good?” He sits up and wipes his mouth on his forearm. You nod weakly, hands wobbly as you attempt to touch his knees. You’re pounding and leaking still, limbs incredibly heavy. With no hesitation, he presses his cock into your weary little hole, messy and slick from your cum and his spit. All of the air rushes from your lungs when he bottoms out.
“S-so sensitive, Dyl,” you whine.
“One more for me. You want it, don’t you?” You tighten around him as he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “Breathe. I’ll take you through it.” He reaches a comfortable pace, fast enough to override the overstimulated numbness but not painful in its force. Each deep thrust scrapes his pubic bone against your button, making you feel like you’re glitching in and out of existence.The pillow to your left disappears and, while still inside of you, Dylan lifts your hips to place it beneath you. You’re wide open for him now, hips tilted up as he changes his angle and begins to slap himself into you. “So good for me, taking me so well. You’re tired aren’t you, baby? Waitin’ on me all day…” Your noises only get louder as he pokes the fleshy roof of your cunt. “We’re almost done,” he coos. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you hiccup. You’re holding onto his forearms, still trembling. “Please, faster. I need it but it feels, I feel so–”
“Okay, honey. Just trust me, alright?” Dylan’s lips purse and a glob of saliva falls from his lips to where your bodies meet. He uses a finger to spread it around, then holds your hips by the curvature of your lower back. He grinds you against him with each full-length thrust, his spit messily coating your point of contact. He doesn’t even pull out anymore, just pushing himself as deeply as possible inside of you. Your ankles link together behind his back, pressing him so deep you can feel a tingly pressure next to your cervix. It almost hurts, the feeling shooting between your pussy and your brain. He spits again, harder this time, directly onto your clit. The pace of his hips combined with a quick pinch of his fingers sends you over the edge without warning. Your final orgasm rips a small cry from deep in your chest, whole body vibrating as you clench around the hot girth inside of you. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, your body feeling tight and loose at the same time, alive and dead. In purgatory, maybe. “Fuck.” He grunts and presses himself as deeply as he can, spurting hot stickiness as your orgasm milks him. “‘It’s like you were made for me, swear to God.” Your body relaxes as he claims you, filling you to satisfaction. He pumps into you a few times, coating your inner and outer cunt with his essence. His body covers yours completely, kissing you as he continues to lazily thrust. Your hands roam his back, arms, and hair as he continues to purposelessly move inside of you. It’s hard to take a deep breath; you’re still trying to address the trembling in your limbs and stretch in your core.
“Missed you.” It’s all you can muster. Your brain and body are composed of nothing but mush and Dylan.
“Missed you.” He’s smiling, eyes shining happily as they look at your weary face.
“Can we cuddle?” He nods and almost laughs, pressing a final kiss to your cheek. The air feels cold against you when he sits up and pulls out.
“Stay right there, gonna get a towel.” He squeezes your hand as he stands from the bed. You watch him saunter towards the bathroom and your eyes snap all the way open when he grabs the towel you’d been using for your hair.
“Dylan–!”
ermmm anyway so. ty for reading <3 as always, i'll love u forever if u like, rb, and/or lmk what u think :) (this is a sideblog so i cant respond to replies but i see them and ily)
#someone tell me how i feel ab this\#it's good i think but too fresh. might edit it some more in the coming days as i nitpick#dylan o'brien smut#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi smut#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien x reader
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Makeup Surprise
Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader
Summary: You and your brother Jack surprise your dad with a makeover.
———
You and Jack quietly tip-toed into your father's room, the soft padding of your socked feet was almost silent against the floorboards. You had your little makeup kit clutched tightly in your tiny toddler hands, while Jack was your enthusiastic accomplice.
With barely contained excitement, you approached the bed with a little giggle. Your sparky blue Cinderella princess dress was proving a challenge as you tried to climb onto the bed, the dress making you slip. Jack being a great big brother, pushed you up onto the bed with all his 5-year-old strength then climbed onto the bed himself. You both turned to each other with cheeky grins and little giggles escaping your mouth.
You leaned forward, looking at Aaron’s face as he slept. You turned to Jack again. “Shhhh, Daddy sleeping.” You put your finger to your lips to make a shushing gesture.
Jack nodded and opened the makeup kit. “Do it quietly N/N, he’s gonna wake up.”
Your giggles bubbled over as you carefully dipped your tiny fingers into the assortment of colourful powders and glosses. With delicate precision, you began to apply them to your father's sleeping face, your movements exaggeratedly careful as you concentrated on creating a masterpiece.
You smeared a glob of pink sparkly lipstick onto Aaron’s cheek, your little tongue sticking out in pure concentration. “He gonna be pretty like princess.” You smiled in pride.
Jack nodded and he grabbed a small brush, gathering some eyeshadow and making a long line across his forehead. “You are very good at this.”
As the soft bristles of the brush touched his skin, Aaron stirred slightly, but he kept his eyes closed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the weight of his children's presence in the room, their excitement palpable in the air.
Jack, unable to contain his laughter any longer, let out a soft snicker, which only fueled your enthusiasm. With renewed vigour, you continued your work, your little fingers back to dipping into pots of shimmering eyeshadow and tubes of brightly coloured lipstick.
Aaron pretended to be asleep, his chest shaking silently with suppressed laughter as he felt the long careful strokes of your finger across his face. He could hear Jack's giggles growing louder, his son's amusement infectious.
Jack dipped his finger in the palette, grabbing a giant glob of it and making little stars on Aaron’s cheek with it. You smiled in pride. “You making him look fabulous, Jackie!” Jack nodded and handed the brush over to you.
Finally, you announced triumphantly, "All done!" your voice was filled with pride as you admired your handiwork, your eyes shining with delight.
Aaron couldn't keep up the charade any longer. With a dramatic yawn, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting the gleeful expressions of his children. "Good morning, what are you guys doing in here?" he said, his voice filled with fake curiosity.
You and Jack burst into fits of laughter, your joy filling the room while Jack pointed his finger at you.
“It was Y/N's idea! She just made me help.” You looked at him with an expression like he was crazy that he just dobbed on you.
As Aaron sat up, his face adorned with a rainbow of colours and globs of glitter from his daughter's makeup kit, he smirked slightly at you.
“Oh, I see. Did you at least make me look pretty?” He asked and raised an eyebrow.
You nodded vigorously and grabbed out your little mirror, showing him. “Seee! You so pretty, like princess!” You grinned and let out a giggle.
Giggles continued to fill the room as Aaron wrapped his arms around his kids. Even after long exhausting cases that drained him, he could never stop loving spending time with his children.
#daughter!reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x daughter!reader#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotchner x child!reader#criminal minds#criminal minds aaron hotchner#jack hotchner#child!reader
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AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - EPILOGUE
Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Indentifying! Reader
Summary: Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Warnings are very spoiler, so well...be warned! Cancer, death, alcoholism, mentions of suicide (not by main characters and is mentioned once at the end), and overall a very bittersweet ending. Beware! This is in fact sad!
Notes: for real, the end? it's here. not going to lie, i did get a little emotional writing this. the epilogue is loosely inspired by american prometheus, which made me cry in it's epilogue, just as it is doing to me now. this story has been such a rollercoaster, and I've had an amazing time writing it. thank you all for the amazing support, you guys really rock. I'm starting school soo and I'll be busy, but I'll get back into writing once i find my routinr. i hope you can enjoy this conclusion, and as a warning, apologies in advance! I love you all very much, and thank you so much for all the love!
Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelby @chloriine36 @kodzuvk @amanda08319
Taglist | Masterlist
Marriage Certificate
Jurisdiction: Charlottesville, Virginia
Certificate Number: MCS123456789
Date of Marriage: June 1st, 1955
This is to certify that on the aforementioned date, in accordance with the laws of the City of Charlottesville, the following individuals entered into marriage:
Groom:
Name: Julius Robert Oppenheimer
Date of Birth: April 22, 1904
Residence: 91 Olden Lane
Bride:
Name: (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/l/n)
Date of Birth: (Y/dob), 1921
Residence: 105 Ivy Dr
Marriage Ceremony:
Date and Time: June 1st, 1955, at 5:00 PM
Officiant: Dr. Allen Hill
Title: Authorized Officiant
Witnesses:
Name: (y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n)
Address: 10 Pennsylvania Avenue
Name: Hatomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell
Address: 600 Dittmar Oaks
Under penalty of perjury, the undersigned parties declare that the information provided above is true and correct to the best of their knowledge.
Signatures:
_____________________________ _____________________________
Julius Robert Oppenheimer (Y/n) (Y/m/n) (Y/L/N)
Groom's Signature Bride's Signature
_____________________________
Dr. Allen Hill
Officiant's Signature
_____________________________ _____________________________
(y/b/n) (y/b/m/n) (y/l/n) Hitomi Haruka Yamamoto-Bell
Witness's Signature Witness's Signature
Seal: City of Charlottesville, Virginia
–
You and Robert married the same day of your graduation at UVA on June 1st, 1955. You let your parents know about your marriage and plans to move to Princeton. It took them time to process that you married your Physics Professor, but they accepted it once they met Robert and were impressed. They also enjoyed that you were only a train ride away from the city of Princeton.
Robert kept to his promise of no more games. He stayed loyal and steadfast and was honest and loving to you. He doted on and adored you, showering you with both affection and gifts. You had kept all of the gifts he had given you at Berkeley, occasionally using the new perfumes if you couldn’t look for all of the new floral scents Robert had bought for you. Despite you both being busy with your jobs at Princeton and the local private high school, you two found time for each other.
Your time together reminded you of those Friday study sessions at Berkeley, where you were a young girl and Robert was your professor who had been struck by “one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen”. Robert had helped you become a woman, and despite how many times you and he tried to move, you always fell back to each other.
With your newfound marriage, you and Robert could be in public together. Of course, there was scrutiny and controversy of the age gap and both of your involvement with the Manhattan project. Still, Robert could hold your hand, and you could lean on his shoulder. Sure, there stares, but those could easily be ignored. At the many lavish dinners you attend, Robert would put his hand on your hip and whisper into your ear nothing but sweet yet dirty thoughts. You’d look at all of the judgemental onlookers, and simply hugged Robert, brightly smiling at them.
It was one of those nights. It was like your Friday nights, but extended; talking about the day full of academics, making a delicious dinner, cleaning up said dinner, fucking either by the fire or on the bed, and lazing in each other’s embrace.
You had your back curled to Robert as he held you. That one night, he let go for a short second, before you felt a cold metal on your neck and the sound of a clink of a clasp.
“I saw this, and it made me think of you and the Bhagavad Gita,” Robert explained as he moved your hair back forward, “Do you like it?”
The necklace was a short gold chain with a pendant of the seven Chakras. You run your hand hovering the expensive gold and gems inside, smiling to yourself. You turn to Robert and place a peck on his lips, admiring the beautiful necklace.
“It’s beautiful, Robert. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”
You repeat this sentence over and over as you wrap your arms around his neck, throwing him down to the bed and decorating his body with kisses. Ultimately, the two of you end of lovemaking once again, and remind yourselves to rewash the sheets. Again.
The next week, you are forced to rewash your sheets as Robert, per usual, fucks you after the University of Washington last minute declines his offer to speak at their commencement ceremony. Like old times, you claw your nails down his neck and scream his name until he finishes inside of you, making your belly feel all warm. You smile and hope, for once, there’s some good news for the future continuation of you and Robert.
It takes many tries, but on January 5th of 1958, you give birth to Thaïs Jackie Oppenheimer. She’s a healthy baby girl. You nearly died giving birth, but it was worth seeing her curl into Robert’s arms as if it were a natural instinct. Even as a child, she’s got the blue Oppenheimer’s eyes and your fiery personality. After Thaïs birth, you remained in the ICU for a while. In a window outside of your room, you would see Robert in the distance as he overlooked Thaïs bed, talking to her and promising her nothing but the world. In your recovering pain, it made you cry.
Eventually, you returned back to work as a school-teacher, splitting your time with the au-pair while taking care of Thaïs. She’s a very vocal child, and like Robert, highly precocious. By the time she’s six, she can name every rock and flower in your garden by their scientific name. Not to mention, she can hold more basic conversation in Latin and Greek than you, thanks to Robert and his bedtime stories of Ancient Latin and Greek myths.
Dinner is a family affair. As the three of you all cook, you find it hard to keep up with Robert and Thaïs’s long conversation that switches between Greek and Latin, ranging from what to next in meal prep, the rocks Thaïs’s collected at school today, and what toy Robert will buy her next if she behaves. You can follow the basics, but you smile and keep yourself, cooing and kissing your newborn baby boy, Elias.
Each night, Robert worships you like you’re a goddess. As you read his book recommendations, he decorates your body with kisses and calls you his “temple”, thanking you for being the Athena to his Prometheus and giving him life. You could not be happier.
But bliss is temporal, not everlasting.
First, it’s the apparent hoarseness. Robert thinks it’s cold, but that’s until he’s coughing up blood two weeks later. Also, with the neck and ear pain, you grow worried, and unfortunately, your worst fears come to light. Robert’s heavy smoking did not help his case, and in late 1965, he was diagnosed with throat cancer.
You had quit smoking a long time ago, long before the birth of your children, but Robert continued. Since you had met him, he had always been a smoker no matter what, falling from a cigarette pack to multiple pipes a day. The cancer is infectious and both of you know it’s in fact very bad, and it’s only going to continue to get worse but not fast, but slowly and painfully. Robert has a persistent cough in which he tries to hide from you and the children but fails to. His skin becomes as gray as his thinning hair, and he’s losing weight faster than you can count.
After his diagnosis, there are many sleepless nights between you and Robert. You are both worried about each other in your own ways. One particular night, Robert sits on the edge of the bed. The bones in his back are visible, and you feel like you can see the bones in his back. He’s handsome, but so terribly sick all at once. Crawling from under the sheets, you quietly crawl toward him and hug him from behind. You sob into his shoulders, and he grabs your arms.
“Stop worrying,” He reassures you as he kisses your shaking palm, “You’ll be okay, love.”
“Robert, stop. It’s not about me. It’s about you,” You sob uncontrollably, “I’m scared, Robert. Not for you, for me.”
That night, Robert holds you and tells you that things will improve. He doesn’t promise it, though.
In late 1966, Robert underwent surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, which were all unsuccessful.
Robert has done so much for you and protected you from so much. Now, it’s your turn to do so.
When he breaks the news that, realistically, he’s going to die within the next six months, you and his plan to bring Thaïs and Elias to Saint John.
Robert can’t do the things he used to do. Robert is still as handsome as he always has been, but he’s more frail and sickly looking, a shell of the man he once was. The only thing he can do is spend time with you and his children, valuing his time, which is running out faster than he can count. He builds wooden lodges with houses with Elias, collects seashells and rocks with Elias, and lies in your lap as you read him all of the old books and Greek myths the two of you used to read together.
Robert tries to make you a Martini one night, but he struggles in the kitchen. A glass drops and you run in, to find both of his hands shaking. He confesses to you that he can’t keep his hands still, and he can’t stop apologizing after. You smile, holding back tears, telling him it’s okay.
You, Robert, and your family soon return to Princeton. At that time, you call and invite people who are close to you, Robert, so he gets the chance to say goodbye. Kitty and his children come by. They're as devastated as you are, but they thank you. Kitty, for the first time, cries in front of you, and says you have a beautiful family; thanking you for taking care of Robert. You break down in front of her, and Kitty hugs you.
It’s clear that Robert’s in his final days of life. He can’t remember or speak coherently as he used to. Your children are very aware of this, and you prepare them for the worst that is to come.
It’s nighttime, and Robert’s in bed, saying he’s going to read a book that you’d enjoyed. You make him peppermint tea downstairs to help him fall asleep. As you make the tea, you can hear Robert’s horse voice as he talks to their children. If you bend your ear further, you can hear his voice shaking as he tells his children that he loves them more than anything, and to treat you, their mother, with nothing but love and respect.
You go upstairs with the tea you’ve prepared for Robert. He thanks you and smiles as if he’s seen you for the first time, refusing to let go of your hand with a weak grasp. As you change quickly into your pajamas, you jump into bed with him and hold him carefully, not wanting to hurt him.
“Sweetling?” He says your term of endearment in a sing-song voice. You look up, fully attentive.
“Yes, Oppie?”
With a trembling hand, he holds out an aged navy book with gold print; Hades and Persephone.
“Can you please read this to me?”
Once you grasp the book, tears begin to form in your eyes. As much as you want to cry, you hold your tears back and nod your head. Leaning against Robert, you open to the book’s preface and see all of his annotations inside. Some of them are about you. You’re about to start reading when Robert, in his classic fashion, grabs your hand and holds it to his chest.
“Y/n?”
You don’t look over as you close your eyes.
“Yes, Robert?”
“I love you, y/n”
A tear falls down your cheek, but you don’t let Robert see it.
“I love you too, Robert.”
That night, Robert falls into a coma. Three days later, he dies. He was sixty-two years old.
Once you have the funeral and dump his ashes into the US Virgin Islands water, you and your two children move down to Williamsburg, Virginia. You don’t want to be in Princeton anymore, as if it reminds you of Robert. Your family recommends you move back to New York City or Charlottesville, but you refuse; they all have Robert’s name written on it.
In Williamsburg, you grieve heavily at losing your first and only love, but motherhood keeps you busy. You get a job as an assistant professor at William and Mary, and just as you usually do, you cope with the pain until it becomes numb, losing yourself in your work and children. It’s what Robert would want for you.
Each night, after you make dinner by yourself, you go to your room and drink, reading all of Robert’s books from his reading list that shaped his mind.
One night, you’re drunk and sad. You’re primarily drunk at night, hazy and unaware, but some nights you are sad, not always. A ten-year-old Elias walks into your room, asking why you are crying so much.
For a second, you think he’s Robert with his big blue eyes and puff of dark hair, which makes you sob even more.
After Robet’s death, Kitty writes to you frequently to ensure you’re doing okay alone with the kids. You write back, and in her final years, the two of you build a friendship until her untimely death in 1972. You speak at her funeral and say in your speech that you hope she’s reunited with Robert.
Thaïs and Elias both grow into fine adults. Thaïs goes to study chemistry and history at Davis while Elias studies nuclear physics at Princeton, which you know would make Robert proud of both of them.
Toni, Oppenheimer’s daughter from Kitty’s marriage, committed suicide in 1977. Robert gave her the ranch in New Mexico. Peter refuses to take it, so it’s given to Thaïs. For Thanksgiving and Christmas, you meet Thaïs and Elias there to celebrate the holidays, taking them horseback riding to explore the beauty of New Mexico that Robert once showed to you.
Thaïs and Elias grow old, and have their own lifes. They stop visiting for holidays, as they are preoccupied with their own families and affairs. You never get angry at either of them for doing so; it’s human nature.
And so you retreat back to the island of St.John, where your beach house is. It holds both fond and sad memories of Robert, especially within his last years. It’s probably not the best idea if you are out there alone, but you manage to keep yourself distracted with the television, books, and old photos surrounding you. You keep yourself busy and entertained, only getting sad at night about Robert.
One night, you’re reading on Robert’s old chair. There’s a peppermint tea that’s untouched by your side, along with a fully drinken bottle of wine. With a blanket over you, you read Robert’s old, annotated copy of Hades and Perspehone. You’ve read it a thousand times by now, but the story never gets old to you. It will never get old for you.
As you reach the end, in which Persephone stays with Hades, your eyes begin to feel heavy. Your hands and fingers feel tingly and heavy. With your eyelids feeling droopy and breathing feeling short, you rest your head back and into the chair. Everything slowly goes back. You're not sad to be going; infact, you’re happy.
Sometime later, you awaken in a hazy world. It’s an alternate reality since you feel much younger, sitting at a desk, and looking down at your book; it’s an introductory book to Physics with your navy notebook, your name taped on the side.
Looking up at the chalkboard, you see him; Robert. He’s Dr.Oppenheimer, but to you, he’ll always be Robert or Oppie. He’s got his cigarette in hand, and those damn blue eyes that you loved. Oh, how you’ve missed them. He looks directly at you in the class, and you directly at him. There are people talking, and while they are close, their voices are nothing but mindless mutters.
Robert smiles at you.
Your heart skips a beat.
You sigh and smile right back at him. At last, you’re home.
#carrie writes#cillian murphy#oppenheimer#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x reader#oppenheimer x reader#robert j oppenheimer#j robert oppenheimer#robert j oppenheimer x reader#j Robert oppenheimer x reader
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Revenant - Masterlist
Pairing: Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Wife! Reader
Warnings/Tags: R18 - minors DNI, hurt, comfort, eventual smut, major character death, violence, murder, betrayal, romance, pregnancy, (chapters will have additional warnings)
Author's Notes: Something I've been cooking up along side Providence!
Summary: For nearly two decades, you have been a trained assassin, part of a group known as The Order. It wasn't a glamourous work, but it put food on the table, and made you strong enough to protect your younger twin brothers from any and every harm. But an unexpected contract falls into your lap, sending you light years away to an alien world, and an alien body, to kill an alien man.
Chapter Index:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 (coming soon)
**more story info below**
Reader Info:
Name: [Y/N] Sully
Age: 24 (as of 2144), 30 when she arrives on Pandora
DOB: xx / xx / 2120
Bio: Older sister of Jake and Tom Sully, 6 years their senior. At the age of 10, she is conscripted by The Order; an elite group of hitmen/assassins. Her demeanor on the field, and the one she presents in front of others, are almost two separate beings. She is calm, collect, perhaps even cold when on the job. Around others she is bright eyed and friendly; smiles were the only thing she ever wore in front of Jake and Tom. Inspired by the character Yor Forger.
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Random Story Notes:
Quaritch is born in the year 2103 - making him 17 years your senior.
I will be pulling random science stuff out my ass
I may or may not alter the actual timeline of events - I'm getting my info from the wiki in terms of what year stuff happens.
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Perm Tag List: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww
#colonel quaritch x reader#colonel miles quaritch x reader#recom quaritch x reader#miles quaritch x reader#quaritch x reader#colonel quaritch x reader smut#recom quaritch x avatar reader#colonel miles quaritch#miles quaritch x you#miles quaritch#miles quaritch fluff#recom miles quaritch#miles quaritch smut#avatar fanfiction#avatar reader#human reader#mom reader#reader is spider's mom#wife reader
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Red Room take down || The widow family 
Pairing || Melina vostokoff x Daughter!Reader
Natasha Romanoff x Sister!Reader Yelena Belova x Sister!Reader + Alexi is there
Warnings || The red room, vodka.
Summary || y/n was paired with Melina for a widow mission yet was set free by the "family" and now it was time to take down the red room, and get a family.
Master list || Discord server
───────────────
File #042216
Y/n L/n
DOB- ##/##/07
Relatives- locked
Status- Active
Time In estate- 2007- present
Training 2010-Present
───────────────
The red room was the only place y/n had ever know, yes they were stationed outside of the red room sometimes, but the red room became their home. Y/n remembers everything that has ever happened inside these walls the original Academy in Belarus was compromised. They rounded up all of the widows, as they prepared for transporting the girls, late at night in the dark men, screaming, guns pointed, the girls were moved into trucks, which is only the beginning. Most people, but the red room what destroyed, the famous black widow taken had down the red room, but that's not true.
It's been years, every day, wake up train, do his bidding and then sleep. It's an ever going cycle. No "family" no love, that was for the week, y/n was one of the youngest, but the greatest widows. Y/n was a black widow, and never once did they act out of line, nor did they fail a mission, they became a killing machine.
Sometimes thought a small message that y/n remember from their mother, was
"don't worry cause my little ones are the strongest little ones" y/n couldn't put a face to the words, the statement never left their memories, but they could not remember their mother for the life of them. Y/n i'm starting to believe they didn't have one, that it was all in their head, cause who would love a widow, clearly they didn't want them, that's why they are here, they were left.
"Y/n. Dreykov would like to see you." Was announced to your surroundings by another widow. Causing anyone near to look directly at you as you made your way to his office.
"Ahh y/n моя вдова (my widow), you have a mission. You will attend the gala in Saint Petersburg, Melina will go with you, pose as mother and daughter, you're just going undercover, the rest is Melina's job. Are we clear" Dreykov finished his explanation as you nodded in agreement, before being dismissed to go, prepare for the mission.
Later Melina met up with you and your cell, you were already suited up. It was nice to see her again. You both worked well together but we're always paired as a mother daughter duo. Yet other than missions, you didn't see much of her.
"We're heading to the safe house outside Saint Petersburg, my farm to be exact we will prepare there, let's go" and like that, she already was walking away. You were quick to follow, heading towards a red room ship to be taken directly and guarded to the farm.
You didn't move once during the flight, something felt off, this mission was different the most and you knew it.
Upon arriving to the farm, you both grabbed your travel bags and headed into the home, and like that the ship was gone, both widows left alone to their own bidding, for now. You were both sent early to have time to get everything planed out, meaning you had some time at the farm, it was honestly nice, getting to see outside, and seeing animals well at least pigs.
The day went on as normal, it wasn't until the early evening that changed, a plane was incoming.
"Y/n to the safe room. NOW" Melina ordered, and you followed running to hide as you heard a bit of ruckus, Melina on the other hand had already got a sniper and was out the door.
"Honey I'm home" a loud man's voice boomed, you looked at the cameras, shocked to see on the screen her hugging a man outdoors, while you stayed in the safe/panic room. You saw two other women in the group standing of the side, yet you recognized one of them, Yelena Belova, escaped widow. Y/n knew protocol, not that y/n wanted to follow it. They don't have a choice, punching in the code, and picking up their weapons, y/n bolted outside.
"YELENA BELOVE DECEIVER" was all you got out before your attack, only to be stoped by Melina.
"Y/n ignore protocol." She muttered to you, causing you to freeze in shock.
"Agent vostokoff, Dreykov wouldn't allow-" yet once's again you were cut off, this time by the red headed women.
"Y/n you want out don't you? Your struggling so are all the other widows, even if you don't know it" The black widow explained yet it set you off, you had orders, you were nothing if not following orders, and like that you went to attack, straight after the blonde deceiving widow, Yelena.
You barely got a grab on her, before Red mist was shot at your face, and just then it was like everything clicked, locked out memories came flooding back, every kill, every mission, every moment replayed in your mind, you were evil, unloved and lost. You were a week young girl who had become the red rooms best weapon...
"Y/n? Come back to us" Melina asked, as you've been zoning out.
"Sorry." Was all you said before feeling embarrassed, you were surrounded 4 adults and even thought the red room doesn't see it, your only a kid.
Melina reached out to your hand, as everyone walked into the dinning room of the small house finally, Melina guiding you was comforting.
The dark haired women holding your hand bent down to your level, not that you were much shorter...
"We are gonna get out." Was all she said, yet it was enough.
At that moment you realized Melina has been playing along for a while she wasn't under the same chemical control that you were, she was just the scientist, Dreykov's brains, so she was able to think for herself, she witnessed everything felt everything, yet was so strong.
Sitting down at the table it was silent at first, until the older man spoke up
"So it's like a family reunion!" He laughed out brining a smirk to Melina's face while Yelena just reached for the vodka in the center of the table.
"Family?" Y/n wondered aloud. Yet Natasha was the one to snap back in responses
"Before yelena went threw the red room we were stationed to pose as a family in ohio. That's all it was a silly mission"
It made sense, that's what happened to you, you were some other widows mission, that widow didn't care about you, but it was a pre-red room mission?
You tried to brush it off, you were one of the best trained widows, so acting wasn't a challenge.
"So, what are we doing here" y/n asked honestly not getting the point of this little meeting, I mean they are free why not just run away, start a new life cause starting a new life as a teen would work great I guess.
Yelena chose to chime in, going back to Natasha stamens "we were family...this is the only family I have...Natasha, don't say that! Cause it was real, it was real to me!" Yelena about cried out taking the vodka with her when she stormed out.
Surprisingly it was the man whom you know now as Alexi whom followed her. Now it was just Melina, Natasha and you sitting at the table.
"So Tasha, you'll pose as me, go in get to dreykov with a mission report, Y/n will go with you and act as if she is still fully under his control, you got that y/n?" Melina asked now turning her attention to you, which you just nodded in response.
"Good, Natasha you know what to do, and y/n just head back to training and do what you do best" was the final thing Melina said before getting some era pieces, and some tech to make this plan work, and just like that, there was a red room ship flying into the farm ready to collect the "prisoners"
You walked quickly onto the ship, and stood in your same spot, you knew how this would go, you watched them load yelena, Alexi and "Natasha" up into the ship, before taking your seat. You watched as "Melina" took the drivers seat and started the trip back to the red room. You didn't speak a word the entire trip, upon landing you were greeted by Madame B, she ordered you two head to the 3rd floor for a mission run down, nothing new.
Heading off you got a glimpse in the hallways of them locking up "Natasha" and Alexi yet Yelena wasn't with them. Yet soon you'd find her....
Going threw the mission report was fine for you, until they ran a test and you reacted incorrectly, and like that you were swept off to the medical wing, and strapped to a table, no pulling or twisting could get you out, as eventually you gave in. Turning over to see "doctors" drawing out a line on Yelena's head as she was strapped next to you.
"This is a way less cool way to die" Yelena stated with no emotion, causing you to have to fight back a laugh, not that it mattered your cover with clearly blown.
The team of doctors I have left to grab some thing for a moment when yelena got the message that there was a knife located on her side, she was able to cut herself free and then going to cut you free. As the staff came rolling back into the room, both the now ex widows fought and easily overpowered the team leaving to go find Natasha, as she needed the red mist.
Rushing to the elevator to get into Dreykovs office, as y/n lead Yelena, it was Melina's message that this place was about to blow, pushing threw the doors Yelena threw the casket of the mist, freeing the other widows as y/n and Yelena tan to Natasha's Aid, helping her to her feet.
"Nat we've got to go, get the widows we have to get out of here!" Yelena yelled out
"Take the widows I'll get there soon" and like that Yelena took the widows, yet you didn't follow running for your old cell, you couldn't leave without something.
Running up the steps to get to your blocks hunting down for the small box, it was locked but you knew it was important and you knew it was all you had from your mother she was who gave it to you. Yet you've never opened it, you couldn't it was pretty much impossible to break open.
Natasha and Yelena met up with Melina and Alexi quickly heading onto a ship, to get out of the red room, along with all of the widows, well almost all.
"Shit where is Y/n?" Yelena asked
"Lena I thought she was with you, MELINA IS Y/N WITH YOU?" Natasha called out in a small panic, y/n was new to them yet they have a connect with the very young widow, y/n was just a kid.
Melina shot up. "Natasha take over driving" and like that the older dark haired women was heading towards the back of the of the ship, seeing y/n running with a box in their arms.
"Y/N!" Melina reached for a parachute before jumping out of the ship, the whole Red Room was about to go up in flames and the ship with the widows had to go, so this was her plan. Lunging at y/n, Melina threw them both over the red room, free falling temporarily.
"It's okay i got you" and like that the parachute was pulled, quickly but safely reaching the grounds.
Still holding onto the box, Melina took a look at it, pulling her necklaces out from under her suit which held a key, she was able to open the box for y/n before the other made there way over.
"ты всегда был моим маленьким (you were always my little one) even from a distance, I would never leave you детка (baby)" Melina spoke softly to you before standing up to great her other "daughters".
Realization poured into y/n's mind, they were never left, taken yes, but their mother stayed close, even if she couldn't really act as y/n's mother Melina was there, she was all y/n had.
"Mission success?" Yelena joked earning a silly glare from the others.
"It can only go up from here" y/n laughed leaning closer to Melina
"Right мама (mom)?"
#marvel#marvel mcu#marvel edits#lgbtqia#writing#mommy issues#fanfic#marvel fic#natasha romanov#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#the black widow#melina vostokoff#the red room#mcu fanfiction#black widow movie#natasha and yelena#yelena boleva#yelena mcu#yelena x y/n#mommy natasha#scarlett johannsen#florence pugh#rachel weisz#soviet
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The Hope I Find In You || Chp 1
Chapter 1: Widow file number #Y022312L
Summary: While freeing the Widows under Dreykov’s control Yelena finds a young Widow. One that reminded her so much of what it was like to grow up in an environment like that. Because of this reminder, she takes her in an attempt to let her grow in a healthier environment. Although she wouldn’t realize till it was too late that there would be more repercussions than she thought.
Pairing: big sister!Yelena Belova x teen!fem!reader
Warnings: Nothing I know of but let me know if I should add anything.
Word count: 797
a/n: This is for my more on-time 1k celebration on TikTok. For future reference in the story if there’s any text that <” Looks like this.”> it just means the character is saying something in a different language, I’m just trying to have minimal google translated stuff. Also, I just want to give minor inspo credit to upat4amwiththemoon check her out she’s pretty cool. Hope you enjoy! (Reblogs are welcome but please no translating and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged.) Master list link.
Name: Y/n L/n
Place of birth: Dalyrskiy Nasleg, Russia
DOB: December 23rd, 2002
Languages: Russian/German/English/ASL/Spanish
Identifiable markings: Bottom lip scar
Mission qualifications: Being part of the technologically compliant and chemically subjugated program (otherwise known as TCCS) widows including Y/n are more obedient making them easier to control through the white widow framework. As any widow, Y/n is also trained in hand-to-hand combat, disguise, interrogation, espionage, infiltrating secure locations, and hacking encrypted computer systems.
Notes: When conscious/aware Y/n has shown emotional processing difficulties. The TCCS program limits her emotions but when at full access to them there is less control. Before being put into the program she had gone into a blind rage attacking and killing 4 dormitory guards in an attempt to escape the facility she resided in at the time. If we were able to control this anger it could be useful in the future. I do worry though, that with her being under excessive control with this program she has not had the chance to learn how to control her emotions on her own. This could have devastating drawbacks in the future. Future updates will be made on the program when necessary.
-Melina Vostokoff
A crappy hotel on Vul. Oleksandra Nevsʹkoho, Ukraine 2018
Yelena sat there stunned at the file. So many thoughts were rushing through her all at once. While the red room was gone and done for so many widows were out there, so many young widows. This was the youngest widow she was on a mission to rescue that was still doing things against her will. Sixteen, sixteen, and on her own doing god knows what to survive. What was worse to her was the fact that Melina knew about this. “Yelena” Nina called “Yelena!” Yelena snapped out of her thoughts finally. “Yes? Sorry.”
“Annika was on patrol and she spotted the girl. We need to leave, like right now.” Yelena got up in rush readying herself. She looked over to Nina reminding her “Make sure to turn your spider bites to stun. She’s a kid we’re not trying to kill her.” Nina rolled her eyes opening the door to leave “You underestimate her Yelena, you read her file. She’s dangerous.”
“Stun mode Nina.”
“Fine, but if you get hurt I won’t be the one to patch you up.”
Misʹkyy Park
Noticing what the location was Yelena immediately questioned Annika on coms “What is she doing at a park of all places? Seems very public to pull something off.”
“I intercepted a message she received from an anonymous employer. It’s a supply pick-up, you can’t get a job without identification.”
“Everyone be quiet.” Nina said sternly “I see her, I’m moving in.”
Y/n heard the stern comment in the background and looked behind her to see the widow walking closer. After spotting two more she took off running through the trees in the park. “Дерьмо, she’s running I’ll go after her. Nina, you make sure the people stay out of the way. Annika, I want you to try and chase her towards me so I can stun her.” Yelena typical volunteered to gas the widows, she was better at comforting them after.
As Annika chased after Y/n her com when off for a second. “Annika? Annika? Do you copy?” Yelena was never comfortable when someone turned off their coms on a mission. Luckily she was reassured “Ow, Yeah- yeah I copy. The little shit shot me with her spider bites, they’re on stun either.” Yelena wanted to be gentle on this mission but it didn’t seem like that was an option anymore. “Okay, change of plans. Nina, you get Annika back to the hotel I’ll meet you both back there with the kid.” Even on mission Yelena always wanted to make sure the ones around her were okay. It was a better change of pace from the red room where they would have you prioritize the mission over the people with you.
As Y/n climbed up a fence that separated the park from the street Yelena took the chance to get her shooting her with her spider bites on the highest stun setting. As she was shot she fell to the ground back first with the duffle she was carrying barely breaking her fall. Finally catching up to Y/n Yelena pinned her down gassing her with the red dust. <” You shouldn’t have done that.”> Y/n managed to get those few words in Russian out while gasping for air after being shot. “You were running you left me no choice.”
Y/n managed to push Yelena off her still wincing in pain “No not that. Thank you for that. But, my employers will not be happy with you.”
#yelena mcu#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova x female reader#yelena belova x platonic!reader#giving a mentally unstable adult a kid trope#aroace yelena belova#ily_fictional_women_
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!! OFF DUTY | CODMWII ONE SHOTS !!
One shots will consist of the following
Soap x reader | Ghost x reader | Gaz x reader | Price x reader | Alejandro x reader | Graves x reader | Rodolfo x reader | König x reader (only if its requested or if i have a specific one for him)
i have a call of duty oc who is about the same age or a bit younger than all of the guys and will make appearances in a majority of one shots (she's like the side character). info and concept art for my OC will be posted separately
If you have an oc of your own and would like me to write a one shot with them, feel free to send me a message or an ask!
tiktok gave me the inspiration and then i got people wanting me to write something like this so if you're here from tiktok or wattpad, YOU'RE WELCOME.
GENDER NEUTRAL PRONOUNS WILL BE THE DEFAULT FOR ONE SHOTS UNLESS SOMEONE SPECIFICALLY WANTS FEMALE/MALE PRONOUNS IN THEIR REQUEST
I DO NOT WRITE SMUT. PLEASE DON'T REQUEST IT. I WILL ONLY GO AS FAR AS PG13 SPICE.
THE ONE SHOTS WILL BE A MIX OF 1ST PERSON AND 3RD PERSON (depending on the request of if i write my own). I WILL PUT THE POV AT THE TOP OF EACH ONE SHOT.
READER KEY FOR THE NEWBIES:
y/n -- your name
f/n and l/n -- first and last name
y/c/s -- your call sign
h/c and h/l -- hair color and hair length
e/c -- eye color
s/c -- skin color (idk when i'll use this one lmao)
dob -- date of birth
y/a -- your age (or i'll just write 'age' in parentheses)
y/h -- your height
NOTE: if you have a request that involves sensitive content (i.e SA, SH, suicide, etc), please put a warning before stating your scenario so i can put warnings in your requested one shot. thank you.
comment or send a message ;) see ya!
#call of duty#modern warfare 2#simon riley#johnny mctavish#john price#gaz garrick#cod mw2 imagine#one shots#cod mw 2022#alejandro vargas#rodolfo cod#rodolfo parra#soap x reader#ghost x reader#graves mw2#cod mw2 oc#oc#johnny soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#xreader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral pronouns#wattpad#fanfic#captain price#modern warfare 2022#los vaqueros#requests#call of duty modern warfare ii#phillip graves
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Until the end (Doflamingo x F!Reader) - 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 5
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - . - Chapter 6
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When Doflamingo wants something, he gets it.
Days had passed since he found himself alone with (Y/N), the bite mark on his arm was healing, the dark red scabs a reminder of that private encounter and the girl was avoiding him more actively now apart from sending his nasty looks whenever he was too close or stared at her for too long.
Even though Doflamingo openly told her about wanting to know her better and being rejected, he went looking for answers and with Vergo in the Marine, they came to him quickly.
A folder was on his desk the morning after he contacted his undercover subordinate. The bold letter on it spelt her name: (Y/N) (L/N).
Doflamingo got himself a bottle of liquor, took off his red tinted glasses and got comfortable on the armchair, ready to discover whatever secret his little birdie was hiding from him.
First was a file with a picture of a younger (Y/N) and her personal details.
Name: (Y/N) (L/N)
Age: 26
He chuckled upon learning that she was merely two years younger than him.
Gender: Female
Blood type: (Y/Bt)
Date of Birth: (Y/DoB)
Place of birth: Pyua
«Pyua?», he repeated out loud.
The name sounded familiar, but it didn't ring any bell.
He didn't read the rest and skipped to the second page: appearance, distinguishing marks, relationships.
Family: parents deceased in Pyua's war*
The asterisk was written by hand, that didn't go unnoticed by the man.
«Would you look at that? Little birdie is an orphan», a separate paper fell out of the folder he was holding.
Picking it up he easily recognized Vergo's handwriting, an asterisk was written on the top corner, big enough to be seen. The subordinate also found information about the girl's parents and the war that broke out on the island years before; he stapled together three sheets of paper which contained the information.
Doflamingo licked his lips, excited, thankful for the meticulous man.
Forgetting about (Y/N)'s personal folder for a bit, he dived in the separate stack of paper. He stared at the pictures of the married couple, (Y/N) had the same eye colour of her mother, even though their shape was more like her father's eyes; her hair was a lighter colour than her father's, while her nose and lips were definitely like her mother's.
Her parents weren't of interest, good civilian, never got into trouble. Boring and plain in Doflamingo's opinion, so he skipped to the third sheet and found information about the war.
It wasn't anything unusual, an enemy nation that wanted to expand their domains attacked the island after their king refused to give up his throne, as he was briefly reading through the file, he took his time examining each photo and that's when his eyes caught something. It was a photo of the soldiers feasting for their victory while, in the background, dead bodies and people in chains were surrounding them; a child, probably 10 years old or so, was sitting among the prisoners.
Doflamingo took (Y/N)'s photo from her personal file and compared it with the child on the other photo.
«Bingo», he smiled.
However, there must have been something else to it.
Lots of people had been sold as slaves, but that rage that she held in her eyes was something else, not the anger from a simple slave.
His smile dropped as a memory rose to the surface, a memory of his past.
Her eyes were the same as theirs.
Those filthy commoners that tried to kill him because of his lineage.
Letting a hand cover his eyes, a laugh started to escape his lips, getting louder and louder. If she really had been a slave of the Celestial Dragons or not, it didn't matter, she was going to stay whether she liked it or not.
He had found out enough, so he called Machvise in and asked him to deliver a message to (Y/N).
The girl was playing with the children when the large man approached her.
«The Young Master wants to see you tonight, after putting the children to sleep-in», he simply told her before going back to minding his own business.
Law briefly lifted his gaze from the book he was reading at peeked at (Y/N)'s confused expression.
"What does that prick want now?", her thoughts swimming around, thinking the worst was going to happen.
The day passed by painfully quick for (Y/N), in a blink of an eye she found herself standing in the hallway after putting the children to sleep. She wasn't ready to face Doflamingo, his behaviour always confused her, she never knew what to say or do to hurt his ego like she wanted to.
Walking slowly, she made her way to his chambers, she took her time not wanting him to think she was enraptured by being called in.
She was about to knock when his voice came from the other side.
«Come in», his voice was calm.
"That's a good sign, I hope", opening the door, she stepped in the room.
«You wanted to see me?», she stood near the now closed door, not wanting to step closer to him.
Doflamingo was sitting on a couch in front of a big window that let the light of the moon in; his legs crossed, arms laying on the back of the sofa and usual smirk giving him a creepier look.
«Ah, birdie, what a pleasure», he smiled.
"I'm fucked", she thought.
«How have you been?», he was acting weird.
"Oh, I'm double fucked", she was too stunned to speak so Doflamingo took the lead.
«Please, have a seat», he offered gesturing to the other couch in front of him.
Taking cautious steps towards him, she kept her eyes on him as she sat down. She knew something was off but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt; Doflamingo chuckled assuring her that he wasn't going to bite her.
«Oh really? Last time I checked you do», rolling her eyes she was starting to regret coming.
«I found something interesting», he calmly said while opening the folder he received that morning, «I'm sure you'll find it interesting as well».
(Y/N) looked down, why was he beating around the bush like that? It wasn't like him to do so; he was usually straightforward with everything.
«What's that?», she perked up at the sight of the sheets of paper.
Doflamingo looked through some of them before closing the folder.
«Oh, just something I thought you would like», he chuckled holding it up so she could read her own name on the cover.
«How did you get it?», she gulped.
He smiled letting her question unanswered.
«I've to admit that you surprised me», he didn't let her talk, «A little girl who survived a war, became a slave then started going around and now is here».
(Y/N)'s skin turned white as a ghost, hands starting to shake.
«I told you to mind your business», voice shaky as she tried to keep calm.
Many people before, during and after her had been sold as slaves, but the shame she felt once she was free and back in her hometown made her want to hide it all under the rug. People didn't have to know about her past, it was hers, not theirs. If she didn't want to talk about it, why would they? It was hers to rewind in her mind and relive.
Memories bubbled up.
«(Y/N)...», Doflamingo voice put her back to earth.
She kept quiet, mouth too dry to get a sound out.
He was smiling.
Ba-dump
Her heart felt like it was going to explode.
«Who bought you?», he got closer.
Her gaze glued to her hands in her lap.
Ba-dump
«Did they do something to you?».
She could feel his soft breath on her skin.
His perfume was intoxicating as it filled her nose.
Ba-dump
«Don't touch me!», she tried to push him away.
Her breath was erratic.
Drops of sweat running down her face.
They were staring at each other, the light of the lamp illuminating them with a warm glow. Doflamingo was now sitting beside her as her hands were on his chest, trying to keep him distant.
«Such a pretty thing», he smirked while caressing her cheek, «I bet your buyer spent a fortune just to have you. I wouldn't blame them».
(Y/N) felt violated.
She just wanted to be left alone.
«A thing?», her hands ready to wrap themselves around his neck, «I'm not a thing anymore».
Moving as fast as she possibly could, she jumped on him. Doflamingo wasn't worried, he let her hands come in contact with his skin without letting her clutch it, his string keeping her from closing her hands.
«Let me go», a rage that had been suppressed for too long threatening to come out.
She breathed heavily.
"Show me your anger, bridie, show it to me", Doflamingo knew he was almost there.
«I bet you'd look so good with a collar around your neck», his hand meeting her skin, imagining a cold chain around it.
An unexpected reaction came from (Y/N); she chuckled as her eyes became empty, a smile on her face.
«Why don't you ask how good I looked to the Celestial Dragons in Mary Geoise? Huh, Heavenly Yaksha?», she took him by surprise.
Doflamingo's smile faltered a bit as he listened to each word.
The name Mary Geoise brought back unpleasant memories and so much anger.
«Show me», his tone maniacal.
The girl wasn't moving, keeping her ferocious gaze on him. His patience was running low; the air was knocked out of (Y/N)'s lungs as he hugged her as close as possible while his hand gripped the back of her shirt.
«Is this what you wanted to hide from me?», he tugged the fabric, not ripping it yet.
«Too bad», he chuckled, «I always get what I want».
The ripping sound was much louder for (Y/N), reverberating in her ears.
Doflamingo was tracing the symbol of the Hoof of the Flying Dragon with his fingers, his touch felt so weirdly soft on her skin. He remembers seeing other World Nobles brand slaves with it when he was younger; inside his tricky mind he was thinking that such thing wasn't a coincidence, meeting her and taking her in wasn't. The universe sent Doflamingo something that was his by birth, after all the royal blood of the Celestial Dragons ran through his veins.
The only sound in the room was their steady breathing as Doflamingo stared down at the girl, her eyes closed as she let his fingers run up and down her back admiring the defined scar on it. Her lips slightly parted, wanting to say something but not being able to.
Those luscious lips that he wanted to feel so badly on his were looking so tempting in that moment, more than once was he fantasising about fucking her while he had another woman under him. She didn't know about his little fantasies, but he knew about hers; it happened a few times that he walked past her room and heard her soft moaning, he heard her calling his name once or twice which made him smirk, satisfied.
(Y/N) wasn't putting up a fight, the cat was out of the bag and Doflamingo didn't seem to treat her badly, like others did after they saw her scar. For the first time, she didn't feel ashamed.
«Are you happy now?», she asked.
«More than ever», taking her in his arms he felt a strange feeling in his chest.
It was a warm and soothing sensation.
It was a foreign sensation to Doflamingo.
He could feel (Y/N)'s heartbeat. She wasn't scared nor agitated as she was now looking at him, her cheeks dusted in pink now that she was being held almost lovingly by the man.
«Never betray me, (Y/N)», he sounded serious.
No trace of his mocking smile.
She was taken aback by that simple statement.
«I won't», staring at his lenses while their faces got closer.
«You better keep your promise», his voice almost a whisper, «It would break my heart to kill you».
Forcefully connecting their lips, he gripped her hair to keep her in place.
A shock of ecstasy ran down (Y/N)'s back, his lips on hers felt better than she imagined. She gripped his shirt as her eyes closed, enjoying that foreign form of affection.
Doflamingo felt like he reached heaven in that moment. He separated from her briefly, his tongue drawing a line from her chin to the corner of her mouth before biting her lower lip, making blood come out so he could lick it up and share its metallic taste with the girl. (Y/N) let the man do whatever he wanted, returning the kiss as she felt his tongue sneak past her lips and into her mouth.
The taste of blood and liquor made her head spin.
He was a dangerous man; she knew it well but something inside of her was telling her to stay by his side, he was different, he wasn't shaming her for being a slave to those bratty nobles.
He understood her anger and pain.
«Tomorrow, we'll cover that ugly mark of yours», he said feeling a sudden spark of anger thinking about those filthy Nobles marking her skin.
He should've been the only one to leave a mark on her, so he was going to take care of it.
(Y/N) nodded, happiness filled her heart at the thought of it. Only slaves who were marked with the Hoof of the Flying Dragon knew the pain of bearing such thing, the moment you had it on you, you weren't seen as a human anymore but only a propriety of the World Nobles.
Doflamingo kept his word.
The next day she was sitting on the chair of a tattoo artist who was carefully tracing over her scar with the black ink, the needles piercing her skin weren't bothering her, the previously burnt skin was almost completely numb to pain. The circle became the Jolly Roger of the Donquixote Family, the claws were hidden under a circular dripping pattern surrounding it; Doflamingo wanted his symbol on her while the rest was decided by (Y/N), who initially was against having the pirate's Jolly Roger tattooed on her.
«Done», the tattooist declared before applying a soothing cream and clear wrap on the tattoo.
(Y/N) got up to admire the excellent job the girl made, the only thing that gave away the fact that she had a burn scar was the darker skin tone under the logo of the Donquixote Family.
«Thank you for your service», Doflamingo said calmly before the head of the tattooist fell to the ground.
«Why would you do that?», shock was all over (Y/N)'s face as she stared at the widening pool of blood.
«You wouldn't want someone else to know you were a pet for the World Nobles, would you?», he chuckled as she shook her head.
Walking back to the headquarters, (Y/N) was jubilant to finally be able to show her back without fear of judgment. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
She would be forever grateful to Doflamingo, he freed her from a heavy burden.
«(Y/N)! You're back!», Buffalo got up and greeted her.
The girl waved at the children and walked up to them, opening her arms as they jumped on her.
«Hi kids», she greeted hugging the kids.
Law was standing back, happy enough with just saying hi.
«Wow! That's a really cool tattoo», Dellinger observed.
(Y/N) grinned joyfully at the boy and patted his head thanking him.
Rosinante who was just walking by, stopped, and was astonished by the sight of his brother's Jolly Roger on her skin. His senses telling him something was going to happen, if Doflamingo got her to tattoo his symbol on her than he must have saw something in her since he wouldn't accept just everyone into his crew; Rosinante had an urge to understand why his older brother wanted her with him.
That night, he called his superior, Sengoku, asking him if he knew about someone called (Y/N) (L/N). The marine shuffled through some documents before answering him, but from the information he received nothing was dissipating his doubts; until Sengoku arrived at the part regarding the Pyua's war and her parents dying during it, and how there was an empty span of seven years where there was no information about her, like she went missing and then got back. Rosinante wasn't dumb, he put two and two together and understood something might have happened to her, something that draw Doflamingo to her.
The undercover marine was already trying to keep children away from his unstable brother, but children were easy to scare away, an adult wasn't. Rosinante tried his best to come up with something but decided to wait for the right moment to try and make a move.
#donquixote doflamingo#donquixote rosinante#donquixote pirates#donquixote brothers#one piece doflamingo#doffy one piece#one piece#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo x you#doflamingo x y/n#trafalgar law#trafalgardwaterlaw
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The Name of the Game | Mitch Rapp
Warnings: Vulgar vocabulary, public sex (if you squint), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), teasing, foreplaying, etc. Porn with some plot.
Word Count: 3280
A/N: First time writing smut so, please don’t kill me. This CAN’T be considered flithy after the 11k I wrote for the Dylan fic.
All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.
BIG MASTERLIST | MIATCHEMBER | KO-FI
A long dark green silky dress hugged the shape of your body, accentuating the most appealing parts of your physique. Your bareback was full of goosebumps as your hair caressed the uncovered skin. Besides, your makeup was done flawlessly, emphasising the most attractive features you had.
Your walk was confident, the clicking of your heels turning heads towards you. Your presence too big for the room. However, you ignored the desiring gazes that you received from both men and women, focusing on your mission.
Liam Zajicek was your objective. A young and attractive man who was being searched by almost every CIA agent. At the young age of 22 years old, he was probably the most searched and wanted hacker. The CIA had been searching for him since last year when he successfully altered the votes in the elections of the new president of America. However, Zajicek was stealthy, not leaving any hint that could implicate him in such a grave crime.
But the man you worked for was even more stealthy, preparing his next moves before Liam Zajicek had the opportunity to do anything. And his next move was you.
The mission was easy, too easy for you. You would be lying if you denied feeling offended for receiving such a simplistic mission. It was as lightly as seducing Liam. Even if he was a talented hacker, he was still a young man who would be sex-driven.
A man in a tuxedo walked closer to you, a tray on his right hand, lowering it so you could grab the drink you craved. Nodding while offering him a charming smile, your eyes gazed around, trying to find the man whose pictures you had studied closely.
The ballroom was full of people. Elegant dresses and tuxedos, expensive drinks, and perfumes. It was the perfect environment to seduce someone, leading them out of the public eye to kill them. However, Liam was going to be luckier as your boss wanted to be the one taking care of him.
The golden light appeared to illuminate your beauty as you wandered closer to the bar, discerning your target talking to a considerably alluring woman. Sitting in a luxurious barstool, you crossed your right leg on top of your left one, causing the cut of the dress to expose your glowing skin.
Setting your intense gaze on him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours. Your tongue wetted your lip, exaggerating the action a little more as Liam Zajicek noticed you. His mouth turned into a smirk, eyes focused on you as he ignored whatever the red-haired girl was telling him.
The music turned into a ballad. Getting up from the barstool, you walked to the floor where some couples were already slow dancing, enjoying the closeness, and hoping to bring a nice one-night stand to their hotel room. As you walked to the floor, your gaze was focused on Liam. He completely ignored the red-haired woman, walking to where you were standing.
"Are you maybe waiting for someone who will have the chance to slow dance with you?" His voice was husky, and you weren't sure if it was due to the desperation he was radiating, or if it was his usual tone.
Your left hand grabbed his right hand, placing it on your waist. "I was hoping you would be that lucky someone." Your white teeth accentuated the red rich, rosewood lipstick.
His other hand instantly grabbed your other side, dragging you closer to him while your hands rested on his shoulders. "May I get your name?"
You wanted to groan, feeling a little overthrown. You expected to have fun during this mission, have some sexual tension yourself. But the way his hands only pulled you closer, without teasing you in some way was telling you that Liam Zajicek didn't have as much experience with women as he did with hacking.
"Holland," You lied, not displaying such valuable information to someone who was a mere target. "May I get yours?" This time it was you pulling him closer, biting your lower lip.
His eyes sparkled, and if you had gotten a little closer, he would have thrust against you, rutting just there. "I'm Adrian." You tried not to scoff, knowing that he was also lying.
His hands went lower, moving towards your back. He bit his lower lip too excessively, and you tried to contain a roll of your eyes. His hips got closer to yours, letting you know that there was a bulge growing, although nothing prominent.
"So," His fingers relocated, grazing your back. "Such a pretty lady coming to a party like this one on your own?" The knife being held by your garter ached to be grabbed. "Is your dad one of those rich men?" He smirked. "Because that means it will be difficult to impress you, baby." The pet name sounded lame coming from him.
Before you could answer, the music switched. The melody was still slow, a little more sensual, and you saw people wandering around to dance with other people, bodies even closer than before.
"May I take her from you now?" A deeper voice interrupted your words. Looking beside you, a man's gaze was focused on you. The other men preferred to look at your cleavage while this one preferred to gaze into your eyes, at least for now.
Before you could answer, the black-haired man had glared at Liam, making him walk away, whispering that he would try and find you later.
"Do I know you?" You did. You knew him, and he knew you. However, you both wanted to have a little fun, ignoring the detail of recognising each other.
Mitch Rapp innocently smiled at you. "I don't believe so." You had seen pictures of him that your boss had shown you, and this wouldn't be the first time Mitch Rapp had the same purpose as you. He had shaved his beard and styled his quite long dark hair. "But I wouldn't mind getting to know such a good-looking lady."
You grinned. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to run down his chest, pressing against firm muscles. Not caring about your long dress, his left leg parted yours, resting in the middle, grazing the sides of your inner thighs. His left hand slid from your back, resting upon your butt, pulling you even closer. His face near yours, warm breath hitting your top lip while his lightly upturned nose rested against the tip of yours.
"You told him your name is Holland, uh." He smirked. His right hand was on the right side of your waist, pulling you even closer to the point where your core was placed directly on top of his thigh. "I thought I told you this type of dudes are the CIA's business, Y/N."
You smirked, tongue leaping out to wet your lower lip, accidentally grazing his bottom lip, which made him try and hide a grunt. "You know I like the excitement of ruining your plans. And if Stan gets mad, it's a plus." You grinned. "Plus my boss wants him."
"I'm going to have to teach you a lesson." He scoffed. "So disobedient, always making my job harder." You suggestively glanced at him, noticing that wasn't the only hard thing you provoked as his bulge was pressed against your core. He understood what you were implying, shaking his head. The hand that was resting on your butt went to the front, brushing your tummy while going down. Disappointment overflowed you as his fingers skipped the part you desired he would graze, going directly under your dress, grabbing the knife that was being held by your garter. "You changed the place of the knife."
"Couldn't have you finding it again." You whined as his cold fingers left your thigh, not taking the blade as he was confident you wouldn't use it against him. "But seems like you did."
"Leave this one for me, baby girl." He referred to Zajicek, knowing he will have to fight you to take you away from whatever your boss had ordered you to do.
"Do you know how much I will get paid for this, Rapp?" Your hands went up again, circling his neck to bring him closer. Your next words made your lips brush against his. "A lot of money, Rapp. More than you can imagine." Your gaze moved around, remembering what you were there for. Mitch Rapp had distracted you from your objective. "Shit."
The man that was keeping you close to him turned around, following your gaze until he saw Liam speaking to a man while glancing at you two. He had discovered that you both were there to get him. He swiftly pushed through people, trying to escape both of you. "Fuck." Mitch's hands left your body, stepping as quickly as possible, following Zajicek. You did the same, trying to ignore the fabric stuck to your lower lips, confirming the effect Mitch Rapp had on you.
You lost both of them, finding yourself in an empty hall, glancing around. It wasn't until you heard a thump that you knew where both men were. Rushing to a white and golden door, you were met with Mitch as he dodged a chair that was thrown to his head by Liam.
You quickly walked closer, jumping on Zajicek's back, arms tightly around his neck, trying to choke him. "Mitch, he is mine." Your legs around his waist, pressing your thighs against him, trying to weaken the lower part of his body. Nonetheless, Liam Zajicek used his elbows to hit your stomach, causing you to fall on your butt and back, your breath being kicked out of you.
"No way, baby girl." He grunted as he ran after Liam again. As soon as you were able to get up, you ran behind them, seeing them going inside another room, which seemed to be an office. Liam tried to kick a shelf. Mitch was strong enough to stop the entire shelf from falling on top of him, although he would have a big bruise on the back of his arm.
Liam's eyes widened as he understood how tough, and trained Mitch Rapp was, running to a door that was inside the office. Pulling it open, he was met with no exit. Mitch and you ran to the other chamber, which was a bathroom.
You quickly kicked Liam's chest with your heels, making him wail in pain, collapsing on his bottom. Mitch gripped the boy's hair, dragging him over the white porcelain bath, turning the water on, and splashing his face with the head of the shower until he was turning purple as he couldn't breathe.
"Where's the SD?" You asked Zajicek. When he didn't answer you, Mitch turned the water on again. But the boy resisted, not wanting to reveal his secrets.
Your hands rapidly moved around Liam's body, going inside his pockets until your fingers found a hard object. Mitch Rapp was too distracted threatening the hacker. It was your opportunity to flew from the room with the SD you needed. Proof enough for your boss to get the money from finding and discovering the ways of Liam Zajicek.
You rushed out of the bathroom, not getting too far as a hand grabbed your right elbow. You didn't have time to turn around as a rough body pushed you against the desk placed on the middle of the office. Your chest was tightly squeezed against the hard wooden surface, while a body was pressed to the lower part of your body. A hand around the back of your neck, keeping you in place. A veiny hand came to view, grasping the SD card from your grip. "Such a snake, baby girl."
"I repeat," You tried to get away from his grasp, unsuccessfully. "I like ruining your plans."
"Good," You heard him shuffle behind you, probably hiding the SD in one of his pockets. "It's my turn to ruin you." There was no time to proceed his words as both of his hands went to the cut on your leg, ripping the dress so he could see what was underneath. His cold fingers grabbed the knife, throwing it somewhere in the room. "No underwear." He grunted, hips colliding with yours, showing how desperate he was.
You moaned, using your elbows to hold yourself up. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. "Underwear looks horrible with such a delightful dress." His eyes slipped from you to look down at your folds. Seeing the satisfaction in his eyes, you decided to move your hips back, hitting his hips again, leaving a little damp mark on the front of his pants due to your wetness. His eyes went back to yours, holding your gaze as the fingers of his right hand teased your folds, not touching them completely, just grazing them. "Mitch, you better touch me right now. I swear to g-." Your words were interrupted as he conducted your wish. Two of his fingers rubbing the wetness of your pussy all over your folds, making you gasp and hold his gaze.
"So wet." His fingers left your core, making you whine. He placed his hand between your centre and the desk, his fingers going back to the sought place. This time, toying with your clit as the other hand ran up, grabbing your boob through the dress, squeezing, and pinching. "Fuck. How can you be so wet even before I started touching you."
"You always do the same." Your hips trapped his hand against the desk, riding his hand as he played with your clit. "You always get me all turned on, and then, you leave." Your right hand stopped supporting your weight, blindly going behind your body until it was wrapping Mitch's bulge. "How can you be so hard even before I touched you."
"Shut up," He groaned, a little smirk decorating his face. His hand left your clit as he felt how you fere fastening your peace against him. His other hand removing yours off his bulge. He rapidly unzipped his jeans, and after thrusting his hips a couple of times against yours, he lowered his boxers. His left hand pushed your face against the desk, keeping you there as the head of his dick caressed your wet folds. "We have no time, baby girl. We have to be quick." He pushed the head between your folds, teasing. "No time to eat you out, no time to have my dick deep down your throat, and no time to finger you." You could notice that he was talking with a pout on his lips. He finally decided to shove himself fully in you.
"Mitch," You whined. "Don't go all soft on me, please." The grip he had around your neck tightened while his dick went out of your pussy, just to go back inside at a slow pace. You were going to beg him to do you harder, and faster, but the ringing of your phone interrupted you.
"Who's it?" Mitch mumbled. As you wanted to ignore the call, you didn't answer, which made Rapp stop his slow thrusts. When you complained, turning around to peer at him, he had an earnest expression. "I asked you a question, kitten." Your legs trembled, and you were grateful that Mitch and the desk retained your entire body.
With shaky fingers, you clutched your phone. Hazy vision trying to guess the ID of the caller. "Stan," You answered. Mitch couldn't help but smirk at the chance of fucking you while your boss was on call.
"Well, kitten." His hips went back, going forward, roughly, fastening the pace. "No more foreplay for us." Mitch and you did this in every mission that Stan sent the both of you to. You both acted as if you were each other's competition, ending up fucking somewhere after capturing or killing your target. "Answer him, baby." Your eyes widened, and before you could talk, Mitch thrust a couple of times into you, fast.
"Y-yes?" You replied after sliding your finger on the screen of the phone to accept the call.
"You guys are taking more time than normal. Was there any problem?" His annoyed voice sounded over the line, making you both roll your eyes.
Your hand went to your mouth, keeping yourself from moaning while being on the phone. Mitch was going harder and deeper as possible. His balls hitting your clit every time he thrust. "W-we already have him, Stan. We will be back soon." Soon, you were going to cum soon, not being able to hold back from how quick Mitch was doing you. "We are taking more time as I lost my knife," You plainly lied. "You know how much I love that kn-." A loud moan interrupted your sentence, followed by a couple of more.
"Oh my god, you horny rabbits." Stan realised what both of you were up to. "Finish quickly, and come back with Zajicek." He hung up.
"You heard him, kitten." He pushed you even farther into the desk, ordering you to stay there. His left hand went to your waist, moving your body to meets his thrusts. His right hand found its place on your clit, expertly moving in circles until your knees were buckling. "Come on, baby. Come on." He groaned, knowing you were so close to your high.
He pressed his chest against your back, his teeth biting your ear, not scared to moan loudly, letting you know that you had the same power on him that he had on you. "I'm so close baby." You could feel his dick grazing places that could make any woman pass out from pleasure. His member pulsating in you, letting you grasp that he was close.
A couple more of thrusts and he was cumming inside you, the movement of his hips still hitting you, perceiving you were close. "Mitch!" Your mouth was open, and a trail of drool running down your chin as your body shook from how hard you were cumming. His load filled you up, and even after both of you had reached your highs, Mitch was still inside you, pressed against you while breathing hard.
"Fuck, even quickies with you left me all satisfied." He groaned, deciding to slip his dick from you, which made you whine as you loved being filled up by him. Now, you moaned, the mix of your juices falling down your thighs. "Let me go grab you a towel." He moved to the bathroom, to come back a couple of minutes later with a warm wet towel on his hands, not hesitating to gently clean you up, knowing you were quite sensitive after sex.
"Hey," Your eyes widened. "What about Zajicek?"
"He was unconscious when I came here as you tried to escape." He hummed, concentrating on cleaning you up. "But when I went back inside to get the towel, he was conscious, tied to the bath. He probably enjoyed you moaning loudly." He winked, making you feel flustered.
"Mitch Rapp," You groaned. "My dress it's all ripped. How am I supposed to get out of this party like this?" You pointed at the ripped dress he was guilty of as he couldn't wait until you unzipped it to be inside you.
"You will have to keep closer to me, baby girl." He grabbed you, dragging you closer to his body. Your hands ended up against his firm chest. "Hard again?" You chuckled, feeling his bulge on the lower part of your tummy.
"Wait until we get home, Y/N Rapp." He winked. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, Ms. Rapp."
.
.
Taglist: @og-baby-ob14 - @siwiecola - @linkpk88 -
People in bold means I can’t tag them.
#Mitch Rapp#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp x you#mitch rapp x y/n#mitch rapp fic#mitch rapp fanfic#mitch rapp fluff#mitch rapp fanfiction#mitch rapp angst#mitch rapp smut#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp imagines#mitch rapp scenarios#dob smut#dob imagine#dob imagines#dob X you#dob X reader#dob X y/N#american assassin#american assassin fic#american assassin x reader#american assassin x you#american assassin x y/n
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How you met Dylan imagine 1
Dylan O'Brien x Reader (female)
Just another day. Just another job for Dylan. But he didn't really think he'd meet the love of his life lined up on their autograph session in the comic con.
Dylan was at the table, fans passing by with photos for autograph. He was with his film cast members. He had signed a handful already. Then Y/N came up to him. Dylan was smitten when he looked at Y/N. She was so cute. Dylan loves cute.
And she seemed so genuine and sweet. Dylan asked her name. Asked her how was she. Was she having a good day. Then when it was time to move the line up to the next person. Dylan asked the con staff to hold Y/N back in the waiting area.
When Y/N reached the end of the line, the staff caught her and asked her to stay. She asked if there is something wrong. The staff just answered: Dylan asked for you.
When their autograph session ended, Dylan ran towards you and asked how are you again. Then he brought you with him to lunch. Asked your number and gave you his.
And he kept asking you out. Hangout. Lunch. Dinner. His sister's birthday. His parents' birthday. His birthday. Basically, he melded you into his personal life. And one night Dylan asked you to be his girlfriend.
-+-+-+ ( complete ) +-+-+-
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His Dominate Side
H/C with Brahms x Y/N
Warnings: NSFW!! 18+ only!, Extreme Domming, Dob Con
Request From: @redhead993939
It’s been about three weeks since the Heelshires hired you to watch over a doll. Everything was going smoothly. Nights got a little spooky the house, made creaking sounds as if it was alive and breathing. Malcolm just left, bringing in the mail and weekly groceries. You start to open the mail, beginning with the one the Heelshires sent as you read, so many feelings flooded inside you. The most pronounced sense was anger. “What the fuck!?” you practically yelled. The letter crumbled in your fist before you threw it to the ground. “No, just no, I'm not doing this!” you stormed out of the reading room, making your way up to your bedroom, beginning to pack your clothes once you were about done; you heard crashing and things breaking downstairs although you were scared you rushed down to see what was going on. You made a quick turn back in the reading room. It was a man who was standing over the mess. He had just made a small vase in hand; you stood there almost stuck to the floor. “You're not leaving me!” He yells, slamming the vase to the ground, the small pieces flying all across the floor; you instinctively bolt upstairs to your bedroom, locking the door, but you start to hear sounds from inside the closet, the door almost flying off the hinges from the force of it opening it was him how the hell did he get in the closet? When you realized the sounds you heard during the night must have been him inside the walls. He stood there breathing heavily. Each breath made his chest flare up the more you looked, watched him; you realized this was Brahms. He wore a mask of the doll, a sage green cardigan, a white stained muscle tank top with black suspenders, and beige pants. You stood there trying to figure out what to do. You glanced towards the door, which he noticed storming towards you, grabbing you from behind when you tried to run to leave, his arms wrapped around yours tightly. “You're not leaving!” He screams. You begin to struggle into his arms, trying to free yourself, which was no use. He was too strong. One arm kept wrapped around yours; the other left a hand now grabbing the back of your head a fist full of hair, guiding you to the side of your bed, bending you over his body pressing against your back. “B-Brahms, please...” You begged him to let you go. “No, I will give you a reason to stay.” the sound of that sent chills through your body, but what surprised you was that your uterus began to tingle in need. His body was hot, an arm still wrapped around yours, his other leaving from your hair, taking that hand and running it down towards the front of your jeans, undoing the zipper and button, pulling each side of your pants, to your knees. Each time he lowered your pants, the feeling inside your uterus got hotter, making you moan under your breath. “There you go,” Brahms says, raising you off the bed, his one arm still around your arms, closing you in a grip, so you don't try and leave. He sits down on the bed, you sitting between his legs, pulling his entangling with your legs to force them open he takes his free hand, running it up and down on one of your thighs. “Y/N... I can feel your warmth from here.” He says, his chin resting on your shoulder, watching his and your movements, fingers brushing against your pussy through the panties. Anytime he just barely grazed over your clit your body would twitch, which he quickly noticed. “Ah, Hmm, is that the spot?” you can't see it. Still, he's smirking his voice speaking in a teasing tone that's when he grabs the bridge of your panties, ripping them off, which makes you gasp, jolting back into his chest his grip around you getting tighter, then he takes his thumb rubbing at your clit in circles, watching you squirm you can't help but drop your head back on his shoulder. “Fuck...” you moan out, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter; he can tell your at your limit from how much louder your moans are getting. “No, I don't think so, not yet.” He releases you from his grip, pushing you down to your stomach, raising your hips.
You feel him grabbing at your ass, spanking it. A bright red blush handprint formed almost immediately on your ass; his thumbs pressed under your ass cheeks, spreading you apart. “Mmm...” He hums before you can react; he plasters himself between you, his tongue exploring inside your pussy. You could feel the cold porcelain mask pressed to your butt, one hand gripped to your hip, the other playing with your clit once again. He pulls away, grabbing your waist flipping you to your back; you lay there panting, moaning. “I'm done with you yet.” to your surprise, what you thought he'd never do was remove his mask, but he does. “B-Brahms...” Once it's entirely off, you notice how handsome he is. The scaring on his right cheek from the burns wasn't that bad. He had a decent beard, beautiful green eyes.
You could tell he was a little embarrassed, but that didn't stop him from smashing his lips with yours, his tongue sliding right inside to meet with your tongue. You couldn't handle how overstimulated your body was, trembling beneath him. He pulls from the kiss a small string of your mixed salvia stringing between each of your lips; he begins to tug at his pants, letting his cock drop out; you look at it in shock it was... Quite big... A relatively long throbbing vein wrapped around his shaft. His hand is slowly stroking while looking at you. “Take your shirt off,” he demands; you do so without restraint, exposing your naked body to him. “Mmm... Yeah... You're so beautiful, Y/N.” One hand grabs at your breast, the other rubbing at your pussy, sliding a finger inside with complete ease. “You're so wet. Tell me you want me, tell me you want me inside you.” His finger thrust slow and torturingthe other pinching, flicking at your nipple, his teasing becoming unbearable. “Fuck please, Brahms!” you yell out, grabbing ahold of his shoulders pulling him closer to your body. “That's not what I asked Y/N.” His finger pace became even slower. You moan in frustration. How could he be so cruel to tease you this way? “Brahms... I-I want you...” He cocks an eyebrow at you , waiting for you to say the whole thing. “Please, I need you inside me.” Just speaking those words, your cheeks burn a deep red, and without warning, he slams his cock inside you; your back immediately arches up, he starts ripping off his own clothes so that he can be naked with you, Once his cardigan, and tank are off he lowers himself not breaking at his thrusts, wrapping your arms around his neck. He drops his head between the crook of your neck, an arm wrapping around your back the other behind your head, grabbing a fist full of hair. “Oh God, Y/N! You're so tight!” His moaning loud and fierce, his thrust hard and slow, you know you won't be walking too well tomorrow. The knot forming once again, he can feel your walls trembling around his dick. “Cum for me, Y/N!” His thrusts speed up, soon after you finally have your release, your insides gripping at his cock. “B-Brahms!” you couldn't contain the pleasure any further, your nails digging into his back, then pushing his hips in deeper and with that swift motion forming his release, cumming deep inside your womb. He keeps himself inside you, raising his head to look at you, kissing you gently. “You're not leaving me, Y/N.” You lay there, panting arms still tightly wrapped around him. “N-No... I'm not... But maybe you should show me why I need to stay again.” you smile, laughing softly. He smiles back at you, grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You sure you can handle it again?” he smirks lustfully, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. You both lay back on the bed, entangled, fingers caressing over each other's skin. Before getting up to take a shower together, another fun experience was about to happen.
#fanfic#brahms heelsire x reader#slashers#brahms heelshire#brahms smut#headconon#the boy 2016#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#well dominated love
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More Than Metal
Gavin Reed x Android Reader: Part 1
Warnings: swearing, guns, blood, crime scene, robot gore
Status Update: Loading…
[Status Update Complete]
Starting Power On Sequence…
[Power On Sequence Complete]
"Hello, VN600. Welcome to the Detroit Police Department."
Optic Sensors: [Functional]
Auricle Systems: [Functional]
VN600 blinks, looking at the service android in from of her. She blinks again.
Scanning…
[Scan Complete]
Serial Model Number: AN200
"Hello, AN200." She greets, stepping down from a platform. The AN200 looks down at the file in his hands. "Are all of you systems operational?" The android asks. "Affirmative." VN600 confirms. "Please make your way out of the terminal and into the bullpen. There you will be directed to Captain Fowler. Good luck." AN200 says, flatly. VN600 steps out of the Android holding terminal and into the bustling bullpen of the DPD. Her optics scan the room.
Objective: Locate 'Captain Fowler'
The VN600 steps forward, walking swiftly past several empty desks. "Hey, Connor!" Someone shouts. "Yes, Lieutenant Anderson?" 'Connor' responds. "Its the new VN600 model, just got put in service." The gruff voice says. VN600 turns facing the two figures behind her. "Hello, my name is VN600 or (Y/N). I am the android sent by Cyberlife to help and assist the DPD." The grey haired man snorts, turning back to his desk. VN scans the man's face.
Scanning…
[Scan Complete]
Lt. Hank Anderson
AGE: 53
DOB: September 6, 1985\
EMPLOY: Detroit Police Department
ASSIGN: Open Deviant Homicide Cases REGISTERED PARTNERS: RK800 (a.k.a Connor)
"Hello, (Y/N)." Connor says. VN glances down at the androids jacket. RK800. "Hello, RK800. I require the location of Captain Fowler." (Y/N) says. Hank watches the two androids interact. "Fuckin' androids." He mutters, typing away at his computer. Connor holds out his hand. "The directions to the Captain's office." He says. VN maintains eye contact as their hands connect, glowing blue. "What the hell," Hank says, staring at their hands. "Thank you, Connor." VN says with a curt nod, walking down a row of desks.
Accessing Directions…
[Access Granted]
-Proceed to coordinates-
Office Number: C47
(Y/N) turns, entering a large office space. "Captain Fowler." VN says, grabbing the bald man's attention. "Ah, VN600! Welcome to the force." Fowler says. "One moment, while I call for your partner." Fowler says, rising from his seat.
Accessing Internal Database…
[Access Granted]
-Partner-
Det. Gavin Reed
AGE: 26
DOB: October 7, 2002
EMPLOY: Detroit Police Department
ASSIGN: Red Ice Cases, Homicides
REGISTERED PARTNERS: VN600 (a.k.a (Y/N))
"Reed! Get your ass up here, now!" Fowler's voice shouts. VN waits, hands clasped behind her pace, shoulders back. Fowler reenters the office, wearing a grim expression. A tired looking man, about 5'9", enters the room, grumbling. He looks VN600 up and down, disgust gracing his features.
Scanning…
[Physical Symptoms Acquired]
HEARTRATE: 101
TEMPERATURE: 97.4°
APPEARANCE: Disheveled, Under eye bags/circles, red faced.
CURRENT OBSERVED EMOTIONAL STATE: Irritated, hostile.
-Dangerously high levels of stress and caffeine detected-
"What the hell is that doing in here?" The detective scoffs. "Detective, I'd like to introduce you to your new partner, VN600 or (Y/N)." Fowler says, bracing himself for an adverse reaction. It takes Gavin a second to register. "What?" Gavin says, lowly. He glares daggers VN600's way. VN600's external feedback biocomponent circles blue for a moment. Gavin lets out a bitter chuckle. "Is this a joke? I'm not working with a fucking machine." Gavin says, pointing an angry finger (Y/N)'s way. "Those goddamn tin cans run around here acting like they own the place. I'm not going to kiss their asses like-" Fowler, bangs his fist on his desk. "Enough, Reed! You either work with it or you don't work at all." Fowler says, sternly. Gavin laughs, almost painfully. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Reed says, throwing his hands up in the air.
Scanning…
[Updated Physical Symptoms Acquired]
HEARTRATE: 110 and increasing
TEMPERATURE: 98.1°
CURRENT OBSERVED EMOTIONAL STATE: Rage, Hostile
"Your heart rate and body temperature have increased, along with signs of emotional distress. It would be wise to use internal strategies to calm yourself, Detective." VN says, plainly. "Oh, fuck no. This isn't going to work." Gavin growls. Fowler sighs heavily. "The decision is final. Get out of my office, both of you." Fowler says. The detective lets out a frustrated noise, and storms out of the office. (Y/N) exits the office, optics wandering the room for any sign of the Detective.
Objective: Locate 'Detective Reed'
She walks down the same row of desks. VN turns looking in the direction of the break room.
Loading...
[Objective Complete]
(Y/N) swiftly paces towards the break room, spotting Detective Reed with another officer. "Oh look. Here it comes now." The female officer says, making Gavin frown. VN approaches Gavin. "Detective, I believe there is work to do." 600 states, no expression apparent on her face. Gavin snorts. "You see that?" He says glancing back a the female officer. "Nothing but pieces of metal and wires." Gavin sneers. "On the contrary, Cyberlife's androids are composed of thirium, commonly referred to as 'blue blood', biocomponents, internal and external hardware, synthetic skin, and optic and auricle sensors." (Y/N) states. Gavin stands there, dumbfounded. "I have no fucking idea what any of that meant." The female officer mumbles under her breath. Gavin suddenly, grabs VN by her android uniform, getting in her face. This aggressive reaction was expected. "I'm already sick of your attitude, you plastic prick. Stay out of my fucking way and maybe you won't get damaged." Gavin huffs. "Androids do not possess 'attitudes'." (Y/N) says simply. Gavin's eyes narrow.
"You little shit." He goes to shake VN by her jacket, put is stopped by VN's hands clasping around his wrists. It wasn't hard to overpower him. (Y/N) was about a half inch taller than the man. "Get your metal hands off me, you goddamn piece of plasitc!" Gavin hollers, pulling against the androids hold on him. "I suggest, you practice physical restraint in stressful situations such as these, detective. You could get seriously injured." (Y/N) says, calmly, letting go of his wrists. She brushes her uniform lapels off, straightening them. Gavin is beyond pissed off. He feels anger boil up in his stomach above to pill over. He could blow a hole right through that stupid android's head and it would be all over. "Stay out of my way." Gavin mutters, stomping out of the break room. VN follows.
"I do not believe that will be possible, sir, as we are assigned as partners." (Y/N) says. Gavin whips around, jamming a finger into the android's chest. "In order for this to work, you've got to shut your fucking mouth, got it?" Gavin says, turning back around. (Y/N) puts her hands behind her back and follows him, easily following his pace.
Loading…
[Information Received]
-Homicide-
VICTIMS: 3
DEATHS: 2
TIME: 20:47
LOCATION: Southeast Detroit, Collins Apartments
SUSPECTS: -
DIRECTIONS: Collect evidence, interrogate possible suspects, if located
"Detective Reed," VN says, "There has been a homicide in Southeast Detroit. Out presence is requested." She says. Gavin groans audibly. "I suggest we head that way." (Y/N) says, watching Gavin hit his head repeatedly on his desk. "I would also suggest refraining from hitting your head. You could get a headache and or a concussion." VN says, monotone. "What did I say about talking?" Gavin says, lifting his head from the desk. "I believed it was necessary to inform you that-" Gavin holds his finger up. "Just," He inhales, "Shut the fuck up." He sighs, grabbing his keys and jacket.
On the way out, Hank hollers something Gavin's way. "I never thought I'd see the day you got an android as a partner." Hank laughs, making Gavin grunt. "Shut it, Anderson." He hollers back. Hank's laughter fills the bullpen along with other sounds. Gavin and VN exit the DPD. "I am not understanding your hostility and hatred towards me, Detective. We have just met." (Y/N) says. Gavin ignore her, unlocking his car. VN decides not not pry any further.
"Hey, tin can!" Gavin shouts, from inside his car. "Get in, dumbass." He says, irritation evident. VN opens the car door, getting inside. "Fuckin' android." Gavin mutters starting his car. They drive in silence. VN looks over at her partner, studying him. It seems like he holds a lot of tension in his face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips downturned. His dark circles are very noticeable. According to VN's scan earlier, he is sleep deprived, having had only five hours of sleep in the past seventy-two hours. Her LED blinks blue for a moment. Gavin sees VN looking at him in his peripheral. He scoffs, suddenly, pulling the car off of the road. VN's LED circles yellow, accessing what danger could have caused him to pull over. "Detective, I do not detect any danger. Why have you pulled off the road?" Gavin glares at VN. "Because you're fuckin' creeping me out, staring at me and shit!" Gavin says, raising his voice.
"My apologies, sir. There is no need to be hostile." (Y/N) states. "No need to- No need to be hostile?" Gavin says, chuckling bitterly. "First, I get an android as a partner, then I'm forced to work with it, and then that android is a completely useless pile of scrapes. They the fuckin' thing embarrasses me and analyzes me twenty-four-seven!" Gavin rants, banging his hand on his steering wheel several times in the process. Gavin puts his hand on the steering wheel, arms draped across the top. VN's LED flashes yellow rapidly, accessing the situation.
Analyzing…
Det. Gavin Reed
[Stress Level]: 54%
"Your situation has proven itself difficult. Possibly worsened by lack of sleep, depression, anxiety, and anger." VN starts, causing Gavin to look up at the android. "I would suggest finding a safe outlet, detective. Try not to resort to caffeine, violent outbursts or drinking." (Y/N)'s finishes. She watches Gavin's face, harden. His eyes. They soften, pain evident behind them. Gavin snorts. "You don't know anything about me. You're just parts." He sneers, pulling out into the road again.
"You're just parts."
Analyzing…
Am I more than parts?
Analyzing…
!Error!
[Access Denied]
VN's LED flashes red. Gavin watching the android out of the corner of his eye. He decides to ignore it, driving towards the crime scene.
They arrive to the scene, police caution tape lining the area. Gavin ducks under the police tape not bothering to hold it up for his android partner. VN ducks under gracefully. "Looks like detective Reed is fucking around with androids now!" Officer James shouts from the stairs of the apartment. "Oh piss off, James. It's not like I wanted to be paired with a machine." Reed growls, glaring at (Y/N). She stands there hands clasped behind her back. "It follows you around like a dog. Fuckin' weird." Another officer says, coming up to VN.
The officer's badge reads, Brookes. He was much taller than the android, at least 6'3". "I can see why you're fuckin' around with this one." Brookes mutters, grabbing VN's jaw. "It's a pretty one." He chuckles. "Quit fuckin' messing around, Brookes." Gavin says, shoving him. (Y/N)'s LED swirls dark red. "Are you actually defending that thing, Reed?" Brookes teases. "Detective Reed, I believe we have a case to solve." VN states, LED blue again. Brookes scoffs. "Watch yourself, Reed." He grits.
Analyzing...
"Watch yourself, Reed."
[Officer Brookes is a Threat]
Path Unlocked
Officer Brookes
-Enemies-
Path Unlocked
Detective Reed
-Partners-
#gavin reed#gavin reed x reader#hank anderson#connor rk800#hank and connor#dbh fic#dbh fanfic#detroit become human
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