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planeteroticaaa · 1 month

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“BE A GOOD GIRL FOR DADDY. . .”

content warnings ! : cheating (higuruma is married), corrupt business men, rough sex, nanami and higuruma are mean, cumming on face, creampie, photos taken after, porn w/o plot, names such as: slut, doll, good girl, daddy used, reader is a college student, higuruma and nanami are in their late 30s/early 40s, etcc etcc

word count ! : 1600+

“how about we send your “daddy” a message in return. . .” higuruma stepped in front of you just as you were leaving. you stared up at the man all big eyed and confused. “w-what do you—” your voice was just about a whisper, sentence stopping short when you felt nanami’s body pressed against yours, his chest to your back and his pelvis to your ass.

ceo!nanami and ceo!higuruma who were both very pissed off after an important business meeting with their rival company’s boss—your father—so when you walked inside the conference room on the top floor of the building only a few hours later in your cute little crop top and mini skirt set, high heel shoes, with your hands behind your back and a pout on your plump pink lipgloss coated lips, they were confused. what more could this man want?

“my daddy wanted me to relay a message. . .” you explained, fingers fiddling nervously with the letter your father’s secretary wrote behind your back. “well, out with it,” sighed nanami and you couldn’t help the way your body tensed. you walked around the glass table, slowly making your way to the two large men in suits that eyed you down. you now stood in front of them, holding out the envelope and avoiding their harsh stares before nanami took it from your hands and adjusted his glasses.

the words on the paper he read aloud to higuruma went in one ear and right out the other, your attention on their big, veiny hands, fingers thick and manicured—higuruma’s left adorned by a silver wedding band on his ring finger and nanami’s wrist covered by an expensive watch. they both wore rich suits—higuruma’s the plain black and white whereas nanami’s was his signature white with a blue button up with a brown dotted yellow tie, their muscles bulging through the fabrics.

you watched higuruma’s jaw clench, eyes narrowed at you, and his lips moving as though he were speaking to you, but you were too focused on just how fucking fine your father’s enemies were, your bottom lip inbetween your teeth. “did you hear me?” he spoke, deep voice pulling you out of the trance you were in. your eyes quickly darted between the two of them and upon watching nanami’s hand form a fist, crumbling up the paper, did you start backing away. “i’m sorry…i’m going to be late for class,” you mumbled and it was the last thing you said before the men cornered you.

“m-more! pleasepleaseplease—i need more!” you cried. they you had bent over—nanami holding your wrist that were tied behind your back with his tie to keep you standing, your skirt over your ass and thong pulled to the side so they could glide their fingertips up and down your slick folds, refraining from giving you the satisfaction of their fingers inside your pretty little pussy that pulsated at the mere thought.

“so fucking loud,” higuruma mumbled to himself and before you knew it, he was standing in front of you. you gazed up at him, watching him lick his lips as he undid his pants. he grabbed you by your hair, lifting your head up while creating a slight arch in your back and you came face to face with his long, girthy cock. “this ought to shut you up. . .” he mumbled, eyes narrowed down at you as he slapped his dick against your cheek then guided the oozing angry red tip across your already open mouth, coating your lips in his clear precum.

“look at that, little slut got her mouth all open and ready for me,” higuruma smirked, tapping the fat tip of his cock on your stuck out tongue. fuck, you were ready to have him in your mouth.

his grip on your hair remained strong, especially when he thrusted his full length down your throat. you choked—eyes rolling back to the feeling of the prominent vein running up his cock on your tongue, cheeks hollowing helplessly when tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill and ruin your mascara at any second. he was just so damn big.

your breast bounced to the rough, fast movement of his pelvis coming into contact with your face. you continued to gag, spit lubricating his cock and coating your chin, your tongue moving to swirl around the tip each time he pulled back slightly then back to give the base attention.

“taking this dick down your throat so damn good…you want daddy to cum all over your face, hmm?” he pulled out, his cock pressed firmly against your face as he moved your head down to suck his balls.

you were so distracted, lips wrapped tightly around his left nut, tongue rubbing the base faster the louder you heard his grunts and groans were, that you didn’t hear the sound of nanami’s pants being unbuckled or his fly being unzipped, so drunk on higuruma’s scent and the way his cock roughly hit the back of your throat before, thst you had almost completely forgotten about nanami until he pushed the entirety of his length inside you.

you screamed, eyes rolling back immediately at the feeling of the delicious burn of him stretching you out, filling you to the brim, his fat tip already pressed firmly against that spongy spot inside your tight, gummy walls that made you see stars. “fuckkkk! t-too…much,” you cried out, your hands behind your back pushing against nanami’s pelvis.

“oh? i could’ve sworn you were just begging for more,” nanami teased you, landing a harsh slap on your ass after. “mmm!” you whined, biting down hard on your bottom lip. “come on, i know you can take it. . .” he spoke low, moving his hips back to crash into you again, your ass rippling at the contact.

“oh s-shit!” you drooled, mouth gaped open as gasp spilled from your lips, legs helplessly shaking and cunt squeezing nanami tightly. the only reason you were even still standing was higuruma’s grip on your hair and nanami’s grip on your wrist.

“pussy’s so damn tight. . .” he groaned, pulling out a bit just to slam back into you. nanami watched as your pussy leaked cum all over his cock, making a mess down his balls onto the tiled floor. he stared at the ring of white coating the base and he couldn’t help, but chuckle. “cumming already? too bad i’m not finished with you yet,” he said, setting a fast rhythm of his cock thrusting inside your creamy pussy.

“just be a good girl for daddy and take it, yeah?” nanami grunted, eyebrows furrowing as he gave it to you hard, bullying his cock into you while higuruma took the opportunity of your mouth hung open to thrust himself back in your mouth.

you didn’t know what to focus on, your brain quickly turning to mush with how rough they were both being—their cock’s imprinting themselves into you, your moans from nanami’s dick fucking you so deep sending vibarations throughout higuruma’s body.

tears fell from your eyes, mascara staining your cheeks. your breasts bounced all over the place, legs involuntarily closing together as nanami’s balls slapped against your puffy, throbbing clit with each rough thrust. “shit doll—you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up. . .” higuruma cursed, voice barely above a whisper.

you continued to move your tongue up and down his length even more at the idea of him cumming down your throat, looking up at him through glossy eyes. with one final hard thrust into your mouth, higuruma’s cock twitched—ropes of his cum spilling down your throat before pulling out and jerking himself through the rest of his orgasm, the remainder covering your face.

“yeahh, that’s it…good girl. . .” higuruma groaned, watching you lick your lips happily. “brain-dead slut,” he smirked a vile smirk, slapping his still hard cock against your cheek again. “i think she liked it hiromi…squeezing me even tighter now,” nanami bit his lips, his thrust into your pussy slowly becoming more and more sloppy. “oh really? i knew you were a little whore the second you walked in here in that small ass skirt,” higuruma lifted your chin, pushing his finger into your mouth and with his thumb pressed on your tongue, he spit down your mouth.

“mghh god—shit! gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up, yeah?” nanami cursed at the feeling of you squeezing him yet again at higuruma’s filthy words, letting go of your wrist and now keeping a tight hold on your hips, fingers digging into your skin. “y-yes! please don’t—d-don’t stop!” you loudly babbled, cunt pulsating around his length again, milking him for everything he had as you reached your own orgasm. nanami groaned, his cock twitching, soon after emptying his seed inside you with his tip pressed right against your cervix.

your eyes rolled back, legs shaking, pussy leaking yours and nanami’s mixed cum as you fell to the floor, no longer able to stand. drool seeped from your lips, completely unable to think about annything else, your cunt throbbing around nothing, so fucked out you hardly noticed flash of a phone camera and the snap following after it. soon, higuruma’s phone was flooded with calls and messages, but rather than answering he muted the device. “your father’s going to have to wait a while. after all, i haven’t had my turn inside that little pussy,” he smirked down at you.

— tags list!: @kashxyou, @lame-xxx, @ninacutebee16, @ynishalee (submit your tumblr username here if you wish to be added!)

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tinyluvs · 9 months

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hi!! would you be able or want to do something with spencer where the reader is on the team and hotch’s daughter and it’s so obvious that they like each other but instead of hotch being all scary about it he’s the one who encourages them to go for it?

omg yes thank you sm for this! so cute !!! hope you enjoy !! ♡

the elevator up to the bau rumbles slowly to life shortly after the doors ping shut. gently you rock back and fourth next to your father, who looks down at you with a raised eyebrow

"what?" you ask, tilting your head at him slightly. he frowns and puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping your swaying movements, "get off," you huff lightly, slapping his hand off of you

he smacks you back lightly, "what's got you so excited?" he asks, a knowing look passing over his face

"oh! me and spence are going to see a film later, i think," you hum, nodding your head as you talk, "i had plans and couldn't go but they fell through so, i'm going to see if he still wants to go,"

the doors of the elevator ping back open, revealing the bau in all it’s glory, "yeah? finally letting him take you on a date?" your dad says, stepping out into the hallway while you follow close behind

"it's not a date!" you hiss, frowning furiously at him. the conversation dies as he makes a slight noise that you can't figure out the meaning of. you stare at your shoes as you walk through the bullpen, the gap between you and your dad getting bigger as he walks towards his office

a groan escapes you as you flop down into your chair, your elbows planting on the desk, your head in your hands, "hey little hotchner," you don't need to lift your head to know it's spencer

"hey," you mumble, sitting up straight and turning to face the boy, who's on the other side of your desks partition. he smiles gently at you before reaching into his bag to grab his morning book

it's a book you recognise, not from reading it but you've seen spencer reading it at least once on the jet, "how was your night?" he asks, pulling himself around the desk so he's sat closer to you, no longer obstructed by the parting

your shoulders rise and fall quickly, "same as normal really, yours?" spencer nods and hums a sound of agreement before opening his book, "hey, are you still going to see that film tonight?"

no sooner has the book been opened, it's snapping shut again with a small thud, "i think so, if we don't get called out," he says, turning quickly to look over to your dad's office.

normally watching your dad through the window is enough to help you figure out if you're staying in house or getting called out but he seems to be just checking emails so, for now, in house is your best bet.

"did you find anyone else to go with?" you enquire, pulling the brown haired boy's attention back to you. he shakes his head no, once, "well, my plans fell through, if you still wanted some company?"

spencer's face lights up, "of course! it's in it's original language, russian, but i can translate to you," he smiles, pushing himself up from his chair as the rest of the team starts to file into the room

"okay," you can't help but smile up at him, your cheeks threatening to redden as he beams down at you. he brushes hair away from his eyes as derek appears behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder blade

"hey kids," he smiles in that smirky way he always does. you and spencer roll your eyes at the nickname

"hi," spencer replies fast before turning back to you, "it starts at seven thirty, so i can pick you up around seven? also, coffee?"

behind spencer, emily and penelope gawp. you shoot them a confused look, "uhm, yeah sure that's fine," you talk slowly, your gaze returning to spencer, "i bought new pods, feel free to use one for yourself,"

spencer flashes you a smile paired with a quick thumbs up before he's disappearing towards the kitchenette on the far side of the room. once he's comfortably out of distance you raise your eyebrows at your friends

"you're going on a date! finally!" penelope manages to shriek, quietly, "i never thought this day would come," she puts her hands on your shoulders, squeezing tightly

"it's not a date,"

jj wanders into the bullpen as you huff and she grins, "i heard it was a date," she singsongs, taking off towards her old office before you can react

your jaw drops open, hand slapping over your mouth, "oh my god, dad's going to kill me," you gasp, shooting out of your seat. emily fails terribly to hide her snicker as you race towards your dad's office

he jumps when you slam the door open just before you kick it shut with your foot, just as hard, "you need to make up a plan and get me out of this film tonight, please," you plead, giving your father no context

"why would i do that?" he asks, watching you slide into the seat opposite him, your hands immediately grabbing at his aaron hotchner sign, your favourite thing in his office to fiddle with

while you think of an explanation, you roll the object between your hands but after more than a minute of complete silence you quickly realise, there's only the real explanation

"so," you start, a nervous laugh passing through your lips, "as it turns out, it is a date but i didn't know until after i had said about going with him! i swear!" you pause for breath, trying to look anywhere but at your dad

if you had looked you would've noticed him trying not to smile and chuckle at you, "and i know the rules about dating in the work place, so please dad, i need you to get me out of this,"

he watches you while you panic slightly before reaching over the desk, pulling his name sign from your hands, "hey, look at me," he says softly and you do, "i think you should go for it," he shrugs gently

for the second time, your jaw drops but no words manage to come out of your mouth so instead you gesture wildly with your hands

"it's obvious you two have feelings for each other, reid is a nice kid, so why not?" your dad explains, thankfully ignoring the way your cheeks heat up at his words, "go, you'll regret it if you don't"

"i hate it when you profile me," you huff, standing up. he chuckles as you walk away but you turn back as you open the door, "thanks dad," you smile softly and he returns it as the gap between the door and frame gets smaller

when you step back into the bullpen you notice the team all staring at you, apart from spencer who still hasn't returned, "not a word," you warn, putting your hand up as you pass by them

no words are said but you hear them all laughing and giggling as you leave to find spencer, though he's not too hard to find. as you approach, he turns, a mug in each hand

"oh hey!" he grins, holding your mug out towards you. gently, you take it from him before grabbing his free hand with yours, pulling him out into the hallway

"what? where are we going?" spencer enquires as you lead him down the corridor. you crane your neck, huffing slightly when every room you pass is already occupied, "why are we going in here?" he questions when you eventually find a room

you take his mug from his hands, putting both of the drinks onto the tiny table, "can i ask you something, please?" you whisper, looking up at the taller boy

"sure"

"is tonight a date?" you ask slowly, eyes searching his while his face changes from confusion to slight surprise but he doesn't reply, "spence?" you groan, poking at at the toe of his converse with your shoes

he looks down at your shoes, bumping his, "yeah, it is," he admits quietly, "at least i wanted it to be but if you don't want to it's o-"

you cut him off, lips pressing against his while your hands cup his face. he gasps against your mouth, his fingers gripping at your waist, pulling you closer to him

slowly you kiss him, like the time around you has completely stopped. your arms tangle around his neck as you melt into him, your body pressing against his, fingers tangling into the ends of his hair

he tilts his head, kissing you a little harder before pulling away but only slightly, like he doesn't even want to. his lips brush yours as he breathes low, "so, it's a date?"

"shut up and kiss me,"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n proofread really badly through very tired eyes !! lemme know about any mistakes you see, if you want to, thank youuuu ♡

#❥ my works #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #❥ spencer reid #❥ spencer reid fic rec #❥ my spencer works #❥ spencer reid drabbles

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aerynwrites · 6 months

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Masquerade of Liars

Dad!Gale x Fem!Reader

A/N: Had to do a little something for Halloween! So i found out Faerun has their own kind of Halloween called Liars Night or Masquerade of Liars. Here’s a link if you want to read more about it, it’s actually super cool! But I also just wanted to write some soft Dad!Gale after so many of you seemed to enjoy that one shot of him finding out reader was pregnant. So hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is referred to as mother/mum.

*not beta read, sorry for any grammatical errors*

The smell of sulfur fills your nose as you strike a match to light the small wax candles before you. You light the wicks before shaking the match to douse the flame, and grabbing one of the lit candles.

“Cassias!” You call, moving to place the light source inside of your son’s pumpkin. “Are you almost ready? We need to go. Gale-!”

Your husband materializes just as you call his name, his lips against your own cutting off your words. You sigh when you pull away, smiling despite yourself as you place the last two candles in the remaining pumpkins.

“Did you help Cas with his costume?” You ask, looking over the carved orange spheres before you, making sure they look alright before you put them outside.

Gale lets out a quiet laugh as he shrugs his shoulders, “I tried, but he could not be swayed to accept my assistance. He wanted to do it himself.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully, “He is definitely your son - stubborn.”

Gale lets out a small scoff, as he steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. “Me? Stubborn? I think he gets that from you, my love.”

You let out a low hum, as you reach up to straighten the collar of his robe, “I suppose he gets it from the both of us.”

Gale smiles. “That’s better,” he says, before leaning in to kiss you again.

You relish in the somewhat quiet moment in your lover’s arms, knowing that the rest of the night will be full of excitement and noise.

The approaching thunder of footsteps coming down the stone steps of the tower make you separate from one another, but not before you press one last kiss to his cheek.

“I’m coming!” You son calls as he barrels down the stairs, nearly tripping over the tail of his costume as he hits the floor.

You instinctively reach out for him, but he’s righted himself before you can help, and you’re unable to stifle the grin that splits your lips as you take in the costume Cassian wears.

He insisted on being a dragon. A red dragon specifically. And it had to have horns, and giant wings.

And well…who were you to deny him?

His mask looked like that of a red dragon, tall pointed black horns rising from the top of it, even pointy teeth peeking out of the creature's mouth. The rest of his costume was just as elaborate, you and Cassian having worked on it for weeks leading up to the Masquerade of Liars. His shirt and pants are lined with hundreds of small metal scales that glint in the candle light. He even has a tale pinned to his pants, which may prove to be more of a hindrance now that you see it dragging the ground.

Even Gale helped with the costume, adding his own magical flare in the form of gentle smoke coming from the mask's mouth as if Cassian could breathe fire.

“Look, father look!” Cassian jumps around in his costume, the scales tinkling softly as he does so and reflecting a beautiful dappled light pattern all through the kitchen.

Gale ‘ooo’s’ and ‘ah’s’ at his son’s costume before picking the child up and smiling at the giggles that pour out from behind the mask.

“You’re just as fearsome as the legendary Ansur of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale tells him seriously before reaching up to tilt the mask up to the top of Cassian's head, revealing his face to you both.

Cassian is basically a spitting image of Gale. Warm brown eyes and dark hair. Gale insists he got your nose though, and your smile, which you’re happy about if not a little begrudging. You carried him for nine months! The least the gods could have done is given him your eyes…

But you wouldn’t change a thing, not really. Cassian has turned into a wonderful child, all chubby cheeks and laughter and kindness. Even now you watch in silent admiration as Cassian talks animatedly with his father. Despite being only six his vocabulary is as big as Gales.

“Are you ready for a night of trickery and lies?” Gale asks, voice dropping to a playfully low octave.

Cassian nods, eyes lighting up. “And candy!”

Glae laughs, moving to set Cassian back on his feet. “And candy of course. Do you have room in your pockets?”

Cassian nods fervently, face serious as he pats both pockets on his costume. “I even have candy in my other pocket so no one steals our coin.”

You stifle a laugh at the seriousness with which Cassian takes the holiday.

Liars night, though now more commonly known as the Masquerade of Liars is a night to pay tribute to the dirties Leira and Mask. While it started centuries ago as a more serious holiday it’s evolved into more of a fun tradition to celebrate the gods.

The particular tradition Cassian is referring to is pickpocketing. It used to be so common back when the holiday was first created that people started keeping candy in their pockets instead of coins - this soon evolved into people taking the candy and leaving behind trinkets or a small note in return.

Now most people just give the candy out, especially to children. But the occasional trinket still makes it into a pocket here or there - and you aren’t about to ruin his fun.

“Very good, Cas!” You praise, turning to face the carved pumpkins once more. “We should be ready to go once we put the pumpkins on the doorstep. Do you want to carry yours?”

“Yes, yes! Can I?” He reaches his hands up expectantly, and you smile, looking over at Gale.

“What do you think, my love?”

Gale nods, a smile matching your own on his face as he takes Cassian’s pumpkins from the counter. “I think a dragon as fearsome as Cassian can carry his own pumpkin to the stoop this year.”

Cassian cheers and takes the pumpkin carefully in his arms, Gale keeping a watchful eye until he’s sure he has a secure hold on it.

You take your pumpkins and Gale takes his as you all move to the front door of the tower, moving slowly to keep the candles lit.

“Be careful Cas,” you say, following close behind. “You don’t want the candle to blow out, remember?”

“I remember, mum,” he says, “It’s bad luck.”

You nod as Gale reaches out with one hand to open the door for all of you, the cool night air kissing your skin. “That’s right.”

You watch as Cassian moves to set his pumpkin at the top of the stairs right next to the door, turning it this way and that until he’s happy with the placement. You and Gale place yours nearby before locking the door and taking Cassian’s hands in your own.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, you all turn to look at the small display, the candles flickering gently in the night. Cassian hops impatiently between you and your husband, his little hands squeezing yours tightly.

“Can we go?” He asks, excitement bleeding into his words.

You chuckle and nod. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to miss the festivities.”

The three of you walk from your home towards Waterdeeps town square. While the night is celebrated throughout the city, most people gather in the square. Vendors set up to sell food or other festive items and children run around trying to collect as much candy as they can in one night. Even the adults partake in the costumes and activities. You and Gale have dressed up in the past, but this year you decided to forgo a disguise.

Cassian chats animatedly as you make your way down the quiet streets, the sounds of celebration getting louder the closer you get to the center of Waterdeep. His steps get more impatient until eventually, both you and Gale are stumbling to keep up with the energetic child as you finally reach your destination.

The square is decorated for the holiday, lanterns hanging all around, and some even floating in the air thanks to some other magic wielders. Autumnal colored banners and draping shirt line the various vendor stalls and the fountain at the center, and lively music fills the square as well.

Cassian breaks away from you and Gale when he spots one of his friends, a little tiefling boy named Allon who looks to be dressed as an owlbear.

Gale laughs as you both follow him, watching as he embraces his friend before gesturing excitedly at their costumes. “I don’t understand where all that energy comes from - it surely doesn’t come from me.”

You let out a chuckle of your own as you stand a few paces back to let Cassian talk to his friend. “That’s just how children are, I’m afraid. But it dies down. Eventually.”

Gale just hums quietly in response, watching your son with adoring eyes as he and Allon take turns roaring at each other.

You remember a time many years ago when Gale told you he didn’t feel like he was father material. Granted it was in the middle of some tumultuous times for everyone, but you had thought he truly meant it. And despite him being overjoyed when you told him you were pregnant with Cassian several years ago you couldn’t help but worry those doubts would creep back in.

But they never did.

Gale took to fatherhood like a fish to water. Despite it being a learning curve for the both of you, he took everything in stride and a new glow settled into his being. Even in his most dour moods from hours of fruitless research or a failed spell experiment, his face would always light up at the sight of his son.

This adoration just seemed to grow as Cassian got older, the boy taking after his father in almost everything. You remember thinking that Gale was going to die of happiness when Cassian started to show an affinity for magic and a certain connection to the weave.

You know he would have been happy even if Cassian showed no interest in the weave or magic in general, but the fact that he does has only pulled the two of them closer.

“Mr. Dekarios!”

Allon’s voice pulls you from your reverie, watching as him and Cassian come running up to you and Gale. You look past him to see his parents watching you all and give them a small wave which they return.

Gale takes his hand from your own as the boy approaches and crouches down to his level.

“Yes, Allon?”

The boy, whose mask is tipped up to sit on top of his head, looks slightly sheepish as he looks at Gale.

“Can you show me that magic trick again?” He asks politely.

Gale feigns to think for a moment, hand on his chin as he scratches his beard. “Do you mean this one?”

With a flick of his wrist and a faint purple aura, Gale produces a small foil wrapped chocolate in the palm of his hand just to the side of Allon’s face. The tiefling giggles in delight before snatching the candy and stuffing it in his mouth.

You hear a small gasp come from behind him as his mother approaches, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Allon, what do you say?”

His eyes widen as he speaks around the chocolate in his mouth. “-‘fank you.”

Gale laughs before pulling two more chocolates from his robe and handing them to him. “You’re most welcome.”

Allon’s mother gives you both a small apology before leading her son back to where her husband stands.

Gale’s trick for Allon starts to attract a small crowd of children, all of them begging to see him do more tricks and other magical displays. Your wizard stands next to you as the gaggle grows, a huge grin splitting his lips as he complies with the tiny demands.

He pulls candy out of thin air, handing them to the small grabby hands that reach out before moving to pull hard candy’s from behind some children’s ears or even making them appear right in their pockets. You watch from a few feet away, as Cassian fights his way to the front of the crowd. Gal hoists him into his arms and pauses his display as yours son leans in to whisper in his ear.

Gale’s eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds like a grand idea, Cassian. Would you like to help me?”

At the prospect of helping his father with magic, Cassian nods fervently, his mask shaking funnily on his face. Gale instructs the other children to back up just a few feet before setting Cassian down beside him. He turns to face him and takes his little hands in his own, palms facing up.

“Now, remember,” he instructs gently, “You have to think about it very hard, try to picture it in your head.”

Cassian nods firmly, and you can practically picture the look of serious determination on his face.

Gale continues. “And remember, do not be discouraged if it does not work because…”

“I’m still learning and mistakes are okay,” Cassian recites the words Gale tells him so often.

Gale smiles, squeezing Cassian’s hands. “That’s right. Now, are you ready?”

Cassian nods again and Gale turns to face the small crowd, which has now grown to include adults as well. You’ve now moved to join the crowd a few paces back from the front row of children in order to watch your family. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that Cassian isn’t nervous in any way.

Gale places both hands out in front of him, palms together and waits as Cassian mimics him. After a moment of concentration he separates his hands to reveal a small area of purple and blue light. You wait for Cassian to do the same but find yourself slightly perplexed when he stays still, his hands held firmly together in front of him.

You watch as Gale whispers something to him before he thrusts his hands skywards ending out a cascade of purple and blue light that settles over the crowd. Moments later you watch as Cassian does the same but instead, pure starlight springs out from his palms, creating a magical night sky above the square as the pinpricks of bright white light settle among the colorful aurora.

Cheers and gasps of pleasure erupt from the crowd, but you don’t stay to watch their faces as they marvel at the magic. You’re already rushing forward, taking Cassian in your arms as you gasp.

“Cassian, that was amazing!” You praise, hugging him close before looking at Gale who gazes proudly at his son. “When did you learn to do that?”

Cassian pulls away so he can look at you, tugging his mask up so his brown eyes can look into your own, excitement and utter joy sparkling in his eyes.

“I’ve been practicing for over a tenday!” He says proudly.

Finally gale approaches, finally free from attention as they all marvel at his handiwork. “It’s true. He would not rest until he was sure he could do it,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. “In fact it was you he wanted to surprise most.”

You smile and turn to look at your son again. “Well consider me surprised,” you tell him before peppering his face with kisses, causing him to squeal. “I’m so, so proud of you, Cas.”

“Muuum!” He whines, causing you to relent in your barage of kisses.

“Okay, okay,” you say, moving to set him back on his feet. “Why don’t we go explore the rest of the square? I think I saw someone selling cinnamon buns…”

At the mention of his favorite treat, Cassian’s face lights up again and he tugs his mask back down as he grabs your and Gale’s hand in each of his one.

“Yes! Let’s go, let’s go!”

———

The moon is high in the sky by the time you three make your way home. Cassian is sound asleep in Gale’s arms, pockets building with candy, and chocolate staining the corners of his mouth.

You approach the tower soon enough, the facing flicker of three candles greeting you through the carved mouths of the pumpkins. You smile as you make your way up the steps, getting the door for Gale before following them both inside.

You follow them up to Cassian’s room and help Gale gently remove his costume, careful not to wake him. But despite your best efforts, just as you're tucking him into bed, Cassian stirs awake.

His eyes flutter slowly as his hands come up to tug the blanket further around him.

“Did the candles go out?” He asks sleepily.

You shake your head, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Nope. They’re still lit, my love. No bad luck this year.”

Cassian nods before turning onto his side, eyes slipping closed as he falls right back asleep.

You smile and press another kiss to his forehead, Gale doing the same before blowing out the candles and leaving the room, leaving the door cracked so a small amount of light can filter in from the hallway.

You both move about readying for bed once Cassian is settled, neither of you speaking as sleep starts to tug at your minds as well. Only when you’re settled beneath the covers with Gale’s arms snaking around you do you finally break the silence.

“You’re an amazing father,” you tell him softly, lips brushing against his own.

Gale is silent for a moment, eyes trailing over your face before his eyes slip closed and he pulls you closer, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“That is praise most high - praise I sometimes still feel unworthy of.”

You shake your head, wrapping around him further. “You deserve that and more, my love.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, the underside of your jaw, before eventually pulling away to capture your lips with his own. It’s a slow, languid kiss, both of you just taking each other in until finally breaking apart and settling against the pillows.

“I love you,” gale says simply, pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, for giving me this. Giving me a family.”

Your heart swells at his words and you move to bury your face in his chest, wanting him as close as possible.

“I love you too.”

#gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 x reader #gale #bg3 #bg3 gale

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

Text

It's a quiet Sunday afternoon in late May, the sun streaming in through the living room windows and bathing them in its warm light.

His head is in Eddie's lap and Eddie's fingers are running through his hair in that soothing way that makes Steve feel closer to sleep than awake. Everything is soft and hazy, like a dream he never wants to wake up from.

Everything could be perfect.

Everything is perfect, really.

Everything except the voice in his head. It speaks in different tongues to better disguise itself, making it harder for Steve to get rid of it.

Sometimes it sounds like his grandfather telling him to go somewhere else to eat like a goddamn pig when Steve ate his chicken legs with his hand and got grease on himself.

Other times it's his mom telling the neighbor that Steve wasn't the brightest kid, but at least he was good at sports.

Often it is his father's voice asking him why he is such a disappointment.

On his bad days, it is Nancy's voice reminding him that his love is bullshit, that he is bullshit.

Eddie helps. Most days he makes the voices go away, or at least helps him quiet them.

But not today.

Today Steve woke up to a bad day.

That's why they canceled their plans to go to the Hopper-Byers' for a family picnic and decided to spend their Sunday on the couch instead, just the two of them.

That's why Steve is biting back the questions he's been dying to ask for hours. It's too much to ask, too raw, too needy. It would be like cutting himself open and showing Eddie the emptiness inside where a real person should be.

That's why he breaks so easily when Eddie looks down at him with a soft, adoring smile on his face and kisses the tip of Steve's nose.

Just like that. Like it's nothing. Like it's everything.

Like it's love.

"Why?" It bursts out of him like hot magma from an erupting volcano, spilling out of his mouth and leaving scorched earth in its wake.

Brown eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting a natural disaster in their living room.

"Why what, Stevie?" He asks, his fingers stopping their soothing ministrations, and Steve begins a tally of the casualties. That's one.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve demands, unable to contain the outburst. "Treating me like... like I'm something worth treating with so much care and gentleness? You canceled the picnic today like it's no big deal, but I know how excited you've been all week about your little campaign with the kids. Just because I'm too weak to handle a bad day. Why are you not angry? Why... why...?"

Why are you still here?

He can't say it, can't ask it, too afraid of the answer.

But Eddie hears it anyway, can see through Steve and his bullshit as if he were made of glass.

"Because I love you, Steve."

Steve hates that it sounds so simple when Eddie says it like that.

"But why?"

Steve scrambles into an upright position, can't bear to have this conversation lying down. He needs to be able to run and hide, to get away so he can lick his wounds.

Some of these thoughts must show on his face, or maybe it's just the way Eddie has learned to read him like an open book. Those dark chocolate eyes Steve loves to get lost in go impossibly soft as they take him in, and Eddie's calloused hands are so, so gentle as they grip Steve's own, as if Eddie is afraid he'll break him with one wrong move.

"There is no why, Stevie. I love you because I have to. Because there is no other way to exist in a world with you in it. No why, any more than there's a reason your hair does that floppy thing no matter how hard you try to tame it. Or why a gaggle of middle schoolers imprinted on you like ducklings, so now we're co-parenting them."

Eddie brings both of Steve's hands to his mouth and kisses them reverently before placing them on his own cheeks, silently asking Steve to hold him.

And Steve does, as if Eddie is the most precious thing he's ever held in his hands.

"Some days I felt like I wasn't even real, you know? Like I was imaginary, and if people stopped believing I was real, I would just disappear. So I invented myself every day so other people wouldn't have to. It was like who I really was was secondary to what I wanted everyone else to see. But not you. You saw me. You knew me, from the beginning. I can't really explain it any better than that. You make me real. And I love you. And there is no why, only a how. I love you like you're real too."

The voices in his head do not magically disappear, but when Steve kisses Eddie, he begins to feel like a real person, too.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 5 #love is being seen and known #my writing

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roseghoul26 · 2 months

Text

Part 1

Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"

Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read

part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4

“C’mon, we’re heading out. And make sure you bring that rifle.”

Arthur’s voice caused you to look up from polishing said rifle, the freshly cleaned barrel glinting in the afternoon sun. Before you stood the cowboy, one hand resting casually on his gun belt, the other rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his.

Narrowing your eyebrows, you stood, strapping the gun across your back. “You’re worried,” you stated, and you watched his movement halt. “Why?”

“Dutch says… well how’d you know that? I ain’t even said anything yet.”

“You don’t need to say anything, cowboy. But that’s beside the point. Dutch says…?” You gestured for him to continue.

You swore you heard him mutter something about you being a damn witch before he turned around, leading you to where the horses were hitched at the front of your camp. The new camp, Clemens Point, was starting to grow on you, even with all the bugs and coyotes around. The access to water was nice, and it was close enough to cities to not be a burden to go to, but far enough away from big populaces to live an outlaw lifestyle. As the two of you walked, Arthur began explaining the new plan that Dutch had roped you two into.

“Pearson said he met some O’Driscolls, who claim Colm is willing to ‘negotiate peace’ with Dutch.” Arthur sounded as convinced as you felt.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I swear to you. Don’t know what’s gonna come from it, but it’s a start.”

“You really believe Colm’ll just stop fighting Dutch?”

“Not really. But Micah got Dutch convinced he would, and crazier things have happened…” For the second time, you watched him rub the back of his neck.

“You think it’s a trap, don’t you?”

“I’d be a fool not to.”

By this time you had reached your horses, yours a large black and white war horse, his a brown Appaloosa.You went to go pick up your saddle which lay across the hitching post, but when your hands made contact with the leather, Arthur playfully swatted your hands away, picking the saddle up himself, heaving it up and over the horse with a light grunt. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, allowing you to fully appreciate his muscular forearms as he lifted with ease.

“Hey-” you began, before getting silenced with a look from the cowboy.

After quickly securing the saddle, he held out his hand expectantly, slightly tipping himself downward in a mock bow. A cheeky smirk adorned his face. “Your ride is ready, princess.”

“I ain’t no princess,” you scoffed, but you still took his hand gingerly, unable to stop a faint smile from growing on your own face, and you stepped into one of the stirrups, using Arthur's hand to help bring your body fully over the saddle.

His hand still held yours as he responded. “No you ain’t,” his gaze, which was playful, turned into something fonder and gentler, a look you’ve seen him give you time and time again. “You’re something better.”

Leaning down until you were almost at eye level with him, you swore you felt him squeeze your hand ever so tighter, and you spoke low, slightly husky. “And what would that be, Arthur Morgan?”

His eyes widened, and you watched his eyes flick up and down your face, trying to determine if your flirtatious tone was a joke or not. A few seconds passed before he opened his mouth to respond. “You’re-”

“C’mon lovebirds! Hurry up!” Micah’s shouting broke whatever trance the two of you had been in, and you felt Arthur quickly drop your hand like it was scalding, stepping back to create an appropriate amount of space between the two of you. A light dusting of pink covered both of your faces, his blue eyes looking everywhere but you, and a quick scan of the camp told you that Micah wasn’t the only one watching the two of you: Javier and Charles shared a look, the hunter laughing gently as the other shook his head; Tilly and Mary-Beth were furiously whispering to each other, glancing over at the two of you every other second.

Clearing your throat, you straightened back up, urging your horse forward as Arthur mounted his, catching up to Micah and Dutch who sat waiting at the entrance to camp. A few seconds later you heard Arthur approach, settling at your right side. “Ready?” Dutch asked, turning and leaving once receiving nods from you and the others. Following suit with Dutch and Micah in the lead, you settled in for the ride.

Glancing over to the cowboy to your right, you watched him chat with Dutch, not paying attention to the conversation as you took in the man who has plagued every thought in your brain for the last two years. It was no secret you were head-over-heels for Arthur; you had been for at least the past two years. The two of you had been friends for at least four years at this point, becoming close when you joined the gang after a partially-successful pickpocket attempt against Dutch (you had managed to snag his gold pocket watch, but were subsequently caught a few minutes later once he realized). Despite that, he had offered you a place with the gang. You accepted, partially because you needed money, a place to sleep, and could possibly make friends, but you also joined because you finally had a place to put your niche talents to use.

Arthur and you became close quickly, and you worked together well, meaning you were often sent out together for jobs. It was a platonic relationship, but the two of you always danced the line of platonic and romantic, flirty remarks being tossed around wildly. It wasn’t until the last year or two where you felt yourself start to actually fall in love with the cowboy, and the flirting wasn’t helping. It was the age old tale of falling for your best friend, and feeling too afraid to say anything in case it wasn’t reciprocated, possibly ruining said friendship.

It wasn’t hard to fall for him. For all the hard front he puts up, he has a kind heart, going out of his way to help folks (he usually preferred when a reward was offered, but would do things begrudgingly if none was presented). He was loyal, staying by Dutch’s side through thick and thin, and had humor drier than a desert. And he wasn’t bad on the eyes either, a thinker body built from years of labor, skin tanned and scars from years in the wild and sun. Eyes bluer than the ocean, you found yourself always drowning in their depths.

You hadn’t realized you had been staring at him until you heard him say your name, slightly loud, as if he had been trying to get your attention for a bit. He laughed, “I asked, ‘he treating you well?’”

When you gave him a confused look, he pointed downwards to your horse, which Arthur had bought for you a few weeks ago after your previous horse was shot by some Lemoyne Raiders. “He is,” you stroked his mane affectionately, earning you a content huff from the beast. “Thank you again, Arthur.”

“It’s nothing, really. You named him yet?”

“I have. You ever read Charles Dickens?”

“Ain’t much of a reader,” he responded.

“His name is Tiny Tim, from A Cristmas Carol. My mom would read it every year ‘round Christmas time.”

“Tiny Tim? There ain’t nothing tiny ‘bout that beast!”

“That’s what’s funny!” You laughed, and Arthur just shook his head, trying and failing to hide his own laughter.

“Yer cute,” he said, nonchalantly, like he had no idea he was actually saying it. You just stared at him, caught off guard by his seemingly very genuine statement. Now it was his turn to be confused, and he cocked his head to side, glancing at you quizzically.

Dutch’s voice had snapped your gazes back forward, meeting his eyes as he turned to talk. “You know, I’ve been fighting Colm for so long now… I can barely remember a time when it was different.”

The man to your right finally looked away from you, his expression harding as he responded. “And you’re still fighting him now, make no mistake of that.”

“Here he goes…” Micah began. “Doubting Thomas… is there any plan you ain’t sour on?”

“Maybe you’re right. I’m just nervous. Let’s not waste any more lives needlessly.”

“I ain’t costing lives here… I’m saving them. What did you say, we had Pinkertons coming after us?”

“Because of Blackwater,” you chimed in.

Micah continued, “And Leviticus Cornwall and his private army! Then… who knows when this local hillbilly thing will come to a head, hm? Can we really afford to be fighting on all these fronts, and O’Driscoll?”

The group was silent for a moment, all chewing on the words spoken by the blonde man.

“There is wisdom in that,” Dutch finally said.

“For once,” you muttered, thinking you were unheard until you heard a chuckle from your right.

“Oh, I hope so, gentlemen, but… like I said, I’m nervous.”

“Yeah, me too,” you added. “Feels too good to be true.”

Now it was Micah’s turn to shift around his saddle to face you. “Look, you ain’t even going to be the one in danger… we’ll get on over there… find a nice perch for you to settle your pretty self into… you got that rifle, don’t you?”

Choosing to ignore that one particular comment of his, you tapped the strap across the shoulder that held your rolling block rifle, one of your most prized possessions. “Never leave without it,” you said, failing to notice the way that Arthur glared daggers into Micah, who continued talking.

“Then me, Dutch, and Arthur walk right into the lion’s den, with you to cover us.”

“Just stay calm, unless I give you a reason not to,” you said, a growing tension building inside you.

Dutch gave you a reassuring smile.“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ve got you.”

“I will do my best.”

“Oh, my dear, with you watching over me, I would walk into hell itself.”

“As would I,” Micah added.

You weren’t doubtful of your abilities as a sharpshooter, but the praise coming from the man you respected, and Micah, helped bolster your confidence, and you felt yourself sitting up straighter as you rode. “You don’t need me to tell you how great you are,” Arthur said, pausing a moment before continuing. “But I’m gonna anyway. I would go anywhere if I knew you was watching over me.”

“Now y’all are putting too much pressure on me,” you joked, trying to clear the comforting ache in your chest from Arthur’s words. “Gonna give me performance anxiety.”

“Arthur knows a thing or two ‘bout that!”

“Micah, I swear-” he growled, and you and Dutch shared glances before breaking into laughter, the tension building up with the upcoming meeting dissipating momentarily.

The next few minutes of riding were in comfortable silence, before Micah halted suddenly as you reached the base of the hills, the rest of you skidding to a halt behind him. “Hey, up there, men on the ridge.”

Glancing up, you indeed saw four men atop the ridge, all four on horses, looking down on your group. You watched Dutch place a hand on his gun, already ready for things to go wrong. “O’Driscolls, from the look of them.”

“I don’t like having eyes on us.” Arthur grumbled.

“We’re close,” Micah pointed to you. “You’ll be the eyes soon enough.”

Nodding, you swung your rifle around so it sat in your hands. “Let’s go.”

The group started back up again, riding around and up the hill. That previously dissipated tension was back, and you saw the way that Arthur’s jaw clenched as he rode. “Maybe he’s right, Dutch. Maybe I have pushed too hard. Got us into situations that… could have been safer. I just… I see all these mouths we got to feed, and I… I dream too big. Caring too much, that’s my problem.”

“The hell you on about, Micah?” You asked, Arthur nodding in agreement. The men in front both ignored you.

“Caring too much?” Dutch scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”

After giving you a look that screamed confusion, Arthur exclaimed “This is horse shit. From both of you!”

“It might be! Micah might be full of shit. Colm O’Driscoll might be full of shit. The promise of this great nation, men create equal, liberty and justice for all… that might be nonsense too. But it’s worth trying for. It’s worth believing in. Can’t you see that, friend?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try. All I ask is you try.”

Finally reaching your destination, you all halted again, and you watched Micah turn around so he was face-to-face with you. “Alright, princess,” he looked directly at Arthur, jesting at the earlier interaction he interrupted, before looking back to you. “You’re gonna peel off up ahead. We’ll be meeting down on the plane. Find a spot just above us where you can keep an eye on things.”

“Alright, alright.” You responded, getting ready to leave before Arthur stopped you.

“However this shakes out, let’s aim to meet back at the fork in the road afterwards.”

“Got it. Behave yourselves, boys.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you heard Dutch respond before him and Micah took off toward the plane. Again, you turned to leave, but you heard your name leave Arthur’s mouth.

Glancing at him, you gave him an easy smile, before chuckling lightly. “Better get going cowboy. They’re gonna start without you.”

Your laugh died in your throat as you saw a rather serious Arthur before you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Be careful.” He inhaled shakily. “Please.”

“I- I will,” your answer sounded more like a question. “But it’s not me you should be worried about. I’m not going into the ‘lion’s den’, as Micah put it. I’ll be fine.”

“Just promise me if things go wrong, you’ll get the hell out of here.”

“You know I can’t promise that. But for you, I’ll certainly try.”

Knowing that was the best he was going to get from you, he just shook his head, and began to make his way toward the others. “I’ll see ya later, princess.”

Turning so he couldn’t see your flustered state, you waved him away, laughing as you heard Micah shout hurry up, loverboy. Reaching the top of the hill, you dismounted, hitching your horse to a nearby dead tree, and as crouched at the edge, you watched through the scope of your rifle as the men waited for the O’Driscolls to arrive.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You should’ve known something was wrong when you only saw three men on the plane.

It wasn’t the fact that one of these men was Colm himself, nor was it the fact that each of these men were armed and dangerous, ready to fire at a single wrong move from Dutch. With you watching from above, and Micah and Arthur both backing Dutch from behind, you had no doubt which side would win in a shootout.

No, it was the fact that you remembered there being four O’Driscolls waiting atop the hill as you all approached.

At the time, as you crouched on your perch, keeping eye on the “negotiation” happening between the two gangs, you hadn’t been worried, figuring they had a person on watch as well. You should’ve looked a little harder, could’ve scanned the nearby hills and see that the fourth O’Driscoll was nowhere to be found. Maybe if you’d have done this, you wouldn’t be hung upside down in Colm’s basement, a nasty gunshot wound in your left shoulder.

The footsteps had approached quickly, and the butt of the rifle was even quicker, striking you across the face with a sickening crack. Everything went black, and you barely remember waking up strung across the back of a horse for a few moments before falling back into unconsciousness.

You remember waking up again, and you were able to escape for a moment before one O’Driscoll was able to get you with a rope, causing you to eat shit, your head slamming against the forest floor. They had laughed to each other, before one of them held their gun up to your shoulder, an agonizing blast and a flash of white light the last thing you saw before darkness took over again.

Now here you were, strung upside down, the blood currently rushing to your brain making it pound harder. Everything hurts, the small puddle of blood beneath you indicative of the state of your body. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here; everything became a blur after the first day.

Colm had yet to make an appearance, his men being the ones to torture you. It was the same few men each time. They alternated from keeping you upside down to having you tied down to a chair, to having you hanging by chains that pulled at your shoulder, aggravating your wounds even further. But they never asked many questions, instead finding their answers in their knives and pokers that they carved into your flesh.

Day after day you searched for means of escape, coming up fruitless each time; his men were surprisingly well trained, making sure to not leave anything in range of you that could be used as a tool or weapon.

However, they wanted you alive, for whatever reason. Crude first aid had been applied to your wounds, preventing infection and disease from killing you off, but the one at your shoulder continued to be the worse. Occasionally they would give you water and stale food, messily hand fed by one of the men. Despite that, every time you heard the cellar door open, you waited with bated breath for the final blow, but it never came.

The cellar they kept you in was small, musty, and lit by a single candle on a table to your right, just out of reach from where you hung. A few scraps of cloth lay on the table, covered in crimson, and a single chair sat tucked in the corner, also covered in blood.

Trying to find any sort of comfort, you tried sitting up a bit, your abs screaming out as you managed to lift yourself up a few inches, and some of the blood returned to the rest of your body. Dizzy, you shut your eyes, letting yourself flop back down, the chains creaking above you.

The chains were so loud that you almost failed to hear the squeak of the cellar doors opening, heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to you. Opening one of your eyes, you saw an unfamiliar silhouette approaching, until you heard him speak your name. “It’s good to see ya.” He said, stepping fully into the cellar, the candlelight allowing you to see him fully.

“Hello, Colm,” your voice was hoarse from screaming, and you watched the greasy man step closer, a plate of food in one hand, some kind of utensil in the other. Finally opening both eyes, you watched him place his things down on the table, the clatter of the plate barely audible over your own heartbeat. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, because before you knew it a bolt of pain tore through your body and you cried out, Colm stepping back from you after pressing his hand hard into your shoulder.

He sneered down at you, grimy yellow teeth flashing. “How’s the wound?”

Gritting your teeth, you stared down the leader of the O’Driscolls with as much venom as you could muster, willing back the tears of pain. “Can’t feel it.”

“Whatever makes ya feel better,” he stalked over to his food, turning his back to you as he ate. “ Now, tell me…” he spoke through mouthfuls of food, “fine gun like you… why you still running around with old Dutch? Could come ride with me and make real money.”

“You know it ain’t about the money, Colm.”

“That’s right… it’s Dutch’s famous charisma.” In a blur of movement, his food forgotten, he kicked you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you. Your body swung from the chains, which groaned and creaked at the movement. All you could let out was a soft wheeze, your vision going double. “You killed a whole punch of my boys… at Six Point Cabin.”

So why haven’t you killed me yet? You smirked, at least the best you could, your teeth stained red, lip splitting. “One of your own took us there. Bastards had it comin’.”

The click of a gun and the feeling of cold metal against your head made your wish you kept your mouth shut. The final blow was coming at the hands of Colm. Trying to swallow, your throat too dry to do so, you put on a brave face, even though internally you were terrified. There was so much you had left to do, so much left to tell. This wasn’t where your story ended, right?

Closing your eyes, you tried to take deep breaths, fighting down the panic bubbling inside. Do not show him you’re afraid, you thought. Don’t give him the satisfaction of you being afraid in your last moments.

And you waited.

And waited.

You waited until you felt the barrel of the gun slowly pull away, and your eyes shot open, confused. “Yer lucky I need you alive,” Colm snarled, striking you across the face before returning his pistol to its holster, running a hand over his face while circling your body like a vulture. “Law want’s ya alive. All of ya.”

“Best of luck with that, sayin’ you only got one of us.”

“For now.”

“You planning on raiding us?” Colm didn’t respond. “You can tell me. Not leaving here soon anyway.”

“Nah,” Colm began. “Ain’t gotta go to that much trouble to round you up. We lure an angry Arthur in to rescue ya… Dutch and the others following… and grab all of ya and hand ya in… then disappear.”

“So you only met with them to grab me?”

“Of course…” Colm chuckled. “He’s gonna be so mad. He gonna come raging over here… and a whole lot of ya… and the law’ll be waiting for him.” Sighing, he crouched down before you, his rancid breath overwhelming your senses. “Oh, I missed you.”

The first strike went to your gut.

The second went to your bad shoulder.

The third and final strike landed at your nose, blood spraying from the impact.

Groaning, you felt the warm liquid streaming from your nose, joining the puddle beneath you with a soft drip, drip, drip. Colm stood up, grabbing his plate with a huff, shaking out one of hands, his knuckles slightly busted from the strikes. He didn’t say anything as he left, stomping up the stairs loudly, the door slamming shut behind him.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a newfound sense of urgency to escape coming over you, needing to stop Colm’s plan from coming to fruition. Glancing around, you looked again for something to help you escape. Unlike all the other times, however, something caught your eye on the table; whatever utensil Colm had brought down sat there, glinting gently in the light. Luckily for you, it seemed like Colm wasn’t as well trained as his men.

Slowly, you began to rock yourself back and forth, trying to build up enough momentum to reach it. Holding back noises of pain, you rocked, getting closer and closer with every swing, your fingers straining and you reached, and stretched, until finally it was in your grasp. You nearly cried with relief, and after glancing at the utensil in your hand, which was a two-pronged fork, you ceased your swinging, eventually coming to a full stop.

Hands shaking, using whatever scrap of strength you had left in your hands, you bent on of the prongs forward, creating a lockpick like instrument. Now it was time for the hard part, which was trying to reach the padlock that held the shackles around your feet, connecting you to the chains.

Every muscle in your body was begging you to stop, shaking as you slowly started to sit up, your core working overtime to get you up. All you had to do was just reach and disengage the lock. It took a few tries until you were finally able to get it in, and then-

Click.

You didn’t have any tie to brace yourself before you made contact with the floor, going face first into your own blood pool. Rolling on to your back, you let the world stop spinning before sitting up, glancing worriedly at the cellar door to see if anyone heard your commotion.

After no one barged in after a few moments, you began to stand up, your knees giving out as soon as you were upright. Stumbling, you practically fell into the table, nearly knocking over the candle in the process. Your arms were outstretched in front of you, bracing yourself against the table, and you saw a few droplets of blood from your nose hit the wood. Grimacing, you snatched a bloodied cloth from nearby, tearing a small amount off to block off the blood flow.

It was at this point that you really started feeling the gunshot wound in your shoulder. After a quick assessment, you realized it was still an open wound, but it was a clean shot, meaning you wouldn’t have to dig the bullet out of you. Eying both the metal fork in your hand and the candle on the table, you mentally steeled yourself for what you were about to do.

Dragging the chair up next to you and sitting, you heated up the metal instrument until it almost glowed, then before you could lose your nerve, you pressed it to the wound.

It wasn’t the pain that hit you first; it was the smell, which would forever be engraved in your mind. But after you clocked the smell, the pain hit you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming or not, but you continued to hold the device, waiting until you couldn’t see blood spurt out at every beat of your heart.

Groaning, you slumped your head on the table, feeling exhausted after putting yourself through that, but you had only a few seconds to recover before you heard the door open again. Turns out your cries were very much audible.

Pressing yourself against the wall, you heard someone begin to come down the stairs. “Hold on, I’ll be back in a minute,” you heard the stranger say. You recognized the voice; it was one of the torturers.

The man stood at the base of the stairs, dumbfounded, as he took in the empty shackles before him. “What the hell-” That was all he was able to get out before you pounced, the tool finding a home in his throat, and he crumpled to the floor, a small gurgling leaving him before he stilled. The man, unfortunately, was only armed with a knife, which you grabbed, holding it out defensively in front of you as you climbed the stairs. You had to move; it wouldn’t be long until his friends started looking for him.

You had almost reached the exit before two shadows approaching halted your movement, and you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Two men approached, neither of which you recognized. They were chatting as they patrolled, not really paying attention to their surroundings as they patrolled. A few tense minutes later, the figures retreated, and you dashed out as quickly as you could.

Taking in a breath of fresh air, you took in your surroundings: the two guards were to your left, their backs to you; a small shack was in front of you, and you saw some guns lying out; to your right you saw a horse hitching post, and you thanked the unseen forces of the universe that your horse was here; surrounding you were multiple houses, all you presumed were filled with O’Driscolls.

First, you needed a weapon. Then, you were getting the hell out of here.

Moving as quietly and quickly as you could, you kept low, keeping an eye out for any other O’Driscolls. Entering the small wood shack, you grabbed the first gun you saw, and you almost left before you saw a very familiar engraved barrel out the corner of your eye. There, sitting in a wooden crate were your weapons, including your prized rifle.

Swinging it over your shoulder, and securing your gun belt across your waist, you were actually starting to feel hopeful about your chances of survival. Keeping your stolen knife and your pistol out, you poked your head out the door, looking for any guards before taking off toward your horse, still trying to keep hidden.

Once you were close to the horses, you made your presence known, not wanting to spook them. Approaching your mount, you muttered softly, rubbing his neck affectionately. Immediately his eyes flew open, and he began rearing until he realized it was just you.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, boy.”

Something told you he felt the same.

“Let’s go home.”

You were partially up your horse when you heard a commotion behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw a few O’Driscolls emerge from the various houses, guns out and pointed at you, shouting at you and each other. You had just managed to get on before the shots started going off, bullets whizzing past you as Tiny Tim took off like a bat out of hell, hooves barely hitting the ground as you soared across the plane.

You could barely make out anything around you, everything a blur as the wind whipped across your battered body, relishing the feel of fresh air before hearing footsteps behind you. Glancing behind, you saw four O’Driscolls in pursuit, firing wildly in an attempt to stop you.

Aiming behind you, you took a deep breath in, stilling yourself to the best of your ability, taking in each of your targets before squeezing the trigger.

In rapid succession, each man took a bullet to the chest, either stopping them or causing them to go flying off their horse. Within moments your pursuers were gone, leaving only you standing. After hearing no more shouting or hoofbeats, you figured it was safe to holster your weapon. Tiny Tim had slowed down some, a quick trot instead of a full out gallop.

The adrenaline from the last ten minutes was beginning to fade, your drooping eyes evident of your waning energy. Leaving forward, you leaned forward as best you could in your saddle, your arms wrapping loosely around your horses next for some security.

“C’mon TT, get us home.” You whispered, before your eyes closed at their own volition, your thoughts only of Arthur as you slept.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

Text

Spoiled

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Alonso!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Fluff, Lance is the perfect bf, slight smut tease

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Hello!! Don’t know if I’m too late for requests, but I’ve been really dumping to read something about Lance dating Fernando’s sister now that they’re teammates🙊

A/N: listen, I’m still learning how to write for Lance, soooo probably not my best work, but it is what it is

Growing up with Lance was weird. Your brother was close to his father, but you were closer to Lance due to the age gap between you and your brother. Most people would just assume that you and Lance were siblings if Fernando took ya'll out for the day, it took some getting used to, but after a while, no one cared if they thought Fernando was your dad or something.

Lance was always there at the races, so you always hung out with one another, especially when it came to Fernando racing or his father buying tickets for yall to go. Lance was more a friend than a sibling, and Fernando looked out for Lance, even advising him to better his Karting. Lance was traveling more as you both got older, and you had to stay in Spain for more prolonged periods, too, since school was ramping up. Losing contact for a couple of years was rough on Lance. You both are thick as thieves, and it was difficult to pick up the phone and talk, but thankfully you graduated, and Lance was now in F1.

With you coming to watch your brother during your breaks at Uni, you ran into Lance, and that feeling like you were home never left. With both of you being grown up, things had changed. Lance wasn't that lanky, shy boy who would follow you like a puppy. He was now this confident, successful man who was still that comfort you needed. Falling for one another was like breathing air. It came naturally and felt right.

You made the first move since Lance kept to himself, but it didn't stop him from letting you know how he felt. He just didn't want to make things uncomfortable. Remembering that night, you asked him always makes you smile. He had his signature goofy smile and warm brown eyes so full of hope and love for you, you couldn't help but kiss him then.

You didn't out your relationship but weren't necessarily hiding it from people. Lance's family was very welcoming to you, but you grew up with each other, and Lance's mother called it years ago when Lance was following you everywhere. Your brother found out about your relationship when he announced one night during a dinner with both families that he would be driving for Aston Martin. At that point, you and Lance had been together for 2 years.

"I would like to thank the Strolls for giving me this opportunity and for the fact that Lance now has an excuse to see my sister." Fernando laughs after his toast, but everyone just looks around, confused.

"Darling, you know your sister and Lance have been dating for 2 years, right?" Your mother asks while Fernando looks between the two of you.

"What? No, they're not." He scuffs, waving off the idea before he freezes, remembering something.

"Oi, la noche que llegaste a casa ... ¿Desordenado estabas con él?" (Oi, the night you came home... Messy, were you with him?) Fernando asks in Spanish, not wanting to embarrass you in front of the others. You can see the wheels of anger working in his brain as you think of the best thing to say to calm this.

"Hermano, lo amo. Me ha tratado con nada más que respeto y me cuida muy bien." (Brother, I love him. He's treated me with nothing but respect and he takes very good care of me.) You plead with your brother but he just scuffs and stares down Lance who just sits and watches, knowing better than to get between the two siblings.

"You hurt her, and I'll break every fucking bone in your body." Fernando hisses, causing Lance to squirm slightly, but he nods and laces his fingers with yours. Dinner finished with no problems; your parents' drug Fernando away from you two as you walked through Northamptonshire, enjoying the chilly breeze and quietness of the town.

"I love you too," Lance whispers, kissing your cheek and making you smile.

"What was that for?" You ask. Lance might be a softy and spoil you rotten, but he isn't one that randomly says I love you.

"What you told your brother about loving me and how I treat and care for you. I'm saying it back. I love you." He tugs your hand, stopping you, so you look at him.

"You knew what I said?" You gasped, wanting to hide as you weren't openly affectionate. You more so did than told your love.

"Of course, I learned Spanish for you after we turned 16." He admits shrugging his shoulders and pulling you slightly, getting you walking again.

"Lance," You whisper, stopping, you pull him back towards you, making him waver slightly, but he steadies himself quickly, hands finding their usual place on your hips.

You don't care if you're in public; honestly, it's late, and you want to do nothing more than kiss your boyfriend. You lean in, kissing him gently; he stiffens but soon relaxes. His grip tightens on your waist as he pulls you closer. He can't help himself as he gets lost in your taste and smells hands moving away from your waist and to your ass, not even caring as he squeezes it tight.

"Lance." You whimper against his lips, fingers scratching the back of his neck in the way he loves. The groan that leaves his mouth sends your brain buzzing, unable to form thoughts other than him.

"Baby, wait, hold on." He mumbles, pulling away as you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. "Fuck." He groans, almost losing himself in you again.

"The car." He breathes, kissing your forehead and ensuring no one sees you both.

Lance was very protective of you simply because you both have seen the hate that women close to F1 get, and he'd honestly rip anyone to shreds if they so much as did that to you. Guiding you to the car, he kisses you one last time before hopping into the driver's seat. You sit back and stare at Lance as he drives through town and heads home.

You moved in with Lance about 5 months ago, and really thinking about it, your brother should've been able to tell that you both were dating, but he was clueless. The drive was quiet except for soft kisses on each other hands and the sound of the blinker as Lance drove home. Arriving home, Lance bolts to your door, never letting you open your door in front of him, it always made you giggle, but he wanted to treat you properly.

Lance pulls you into his chest, hugging you as he pushes the button for the elevator leaving feather-light kisses on your forehead and neck occasionally. The door dings open, putting you in your living room, but you stop walking, causing Lance to trip over you.

The hallway and room it's lined with your favorite flowers, candies, and boxes that look like jewelry. You look at Lance, who's blushing up a storm and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Everything I saw, you'd love so....I bought everything." He admits as you just sigh and kiss his cheek. You don't argue about him buying you stuff because he won't stop, so why fight about it. But, you know, one way to get back at him.

You walk over to one of the jewelry boxes and open it. A stunning emerald choker lays there, almost the exact color of Aston Martin.

"Lance, I'm wearing this to bed. And only this." You smile, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

"Damn, I do love spoiling you." He groans, your laughter bouncing off the walls as he kicks the door closed. Like you said, he doesn't like anyone else seeing you.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #formula one #Lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #Lance imagine #Lance scenario #aston martin #f1 smut #f1 imagines #aston martin f1 #f1 one shot #f1 fluff

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diazsdimples · 1 month

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings and @puppyboybuckley (who published the final chapter of the Mudslide Fic, PLEASE go read it!)

I wasn’t gonna do this today cause I had the shift from hell and didn’t manage to write anything yesterday between birthday things but I managed to cobble this together after my shift! Frostpunk AU weirdly came back to me so please enjoy this small snippet!

Much to Buck’s relief, both Edmundo and Christopher are still alive when they make it back to the city, in record time as Bobby will have him believe. Rappelling down the cliff with two semi-conscious, reasonably unstable patients is more difficult than they’d initially anticipated, so in a rush of fear as he watches Bobby struggle with Christopher, Buck offers to bring the boy down himself.

Much like they did the day Buck carried Christopher to the cabin, they strap the child to Buck’s chest, using a small harness stored in the med kit on a “just in case” basis. Christophers head clunks repetitively against Buck’s chest as he pushes them off the cliff, slowly letting the rope out with each jump. He wishes that it wasn’t a two-hand job, that he could cradle Christopher’s head with one hand and keep the rope moving with the other.

Above him, Bobby abseils down with Edmundo dangling to the side of him in a basket. They’d done one last temperature check on the two of them before descending into the heavy, cold mist that lay over the city, and Edmundo’s had been the lowest they’d seen it since the rescue. The way Eli’s face had paled and he’d instantly tugged Bobby aside, talking with him in low, hushed tones was enough to tell Buck about the state of his health.

It made a cold, thrill of fear rush down Buck’s spine, settling in the pit of his stomach as a constant reminder of how precarious Edmundo and Christopher’s situation was, as he carried the small boy to safety.

The moment Buck and Christopher touched the ground, they were pounced on by a team of medics, headed by Hen.

“What’s the story, Buck?” Hen asked as she hurried to help peel off Buck’s outer layers and unclip him from the harness.

“Found this guy and his dad half frozen yesterday. He’s probably 7 or 8 years old and got moderate to severe hypothermia. Eli’s been monitoring him and he’s stable but barely conscious. Probably malnourished and seriously dehydrated,” Buck pants as he lowers Christopher onto the stretcher Hen has prepared. The kid’s light brown curls fall over his face, curling against his eyelids and Buck reaches out a tender hand to brush them back before he can stop himself.

If Hen notices, she chooses not to mention the look in his eyes as he does this.

“Alright, we’re going to take him to the med tent now. What about his dad?” Hen asks as two medics swiftly hoist Christopher’s stretcher into the air and run off in the direction of the nearest med tent.

Buck watches, half in a daze as Edmundo is lowered to the ground. His lips are pale and chapped, and his face looks lifeless and devoid of colour as his head lols to the side. A sick feeling creeps through Buck’s body as he thinks of how close they came to not making it back. How close Christopher came to losing his father.

“This is Edmundo Diaz, severe hypothermia, dehydration and malnourishment. He’s had issues with his oxygen and heart rate consistently through the journey home. Hen, he’ll need around the clock care, someone to stay with him, to keep an eye on him,” Buck says, hearing the urgency in his voice as he speaks. He doesn’t know what compels him, other than a sense that Edmundo is the other half of a magnet that’s drawing him ever closer, but Buck continues talking. “You guys can’t spare another medic but I-I don’t mind sitting with him. I’m good at taking his vitals a-and I could keep an eye on the kid.”

Hen eyes him, as if trying to read what his true motivation is. “Go,” she finally says, inclining her head towards the tent. Buck doesn’t need to be told twice.

No pressure tagging @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @elvensorceress @rainbow-nerdss @wikiangela @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz

#james writes #frostpunk au #tired words that probably don’t make sense #hoping this pulls me out of my writing funk #buddie #eddie diaz #911 abc #evan buckley #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #911 #eddie x buck

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tomieafterdark · 1 year

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“Eren we can’t have sex here, it’s sacrilege..18+”

want more content? check out my masterlist

pairing: virgin!fem!reader x corruption kink!eren

summary: innocent “history of religion” college trip turns absolutely scandalous when the devil himself, Eren Yeager happens to be part of that trip the same year as you.

cw: sacrilege, loss of virginity, masturbation (f), name calling (whore slut etc), use of good girl, use of baby, use of lamb once or twice, probably historically incorrect info about churches (yes I didn’t do research bite me), Eren wants to be called God, Heavenly Father and daddy, reader is religious but not overly, mentions of holy statues and religious symbols (cross) yes the bible is mentioned once (yes ik im going to hell along with everyone who will enjoy this), Eren is a bit into corruption, manipulation(?), hickeys, biting, blood (just on readers neck).

🃏 DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CONTINUING TO READ, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT AND THE DARK CONTENT STATED IN CONTENT WARNING 🃏

You have always loved history and religion, those were your favourite subjects, ever since you were young you loved reading the bible with your parents. You loved learning more about your own religion and it’s history as well, so when your college had announced that they’d fund you on the annual “The History Of Religion” trip, you were filled with joy. You couldn’t afford it by yourself, and it was only for second years in your college program so you were beyond thankful for this literal once in a lifetime opportunity.

Day one: arriving at your first location

It’s a rather cold summer night even though it is mid July, you and everyone else on the trip quickly grab your bags and follow your teacher to the hotel lobby to escape the cold night. It’s not exactly warm there either, you shudder. As soon as everyone gets the keys to their rooms, they’re off before you can blink. Not a single person in sight, not even any of the hotel workers. This sucks, you needed help carrying your bags, you had brought three bags meanwhile everyone else just brought one. You sigh, this is going to be a long trip to your room.

“You need a hand?” A low voice asks.

You turn around, it’s a very tall and handsome man. He has beautiful emerald green eyes, brown hair in a bun. Nice build too. You recognise him, probably seen him around campus before…you can’t just remember when and where.

“Yes, that would be amazing” you smile.

“I’m Eren by the way, Eren Yeager.” He reaches out his hand to shake yours.

“Nice to meet you Eren, I’m y/n.” You shake his hand, it’s so big. You seem so tiny compared to him. You notice him staring at your hard nipples that are pushing against your thin crop top. You blush lightly and grab on to your cross necklace, you’d never admit it but you don’t mind a good looking guy like Eren staring at you like that. Heck, you’d let him do more than just stare.

“Shall we?“ he says grabbing two of your bags, on top of his own.

“Uh- yeah sure” you quickly follow.

“What floor are you on y/n?”

“Second”

“Looks like we’re on the same floor then, and you’re in room 4, right next to me in room 3.”

You thank Eren for helping you with the bags.

“I’ll be off then. Let me know if you need anything y/n. Good night” he says.

“Good night Eren” you say, quickly closing the door behind you. Just when you thought this trip wouldn’t get more exciting, a nice handsome guy like Eren shows up.

Eren walks back into his room, he is so exhausted he doesn’t even bother taking off his clothes before slowly dozing off to sleep.

“Aah- fuck” “nghh- oh god fuck”

Eren practically jolts up from his slumber, those moans sounded way too real to be his imagination. He freezes up, trying to locate where the sound is coming from. His eyes light up when he realises where it’s from. It’s from the other side of his bedroom wall, where your room is.

The sounds of your pussy squelching are louder than you think and Eren hears it all. “Looks like I won’t go to sleep early after all” he thinks to himself, already feeling his dick twitch every time moans and sloppy lewd sounds leave your room and escape through that one thin wall between the two of you. Your pretty sounds continue, only now you’re moaning someone’s name.

“Oh god, Eren. Fuck me, use me like your fuck toy” “

Eren smirks. He remembers the cross around your neck from earlier. “And here I thought you were a good little servant of god, and you’re crying out for me to use you like a fuck toy?? I guess that cross necklace is just for aesthetics no good religious girl would be this lewd for a guy she just met would she...”

Day two: the guided tour starts

You haven’t seen Eren all morning, you’re kind of disappointed. You had hoped to have breakfast with him at the hotel and hang out a bit, before the guided tour of the old church would start. He really caught your interest, and he was such a kind guy.

As you’re all getting ready to get on the bus, you look around for him. Maybe he is around here somewhere?? But nope, you still cannot see him anywhere, just like breakfast. You give up on your idea of wanting to spend the bus ride with Eren, seems that isn’t happening either. You take your seat by the window, all the way back at the bus and scroll through your Spotify playlist.

They end up starting the tour without Eren, because after that long bus ride he is still nowhere to be seen. You hear your annoyed teacher mumble something about Eren being lazy and letting daddy’s money and reputation fix everything for him, and then apologise about making everyone wait for one student who couldn’t bother to show up. The tour has officially started and Eren Yeager is still nowhere to be seen.

You end up eventually forgetting about Eren, your tour guide really knows what he is talking about. You’re so happy here, it feels like your element for sure. This one place the guide took you guys to, even gave you small gift bags with local candies, a light brown candle and some mini guide books about the history of the place.

Next spot is an old ancient church, you have been extremely excited for this one. It is a very very important part of the towns history and a very important part of your religions history as well, they only allow three guided tours per year here because it’s so important. And here you are, having the privilege to be present during one of those rare trips. You are admiring the outside as the guide walks you guys to the church doors, you are full of butterflies.

The whole group gasps when the doors open. This church has been untouched for hundreds of years if not more, everything is original. You couldn’t be happier. The guided tour of the inside officially starts now.

Day two: end of the tour..

Right as the tour is almost ending and you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look back, it is Eren. His emerald green eyes are staring right into your soul.

“Eren! Where have you been all day?” You get flashbacks of how you felt last night, and the feeling is creeping back. The way he is staring into your eyes has your stomach full of butterflies. You feel your face heating up a bit, hoping it’s not visible because you can’t exactly blame the nonexistent heat. How is this place not warm mid July?

“I was just busy with something, family stuff.” He is lying, he wasn’t busy with family stuff he had just been forced to go on this trip because his dad wants him to stop sleazing around, he had planned to miss every guided tour on this trip though. That is until he met you last night, which made him decide that maybe some of the tours were worth going to. His aura is different today, it is sinister and dark.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Eren. I hope it gets better.” Since you had no idea about the truth, you felt bad for him assuming it was something serious. You say a quick prayer for Eren in your head, incase it’s serious. How sweet and naive of you to believe a stranger you met last night.

The guide officially ended the tour, just as you’re about to walk out with the rest of the group Eren pulls you in to a corner. He puts his hand on your mouth, and tells you to be quiet. You feel a little worried. it must be something important if he has to pull you to the side like this…

Day two: the church doors closed..

“Eren, whatever it is be quick they just closed the door. The teacher will count everyone and if I’m not there, they’ll know” you say, mildly stressed realising you might get sent home for staying behind here after the tour ends.

“Don’t worry y/n” he smirks. “I slipped a note to the teacher before coming over to you. You felt sick and went back to the hotel earlier, you went quietly to not bother the tour and ruin it for the other good students. You are fine.”

“Alright Eren, what could be so important that you had to go and write an entire note for?” You ask.

He corners you against the church wall and puts his hand above your head, cold emerald eyes stare deep into your soul again. “I heard you last night y/n” he says, still coldly staring.

You feel your entire face and ears heating up. He can’t mean— no fucking way. It can’t be…you grab on to your cross necklace for emotional support because this is too much for you.

“Why so quiet now all of a sudden y/n? You were definitely not quiet last night.”

You are so shocked and embarrassed, you nearly lose balance but he catches you. He comes closer to your face.

“Your pretty little moans had me up all night“

You feel your pussy clenching around nothing at this point, but you’re avoiding eye contact to not go any further. This is an educational trip you cannot let your hormones ruin it. You have to stay focused. But a part of you also wants to give in, the purity culture your parents and church presented to you was never your thing, you’ve been sheltered until recently and a part of you really wanted to see how far you can go with Eren…maybe even lose your virginity to him.

He puts his hands on your thighs, and slowly explores them. He doesn’t do anything, he just waits for you to make the next move. This is fucking torture for you, it’s a fight between your horny self and the part of you that just wants to take things slow and stay a virgin a little longer because of a subconscious fear of disappointing god and your parents. The desire to explore and to distance yourself from your past wins. Your body betrays you. You wrap your arms around Eren and whisper “I want you” into his ears, sending chills down his spine.

“You want me to what baby? Use your words.” He says as he grabs a handful of your thigh.

“I want you to take my virginity Eren Yeager.”

Eren cannot believe what he just heard, a hottie like you is a virgin? He is too horny to process anything else and goes straight into kissing you and prepping you. He smiles as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around him automatically without any directions. You’re feeling euphoric, this is such a big moment for you. Taking a big step into adulthood, being independent, taking control of your own sexuality…you’re so lost in pleasure you don’t notice him carrying you and placing you on the church altar.

Erens hands wander your thighs, he is glad you picked this tiny skirt for today. Easy access. Fuck, a white tennis skirt has never looked this good on someone. He is definitely fucking you with the skirt on, you look way too good in it.

His hands feel so damn good on your thighs, you want them to go higher up. You need them to wander higher, explore places only your own hands have been before.

Eventually his hands go exactly where you wanted them, he can feel your wetness through your pretty lace thong. “You’re already soaking wet, such a good girl” he coos.

You just moan in return, searching for his mouth to continue kissing.

Eren is amused by how you don’t seem to mind fucking in a holy church like this, let alone on the altar where a statue of a very holy figure is right above you. Especially with that cross necklace of yours..so you’re not religious and it’s for aesthetic reasons?

He is wrong, it’s not for aesthetic reasons and you definitely haven’t noticed where you are. You totally forgot about it a while ago, completely lost in the pleasure you’ve denied yourself for so long. You feel one of his fingers slip inside you as his thumb works your clit.

“F-fuck Eren” you whine. “so fucking big- Aah!”

Eren gives your neck heavenly kisses, then kisses turn into sucking and he is putting hickeys all over your neck. Marking you as his, when hickeys aren’t enough he bites your neck making sure it leaves a bloody mark. You cry out from the pain but with everything else going on, like his finger pumping your pussy the pain soon mixes with pleasure and you and up soaking his fingers more and more. He slips another finger in, you clench immediately.

“Fuuck! Eren oh my go-“

Eren fantasises about the last sentence you just said. “Oh my god” he thinks. He could get used to that one, perhaps even fuck you so good he’d have you call him God or Heavenly Father. Eren smirks. The dark sinister energy is back.

“I-I’m gonna cum”

He instantly pulls his fingers out. “Not on my fingers, bend over”

You bend over, upper body on the altar, legs on the floor now. He lifts you skirt. While he unbuckles his belt, reality hits you. You’re still at the holy church..and you’re on the altar..and the statue. The holy statue is staring right at you. You’re absolutely not going to lose your virginity like this…memories of your past flash back.

“Eren…” you turn back to him. “Wait.”

Eren looks at you with a confused look.

“Did you also forget where we are? Come on let’s go out. We can’t have sex here it’s sacrilege…”

Realisation hits Eren. You are not wearing that religious symbol necklace for the aesthetics, you ARE religious and on top of that you weren’t open to fucking in a church you were just so horny you had completely forgotten about everything else. He puts his hand on your back and refuses to let you get up. This is his dream come true. Corrupting a good little religious girl like you, a virgin one on top of that.

“Hey! Eren get your hand off, we can’t have sex here I’m serious!! I don’t want to lose my virginity like this, it’s sacrilege!!” You glare at him.

Eren doesn’t care he just teases your entrance with his tip. God, you’re leaking all over his tip. Your words end up as incoherent blabber, you unconsciously are trying to push yourself onto his tip to get more of him inside you. But you’re trying to find the inner strength to get up and walk away especially now that his grip loosens up. But no, instead you arch your back against him like a bitch in heat.

He lets go of your back fully and grabs your throat instead, gets closer to your ear and whispers in a husky voice “now that you are done playing games, look up at that beautiful holy statue while I slide into you and take your precious virginity. Don’t look away. Okay??”

“W-why” is all you can get out. How did this sweet guy suddenly become the devil to you. One second ago you thought you’d lose your virginity in any place but here, you thought he was a normal guy. “Who or what are you Eren” is all you are thinking right now.

“I want you to denounce your god, even if it’s just for a while. I’m your new god. Look at the statue as I fuck you, and don’t call me Eren. You can call me God or Heavenly Father..daddy works too. Got that baby? Or should I say lamb now since the lord is apparently your shepherd.” He snickers.

What kind of blasphemy was this devil spitting and why was a part of you enjoying it, your pussy was so wet it was clenching around nothing as his tip was hovering right underneath you, you could feel a heartbeat down there. You didn’t mind losing your virginity before marriage, you weren’t THAT religious but surely this is wrong? This is disrespectful and too much? Your head was getting dizzy..

You’re trying so hard to resist, with eyes shut you’re repeating verses from your holy book in your head right now. “When he came to the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into the devils sick and twisted temptation.”

Eren lightly slaps your face. “Open your eyes whore, and look at the statue for me.”

Eventually you disappoint your god, your parents and god knows who else… and give into the devils sweet, intoxicating temptation.

You look at the statue, teary eyed but your body is screaming for Erens. Wanting Erens warm skin against yours, wanting him deep inside of you.

He continues holding on to your hair, and slides it in. “Oh FUCK” you cry out. This was way bigger than you’d expected but it fits so perfectly, filling every inch of you. “Oh god” you cry out. You feel that knot in your stomach again but it is nothing like the one you feel when you finger yourself. This is overpowered, like ten times more intense. He stays still inside you for a bit, waiting for you to get comfortable around it and starts to slowly move in and out of you. After a while, you get used to it and you feel like you’re about to explode any minute.

Eren pushes all the candles and other stuff off the altar, and lays you down on it. He gets up, puts your legs behind your ears and pounds you into the altar. You feel so horrible mentally because of this, every time you look up the statue is looking right down on you. But your body feels fucking amazing, you’ve never ever been this wet and you’ve never felt this fantastic. His dick is so good, everyone said the first time hurts but he prepped you so good you genuinely don’t remember any pain.

“Fuck- Eren I’m gonna cum” you whimper.

Eren glares at you. “What did I say baby, you don’t call me Eren now while I fuck you stupid in this church. It’s God, daddy or Heavenly Father..”

It felt so wrong to call Eren God or Heavenly Father, daddy was a bit better.

You took one last look at the statue, then at Eren who was pounding into your pussy balls deep. You sigh. All teary eyed you whimper “please daddy, I’m so close-“

Eren kisses you and plays with your clit, doing everything to make you squirt on his dick. Yes it’s your first time, no he doesn’t care he will make you squirt. He is determined to be your everything, he will fuck you so silly and stupid, he will fuck Gods existence out of your little head. He will do anything to get there.

You finally cum, as you do Eren grabs your hair and looks into your eyes as you’re in total bliss. He keeps thrusting into you and every time he does, your pussy squirts all over again.

“T-thank you” is all you manage to get out.

“Thank you who” he says coldly and not impressed at all.

You know what he wants to hear, it’s not daddy this time. He wants you to you use one of the other names.

“Thank you Heavenly Father” you mumble, embarrassed and full of shame.

“Good girl.” He snickers. He gets so high off your embarrassment but also at the fact that you still do it despite how it feels just for some dick. “If it’s dick she wants I’ll really give it to her, I’ll give her something she will never forget. This is nothing..” he thinks.

You hated calling Eren those names but deep down inside you, the sickly perverted and twisted part of you wanted more, she wanted to beg God to fuck her harder, she wanted to beg the Heavenly Father to forgive her for ever worshipping anyone but him. She’d do anything to cum on his dick again, right now there was nothing in this world that felt better than cumming on his dick…

“Please God, make me cum again” you’re shocked at what you just said. Are you really giving in for some DICK?? Not money, not good extra credits for college but dick. Dick from a guy you officially met yesterday. He really is the devil…how did he get you like this.

Eren gives you a sinister smirk in return. ”whatever baby wants baby gets” he says and fucks you at the most perfect rhythm suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what you needed but only gave it in exchange for your embarrassment and denouncement of your previous god..Eren you fucking devil.

“I know what you’re thinking y/n, I’m the devil to your previous God huh. But at least this God gives you something in return. When was the last time HE gave you anything you asked for” he says as he points up at the statue.

You feel your pussy clenching again, he feels it too around him.

“You want to cum again baby??” He coos into your ear.

“Yes God” you cry out in reply, feeling so close yet so far away. He won’t give you that last bit of friction to let you cum. Such a tease.

“Then atone for your sins my lamb”

You don’t even care anymore, you’re chasing your high and you’re gonna get it. Fuck it is hell even real? Who cares at this point. You’re so cockdrunk it doesn’t even matter, forgetting every bit of your past and what mother and father taught you, the religion you once were part of is out of the picture.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned, I sinned so gravely. I worshipped a false idol, I was blinded by his false light. Please Heavenly Father forgive me, I am only a mere human. I make mistakes” you almost start crying, you got so serious with your prayer it almost snapped you back to reality where Eren is the actual false idol but he fucks you good and makes you cum instantly after that confession you did, instantly pulling you in again. More cockdrunk than before. He smirks at the statue as you whimper and cry under him, wetting the entire altar.

Your pussy twitches, even as Eren puts his dick out.

“Open your mouth baby, and stick your tongue out” he says.

You open that pretty mouth of yours in an instant, waiting for his next order.

“Look at that statue one last time as I cum on your pretty tongue.” He shoots his cum on your tongue but not all of it, he makes sure to mess around and shoot it on the statue as well.

You were so tired you passed out, he ends up cleaning you up and carrying you out of there. He brings you back to the hotel in time without anyone noticing.

Day three: bad news

You wake up to notifications on your phone, the history trip group chat is blowing up. You look at the texts and it’s all links to articles about the church being ruined, how there’s DNA there but they’re unable to identify who did it because they meddled with it. As if they’re giving a big middle finger to the community. It must be Eren, you think to yourself but you’re not sure how he did it. You give him a call.

Eren: hey y/n.

Y/n: Eren..the news.

Eren: it’s okay y/n, I got us covered. My dad owns a medical company, I’ve been to their lab and they have more than just medicine.

Y/n: what? That’s not even possible. Science is not exactly there yet…

Eren: you clearly don’t know my dad, whatever y/n you need to come down to breakfast. And whatever you do, don’t act all suspect. Also make sure to hide your hickeys.

Y/n: Eren?? What even are we?

Eren: Y/n, come down now. *hangs up*

a/n: I want to punch this fic in the face it’s the fourth time I’m reposting because the tags are breaking rip i can’t with tumblr sorry if something is missing as well I re wrote it in an hour because I accidentally deleted it 🥲🥲 idk if all writers have that one fic that traumatised them but if that’s a thing then THIS IS MINE. Hope you enjoyed it though 🧡

#aot smut #Eren smut #eren x y/n #Eren x reader #Eren Yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan smut

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world-of-aus · 7 months

Text

All I'll Ever Need

Pairing: Bull Rider!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I've been in my cowboy, bullrider funk and I needed this out! I hope you all enjoy this piece, as always happy reading! Now back to my dark cave, I go.

It’s a high live event tonight, the grounds large enough for not only the main attraction bull riding, but the other rodeo sports being held this evening. You work your way through the crowd, the boy on your hip wiggling around in hopes to get higher to spot his father over the large crowd. You hike the brown haired, grey-eyed boy higher on your hip, the excitement coursing through his tiny body as you cross the arena grounds. Natasha and Wanda had texted you minutes prior after having parked the truck that they had just barely managed to secure the four of you good seats in the stands overlooking the ground.

Squeezing your way through the masses your feet meet the stands wooden stairs, you climb them carefully till your standing on the landing looking left then right as you look for your group. “Look!” Your attention is directed by the six-year-old over to the farthest corner on the right, Wanda and Natasha waving at the two of you wildly with their hats, Bucky standing tall behind them on the iron gates.

Grant snatches the hat that matches his dad’s off his head, waving it around just as wildly as his aunts. A sharp whistle pierces the air the boy’s eyes snapping past the awaiting women to the matching pair of cerulean blue waiting for him, how he hadn’t seen his father yet surprises you, but the boy becomes a bucking bronco in your hold till you’re releasing him from your grip. His form slips from your body as he runs through the stands to where his father awaits perched.

You chase after him, excusing yourself past the other patrons already in their seats. Natasha waits for the tiny brunette who is feet ahead of you with open arms, his body falling into his aunts hold as she hoists him high, his hat surpassing the both of them as he lets out a squeal of joy. He reaches for his father next, who takes him in even stronger arms squeezing his son to his broad chest.

You nearly falter in your steps at the sight, your heart racing, body warming at the sight before you. The bond the two shared was unlike any other you had experienced. Bucky Barnes had a hard time believing he could be the father his son needed when his mother just up and left two months into Grants first year of life, but he had proven himself wrong time and time again. There’s amazement in Grants eyes and love in Buckys as he explains to his son all about the ongoing events.

You close the distance saddling up next to Natasha as you hear Bucky’s promise to Grant to take him riding for the first time this week that he had off. “I’m all your’s bud, whaddya say? Uncle Steve and Sam can help too, aunt Wanda and Natasha can bring your favorite snacks.”

“Can y/n come too daddy, can she!” Bucky’s eyes find yours, pink lips curling into a breathtaking smile. “Of course she can bud,” he replies eyes never leaving yours, “that’s of course if she wants, think she might need a break from us boys bud, you’ve get her chasing you all day.”

Your lips curl in return, “I haven’t missed one of his firsts yet Barnes, don’t plan on doing so anytime soon. You can count me in, besides there’s no one I love to chase more.” A squeal of joy erupts from the smaller long-haired brunette and you’re just barely moving forward to catch his form as he jumps at you, his hat knocking yours clean off your head. Small but mighty arms wrap around your neck, his round cheeks smushing against yours as he thanks you profusely, promising you bouts of fun. Bouts of fun that you knew no matter what would be delivered. You’d spend the rest of your days with the Barnes boys if life itself allowed it.

The world melts away in the hug, your focus solely on the boy in your arms as you squeeze him just as tightly to you. “You going to show your dad how it’s done, how the real cowboys ride?” you question in a teasing tone as you pull back to look at the boy. The excitement he lets out draws a laugh from your group, “he’s going to be a hell of a lot better than I am that’s for sure.” Bucky chuckles, your eyes find his, “If he is, it’s only because he has a pretty awesome father to thank, give yourself credit B, you’re doing an amazing job with little man here.”

You don’t think you’ll ever tire catching the moments Bucky goes bashful under your gaze, the only sign that the man before you could feel the same, well as for what your friend's turned family all say. The brunette goes to reply but Steve is calling for him over his shoulder; his turn was coming around. You wave at the bearded dirty-blonde, grant following suit the hat coming too as he waves it around. You move forward into Bucky’s space to say your goodbye’s, grants arms going around his father as he gives him a tight squeeze. When the two pull away you fall in next, your arm that isn’t holding grant going around Bucky’s back, “you better be safe out there B,” you murmur into his ear, “you’ve got a little one that’s going to be watching your every move.” His chuckle rumbles deep within his chest, fingers curling tighter into your skin as he squeezes you much like his son, “is he the only one that’s going to be watching me ride tonight?”

The pinch you deliver to Bucky’s back has the broad-shouldered brunette pulling back that same chuckle bubbling out of his chest this time. “don’t be a smart-ass B, I’m being serious be safe out there.” His hand finds yours fingers curling with your own, lips meeting your intertwined fingers, “riding bulls is in my blood sweetheart you know I’ll be careful.”

“James Buchanan Barnes I’m being serious.”

His grin is heart melting as he pulls you and Grant back in, squeezing the two of you before placing a kiss to the side of your head. “I promise, I’m coming out of those gates to you.” His words stall your heart, but you tell yourself he’s not coming for you, he’s coming for the son you hold, his boy, his whole world. You let him go with Grant yelling for his dad to be careful, Bucky sends him a wave over his shoulder as he moves over to the gates Steve and Sam wait for him by. You take your seat between Natasha and Wanda settling Grant on your legs as you let him watch the current rider burst through the farthest Gate. Grant is lost in the show, his eyes bright as he watches the rider hold strong to the bull.

“Don’t know how much more proof you need.” Your eyes flit over to the blonde sitting next to you, “proof?” you question. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, “yeah, proof to see that that man by those gates is just as taken with you as you are with him.” You snort eyes gliding over to said man that stands at the farthest bucking chute awaiting his turn. There’s a snorting angry bull just below him, but his eyes are on you, your retort gets stuck on your tongue. Steve’s passing him his protective headgear an exchange for the hat he wore on his head. He sends you a final wink before placing the helmet on and falling over the bull who only bucks harder with his added weight.

Your heart races away in your chest as you watch him get into position, one hand going just above his head as the other laces its way around the rope tied to the bull. A buzzer goes off somewhere in the air, the gate slams open the bull racing out. Grants high on his feet as he watches his dad, fingers curled around the railing as he watches. You didn’t even notice the boy crawl off your lap your own breath caught in your throat as you watch that bull buck for his life to get Bucky off of him. Just 8 seconds you think as you push to your feet standing behind grant, just 8 seconds, hold on, hold on, hold on....

The air is electric as the buzzer goes off, patrons flying from seats to cheer Bucky on just as he falls from the bull, the clowns running in to get him out. Grant can hardly wait to get to his father once he’s getting out of the main arena. He’s grabbing your hand pulling, barely giving you a chance to tell the girls where you’re going, though they already know.

You follow the brown-haired boy as he tugs your through the stands, getting you two down on the ground before racing his way to where he knows he’ll find his dad and uncles. The crowd on the dirt ground clears, Grant seeing Bucky ways ahead laughing with his uncles. His hand falls away from yours the boy barreling with all his might towards the three men his fathers names falling from his lips to grab his attention. The three men turn to the barreling boy, Bucky moving forward to meet his boy halfway.

You slow your steps watching the two reunite Bucky lifting Grant in the air as he pulls his son in. Natasha and Wanda catch up to you, linking their arms with yours as they pull you forward. Steve and Sam move also, your group, your family moving closer as you close the distance. Hugs are shared as you finally greet Sam and Steve, “good to see you sweetheart!” Steve greets as he pulls you in for a hug

You pinch Steve in the ribs as if you hadn’t seen him earlier in the morning when you went to help Bucky with a still sleeping Grant. “You saw me this morning Steve,” you laugh, “it’s good to see you too though.”

“Move it over Rogers, favorite coming through,” Sam says as he pulls the bearded blonde coming in for a hug of his own. A wet kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Sammy,” you breathe squeezing the man just as tight, “always so good to see you!” Sam's grinning, "see," he tells the group, "favorite." Wanda moves in when you pull away her lips finding Sam's, "everyone knows Grant is y/n's favorite," she laughs as she pulls away, "but you're mine." Your group coo's at the two, Steve holding Nat under his arm, Sam holding Wanda, "Grant's not the only Barnes that y/n favors," Natasha grins.

You want to roll your eyes at her attempt, but the strong arm falling over your shoulder has you biting your tongue. You look over at the bearded brunette who's already looking right back at you, holding the bright boy who holds your heart, "good thing she's our favorite too." You could out yourself now to the man holding you protectively under his arm but you bite your tongue instead leaning further into his touch. His lips find the side of your head, "we should go catch the rest of the rides," Steve mentions, "we've gotta go check the trailers locked though," Bucky answers.

"Why don't you and y/n go check," Natasha offers, already moving forward to grab Grant, "we'll stop at the concessions first, save y’all a seat." They leave you no space for argument as Natasha urges your group to go, "see you in a bit," she calls over her shoulder, "take all the time you need!"

You inwardly groan at their antics, Bucky chuckles pulling you with him, "C'mon sweetheart, let's go check that trailer." You let him whisk you along the arena grounds, the feeling of being under his arm all consuming, it felt right, it felt like the two of you belonged, though there was never a moment in the years that you've know Bucky that being with him didn't feel right.

Then why couldn't it have been you?

Why her?

"You know," Bucky starts suddenly as he turns you towards the lot that holds the trailers, "you really are our favorite." You glance up at him smile on your lips as you continue to walk further into the lot, "that so B?"

He nods, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smile, "how could you not be," he answers, "know you almost my whole life, you've stuck with me through it all even those moments you didn't need to, seen me at my worst and never thought to hell with this and walked away from me because nothing was tying you to me. If anything you grabbed my hand held tight and dragged me from the fire and Grant, god with Grant - I - I could never express how grateful I am for you, you took up a responsibility you didn't ask for, helped me raise a boy that wasn't yours. You never gave up on us."

You're glad you've come up to his trailer because his words have you halting in your step, your body stopping his from going any further. You turn to face him, "And I would do it all over if I had to," you respond with conviction, "you, Grant, you both mean the world to me. There's nothing you could ask of me that I wouldn't do for you. For either of you. You've been my best friend for years, stood with me as well when I needed you." He shakes his head the two of you knowing that statement isn't all true especially when Dolores had been in the picture, but you couldn't bring yourself to blame him, not now, not then. He was in love, and he thought she was too. He thought she was the one, you all did.

"I could have been better to you, after all you've done for me, for us."

You're shaking your head in return, your hand coming up to rest against his stubbled cheek. An act you've done before that feels so different now. "You were what I needed when I needed you to be B, I was in no position to ask more of you. All I knew was that when the time came I wanted to return that favor, I wanted to be what you needed." It falls silent between the two of you, eyes locked on one another in a gaze that you aren't sure you'd ever say Bucky Barnes would look at you with.

Strong warm hands come up to cup your cheeks, your breath is stolen in a moment. "Sweetheart - you're all I ever needed, I just didn't think I deserved someone like you, but the more time I spend with you, the more time I see you with Grant - I want to be that someone, I don't want to waste anymore time just being your friend."

You've lost count of how often Bucky has left you speechless, so you do what you've only ever dreamed of doing. Curling your fingers into the lapels of his shirt, you tug him closer, your lips finding his in an all-consuming kiss.

You didn't want to waste any more time either.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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diejager · 1 year

Note

I dont know if you write about it and it’s fine if you dont but I just wanna share my thoughts, if it’s alright with you. 🙂

Know what would make the siblings with Ghost fic? Inc*st. You’ve already laid the groundwork for it, tbh.

Being together most of the time in public and in private settings, men not being able to approach Doc due to Ghost intimidating them, the physical intimacy that is present and constant, and both being closed off to anyone else but to each other. It’s all there, just a bit more darkness and…tada!

I wont say anything anymore as I do not wish to offend you if this is not your cup of tea. But if it is, then I will look forward to your great work, as usual. Thank you and have a good day. 🥰

You, anon, are so blasphemously brilliant. Inc*st isn’t something I’ve done, and isn’t good per se irl, but this is fictional works. So, yeah, here ya go :D And like I said, I’m pretty loose with what I’m willing to write. PS. I am SO going to hell for this-

Pairing : big brother Simon “Ghost” Riley x lil sister reader

Cw: DARK, INC*ST, smut, yandere, DUB-CON, fingering, self-hate, tell me if I missed anything. Wc: 1.4k

NOTE: You've been warned about the content, if you don't like Inc*st, don't read it. Just don't report it, cuz that would be annoying.

YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY AND YOURS ALONE.

He knew it was wrong, the sheer sinful shame of his acts towards you made him a monster, a vile creature, one worse than the abusive father you shared. His intentions, his thoughts, his needs, they were so wrong, too wrong that he had to choke down the disgust that riled in his guts.

I’m disgusting, he repeated those words a dozen times, a hundred times, a million times, how many times he needed to get them to stop himself. I’m so fuckin’ disgusting.

Being able to look at himself in the mirror made the sinking feeling worse, he could see the face of the monster he was, not the one who wore a mask or hid behind a moniker; the face he glared at was Simon, the face that shared similarities to yours: the blond hair and the brown eyes. He had red-rimmed eyes, unlike your softer ones, full of life and power. He’d felt the need to break the mirror, shattering it into small pieces and watching his face crumble into fragments and blood, but it would make you worry so much. The blood in the bathroom tiles, wall and sink, his bloodied and roughly wrapped hand and the missing and broken glass would give him away; albeit a shattered mirror was enough for you to rush to him in a flurry of worried words and hushed comfort.

He felt so fucking disgusting, you cared so much about him, so much care and dedication you devoted to him and him alone since you’ve been young. The words you’d whisper in his ears at night when his regrets crawled out, burdening his mind with bloody and visceral images that terrorised him. You were his solid link, the anchor that held him firmly alive and sane, able enough to keep going.

You were his lifeline as he was yours, you clutched onto him for love and comfort while he latched on you for the same, but he had needs, dark ideas and images he made with you. His sacrilegious dreams and thoughts violated his image of you, the sweet girl he protected from your abusive father that would beat you and him.

Stop, this is disgusting, he kept reminding himself, screaming the words to himself in the bathroom, the shower head pouring scalding water upon his request as punishment. Stop it. Stop it, Simon, he screamed, but it never helped, the burning water, the frozen winter, or the pain from wounds, they all numbed until he seaked you out. Then, he couldn’t stop himself, his hands and mouth were so hungry.

You were always with him, and he was always with you; you were stuck by the hip. He came to you by habit, by instinct, by heart. You were his comfort and the only thing that mattered. That's why he was doing this, his need for a physical relationship, the carnal hunger he had, the darkness he wanted to share, all for you. The more selfish side of himself told him that he deserved it and that he was doing this for you. For you, anything.

“Si, are you sure?” you mumbled, breathing in the sweat and cologne on his throat, the thick muscle of his neck bulging when he gulped down harshly. “Si, I’m- I-“

“You trust me, don’t you, love?” he asked, wording his words in a way that would make you less hesitant, and question his intentions less whenever he called you love. It was the nickname everyone at home called you, the youngest of the family, the baby. “Do you?”

“‘Course I do, Si. Of course, I do,” you had a quirk of repeating your words when you got stressed, became so nervous that you’d stutter. It only happend with him or the team, feeling comfortable enough to let them in, to let down the wall you built around you and him enough so that they could see the real you. Task Force 141 truly became a new family, to him and to you.

He shushed your nerves, hands trailing down your backed back to your hips, thumb rubbing circles on your warm skin. You straddled him, he told you that it would make him feel better, it would help him relax and take the edge off. One hand went back to cradle the back of your neck and pushed your closer to him, his head laying on top of yours. His other went further down your back, cupping the fat of your ass, kneading with the softness. His blunt nails dug into your ass, index finding the tight rim of your anal hole.

You whined and clutched the back of his shirt tightly when he went lower, fore and middle finger bumping into your shaved lips, sliding to your slit and rubbing your clit. You opened your mouth to ask him once more, still hesitant to Simon’s idea, but a moan left instead. His hand rounded your thigh to deftly circle your button between his clothed torso and your sheer nakedness. You wanted to hide, feeling his rough, calloused pads writing eights on your sensitive nerve.

You fidgeted, writhing quietly over him, hip bucking forward and mewling when his forefinger would dip slightly into your cunt, tip sliding in before he pulled back to tease you. Although his intentions were to tease you, pleasure you, you felt the nagging discomfort of sharing this with Simon, he was your brother, the eldest of your family and the only one who you could seek comfort with. It never felt the same when you went to the other men, Simon never liked it either.

This wasn’t what siblings usually did, or should at all, but how could you deny him, tell your only family no. The burden of pulling back from him in his time of need would hurt more than the discomfort you felt at the moment, the buzzing in your mind and the tingling pleasure he was giving you. This was anything but normal, but for him, for Simon, you’d see it through.

“Si-!” you jerked back when he slipped a finger in, voice breaking when you cried out, huffing loudly onto the skin of his neck, where he kept you. “Wait-“ your nails sunk into the meat of his back, tapping him, telling him to slow down or wait a bit.

“I got ya, love,” Simon whispered calmly, adding another finger to pump in and out of your soaked cunt, your body reacted naturally to stimulus even if you’d cried no or stop, please, the body and mind were separate things. “I know, (Name), let me help ya.”

Help wasn’t what you’d qualify this as; although your body reacted to him, any body would do the same if they were on the receiving end. You wanted out, you wanted him to stop, but you also knew no one would love you the way Simon did, or the way Ghost did. He was your haven, your safe space that no one else could become, you already had him, why would you need anyone else.

“That’s right. Ya got me, so ya don’t need anyone else, right?”

You couldn’t reply, lost in the drowning sensation of being so full and stimulated by Simon, his big fingers dragging over the spot that made your mind numb and curling just right to make you see stars. Your body shook, crying out his name as pleasure washed over you, walls clamping on his digits, your hips bucked as you rode his hand.

This is wrong, this is so wrong, Si, you wished you could tell him, but the orgasm made all thought disappear. When was the last time you fucked someone, or dated? You couldn’t remember having anyone significant other than family in your life. Sure, you’ve laid with some soldiers and boys when you were younger, more spry than your current age, but those were long ago and none were as big as Simon was. Men were rarely his size and height, he was a rivalling force in the military and in life.

He was loving and tender, slowly pushing you over the edge a second and third time before he felt the need to stop, too ashamed of himself to relieve the unbarring and painful sensation of his hard cock straining against the tightness of his brief and pants. You were his priority, your pleasure being the sole purpose of this moment: locked in your shared room, walls reinforced to be sound-proof from the inside and being at the mercy of his skilled fingers.

He gazed at you, eyes squinting at the fiery blush on your cheeks, warm and sweaty, your eyes dazed and teary from him, tired even, and your breath and heart rapid, loud and gasping. Your eyes met his and you smiled at him tentatively, unsure of how he felt now. Did he feel better? What happened that made him so riled up, mad?

“I won’t let anyone touch ya, (Name),” he swore, caressing your cheeks sweetly with his clean hand. He loved you too much to lose you to someone else, he couldn’t let another man or woman take you from him like they did with his family. “I love you, (Name),” he said those words like they were a mantra, sacred words meant for you alone.

“I love you too, Si.”

Only for you, Si. It’s wrong but for you, anything.

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #ghost x reader smut #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 smut #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon x reader #yandere ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere x reader #tw dubcon #tw: incest

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Pouty

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty AF + Mild Smut

Warnings Gambling / alcohol

I sat on the well-stuffed armchair that I had moved over, replacing the cheap wooden chair of the card table with my usual parlour armchair, my bare feet on the soft rug, the fire crackling and popping to my side as it worked away at the wood and coal I threw on a few moments ago. My cards on the well-polished wood of the card table, the edges slightly buffed and worn down from people's arms, my cards face down showing only the patterned back, coins in the centre of the table stacked up nicely, his cards on the other side. He sat in his armchair, well it wasn't his but it may well have been, leant back with his usual fluffy hair, his white loose sleeve shirt, his blue waistcoat, his green tie undone allowed to hang low and his brown trousers, his chocolate eyes leaving me with no place to hide, his smirk upturned on his lips.

I sat similarly in my chair with my arms over my chest doing my best to look at anything but him, flicking my eyes around the room that was meant to be our parlour but my father merely used it as a card room, with tables, chairs, a bar to the side and as many games as could be imagined. We were... A little, not tipsy, nowhere near Pidgeon step, but... Giggly, and giddy. Which didn't help matters.

He never moved his gaze though giving me very little choice in my proceedings.

"I don't know why I play with you." I snapped pushing my cards into the centre folding,

His smirk only grew as he moved the centre pile to his little pile proud of himself for his winnings, taking my cards and having a look before rolling his eyes "You had me going for a while at the start there," He smirked adding them along with his own back to the deck and beginning to shuffle them, "Again?"

"Alright," I sighed, as much as I didn't want to keep losing I didn't want him to go just yet, "I just need to be a bit careful..."

"Careful?"

"Umm... Last week someone took home my whole allowance!"

"Shouldn't bet it, if you not prepared to lose it."

"And you live by that philosophy do you?"

"I do indeed."

"No, you do not! I've known you to be in the whole for more than you make in a year?" I laughed "As I recall he was going to chop your hand off."

He smirked and very fragrantly moved his hands as he spoke making sure to draw attention to them "And do I have both still?"

"Yes, because you're a crafty little..."

"Ohh go on?" He chuckled leaning on his hand "I shall like to hear this,"

"You're a crafty little... fool."

"You're adorable" he smiled blowing me a kiss across the table as he dealt the cards I glanced at mine and had nothing but I wanted to keep him going a while, I did my best not to react watching him as he checked his own but god damn it he's good! not letting a single reaction make it's way though. He moved a coin to the centre so I did so too, back and forth this went on as the pile grew both of us constantly trying to read one another, I knew I didn't have much money left and I was no closer to knowing what he had so I folded before I lost everything and he smirked taking his winnings with a wide smile,

"Jack Dawkins, must you be such a .... Person." I sighed in frustration,

"A person?" He smirked shuffling the cards again,

"A... Person." I snapped,

"Aww, go on. you can do it. What am I?"

I know what I wanted to say but the words stuck behind my teeth

"Go on, I won't tell," He smirked winking at me as he delt the cards again

"Dick." I sighed glancing at my cards and for once I had something good! really good! but I kept my face still,

He laughed at me, "You are adorable. Come on you can do better than that" Not even checking his cards,

I huffed.

"Come on, I won't tell, I think it's cute when you swear. such a cute Wittle Wady saying the words her daddy won't Wet her." he playfully joked as he moved a coin to the centre "I'll even get you started. Cunt."

"Jack!"

"What?"

"You- You can't just-" I began,

"Cunt. See nothing happens. Cunt. god doesn't come and strike you down for swearing Y/n. He did... I would be in the pits of hell five times over by now."

"Dick." I sighed adding a coin

"Yes, we've heard that one come on you can do better."

"I- I can't,"

"Your father's not here It's safe. I promise I won't say a word" he smiled adding a few more coins

"Little fucker."

"Ahhh! there we go, Pouty little princess."

"I'm not pouting"

"Yes you are, you're mad at me. Awww pouty wittle princess mad I took her allowance?"

"I. am. not. Pouty."

"You're a ... " I began but I couldn't say it, he just glanced up at me expectantly "Bastard."

"Ooohhh sharp tonight Y/n" He smirked "Come on," he smirked as we had reached the point where I had no more money to bet from my weekly allowance but these cards were so good there was no way I could lose! So I slipped off my bracelet adding it to the pile "Very nice," He smirked adding more coins "Go on, how you gonna get out of this one?"

"Arsehole," I sighed pulling off my ring and adding it to the pile,

"Confident little pouty princess tonight," he smirked simply adding more money,

"Shit." I sighed as I had nothing else to bet with, "You open to an IOU?"

"Depends what it is," He shrugs slyly,

"Half next week's allowance when I get it."

he smirked, "Why? I'll end up winning it when I come over anyway,"

"Please?"

"Alright" He smirked grabbing some paper from the bar and writing out and IOU "Go on," he smirked sliding it over so I signed it and added it to the pile, he smirked and simply added more coins "Ooohh now what are you going to do?"

"... Another IOU?"

"For?"

"More of my allowance next week?"

"No."

"What?"

"If I take all of next week's allowance you have nothing to play with then. I'm just robbing myself of the future enjoyment of taking it."

"Ughhh... what do you want then?"

"Anything I want?"

"Yes,"

"Anything?"

"Within reason."

"So all anything is on the table as it were?" he smirked leaning his elbows on the table, connecting his hands and resting his chin there,

"within reason, you slimy little fish boy."

"Fish boy? Are you actually out of swears you know?"

"Shithead."

He smirked still with the paper from the bar in handwriting on it in a way I couldn't see and slid it over licking his lip as he did, I took it a little confused and read it

'IOU, One on the Lips Kiss. Signed _________'

"You're kidding?"

"I am not."

"Why?"

He shrugged "The sick twisted joy of forcing the pouty little princess to pucker up?"

"You're a dickhole."

"Oohh getting more inventive now. Take it or leave it."

"How much do you value that?"

"Let's say to the value of four pounds?"

"Four pounds!"

"That's what the girls down the cat and bagpipes charge."

"Well, I ain't a girl down the cat and bagpipes jack, Twelve."

"Six."

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Fine." I sighed signing it and adding it to the pile, He nodded and simply added more money

"Well, now what am I meant to do?" I glared

He smirked glancing at the paper he still had on the table and I rolled my eyes, "Fine."

"Don't bet what you can't lose. You can fold at any time little lady." he chuckled writing on the paper and sliding it over to me waiting with an evil smirk, I flipped it and looked immediately turning red at the idea

'IOU, One lap sit lasting at least one minute. Signed _________'

"You want me to do what now!"

"Sit on my lap," he smirked leaning back in his chair slightly and opening his legs almost invitingly

"One minute?"

"At least."

"Fine." I snapped signing and adding it to the now formidable pile

"You must be very confident,"

"So must you" I smirked "...If I win? will you give me a kiss?"

"The IOU had no name so... Yes I suppose if you won they go to you."

"So you'd have to kiss me, Jack?" I giggled leaning on the table a little "And come sit on my lap?"

"I would, little concerned if I'll fit but yes if you win then I'll do it." He smirked "So... do you fold or are we going to keep adding here?"

"Adding. Go on. You can choose."

"Ohh how kind of you princess" he smirked clearly getting a wicked idea writing on the paper and sliding it over so I took it

'IOU, One Touch of an intimate area of the winner's choice. Signed _________'

"An Intimate area?"

"Yes,"

"Which would be wear?"

"Your tits. or your arse. Or your pussy if I was feeling like it." He smirked

"And If I win?"

"My arse, or my cock."

"That still sounds like it would benefit you more than me."

"Then I can't lose can I?"

"How much?"

"fifteen pounds."

"Fine" I smirked signing it and adding it to the pile

"Interesting you value a kiss at nine pounds but me fondling your tit is fifteen... I could in theory fondle your arse for less than the price of two kisses"

"Your turn" I smirked ignoring his comment and noticing he now had very little left to bet with so he slid the last of his money in "Not enough."

"Ohh come on-"

"Nope. you want to keep the stakes this high then meet them."

He rolled his eyes and slid over the pad and pen "Go on then."

I took the pen thinking for a moment this was all getting a bit intense but if I won! I got everything! and he was betting with my last three weeks' worth of allowance I had lost to him, as well as his recent winnings from evenings at the Cat and Bagpipes and wherever else he scampers off too to play cards that aren't just here with me when my father's out. And I had to admit... the idea of winning and turning his perverted little request of me sitting on his lap and him touching my intimate places into something humiliating for him to have to sit on my lap while I slap his arse was too good to resist. But what to make him do, trying to think of what would humiliate him the most...

'IOU, One spanking session. Signed _________'

And I slid it over with a smile

"Uhh? So I'd get to spank you? That definitely sounds like it's more for my benefit."

"Does it?"

"yeah. That's hot as fuck!"

"No, winner takes."

"So, when I win I get to give you a spanking my pouty little princess?"

"If you win. yes. and when I win, I get to bend you over and give you a spanking"

"You'd really spank me?"

"I would."

"You can't even say cunt in your own house when your father isn't here you're going to bend me over and spank me are you?"

"I am."

"Alright" he smirked signing it and adding it to the pile quickly taking the pad back writing quickly and sliding it over

'IOU, One tickle session. Signed _________'

"A what?"

"I get to lie you down, tie you up. and tickle you to my heart's content."

"With my clothes on?"

"...some of them"

"To what end?"

"My amusement."

"and when I win? I get to tie you up and tickle you?"

"If you win, yes."

"Alright" I smirked signing it and taking back the pad trying to think of something, and an evil thought came into my mind

'IOU, One orgasm. Signed _________'

and I folded the paper stroking down the fold line before kissing the fold and sliding it over to him, He watched me rather excitedly taking it kissing the fold line himself before opening it

"Oh." He stopped short "Really?"

"Really."

"My pouty little princess wants me to make her cum?"

"When I win."

"And if I win?"

"You get one I guess, if that happens."

"You'll make me cum?"

"I will."

"How?"

"hands."

"Ohh no no."

"You're the one short on money. I get to decide."

"Fine. Hands" He smirked quickly signing away and adding it to the pile "Ohh look at that now you need to bet, so you fold or you bet?"

"Bet."

"Good girl," he smirked taking the paper and pen back and I didn't even need to check it really I knew what he was going to write and as soon as it slid back to me

'IOU, One orgasm By mouth. Signed _________'

"So... when I win you owe me two?"

"One by hand, one by mouth to cash when requested."

I smirked and signed adding it to the pile

"Your turn, I'm not folding princess."

"Alright," I smirked taking the paper and pen, trying to think of something and then it hit me! god damn it why didn't I think of this earlier

'IOU, full nude pose. Signed _________'

and I slid it back

"Pose?"

"Yep."

"why a pose specicily?"

"I can draw you."

"Draw me? why a cute little picture to keep under your pillow?"

"To display in town and humiliate you."

"And when I win?"

"You can see me naked, I'm sure that'd amuse you."

"I'm a doctor. I see naked ladies a lot. Like... so much it's kinda boring now"

"Boring?"

"It's just boobs. and a pussy. Yes, both of those can be spectacular but.. they are just boobs." He shrugs "Can I draw you?"

"Can you draw?"

"... I would try. and then I can put you up in my room above my bed" he winked

"Fine."

"Deal" he smirked happily signing "My turn!" He smirked grabbing the pad back and quickly writing his own sliding the paper over

'IOU, One Full Penotrational Sex Session. Signed _________'

immediately I turned red and he just smirked,

"No!"

"What?"

"No! No way!"

"Why not?"

"We are not betting with my Innocence Jack."

"Everything is on the table, you said so."

"No!"

"You agree to the IOU, Or you you fold." He smirked,

"Fine." I sighed signing and smirking "I'll see you."

He smirked and revealed his cards,

"...... you cunt." I sighed revealing my cards and he had beaten me!

He chuckled and pulled his pile of winnings to himself gathering all the IOU's and flicking them and then using them as a fan for himself "Well... isn't this just a lovely turn of events" He smirked taking one out and sliding it over to me "I'd like to cash this one, Now."

I looked and it was the

'IOU, One lap sit lasting at least one minute. Signed _________'

I sighed ripping it and throwing it on the fire before I got up and moved to sit on his leg, immediately he wrapped his arms around me pulling me to his chest

"Aww pouty little princess."

"I hate you."

"I know."

"You are an evil... conniving little man."

"I know" he shrugs "Now... what are we to do with the rest of our evening?" he smirked "Ohh. I have some ideas" he smirked waving his IOU's around suggestively "I have some rewards to cash" He smirked shoving the papers into the cleavage of my dress, grabbing my thighs as he stood forcing me to wrap them around him, so I quickly wrapped my arms around him so I wouldn't fall

"JACK!" I squealed

"Off we go then, princess. Don't worry you won't be pouty much longer" he smirked carrying me up to my bedroom...

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger #thearttfuldodger

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mediocreanomaly · 4 months

Text

Amen. Priest!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)

**GN!Reader** Authors Note: I have an issue. Yes Priest!Wolfwood sparks joy, so please enjoy 4,539 of depravity as my welcome back, small note at the end!

**Content Warning: I grew up religious so I'm using real scripture here, if you're religious or that makes you uncomfy this might be a skip for you, if you're depraved like me read on**

Being raised Catholic was a one-way street to spoon fulls of guilt being shoved down your throat. Most everyone in the church was more or less aware of that fact, whether they acknowledged it or not.

However, there’s a warning they don't bother to put on the good book. A warning about the more...complicated relationship you develop with religion once the guilt that's swelled up in your chest has nowhere else to go.

"Then God said, 'Take your son to the land of Moriah and kill your son there as a sacrifice for me. This must be Isaac, your only son, the one you love. Use him as a burnt offering on one of the mountains there. I will tell you which mountain.” Church sometimes God ask things from us, things that seem...unimaginable, unbearable, but we are not lead blindly. No, quite the opposite, God-' " Father Wolfwood emphases by pointing to the rafters of the church as if the big man himself was sitting there, watching. "He has a plan, a plan so great and magnificent that we cannot begin to comprehend. With that understanding Abraham takes his son, because he trust, church, he trust God enough to follow-"

The sermon is drowned out. To anyone around you you'd look devout. Pious even with how well you focus on Father Wolfwood, but it's not the bible that makes you show up every Sunday. It's the dark black tousled hair that trails into stubble lining his cheek. It's those big brown eyes wide and confident as he preaches to the congregation. It's those hands, large and calloused, that make you wonder what life he must have lived before this as he moves them around with his speech. It's his skin, perfectly tan and forehead beading with sweat from the insufferable heat of the church, no doubt that cassock isn't helping. It's his voice, deep and raspy with that perfect cadence that makes you wonder what it'd be like if he said your name while bending you over-

"Y/n?" The altar boy who you didn't even realize had come to your pew ask. He's holding out communion in a way that tells you he's been there for a second.

"Oh! uh-" you reach out for the wine when a hand around your wrist stops you, you blink a few times and look up to see the man you were just ogling at meeting your gaze with dark eyes.

"Why don't you pass that out to the other pews, y/n is joining me for a special communion after church, they had something they wanted to pray on with me" Father Wolfwood says easily.

"I do?" the words fall from your mouth dumbly which causes Wolfwood to raise an eyebrow at you as if you're stupid. You let yourself swallow and bow your head as if scolded, you wonder what part of being a priest blessed him with so much sass.

"ah- right! yes I had forgotten, thank you Father Wolfwood" you correct. You had not, in fact, discussed anything of the sorts with the Father, but there was clearly something you were missing here.

He gives you a curt nod before softening his eyes and turning back to the young boy.

"Go on" he insist. He does, continuing to the next pew with all the confirmation he needed and Wolfwood finally let’s go of your wrist. The warmth of his hand that lingers isn't lost on you as you wearily glance up at him.

"Special communion?" You try hoping to gather a bit more information on the situation you'll be faced with after Mass.

"mhmm, God has called me to you. Something weighs on your mind, perhaps a repentance is in order?" his face gives away nothing, although you swear his eyes darken as he watches you with a pleasant smile that stays locked on his face.

Alarm bells ring in your head. Did...did he know? You had done your best to hide your less than innocent gaze as worship. Thinking back on it perhaps you were less conspicuous about it than you thought, that or God was the worst wing man ever.

"Father Wolfwood I-"

He holds up his hand to pause the word vomit that was about to stutter out and shakes his head.

"Later. Best to confess without prying eyes, no?"

He lets you simmer on that as he makes his way back to the front of the church. When he leads the church in prayer you do take it upon yourself to pray for once. You pray you'll sink into the floor or be struck dead before the end of the sermon.

By the time the church doors are opened, and people file out you're sure your heart will burst anyways. You stay seated in the front pew, not moving an inch because if you stand it'll be to bolt out the door and... well technically nothing was keeping you from it. It's not like the god damn (sorry God) preacher would shoot you if you attempted to run. He had simply suggested you confess. Easy. He probably hears peoples fucked up sexual fantasies all the time sitting in that booth. You knew the sheriff’s wife was sleeping with the banker and you knew the sheriff was sleeping with the widow down the street so it's not like the stuff that’s pulled from the great Catholics of No Mans Land weren't anything he hadn't heard before.

That's the thought you try and let comfort you as Father Wolfwood finishes up thanking people for coming to church and shaking hands.

The church doors shut with a thud that makes you jump in your seat; you press your hands together firmly and feel your fingernails dig into the skin there. This was fine.

"You know" Father Wolfwood folds his hands politely behind his back and takes agonizingly slow steps down the aisle "People with guilty conscious are more likely to be startled by loud noises."

You keep your head bowed slightly in what must look like a mock prayer, but you aren’t praying any more, you're just doing everything possible to not throw up on the churches nice red carpet, carpet that is interrupted when two black dress shows come into view.

"y/n?"

That voice. It makes you press you lips in a firm line scared of what filth might come out of it if you speak. Instead, to show you're listening, you slowly raise your head to meet Wolfwoods eyes, the likes of which seem clouded in some strong emotion. Were priest always this intense? Well, the easy answer was yes but this was a different type of intensity, not kind that filled revering words but one that more closely resembled a predator zoning in on its prey.

"Y/n" he says it again, albeit softer this time as if coaxing forward a scared animal. "You have something on your mind, don't you? Something that plagues you?"

You feel your fingers instinctively move to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. If the heat from the church before was unbearable before then this is downright swelting.

"Don't you usually do this kind of thing in the booth?" a poor attempt of a smile graces your lips in a desperate attempt to lighten whatever mood was staring to suffocate the air.

"Usually yes. This is a special case I believe though..." he leans down and your heart slams against your chest, his breath fans against your cheek. You can smell lingering cologne and... was that smoke? Surely not, if your local priest smoked it'd be the talk of the town, although now that you think about it those plush lips would look perfect balancing a cigarette between them, and they'd look even better if he used those teeth to-

"I almost forgot! You haven't received communion" He straightens out in an instant and claps his hands together nearly scaring you out of your skin while your face heats up from pure embarrassment.

You watch as he crosses from the pew to the table behind the pulpit and grabs a small cup of wine and bread. Just as quickly he's back in front of you with the objects. You reach out to accept them when he pulls his hands back.

"ah ah ah, I said this was a special communion didn't I? I'll deliver it unto you, you just sit and do as your told."

Oh. Yeah, that definitely didn't do anything to you. Nothing like a gruff handsome man in priest wear telling you to obey in the house of God. This was for sure not bubbling up any worrying realizations about yourself. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He steps back putting a little bit of room between the two of you before his eyes flicker from you to the carpet in front of him.

"Kneel."

You go instantly and willingly, a bit too willingly. Your mind flashes with Father Wolfwoods sermons about the disciples who kissed Jesus’ feet. You wonder if this was an elaborate way to get you to read the bible more because you're beginning to understand what was going through their minds now as you sit on your knees in front of the priest.

You aren’t sure if Wolfwood expected you to be so eager. He pauses for a moment before you swear a hint of a smirk plays at his lips. He raises the glass and the bit of bread slightly.

"Listen to me closely, we wouldn't want to spill and stain the carpet now, would we?" he ask.

You shake your head no. He makes a satisfied hum and continues.

"Tilt your head back.”

You do as your told, tilting your head back until your eye level is forced to be centered on the man in front of you.

"Open your mouth.”

Your mouth begins to salivate despite the fact there’s nothing in it yet. Perhaps it's due to the fact that what he's about to put in it isn't want you’d like to have resting on your tongue.

"Good. Why don't you stick your tongue out a little bit? I don't want you to dribble."

Fuck him. Fuck him so bad. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing but if had any hint about this sadistic game he was playing with you he gave no indication, he remained at stoic as ever as if you weren't having the most unholy thoughts imagine about your fucking priest.

There’s no going back though. You follow his instructions and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. You swear something flickers in his eyes, but it's gone as soon as it arrives.

He raises the glass and bread more as if offering it to God.

"Close your eyes.”

You do. You let the light of stained-glass windows be blotted out by your own blind obedience.

“Corpus Domini Nostri Iesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternam....Amen."

You feel him press the small bit of bread onto your tongue, you close and eat. You don't need to be told before your opening your mouth again.

The wine follows right after, poured into your mouth and you swallow it down focusing on not letting any hit the ground with the speed at which the contents are emptied down your throat.

What realistically could not have been more than a few seconds feels as though it's lasted a lifetime. You take a deep breath once the bitter wine has settled in your stomach and before you can even think about getting up and excusing yourself from the church Wolfwood puts a hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to stay in place.

"Good. Why don't we get that confession out of the way then?"

Right. The reason he had probably pulled you aside for all of this in the first place. Had he seen through you? Seen how hungry your gaze had become? Probably. Looking back on it sitting in the front row was probably not the best idea when the entire reason for your Sunday visits was for potential fantasy fuel. There didn't seem like any reason to lie though, it's not like a priest could tell anyone about these things and outside of church Father Wolfwood was a bit of an anomaly to the town.

He didn't have any friends that you knew of, didn't gossip, or hang out at the bar, the man lived in this church which was making you feel a bit more guilty about your infatuation now that you thought of it but hey, if you weren't guilty about something then were you even a catholic?

"Forgive me Father I have sinned..."

With a grimace you realize why the damn confessions booths were so popular. Admitting this to God or a wooden wall was a little too easy. Admitting this to Wolfwood was like someone slowly peeling off your skin.

"I see, well, tell me child what is your confession?"

a swallow, then a leap.

"I have been...ah having inappropriate thoughts about someone. Someone who I go out of my way to see to add to these...fantasy's I have."

He listens closely and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head.

"I see...lust then?"

You nod in response, and he makes an affirming noise.

"And what do you imagine happening in these...fantasies of yours?"

The silence in the empty church is so loud it's deafening. Your hands scrunch and unscrunch the fabric of your pants.

"I...I imagine him pushing be down against these very pews Father. That one day as I'm standing up to leave mass, he'll shove me right back down and take me against the wood."

It's said strained but even you must admit maybe there’s something to this confession shit because you feel a bit lighter with it off your shoulders. Father Wolfwood looks less light. In fact, he looks you've just damned him to hell.

"Is that all?" he asks but it comes out breathier than he means it to.

The tone sends something to your core, oh you see it now. Lamb and shepherd your ass, you were still most certainly the lamb but the Father was no shepherd, he was the Wolf. Maybe God himself had put that divine foreshadowing into his name.

You shift on your knees and press yourself flatter trying to rub your thighs together. Wolfwoods eyes flicker down to the action then back up to your face, he opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

"No Father. Sometimes I imagine him taking me on the stand in front of the whole congregation. Still preaching while he finishes in me, holy words even in his most sinful act. But...do you know what I really want Father?"

Wolfwood swallows, his fingers trace along your face, and you fight every instinct to lean into it. He looks like this is paining him, He's all gritted teeth and square shoulders as he speaks.

"What do you want?"

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"I imagine he'd keep me here after church, that he'd have me kneel before him still while wearing his holy clothes, that collar, the rosary...and I wish he'd undo his belt to-"

"Enough."

Your mouth snaps shut scared you've pushed to far. You can feel heat bloom across your face in embarrassment now that your words are catching up to you, this was meant to be a confession not a shit porno, maybe you DID need God...

"You drive me insane you know that? Every day you come in here- the house of god mind you and stare at me like..." He clicks his tongue and motions to you.

"Well like that."

You aren't sure what to make of his tone, it's scolding and firm but hinges on needy at the end. You're starting to worry you broke the poor man before he makes an irritated noise.

"Fine. You want to repent so bad?" Wolfwoods hands go to his belt and with a soft clink of the metal it comes fastened. Your eyes flicker to look towards the door to make sure that no one was about to walk in on the scene that'd put Judas’ sin to shame when you're snapped out of your thoughts.

"Pay attention sweetheart, you were doing so good before, what happened?" The mask of a holy man cracks and gives way to something cockier, more taunting, more...Wolfwood.

"Unless you need scripture to keep your focus?" he works to undo the button and the zip of his dress pants as he tilts his head.

"Then here's something for you, 'the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” When Eve saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom..' "

He frees himself from the confines of his pants. You feel your mouth water and although your knees are starting to hurt from kneeling for so long you have a feeling you're about to get your real communion.

" '...and she opened her mouth, and took.' "

In beat with his preaching you let your mouth fall open. In all honesty, you get it now. You get how appealing that lush fruit must have been to Eve, you get why even after being promised paradise, she gave in to temptation. The weight that settles on your tongue as Wolfwood presses into your mouth makes your eyes roll back and an involuntary moan escape your throat. Wolfwoods breath stutters.

"God..." He groans and if your mouth wasn't currently full you might have made a witty comment about using the lords name in vain but a quick hand lacing through your hair from Wolfwood serves well enough to sever whatever thought had flitted through your mind.

You flatten your tongue and take more, allowing as much as you can to the back of your throat but when tears prick your eyes and you gag slightly on the sensation he pulls you off with a wet pop. You whine slightly at loss before Wolfwoods hand grabs your chin while he uses his thumb to wipe up the drool leaking from your lips that you hadn't realized was there.

"Patience, don’t you listen to a word I say up there?” he muses, you sheepishly look up at him through your eyelashes and it’s answer enough. He pulls you back in front of his cock, "Be good then, swallow every drop and I might forgive you"

You don't have much time to argue has his hand guides you back. You're more prepared this time, the way you sit on your knees...you’re a picture perfect saint and who's here to judge you for your sin anyways? Wolfwood? Sounded like a set up to a joke.

"Fuck, yeah baby just like that. So good-" His words break off with a grunt and his hips stutter forward, he pulls your head forward and your reach up to steady yourself with his thighs. He rocks his hips to your mouth as he face fucks you in the middle of the church. When his breathing speeds up and he mutters out a sting of gentle curses you know he’s close. You close your eyes and let him use you as he spills down your throat. You're desperate to show him you can listen, you swallow down as much as you can trying to not let a single drop of cum hit the floor.

When the rough handful of hair is released, you pull back to try and catch your breath, a worthless endeavor it would seem considering you're just as quickly being lifted up by your arm. You feel yourself being tugged up the steps towards the pulpit and make peace with the fact you're officially the worst Catholic ever...well besides the priest who's currently the instigator of this depravity.

"Not done yet sweetheart, the grace of god doesn't come with a blow job surprisingly" Wolfwood huffs amused as he presses down on your shoulder to force you to bend of the wood stand.

"Are you even a priest?" wrong question you guess because Wolfwood makes an irritated noise.

"Aren't you supposed to be repenting?" His hands grope at your thighs spreading them apart much more slowly than you'd like, as if he's savoring it...reverence you think.

"Father-"

He chuckles lowly at that.

"Father" he imitates "you let that name fall from your lips like it doesn't turn you on just to say it"

His fingers ghost over your thighs, then around the area you want him most before sliding up under your shirt to explore flesh. It's so hot in the church and when you peer out across the wooden pews you see the stain glass window casting rainbow light that sprawls out across the floor all the way up to your body.

"Focus on me" Wolfwood corrects your wandering mind by nipping along your neck and your body instinctively shudders against him. You press your hips back to feel his growing hardness pressed against your ass. His hands slide your shirt up over your head and he begins to focus on trailing kisses along your back.

"Thank you, lord," His lips move against your shoulder blade.

"For delivering this sinner unto me, so that I may show them rapture."

His fingers hook along the hem of your pants and tug them down your legs until they rest right at your knees.

"Despite that, I must confess, I have sinned."

His fingers trace along your entrance before slowly sinking in. You groan and press your head to the wood in front of you, fingers scratching against the surface.

"I have lusted for someone of my own congregation. I have imagined them kneeling for me and I worst of all I have imagined me taking them, devouring them until there is nothing left to fill them but me"

Another finger lazily joins the first and he begins a slow rhythm of pumping them in and out. You attempt to wiggle your hips back to chase the feeling, but his other hand keeps your waist flush against the stand.

"But I am only a man so with my mortal body I will show them euphoria"

You feel his fingers pull out and whine at the loss only to feel the blunt head of his own cock begin to line up with you.

"Amen"

Wolfwood doesn't give you much more warning before roughly pressing in. You moan as he sets a backbreaking pace, thankful that he at least prepped you before. He's leaned over your body; his hair tickles the back of your neck slightly as he pants in your ear. You imagine your own noises can't be much better as his left hand, the one he's apparently wrapped in a rosary, comes up to catch your chin, two fingers press into your mouth as he supports your head. His other hand stays at your hip, bringing your body back against his with every thrust.

It's so hot in the church, sweat beads along your body and you can feel your hair beginning to stick to your forehead. Your mind feels foggy and you lap absent mindedly at the fingers invading your mouth. Wolfwood groans and pushes you down further against the stand and it'd be uncomfortable if you could focus on anything other than the priest fucking your brains out. He produces an ungodly amount of precum, you can feel it making a mess between your thighs right as drool begins to leak from the corners of your mouth and bead down to the wood below.

Wolfwoods hand shifts from your hip to where a blooming warmth has begun. You nearly cry out with relief babbling nonsense around his fingers, hell maybe even a few prayers. His own mouth is becoming less of that of a reverend and more of that of a ravenous man, mouthing and biting at what he can reach. The fingers press deeper into your mouth and your feel the smooth beads of the rosary are you toy with them with your tongue. You're close, you tremble beneath Wolfwood and he catches on because both his hands pull away to once again fit along your hips. You nearly sob from the new lack of stimulation as he rocks into you.

"Beg for it" Wolfwood says so firm you'd have sworn he was once again leading congregation. Your mind is half way to mush right now so it doesn't take much convincing to do what he wants.

"Please please please let me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I repent" you babble out hoping you’ve said the magic words.

His hand comes down firmly on your ass as he thrust into you then finally finally reaches to touch between your thighs.

It sends you over the edge instantly, your legs trembling as you whine and moan, Wolfwoods own obscene noises match your own as he finishes inside you, letting you milk him for all he's worth.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, you become aware of the fact your priest is pressed up against your back, trying to catch his breath from fucking the ever loving daylights out of you. You whine slightly and Wolfwood responds by nuzzling his face against your neck.

"Are you okay?"

You do actually laugh at that one, letting your forehead rest against the podium.

"The priest I've been fantasizing about fucking me for a year now just has. This has been the best lay of my life and you want to ask if I'm okay?"

"You're awfully vulgar aren't you?"

You snap your head up to make several points about irony of the statement but when you turn you see a shit eating grin on his face. Your playfully hit his chest and groan.

"You've got to be the worst priest ever"

"Can't say I'd deny that claim" He leans forward and kisses you, you go into it easily but the taste of his lips remind you of something, when you pull away you raise an eyebrow

"Do you smoke?"

He shrugs and keeps his hands on your waist.

"I prefer to keep certain things in my life separated from the church"

"and me?"

"Consider yourself a special case." He smirks and takes hold of your chin between his fingers "Although I do hope this was enough to keep you coming to my sermons?" he ask

You swallow at the dark look in his eye and place your hands on his chest.

"and miss the holy word? Perish the thought"

He chuckles lowly at that as your hands begin to play with the collar of the cassock he wears.

"Although Father, I fear I may not have properly confessed."

He raises an eyebrow and eyes you "No?"

You shake your head "See I only...repented for two out of three fantasy’s I had also mentioned being taken against the pews"

Wolfwoods hands tighten around his hips and his smile widens.

"Well...let's fix that, shall we?"

Author's note: ahhhh I'm back! I've been storin this little beauty away for awhile now. This is my welcome back post because I feel like I lost the way I wanted to organize and write for a little while and this was the first piece that got me back in the flow of things. I missed you guys! We're back baby! (I'll add my spacers in later I'm missin the files rn and I don't feel like searching for them)

#trigun x reader #trigun x you #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #wolfwood x you #priest!wolfwood

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

Text

Who Hurt You

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader (80s au) Summary: this was a request from @roostette with the prompt ‘who hurt you?’ for my 1K celebration. They kindly let me choose the time period so we are rocking 80s Bradley today. Thank you @callsign-phoenix for proofreading Warnings: cheating, heart break, Bradley being the guy every girl needs, implied sex, minors dni

Bradley groaned, leaning against the counter of the video store, running his hand through his brown locks. Sundays were always slow. No one wanted to rent movies on a Sunday. The sun was shining, the warm summer breeze blowing the front door open occasionally, bringing with it the hope of a customer as the bell above the door clanged.

Bradley looked up at the clock, the time reading half past three. Another groan left his mouth when realised he still had two hours to go. He’d always hated picking up shifts, he didn’t know why he did it as no one ever swapped shifts with him, but when she’d come to him and beg to swap their Sundays he just couldn’t refuse. (Y/n) in Bradley’s eyes was the most beautiful girl in town. She was smart, funny and perfect in every way. The only problem was that all the other guys thought that too. Bradley had been nursing his crush on (y/n) for years, and when she’d come to work at the movie store with him, he’d thought this was his chance. It was not, and now while Bradley was stuck at work the girl of his dreams was off on a date with none other than Jake Seresin, the town's golden boy. He was a jock having been captain of the football team and class president during his high school days. He got good grades, not that Bradley didn’t, but he’d spent most of his senior year caring for his sick mother. While Jake had gotten a high up job at his father’s expensive car dealership, Bradley had jumped from job to job, from comic book stores to the supermarket to the video store.

Looking back up at the clock and realising only five minutes had passed caused Bradley to groan again in frustration. He picked up the box of returns that the Saturday workers hadn’t reshelfed and busied himself, walking down between the isles of videos and records before placing each into its respective section. He grinned as he picked up his favourite movie from the box, running his thumb over the cover of the all too familiar cassette of ‘Back to the Future’ when the bell above the door chimed and the noise of loud footsteps followed.

“Hello?” Bradley made his way back up the isle to the counter to come face to face with a teary (y/n).

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here? What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly, he reached out to her but she backed away behind the counter, sinking down next to the cobalt records with a whimper.

“(Y/n)?” He called softly, raising his hands as a sign of surrender as he took a seat on the floor beside her. “Who hurt you?”

(Y/n) mumbled something into the sleeve of her jumper that Bradley couldn’t quite make out.

“Who hurt you, (y/n)?” He asked again, this time laying his hand reassuringly on her arm, she didn’t flinch away this time.

“Jake,” she choked out, rubbing her hand over her cheeks. “He cheated on me.”

Bradley sighed, if he had it his way he’d be straight over to that asshole's house giving him hell for hurting (y/n), but right now she needed him more. Shuffling over he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug. They remained silent for a few moments before (y/n) spoke up.

“Why are you so good, Bradley? After everything you’ve been through and all the shit everyone gives you and yet you’re still so good.”

Bradley shrugged, he didn’t really know if he was good, he just tried to help other people out when he could. He’d never consider himself good though.

“I don’t know.” He replied eventually after contemplating his answer.

(Y/n) shuffled around in his arms, cupping his cheek in her hand, “well I sure am glad that you are, Bradshaw.” She leant in placing the smallest kiss to his cheek and watching as a deep blush grew over his cheeks.

“You get off at five thirty, right?”

“Yeah,” Bradley whispered, not daring to say too much considering their close proximity.

“Well I can’t see many people will be coming in now. Wanna close up and watch ‘Back to the Future’, I know it’s your favourite?”

Bradey was stunned. He never really thought she noticed him let alone took an interest in something he liked. He quickly agreed, afraid that if he waited she’d change her mind.

“Good,” she reached down her hand to pull him up. “Come on then, Bradshaw. Let’s give you a night to remember.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @soulmates8 @desert-fern @roostette @marchingicenotes7 @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @jstarr86 @starkleila @bradshawseresinbabe @wkndwlff @shadowsintheknight @cherrycola27

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #80s au #1k celebration

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sachiko1309 · 5 months

Text

Pon Farr

Summary: After Spock and Lucy established a relationship, Spocks nature calling sends them into taking a few more steps as a couple.

Word count: 4941

Warnings: smut with plot, violence, Minors DNI!!! this contains adult content

Translations:

* sa-fu = son

* ashayam = beloved/darling

* kal'i'farr = wedding

* nafai = okay

* Oekon you ri goal fai -tor, ra you aishan tor = you have no idea what you're doing to me

Other notes: The extended mind meld is ssth that grew in my imagination. Just ignore or run with it. Thx 🥰

Knowing you might want to read it @mystery-star I tagged you 😇

I woke up in the night to someone caressing my body.

Spock.

I smiled at him. His face was brightly lit by the moonlight. But when I recognized his expression, the smile slipped away. His eyes were full of hunger and sexual desire. Pon Farr had begun. Spock leaned over me. "You look so beautiful, t'hy'la ." I tried to push him away, but he was far too strong. He easily took my hands and held them tied above my head. "Spock, stop. Your Pon Farr has begun. We must..." He interrupted me with an urgent kiss. With one hand he still held my hands above my head. The other started pulling my nightgown up.

"Stop! Stop it! That's not you!" My voice got louder and I tried to wriggle out of his grip unsuccessfully. His lips kissed my neck, my face, my cleavage. "Stop. I don't want this. Spock, please." I pleaded. Fear rose inside me. Tears formed in my eyes. But Spock didn't stop. He had now pushed my nightgown up so far, that he could easily slide his fingers over my panties.

"Jim!" I screamed, hoping to wake him. "Jim help me! Please!"

“He won’t be able to help you. He's far too weak." Spock sneered and pushed my panties aside. "No!" I had actually started to cry. There was a big lump in my throat and I felt sick. Images of Hanesh kept flashing through my head. "Jim!"

The bedroom door slammed shut with a crash. Jim threw himself at Spock and actually managed to pry him off of me. I jumped out of bed and stood frozen in the middle of the room.

“Lucy run! Get Ambassador Sarek ." Jim shouted. Spock punched him in the face and then tried to reach for me again. But Jim didn't let go and pulled him back onto the bed. "Go!" he shouted at me again. Blood ran from his nose. Suddenly, I spun around and ran. Out of the room and down the long hallway. My nightgown billowed dangerously high on my hips, but I didn't care. I ran like a madwoman all the way to Spock's father's apartment. When I got there I banged furiously on the door.

“Ambassador Sarek. I need your help! It's about Spock." I pounded and pounded. I'm sure I woke up almost every one of his neighbors, but I didn't care. Suddenly the door opened and I fell forward into a dark brown tunic. Large hands straightening me again.

“Lieutenant Esteban. "What happened?" Sarek asked me and let me go.

"Spock... He..." I stammered, unable to calm myself.

"Remain calm." Sarek took my hands. I immediately felt his calmness. I tried to orientate myself on that. It took a few breaths, but then I managed to say: "Spock forced himself on me. I think his Pon Farr has started. Jim could stop him and now they're fighting."

As if struck by lightning, Sarek let go of my hands and gathered up his tunic. And then he ran. I could not believe it. Ambassador Spock, a full-blooded Vulcan ran! I quickly ran after him and was able to catch up with him at the door. The sight that greeted me was terrifying. The room was completely devastated. Jim layed beneath Spock. Holding his hands protectively in front of his head. Blood ran from his nose and lip. "Spock!" I uttered. His eyes were immediately on me. Jim took advantage of the moment, clamping Spock's legs between his and rolling around. With his hands he pushed his arms to the ground and tried to pin him to the ground with his entire body to keep.

"Sa- fu*!" Ambassador Sarek's voice boomed through the room. And as if he was breaking through an invisible wall, Spock immediately stopped struggling. He blinked a few times and then looked between me and Jim. When Spock saw my tears, he was shocked. "What have I done? Did I hurt you?" I shook my head.

"Let go of me, Jim!" Spock demanded.

"Are you sure?" Jim looked uncertainly at Spock and then at Sarek .

"Yes. I can control myself now."

Jim reluctantly got up from the ground, trying to keep the blood on his face from dripping onto the floor.

Behind me the door swung open again. "What happened here?" Scotty and Bones. Presumably woken up by the noise, they pushed past me. Bones was immediately at Jims side and looked at his face. "I'm fine. Get your hands out of my face," Jim said and slapped his hands away.

“You are not. Your nose is broken." Bones protested.

"Ay, I think the Commander got the Captain pretty good." Scotty's eyes were on Spock's hands. Bones spun around. "You what?" He waved his hands angrily at Spock. Jim stepped in. Probably out of concern that Spock might freak out again in his current state. “Everything’s fine, Bones. He didn't do it on purpose. He has Pon Farr." Jim pronounced it as if it was an illness, causing Scotty to raise an eyebrow: " Pon Farr? Is that contagious?" He immediately took a few steps back and looked at Spock uncertainly.

"No it's not. Our first officer has just become this wild, sex-crazed animal. That's why we're here, isn't it Jim?" Bones started to press Jim's face again. He just whined and didn't answer. "I thought so." Bones murmured, barely making it audible. Scotty stared between the two, obviously confused. "Ay, and what does that mean exactly?" Bones looked at him annoyed. "He over there..." He pointed to Spock. “Must mate with Lucy in the next eight days or he’ll die. Pon Farr is a vulcan mating ritual."

“Doctor, I appreciate it, if you didn’t talk about my culture like that. Pon Farr is very important to us and your condescending attitude is insulting to my people." Spock growled, his jaw clenched tight, his hands clenched at his sides. "Condescending." Bones hissed. "Jim looks like he's been run over and you're worried about whether I'm insulting your culture or not." Spock took a step toward Bones, growling even louder, but I was faster.

I put my hands calmly on his chest and held him back. I had barely touched him before he recoiled from me as if I had burned him. “That’s enough, Bones. For Vulcans, Pon Farr is one of the most intimate things. I need you to be my friend in this, so at least try not to get thrown out, okay ?" I asked him. Bones just grumbled, but then nodded.

"Well." Ambassador Sarek raised his voice. "I think it would be best for everyone if we go our separate ways. Spock, you come with me. The others stay here and take care of Captain Kirk. I'll go to the High Priestess straight away and make the necessary preparations. Until tomorrow." He stepped aside and waited for Spock to walk past him. But he hesitated and looked at me.

"I'm fine. You didn't hurt me." I said and took him in my arms. "I'll wait for you here and it'll be over tomorrow, okay?"

"Okey." Spock hid his face in my hair. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me, ashayam*." I hugged him tighter. “I was never mad at you, sa t’hy’la. You can not help it."

Before Spock left the room, he turned to Jim. “I'm sorry, Jim. Thank you for protecting Lucy from me. I'll be eternally grateful to you." Jim waved him off with a wry smile. "Oh, nonsense. You're my friend, that's a given. Even if I wouldn't say no if the next few drinks went to you." Spock's mouth twitched before he turned away and left the room, followed by his father.

***

When I woke up the next morning I felt completely exhausted. Bones, Scotty, Jim and I stayed up a little longer trying to put the room back in order. I peeled myself out of bed and went into the living room. In one corner the broken furniture lay piled on top of each other, a pile of dust in front of it. Jim was sprawled out on the sofa, snoring softly. I shook him awake. “Come on, get up. I'm going to get ready and then it's your turn, okay ?" Jim hummed and rubbed his face. " Hmm... Yeah..."

Shaking my head, I went into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and showering, I sat on the edge of the bathtub and stared at the traditional dress hanging neatly on the hanger on the door like a dark omen. It was floor length and had medium length balloon sleeves. Like flowing water, blue and green colors flowed around the dress and made it shimmer like a lizard rising from the water. I tied my hair up and slipped into the dress. It was light and made of thin, fine material. It fell in soft lines over my body and billowed on the floor. Great. It was way too long. Hopefully I wouldn't trip. I mentally cursed the much taller Vulcans.

A pounding on the door broke me out of my thoughts. “Lucy, hurry up. Scotty and Bones are already waiting and I haven't even showered yet." I pulled the door open and switched with Jim. Carefully, so as not to step on the dress, I went into the living room. Scotty and Bones were sitting there on the sofa. They were dressed in floor-length white tunics and wore something like a gray wool parka over their shoulders.

A little later, Jim emerged from the bathroom in the same outfit. "I think I'm dying." He announced, pulling the tunic up to his hips. "How on earth do they not shrink in these clothes?" Bones shook his head. “Were you not paying attention in the academy? Vulcans are used to heat. Their body temperature is higher than ours and they experience hypothermia much later than we do."

"And then they wear carpets for miles on a desert planet?" Jim put the parka on the sofa and tried to somehow sit with his tunic on. It looked really ridiculous. I had to laugh, which earned me a dirty look.

“Ay Lassie , it is definitely beneficial to wear long, loose clothes in such temperatures and sunlight. They provide enough UV protection and keep you reasonably cool." Scotty chimed in, leaning back more comfortably. "I like this tunic. Maybe I can take one home with me."

Jim opened his mouth but was interrupted by a knock on the door. I stood up and waded through the masses of skirt to the door. When I opened it I saw Ambassador Sarek and Spock. Sarek was dressed in the same robes as the others, but when my eyes landed on Spock, I stopped breathing. He looked hot. He wore a gold tunic with a white collar made of fine silk. Over it he wore a knee-length blue jacket embroidered with gold decorations. His face was framed by the high collar of his jacket and contrasted wonderfully with his black hair.

I walked the path in silence next to Spock. All my concentration was on not tripping. A tingling feeling spread through my body the longer the walk went. As we turned a corner, there was a woman standing there in an equally elaborate red dress. Spock stopped me. "Do you know what you have to do?" I nodded uncertainly. "I'm going with the high priestess, right?"

"Correctly. We'll meet again soon." He squeezed my hand encouragingly and I slowly walked towards the High Priestess with unsteady steps. "Hello Lieutenant Esteban. I'm High Priestess T'Pau . Do you know what you have to do?" The older Vulcan woman asked me. "Yes. When we start, I have to be the last to follow the group." I answered, out of breath. A gong could be heard in the distance. She nodded. "Then let's get started."

Scotty and Bones got in line behind T'Pau and I followed them last into the small stadium. It was surrounded by high stone walls. A large jade gong hung in the middle; Spock stood patiently by. Standing next to a wall behind Spock were his father and Jim. I stood there, Scotty and Bones at my side, waiting for my turn.

The priestess greeted Spock with the Vulcan salute, which he returned. He knelt before her and placed the fingertips of her right hand right next to his ear. He stood up and looked at his father and Jim. As if on command, they stepped next to him. “As you probably remember, Priestess, this is Captain James Tiberius Kirk and my father is Ambassador Sarek . "I have chosen them to be my witnesses to the ceremony." Spock explained calmly.

"And how do you guarantee their presence?" She asked him.

"With my life." Spock replied firmly.

“What will happen now comes from the beginning of time. It is the volcanic heart, the volcanic soul. It is kal'i'farr*." she began to recite.

Spock slowly walked back to the gong and I followed him. Scotty and Bones stayed where they were supposed to. We stopped briefly in front of the gong. Spock slowly reaching out, giving me time to interrupt him, but I didn't. The deep sound of the gong echoed through the stadium. “As it was destined from the beginning, and it will be for all tomorrow, for you, sa t'hy'la, I will do everything I can." I said in a loud voice and raised two fingers. "Lucy, my k'diwa, from you comes everything that I am." Spock replied and placed his fingers on mine. I pressed sensitively against his fingers.

"As it was in the beginning, so it shall be now." I gently stroked his fingers. Spock took my entire hand in his. "Two bodies, one spirit." He finished the ritual and took me in his arms.

***

After we had completed the ritua, we were led by the priestess to a single small hut at the edge of the rite site. The hut was made of reddish stone with a black roof. The door was made of dark wood and was decorated with volcanic symbols. Small windows nestled between black shutters

A few meters away there were a few benches under a small canopy. Soft pillows were spread across them. A fire burned in the middle. The small square was surrounded by a low blue hedge with red flowers. Plants that were unfamiliar to me were planted loosely around the hut. The priestess opened the door and motioned for us to enter. “We will wait for you here. The bonding ritual is an important part of our culture; correct execution and witnessing are essential. If any difficulties or questions arise, do not hesitate to reveal yourself."

I looked between Jim, Bones, Scotty, Ambassador Sarek , and the priestess with wide eyes.

Witnesses?

But I didn't have time to think about it any further. Spock pulled me into the hut behind him. As soon as the priestess had closed the door behind us, Spock's hands were on mine. "What do you think, k'diwa?" He asked, feeling my confusion and fear through his hands.

"Are the others going to sit out there the whole time?" I looked down and blushed. Just the thought that Spock's father knew what his son was going to do was so embarrassing, that I wanted to sink into the ground. And the possibility that he could hear us... I didn't even want to think about it.

"This ritual is very important to my people." Spock replied. "Do you trust me when I tell you that none of the witnesses present find it strange?"

“You probably don’t believe that yourself. On the other side of that door sits James Tiberius Kirk. How do you think he's going to tease us for the next few months when we go out there again?"

“Jim knows how important my culture is to me. He won't dare joke about it. And if he does, I will use the Vulcan neck hold to silence him." Spock smiled mischievously at me. And the image of Jim passing out on the floor brought a small grin to my face. "Okey. " I breathed. I trusted Spock to stand up for me if Jim did anything. I wasn't worried about Bones and Scotty as they were mostly just dragged into the taunts by Jim. Then I looked Spock in the eyes: "Doesn't it bother you that there are five people out there listening to us having sex?"

Spock smiled with hungry eyes. "On the contrary. I'm happy thinking about everyone now knowing who is claiming you. Let all New Vulkan hear who you belong to. I need you. I want to hear how good I make you feel. I want you to moan louder than you have ever done before. You belong to Me!"

Jesus... Spock during Pon Farr was already a different number. My usually stoic Vulcan now circled me like a hungry lion its prey. His eyes were dark with lust and he was breathing heavily. I felt the desire boiling inside me and pooling between my legs. Without taking his eyes off me, Spock stripped off his ritual clothing until he stood naked in front of me. He then began to pull my dress over my head.

Carelessly dismissing, he pressed his lips hard against mine. He grabbed me by my thighs and lifted me up. A short sound of horror escaped my mouth as my back slammed against the wall. “Sorry, t'hy'la . Did I hurt you?"

"No. It just surprised me." I replied breathlessly. Spock hummed in relief against my lips and kissed my chin, my neck, up to the sensitive spot under my ear. When he sucked the soft skin between his teeth, the first moan escaped me .

" T'hy'la ..." Spock's voice was hoarse and strained. "I can't hold back any longer. Please... allow me to begin the ritual."

"Nafai*." I breathed. As soon as I had agreed, Spock lowered me onto his member. I threw my head back, a loud moan on my lips.

He held me tightly with one arm and didn't move at all. He placed the other on my cheek, ready to merge our consciousnesses together to build the foundation for the bonding ritual. He looked at me expectantly, "Are you ready?"

I nodded and closed my eyes.

He merged our consciousness and our memories blurred together. Then he began to say the ceremonial words in Vulcan. I had made a translation in my language a few days earlier. The priestess had explained to me that it was extremely important for Spock and me to perform the ritual in both languages because we come from different races.

„T'nash-veh k'diwa.

Nash-veh spock ugaya tor kwon-sum tanilau klashausu, ashaya heh savety tor du.

Nash-veh dungi kwon-sum nam-tor tra' na' du tor nenikaya du k'fai ek' ra sarlah.

Tor gol'nev du svi' rom heh svi' rasahkos.

La' nash-veh lamok heh ya'akash du tor kal-tor nash-veh tor nam-tor kashek klimtau k' du na' etwel ha-tor.

Sanoi nem-tor nash-veh u' ish-veh telan katelau.

Etwel tel-tor dungau to'ovau karik abru' wak heh tanilau etek k' ek' wuh a'rak vel ik sarlah k' ha-tor telan."

I answered him in Vulcan to complete his part of the ritual: „Nash-veh lucy nem-tor du u' t'nash-veh telan katelau."

Now it was my turn to say the same words to complete the bonding ritual:

"My beloved.

I, Lucy, promise to always offer you protection, love and security.

I will always be there for you to support you in whatever comes.

To support you in good and bad.

Here I stand and ask you to allow me to merge with you for our lives.

Please accept me as your bonding mate.

Our bond should grow stronger over time and provide us with all the positive aspects that come with a lifelong bond."

Spock replied in my language, ending the ritual. "I, Spock, accept you as my bonding mate." Then he removed his hand from my cheek and I opened my eyes.

" T'hy'la ? " Can you hear me?" I put my hand over my mouth. "Oh my God..." I gasped. “I heard you in my head! It worked!" Spock smiled slightly. "Of course it worked. Did you have any doubts?"

"Just a little." I admitted, watching with relief as his eyes widened as he heard me in his head. "Fascinating," he exhaled, carrying me to the bed.

Only then did I look around the small room. Everything was decorated in orange-brown earth tones. A landscape painting of Vulcan hung in the middle above the bed. Next to the bed were two small, triangular bedside tables and two flower pots with plants I didn't recognize. On the opposite wall there was a brown leather sofa, a glass display case and a small shoe cabinet. To my left was a trellis with an ivy-like plant and a picture of a vulan poem, which I couldn't decipher. Spock sank into the soft mattress with me. The cover was rough against my skin. I suspected it was made from the coarse linen of simple Vulcan clothing.

The change in position caused Spock to penetrate me deeper. "Hmph." I mumbled, trying to muffle my volume with my hand. “K’diwa. Stop hiding. Everyone knows what's happening between us here. Trying to make them believe otherwise is extremely illogical." Spock murmured between gentle kisses. "I know... It's just... This is extremely embarrassing for me. For us humans, intimacy rarely happens in public." I whispered, trying not to blush any further.

"Understandable. We Vulcans are also not a people who openly show affection physically. But this can hardly be called public."

"Still..." I muttered. "It's weird."

"T'hy'la, what can I do to stop you from being embarrassed?" he asked, looking at me intently. His brown eyes were almost completely black. Hunger and worry alternated as if he were himself not sure what he should feel.

I put a hand on his cheek. "Talk to me. Tell me what you think, what you feel, what you want from me to make me forget where we are. Make me feel like there is only you. I want you to own me completely. I want to be completely at your mercy."

" K'diwa ..." Spock groaned, pushing himself onto his hands with his head thrown back. „Oekon du ri tor fai-tor, ra du aishan tor.*"

And then he started moving. He slowly increased the pace until he was thrusting hard and deep into me. He took my hands and held them pressed to the mattress above my head. Like a train crashing into a wall, his emotions rushed through me. His desire was overwhelming and I wondered how he hadn't jumped on me much sooner. " Look at me!" His voice echoed in my head. I opened my eyes and looked at him. "You're only mine, understand?"

I nodded, but that wasn't enough for him.

"Answer me!"

"Yes Commander."

I let my gaze wander over his body. The key to my collar dangled around his neck on a thin silver chain. It stood in stark contrast to his dark, hairy chest. A thin line of hair ran down his stomach to his crotch. As if hypnotized, my gaze remained fixed on the spot where he penetrated me.

As Spock leaned down to kiss me, the key clinked rhythmically against the metal ring around my neck. His mouth traveled over my chin and neck. He stayed just below my ear for a moment before sucking the skin between his teeth. His tongue glided over it again and again causing hot waves of pleasure to run through my body.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes Commander."

I had no idea what he was planning to do, but I didn't care as long as he didn't stop fucking me. When he bit, I was so surprised that I reared up and let out a scream. Pain shot through my throat, but Spock didn't stop. On the contrary, his movements became faster and his grip on my wrists became stronger. He threw his head back and let a loud growl rumble through his chest. Warm liquid ran down my neck. Was I bleeding? I got the answer when Spock kissed me. I tasted the metallic taste of blood on his lips.

"I'm bleeding!" I accused him telepathically.

“Forgive me, t'hy'la . I didn't mean to..." Worry rose in his mind. "I forgot you were human. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Fulfill your promise." I grinned diabolically at him as I shared my thoughts with him. "Make me cum. I want everyone to hear how good you fuck me."

"Anything for you t'hy'la ."

He took both of my hands in one and then placed his free fingers on my clit. "I don't want you to hold back, understand?" He panted, his voice strained. "Yes, Commander." I answered obediently.

He slowly circled two of his fingers over my sensitive spot, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from me. He adjusted his pace to his hand and didn't take his eyes off me. His eyes wandered attentively over my face, my breasts, over his hand on my crotch and back again. The familiar tension began to form in my stomach, indicating that my orgasm was not far away. My legs were shaking and my breathing was heavy, punctuated by ragged moans.

"Spock..." I breathed. "Please... I have to... I can't..."

"Come for me, k'diwa." His fingers increased their pace, the thrusts becoming heavier and deeper. And then the band snapped. I bucked beneath him, lips formed in an O. "Oh God! Spock!" I didn't hold back. My moans were loud and definitely unmistakable to anyone sitting outside or walking by.

"T'hy'la." He called to me in his mind, pressing his forehead hard against mine. His consciousness forced its way into my head. He didn't hold it back and I could see what he saw, felt how hard it was for him to control himself. Spock was on the verge of his orgasm. His entire thinking was animalistic and possessive and I kept catching glimpses of his thoughts. His mind connected and disconnected from mine in waves.

"Mine. I have to..."

Spock closed his eyes. His breathing was heavy and uneven. He reached for my hand, but instead of taking it, I put it to my mouth. I waited until he opened his eyes again and looked at him as I slowly put two fingers in my mouth. I started sucking on them, letting my tongue dance around them. He gritted his teeth hard, his eyes fixed on my mouth and his fingers. I knew what I was doing to him. Vulcan hands and ears were the most sensitive areas. I practically gave him a blowjob. " K'diwa ..."

I took his fingers deeper into my mouth. His movements becoming frantic and it wasn't long before he emptied himself inside me, twitching and growling. With a soft pop I released his fingers from my mouth. But Spock apparently wasn't done with me yet. He forcefully grabbed me by the waist and pulled me down to the edge of the bed.

Then he knelt in front of me. The head between my thighs. Without hesitation he licked my entire entrance once. I reared up and clawed at the bed sheet. Instinctively I tried to close my thighs, but Spock held me tight. He happily pushed his tongue into my entrance and began to collect the mixture of his cum and my wetness in his mouth, then he stood up and leaned over me.

"Open your mouth!" he ordered. I obeyed and he spit everything into my mouth. "You only swallow when I allow you to, understand?"

"Yes Commander."

"Good girl."

A quiet hum could be heard from his chest as he knelt in front of me again. Without warning, he pushed two fingers inside me and wrapped his lips expertly around my clit. I groaned and his sperm ran from the corner of my mouth down my cheek. I quickly swiped it back into my mouth. A knot beginning to build inside me as his ministrations went on. My walls fluttered around his fingers and I twitched under his tongue, my mind completely fogged up. Every time I exhaled; a moan escaped me. Regardless, Spock drove me closer and closer to the edge. It was like he was trying to break a record.

His tongue circled my clit in sloppy figure eights, the fingers massaged my sensitive point in the same rhythm. "Spock!" I called him in my mind. Signaling how close I was.

"Swallow!"

And I swallowed right at the moment the knot burst. I called out his name, gurgling as the wave washed through my body. The edges of my vision went black and I raised my hands, shaking, hoping to hold on to him. As if he sensed it, he was on top of me. He took me in his arms and rolled over onto his back. Exhausted, I collapsed on top of him and snuggled under his chin. His hand gently stroked my back, the other held my head. We lay there for a few moments to regain our strength.

#spock x reader #spock smut #commander spock #fem reader #smut #pon farr #star trek

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