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konigbabe · 1 year

Text

feast of pleasure

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x König x Keegan P. Russ x fem!reader

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: smut; p-in-v sex; anal sex; unprotected sex; foursome - f/m/m/m; fingering; oral - f & m; strong language; dirty talk; gendered reader; gendered terminology

Summary: A simple game; a friendly atmosphere; until one of the masked men asked, "would you rather kiss him or me?"; now spread wide for all three of them, nothing to hide as you submitted to the pleasure they were willing to give.

A/N: Shoutout to @ave661 for making this art. Divider by @firefly-graphics [source]

masterlist • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

Your body was an invitation, a tantalizing feast of pleasure, just waiting to be savored; skin like silk, invitingly soft, begging to be touched. Caressed. Worshipped. You were theirs to explore and enjoy; to be taken and owned, an object of their pleasure and desires.

Ghost's lips brushed your neck, bruised from Keegan’s possessive assault as he marked you everywhere he could reach, the imprints of his teeth slightly visible. An almost animalistic grunt left his clenched teeth as he took notice.

No one actually knew how you ended up in such a situation. At first, such an idea would go completely over your head, laughing it off; which you did in the beginning, just a silly fantasy, something out of reach for you. The enigma of the masks, the unyielding thoughts swirling inside your brain as you watched them in action, bodies working on autopilot. Movements swift and merciless.

Desperately trying to hold onto your sanity, brain slowly turning to mush as you ground into Keegan’s hips, feeling his hardness over your clothed core. A satisfied grunt left his kiss-bruised lips; hands caressing the exposed flesh of your thighs, fingers dancing deliberately over the hem of your underwear as he watched. Eyes fixated on your face, looking as your lips wrapped around the spongy head of König’s cock, sucking the tip in with hollowed cheeks. Hand wrapped around his girth, pumping the remaining length while the other hand worked on Simon, who was standing opposite König, head thrown back, eyes closed in a blissful pleasure as your fingers danced along his cock. Thumb swiping over the head occasionally, spreading more precum over his foreskin.

Keegan’s tongue was leaving wet patches on your neck, blowing a cold breeze on the heating skin as his hands led you through the motions, his fingers on the small of your back prompting you to grind on him harder.

"Dammit, kitten," his voice was rough around the edges, just like him, "can feel you soaking me."

No one questioned the situation no more; the last one to give in was König, uncertain of the idea the longest.

It all began innocently enough, with every one of you gathered to enjoy a celebratory drink after a successful raid. To liven up the night, someone suggested playing a game of "Would You Rather?". After a few rounds of drinks, the sensation of the alcohol coursing through your veins was palpable; it was Keegan who shifted the atmosphere, going from a simple question to "Would you rather kiss me or Ghost?".

The air became still, tense as you stared at him; the dark pupils spreading over the blue ocean of his eyes, darkening them. König shifted in his seat, gaze watching the amber-colored drink swirl in his glass. Both ghosts, however, stared at you in unison; Keegan curious, Simon daring.

A giggle of nervousness escaped your lips; deep breath in, you felt suffocated for a moment, eyes fixated on the man in front of you; König's eyes glancing towards you, his countenance bowed, creasing his brow in a myriad of wrinkles, his face unreadable.

"All."

Keegan grinned at you, mischief glinting in his eyes as he shot a look at Simon and then König. A silent agreement was made at that moment; something new was about to arise. That was when you found out that your dream, the fantasy, was nowhere near reality. Their kisses; the way they worshipped you; it was all so different, it made your head spiral.

Keegan kissed like a man starved; lips branding yours with passionate fervor, tongue swirling with skillful expertise, exploring the depths of your mouth with each teasing stroke. Hands grasping your throat, the guttural groans shooting straight to your core, heart racing. His presence intoxicating, tongue driving you into complete submission. Hands angling your face to his own desire, thumb caressing the front of your throat; the gentle touch absolute contrast to the rough bites bruising your lips. His touch was raw. Primal. Promising. Keegan shifted you into a pliant state, his touch commanding, handling you in any way he desired, assuring you that in his hands, all your worries would melt away.

Ghost, Simon was a guide; hands grasping your thighs, hips, caressing your curves as his lips moved along yours. Sucking your tongue, a promise of what was about to happen if you let him in; tongue dancing along your lower lip, bruised and abused after Keegan’s hungry assault. Simon soothed the pain, becoming a beacon of comfort and security. A watcher. Observer. He was in control, his moves calculated and sure, yet utterly passionate.

König; sweet and caring. A benign touch of aftercare after the ghosts had their turns. His size betrayed him; a gentle giant. His lips were soft and tasted like honey. Hands caressing your face, thumb swiping over your heated cheeks as his tongue tangled with yours in a passionate dance of devotion. Hesitant to give in at first, even with your eyes begging and Keegan’s encouraging words; "C’mon mate, nothing to be shy about, we’re all friends here, right?" and Simon’s affirmative nod as his hand stayed on your leg, thumb brushing the inside of your thigh.

The ghosts watched in inquisitiveness, wondering if the silent observer would become a willing participant in their little game. Looking into König’s eyes, a wave of sympathy swept over you. Features relaxing as you reached across the small table, hips digging into the edge, you had to almost bend over it to reach his face. Simon’s hand moved to the back of your thigh, his touch never leaving as your eyes scanned König’s face, noticing the pinkish tint on his cheeks, the alcohol rushing through his veins.

"It’s just us," you whispered, feeling his breath fan over your wet lips, "nothing to be ashamed of."

His touch was electrifying, hand bringing your face into his by the back of your neck, fingers digging into your scalp as König enveloped you in his presence. A moan escaped your occupied lips as Simon’s fingertips brushed over the apex of your thighs before dancing over your clothed center; hips bucking into his hand involuntarily.

"You want us, pet?" he asked, tone lazy. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt König’s hands on your face, lips smashed against yours.

A hum of appreciation rumbled deep inside your throat. A hot jolt of energy spread inside your tummy as a hand stroked the exposed skin of the small of your back. Lips brushed against your ear before someone swiped their tongue on the skin behind it; Keegan’s words echoed in your head like a soft lullaby, sending you into a state of pure bliss, "we need words, kitten."

Your heart fluttered, air leaving your lungs as you exhaled in contentment, breaking from König’s kiss. Gazing deeply into Keegan's eyes, you could feel the desire radiating from his soul; his eyes were like a spell, holding you in place and igniting a flame of longing in your core.

"I want you all, all at once, Keegan," you murmured. König’s hand tightened in your hair, the pull straining your scalp as a strong urge to move closer to Keegan overtook your body; drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"Then get on that table," it felt like it was just the two of you for a moment; your surroundings faded away as König's hand caressed your hair and Simon's fingertips caressed the apex of your thighs.

Eyes never leaving Keegan’s, body on autopilot, you followed his order. The coolness of the wood against the heated skin of your back, shirt discarded in the process. Simon stood up, gripping your ankle firmly while all three of them looked at your exposed body, eyes traveling over the soft curves, searing you in your place. The chill air gradually grew hotter, completely engulfing your skin in its warmth.

Legs spread on each side of Simon, he took off your shoes and socks, fingertips circling around your ankles as you looked up at König, who was now standing to his full height. Extending one arm toward him, a soft "come here" left your lips in a murmur, a grin on your swollen lips. He stayed still for a moment, the image of you, spread wide on the table, engraving in his memory to be remembered in the future.

Eventually, he crouched down; hand on the table as his lips connected with yours once again, a satisfied whimper sounded from your lips.

Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, quickly igniting a wildfire of desire within you. You heard Keegan talk, sweet words of admiration, but it was Simon's low and rasped tone that lingered in your ears after he had spoken; too indulged in the depths of satisfaction König’s lips had brought you, you didn't care enough to listen. Completely lost in the bliss, your mind on cloud nine, the intensity of the sensations coursing through you increasing with every touch, every caress, every whisper.

A hand sneaked on your hip, giving it a squeeze; an order your body understood. Arching your back off the table, someone’s fingertips traced the clasp of your bra before getting rid of it. One swift movement; practiced, skilled. A mouth on the soft tissue of your breast, another hand kneading the other one, wet lips enveloping your nipple, a tongue swiping over the pulsing bundle of nerves, thumb circling the other one.

Moaning into König’s mouth, his tongue swiped over yours, the rich taste of alcohol mingling with the sweet taste of your saliva. Breaths ragged. Another pair of hands undid your belt, sending a thrill down your spine. Simon’s voice felt distant, yet his breath fanned over your belly button as he spoke in a sultry tone, "lift your hips for me, pet."

You complied, of course. Nothing but respect for your lieutenant. One powerful tug and your legs were freed from the restraints of your pants. Kisses lingered on your calves, the men absolutely stunned by the beauty beneath them. Simon’s tongue swiped over your skin, teeth sinking into your legs; aggressive, primal, possessive. The after kisses gentle, soothing the pain away as you writhed underneath them.

It was Keegan who pulled away first, admiring the irritated flesh of your breasts before his palm laid flat against your soaked center, a guttural grunt accompanied by his lips on your ribs vibrating through your entire being. Hips grounding into his hand, he added pressure onto your aching nub.

The few words exchanged between the men were almost drowned out by your own heavy breathing as you shamelessly moved your hips, chasing the sensation of pressure that lingered between your legs. König's lips were still locked with yours, his hands nowhere to be found as you both embraced in a passionate kiss.

The air was saturated with the musky smell of arousal and sexuality, sending a shiver of delight through your body. As your mouths parted, you could see König's hand wrapped firmly around himself, feeling all the air punched out of your lungs.

Keegan’s touch was electric. You wanted more; a craving that only intensified as you continued to grind against his palm, pushing against his body as your eagerness grew with every second.

That was when you noticed; Simon disappeared. The ghost nowhere to be found, your eyes scanned the empty room before meeting with Keegan.

"Looking for lube," he explained, a sly smile on his face as he sneaked one hand behind your neck, fingers digging into your scalp, "we’re gonna need it."

"Okay," you swallowed, a knot tightening inside your throat as you realized; this was really happening. König’s grunts clouded your mind, Keegan’s eyes staring into your soul.

Bracing yourself on your hands, your lips chased Keegan’s, legs swung to close him in. Reaching your hand to your side, your fingertips traced König’s arm, feeling the hard muscle flexing as he palmed himself in a slow, almost punishing rate.

Keegan explored your body, lips an inch from yours but never touching. Teasing. As you moved forward, he pulled back, stopping all movement. A game of cat and mouse.

"Keegan," you mumbled, lips brushing his. From the side of your view, you saw König; standing tall, cock hard and glistening with precum. Swirling your tongue over Keegan’s lips, his eyes dark and smoldering with passion, the silvery blue of them completely overtaken by the deep, unbridled desire that was radiating from him. A playful sparkle shone in his eyes, though, teasing and inviting you to explore the depths of his craving. His lips were soft and inviting, urging you to continue to tantalize his senses with your passionate embrace.

A cunning grin formed on your face, biting your lips, you wrapped your ankles around his shoulders, his hands closing over your thighs. Reaching to your side, your hand enveloped König, stopping his movement as you licked your lips.

Feeling Keegan's stare, quickly looking up at König, you noticed the passionate craving in his eyes.

A kiss on his head, the sweetness of the precum coating your lips; salty, briny, brackish. A moan left you as your lips wrapped around the tip.

The moment didn’t last long; Keegan’s hands gripped your hips, tugging you forward until the edge of the table scraped your naked back as you slid off. Releasing König’s cock with a whimper, you landed on Keegan’s lap. He was already hard, a groan escaping his parted lips as you ground into him.

"Where the fuck is Simon," you mumbled, hand wrapping around König’s cock as Keegan’s lips searched yours, mingling the taste of you and König with his own. His kiss made your skin burn and your heart race as you felt a wave of desire wash over you; you wanted them all and you wanted them now.

As if being summoned, Simon’s dark and looming figure appeared by your side, handing Keegan a bottle of petroleum jelly.

Your eyes locked with his, heart fluttering as a smudge of darkness framed the mesmerizing, teal blue of his eyes. Simon’s gaze was intense yet reassuring, and you felt a deep, primal need course through you.

Fingers locking on his belt, you tugged; the signal not going unnoticed. Hips circling on top of Keegan, his hands caressed your thighs as you waited; waited for Simon to finally free himself, cock hardening as your fingers wrapped around his girth.

He couldn’t compare to König in length; but who could? Simon was more on the thicker side, your fingers too short to wrap fully around him.

Keegan's lips pressed hungrily against the front of your throat, a breathy moan escaping from your kiss-swollen lips as your hands worked on the men next to you.

Turning to König, you took him in your mouth while swiping your thumb over Simon’s tip, the droplet of precum not enough to lubricate; so you switched, the rich taste of König soon mixing with Simon’s as you sucked his tip in, tongue flat against his underside.

König’s broken English mixed with German as you pumped him, slow and tantalizing, prolonging the pleasure.

"Bloody hell, pet," Simon exhaled, hand on top of your head as he guided your face on his cock. Taking as much as you could, you felt the spongy head hit the back of your throat, closing in on him; feeling him shudder shot fire to your cunt, pulsating for attention as you felt the sense of power over the man, known for his scary, distant demeanor; now completely under the spell of your mouth, the most vulnerable he might ever be.

Mouth back to König, you took as much in as your mouth allowed; which wasn’t a lot but enough to satisfy. Grinding your hips into Keegan, his teeth sank into the skin on top of your breast as his hand laid flat on your tummy before creeping downwards in an entrancing manner.

Hand sneaking inside your underwear, a moan vibrated in your throat, stuffed full of König as Keegan’s finger collected your wetness, spreading it over your aching clit.

"Damn, kitten," he mumbled, sucking on your nipple in the process, "you’re already soaking and we haven’t even started yet."

A delightful feeling spread in your abdomen as Keegan’s fingers spread your lips, teasing your entrance.

Pulling back, you shot him a pleading look, "please."

"What?" he raised his eyebrows, that same sparkle in his eyes as before, "you want my fingers?"

You nodded. Mind hazy. Completely wiped off of any rational thinking as all you could feel were the hands on you, Simon’s grip in your hair slowly guiding you back to him.

Moans of pleasure mixed with grunts of delight, everything felt like a wildfire as Keegan’s fingers explored every inch of your innermost depths, his nails delicately scraping against your quivering walls, sending jolts of pleasure radiating through your body like a wave of molten honey.

Your heart raced as Keegan's touch became increasingly more passionate, the sensation of his fingertips teasing and tantalizing you to unimaginable heights of pleasure.

"Fuck yourself, kitten," Keegan’s voice was rough, teeth scraping along your shoulder as he stilled all the movement. Legs bracing on either side of him, you lift yourself up until only the fingertips remained inside; slowly descending back down.

Simon’s grunts turned into groans, a moan escaping his lips once in a while; the sound making you go absolutely feral.

"Fuck, guys," Keegan chuckles as he watched you fuck yourself with his fingers, "she’s dripping, might not even need that lube."

Heat spread in your face as you listened to Simon’s rugged sounds, his head pulsating inside your throat as his fingers tighten in your hair.

"I’m gonna cum," he thrust forward; a gentle, calculated move, "gonna fill that mouth of yours."

Clenching around Keegan’s fingers, curses left his mouth; thumb on your clit, hand on your thigh, an encouraging squeeze here and there.

And then, for the first time, you felt the electrifying sensation of witnessing Simon, the mysterious and alluring Ghost, unraveling in pleasure; his brows intensely furrowed, a delicate layer of sweat glistening on his temples, his lips parted in a blissful moan as he spilled deep inside your mouth, coating your tongue in his bitter release.

Pulling away, you swiped your tongue over his slit, collecting the remains of his cum on the tip of your tongue. Drowning in your own pleasure, swallowing what Simon gave you, you looked at Keegan; eyes wide, hungry as he met your thrusts, feeling your walls clenching around his fingers. Gasping, nearing your own climax, he added another finger, curling them inside to find that sweet spot; to get you to scream for him.

Tightening your grip around König, increasing the speed of your hand, a strangled moan escaped your open, bruised lips. The heat inside your tummy overwhelming as you felt the sensation of pleasure grow. Keegan’s thumb on your clit moved faster, lips circling your nipple as you moaned, the wetness between your legs a delicious sensation.

Hips bucking; Keegan’s fingers continued pumping through your climax, sending surging sensations of pleasure that seemed to last forever.

"Get her on the table," Simon ordered. Withdrawing his fingers from you, Keegan’s arms wrapped around your back; you could feel the wetness on his fingers coat your side as he lifted you up.

Legs tangling in the air, bathing in the blissful ecstasy, he laid you back on the table, discarding the last vestiges of clothing. Your body exposed, vulnerable to his touch, you felt a rush of arousal as he trailed his fingertips over your curves, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that left you breathless.

Looking at König, you whispered a desperate, breathy plea, "Please, König, I need you to fuck me."

You could swear that you saw his cock twitch at your words. His face flushed with desire; he nodded.

"She’ll need more prep for you, my man," Keegan said to König as you reached for the giant, seeing Simon in the corner of your eyes; standing near, arms crossed over his naked chest. He was watching the scene before him; observing. His eyes a calming haven to the storm happening. A guardian; you’d say.

"Condoms?" Keegan took you from your trance, hand palming his own cock as he waited for your answer; shaking your head, whispering a simple "implant", he nodded. Hands running down your hips, he turned you around, tugging you backward until your ass hang in the air.

Face forward, you latched your mouth back on König. Keegan's hand glided along the contours of your back, sliding over the flesh of your asscheeks.

Spreading you apart for him, the hot breath of his desire fanned over your dripping center as he flicked his tongue inside you, the sensation causing you to arch your back and cry out in pleasure, a hum vibrating in his throat.

"Tastes like goddamn heaven," he kissed your opening, standing up. Guiding the tip of his hard, velvety cock to your trembling entrance, tasting your sweet release, he eased into you, filling you with aching pleasure. Inch by inch, he split you apart and built you back together, stoking the flames of desire within you.

His hands moved with a delicate touch all over your body, making their way to your hips, grasping them tightly as he pushed himself further into you. You felt an overwhelming pleasure as your body was slowly filled with his raging desire. His hips pushed against yours as he went deeper, allowing your gummy walls to wrap around him as he moved.

The moment he was fully seated inside, he stilled; relishing in the feeling of being absolutely full, you took as much of König as you possibly could inside your mouth, tasting the sweet, salty skin. His body gently rocked against your face, each thrust sending a thrill of arousal to where Keegan was seated.

Keegan’s thrusts were deliberate and provoking, each one sending an explosive wave of pleasure that made your body quiver with delight; hands moved along your curves, igniting an inferno of passion that threatened to consume you.

König’s groans grew louder as you hollowed your cheeks, tongue laying flat over his slit for a moment.

The room was soon filled with the sound of your moans and your wetness as Keegan rolled his hips against your ass, filling you up with every inch of his cock. Every time he pulled away, your body yearned for him, your muscles contracting around him.

"Gonna fuck that ass of yours, kitten," Keegan groaned between the tantalizing thrusts, "s’that okay?"

Moaning around König’s cock, you already knew the drill. Letting him slip from your warm mouth, you allowed Keegan to do what he wanted with your body.

Pulling away completely, he swiped his fingers over your mixed juices before plunging back inside; spreading your own juices over the tight ring of muscles, he eased the tip of his finger in.

"Fuckin’ hell," a deep, filthy grunt escaped Keegan’s lips as he watched you eagerly suck it in.

Simon’s eyes burned holes into Keegan as he observed his preparations. All while watching your mouth getting stuffed, silently admiring König for his stamina, being able to hold on for that long, knowing well how good your mouth feels, what that sharp tongue of yours can do.

Keegan worked on you, relaxing the muscles enough to allow him to get his whole finger in, coated in your juices, having to mix it with the jelly Simon brought earlier to make it as comfortable as he could for you; two fingers, scissoring you open for his cock to sank in. Soon.

Simon walked over to the table you were displayed on, rough hand running along the curve of your spine as you felt Keegan’s tip probe your ass.

"Ready?" he asked. König stepped back for a moment, letting you take a deep breath as Simon’s hand sneaked in your hair, tucking a few stray, sweat-drenched strands behind your ear as you let yourself be drowned in his eyes.

König’s reassuring words filled your ears, Simon’s stare holding you hostage as you gasped, feeling a sting of pain shoot up your body, chest pushing into the table as your legs involuntary flexed, feet pushing upwards to stand on tiptoes as if your body was trying to run away.

"Careful there, man," Simon said, your eyes squeezed shut, lip sucked in.

"S’alright," you reassured the men around you. Keegan paused for a slight moment, hand sneaking around you to rest on your clit, fingers toying with the pulsating numb of nerves as he sunk the tip in, feeling the delightful squeeze of your insides.

A moan escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as Keegan split you open. His grunts reverberated through you, powerful, rasping growls that sent a wave of desire spiraling through your body until you were burning up with need. His groans seemed to penetrate your core, setting it alight until you were trembling with pleasure.

The moment you felt his hips brush against your asscheeks, you knew; he was fully inside. The feeling foreign yet so intensely erotic. Feeling every inch of him where no one else had ever been.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure. You could barely process the conversation between Keegan and the other men, the words fading away as you bathed in the slow, sensuous motions that he was making. His movements were expertly precise, coaxing out every ounce of pleasure from your body as he moved.

Stopping for a moment, Simon's fingertips roamed over your face before you were lifted up, Keegan still seated fully inside you. Sitting down, you felt him sink in deeper than before.

Resting your head on his shoulder, Keegan’s lips brushed over your ear, his legs spreading yours wide apart. Glistening cunt on display, you watched as König moved in front of you, squeezing his cock in his hand, eyes watching your juices drip onto Keegan’s hips.

König guided his throbbing, engorged cock to your entrance, hands resting possessively on your quivering thighs, squeezing them tight and pushing them apart as he sank himself deep into your welcoming walls. His spongy, swollen tip caressed the top of your cervix, eliciting a trembling moan of pleasure from your lips. Both men stayed still inside you, savoring the moment.

The intense heat of their bodies pressed against yours as the sensation of being so full intensified. One hand sneaking into König’s hair, you pulled the man closer, lips crashing against his, a plea to move escaping your mouth between the kisses.

Keegan's hands were firm on your hips as he began to thrust, slowly lifting you up with each motion before delicately letting you sink back onto his lap. Soon enough, both men found a satisfying rhythm, setting your body on fire, skin tingling with pleasure.

König's body took possession of you, his desire and heat radiating off of him and engulfing you. Eyes opened, you sought the last man available; Simon was standing in your arm’s reach, hand wrapped around his already hard, aching cock, his gaze piercing and unyielding as he looked at you.

You were entranced by the sight of him, feeling his need and hunger for you, unable to resist his allure. Arm reaching for him, he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing next to you, cock alert and right in front of your face.

Licking your lips, you wrapped your hand around the base before your mouth closed around the tip. Sliding your tongue around him, tasting him, you savored the sensation of his velvety smoothness, your eagerness to please him palpable.

Keegan's hand slowly, teasingly caressed your aching nub, coaxing forth an immense wave of pleasure that washed through your entire body. His words of encouragement, laced with König's melodic German, and Simon's shameless gasps of delight added to the intensity of the moment, and you found yourself consumed by the heat of their bodies, the tight embrace of being sandwiched between them. Every movement, every touch, added to the ever-growing pleasure that was coursing through your veins. You felt like you could burst with the intensity of the sensations, and you never wanted it to end.

"Ich kom-gonna cum inside," König grunted, hips buckling into yours.

Everything felt so unbelievably, mind-meltingly good. You moaned around Simon’s cock as the molten pleasure in your belly grew stronger, your body trembling and tingling with the intensity of it all.

Keegan stilled the moment you opened your mouth, Simon sliding out of you as the filthiest moan left your lips, head thrown back; the feeling of König’s load coating your insides awakening your nerves, setting them on fire as he fucked you through the orgasm.

"Shit," Keegan chuckled, "did you just-"

"I think so," Simon agreed, eyes following the glistening bead of sweat trailing down your temple as your whole body quivered, legs trembling; your pliant form completely devoured by the searing pleasure.

A whimper left your lips as König pulled out, leaving you painfully empty. One last kiss, a thank you, before he retreated to the side, leaving you sitting on Keegan’s lap, his cock still deep inside your ass.

You heard Simon talk, another incoherent order being given out. Watching as he laid down, Keegan guided your hips up. Legs unable to cooperate, the man was forced to basically carry you onto Simon’s lap.

Simon’s cock slipped inside you with ease, König’s and Keegan’s remains mixing with his as all three men felt the sensation of your gummy walls tonight, the tight squeeze you were willing to give, the snug feeling of your heat.

Kneeling behind you, Keegan stared in awe at your body, spread out before him, cunt already taken over by Simon; his thrusts deliberate. Measured. Deep. The tip of his cock kissing your walls with each thrust. The delicious sight of him pleasuring you almost brought Keegan to the brink of ecstasy just by watching.

Using another spoonful of jelly, he coated his cock in it before easing back inside. Keegan felt a thrill of pleasure at the sensation of your tight walls gripping him and the sensation of being so intimately connected to you. His pleasure only increased as Simon's hands guided your movements, the speed willfully increasing.

The rhythm of their combined thrusts grew stronger and faster as Simon felt your walls quiver around him, your moans of pleasure echoing through the heated room. His breathing quickened as Keegan rode the wave of pleasure that was building inside him, the pungent smell of sex so ever-present. He felt a wave of bliss wash over him as he moved closer to climax, Simon's groans of pleasure matching your own.

"Fuck, kitten," Keegan struggled to speak, mind spiraling with pleasure as his lips pressed against the skin between your shoulder blades, "gonna fill you up so good."

With one final thrust, he shuddered, hands squeezing your hips as he tugged you back into his hips, seating himself as deep as he could possibly go. A strangled moan left your lips, eyes locked with Simon’s as the man beneath you stilled, letting Keegan ride his high, use your body to the fullest before he got to his own climax.

Sitting back, Keegan couldn’t help but stare; the sight explicit. Filthy. Watching as his own cum leaked out of your ass and dripped onto Simon’s own cock before the ghost slammed himself fully back in. Simon’s hand sneaked at the back of your neck, bringing your face to his in a teeth-clashing kiss.

Rutting up inside your used and abused body, you let him absolutely ravage you; your body becoming nothing more than a ragdoll, overtaken by a wave of sweet and erotic bliss. His thrusts passionate as he claimed your body with every stroke as if it were his own.

His name left your lips like a prayer, arms too weak to hold yourself up as he drove you to another climax. His lips were hot against your skin, sending a wave of sparks through your veins as you moved closer to the sweet release. You felt the wave rise higher with no indication of stopping, until ultimately, a wave of contentment and delight enveloped you, a feeling of euphoria washing over your entire being.

"That’s it, kitten," his lips brushed your neck, bruised from Keegan’s possessive assault as he marked you everywhere he could reach, the imprints of his teeth slightly visible. An almost animalistic grunt left Simon’s clenched teeth as he took notice.

His thrusts became heavier, hitting the deepest corners of your gummy walls as he felt himself nearing climax. His lips pressed against yours again; his hot breath on your skin, hands tangled in your hair as he moved faster.

He moaned in pleasure as he thrust harder, feeling your body shiver as you laid on him, chest pressed against his. He moved his hands down to the apex of your thighs, pushing himself deeper into you. Simon’s thrusts were relentless as if he wanted to merge himself completely with you. You felt your body heat up as his intensity increased, crying out in pleasure.

"Think you can take me?" he groaned. A moan left your lips as you nodded into the crook of his neck. You felt him tense up as his thrusts became more powerful, and he let out a deep moan as he released himself into you. His body shuddered with pleasure as his thrusts became increasingly wild as if he was trying to get as deep as possible.

You felt your body trembling, breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts become sloppier. Shamelessly using the heat of your walls, the tight squeeze of your insides to ride his own high.

"Don’t forget the lady, Lt.," Keegan cheered from somewhere in the room, König’s chuckle following suit; too tired to look around to see where the men retrieved too. Simon’s fingertips danced on your tummy, sliding down before you rolled away from him, a whimper leaving your lips as his softening cock slipped out of your sensitive walls.

"S’okay," you mumbled, fingers grasping his hand to stop him, "I’m good."

"You sure?" he asked, eyes searching your face for confirmation to which you nodded. Closing your eyes, you relished in the feeling of his cum dripping out, already knowing that you were making a mess on the filthy floor of the room.

Simon sat up, hand on your ribs, eyes scanning your body for any signs of discomfort before he turned his head to the side.

"Keegan, bring me a warm towel," his voice was rough around the edges, "König, a glass of water."

His hand swept away the hair sticking to your face, fingertips dancing along your hairline, "you did good, pet."

A contented smile spread on your face at his words, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks; supporting your back, he help you sit up next to him as both of you waited for the guys to bring what was needed.

"Could do it again, sometimes," you said, head resting on his shoulder as his arm enveloped your upper back, supporting your weight.

"Think you could take it?"

"I think we both know the truth about that."

#könig #simon riley #keegan russ #ghost #cod #smut #moni writes #könig smut #könig x reader #ghost x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #callofdutymodernwarfare2 #cdmwii #reader x everyone #codghosts #ghosts

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atticrissfinch · 6 months

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Santa Claus is Coming: An All You Wanna Do Christmas Special 🎅🎄 (dark!joel miller x reader) (18+)

pairing: VERYdark!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When you come home for Christmas Break after your first semester of college, your father throws his annual Christmas party…with none of the than Joel playing Santa Claus. CAUTION: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Unambiguous noncon warning.Warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT] explicit noncon, dark!creeper!neighbor!joel, girthy age gap (Joel is anywhere from 50-60, reader is 18), fetishization of new-adulthood (Joel gets off on reader being 18), reader celebrates Christmas, some angst with dad, underage drinking (reader), panty sniffing, makeshift gag, one (1) ass smack, struggling, unprotected piv, derogatory terms (slut, whore, etc), joel fucks you in a santa costume 🎅 word count: ~4K | ao3a/n: thank you everyone for your support of this series! here's a super cute, fluffy little special for you <3 (disclaimer: that's a joke, this is nowhere near cute or fluffy). again, i do not support SA of any kind in reality, respect people’s preferences, and protect your peace, loves 💖 Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! (sorry about this fucked link formatting??? i'm fistfighting with tumblr over it, trust.)

Your first semester is a slog.

You’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to be. From what everyone else has said, the first couple semesters of college are meant to be exploratory, trying courses on and seeing what fits. And you suppose you did that. You took on a smattering of GenEds and a couple of intro courses for History and English, but dropped Intro to Psych after the first class.

One thing you were definitely not prepared for was analyzing your psychological state in any capacity. When you saw the syllabus, you’d had a minor panic attack and had to escape out the back of the lecture hall and enact one of the breathing exercises you’d adopted to cope since this summer. Since him.

You’ve done your damndest to drown him out. Had a lot of meaningless sex with boys decidedly your age, no more than a year or two older. And you’ve developed a bad habit of switching your brain off the second a man unzips his pants. You let them fuck you, most of them lasting minutes at best, and send them on their way. It doesn’t make practical sense, but you’d come to the conclusion that the more cocks you take, the less impact he has on you. It’s simple fractions, percentages, whatever. He goes from 50% of your past sexual experience to 40% to 30%…You want to dilute him until he’s nothing but a drop in your ocean.

By the time Christmas break comes around, you’ve lost track of your body count. After each encounter, you just ask, “Do I still remember what he feels like inside me?”

And if the answer is yes, and it always is, you're fine with the number rising.

You feel jaded at the age of 18. One semester of college under your belt, countless men under your skirt, and the persistent circles under your eyes that no concealer has ever fully concealed.

Your father is all smiles and hugs when he meets you at the airport, squeezing the breath from your lungs with an emphatic, “I missed you so much, sweetie bird.”

He drives you home, and he is standing on his porch, cup of coffee in hand, leering at your father’s car as it pulls into the drive. The overpriced airport Cinnabon swirls around in your stomach and a tingle starts up between your legs. Not a good one.

“Our beautiful girl’s finally home!” Your dad calls out as he exits the car.

Our. You might actually vomit.

Joel nods with his coffee mug in a small salute, eyes fixed on you. “Sight for sore eyes, darlin’,” He calls back.

You retreat into the house without another word, hauling your bag with you straight through the front door. You throw down your stuff on your bedroom floor, and you can’t stop staring at your bed. You’ve spent thousands of nights in that bed. Thousands of days.

It took one afternoon for him to rob you of the comfort of its springs and sheets. And though those sheets have been changed, the comforter replaced, the position of it moved, that’s still one of the places it happened. But you refuse to think about it now.

Your father calls down for you, probably already prepping the ingredients for Christmas cookies, and you let him fade into the background again.

You pick up a gig as an elf for the local Mall Santa. You don’t love having free time anymore. It gives you too much space to think. It’s something to do in the afternoons and evenings. Your dad lamented the decision, all but begging you to spend your time off with him while you’re home, but you come up with some bullshit excuse about your close friend hitting you up and desperately pleading for your help so she wouldn’t have to deal with all the tiny menaces on their way to see Santa alone. You know your bleeding heart father would never fault you for helping out a friend in need, so he lets it slide. But there’s no friend. Just another stranger in a similar outfit.

However, he is suitably disappointed when you have to work late on the night of his annual Christmas party. You do what you can to help him decorate, prepare refreshments, all that can be done before you have to leave.

“Please try to sneak out early, sweetie bird. Party ain’t the same without you.”

You promise you’ll try as you tug on your green elf tunic over your red and white striped leggings and head out the door.

—

You’re fucking exhausted by the time you’re dismissed for the night, several hours corralling children, lifting them on and off of Santa’s lap, listening to them scream at the top of their lungs and throw tantrums on the fluffy snow-inspired batting surrounding Santa’s throne.

You clamber through the front door, already hearing the shrill, incessant Christmas music on the other side and the hubbub of half the neighborhood inside. You lean back against the wood, take in all the bodies glimmering in red, green, gold, and silver infiltrating your childhood home. You can spy a mass of fuzzy red and white in the living room, and you have the urge to bang your head against the wall at the sight of another Santa.

You’re surprised your father was able to find a replacement. Last you’d heard, Mr. Grenning, the dutiful elderly gentleman who had played Santa at every single one of your father’s parties as far back as you can remember, had passed away this Fall. He was hunting to find someone else to fulfill the role. You’re happy that he was able to find someone. You know he’d never be able to forgive himself if he’d gone one whole year without a Santa.

You continue to scan the party, searching for any sign of greying brown curls, salt and pepper scruff, or a potbelly. You’re relieved when none of those qualifiers manifest in the person you’re dreading. Maybe he found other plans.

“Hey, my little elf!” Your father bellows, holding his arm out for you as he enters the foyer and pulling you into a hug. “Glad you could make it. You almost missed Santa!”

“‘M too old for Santa, dad,” You mumble, pressed into his chest. “I really just wanna go lie down.”

“But you always sit on Santa’s lap! It’s so cute!”

“I’m in college, dad! I cannot sit on an old man’s lap anymore without it being fucking weird!”

“Hey, language, sweetie,” He admonishes with drawn brows. “And no one will think it’s weird! It’s just a little fun. And you love Joel!”

Your head whips to look at your dad. “Joel?”

“Yeah, Joel, weirdo. You know I was scramblin’ to find someone after Doug passed away, rest in peace,” He says, quickly forming the points of the cross on his person. “And Joel was so generous, said he might as well use his old age for good,” He chuckles.

You feel like the room shifts, warps in your periphery as your eyes fixate on the blob of red and white in the other room, a child perched on his lap looking bashful and nervous, and a gloved finger booping her tiny nose.

You want to scream at her to run. As far away as she can.

“Go on, I think she’s the last one,” Your dad nudges you forward. “For me? Please? And then I’ll never make you do it again. Just one last time.”

His eyes look so sad, glimmering with the past 18 years you’ve had together, most of them just the two of you against the world. And you can’t hold his ignorance against him. He would have no way of knowing what Joel has done to you. This is your burden to bear. You never want to see hurt in this man’s eyes.

So you tread forward on leaden feet.

The moment Joel sees you, his eyes flicker. The corner of his mouth turns up underneath that synthetic beard, and he mutters a dismissal to the small girl on his lap as she slides off.

“Well, would ya look-y here. Seems one of Santa’s little helpers hitched a ride from the North Pole.”

A couple dozen heads turn in your direction, and light laughter fills the air at Joel’s remark, several of your neighbors giving you little side hugs and shoulder pats in greeting, welcoming you home for the holiday with glistening smiles.

Joel’s eyes don’t leave yours as he holds out a gloved hand. “Why don’t you come on up onto Santa’s lap. Even elves deserve presents, right?”

“Right!” A tiny voice calls from somewhere on your right, somebody’s child filled with that pure Christmas spirit that you feel severely lacking in this year.

You swallow and inch forward, almost flinching as you take his hand and try to get away with just slightly leaning your ass back against the tip of his knee in lieu of actually sitting on him. But his determined hands grip your hips and pull you up until you’re straddling his leg and pressed up against his back and…

Fuck.

You can feel him.

Even through the gaudy red trousers, even through the bulk of his fuzzy coat. You feel it on your asscheek through your leggings.

He’s already hard.

You swallow again at the nausea circling in your belly, doing your best to hide the horror on your face. The way your hands start to shake at his fingers on your hips.

“What do you want for Christmas, little girl?”

Your lower lip trembles the barest amount, but you clear your throat. “Uh…money for Elf College maybe?” You awkwardly say in a half-hearted attempt at a joke, and the adults in the room all give courteous laughs.

They look like caricatures. Their features morphing on their faces, their minds so fucking oblivious to the silent screaming behind your eyes.

And then there’s Joel’s laugh. It sounds…pitying. And entirely too close to your ear. Too close to your face. And that wretched fucking smell hits you in the face, like it always does. Stale beer. Pine soap. Sweat.

You try to slide forward, but his hands hold fast.

“Santa’s got a special present in his big sack for you, sweetheart,” He mutters low in your ear. “Bet you can already feel what it is through the wrappin’.”

You glance around frantically, and no one seems to indicate that anything is amiss.

You clear your throat again and all but throw yourself off his lap with a mumbled, “Thank you, Santa,” and hurry off into the crowd of people, not looking back to see his reaction.

You find yourself in the kitchen, clutching at the edge of the counter in front of the punch bowl, trying to level out your breathing.

“Thanks for doin’ that for me, sweetie,” You hear your dad say as he loops an arm around your shoulder, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “You know it’s gettin’ harder on me. You gettin’ older. Kinda feels like you’re slippin’ through my fingers. Like I’m tryin’ to grip sand.”

You nod, eyes fixed on the lemon slices swirling in the scarlet punch.

“I know you miss your mom, sweetie bird. I miss her too. But I’m still here. And I don’t wanna lose you along with her.”

Your eyes close as you take a deep breath before looking up at him. This man who has done nothing but love you, care for you, show you exactly how a man should be. And a man who, simultaneously, is so oblivious to your own suffering.

That’s your own fault. Not his, you remind yourself.

“You won’t lose me, dad. May not be able to grip the sand, but you can never seem to get rid of every last bit of it, right? Always some grains sticking around.”

“Reckon you’re right,” He agrees with a broad smile, planting a kiss on your head and leaving you be to pour yourself a drink. Before he exits the kitchen, he holds a finger up at you and insists, “Just punch, sweetie bird. I don’t know what you’ve been gettin’ up to at that school, but you drink punch in this house.”

You roll your eyes and ladle out the beverage into your festive green solo cup. Your eyes catch on the bottle of vodka nestled against the backsplash. You check the doorway, and it’s clear.

“Just punch” isn’t gonna do shit for you tonight.

You’ve already twisted the cap back onto the bottle and slipped out the sliding door to the back patio by the time someone else meanders into the kitchen.

It’s chilly, but not aggressively so. Your long, striped sleeves do a decent job stemming the cold as you nurse your spiked punch and rest your forearms against the wooden patio railing, staring up at the overcast winter gloom, only a few stars peeking out.

The phantom press of Joel’s cock against your ass has you sipping faster, and your heavy pour has your brain beginning to feel about as cloudy as the sky. You’re tapping out the dregs into your mouth until you come up dry, sighing down into the empty cup.

There are a few more people milling about the kitchen as you toss the cup in the trash and make your way through the living room, no red-and-white abomination plaguing the space any longer, and you’re hopeful that Joel just went the fuck home to change.

You hobble up the stairs and reach your room, pushing the door open and flinging it closed behind you.

And you freeze.

Leaning against your long, white, daisy-adorned dresser in all his fuzzy red-with-white-trim rancor, the dirty panties you’d tossed in the hamper yesterday pressed to his nose with a gloved hand, his scraggly fake beard tucked under his chin.

And his other white silken-encased hand jacking at his thick, veiny cock hanging out of the red velvet waistband of his pants.

Your materialization into your own room doesn’t seem to phase him, other than his attention snapping over to you, staring into your eyes as he inhales your concentrated scent and jacks at his girth.

Your hand searches behind you blindly for your doorknob, until he rings out a threatening, “Don’t.”

Your hand shakes as you finally wrap around the brass, and he throws himself toward you, caging you in against the unforgiving surface of the door. His hand snakes around your wrist and tightens more and more until you release the handle with a defeated whimper. You hear him click the lock before bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek.

“‘S’matter, sweetheart? Ain’t happy to see Santa? You been that naughty?”

“Please let me go, Joel. Please don’t do this again,” You whisper mousily, dread dropping like an anvil in your stomach.

“Smell so good, sweetheart,” He croons, bringing your own used undergarments up to your nose. “Sniff ‘em. Get a good whiff of what you did to these slutty panties while you were thinkin’ of me.”

You wrinkle your nose, turning away from the tang of your dried fluids. “Wasn’t thinking about you. I never fucking think about you. I stopped believing in Santa a long fucking time ago, old man.”

“Now I know that’s a fuckin’ lie. You think about me every goddamn day of your life. And I made damn sure’a that,” Joel growls out, his free hand gliding down your arm until he’s cradling the back of your hand. He guides you slowly toward his crotch, and you whimper as he uses his own fingers to curl yours around his hard cock.

You’ve never felt it in your hand like this. How fucking huge he is. And he’s forced this thing inside you twice. You feel your core throb involuntarily at the swell of a cock in your hand from your extensive experiences with it this past semester, regardless of who’s attached to it.

“Stroke it, sweetheart. Show me how much you missed me,” He spills into your ear. His hand on yours starts to move up and down his length, and you feel him slide warm and thick under your palm. He groans loudly in your ear as you allow his actions to become yours, letting out a small sob.

“I’ll scream,” You warn, your eyes falling closed and your head falling against the door, tears gliding off your eyelashes and down your cheeks.

“No you won’t,” He patronizes, his hips gradually thrusting into your shared grip.

“Yes, I will,” You whisper unsteadily.

“You scream,” He starts, the tip of his nose skimming the shell of your ear, little grunts and moans intermingling with his words as he speaks, “And I might just find myself on your campus one day. Pick my way into your little dorm room. And you know what I’d really love to do?”

You just push out another sob as the head of his cock repeatedly brushes your cotton leggings with his precome.

“I think I’ll shove your cute little face into your little twin-sized bed and fuck your puckered little asshole. Whaddya think about that?”

Ice-cold dread shoots through you at him threatening you with that, just like he had last time. The fact that he has never been near you on campus has given you at least a modicum of solace that he’s not anywhere near you. That he can’t get you there. You can’t fathom the reality of having to worry about him tracking you down. Of him taking one of the only safe places you have left. And the only unsullied hole you have left.

“Please don’t,” You sniffle, “I can’t…”

“Then you’ll stay fuckin’ quiet, won’t you?”

You nod against the door, flexing your hand around his cock and making him let out a raspy moan. “Turn around.”

He allows you to drop your hold around his cock as he rotates you. You press both palms into the door, willing someone to hear your unvoiced pleas as Joel tugs back on your hips to bend you over more for him.

But you know no one ever goes upstairs at these parties with your father’s strict instructions against it. Not unless the bathroom is full.

You’re alone. Again.

Meaty fingers dive under your tunic and tuck into the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down unceremoniously and pulling a moan from Joel when he sees your ass jiggle with the sharp movement.

“Goddamn. Missed this young little ass,” He comments with a heavy smack to your ass, jolting you forward.

Joel doesn’t waste much time, clearly cognizant of the hoard of people just down the stairs. The familiar heft of his cock slips along your folds and hitches on your entrance, and you barely have time to brace yourself before he’s shoving his way inside you.

You accidentally let out a yelp and Joel slaps a gargantuan gloved hand over your mouth, crowding the top half of you into the door, the tendrils of his fake beard tickling at your neck. “Shut the fuck up,” He growls, already withdrawing his hips to fuck back into your increasing wetness. “Love to hear your voice any other time, but you shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for ya.”

You nod in his grip, feeling your hot breath sink wetly into the silky glove, but his hand stays put as he begins to thrust into you in earnest, doing a pisspoor job of silencing his own grunts in the process.

You wistfully hope that someone hears the brutish noises escaping him as he violates you again and again and again. And your pussy takes it, like it’s growing accustomed to it. Hot rivulets flow from your eyes, mingling with the snot that’s pooling, sinking into the fibers enrobing his hand as he muffles your sounds.

“Gettin’ used to it now, ain’t ya?” He chuckles darkly in your ear, his hips snapping against your ass as he keeps feeding you his massive length against your will, the soft material of his garb rubbing unsettlingly against the backs of your thighs and your back. “Knew ya would. Your little pussy recognizes me, don’t she?”

He’s right, but you wish he wouldn’t say it. Your pussy does seem to have a memory. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be bringing a new man into your bed every other night, hoping to forget. And yet, it still opened right up for him when he pressed up against you. You’re being betrayed by your own body again, and the desire to withdraw from your own skin only escalates with each thrust of his cock inside you.

“Yeah, I know she likes it,” He insists, sliding a hand down to caress the stretch of your entrance around his shaft. “Don’t get cock like this up at that fancy school of yours, that’s for fuckin’ sure.”

You sob into his hand, and he curses, releasing your mouth for a moment until you feel a wad of cotton fabric at your lips, being shoved between your teeth as a gag.

“Taste that whore cunt while you take my cock, sweetheart,” He orders, and it registers that he just gagged you with your used panties. You keen against the rapidly soaking underwear and both of his hands bruise at your hips, holding you steady for the unrelenting pound of his cock.

You practically scream around the fabric, woefully lost to the world as it’s drowned out by the din of conversation and the eerie, sickly cheerful jubilee of Santa Claus is Coming to Town blaring on the speakers downstairs.

“You hear that, darlin’?” He grunts out with a hint of a laugh. “Even the music knows what’s ’bout to happen. Santa’s comin’, baby. Fuck, I’m—” He grunts as he wrenches himself out of you just in time, tilting the head of his cock down to shoot his load into the gusset of the panties still situated halfway down your thighs.

You whine against your gag, tormented by the grating song suddenly overwhelming your ears along with Joel’s grunts of release. He pants against your skin, propping himself with a hand against the door, slapping his spent cock against the exposed small of your back.

“Still tight as the first time,” He compliments you in a sick attempt at praise. “Must not be takin’ much dick up there after all. ‘Least not as big as me,” He brags with a laugh.

He tugs up your leggings and panties in one go, and a tiny squeak sounds from your throat as you feel the cool, slimy evidence of his orgasm smush up into your core. His hand slides around your waist to sneak between your legs and rub his fingers against the seat of your panties through your leggings, feeling the proof of his conquest seep through the landscape of your fucked pussy.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. That ain’t gonna knock you up,” He assures, massaging your cum-slick lips with his fingers and pinching your clit through your clothes. “Wouldn’t wanna stretch out that tight young cunt by pushin’ out my baby. Nah, just want you to have a little reminder of me.”

Another wave of nausea hits you at the cold, wet slip of his semen in your folds, and you have to breathe in and out through your nose in measured intervals with the panty-gag still in place. You don’t know why you haven’t spit it out quite yet.

“Thanks for bein’ Santa’s Little Helper this year, darlin’,” He coos in your ear as he starts to strip himself out of his costume.

You’re frozen against the door as you hear him unzip a bag and rifle through it, followed by rustling and minor grunts. After several minutes, you feel his hand at your lower back, and the red and white of his silhouette has been replaced by denim and a green flannel.

Joel’s grip nudges you back from the safety of the door so he can grab the knob himself this time, a black duffle bag slung over his back. You stumble backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you sink down.

Joel pokes his head out to check if the coast is clear, and then glances back at you over his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” He says with a wink, and slips out of your room, securing the door closed after him.

RE: TAGLIST - I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #katy wroted fic #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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cevherien · 1 month

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Abby Anderson.

Fucking you on her motorcycle ☺️

tags: no need to sugarcoat anything she eats you out on her motorbike, semi public sex, she's kinda rough with it, dom/sub undertones.

You were riding on Abby's motorbike, been so needy lately but she was a busy woman, so you weren't able to play around as you'd like. You had missed her touch, the way her muscles would flex when she had her strong hold on your flesh. But now you were alone, well on the road, no less. Your tits behind the flimsy material of the shirt you were wearing pressed against her back as you hold onto her.

Arms wrapped around her lower belly, playing dangerous but it was worth it, traffic safety be damned you were fucking dripping for this woman, head too fuzzy for consequences.

She was taking you to a friends house or whatever, you weren't listening when she told you that, instead you were busy grinding yourself on the seat of the bike like a pathetic little slut, but you pay no mind to such labels anymore. I mean if the shoe fits.

But you weren't completely stupid, obviously, so you wait like a good girl for a red light to strike, your hand drawing closer to her parted thighs once she stops the ride you are onto her.

"Abby-" delicate fingers playing with the material of her pants, near her inner thighs earning a surprised gasp from her. And as if taking that as your cue you press against her further and cup her clothed pussy.

She involuntarily drops her head back, with a heavy whine she spells out "What are you doing-?"

"You know exactly what," you apply pressure with two fingers on where you know her clit to be under those layers.

"Are you out of your mind-" her hips rise a little to gain more friction from your palm involuntarily, you take your hand away just to be a little shit. Making her groan at the lost.

"Maybe i am," but before you can do much else the green light is on and your time is up. She pushes on the engine and you almost fall back with the momentum, barely finding the time to hold back to her. "Whoa- hey- hey" maybe she was the crazy one.

Now you weren't the only one playing said dangerous game, her's were deadly though, nowhere near close to your little teases of cat and mouse. You realize she's changed routes, and her grasp on the handlebar lever a little too strong for the speed limit.

"Wait where are we even-" she cuts you before you can finish.

"We will play what you want, how you want bunny."

Abby pulls near a back alley, without telling you anything she spins you around and you brace yourself against the stone wall of the shady corner, only support being her motorcycle.

"Acting like a cheap whore will only get you so far you know," she gives a little slap at your butt, so rudely "Good thing i'm here, yeah?"

Goddamn, seeing her mean like this was something new, but fuck was it a welcome surprise. You whine then, she presses you further into the wall with your cheeks squashed and her hand on your ass.

Abby's next move was simple, pulling your pants down together with your underwear, bunching at your bent knees, leaving you open on display. The cold air of both the alley and reality of being bare in public, well, semi public but still, was making you drip down hard.

Abby kneels down, presses her face to your cunt, laps at your slick as if honey, only getting you wetter. Eating pussy from behind felt dirtier, cheap.

She spreads your lips to lick deeper into your wet hole, teething on your slick pearly clit. Kissing your puffy lips and playing on your rim, she knew how you liked it best.

Well she also knew she had to keep it short, unfortunately. If it was up to her she'd keep you open on display like this and lick you clean until you were out of it and spent, but alas, you were getting your ass ate in a back alley for fucks sake.

Her tongue continue it's magic for some more, enough to get you off for two times, your hole leaking down like some fountain of youth.

But before giving you the pleasure of a third orgasm she pulls back, slaps your pussy from the back and pulls your pants back up. A needy whine slips your lips while you move your hips together to feel better. That was not enough.

As if reading your mind, "Look at the mess," trust she was no different under those clothes, "We'll continue later baby, when we get back."

Yeah and when you do get back, she'd split you apart with her eight inch strap, well lubed up and well pampered until you can't remember ever feeling so needy.

#need her viscerally #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby anderson smut #lesbian #abby the last of us #abby tlou #cece writes ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧#cevherudite

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httpswritings · 5 months

Text

Lucid Dream — Katie McCabe x Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 388

Summary: Katie's dreaming about you every night.

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote about Katie so I quickly wrote this ficlet <3

*Lucid dream: A dream where you're aware of being dreaming.

Katie's never had trouble sleeping. She would go to bed early and wake up before the sun had risen. This has changed since she started dreaming about you. It started very subtle, with you appearing in her dreams just a few times a month, but, for a couple of weeks, she had been dreaming about you every night.

She was curious about you, as if you had drowned her in a vicious cycle of sleeping, dreaming about you, and then waking up with you nowhere to be found in the real world. She even tried to take some naps during her free time but failed, as that only made her more nervous.

The first time she had a lucid dream, she didn't know those could ever happen, even less to her. As she realized she was dreaming, she freaked out. Feeling on a new level of consciousness, she put all her intention on waking up, so she did, breathing heavily and sweat covering her neck.

As she did some research, she started to lose her fear of being conscious while dreaming, and she decided to use it to her own advantage to find out more about you. Who were you? Why were you appearing in her dreams every day? Did both of you know each other in the real world? Did you even exist?

One day, after she had fallen asleep, the dream began. She saw you near a fountain, reading. As you noticed here, you closed the book and approached her. Katie was delighted by your beauty. Your eyes captivated hers. Your timid smile made her feel secure. “We need to talk”, she said, and you nodded. She felt happy about your willingness to talk to her, but she realized it was all her. She was the one who was deciding everything that was going to happen in her dream, including your actions.

“Who are you?” You laughed. “I'm the one who's keeping you interested.” She paused for a second, as if she were examining you. “Why are you here? In my dream, I mean. Why do I dream about you every single night?“ To her, you were another human being, not just an imaginary image. “I'm here because of you. You keep thinking about me, so I always come back to you when you sleep.”

She sighed. Everything was so simple but complex at the same time. “Are you even real?” You got closer to her as you softly caressed her cheek, looking tenderly into her eyes. “Katie, you know the answer. You just don't want to accept it. This is your dream, the one coming from your mind."

The truth is that Katie had been catching some feelings for you as she kept dreaming about you. She was not in love, was she? How could she? She couldn't be in love with someone she had never touched or had never seen in reality. But she refused to end whatever this experience was, trapping herself between the real world and her imagination, looking for love in someone who was nobody but herself.

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

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agust28 · 4 months

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Doubts

pairing leehan x reader WC 1918 Tags angst and fluff. everybody lived happily ever after no worries. such a drama queen (just like me 😭🙏) Notes can you tell i gave up at the end? i haven't slept in over 24 hours :D i feel like a zombie also i still haven't figured out the request button ugh MISTAKES EVERYWHERE SORRY

It was a cold and windy night as you sat on the bottom of the slide. The reason for you being out in such temperature with only a light sweatshirt and sweat was due to a huge fight with your boyfriend, Leehan. You two had been planning a small, simple date to catch up since there hadn’t been much communication between the two of you due to hectic schedules. You reminded him multiple times throughout the week, and each time he would reply, saying, 'I know, don't worry.' It wasn't easy to take time off from your job, especially during the weekend, so it was valid for you to be worried about making sure you both were on the same page.

Then comes the day of the date. You had woken up early, anticipating a message from Leehan, but no luck. You brushed it off, thinking he was just sleeping in. Two hours passed, and still nothing from him. It was nearing the time of your date, and you were already at the cafe you both decided to meet up at. You were starting to feel anxious, worrying if something had happened to him, and he wasn't just ditching you because he forgot. You sent numerous text messages asking where he was, hoping he'd reply. You gave up and decided to call him instead.

Your worry seemed to grow each time you got sent to voicemail and resorted to calling one of his members, hoping they had an answer about his whereabouts. You stumbled upon Sungho's contact first and waited for him to answer.

“Hello?” he's confused as to why you're calling since it's a rare occurrence.

“Sungho! I keep trying to reach Leehan, but he's not answering! Are you with him?”

“Uh, yeah, he's down in the cafeteria.” He's confused as to why you sound so worried and why Leehan hasn't responded to you. Your heart immediately plummets. He actually forgot your date.

“Y/n? You there?” Sungho's question brings you back to reality.

“Do you want me to get Leehan-” you cut him off. “No, it's alright!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, can you not mention any of this to Leehan? Please.” He ponders about whether or not he should obey your request or inform his friend.

“Please, Sungho? It's nothing to worry about; I was just a bit anxious.” Sungho sighs. “…Okay, I won't, but promise to fix whatever's going on between you two?” You let out a sigh of relief. “I will, don't worry.” You exchange goodbyes before hanging up. You stand outside the cafe just a little longer, thinking maybe this was all just some silly prank and your boyfriend is actually on his way. But you knew it wasn't, so you head home.

It's a few hours after the date gone wrong when Leehan shows up at your place. He enters your apartment thanks to the spare key you gave him a while back. He searches the living room looking for you to be lounging on the sofa or reading a book, but you're nowhere to be found. Leehan calls out for you, thinking you're probably in bed since it was late. And he was right because he enters your room and sees you cozied up under the sheets with your phone in hand.

“There you are! I called out for you.” You simply glance and go back to scrolling on TikTok, scoffing under your breath. You can't believe he had the audacity to come over after ditching you and ignoring all your attempts to contact him.

“Hello? Are you ignoring me?” he teases as he waves his hands trying to get your attention.

“What?” you ask aggravated, watching him laugh. As if there was anything to laugh about right now! His smile is immediately replaced with a frown. “Did I do something wrong?” his brows furrowed, trying to think what he could have done.

“Do you seriously not remember?” Your emotions are hitting all at once, and before you know it, there are tears running down your face. “I can't believe it,” you mutter and push past him. “What? Why are you crying? What's wrong?” he's panicking, trying to figure out what he's done to make you cry.

Before you can make it to the front door, he catches your wrist, and his heart clenches at the sight of your tears. You attempt to look down and rid your tears, but it's no use. “Our date? The one we've been planning for a whole week? The one I kept reminding you about!” you burst out in anger and sadness. His eyes immediately widen in realization.

“I can't believe you forgot! I tried calling you and texting you! You never answered! I was so worried something had happened, so I called Sungho just so he could tell me you were with him the entire time!” Sungho talked to you? And didn't even tell him?

“Do you know how embarrassing it was for people to come up and ask for a chair, and for me to say, ‘No sorry, it's for my boyfriend,’ just for my boyfriend not to show up!” he's trying to process everything and get some words out, but you immediately snatch your wrist back and try to make a run, but he throws himself between you and the door.

“Wait! Please let me explain!”

“No! Move!” you try shoving him, but no success. “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, please just wait!” You let out a frustrated cry, attempting one more time to shove him before giving up and turning your back to him. While you have your back turned, Leehan pulls out his phone with shaking hands, wondering why he wasn't aware of your calls. The blood drains from his face when he realizes his phone had been on DND. He turns it off, and instantly, all your notifications appear on his screen. He understands now why he didn't receive a good morning text like normal. He brushed it off, thinking you had a busy schedule and eventually forgot all about you. Instead, he immersed himself in his work, not bothering to check his phone at all. Until now.

By now, you've moved to the couch, head hung low, and shoulders shaking. Clear indication you're still crying over all this. He rushes to your side and tries to call out for you, hoping you'd give him a chance to explain, but you just shake your head no. You two sit there in silence, your sobs now subsided. He desperately wants to fix this but thinks you should speak first. That is if you even want to speak to him. He thinks maybe he should say something when you announce that you need space.

“Okay, I'll leave-” you cut him off. “No, I'm leaving. I- I need air.”

“Now? It's way too late for you! I'll leave; you stay,” he starts walking towards the door when you rush past him and make your way outside. “No, Leehan, I'm leaving!” you don't even give him a chance to explain before quickly disappearing.

You end up in a park late at night, slight regret seeping in due to the cold weather and eerie silence. But honestly, you're too consumed with your thoughts to really care. After gathering your thoughts, you realize now you may have overdone it with the dramatics and giving him no chance to explain. But it'd been so long since the two had an actual date and talked to each other other than the daily good mornings and 'have you eaten' messages. You were starting to get worried that the two of you were drifting apart, and sooner or later, Leehan would come to the conclusion that you guys were better off as friends than lovers.

Still in your thoughts, you fail to notice the footsteps coming your way. After you stormed off, Leehan mentally smacked himself for letting you leave in the cold late night and sprung into action. He got himself a blanket and beanies before bolting out the door. It took at least 10 minutes before he considered calling the police to start a search party for you when he spotted a familiar figure sitting all alone. He lets out a sigh of relief and rushes towards you.

“Hey,” a deep voice startles you, and you instantly get up, ready to make another run for it when you register that it was actually your boyfriend. You sit back down and turn your body away from him.

“You found me,” he hums and asks if he could sit. You shrug, which he takes as a yes, and drapes the blanket over you. You let him because honestly, you were two seconds away from becoming a statue. You're internally scolding yourself for leaving in such flimsy clothing when he speaks.

“I'm so sorry for forgetting our date. I promise I didn't ignore you on purpose. My phone was on DND, and I didn't notice, I swear. I wondered why I didn't get a good morning text from you, but I brushed it off thinking work was holding you up. I didn't want to bother you, so I let it go and eventually forgot all about it once I was called to the studio. I haven't checked my phone all day, I swear!” He glances over to you, wanting your reaction, but you're still turned around.

“I- I'm sorry; I know none of that excuses me missing our date, but I just want you to know I didn't ignore you on purpose. I love you; I would never do that,” his voice turns into a whisper towards the end due to the built-up emotions he didn't know he had. “Y/n, say something, please,” he begs with tears starting to form.

You try to stand your ground and toughen up, but your body betrays you, and before you know it, you're sobbing again. Leehan rushes to wrap his arms around you, and you let him because it feels like it's been eternity since you've held each other. You end up on his lap with the blanket wrapped around you both and his hands running through your hair to calm your sobs.

“You wanna talk about it?” he breaks the silence, and you want to shake your head no, but you know you can't avoid this forever. This time you break the silence and get out everything that's been bottling up inside of you. He stares at you dumbfounded, wondering how long you had been holding that in. Guilt fills his mind just imagining you having doubts about your relationship. He internally scolds himself for not noticing any of this sooner. Tears start to form again as you take in his dumbfounded face for something else.

“Oh no! You really are gonna break up with me, aren't you!” that brings him back to you and rushes to deny such a horrible claim.

“No, we are not breaking up! Stop thinking that.” he continues to soothe you before a gust of wind reminds him that they are still outside in the freezing cold.

“Let's go inside and talk about this,” he gently whispers and gets up carrying you back home. Once you're settled inside and warmed up, you discuss all the doubts and worries about your relationship while Leehan reassures you that nothing will break you apart. Although it'll take a while to get your relationship back to how it was before, it's all worth it if you have each other.

#boynextdoor sungho #boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun #taesan x reader #taesan #leehan x reader #leehan #riwoo x reader #riwoo #woonhak x reader #woonhak #onedoor #agust28 #sungho x reader

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eaterofman · 5 months

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I <3 You!: Serial Killer Yandere x Detective Reader

This was your chance to shine, to finally rise up in the pecking order... but have you bitten off more than you could chew?

The answer is yes, yes you have.

CW: Murder, Stalking, Obsession, Violence NOT directed towards reader, Manipulation, Mild gore/grossness towards the end

A/N: I have learned how to make aesthetic moodboards like the cool blogs. I am unstoppable.

Of course you took the case, why wouldn't you?

You were sick of being at the bottom of the food chain, forced to run meaningless errands and getting stuck with the paperwork for the rest of the division.

This was your big break. Finally an opportunity to prove your worth.

How hard could it be?

He knew you were watching him.. or at least, watching the aftermath of him.

And what a beautiful aftermath it was, specially tailored, just for you.

He hadn't known who you were before all this. He'd even been insulted at first when he learned the detective on his case was some nobody that'd been tossed on his kills like a stray dog being offered a bone.

He really had been planning on making you his next target, spitting on the face of the department that decided that he was so unimportant that his work was only deserving of an amateur. He'd show them what happens when he's underestimated-

...but you'd thrown yourself onto his case with a diligence he wasn't quite prepared for. You were taking him seriously, treating the lowlifes he brutalized as important as the rich bastards the rest of your department was worried about.

It was cute.

Despite your efforts, you were nowhere near discovering who he was. He wouldn't let you, at least, not until the time was right.

No, he would make you great, just as you would make him known, and then and only then, would he reveal himself to you. The two of you were so intricately connected after all, both of you unknown to the world around you.

By hell or high water, the city would know the both of you. He'd make sure of it.

You wearily rested your head on your desk, pressing your face into the wood as your eyes blinked in and out of reality.

You were tired.

You wouldn't admit it to your colleagues, you refused to show weakness. You knew what happened when sharks smelled blood in the water. Showing them, that after all these years of being relegated to coffee running and borderline secretarial duties, that you couldn't handle the first case you'd been trusted with?

No, you wouldn't let yourself be thrown back to the bottom again. You were going to prove your worth to the team.

But the disappearances weren't disappearances anymore. They were clear murders at this point, and they were escalating.

What had started as simple disappearances with no confirmed body had evolved into... statements, for lack of a better word. Brutalized bodies proudly displayed in a clear mockery of your efforts.

The killer was getting bold.

It seemed at first as though they were getting sloppy as well, a few times you had stumbled across a victim that had obviously been alive just a few moments before you'd gotten to them, blood still fresh and their eyes still hauntingly gleaming at you.

No, the killer wasn't getting sloppy. You weren't any closer to finding them then you were a year ago.

This was intentional. They wanted you to see it. Despite their brutality, they were careful, never leaving any trace of themselves behind.

The case had escalated to the point where the rest of your division had to acknowledge it. At first, your colleagues simply hadn't cared about a few disappearances of the city's less respected residents. It was practically a joke when they assigned you the missing persons case, like a wild goose chase you couldn't possibly in.

Despite this, you'd put your all into the case. Even if your colleagues didn't care about the occasional missing prostitute or tourist, you did. They were still people, even if they didn't make headlines.

Your division still didn't actually care about the people when they assigned a more advanced detective to your case. No, they cared about their reputation. A serial killer on the loose did not bode well for their public appearance.

You were happy that attention was now being directed towards what you'd known to be a problem since the beginning... but it was too little too late in your opinion. It wouldn't change the fact that lives were lost because you lacked funds and access to necessary equipment and time.

As your eyes drifted shut, you figured that even if this new detective took over your case completely, it'd be okay as long as the killer was stopped.

You didn't need to known, after all, you just needed to protect your city.

That was enough for you.

White hot anger broiled in his chest, threatening to explode as he paced his hotel room.

There was another man with you, another detective.

No, not a detective, a piece of trash that didn't recognize how important the two of you were.

The piece of shit thought he was better than you, than him.

After all the effort and work he had put into gaining notoriety, the fucking pigs had stepped in, placed an intruder between the two of you. Worse yet, an intruder who would surely take all the credit from you.

He wouldn't allow it.

As he eyed the two of you investigating the display he'd arranged for you from his vantage point, watching you be forced into the role of a sidekick, he played with the knife in his hands.

This would be his best work yet.

Just as you had feared, you'd been relegated to side work once your more senior colleague stepped in.

At least you hadn't been completely removed from the case, you supposed, but it had still been a bitter pill to swallow. You'd worked so hard, only to be pushed aside and undermined once again.

You wouldn't have even minded as much, if he'd at the very least listen to what you had to say.

Instead, you'd gotten lectured like a small child, chastised for not solving such a simple case.

You chewed on the words as you walked, coffee in your hands from yet another chore you'd been forced into running.

The bastard had even made you pay for it.

"Forgot your wallet my fucking ass..." you mutter to yourself as you stomp up the stairs to the small office your superior had claimed for the investigation.

Or at least, his part of the investigation. You typically weren't allowed to "cramp up his space" while he "worked". You were used to getting kicked out into the general shared office space to work on the additional paperwork he deemed himself too important to touch.

You knock on the door, hoping to not have to struggle to open it with your hands full of hot coffee.

But there's no answer.

Of course there isn't, god forbid he actually gets up off his ass and helps you for once.

You roll your eyes and go to reach for the doorknob... only for the door to crack open on its own. Huh.

You shrug, turning to hip bump the door open the rest of the way. Easier for you, you supp-

You're snapped out of your thoughts when you step in something... wet. Back still turned, you jump in surprise at the unpleasant sound of wet carpet smooshing up against your shoe.

"Ew, what th-"

You stop mid sentence, now facing the inside of the room. You drop the cups your holding in your hand, barely registering as the brown liquid mixes with the now deep red carpet.

There's blood everywhere.

Soaked into the carpet, splattered onto the walls, dripping from the desk your colleague is sitting at.

Or what remains of your colleague, at least.

Most of what was once him is now covering the small office space, you feel bile rising in your throat.

Even in your shock, it's hard not to notice the oddly pristine, brightly colored paper in the space where your superior's face used to be.

You refuse to step into the room to get any closer to it, survival instincts howling at you to not getting any closer.

But you don't need to, you can clearly make out the almost childishly placed paper cutout letters on the paper.

You feel your stomach contents finally leave your body, mixing with the other fluids on the ground.

The message of "I <3 You" mocks you from the other side of the room as you scream, falling backwards as your mind tries to process what you're seeing.

The killer was just here, had to have been you were only gone for twenty minutes at most and-

-and he knows you, you realize with dread.

You scream.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #reader insert #killer yandere #yandere #male yandere

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maximotts · 2 years

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𝔡𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱 ☾ 𝔴. 𝔪𝔞𝔵𝔦𝔪𝔬𝔣𝔣

pairing ❦ sorority!Wanda Maximoff x sorority!reader

summary ❦ it's Halloween horror movie night at your sorority and your best friend, Wanda, is more than a bit squeamish; but funnily enough, it's not the movies she's worried about

warnings ❦ smut, 18+ only content; bottom!Wanda; lap sits because they seem to be a running theme in your requests this year; thigh riding; handsy cuddling; soft kisses because Wanda deserves them; copious pet names; humiliation; not really degradation, but Wanda gets talked down to playfully; clothed sex; public sex, but like.. in secret

words ❦ 3.4k

a/n ❦ yeaaaah this fic is late, but motivation to finish my Kinktober requests has been low so uhhh I hope you like lil baby sorority Wanda, I sure do

kinktober masterlist.

“Hey, guess what?”

Wanda turned her head, searching mirthful eyes for a clue. “What’s up?”

“If you’re a baby then you’re my baby.” Her cheeks bloomed tomato red, Wanda suddenly grateful for the pitch dark room. You couldn’t see the color, but you could feel the heat on your shoulder through your t-shirt as she hid her face in your chest.

“Shut up, don’t say that.”

Wanda only joined the sorority because of you. She was shy and reserved, so opposite of your outgoing nature that when she ran up to you on rush week, declaring her pledge to the same group you’d been planning to your whole freshman year, you were shocked. Pleasantly so; the one downside to Greek Life was the reality of spending less time with your best friend. Wanda didn’t like it either, the idea of a huge group of girls she didn’t know occupying your attention with her nowhere around nearly kept her up at night. So she decided to join alongside you, simple fix.

She’d gotten in with no problem; quiet as Wanda was, she was so easily beloved it’d been easy to win over the council with her addictive laugh and sweet demeanor. Still, it was clear to anyone that saw the two of you together that Wanda only got in to be with you; Wanda being assigned your roommate in the house wasn’t a coincidence. The girl was at your side constantly, had been since she and her brother first transferred to your high school and you’d offered the twins a spot at your lunch table.

You didn’t mind; Wanda was cute, fun, and all around a supportive friend. There wasn’t a dull time to be had with her around, which is why you wanted her to hang out with you now. “It’s just one little movie marathon, Wands. It’s not that bad.”

Wanda was still hovering at the entrance to the expansive living room, lights dim as the other girls found their spots and decided what film to watch first. The Halloween movie night was a long upheld sorority tradition, a fun start to the month of October— too bad Wanda had always been too jumpy for the ones on their lineup. “It’s a horror movie marathon…”

“I don’t want you to be upstairs all by yourself on a Friday night, that’s sad.” Wanda didn’t budge, not even when you grabbed her arms and gave them a playful tug. “Come on, I’ll let you sit with me! And you don’t have to watch anything you don’t want to. I’ve got our favorite blanket?”

“I’ve got our favorite blanket!” Natasha brushed past you both, mocking your encouragement as she carried popcorn in for the group. She was something like friends with Wanda, but nowhere near as patient with her clingy nature, poking fun at it more than anything.

About a month ago, Wanda drunkenly confessed her crush on you to Nat, crying outside on the lawn after you’d taken some other girl to bed; since then, Natasha tried her best to encourage Wanda to come clean. As visible as Wanda’s dependence on you was, your reciprocal love was evident as a neon sign above your head. You’d never reject her, but so far, Nat hadn’t convinced Wanda. Plan B was to antagonize incessantly.

The redhead ruffled Wanda’s hair, poking the tip of her nose before backing away. “I see you’re babysitting again tonight or else I’d ask you to sit with me. Movies can get a little boring without something to do while watching.” Wanda wound her arms around you at her insinuation, holding tight while she glared daggers at the older girl.

“She won’t be bored! I’m right here.” It was no secret you thought Natasha was hot, even joked about sleeping with her a few times, but nothing serious. You only had eyes for Wanda and Natasha, well, she found you attractive, but she would never stomp on Wanda’s feelings so blatantly.

But she saw no harm in teasing you until Wanda decided to spill her secrets. All in good fun. “Possessive, are we? Don’t worry, I won’t take your toys, little one.”

Natasha walked off then, unbothered by Wanda’s prominent scowl and making her rounds to deliver snacks. Wanda wanted to be as mad as she looked and she was, to a point. Her crush wasn’t her only secret. While she hated being picked on, she couldn’t deny the taunts always left a dull ache in her belly that she never quite knew what to do with.

“Hey, don’t let her get to you.” You were already leading Wanda to the couch, settling in against the arm before motioning her to sit next to you. “I don’t care if you get scared, we’ll still have plenty of fun.”

“Yeah…” Wanda couldn’t be upset with your kindness, it was the opposite really. The only thing that changed the aforementioned ache was how much worse it got each time you reassured her. For years, her guilty pleasure had been basking in how good it felt to be doted on by you specifically, often playing up her worries just to get an extra pat on the head or kiss on the cheek.

It’d been annoying, but manageable until other people started calling her out for her behavior, the sick combo of being ever so slightly humiliated and then subsequently coddled by her favorite person never failing to set her off. Whenever you’d notice her blushing or how she folded into you each time she was questioned, you read it as shame and stuck up for her, protective friend that you were. How was she supposed to explain that made it all the worse? Now, in this house surrounded by girls who were always pointing it out, Wanda was growing more and more exasperated.

The lights shut off and Wanda curled up beside you, folding her knees under her and leaning against your shoulder. You were quick to pull the thick blanket over you both, taking care to make sure Wanda was nicely cuddled in before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “This okay?”

“Huh?” Wanda was too preoccupied with Natasha plopping down on the other end of the couch, making stupidly obvious thumbs up motions at her to fully understand what you were saying until you asked again. This time, the hand you’d placed behind her was smoothing out her hair and she had to swallow a gulp before she could respond normally. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Really, don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes followed Wanda’s focus and you spotted Natasha who, upon seeing your curious look, instantly shot a “have fun looking after the baby!” your way. You sent her an indignant finger back before turning your attention on Wanda once more. “Hey, guess what?”

Wanda turned her head, searching mirthful eyes for a clue. “What’s up?”

“Shut up, don’t say that.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first movie was… okay. Wanda only ducked her face under the blanket three times which was a new personal record. Most of her issues stemmed from you honestly, how insistent you’re being in keeping her calm. Each time a jumpscare ran, you looked down, whispering your reassurances and nuzzling your cheek against your forehead. You’d been rubbing circles over her hip for the better part of an hour now and Wanda was dangerously close to losing her composure.

“How’s she holding up?” Natasha stretched herself across the couch until she was inches away from the cozy space you’d created for her and the younger woman huffed, stamping down the urge to push the redhead away. Instead she stayed quiet and let you do the talking; it wouldn’t be the first time. Besides, if she spoke up now, she’d give herself away. Natasha was too sharp to miss it.

“She’s fine, Tasha. Leave her alone.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was light; Natasha was clearly still just joking. “If you’re so worried, why don’t you take her?”

She instantly shook her head; she couldn’t peel Wanda away from you if she tried. “I’m just surprised the little princess isn’t bundled up on top of you by now is all.” Wanda couldn’t be mad that Natasha was pointing out the obvious; if she wasn’t next to you, she was on you, but you claimed it was never an issue.

Never one to be too outdone, Wanda wiggled her way into your lap, settling down once her legs were on either side of yours. Surprise was clear on your face when Wanda looked your way, but she only grinned and stuck her tongue out at Nat. So much for staying quiet, “Go away, the next movie is starting.”

Natasha backed up, hands in the air as if to admit defeat, but her shit-eating grin never faltered. If she had to shove you two together by being annoying, so be it; unfortunately for Wanda, she was completely unaware of the other ways the taunts affected her.

Surrounding conversations quieted down as the second film choice started to play and Wanda let out a deep breath, figuring she’d survived another wave of torment. Until you bounced her on your lap, “Don’t be so grumpy, Natasha is just messing around.”

“Yeah? Well then you can stop messing around too and don’t jostle me. I was comfortable.” She grumbled, trying to ignore how much she actually liked it. Just enough friction for her to feel it, to hold back a groan.

Your mouth poked out in a pout, hands coming to cup Wanda’s pink cheeks, “Aww, is someone upset? What’s wrong, you’ve been weird all night.”

Wanda shook her head, craning her neck towards the television across the room as the movie’s intro blasted through the speakers, ignoring you in favor of whatever creature was crawling out of the lake. It didn’t last long; the instant that thing attacked, Wanda was cowering, shuddering against your chest.

“Wands…” Through her fear Wanda registered your hand on the small of her back making small circles that were supposed to be soothing, but currently only left her shivering for a completely different reason. When she whined, you took it as further distress and you’d had enough. “You’re having a bad time, I’m taking you upstairs.”

“No!” She gripped your shirt before you could move her away and this time when you looked her way, Wanda was close enough to really take in her flushed cheeks and nervous lip biting. “I’m fine, quit worrying!”

You were worried about her; when you all went to college, Pietro made you swear you’d look after his twin and you’d rolled your eyes because everyone knew there wasn’t a day that’d gone by where you weren’t taking care of your friend. You chose her over anything, always, even if tonight that was a movie night you’d been looking forward to for months.

“I won’t make fun of you for leaving, not seriously.” You nuzzled your face into the top of Wanda’s head before brushing your lips against her temple to hopefully calm her as you felt her fingers skirt over your hips. The actions made her the opposite of calm, but as her shuffling increased, so did your affection. It was a vicious cycle and Wanda was quickly falling behind.

“It’s not what you think.” If you knew the true source of her discomfort, she’d never be able to look you in the eye again. After you allowed her a few long breaths, you pulled her closer, missing how her legs tightened around yours as her clothed center met the top of your thigh. This was certainly how Wanda was going to die, she was sure of it.

“Then what is it? I only want to help, sweetheart.” You wouldn’t if you could see inside my head right now. She didn’t want to lie to you, not ever. Wanda wished you were more intuitive, really; as often as you’re together, you apparently never actually noticed her behavior. It was cute at first, having her little crush, but it was comforting.. the coddling… fuck, she couldn’t last another second. Not without you knowing how it made her feel. This wasn’t where she wanted to tell you, but you’d start to make a scene soon otherwise.

“You and Natasha, mostly you…” Wanda wasn’t looking at you, if she could, she’d surely lose her nerve. She changed a small movement of her hips, rolling them over your leg and hoping you could feel the ever building heat between her legs. You did. And as soon as you did, your concerned frown curled into pure mischief.

You let her fidget for a while, taking a cursory scan of the room before cupping Wanda’s face in your hands. No one was watching, even Natasha was giving all of her attention to the movie; there was no way you could pass this opportunity up. “What’d we do, hm, are you that annoyed with us? All you’ve done is complain about us bugging you all night.”

“That’s not- I’m not annoyed,” She’d hoped that much was clear by now, what with how she’d been rubbing herself on you like a horny teenager for the past few minutes. You weren’t stupid, maybe you’d only just caught on, but you were more than experienced enough to not have to ask what Wanda’s problem was.

“So you’ve been lying? What are you then?” Wanda didn’t say a word, face scrunched as she fought to get out of your grasp. You let her go and for a second, Wanda thought she was free. But then you were grabbing her hips, guiding her into your own pace, slow and deep, and Wanda gasped audibly.

It might’ve been better if you did just laugh and take her off your lap; she was terrible at keeping quiet. “Well it’s.. mostly it’s when you’re nice to me.”

“When am I ever not nice to-” Your brow furrowed, thinking over your behavior until that last piece clicked, your lips falling open in a shocked ‘O.’ Of course Wanda would be into that, of all things. Your heart swelled, now reliving every time she’d wiggled around happily when you’d tucked her into bed, smothered her in kisses, called her the loveliest of names; she was so precious, it hurt. “My darling girl gets off on being babied, is that it?”

It’d be stupid to deny it when her arousal was so obvious now, her underwear soaked and quickly giving way to the thin material of her shorts. You bounced your leg like you had earlier when her response didn’t come immediately and Wanda nearly drew blood biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t see anyone else in the room and she didn’t want to; your egotistical demeanor was more than she could take on already. “If you’d stopped like I asked, I’d be fine-”

“Not a chance! We’d be right here and you’d be so upset if I didn’t bring your favorite blanket or made you sit upright next to me. You hate when I’m not giving you my full attention.” Wanda so badly wanted to shout how untrue that was— but she’d be too loud and severely wrong.

You ducked down, peppering her face with kisses, innocent looking enough that anyone would think you’re just comforting your jumpy friend— only you knew Wanda was shaking not from fear, but lust. “Wish you’d told me sooner, I would’ve taken care of you, sweet pea.”

Wanda wanted to hear those words for so long, but actually experiencing them, whispered low in her ear was more than she could ever fantasize. “Then do it..” She grabbed your hand, tugging it further under the blanket between the two of you until you could feel the light cotton on her waist, “ Please? I’ll be good.”

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl?” She nodded painfully fast, but you didn’t go where she’d hoped, hand skirting around to her backside, gripping her ass. The new angle was as perfect as she could get on a couch in a room full of your sorority sisters; her thighs parted further, neglected clit hitting the top of your leg as you steadily led her along.

Wanda left kisses along your exposed neck, clumsy and messy in her desperation. She longed to push you down, force your leg right where she needed, beg you to sink your fingers where she was currently clenching around nothing… For obvious reasons, she couldn’t — not here — and it made her so frustrated she could cry. “I know, I know, but you have to keep quiet.”

Much easier said than done; Wanda buried her face in the crook of your neck, muffling the moans she couldn’t force herself to contain any longer. The movie might as well have been yards away, the audio just a dull noise behind her as she worked to find her release on your lap.

You’d known Wanda for years, she wasn’t an open book, but you knew her better than she did. Her grip on your waist tightened, her hips stuttering as she lost focus, “Are you gonna cum?”

You felt more than heard her yes, a low hum of a whimper against your skin. “Go on, I wanna see you cum for me.”

A stray giggle from across the room reminded Wanda of her surroundings, suddenly tense in a bid to hide how close she was to falling apart. “B-But… everyone’s here…”

“Oh, shy little thing.. no one will know, I won’t tell.” True, no one was looking at you, too engrossed in the action on screen or their own side conversations. You’d never dream of saying anything about this anyways; you were never one to brag, especially at Wanda’s expense. “Our little secret, pinky promise.”

It only took a few seconds for Wanda to let go, shaking against you as she sank her teeth into your collarbone. When she settled she realized how uncomfortable she was, too warm under the blanket, but unwilling to look more vulnerable than she already did curled up in your lap. You kept her close, shushing her as Wanda pulled herself together. She could feel her release pooled where she sat, embarrassment creeping up in her chest the longer she had that wet reminder. “Now I’m all sticky…”

“And whose fault is that?” She hated that you pulled her away, even if it was just to give her a cautious once over. You didn’t seem to mind that Wanda ruined one of your favorite pairs of lounge pants, but that didn’t make her feel any better. Your face softened as you took in her awkward squirming and nervous eyes, for as much as you teased her, Wanda really was a delicate little thing. “What’s wrong, baby doll?”

“I don’t want to watch scary movies anymore…” Wanda didn’t regret it, not at all, but where she’d let it happen was possibly the most risky thing she’d done her entire life and while she seemingly hadn’t been caught, she was mortified as the mess she’d made.

“Want me to take you upstairs?” Gentle thumbs smoothed over Wanda’s cheeks, feeling their lingering heat under your fingertips. Your favorite movie was up next, but you wouldn’t enjoy it with Wanda so unsettled and it wasn’t in your nature to send anyone off after sex, especially Wanda. Never her. “I’ll get you all cleaned up, then we can sit in bed and watch whatever you want, does that sound better?”

She agreed instantly of course, the offer of having you all to herself once more too good to pass up. Wanda was being selfish, she knew it, but she’d always been this way when it came to you. This time when you held her to your chest it was so you could stand, securing her legs around your midsection, arms under her for support.

The movie was at its climax, making it easy to slip away without anyone noticing, well, mostly everyone. As you rounded the back of the couch Natasha caught your attention. Wanda didn’t notice, her face firmly attached to your shoulder to avoid accidentally making eye contact with anyone who might’ve caught her being quite literally carried away, but you felt your friend swat at your thigh when you walked past.

You only looked down for a moment, not wanting to worry the girl in your arms, but the split second you locked eyes was enough to catch Natasha’s satisfied grin. “Fucking finally, I was getting tired of bothering Wanda every day.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff au #sorority!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fic #maximotts #motts writes.

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kremlin · 9 months

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could you explain for the "it makes the game go faster" idiots like myself what a GPU actually is? what's up with those multi thousand dollar "workstation" ones?

ya, ya. i will try and keep this one as approachable as possible

starting from raw reality. so, you have probably dealt with a graphics card before, right, stick in it, connects to motherboard, ass end sticks out of case & has display connectors, your vga/hdmi/displayport/whatever. clearly, it is providing pixel information to your monitor. before trying to figure out what's going on there, let's see what that entails. these are not really simple devices, the best way i can think to explain them would start with "why can't this be handled by a normal cpu"

a bog standard 1080p monitor has a resolution of 1920x1080 pixels, each comprised of 3 bytes (for red, blue, & green), which are updated 60 times a second:

~3 gigs a second is sort of a lot. on the higher end, with a 4k monitor updating 144 times a second:

17 gigs a second is definitely a lot. so this would be a good "first clue" there is some specialized hardware handling that throughput unrelated the cpu. the gpu. this would make sense, since your cpu is wholly unfit for dealing with this. if you've ever tried to play some computer game, with fancy 3D graphics, without any kind of video acceleration (e.g. without any kind of gpu [1]) you'd quickly see this, it'd run pretty slowly and bog down the rest of your system, the same way having a constantly-running program that is copying around 3-17GB/s in ram

it's worth remembering that displays operate isochronously -- they need to be fed pixel data at specific, very tight time timings. your monitor does not buffer pixel information, whatever goes down the wire is displayed immediately. not only do you have to transmit pixel data in realtime, you have to also send accompanying control data (e.g. data that bookends the pixel data, that says "oh this is the end of the frame", "this is the begining of the frame, etc", "i'm changing resolutions", etc) within very narrow timing tolerances otherwise the display won't work at all

3-17GB/s may not be a lot in the context of something like a bulk transfer, but it is a lot in an isochronous context, from the perspective of the cpu -- these transfers can't occur opportunistically when a core is idle, they have to occur now, and any core that is assigned to transmit pixel data has stop and drop whatever its doing immediately, switch contexts, and do the transfer. this sort of constant pre-empting would really hamstring the performance of everything else running, like your userspace programs, the kernel, etc.

so for a long list of reasons, there has to be some kind of special hardware doing this job. gpu.

instead of calculating every pixel value manually, the cpu just needs to give a high-level geometric overview of what it wants rendered, and does this with vertices. a vertex is very simple, it's just a point in 3D space, for example (5,2,3). just like a coordinate grid on paper with an extra dimension. with just a few vertices, you can have models like this:

where each dot at the intersection of lines in the above image, would be a vertex. gpus essentially handle huge number of vertices.

in the context of, like, a 3D video game, you have to render these vertex-based models conditionally. you're viewing it at some distance, at some angle, and the model is lit from some light source, and has perhaps some shadows cast across it, etc -- all of this requires a huge amount of vertex math that has to be calculated within the same timeframes as i described before -- and that is what a gpu is doing, taking a vertex-defined 3D environment, and running this large amount of computation in parallel. unlike your cpu which may only have, idk, 4-32 execution cores, your gpu has thousands -- they're nowhere near as featureful as your cpu cores, they can only do very specific simple math with vertices, but there's a ton of them, and they run alongside each other.

so that is what a gpu "does", in as few words as i can write

the things in the post you're referring to (V100/A100/H100 tensor "gpus") are called gpus because they are also periperal hardware that does a specific kind of math, massively, in parallel, they are just designed and fabricated by the same companies that make gpus so they're called gpus (annoyingly). they don't have any video output, and would probably be pretty bad at doing that kind of work. regular gpus excel at calculating vertices, tensor gpus operate on tensors, which are like matrixes, but with arbitrary numbers of dimensions. try not to think about it visually. they also use a weirder float. they're used for things like "artificial intelligence", training LLMs and whatever, but also for real things, like scientific weather/economy/particle models or simulations

they're very expensive because they cost the same, if not more, than what it cost to design & fabricate regular video gpus, but with a trillionth of the customer base. for every ten million rat gamers that will buy a gpu there is going to be one business buying one A100 or whatever.

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#frequently questioned answers

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infiniteko · 7 months

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hello!

i have been following your instagram since the beginning of 2023. at first, i barely understood anything. ego made up its own ideas, did not know the terminology’s, nor read from any respected gurus. this changed back in summer, as i began reading from many gurus. i took notes, then everything started to piece together. i saw how there was no method to materialize, how nothing could be true but “i am”. it was truly a marvelous experience. i feel as if non-dualism has done more for the egos well being, than any other entity. thank you so much for your continuous explanations to people’s questions, and just posting daily reminders. i look forward to your posts both on here, and on instagram!

that being said, i do have a question but i fear it is from the ego. i am unsure if when in the act of deciding, if it was through ego or self, however it was decided many times that i would observe a new ego, with a whole different life. i understand this life is an illusion of Maya. it has never really existed, yet it is being observed through Brahmin. This has been a repeated cycle for a couple months now. Deciding to wake up as a different ego, and if not happening. There is nothing Atman could do wrong. which leads me to wonder why i am still observing the old ego? this is also the ego speaking, however observing anything else, or materializing is very simple. it is instantaneous. but this one thing is just like a fish that doesn’t swim. ego’s actions, nor thoughts don’t matter since they are unreal and observed- but then why the incompetence of one materialization? ego has been pondering this, but it goes way with the response of “neti, neti.” i would greatly appreciate your feedback, thank you for all you do.

tashi!🕉️

i've always liked "neti, neti" = "not this, not that" or མེད་རང་རྟག་མེད (med rang rtag med) in tibetan because no matter what descriptions you read of your "SELF", it is nowhere near the actual Truth. If I say you're "awareness" , it is not true, your beyond that label. You're not this "awareness", you're not that "Self". You're nothing but also something; no-thing but even then, "you" can never ever be described in words.

Have you noticed that you jump between "this vs that" all the time? You say you "know" this is all Brahman but then you ask about the ego and why xyz isn't happening the way you want to. Then, you say you know you're not this, not that. You're contradicting yourself, it's a very easy trap!😄

"Ego" is only what you THINK you are. Fundamentally on a deeper level it has no existence of its own, no real reality. It is just a collection of thoughts. Thoughts are nothing, meaningless. What you call the "ego" is nothing.

If you forgot EVERYTHING you ever knew and lost all 5 senses, wouldn't you still have an effortless sense of existening?

You said: "this one thing is like a fish that doesn't swim", what made you come to this conclusion? Isn't All "THAT"? Where does the destinction between "hard" and "easy" come from? Aren't you imagining the concepts of hard vs. easy?

"Deciding to wake up as a different ego" How do you expect to wake up as something that fundamentally does not exist? Would it make sense to you if the ocean wished to wake up as a wave? Does a wave truly exist on its own or is it an illusory form the ocean takes on? What are both made of?💧

It sounds confusing because there is no other way to put it other than into limiting words but please read carefully 🙏🏻:

You think you are a physical person trying to get something physical. But for "THAT", all is "THAT". All is instantly "THAT" because "THAT" is all there is to begin with. Do you need any effort to be aware of the words you're reading right now or is it simply happening without anything to do? I'm NOT talking about understanding these words, i'm only talking about being aware of these words before anything else.

So it is with everything else. What you are "aware" of, Is. EVERY other interpretation is illusory. In order for you to come up with an interpretation, you must think imaginary thoughts first. Without thinking, is there anything to say against what you are aware of or is it simply happening now?

#advaita vedanta #awareness #brahman #atman #nondualism

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mariacallous · 1 month

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Republicans are thrashing around trying to get themselves out of the abortion ban they have tried to win for so many decades. Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC) was the first. In the fall of 2022, just months after the Supreme Court struck down Roe v. Wade, he proposed legislation calling for a national abortion ban after 15 weeks. So far, this bill has gone nowhere. Then, in 2023, gubernatorial candidate Glenn Youngkin of Virginia put the 15-week abortion ban at the center of his campaign to help the GOP take full control of the Virginia legislature. Rather than holding one house and picking up the other, he lost both. Recently, former President Donald Trump—who often brags about appointing the three Supreme Court justices who made possible the repeal of Roe v. Wade—offered his own way out of the thicket by applauding the fact that states now can decide the issue for themselves. And in Arizona, the Republican Senate candidate, Kari Lake, is trying to rally the party around the notion of a 15-week ban instead of the 1864 near total ban their court just affirmed, even though she’s facing criticism for this on the far right. Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal came out with a poll showing that abortion was the number one issue—by far—for suburban women voters in swing states.

In each instance (and there will be more) we find Republicans desperately trying to find a position on the issue that makes their base and the other parts of their coalition happy.

It doesn’t exist, and here’s why—abortion is an integral part of health care for women.

Since 2022, when the Supreme Court eviscerated Roe in the Dobbs case, we have been undergoing a reluctant national seminar in obstetrics and gynecology. All over the country, legislators—mostly male—are discovering that pregnancy is not simple. Pregnancies go wrong for many reasons, and when they do, the fetus needs to be removed. One of the first to discover this reality was Republican State Representative Neal Collins of South Carolina. He was brought to tears by the story of a South Carolina woman whose water broke just after 15 weeks of pregnancy. Obstetrics lesson #1—a fetus can’t live after the water breaks. But “lawyers advised doctors that they could not remove the fetus, despite that being the recommended medical course of action.” And so, the woman was sent home to miscarry on her own, putting her at risk of losing her uterus and/or getting blood poisoning.

A woman from Austin, Texas had a similar story—one that eventually made its way into a heart-wrenching ad by the Biden campaign. Amanda Zurawski was 18 weeks pregnant when her water broke. Rather than remove the fetus, doctors in Texas sent her home where she miscarried—and developed blood poisoning (sepsis) so severe that she may never get pregnant again. Note that in both cases the medical emergency happened after 15 weeks—late miscarriages are more likely to have serious medical effects than early ones. The 15-week idea, popular among Republicans seeking a way out of their quagmire, doesn’t conform to medical reality.

Over in Arkansas, a Republican state representative learned that his niece was carrying a fetus who lacked a vital organ, meaning that it would never develop normally and either die in utero or right after birth. Obstetrics lesson #2—severe fetal abnormalities happen. He changed his position on the Arkansas law saying, “Who are we to sit in judgment of these women making a decision between them and their physician and their God above?”

In a case that gained national attention, Kate Cox, a Texas mother of two, was pregnant with her third child when the fetus was diagnosed with a rare condition called Trisomy 18, which usually ends in miscarriage or in the immediate death of the baby. Continuing this doomed pregnancy put Cox at risk of uterine rupture and would make it difficult to carry another child. Obstetrics lesson #3—continuing to carry a doomed pregnancy can jeopardize future pregnancies. And yet the Texas Attorney General blocked an abortion for Cox and threatened to prosecute anyone who took care of her, and the Texas Supreme Court ruled that her condition did not meet the statutory exception for “life-threatening physical condition.”

So, she and her husband eventually went to New Mexico for the abortion.

Obstetrics lesson #4—miscarriages are very common, affecting approximately 30% of pregnancies. While many pass without much drama and women heal on their own—others cause complications that require what’s known as a D&C for dilation and curettage. This involves scraping bits of pregnancy tissue out of the uterus to avoid infection. When Christina Zielke of Maryland was told that her fetus had no heartbeat, she opted to wait to miscarry naturally.

While waiting, she and her husband traveled to Ohio for a wedding where she began to bleed so heavily that they had to go to an emergency room. A D&C would have stopped the bleeding, but in Ohio, doctors worried that they would be criminally charged under the new abortion laws and sent her home in spite of the fact that she was still bleeding heavily and in spite of the fact that doctors in Maryland had confirmed that her fetus had no heartbeat. Eventually her blood pressure dropped, and she passed out from loss of blood and returned to the hospital where a D&C finally stopped the bleeding.

These are but a few of the horror stories that will continue to mount in states with partial or total bans on abortion. As these stories accumulate, the issue will continue to have political punch. We have already seen the victory of pro-choice referenda in deep red conservative states like Kansas, Kentucky, Montana, and Ohio; and in swing states like Michigan and in deep blue states like California and Vermont. In an era where almost everything is viewed through a partisan lens, abortion rights transcend partisanship.

And more referenda are coming in November. The expectation is that at least some, if not most, of the pro-choice voters likely to be mobilized by the abortion issue will help Democrats up and down the ballot. As a result, Democratic campaigns are working hard to make sure the public knows that Republicans are responsible.

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crying-fantasies · 6 months

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This is a life... (3)

Masterlist

Procreation is the way your people live on, how they ensure their existence out of their own short and sometimes futile lifeline, they keep their species alive, passing down not only genetic information but also in some beliefs that can be learned by the next generation.

Procreation it's an almost foreign and forgotten word for his people, they don't interface with creating a new spark in mind since it can hardly happen, you can spike whoever and not get any results, let alone carry, almost no mechs or femmes have functional gestation chambers to get a spark to end inside their bodies and it has been way too long since a new spark was given life from another bot, you want to know how long? Way before the war, that long, but with Vector Sigma and their supposed peace no bot was concerned about their numbers for a millennia and half.

At least before the war and the end of it, that's it.

Now, numbers are minimal, worst and nowhere near to the numbers they had once even in their most terrible energon lack that is dated back to when Kup wasn't even online, you ask him how long was that and Prowl answers you saying that not even the sea of rust existed then.

So, a very, very long time ago.

And so, Prowl wants to take your worry away when he goes on his day without recharging for 10 cycles straight, he tells you how important this is and how important is to have him be responsible to make this spark make it, the ones in New Cybertron and the ones in Luna-1 are ripe and trying to get their own bodies, but protoform metal is scarce and he may need to make it happen even when he doesn't know how, he will make it anyway.

You worries make him feel bad even when he tries to tell himself this is his job, wearing his usual stoic nature and acid comments, occasionally returning to your shared living unit from time to time when he really can't keep hearing Pyra Magna never ending claims on how the sentio metallico is scarce and how her blacksmith team is beyond exhausted with the continuous work or how the Senate pressure him, saying he needs to get Rodimus back with his whole ship to bring more energy to the whole operation even if Prowl has to tear apart that ship with his own servos or how the survivors of the functionalist world still need help adapting to this reality and-

"Prowl"

And then there is you, little and unafraid you that has waited for him to return home, strange human word, for Primus knows how long, he can feel and see his terrible physical situation everywhere there is a glass like structure but can't afford to see your tired eyes when you caught him trying to get some basic energon down his intake after so long without a break.

"Oh Prowl" you say his designation like it hurts you, he finally takes seat where he can, you hurry to move around even when he tells you to leave him alone, the message and plead of going to sleep on your own almost forgotten when he catches how you, organic little you, tries your luck with a concoction of energon he has only showed you how to make once when he really had enough of take outs in hopes of getting him something warm and not flying away by an explosion.

It has been a while, since someone took care of him, and he doesn't like it, not even the strange attraction this simple act places upon him, because this makes him remember how all started.

He shouldn't have been weak at that moment, he shouldn't have.

You should take care of yourself, he should take care of you, not the other way around when only the attempt of filtering energon can kill you with a little mistake, that's all it takes, he doesn't care how his spark hums, he doesn't care he feels strange fuzziness when you try to get the cube near to him, Prowl quites down the growing sound of his engine revving with sheer willpower and a stoic face plate.

How does he look to you right now? Probably a mess, absolutely destroyed to some point, his wing doors are falling to his sides because he doesn't have the strength to keep them up in the familiar ground your home is, he doesn't let you do everything, getting on his pedes to take the cube and downing it on one go, is messy, hardly different from basic energon really and the rust flakes you put to add some flavor are still on the bottom, he just takes you on his servos after discarding the cube away, smiling tiredly and as non threatening as he can when you ask if it was good.

"Passable"

You look angry, you really aren't, just so tired, just like him, it has been long road and a tiny smile doesn't catch you by surprise anymore, only getting near to his servos and hugging what you can, you clothes do little to keep you warm in the cold planet that Cybertron is with the temperature regulator out in another electric failure in your part of the city.

Prowl really needs to hunt down Rodimus and get his ship even when his scientifics tell him they are near to a new energy source, he just wants it to be fast and even if he gets it the former Primer will hear a piece of his mind.

His usual terrifying and murderous train of thought is cut short when he feels the now cold fingertips of yours pass near his transformation seams, if that isn't a clear indicator of your needs then the hormones and pheromones his nostril and HUD recognized when he put a pede back home really are, it has only subsided a little when you saw him, drained and in need of recharge.

"If you are too tired it's fine"

It isn't, because he is supposed to take care of your needs.

Interfacing with you, having sex or making love with you, is strange in more ways than he really thought to begin with, apart from the names you and your people gave to the act of sexual intercourse, he knows is a way of showing affection or a deep connection, just like cybertronians did before the war.

Still, it doesn't stop the annoying bug in the back of his brain processor.

It's a stupid idea, one as ridiculous as the image of Jazz, one of the few bots he keeps considering a friend and keep contact, totally mass displaced and holding a way too young and sleepy human infant with a smile on his faceplate that goes from one audial to the other, "The name's Pauline" Prowl has to make a double take, process this slag and then ex-vent, asking to himself who let this happen, "quite the servoful, but boy, it's a delight" Jazz does look at the end of his energies too but the smile he keeps on is giving away so much happiness, the infant look at him with those curious little eyes before looking at Jazz again, neck still too weak to support the head and Jazz helps the infant to look at the screen, "Hi there uncle Prowl" he makes a childish voice while moving the infant hand, which is slowly sleeping now, he doesn't have the energy for this and he tells Jazz so even when he laughs wholeheartedly before ending the call.

And now, he can't stop thinking about it, because it's in his nature and programming to be inquisitive, how did Jazz get a human infant? Did it come from the human he is courting? Prowl doesn't know how to answer that because there is the necessity of two to create new life.

Even as one of the best mechs he has ever meet, he knows Jazz wouldn't be thrilled to share a prospective mate, since it's impossible for a cybertronian to copulate and impregnate a human, well, he realizes once again that knowing and doing are two different things while you call out his designation, bent over in search of more contact that have almost been lost with his unnecessary thinking.

You seem to think otherwise, telling him that is okay, you'll take care of things from here, Prowl doesn't want you to tire out but he can't deny you while the lays on the berth, losing himself on your kind words, talk about him in a way he doesn't even believe while his spark pulses painfully inside his chamber, you take him again, going slow, telling him to power off his optics and he does so without a second thought, your fingers dragging along his armor and derma, leading his ventilation system to near failure with the slow pace you keep, he is worried for a moment, are you already tired? Are you bored of this? He is fast to seat again and power on his optics, he stops mid movement when he notices what you are doing.

Now, Prowl wasn't the most friendly with humans back on earth but he saw them on a regular basis, especially the ones that found their way inside the ark or the ones that roamed the streets when he was patrolling, Prowl knows what you are doing, entertaining an image, a thought that was only passing by, an idea of what you two could have if you were of the same species, he needs a minute to consider why are you doing this now, why are you doing this to him.

You are touching your soft flesh, just where he can reach without inflicting damage inside your body, you look dazed before noticing the glow of his optics on you in the middle of the night cycle, blue light shinning over heated skin, beads of sweat dragging along your body.

"It's nothing" you say while returning to move and don't look back at him, he has to take a moment, decipher what's going on, his HUD taking notice once again on the chemicals in the air and giving him an answer that leaves him blank in the processor before he totally understands what is going on with you.

When he does, his spark chamber opens without his consent, almost making you fall back by the surprise if it wasn't for the quick action of his leg armor where your back impacts, it gives a new angle that rips a moan out of you and makes him clench his dentae hard while his servos hold you near his open spark chamber and keeps you in place, you both know what is going on to some degree, he let's you do what you want and doesn't even say a word out of the hard movement and sound of his cooling fans as you start to kiss his spark and the sensible cabling around, his vox start to glitch and static fills the air in an idiom he knows you don't understand, it gives him some privacy, at least to some degree, he would be more embarrassed if you could know of the promises he says than the way his servos hold you flush against him when your flesh is nothing but restless while taking from him and all he is worth.

Prowl promises a whole future even if he knows it's futile, his logic refusing every glyph spoken but that doesn't stop him, he promises new life that comes from you, he promises he will give it to you.

If others can have it; why not you? Why not him?

It's mere fantasy, one you want to indulge and one he will let you have, computer working on four thousand options in where he can give you what you want, hearing pleas for your release, which he can give you, your fingers scratch on sensitive transformation seams and your dull, sharp less teeth bite on a cable near his spark.

Prowl tries to cool down his burning frame, difficult task when he takes a glimpse of his transfluid on you, his system is about to shut down and reboot next, internal computer showing him that all his options can't be possible and there is no way for him to help you if not to let you reproduce with another human.

The idea makes him grunt in anger.

This anger dies down quickly, feeling your lips on his, hands giving loving caresses on his cheeks, and with it is that he let's his system shut down on recharge that he needs so much.

@dundeey here is your offering, let go of the knife in @montyuh throat slowly... Let them do their Hound content (because I also want some) while you get this.

#reader insert #x reader #angst #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #idw prowl #prowl x human reader #prowl x reader #tf prowl

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myfandomprompts · 7 months

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𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟗/𝟏𝟎)

Summary: There is little time left. Very little time. Previous Part - Masterlist

Warnings: angst, anti-Semitism French spoken -> italics

At first, it’s how Albert’s face seems to shut off each time your town’s name is seen on a sign at the side of the road, the mark that you’re getting closer to your destination. Then it’s how Tom looked like he wished for the earth to swallow him whole each time the bus station is mentioned, the place that will take you home.

It just seems so close now.

But there are good moments. At noon, when you find yourselves in the middle of nowhere with only the shade of the trees or a windmill to keep you cool, you all sit joyfully on the grass to eat what Charles and Germaine had generously given you; plenty of bread and ham to be able to walk without to a rumbling belly. It’s during those occasions that Tom never misses an opportunity to be next to you, the fact that you’ve taken to teaching him French seriously giving him a good reason to talk to you at length.

Not that he needed a good reason.

Everyone casually laughs at his attempts at pronunciation, each of them trying to participate and help where they can. But the truth is, he’d rather have you for himself, because he knew he could make you smile like he had never seen anyone else do, like nobody else could.

He wanted to be the only one.

“This isn’t even a word…”

“Yes it is!” you argued as you dropped your hand in defeat. “Poulailler is where the chickens go. Try it.”

He didn’t lose his teasing smile while he tried to pronounce it. “Yeah, still doesn’t sound right.”

“It wasn’t bad. La poule is the chicken, le poulailler is the chicken coop, it’s as simple as that.”

“And how do you say rooster, then?”

You stopped yourself from answering him at the last second, red staining your cheeks slightly. “Mh, that you don’t want to know.”

“Why?”

You contemplated his curious and enticing smile before a voice interrupted you and your thoughts. “Hey, Y/N, can you tell me on the map where the store you slept in was again? Looks like a good hiding place for future travellers, if the owners get on board.”

You nod quietly to Giulia before taking the map from her to examine it while you heard Tom fall back at your side, disappointed. The conversation didn’t stray from the different points Giulia could use for her route, mentioning Raymond, whom Charles had said he would convince, and Albert, who already saw himself as a ‘passeur’ near Poitiers.

Tom was bored again, and you felt guilt at the sight of his glum expression. But it all went away when he suddenly comfortably rested his head on your lap, closing his eyes and proceeded to take a nap there as if it was the most natural thing to do.

There was a brief silence, but the others quickly reconvened around the current subject while indescribable affection and fulfilment flooded through you. You didn’t notice Henriette's discreet smile, Giulia’s indifference or Albert’s flickering eyes as you fell behind the conversation completely, coming to run your fingers through his hair.

He didn’t open his eyes, but his lips stretched into a content smile. The soft satisfying sound he made when you grazed your nails over his scalp cheered you, and only you heard his quiet praises, telling you how nice it felt.

This is what he had been talking about, making every moment count. You would not allow yourself to think of the end.

You didn’t leave his side once as you hit the road again, walking next to each other, hands itching to reach to the other. It felt liberating, confusing, good. However, the more you advanced, the more your feet started to gradually drag on the pathways, reluctant. You wished you could stretch the journey at will, to go back in time or simply think of this journey as a nice trip in the countryside. Not a way to make it home, to send him home.

To put all of this behind you.

But reality struck you like a slap in the face when you approached the next town, quiet streets with bricked walls plastered with the new government’s posters, and below one of them, an old looking graffiti with a single blood-icing sentence.

“Les Juifs sont la cause de la guerre.”

You all glanced at it before lowering your gazes and hastening the pace, taking the direction of the inn you would spend the night in in tensed silence.

Tom lingered a moment longer, trying to decipher the words without success. He trotted behind you, brows furrowed at your sudden sour faces. “What’s written there?”

You rolled your tongue inside of your mouth, ill at ease. “Jews are the reason for the war.”

He stopped, face decomposing after your whispered translation before glancing around in worry. But he quickly caught up with you as you neared the café terrace where both regulars and travellers were enjoying a drink or a well-deserved meal.

You exhaled in relief as you entered, the coolness of the inside air much more bearable after your journey, and by the time you sat around a table and booked rooms at the counter, Tom had found his usual silent countenance again. You could see the irritation in his eyes and within his gestures as he now could not utter a word out loud without earning a dark glance from Giulia, not until you were in a less crowded place again. It saddened you too.

You had to snap your eyes away from the way his tongue wetted his lips before taking a sip of his drink in frustration when Albert dropped a heavy book in front of you. “Phone book. I need your help finding Aunt Marie. It won’t hurt telling the parents we’re on our way.”

You nod, more like a reflex than anything else before opening the pages filled with countless telephone numbers. Tom eyed each time you turned a page with a dark expression, jaw clenching, but you said nothing as you continued. His glass was emptied by the time Henriette had gone to freshen herself in the commons, your own tired gaze fixed on the digits before you.

You didn’t notice the three policemen enter at first, the usualness of their visit blending perfectly with the rest of the customers, until they approached a table that had been awfully quiet since you’d arrived.

It was the entire room’s turn to fall in a tense silence. “Gutten Haben, Henrren.”

You lifted your head upon hearing the German words, not understanding why two French Policemen had suddenly switched languages. The one that had spoken was giving a sad look at the men seated for dinner, the two other policemen gauging the room warily.

“Uh… Gutten Haben, what can I… do for you?” one of the men asked in awful French, his thick German accent making the policemen smile briefly. Meanwhile, sweat was starting to form over the man’s forehead.

“Unfortunately, you’ll have to come with us. We’ve been told that you’re immigrants, German immigrants.”

The two Germanics exchanged frightened glances before gazing back at the rough-looking policeman. “But… We have papers, we obtained it from your government, months ago!”

The latter clicked his tongue, an uneasy scowl appearing on his features, as if he was trying to convince himself rather than them. “I’m afraid it won’t suffice. Our government has implemented new laws. You’re going home, I’m sorry.”

You heard murmurs around you, catching words like “ran away”, “Jewish” or “persecuted”. The next moment, Giulia was whispering in your ears. “Y/N, take Tom and go through the back entrance. If they are taking refugees, there is no say what they’ll do to a British soldier, and we can’t risk it. I’ll find Henriette.”

There was a strange state of purpose surpassing the brief panic that filled you before you took Tom’s hand softly under the table. He barely resisted when you led him away, heading to the back stairwell as the two Germans were taken out quietly out of the room and the two other policemen lingered around.

Tom didn’t say anything until you had reached a back alley with a slim stream coursing next to it. “What is it, what are we doing?”

You checked that the coast was clear before pulling him to a corner where no one would hear you. “I don’t… I don’t think this town is safe.”

“What are you talking about? I thought we’ve reached a ‘free’ place where they couldn’t chase us. Were they German folks?”

“I think they… I think they were Jewish refugees from Germany, yes,” you thought out loud, digging your teeth in your lower lip in anguish. “The Reich wants them back, for…”

“And what the hell has it gotta do with those French coppers?”

You knew how helpless you looked at that moment, how lost. “Because this is the new regime! Pétain will do anything Hitler asks of him, and there is no say where it’ll stop… You would be taken as a prisoner of war, you have no papers, you have nothing…” You bit your tongue darkly. “Somebody ratted out those Germans, that's how they knew.”

Tom parted his lips in exasperation before clenching his jaw hard. “Oh, that’s bloody brilliant.”

He leaned his head against the darkened wall, right next to a propaganda poster, Pétain looking down at you with high colours as if he could see you, hear you.

You bit your nails, stressed. “But it won’t happen to you! You’ve got Giulia, you’ve got a safe route to Spain, and there are no Nazis on this side, it’ll be alright.”

“Once again, Y/N, you don’t know that. I’m the first wanker who is making sure that crossing will not get me killed. Not that I’ll care about making it now, anyway…”

Shock at his words made your breath momentarily get stuck in your throat. You lowered your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to keep a straight face.

But you tensed and didn’t even know where to look.

He immediately realised what he had said, pushing himself off of the wall to make you look at him. “Shit, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that.”

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head as he held you close, making you go soft against him. “Why would you say that…”

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” he repeated against your hair. “I’m just bloody tired, and it’s like I can’t see past the moment when… when we…” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Well, at least you won’t have to worry about me then.”

You detached your face from his chest, looking up at him with fierce damped eyes. “I’ll never stop worrying about you, Tom.”

You saw the lump in his throat disappear as he swallowed hard, glistening eyes fixed on you. You cupped his face with your hand, bringing him into a kiss that would make him understand, feel your need for him.

“You don’t get to give up, you hear me, Tom Bennett?”

He all but smiled, a ray of light in the dark. “You should know me by now, nothing can take me down, not even a bullet.”

You smiled in turn, trying not to leave his warmth as you kept your body close. “You know, I can’t help but think that… if you haven’t been shot, we might have never met again.”

You stared at each other while his thumb stroked your shoulders, lowering to your ribs, to your waist.

He took a deep breath. “Some might say it’s God’s plan and all. Either way, considering where I am now… I’d say it was worth it, this damn hell I've been through.”

He was drawing small circles against the curve of your waist, tickling your skin and you chuckled through the bitterness. “Always the charmer, are you?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I was known for back at home, wasn’t I? Gotta live up to the name.”

You hummed, coming to wrap your hands around his neck to stroke the soft hair there playfully. “That’s not exactly what I remember your reputation to be.”

“Hm? Care to tell me, then?” he teased.

You faked hesitation, pressing your forehead against his to whisper. “Trouble maker… Loud-mouthed… Hot blooded?”

He pouted. “That… does not sound like me at all.”

His hidden laughter made you tilt your head to the side in refound glee. “Doesn’t it? I could have sworn it was you. Maybe I should look for another Tom?”

He instantly pressed his body harder against yours, familiar heat meeting your flesh. “Why would you do that when you have what’s best right there? Helpful, good-looking, amazing kisser…”

“Oh, really? I don’t remember hearing anything about that last part.”

“Odd, since you’re the one who told me, love,” he said with a grin as you arched an eyebrow over your forehead. "Through the pretty sounds you make, that look in your eyes when I touch you… I just can tell.”

You shook your head with a sigh to try to hide the blush that adorned your cheeks as he joined his lips with yours again. The touch sent chills down your spine and it suddenly made you feel far away from the inn, from any risks that could come your way.

“Are you Jewish?”

The small tone made you stop and snap your eyes open. A small child stood behind Tom, no more than eight, looking at the two of you with a paper plane in his hands, his expression flat.

You froze in Tom’s arms as you blinked, his head falling backwards in annoyance as you pulled away from him. “I, uhm… No? Why would you ask that, sweetheart?”

The child frowned at your confused tone. “Then, why are you hiding?”

You remained speechless at his question as Tom’s warning tone fanned in your left ear. “Y/N, if I turn around that lad is going to be traumatised. You should really make him go.”

You scowled at his complicit eyes as you tried not to feel his point. You detached yourself from him, making him sigh in frustration as you approached the boy gently. “We’re hiding because… we’re playing a game. Tom here was meant to find me, and he did. We were just discussing… game strategy. Where are your parents?”

The boy sniffed, an untrustworthy look fixed on you. “My father says that Jews are bad, that they’re everywhere and steal everything from us. That’s why the Germans want them.”

You tried not to appear too gobsmacked as you lowered yourself to him, a sour taste in your mouth. “You know… Maybe you shouldn’t listen to everything your father says, I can assure you they-”

Tom’s impatience was palpable behind you and when he called your name, the boy’s frown deepened, clutching his paper plane harder as he glanced between the two of you. “Maybe I should go and ask my father directly, he’ll know.”

“No, wait!” you tried, but he had already scattered toward the house right at the opposite side of the road, disappearing behind a fence.

Tom came to your level, seeing you heave with distress. “What was that?”

“Not reassuring.”

You took his hand swiftly and dragged him along the stream in haste, wishing to put as much distance between you and the concerning neighbourhood before the boy could find you. Despite Tom’s hissed arguments as you kept walking, you only stopped when you reached the underside of a bridge, considering it far enough and feeling your slightly panicked heart settle.

“Are you giving me a tour?” he chuckled as he took in his surroundings. “It’s very pretty, I’ll give you that.”

It was. The bridge you had stopped under was small but big enough to hide you from anyone above. The evening light shone right on the stream below your feet and cast beams of light on the white stones. On the other side, a lone fisherman was laying his line in the calm waters, a bored eye lifted toward you as you turned to face Tom with a frustrated sigh.

“Darn this country. I’m sorry I dragged you here again, I just didn’t want to face people with problematic ideas. I didn’t want to get angry.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Does my girl get angry, really?”

“When people are stupid, yes!”

He chuckled as he pulled you away from under the bridge in order to walk along the stream, hand in hand. The grin he wore upon his lips was so endearing, as if he had no care in the world. "I’m afraid you’ll have to do an awful lot of fightin’, then.”

You exhaled as you pressed your thumb against the back of his hand, making him grin further. The night was setting quickly and already humidity was falling over your skin, eliciting goosebumps there.

“Do you even know how to get back?” he asked, looking around as you passed a small pier.

“Yeah, it’s somewhere… around there,” you gestured vaguely over your left to the path that led back on the road, hesitant. If truth was to be told, you were not in a hurry to get back, those moments with him seemed so precious to you.

Tom hummed, unconvinced but did not add anything else. As you went up the pathway, smells of dinners being cooked and playful screams of children reached you, and when you neared a small square further down the road, you heard the soft sound of a gramophone starting to play. Tom’s lips slowly curved upwards as he glanced over the high window where the music was coming from.

“What are you doing?” you asked when he turned around to face you, a playful glint in his eyes.

He didn’t answer, only brought you to a stop before taking one of your hands in his and putting the other on your waist. When the voice of Lys Gauty resounded, slow and beautiful along the violins, you felt yourself move in his embrace.

You laugh softly, feeling silly at each of your steps. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

“I went to a few of Lois’ gigs,” he said with a snidely. “I observed.”

“I’ve never seen you attend one…”

You saw his expression drop as you kept moved in rhythm. “Yeah, well, once I went there, knowing you would be there but when I arrived, you were dancing with some bloke and… I didn’t feel like staying.”

You watched his long eyelashes flutter, the skin under his eyes turning reddish as he fled your gaze. He was beautiful.

But you couldn’t help but tease him. “I remember. He was quite nice, offered me a drink afterwards…”

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear about it, really.”

You smiled tenderly, bringing a hand you wanted apologetic closer to his face. “He was not you, though. You wouldn’t have tried to get me drunk, right?”

Tom’s smile grew sardonic, satisfied. “The git.”

“Yeah,” you whispered as you pressed your lips against his smug ones, grinning through the kiss.

You lost yourselves in the melody, bodies moving languidly along the female soothing voice as he held you close, faces resting against each other.

“It’s nice… What does it say?” he asked after a while, hot breath fanning over your cheek.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the lyrics. The word slowly sank in and unexpectedly made your heart ache, their meaning passing over you like a cold wind. “It’s from a movie, I think. It’s… kind of sad.”

“Tell me.”

You felt some of his hair graze the side of your face as your voice turned a bit broken. “It’s about two young lovers of twenty. They lived very close, but although they loved each other they never had the courage to confess, until they kissed and all became brighter.”

He readjusted his position against you. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

The music turned sombre, trumpets playing in as you continued. “But then hope disappeared, and all took the shade of the night. They grew apart, and their story became part of the past, their shared dreams left behind as if nothing happened between them.”

Tom fell silent, his fingers pressing deeper into your palm and waist as you opened your eyes.

If the words resonated strongly within the two of you, their weight crushing like a hammer, you did your best to not let the other feel it. You couldn't let yourself be controlled by these emotions, not so close to the end.

The song ended on a distorted note and a click as your light steps slowed on the paved stone. When the melody started again, the same melancholic words repeating, you decided that you had enough.

You couldn't bear it. “We should go back.”

You slowly pulled away from him, shivering from the cold air around you from the loss of his embrace but felt his grip over your hand harden, securing you into place. He hadn’t moved, a determined expression displayed over his features, the one he took when he was battling against his emotions.

You looked at him expectantly. “You haven’t changed your mind, have ya? I really can’t convince you to come with me anymore.”

You tried to focus on his touch in order to shut out the now irritable music coming from the window above, to shut out the emotions that threatened to make tears appear at the rim of your eyes. Nothing was as bitter than your heart at that particular moment.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded slowly after a long while, his lips curling in bitterness, resignation. When you met his eyes, you could have sworn that the light inside of them had gone, the lively glint inhabiting it. But his hand remained locked with yours, warm and tight.

When you got back to the inn the night had fallen completely.

You often wondered what would have happened if you had listened to your father, if you hadn’t come home from England, stayed away from the war.

Would you still be in your tiny flat, not far from the centre? Would you be worried sick about Tom, as staring at the door he had slammed behind him like he had just left? Would he have even slammed it in anger if he had been the first to leave, and not you?

By now, the news of his disappearance or potential death must have reached Manchester, and you wondered how you would have felt if you had been on the other side of the mirror. You pictured a devastated Douglas, a lost and helpless Lois listening to the wireless. You couldn't even fathom the state you would have been in, if you weren't here, knowing he was perfectly out of danger, close to being reunited with your parents and having found your brother safe against all odds.

The greatest difference from where you stood was that here, you would have to see him leave, never to come back.

You're taken out of your reveries as you reached a crossroad, one moment Henriette asking you if you were alright, the other the boisterous voice of your brother making your head lift up in a quick motion.

"This is it," he announced, examining the sign in front of you. "This way is Châteauroux… where you'd be able to take the train,” he said toward Giulia as he waved somewhere over his right. “And this way is Poitiers. Our path.”

Your feet planted on the ground like they had suddenly grown roots and you felt the oxygen lack in your lungs as you forgot to breathe. You stared at the sign helplessly, trying to comprehend the words written on it, unwilling to.

You barely heard the conversation going vividly around you as the others said goodbye with warm embraces. Your eyes were turned toward Tom, finding him already looking at you and you felt your heart drop in your chest. His blue eyes bright, piercing, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

Only when the small form of Giulia came to block your vision were you forced to tear your gaze away from him. "Y/N, it was a pleasure meeting you. You really helped."

Your voice seemed to sound far away when you answered clumsily, barely present in the moment with her.

You felt so empty. "Oh, I, uhm… really?"

"Yes, more than you know."

Her smile managed to snatch one from you, but it didn’t linger as she hugged you kindly. Over her shoulder, you saw your brother shake Tom’s hand and Henriette bid him good luck with a smile, but he barely managed to return it. Instead, silence settled in the air as Giulia let go of you, your gaze fixed on Tom, speechless.

Henriette was the first to speak after a while, clearing her throat awkwardly. "We should give them a minute."

The crunching noise of pebbles on the ground as they stepped away resonated too loudly in your ears. Tom approached you carefully, his fair skin paler than usual against the warm summer air.

You fumbled with your hands, eyes barely able to meet his penetrative ones.

"I guess this is goodbye then," you said, throat achingly dry.

He didn't answer, staring at you relentlessly, making you hyper aware of the scorching heat gradually forming beneath your eyes. "You'll say hi to your father and sister for me, yeah? And to the baby…"

His mouth remained closed as you shifted uncomfortably into place, crushed under his gaze.

Not having enough of it.

"Stop looking at me like that…"

His eyes flickered, the softness of his tone surprising you as he parted his lips. "Looking at you like what?"

"Like you're… like you're mad at me."

'I'm not-" he began, shaking his head. "I'm not mad at you, I just… It's just fucking unfair."

You swallowed the sour taste in your mouth. “We’ll see each other again. It doesn’t have to be the end.”

“Then why does it bloody feel like it?”

You couldn't answer, the uncertainty of your lives too much to even think about, rendering promises achingly pointless. You bit the inside of your cheek in a failed attempt to stay composed, but when he lowered his gaze and took your hands in his, you froze.

They were so warm, perfect for you.

"Listen, Y/N, about these three words, these three damn very known words... I really need to say th-"

"No, please Tom, don't," you pleaded, feeling the dampness of your eyes barely holding in. "I can't… I couldn't cope. Please."

His face decomposed, eyes strained sadly upon you, lost. The words burned his tongue, melted his heart. Still, he didn’t say them.

You couldn't bear it, the expression he wore, your own doing. You felt a tear form at the rim of your right eye and you leaned into him, pressing your forehead against his to hide it from him. He sighed against you immediately, eyes closed and hands trailing up your arms.

He felt so good.

“Don't you dare forget about me, Y/N."

He sought out your lips, his nose digging into your cheek and you caved, melting into his needy kiss. It was slow and painfully sweet, realising that it could be your last. As his hands cupped your face more strongly, calloused fingers burning your numb flesh, you allowed yourself to make it last.

You pulled apart, panting for air as you remained in each other's embrace, your hands pressed against his chest. You found his heart to be beating as fast as yours, as shattered as yours.

After a sharp inhale, you felt it settle gradually as you tried to memorise the feel of him in your mind, to imprint it into your skin.

"Goodbye, Tom."

You kept your eyes shut as a single tear finally rolled down your cheek, your body aching as you battled against his softening grip. When you pulled away from him sharply, you could only repress a shuddering breath.

You didn't allow yourself to look back until you had reached the others, and when you finally turned, he hadn't moved a muscle, weary eyes strained in you, powerless as he stood in the middle of the path.

It took everything you had not to let more of your tears fall.

Giulia gave you a quick movement of the head before joining him. She had to call his name before he finally followed her. Henriette stroked your back as you watch him reluctantly walk backwards, his eyes not leaving your face.

Maybe it would be easier to just close yours, embrace the darkness, to not witnesses that wretched moment.

But you couldn't, and by the time he had disappeared around a corner, your cheeks had dried and the pain in your stomach had turned dull.

There were still a few more miles until you would reach the bus station, and you couldn't utter a word, barely acknowledging your surroundings as you kept walking.

Only when you were safely seated in the bus did you feel all of the emotion crashing down, true tears being finally released. There was no dull pain anymore, but aching regret clutching at your heart, and you had to press against your chest in an attempt to soothe the pain.

"Y/N, what's happening?"

You tried to breathe, to remain quiet, but it was too painful. "I should have let him say it… I should have said it back, I should-" you panted in muffled cries as Henriette watched you with worry. "I should have said that I loved him."

You didn't calm down until you arrived at your destination.

Part 10 (and last one.)

Thank you @babyblue711 for you support and amazing beta reading, as always.

Music Tom and reader dance to:

A/N: The installation of antisemitism within the Vichy government occurred much later, the first step with a new Jewish status on October 1940. I fast fowarded it so it can be applied on the story, in July-August 1940. The persecution in Non-Occupied Zone came much later as well, but it didn’t prevent the hate toward the Jews in France. Jew immigrates were, however, arrested during that time, because they weren’t French (who still had some semblance of rights early in the war.) Same goes for the prisoners of war.

@chainsawsangel@mischiefmanaged71@depressedperson88 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan@yentroucnagol@tssf-imagines@nightdiamond8663 @lauraneedstochill @unleashthelion @helaenaluvr @omgkatherine01 @launotfound @r0segard3n @queenofshinigamis @helaelaemond

#tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #wof #world on fire #smut #tom bennett fanfiction #ewan mitchell #angst #fluff #world on fire 1x06 #gone with regret #usermyfandomprompts #gone with regrets

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pascallllllll1 · 1 year

Text

“I Thought I Lost You”

König x f!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: smut, typical cod violence, feel free to let me know anything else I might of missed!

The blades are still whipping around hazardously, landing gears nowhere near touching the tarmac when König’s large frame jumps from the helicopter landing straight into a sprint once his boots make contact with base grounds. He sees you sprinting towards him and slows himself down to a steadier pace to catch you, wrapping you up against his broad torso. The overwhelming scent of blood and detritus fills your senses. For a brief moment König wishes he could squish you inside him, carry you with him always before silently chastising himself for such a ridiculous thought.

Much quicker than he’d prefer your bodies are separating, before König has time to dwell you’ve already reached for his hand fingers intertwining as if it was a simple action that’d been practised on many occasions previously. (It had not.) You proceed to zone out your fellow combatants as you lead the confused but obedient Austrian towards his private barracks.

For the first time ever, the possibility of losing König and him not being some invincible beast of a war machine, immune to a death sentence similar to the many ones he served others, became painfully real. In reality he’s just a man. Men and women die everyday in your line of work and there’s no way around it, but for some naive or optimistic reason you’d excluded König from the group of people you had come to terms with having to mourn someday.

The mission hadn’t been one of huge concern regarding Königs safety, yes there’s always the possibility something unplanned could go down, but nothing raised any alarms for you three days prior while listening to the confident Captain Price brief Kortac and 141. The task at hand was simple. Infiltrate a decently guarded building to retrieve vital documents for Laswell, then get out. After securing what you’d come for, König and Bravo team were cleared to move out of the old office building and regroup with the rest of the team including yourself at the evac site ten clicks out. You’d been hidden amongst thick shrubbery at a high vantage point watching the mission unfold down the sight of your scope, ghost silent and stiff by your side when the command was given over the comms. Before anyone had the chance to reply to the Captain a previously undetected bomb planted on the main floor on the building goes off, causing the structure to break apart and crumble down at the loss of its foundation. Smoke and dust rise from the rubble. A god awful ringing sound brings you back down to earth.

“König… no.. nonononononono.” Slinging your sniper rifle over your back you tried to run to him before a strong grip on your shoulders pulled you back in place with a gruff, I’m sorry kid. Ghost radio’s Price to inform him of eight armoured vehicles rapidly approaching the site. With over half the team buried beneath debris, Price makes the difficult call to continue on to the evac site. Once all remaining soldiers are clear from the area and safe they’ll be able to regroup and call in medevac. You knew leaving König behind was wrong, that you were betraying him, it broke your heart.

Hours after returning to base you’re sat outside hunched over on a crate with a smoke in hand when the medevac team notifies they’re on route to base with surviving soldiers, seven casualties reported as well. You look up at the clouds above, shielding your eyes from the bright sun with your unoccupied hand waiting for a glimpse of König coming back to you— if he was coming back to you.

•••

As you lead your best friend through the many twists and turns that are military base hallways you can’t help but think about what you’d be doing at this moment if he hadn’t come home to you. If you never got the chance to tell him how much you love and cherish him with every fibre of your being. If you never got to experience sharing a life with König, maybe even a family down the line, who knows? One thing’s for certain, you need him by your side.

The door to König’s room swings open before you slam it back shut after pulling said person past the threshold and flipping the heavy lock in place. You spin around to face König, hands patting him down checking for injuries, they move to cup his masked face and your eyes mirror his own glossy ones. He reaches up and begins removing his helmet and diy sniper hood. You like to joke that he’s cosplaying real snipers such as yourself to tease him— but if anyone else ever attempted to make fun of him for it, there’d be hell to pay. There’s been rare occasions when König removed his hood for you in the past, of course you’d seen his face before but every time felt so short and far between each other it’s hard to remember all the beautiful little details. Hood now gone, you wish you had more time to appreciate it before your hands resume their lingering paths over his body. König leans into your touch, head tilted down at you.

“Please,” you plead, big doe eyes begging him for it. Your hands grip the top straps of his tac vest tugging him closer.

“I need you. König i-I thought that was it, I thought.. I lost you. I need you… show me you’re still here with me.”

König gulps. The internal battle within his head is rapidly nearing its conclusion between desperately fighting to keep you in his life, and if that despite what König wishes for is best achieved by remaining friends then so be it, or saying fuck it and seize the chance to possibly turn the friendship you both share into the loving relationship he’s daydreamed about non stop since meeting you at risk of losing it. His mind is made up the moment he feels your lips meet the sweet spot right under the right side of his jaw.

König instinctively shoots his hand up to the back of your neck, fingers sliding through your soft silky hair before digging in and pulling hard. König closes his eyes and leans down to drag his large defined nose across your cheek until his plump lips meet the shell of your ear,

“I’ve wanted you for so long süße Mädchen.” Causing a shiver to shoot down your spine, you lean up closer to him, his warm breath ghosting over your lips waiting impatiently for you to kiss him.

“I’m so sorry for leaving you.” You confess.

König groans softly as he braces his free arm on the door by your head, the sound makes a echoing thud, the other is still tangled within your hair. You’re surrounded by him.

“Don’t apologise to me. You kept yourself safe, that's all I ask of you—“

“I love you.” You cut him off. He holds eye contact with you until it becomes too intense and breaks it off with his lips hungrily chasing after your own. In a quick, ever efficient manner König’s hoisting you off your feet and into his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist as you’re carried to his narrow bed. You can’t help but wonder how the hell this giant of a man sleeps comfortably in it, you’d bet that he doesn’t. The springs squeak from under you when you land, bouncing a little on impact. König makes himself comfortable standing at the end of the bed between your legs, tall frame towering over you as you sit up to begin unbuckling his belt. He tries speaking before he’s cut off by you freeing him from the restraint of his briefs pushing the fabric down his long legs to step out of, your hand instantly finds its way to his throbbing member, thumb circling the head of his cock smirring around the dribbles of pre cum.

“I-if it wasn’t clear…uGH-“ König gasps out trying to regain control of himself. “I love you too, liebling.”

Both your eyes meet as you change your ministries, giving him a few tight gripped strokes.

“I know.” The smile you send him has his palms sweating and heart racing.

Lust fuelled motives have König switching up the current pace of things, his growing desire for you clouding his mind from any other thoughts than his need to be inside you and feel your soft walls clenching down on him.

König, gaining more confidence in himself, climbs onto the bed trapping you under him. He hiked both your legs high up his torso, the head of his cock drags teasingly over your clit before he’s reaching down and lining himself up, pushing just the head in before pausing. You’re confused initially when he doesn’t immediately slide in, separating your gaze from his member resting at your entrance, looking up at him you see König placing a hand on either side of your head, white-knuckled grip. You have an exciting idea of what’s to come next and in preparation for it you wrap yourself around him tight and brace for impact.

The air is knocked out of your lungs in one hard thrust of his hips leaving you gasping for it to be returned. Your head is thrown back into König’s pillow surrounding you in his woodsy scent and helping distract you from your love’s massive length filling you completely down to the thick base. König gives a few shallow thrusts to help you adjust comfortably to his size before pulling back and increasing the speed the louder the sounds spilling from your parted lips become.

The sounds coming from König sound so primal. All guttural moans, raspy breaths and whimpers that have you dripping with wetness. Your juices soak his cock and run down his heavy, full balls. You dig the heels on your feet further into his back, grasping at any and all parts of him you can reach.

You’re on cloud nine.

“Mein mädchen,” König’s thrust are becoming more desperate and sloppy. “Mien gut mädchen.. bitte. Bitte für mich!” He begs.

“Touch me, please baby I’m so close, I need you!”

Like the good little soldier he is, König follows your command and crashes his mouth against yours bringing you in for a passion filled kiss to make up for the words he lacks to explain how strongly he feels for you. He outstretches a hand down to play with your pretty little clit with vigour bringing your rapidity approaching release forth.

“Ja just like that.. Ja.Ja.Komm mit mir-“ together you fall over that waterfall of pleasure, crashing and running through you like rough waters and drowning in the warmth of each other’s bodies.

Glistening in sweat and still deep in the after sex foggy haze König remains cock semi hard stuffed inside you, shifting his head down to rest against your chest to enjoy the thump of your heart beating for him. Just as his does for you.

“Ich liebe dich, so sehr.” His voice barely even whispers.

“I love you too.”

Later, quickly you decided. You’d both have plenty of time later to discuss everything. Right now you just wanted to enjoy the weighted Austrian blanket currently draped over you.

Ahhh! I haven’t posted in a while and this was kind of just something I wanted to share that I enjoyed writing. This is my first time writing for König or any COD characters, as well as only my second time writing smut, so I’m sorry in advance if something sounds wrong or off!

Also I’m still not taking requests, maybe I will again eventually just not atm! Sorry!🫶🏼

#könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig smut #könig #könig cod #könig x y/n #könig x you

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