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dark-nautica-2 · 10 months

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Downtime Dismas

#dismas if youre reading it i am free on Thursday #i mean i am free to hang out on Thursday if you are #on Thursday. i am free #dismas #darkest dungeon #suggestive

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dark-nautica-2 · 11 months

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𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋

summary > you saw miguel’s fangs once upon a time, and you’re dying to see them again: up close and personal.

cws > afab!reader (no prns used). miguel is a bit rough — nothing srs though.

You had been curious about Miguel’s fangs ever since you had first saw them.

It had only been once, when he had lost his temper with one of the many Spider-man’s lurking about and shouted at him. They had sprung from his gums in an instant, razor sharp and so incredibly long, and retreated just as fast when his eyes had wandered to your shocked face.

That had been weeks ago, and you had yet to see them since despite your incessant pleas for him to bring them out. He denied you with a blunt ‘no’ every time, coupled with an expression that screamed at you to drop the subject and never speak of it again, but just like everyone else, you rarely took the man serious.

Perhaps that’s why you had finally saw them again a bit sooner than anticipated.

~

“I learned a new trick, Miguel. Do you wanna see it?” You question as you bounce on the balls of your feet, excitement littering your voice as you stand in front of his prized platform. He’s focused on one of the screens, and you vaguely recognize Gwen on one of the monitors. “Miguel!”

“I’m busy.”

“Tch. You’re always busy.” Your arms cross over your chest, stretchy material of your suit moving with your every action. “You’d think the head honcho would have a bit of time for his newest member—the baby of the bunch, if you will.”

“Baby Spider.” Peter B. offers, and you shoot him a grin from underneath your mask before turning back to face Miguel.

“That’s a stupid nickname.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a tad more original than the ever constant Spider-man, isn’t it?” He cuts his eyes at you, and you heave a sigh as you step onto his platform, a tingle starting at the back of your neck. “Just look at it, Miguel! I’ve been practicing and I think you’ll really like it. It’ll only take a second!”

He fully turns to the monitors, completely ignoring you, and your face contorts in anger as you extend your hand out, multiple tingles now running up and down your spine. You had meant to release a web and cover his screen, a very, very minor inconvenience to showcase your frustration, but you were still getting the hang of things, and the web ended up knocking over a piece of equipment.

It tumbled to the floor, a loud crash sounding as it landed, and ended up pulling a host of wires and cords with it, the sound of something short circuiting reaching your ears before the room was enveloped in darkness.

“Oops. Sorry—!” There’s a strong gust of air, and then sharp nails are digging into your cheeks as your head is forced back, giving you no other option but to stare up into a menacing sneer. Your eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, and Miguel’s fangs are in full view, the twin points nearly piercing his lower lip with how far they protrude.

His breath fans your face with every harsh pant, and his eyes, red and crazed, bore into yours as he towers over you, shoulders hunched and muscles tensed. Your body is tingling all over, your senses telling you to get the hell out of dodge and fast — but this is Miguel, even if he looks more akin to a savage beast who’s cornered it’s prey in this moment, and you’re not scared of him. . . quite the opposite, really.

“Predictable.” He lisps out, and your breath hitches when he moves his face to your neck, fangs trailing along the length of your throat. They’re sharp, incredibly so, and they’re coated in some kind of cold fluid that has a sickly sweet smell to it. “I rough you up a bit and you get wet between the legs.”

“And that’s my queue. See ya, Baby Spider.” Peter B. makes his exit just on time, because in the next second, Miguel’s got you spread across his table that had been once full of equipment. His hand flicks out, and you let out a breathless little gasp when his claws slide out.

“Don’t move.” Not waiting to see if you’d follow the command or not, he slices through the material of your suit, ignoring the way you squeal and whine about it being ‘brand new’, mumbling out how he ‘hated the design anyways’. Your rebuttal dies in your throat when he traps the material of his glove between his teeth and rips it off with a jerk of his chin, his now bare fingers moving down to slip through your slick folds, calloused digits circling around your clit once before spreading apart your puffy lips.

His lips purse, and your thighs move to jerk closed, but he slaps his hands down on them and keeps your legs spread, head lowering as he spits a glob of spit onto your cunt, eyes flicking up to take in the way your face scrunches up and heat fills your cheeks.

“Miguel,” you turn your head, and he lets out a grunt before his head is dipping lower and he’s a licking a stripe up your slit, wide tongue flattening over your hole and clit as he drags it upwards. Your toes curl, his gaze burning into you, and a whine leaves your mouth when he suddenly straightens up to his full height, hands leaving your thighs to instead push the hem of his pants down and fish his cock out.

“Hold yourself open for me.”

The threat of someone walking into the room (which was still clouded in darkness, but with a building full of spiders, that wasn’t really an issue) flashes through your mind, but any last minute attempt at modesty is quickly discarded when his hand strokes up and down the length of his shaft before he drops it, the heavy weight of it forcing it to hang between his legs, the brown, uncut tip leaking a steady line of pre-cum.

“Escuchar,” his fingers, wet with your arousal, tap your cheek. “Hold your legs open, chula.” You fumble to cup the backs of your knees and spread your legs, blinking up at him, and you clench around nothing when his fangs glint at you — they’ve shortened in length but are still visible when he parts his lip to mumble something out in his native tongue, and you feel a new wave of slick drool out of you with each glance of them. “I can practically taste you in the air.” He rasps, and you choke on a moan when he lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a creamy squelch, pussy struggling to accommodate to his girth. “Y’wanted too see them that bad, huh?”

His fingers push into your cheeks again, claws retracted, and he tilts your head back as he cants his hips forward, cock slipping in deeper and deeper until his balls, plump and full, press against the curve of your ass. You nod as best you can, pussy tightening around him when he begins to pull out, as if begging him to stay nestled inside.

“Tell you what,” Miguel licks the pad of his thumb, and then he’s placing it on your clit and rubbing, other fingers splayed across your mound as he thrusts in and out of you. “You milk my cock real nice and I’ll think about letting you play around with them.”

No more words are exchanged between the two of you as he picks up his pace until he’s slamming into you. Sex with Miguel is nearly always rough; cock pounding into you, balls slapping against you, hands digging into the meat of your hips, waist, ass, sometimes even squeezing at the sides of your neck if he’s in a particular mood — you love it, it’s apparent in the way you make a mess on his cock, a white, frothy ring of your cum encircling the base.

“Mn, fuck,” you cry out, tears hanging onto your lashes as your thighs burn from holding them up for so long. You can feel your grip slipping, clammy palms and sweaty thighs not mixing well, but before your legs can fall, Miguel slaps your hands away so he’s the one cupping under your knees, and shoves them up into your chest, his right foot coming to balance on the edge of the table as he fucks you at a different angle.

The change of position allows him to fuck into you deeper, and you voice your approval, moans and cries of his name leaving you at different levels, hands pulling and tugging at the sleeves of his suit as you babble incoherently.

You can feel the band in your stomach threatening to snap—growing tighter and tighter as he rolls his hips into yours. Miguel is groaning and grunting in Spanish, and when your name leaves his mouth in a strained moan, you’re clamping down tight around him, pussy creaming around him.

His eyebrows draw together, mouth dropping open, and your fingers lock around the back of his thick neck as you tug him down. He relents, too busy chasing his own orgasm to fight, and you press your lips to his, tongue pushing past his lips to run against a sharp fang.

His eyes roll, and then his cock is throbbing inside you, spurts of warm cum spilling inside you as you keep rubbing your tongue along his tooth. His nails bite into the soft skin of your thighs, the excess cum seeping out around from where he’s stuffed inside you.

He wrenches his mouth away from yours with a hiss, a line of spit keeping your lips connected until your tongue runs along your bottom lip and breaks it, a sparkle shimmering in your eye as your eyes lock with his.

“So,” you pant, chest rapidly rising and falling with your labored breathing. “Does this mean I can ‘play around’ with you later?” Miguel smirks, and your eyebrows raise as you blink down at where he’s still buried inside you, feeling him harden inside you.

“Later, yeah, but you’ve still got something you need to do, baby spider.”

~

#i dont. i dont wanna talk about it #its so deliciously written god #spiderverse

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dark-nautica-2 · 11 months

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have this i guess

#suggestive

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dark-nautica-2 · 11 months

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C'mon, you know you want to...

#ARHARHASGAGSTA I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW AM HOLY SHIT??#hes so squeaky in thw most positive meaning ofnthenwords #ur line art is sooo clean too wtff #am #IHNMAIMS

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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My AM Human design is just Harlan

#discord mutual art spotted!!#im addicted to the orange accents frrrrrrrrrr #and the greying mmmmm yea #am #ihnmaims

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader

— warnings: nsfw content ! bondage, rope, ptrick bateman, p in v, mentions of murderous urges

summary: There's a thin line between pleasure and pain. Patrick lets you walk that line — if anyone else did, it would snap.

"Do you like it?”

Patrick’s voice is sultry, calm; a lewd illusion of the man he is, the desire which consumes him. Being bound to his bed with rope is surreal - you squirm under his cool touch, trying to hide the discomfort which pulsates through you.

“It’s different.” Your voice is hoarse, but you’re honest, and Patrick grins in response. “It feels too tight.”

“I could’ve made it tighter.” Patrick's breath fans your neck, and you’re suddenly more aware of how out-of-place he looks. Whilst you’re naked, splayed in front of him ready to be devoured, he’s fully dressed in a Valentino, classic charcoal, pinstriped double-breasted suit. His suited arms reach up towards your bound wrists, and your eyes flitter shut as you imagine what he would look like naked - how his arms would flex as he loosens the rope slightly. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Patrick.”

His hum of approval vibrates through you, as his fingers dart over your thighs, before slowly trailing toward your cunt. “I want to do terrible things to you. Do you know that? I want to—“ Patrick’s fingers shake slightly and his voice wavers, his digits darting over your slits and finding a home in your cunt. “—I want to ruin you.”

“But you won’t.” Your eyes squeeze shut as his fingers curl inside you, his hand growing slick with your wetness. Satisfied squelches echo across his bedroom, and your stomach tightens with each come hither motion of his fingers.

“But I won’t.” Patrick agrees, letting out a shaky breath that jitters against your neck. “Because when I start ruining you, I’m not going to be able to stop. I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead and maybe at the end of it all, you would be.”

“So I’m spared,” you breathe, a broken mewl slipping past your lips as Patrick’s fingers effortlessly flicker you closer and closer to an orgasm. There is an imaginary coil inside of you, and it feels as though it is going to snap - the ever-growing pressure on the special spot inside of your cunt is constant, and his motions are consistent, specialized. “You’ll spare me?”

“I’ll do more than spare you. I’m going to fuck you like I love you and maybe I do, but then again, maybe I don’t.”

The crassness of his voice, the harshness of his words, and the overwhelming stimulant of his fingers fucking you so good is what sends you over the edge. The coil snaps - breaks in half, sending shockwaves of electricity pulsing through you, your legs shaking as Patrick continues to toy with your cunt, a bored expression on his face.

“My suit is drenched in your cum.” Patrick comments, slathering your wet against your thighs and stomach, crinkling his nose as he gently begins to undress himself. “Remind me to take this to the dry-cleaners, later.”

The conversation is so… nonchalant, so familiar. He talks to you like he’d talk to a lover - but are you his partner or just his plaything? Cold engulfs you and you shiver, but Patrick tuts, his cock hard and red as he nestles himself between your thighs.

“You’re cold.” He notes.

“I am.” You reply.

Patrick is odd - weird, a loser, but he consumes you. All you can think of day and night is Patrick, his slender fingers and skillful tongue, his angry and red cock which stuffs you perfectly and leaves you forever wanting. “What are you doing?”

Patrick’s fingers toy with the rope on your wrists. “Are they still too tight?”

“No. You fixed them earlier.” It makes your face flush when his cock presses against your slits, somehow perfectly aligned with your clit as he reaches further forward to loosen the restraints a tiny bit more. “Patrick-“

“I think you’re the only person I could ever love,” Patrick interrupts randomly with a mumble, repositioning himself and opening your thighs slightly wider. “If I tried. I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?”

Is he talking to you or himself? You don’t know anymore, letting him ramble on as he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. And it’s amazing - of course - it’s instant ecstasy because you were made for him, and he for you. You sheath him perfectly - and a broken moan bubbles up your throat as he snaps his hips slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in thought and his fingers digging into your thighs, his grip so tight it’s going to leave behind bruises.

“I will never hurt you.” Patrick tells himself - reassures himself, because you know it’s a lie as he’s hurting you right now. All he does is hurt you, leaves you insecure and violated, feeling guilty for the marks you’ve let him leave behind, feeling anguish as he leaves you for his skanky fiancé, night after night. “I will never hurt you. I can’t. I won’t. Do you hear me?”

Quiet gasps leave you as Patrick peppers gentle kisses against your chest. He groans into your skin as he fucks you, his balls heavy and sore as they smack into your ass. The rhythm he has is perfect - hard and slow, and the curve of his cock hits the special spot inside of you and it just feels so, so good. Everything feels amazing - feels perfect. You’re engulfed in him, the scent of his cologne and the nestling of his cock inside of you, and what have you done to deserve this?

“Do you hear me?” Patrick is slightly breathless, his eyes somewhat starry, and he looks down at you with something that could resemble adoration. And you gaze back, lovingly, because you love him, and you nod your head, but you don’t hear him - not really, because you’re too focused on feeling him.

And he feels good. It’s like you’re milking his cock - so tight and clenched down around him as the imaginary coil begins to wither away, your belly growing warm with each snap of his hips. “I want that, Patrick.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he tells himself as he tugs on the rope, leaving your skin burning in its wake. “I won’t.”

You can hear him. It’s a battle with himself. There is a thin line between pleasure and pain with Patrick, and he lets you walk that line. And he will continue to let you do so. Because you walk it prim and proper. You’re so focused on his words; "I could be a good husband, you know, a good father. Do you want that?" that you don’t care when he grips your face so hard it feels like your cheekbones are going to smash and your skull is going to turn into putty.

“Patrick," you gasp, incoherent as you feel his cum begin to fill you. "I want all of you.”

taglist: @makeyoumine69

#american psycho #nsft #patrick bateman

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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CHRISTIAN BALE as Patrick Bateman American Psycho (2000) dir. Mary Harron

#hnrg.#patrick bateman ass envy real #the things i wanna do to his hole.........#SORRY #suggestive #patrick bateman #american psycho #i reblogged this to my main earlier fkvhgjfvskv AUGH

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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CHRISTIAN BALE as Patrick Bateman American Psycho (2000) dir. Mary Harron

#nobody talk to me.#american psycho #patrick bateman #this is like #suggestive

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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This is how the audio drama went

#ICANT #hfjsncnnejgj3iw #ihnmaims #am

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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Patrick Bateman NSFW alphabet pls? 🥺 love your work btw ❤️❤️❤️

Patrick Bateman NSFW Alphabet

Oki!

(Requests and Matchups: OPEN)

(CW: NSFW, Brief discussion of sadism, degradation, choking, bondage, biting, face-fucking, and Patrick being really into stockings and high heels)

A=Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Might stay afterward to either talk to you for a few minutes or he'll fall asleep next to you.

Offers you ice cream and a glass of water since that's literally the only things he has in his fridge.

B=Body Part (Their favorite part of their partner's body)

Legs.

He has a thing for high heels and stockings. Whenever you wear either one of those things it gives him a chance to admire how beautiful you are. (Also gives him a boner...)

C=Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

Likes cumming on your thighs and face.

He's kinda concerned about having children since he doesn't think it would reflect his image so he avoids anything child related at all costs.

D=Dirty Secret

Wants you to dominate him

He absolutely loves the idea of you putting him in his place but he's not sure how you'll react to hearing that.

He also really wants you to slap him while he's fucking you

E= Experience (How much do they have?)

A good amount, he get's sexually pent up constantly so he spends most of his time outside of work either watching porn or having sex.

Though just be aware that he doesn't have any concern for his sexual partner and will only focus on his pleasure unless you tell him otherwise.

F= Favorite Position

Depends on your relationship with him but if you're together then it will most likely be missionary and if you're FWB or a one-night stand then he'll fuck you from behind.

G= Goofy (How are they in the moment? Are they more serious or humorous?)

Dangerously serious

He'll give you a death stare while he fucks you if you so much as laugh during sex

H= Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Is very well-groomed and makes sure that it doesn't grow out too long. (Definitely has a ruler so that he can measure the hair)

I=Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Gives you kisses and hickies but he struggles with embracing you during the moment and he usually fucks you roughly so he does come off as cold, but if he's still with you then in some form he does love you.

Runs his hands through your hair afterwards and praises you.

J=Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

All. The. Time.

Though he prefers jerking off when he's on the phone with you so that he can hear your pretty voice as you tell him about your day.

K=Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Sadism, Bondage, Biting, Degradation, Chocking, and praise(depending on the day)

L=Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere as long as it doesn't compromise his reputation.

Fantasizes about fucking you in his office when nobody is there.

M=Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Dressing up/wearing well-put-together outfits.

Wearing makeup, specifically red lipstick.

Running your nails up and down his chest and lower abdomen.

Wearing tight clothes that show off your ass also really gets him going.

N=No (Something they won't do, turn-offs)

Watersports, DDLG, Wax play, Extreme asphyxiation

O=Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Absolutely loves getting a blowjob and every time he throat fucks you until you're crying and your makeup ruined.

When he does go down on you(Very rare), he'll do it till you can't take it anymore and your body begins to convulse. He's super gentle but it gets intense because of how long he does it.

P=Pace (Fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Rough and fast all the way.

Unless he's on a hospital bed, there's no way he won't fuck you as rough and as fast as he possibly can.

Sometimes when he's tired he'll fuck you deeper and slower but even then he's not very gentle.

Q=Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

YES.

He's constantly booking reservations so he doesn't have time to have long sessions with you

R=Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Doesn't take any risks since he's worried about getting caught and also if he's trying to impress you it's not likely that he's going to try new things that dive more into sadism.

S=Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they usually last?)

He can go for around 3 rounds, each of them ranging from 10-15 minutes.

Sometimes he lasts longer if he gets distracted by his muscles in the mirror.

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them?)

He's way too confident in himself to think that he'd need anything else other than his dick and his hands.

U=Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

Kind of, sometimes he'll call you at random and talk to you about how much he wants to fuck you.

Most of the time it is unintentional because he was around shirtless and he doesn't really notice the way he acts since he always hangs out around other men.

V=Volume (How loud they are, what kind of noises do they make, etc.)

He talks more than he moans.

Either has or will fuck you while talking about Chris de Burgh and other gifted artists that he deems ahead of their time.

W= Wild Card (Random headcanon)

He has came in his pants without you touching him just from him listening to your moans and yelps.

X=X-Ray

He's around 6.5 inches and he knows how to use it.

If you're angry with him you can manipulate him into thinking that his dick is below average and he'll get upset about it. (He's semi insecure)

Y=Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very very high.

He can fuck you every day of the week for hours on end and he'll do it happily.

Z=ZZZ... (How fast do they fall asleep afterward?)

He can fall asleep 30 minutes to an hour afterwards

Leaves afterwards unless you trap him in your arms and you play with his hair.

#um. hi. patrick bateman #nsft

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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hi! could you write some patrick bateman smut where he edges a sub reader, makes them beg to cum and basically gives them false hope that he’ll allow them to, before he ends up just edging them again? if not, it’s completely fine! tysm!

hi anon! i'd be glad to do this for ya!

we'll both be sorry 💼

NSFW | Word Count: 845 | Patrick Bateman x AFAB Reader (no gendered pronouns used)

contains edging, spitting, slapping, overstimulation, masochism, biting, humiliation, as always mr. bateman comes as his own warning

You tried to take a breath to speak, to cry for him to let you have it. Like an under stimulated animal with a plaything that wasn’t doing anything for him, he was staring through you as his hand merely pulled back and forth, no finesse to how he was playing with your clit or even how his fingers would sit within your walls in the slowing motions.

He was almost sneering, like it was nothing to him, and you weren’t sure when he had stopped enjoying this. Did he even enjoy it to begin with?

You were thinking a thousand reasons as to why he should at once, your breath picking up in place of the rush of murmurs you had been giving mere moments ago. He’s never had a problem with losing restraint, what’s a little slip to let you fall apart? Didn't he want to see you a goddamn mess on his floor?

When you finally mustered the function to speak, the only thing that came out was a low complaint: “Y-ee-eeees? Are you stopping? Come on, come on-“ His hand fell from your body, still soaking as his palm then collided with your face. While the movement was instant, bending away from him from the force, your reaction was buried under another long pause. The burning was the kind that made you bear your teeth, face stinging fiercely like the soft wings of a moth to an uncovered flame. Your muscles were clenching hard to try and chase a ghost of the high that it released.

You nearly crossed your eyes as you whined, “Patrick, you fuck-!”

His thumb, index, and middle made a V to secure your jaw, turning your head sharply to look him in the eye. “Shut the hell up before I sever your tongue from your mouth.” Every punctuation was accented with his other hand coming up to twist the delicate skin of your nipple, and you withstood the pain with a brittle shiver, falling to silence again.

Like an attack from all ends of the spectrum, you relished in how much you were hurting: your face was hot from impact, jaw ached with a trembling pressure that he wouldn’t let up on until someone’s bones shattered, and your pussy was still aching. You didn’t even consider it’d make a difference if he kept teasing you or would graduate to fucking you tonight. The high was falling from grace fast, but you only clenched at the cold air he had left to quell your needy sounds.

“Nasty whore, you like it when I hurt you? Where did the self respect go? It's like your dignity was left at the door.” He grated, interest as piqued as it had been at the start. You merely responded with a sick huff in his face, “If biting you didn’t get my throat slit, I’d fucking do that too.”

He glared again. Then, he held his forearm up to you. “Don't be a coward, then. I’ll let you if it keeps you quiet.” You lunged with little hesitation, and even though he had insisted on it, you knew to keep the slobber at a minimum.

Suddenly, your clit was being touched again, his ministries returned to at a miserable pace that you knew he would only work up just to let go of again. The journey was worth it, teeth sinking into his pristine skin and earning a quiet moan from deep in his chest, like he was willing back his own need to tear you apart just to let you feel him and relish this moment.

Almost like he was trying to make up for something that'd never come. He saw the defeat in your expression, the teeth in his arm grinding slightly as you groaned into his breaking skin, yet they were only marks. You weren’t breaking the skin if he wasn’t going to throw your Hail Mary.

Still, his hand came back up to hold the back of your head, curious to how long you’d stay connected to him in such a way but ready to wrench you off should he see necessary.

“You’re fucking barbaric.” He spat again, making you whimper in that hedonistic desire to even take the hurt if it meant he was giving you attention. “I’ve never seen someone so ready to sink their teeth into another like this.”

You now glared up at him, biting harder as he merely smirked at the predicament forming. Still, you could see the hint of an inconvenience, a slightly pained cringe in the way his eyes creased; his hand flexing as he began to push his elbow into your throat.

When you gasped at the sudden intrusion to your windpipe, he suddenly craned his neck, not kissing but instead exerting a force against his own tongue to spit on yours.

“Dirt.” He muttered. Still, when he released your neck you merely gasped again, eyes boggling as you didn’t even care that he had stopped rubbing you.

His scrutiny was enough to keep you pinned down for weeks.

#nsft #.#i have a new hyperfixation!!!#patrick bateman

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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i hate getaway with a passion. but i KNOW that dick is GOOD. there has to be a reason why he was one of the hottest mechs aboard (according to jro anyway) sooo uh. reader rly enjoying that nasty spike?

It’s hard doing clerical work all day. It’s a cushy job most of the time, the benefits are good enough, and your skill set is perfect for it. But the mechs are the most infuriating, frustrating, unpredictable part of it. The part that you can’t just push off until later or snap at. You would rather take your chances back sassing Ultra Magnus than any of the volatile mecha onboard the Lost Light.

The worst of them all: Getaway.

You can’t really put your digit on why he’s the worst. He’s charming and funny most of the time, he proclaims to hold Autobot values very close, and he’s well-liked. But in your experience, he can also be passive-aggressive and pushy. It’s not that he strong-arms you into anything, but… You’ve certainly learned he won’t take no for an answer. Even though you try to be as friendly and accommodating as possible, sometimes you just don’t have the solution crew members are looking for. No matter how many appeals they file.

You get the feeling Getaway thinks he can charm his way into anything if he tries hard enough. Maybe he thinks other mechs’ minds are just a lock that needs particular picking. Maybe he’s just not used to being told no. Either way, you don’t know how you gave him the impression you would want to sleep with him, but when he offers to bend you over your own desk for a hard frag…

It’s hard to say no when you’re forced to watch the most handsome mechs you’ve ever seen walk around the ship like their frames aren’t optic candy. So many handsome mechs and you’re so sure that your (unofficial) position as Magnus’ assistant makes all of them off limits. One bad decision in your tenure can’t be firing worthy.

Getaway’s thrusts shudder and jolt the precious silly novelty items on your desk, scattering your neat stack of datapads. If you had taken a moment to think through your decision, you would’ve put all your items away into your desk. That stupid Rodimus-shaped rubber duck (a present from the mech himself) topples to the floor with a mournful quack. You catch the barely stifled chuckle from Getaway, but you don’t think it’s very funny. You like that duck.

Offlining your optics, you focus on his spike inside you. It’s an agonizingly perfect fit, fucking into that soft spot inside your valve that’s somehow so difficult to find with digits alone. You meant to buy a false spike ages ago, but it slips your processor every time. It doesn’t help that your habsuite is smack dab in the middle of the hotspot for battles whenever there’s rogue Decepticons, or sparkeaters, or evil sentient plants that come out of a rift in reality that Brainstorm created. Using Getaway’s spike would be a much nicer, cheaper replacement for relief. Assuming he doesn’t make you buy him a drink first. Swerve’s prices haven’t gotten any cheaper.

Even though he’s clearly just as cocky about how he fucks as he is at his most renowned skill, Getaway certainly has a reason to be. Two of his slender digits press firm circles into your anterior node, completely neglecting your dripping spike, as he fills your valve. You’re entirely focused on humping his circling digits, the added pressure of having him inside you just pushes you closer to overload. His thrusts deep and rapid. It’s difficult to voice it, in fact you would rather die than say it, but you want him to keep fucking you through your overload. Into however many subsequent overloads he would deign to give you, toppling through them like dominos. The bite of your own desk against your hip plates, your servos clutching desperately at the edges, knowing a mech could walk in and see you, it’s a euphoria you want to clutch onto. You want Getaway to wear you down with the pleasure, use your valve until his transfluid drips down your thigh plating.

Clerical work is so thankless, all you want is one good night cycle to get you through it.

#GROWL GROWL BARK BARK HISS #GETAWAY FUCKERS WE EAT #love how snurt show dont tells readers back story and like personality #nsft #transformers #getaway

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dark-nautica-2 · 1 year

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