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verstappen-cult · 3 months

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GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant. BONUS. . . lance stroll.

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

it stared with a couple of innocent kisses in lando’s driver room before the race. you don’t usually engage in that kind of behavior at least until after a race, but lando was feeling a little under the weather and while you were only trying to comfort him, he had other plans. and, well, if that makes him feel better you won’t deny him a little bit of fun. now, you’re straddling your boyfriend’s thighs, it’s hot and you want to rip your top and his fireproofs off, and lando, as always, is one step ahead of you. his hands slip under your shirt, the pad of his fingers softly caressing your skin as his lips find the pulse point on your neck. you don’t know if the whimper you hear belongs to you or lando, the only thing you know is that the race can wait a few minutes.

“lando it’s time to g–” you don’t hear the end of the sentence because lando’s race engineer it’s too stunned to finish speaking. you’re quick to jump off of your boyfriend’s lap, but you’ve been caught and it’s impossible to deny what you were doing, there’s evidence on yours and lando’s face. the man just laughs and closes the door, saying something about keeping his head clear of any distraction.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

you were just trying to help charles clean his shirt after you spilled your drink on top of him. but he was so close to you, his breath tickling your cheek and sending a shiver down your spine, and it just happened. the kiss was shy at first, both of you uncertain of what you were doing. but then you were being lifted up by charles and sat down on the sink, legs immediately parting to make room for him. you didn’t care that you were in dani’s guest bathroom and anyone could walk in on you, you also didn’t care when charles’ hands found your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh while his mouth kept the assault in yours, neither did you care when those same hands lifted your dress up, up and up until you could clearly feel the effect your kisses were making on him.

you were ready to ask charles to do something when the door opened startling you both. charles stepped away and you jumped off the sink, trying to brush your hair and looked presentable to the owner of the house who was now looking at you, surprise written all over his face before bursting out laughing. “guys! you won’t believe this!” it only took a panicked looked between you and charles for the boy to sprint down the hallway to try and shut his friend up.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

you don’t know if australia has something in the air or if being in oscar’s childhood bedroom is making you feel a certain way. but the second the door closes, you’re leading him to the bed. oscar is a little uncertain at first and looks like he’s about to say something, but the words die in his throat the moment your lips find his. he doesn’t wait a minute in taking control, and lays you down on the bed, his body on top of yours. then your impromptu kissing session it’s not enough, you need to feel him closer, you want his hands everywhere.

“would you like some lemonade?” it’s too late for you to pretend to be doing something else than being in an intense making out session when oscar’s mom, the woman you’ve just met that same day, opens the door. when she sees the scene, she quickly closes her eyes, hiding behind her hands. it would make you laugh if it were any other situation. oscar doesn’t move but looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “i did not see a thing!” you would pretty much prefer for the earth to swallow you whole than to face the woman again.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

it’s not max’s fault that you look so, so good in that damn dress that all he wants is to rip it off of you. if the FIA gala wasn’t so important—it’s not. not for him, at least—he would get out of there immediately. instead, he has to settle with crowding you against a wall in a secluded corner of the building when he finally has some time for you. he can barely keep his hands to himself, and is touching you even before you can feel his lips against yours. max whispers sweet nothings as his lips go from your mouth to your neck and then up again, making you feel dizzy. he lifts your dress up around your thighs, and you allow him access in a heartbeat, not caring about anything but how addicting his kisses are.

“ejem,” a cough makes max pull away, and doesn’t hesitate on shielding your body with his, giving you enough time to fix up your clothes. “we’re next.” christian horner tries to look at anywhere but you, and you don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or feel ashamed. both, probably. max dismisses him with a simple nod of his head, and once you’re alone, max goes back to what he was doing before. you still have a few minutes to spare, he says.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

you were having the time of your life choosing an outfit for a party next week, your boyfriend waiting for you just outside the changing room; you actually were focused on trying to zip up a beautiful black dress you had chosen when the door opened, revealing alex with a mischievous smile on his face. as quick as he opened it, he closed it behind him. you didn’t question him, it’s definitely not the first time he’s done something like this, so, you, more than happy, welcomed him with open arms and a set of pink and plump lips. and alex is immediately swiping his tongue across your bottom lip and kissing your properly—kissing you so slow while gently cupping your face, trying to take as much as he wants from you, and you’re ready to give it to him freely.

“is someone there?” a girl’s voice startles you both, but before you can think of hiding alex or saying something—not that you can with your boyfriend’s mouth against yours—she’s opening the door. neither you nor alex know what to do other than to stay very still and very quiet, as if that would make the girl forget what she saw.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

you told daniel that hiding in the airplane bathroom to make out wasn’t a good idea, but you still got up and went voluntarily when he gave you the signal. waiting for him to knock was torture, you were pretty sure you were going to get caught. but when you opened the door and your boyfriend pulled you in to finally kiss you, you forgot about everything. the way daniel kisses should be illegal—how he lets you take the lead until your kisses become sloppy and your head feels dizzy and you can’t keep up with it because it feels so good. then he takes control, gripping your waist with such force it’ll leave marks; the mere thought makes you weak in the knees.

“open up! you can’t do that in here.” a huge knock on the door makes you pull away, but daniel doesn’t let you go, chasing after you until you give up and kiss him again. this time the kisses are more intense and the tiny bathroom it’s too warm and you’re wearing too many clothes. the person behind the door is forgotten the moment daniel gets so close that you become one. you’re already in trouble, so, it’s doesn’t matter if you stay a few more minutes in there.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

kissing at clubs is not something you would’ve done in the past, not even when lights are so low and no one cares what the person next to you is doing. but ever since you started dating mick, there are a lot of things you’ve already done that you never thought you would do. and making out in a corner of the club with mick pressing against the window, his body molding into yours just in the right spots is definitely one of them. mick is practically knocking the air out of your lungs with the way he’s kissing you, and you have to hold onto his shoulders afraid of melting to the ground. you don’t know where you are, and you really don’t care as long as mick keeps kissing you like that, so you don’t push him away when you feel his hand making its way up your thigh, getting closer to where you need him the most.

but then you hear people laughing. mick pulls away first, groaning for being interrupted, but then you look around and you’re right next to the bathroom from where a group of girls are walking out. you feel all the blood in your body rushing to your face, they look amused but you want to disappear. you hide your face in your boyfriend’s chest and don’t look up until mick is the one lifting your chin up to kiss you. this time he takes your hand while saying something about going home to finish what you started.

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

it’s childish. and all of you are adults. you definitely should not be playing truth or dare in a party like thirteen years old. however, you don’t say anything when oscar dares you to spend seven minutes in the closet with logan. it’s true you both have been dancing around each other for a while now, what you didn’t know it’s that it was so obvious for everyone around you too. the cheering from your friends dies down when the door closes and you and logan are alone. you look into each other’s eyes for a minute, pure silence in the secluded space, then logan glances down at your lips and you suck in a sharp breath when you realize he’s asking for permission. your eyelashes flutter as you take a step closer, and he wraps his arms around your waist without a trace of hesitation. you’re gasping into his mouth the next second, his lips warm and soft. his fingers brush along your jaw and, in that moment, you decide this won’t be the last time you’re gonna be tasting his lips, you want to do it every hour of every day.

but then the door opens and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been burned. there are a lot of eyes looking between you and logan for a moment before someone shouts “fucking finally!” and everyone’s laughing and cheering. when you look at logan again, he has a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

★ — LANCE STROLL (18)

lance made sure you two were alone in his parent’s house before taking you in his arms and sitting on the couch. he smiles at you with the same bright and pretty smile that stole your heart one time two years ago as you run your hands through lance’s hair, down his neck and over his shoulders, letting them rest on his chest. lance grabs onto your waist and meets your lips halfway, all his body relaxing immediately. he kisses you so softly but determined, licking into your mouth when you give him access, like it’s his last day on earth and he needs you to keep breathing, surviving. you let his hands roam freely over your body and you can feel your heart pounding so hard, almost as if it’s gonna jump out of your chest and you can’t do anything about it. when your boyfriend’s hands graze your lower back for a second before grabbing your arse, a tiny mewl escapes you.

and as you’re about to grind down, “oh my god!” lance’s sister screams in surprise. you both look at her, more embarrassed than afraid. you know your cheeks and ears are as pink as the shirt you’re wearing, and you feel like your skin is actually burning. ”well, i guess we had the same thought.” she says stepping aside, her boyfriend coming into view with a shy smile on his face.

requested by @biancathecool. . . The boys (individually) Nd fem!reader getting caught making out, with the driver having thier hands shoved down their gfs pants or up their shirt 🫠❤️ Alsin if you could please add lance in this one.

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outsideratheart · 7 months

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Bees land on the prettiest flowers (Lia Wälti x reader)

A/N: A Lia fic? You’re just a surprised as I am. Also, 10 points to the first person that can tell what tv show a scene in the fic is from.

After the rush of the summer that was the World Cup and the devastation that came with crashing out the champions league before it even began, you found the air around Adidas' HQ in Germany quite refreshing. It would be your home for the next couple of weeks as you and the rest of the team focus on preparing for the upcoming season.

You had a plan this year, one which you was determined to follow if you stayed healthy. Something that wasn't part of this plan was Lia Walti.

The swiss woman caught your eye the moment she step foot in Colney yet despite the encouragement you got from your team mates and the urge to ask her out, you couldn't, in fact you would go so far as to say you bailed at every opportunity. By the time you were ready it was too late because she started dating Caitlin and you knew you couldn't let your selfishness get in the way of her happiness. It’s why you put Lia in the what if box in your head and sealed it shut. Only now the light started to shine through the box and the reason for that was because Lia and Caitlin had broken up.

It seemed that the higher powers had given you another chance but a lot had changed over the past couple of years. You and your heart wasn't the same and you weren't sure if you were ready to care about someone on a deep level.

A knock on the door brought you out of your daydreaming and as you opened it you saw Lia stood on the other side with a nervous expression on her face.

"Hello you, come in" you step aside allowing enough space for the Swiss to enter.

"Actually I was hoping you'd come out"

You both knew what she meant but the way she phrased it causes you both to burst into laughter. Once you both catch you breath Lia rephrases her sentence.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" Lia asks still standing on the threshold.

Her intentions wasn’t clear but you couldn’t turn down one on one time with her. The feelings that you once felt were still there, they were simply buried down deep.

“Sure, let me grab a hoodie and we’ll go”

“There’s no need for a hoodie. I haven’t got one”

That she hadn’t. Lia was dress is a pair of sweatshorts and a tank top. If her attire was anything to go by then it was a nice evening outside.

The weather was perfect. Not too warm but not too hot. The sky was pink but turning into a burnt orange and here you were with one of the most beautiful girls you have ever met. It made you wonder what you did in your past life that allowed to have a moment like this.

You walked past the pool saying hi the players that were watching a movie. Those on the loungers knew better than to tease you so they left you be but made a mental note to ask you about it later.

You knew Lia well almost too well because as you walked you saw her chest rise and fall but it would hitch before it falls, she was hesitating. Another tell of this was the way she opened and closed her mouth unaware that you could see the action out the corner of your eye.

It is when you walked through the perfectly maintained garden area that you decide to confront her about it. You could smell the fresh roses and you got distracted by the bright colours of each flower but it only lasted a second then your attention returns to Lia.

“What going on that head of yours?” You ask as you both stand admiring the lilies.

Lia is about to respond but the buzzing of a bee causes you to freeze. Your heartbeat doubles in pace as you watch the yellow and black insect land on her exposed chest.

“Don’t move. Stand still” you beg her.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

Lia follows your eyes which are fixed on her chest. There she sees the reason for you concern yet she doesn’t have the same response. This alone lets her swat away the bee with no hesitation.

“No! Don’t do that” the desperation in your voice and the panic in your eyes scares Lia more than the possibility of a bee sting.

“It’s only a bee”

Lia’s actions had clearly agitated the insect and you hear a buzz at a high volume before it flew away.

“Ow” Lia says calmly.

“Are you ok? Can you breathe?” You asked her but it was your shortness of breathe that was an issue.

“It’s only a sting”

“Are you sure?”

Fear consumes you as memories of the past flood your mind. Your chest feels like it’s on fire and you try and fail to bring your breathing back to a steady pace.

Lia can tell immediately that something is very wrong. In hopes of calming you down she takes your hand and holds it over the sting on her chest. She then takes her own hand holds it over your chest. It forms a connection between the two of you.

“I’m ok Y/N. It’s just a bee”

“Don’t say that!” Your concern was replaced with anger because Lia refused to see the severity of the situation “go get checked out by the doctor. Now”

You felt helpless and you knew you were no longer in control of your emotions. You needed to leave even if your heart wanted to stay with Lia.

The Swiss had no option other than to watch you walk away. She wanted to go after you but your words are loud in her head. She knew it was best for her to go see the team doctor.

As she walked back into the facility, Lia tried to make sense of your reaction. Never had she seen you react like that and even though she saw it first hand she could believe it herself.

“Did you enjoy your date?” Beth teases.

“It wasn’t a date. I just wanted some alone time with Y/N” Lia corrects the blonde forward.

“Isn’t that the definition of a date?” Jen adds.

“It doesn’t matter now. She ran off and left me by the flower beds”

This made no sense to anyone at the table especially the two blondes who you play with on the national team with.

“What happened?” Leah asks.

“We went for a walk and ended up in the gardens. I was nervous, she picked up on it and I thought she was going to ask me about it but then there was a bee and she freaked out. I think she was having a panic attack and it only got worse when it stung me”

“You got stung by a bee while Y/N was next to you?” Beth asked. She made eye contact with Leah who nodded her head, the defender would go check on you whilst Beth made sure the Lia was ok.

Leah stood in front of your door taking a couple of seconds to figure out how to handle the situation. She remembers the moment you showed up on her doorstep and went on to tell her that you had just experienced the worst day of your life.

She used her room key given that you were sharing for the trip and the sight she is met with isn’t one she could prepare for. You are laid on your bed in a fetus position. Your eyes are dry but the puffiness in your face told Leah that you had been crying.

“Y/N” she speaks in a hushed tone.

“Lia’s going to die, isn’t she?”

To anyone outside your immediate family that which included a handful of your England team mates, they would have called you dramatic. Leah was one of the select few which understand why your mind went to worse case scenario.

“She’s fine”

“I thought my dad was fine next thing I know I had these two fingers on his neck trying to find a pulse” you hold up middle and index finger.

“Y/N what happened to your dad was devastating. Nobody knew he was allergic”

“And you don’t know that Lia isn’t. I was the reason my dad died and now I’m going to be the reason she dies”

“It’s wasn’t your fault” Leah sit nexts to you on the bed “As for Lia, she is ok. She came back in to us and was going to see the doctor. Something that I’m guessing was your idea”

You nod your head. Your worrying stopped for a mere second knowing that Lia had listened to you and was hopefully getting the help she needed.

“Y/N you like Lia and have done for a while. You told her to go see the doctor but didn’t go with her, why?”

“I didn’t want to see her in pain”

“She isn’t in pain. Come with me and I’ll show you. We don’t have to talk to anyone but you need to see with your own eyes that she is ok”

Reluctantly, you agree and follow Leah through the halls of the HQ. Each step you take feels heavier than the last because in your mind you have seen how this story ends and you don’t want to see it, not again. So you took your time, you pretended to check in every room that you passed even though the blonde beside you knew exactly where the Swiss was.

Turns out Lia was in the exact same position as when Leah left her only now she has a white patch where the bee had stung her and she had some company. Out of the players one stood out to you; Caitlin.

You and Leah stood at the entry way. Just as Leah was about to walk towards the table you pulled her back.

“What? She’s fine, look” Leah tried to pull you towards your team mates despite her prior statement about not talking to anyone.

“She’s fine — with Caitlin” you could see Lia was ok but you couldn’t bring your self to watch her interact with the Aussie even if they were no longer together.

Knowing that Lia wasn’t going to face the same fate as your father lifted the crushing weight off your chest. You walked with no destination in mind. You didn’t want to go back to your room so you settle on a sun lounger by the pool. A staff member asking if you want to play the next movie the team had lined up and you saw no reason not to; a movie by the pool didn’t sound too bad.

Pitch perfect played but whilst your eyes were glued to the project screen, your mind felt like it was a million miles away. That is until you see a shadow cast over the lounger you were sitting on.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Lia asks.

You had chose a double lounger so you didn’t have an excuse not let her.

“Ok” your voice is quiet and although you don’t turn to face her, you do pat the side next to you.

The two of you watch the movie. The only sound to be heard is when you both laugh at the same part.

“Are you really ok?” You ask, still with your eyes on the screen.

“I am. Thank you for making me getting checked out, I wish you would have come with me”

When you turn you see that Lia is already looking in your direction.

“I — I”

“You were mad at me” Lia thinks she is finishing your sentence and but you been mad at her wasn’t the issue.

“I was scared” you take a pause because you know the only way for Lia to understand your reaction is for you to explain why seeing her get stung by a bee worried you so much “My dad was stung by a bee”

“And he was ok” Lia said, always the optimist.

“He went into anaphylactic shock. I didn’t know what to do and by the time I did it was too late. He died in the botanical gardens near my house”

“Y/N I didn’t know. Is that why you panicked? Because you thought the same thing that happened to your dad was going to happen to me?”

You can only nod. The admission itself brings back the worry that you had only just managed to settle.

In a similar way to how she did in the gardens, Lia reaches for your hand and places it over the patch. She pulls it a little so that you weight shift and your head in now resting on her shoulder.

“I’m ok. I went to the doctor, he asked me a couple of questions, cleaned the sting and gave me the all clear”

Silence yet again becomes the third wheel to the movie night you are Lia are accidentally having.

“I don’t want to lose you. It’s already happened once and now I’m just getting you back” you admit.

“Y/N I’m not going anywhere. There’s a reason why I wanted to take a walk with you, why I wanted to spend time with you and only you”

“Because you want us to be friends, like we were before”

“I never wanted us to be friends. Life got in the way and I spent too much time loving the wrong person when I knew she wasn’t the one I wanted to be with”

You knew what she was insinuating, the context wasn’t hard to decrypt.

“Am I that one?” You needed to hear her say it so that you knew this moment wasn’t a dream.

“You are but I know now more than ever that your heart is still healing so we’ll go at your pace”

How do you reply to that without opening an emotional can of worms? After thinking for a few seconds you decide not to say anything at all. Instead you turn deeper into her so that your head is resting on her chest, close enough so that you can hear her heart beat, her healthy heart beat.

#lia walti x reader #Lia Walti imagine #Lia Walti one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #swisswnt x reader #swisswnt one shot #swisswnt imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #Arsenal wfc one shot #Arsenal wfc imagine

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darkniters · 8 months

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jschlatt who gets you to appear briefly in a video

in the video, things are about to change, schlatt talks about how the content on his channel is going to not constantly be tiktok reaction videos.

however, he really needed someone to hone the point home for the audience that he doesnt want to keep up this content anymore (like he needed it, i doubt we wanted it too)

one evening, after editing the video, he walks out to the main living area of the apartment, where he sees you lounging about on your phone, cats laying on either side of you.

he smiles, he then circles around and comes in front of you, sitting in the small space left on the couch. as you lower your phone, you offer him a small smile.

he begins his proposition: “how’d you like to appear in a jschlatt video, sweetheart?” he offers quietly, his voice gentle as if he went any louder it’ll falter your decision.

you look at him confused, you didnt NOT want to appear, but this came out of nowhere. you never discussed anything about you appearing on camera or making you guys public, so the proposal took you by surprise.

“whats it for?” you quiz, not entirely sure where this is leading. he smiles in return.

“i need you to pretend to tell me off, in a sense. you know like, ‘schlatt we’re going broke you gotta stop tiktok reacting’ or something. nothing serious, and if you dont want to its okay.” he explains. you nod your head, imagining how it would go down.

“yeah i can do that, do you wanna do it now?” you ask. you lift yourself up from the couch, the two cats meowing in discontent due to the shifts in weight.

“yeah if you dont mind, i’ll just pretend you come into the room and do it.” he stands up and reaches out his hand for you to grab, and you both make your way into his recording room.

he sits himself down in the chair, and then gets his recording software up and running. once everything is tested and ready, like his mic and such, he turns his body to you.

“alright so yeah, just come in and say like ‘you gotta stop tiktok reactions its ruining this family’ or something really over dramatic. just a quick bit, nothing more.” he explains.

“right, got it.” you nod. you leave the room and close the door behind you. schlatt starts blabbering on about something, and then yoy open up the door.

“schlatt you gotta stop making tiktok reaction videos, we can’t afford to live here anymore.” you say sadly. he looks at you with a distraught look in his eyes.

“oh god.” he lets out breathily. “oh fuck.” he stares into the camera.

“somethings gotta change around here.”

he then suddenly breaks character and bursts out laughing. “that was perfect thank you so much.”

he stops the recording and bounds over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pecks your forehead, then your lips. “you’re so good.” he whispers.

“thank you,” you breathe back, pecking him again on the lips. “can’t wait to watch it back when it’s uploaded.”

a few months later, the videos live, and you’ve forgotten about the bit you both did.

“even my girlfriend has had enough of my bullshit!” he exclaims through the screen. when suddenly a familiar scene plays on your screen.

you smile, and you see yourself doing some horrible acting, not looking good but looking decent, hair flat and wearing loose clothes.

schlatt leaves the office, and offers you a grin.

“videos live, i hear youre already watching it?” he asks, hearing the video play through your phone. you nod, looking at both of you stare eachother out on your screen. then. you notice something.

schlatts eyes can be seen from the side of his face, and his eyes are bright and glistening as they stare at you, before they lose some color when he looks to the screen.

his eyes are filled with so much love for you, and his audience, hopefully, will see that too.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt hcs #schlatt headcanons

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 9 months

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The Drafts

Summary: Spencer confronts Reader about a breakup text he found in her Notes app

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst, Comfort?

Content warnings: Manipulation, lying, yelling, anger, ambiguous ending

Word count: 1.5k

You check yourself out in the bathroom mirror. It’s date night, and it’s been long overdue since Spencer’s been called away to four states in the past two weeks. Despite the stress that already comes with that (and the current state of your relationship), the dress he got you makes up for it, and helps you think about how lucky you are in more ways than one. It fits you just right without trapping you in the fabric. Even the fluorescent lights in his bathroom can’t make you look bad. “Spencer!” You call out, zhuzhing your hair again before leaving. No response, but you flick the switch off before saying, “I’m ready whenever you are!”

Still nothing. Not surprising. It’s rare when Spencer isn’t lost in his own mind. You’ve learned not to ask every time this happens because it often leads to theoretical explanations that go over your head within seconds. On rare occasions, he’s discovered a plot hole in one of the older Dr. Who episodes (which also go over your head).

This is a different time though. Because when you turn the corner to the bedroom, Spencer isn't hunched over his desk or scribbling incoherence on his whiteboard (yes, he has a whiteboard in his bedroom and has refused to move it for reasons unexplained). Instead, he’s pacing the small area between the wall and the foot of his bed. He’s hunched over the phone. Your phone.

You try to bite back the instant frustration as his bare feet smack the floor. “Spencer,” you monitor your tone. “Are you ready?”

“You’re breaking up with me?” That is all he asks when he finally stops to look up at you. He’s not exactly emotional, but he’s definitely holding back.

Red hotly spreads across your cheeks. “What?”

He points and his eyebrows rise like he’s found evidence at a crime scene. “Flushed face.”

“Spencer, we’ve talked about —”

“Likely a sign of embarrassment from being exposed.” He turns the phone screen to face you; paragraphs of text and broken sentences from previous editing attempts. Arguably, not your finest work.

Your mouth is agape, and it is hard to fight the instinct to close it upon suspicion of further guilt. You bet he’ll assume surprise. “I thought we talked about you not looking through my phone.”

“Because you didn’t want me to see this?” He gestures back at it as if it’s not obvious. Sadness is already breaking some barriers, starting with his voice, but he’s trying to maintain a smug demeanor. Even in potential agony, Spencer can still get a high from being right.

You grunted. It was involuntary but honest. It came out of your throat like steam, as the anger in your core is already overflowing into the rest of your body. It bursts again when you snatch the phone out of his hands. He doesn’t flinch, damn him. You scroll up and down on the app incoherently, reminding yourself of the words he’s read and memorized. You think of how they’ll haunt you, how he’ll haunt you with them. “I can’t believe you went through my phone again.”

“I can’t believe you’re not even trying to fix this," he says. “I-I understand that things aren’t the most ideal right now, but we could’ve made time to talk about it.”

“What? Like not going through my phone? Look at how that worked out.”

“I know you’ve been acting differently. No kisses goodbye every day, spacing out at dinners with my coworkers, and a slew of other things.”

“Oh, are they written down on yours? I'd love to read them.”

Spencer shakes his head, letting his eidetic memory speak for itself there. “I’m a profiler, Y/N. And I can’t deny facts.”

The grunt before was delicate compared to the noise you make now. What the noise was is unknown, but terrifying. It wipes Spencer's smirk clean off. “Yes! You’re a profiler! I’m reminded of that every single goddamn day because every move I make near you is analyzed under a microscope!” You resist throwing your phone on the bed; partly out of fear of where it will bounce to, and partly Spencer snatching it up again. Instead, you tap the screen, exiting the Notes app and navigating to your texts. You press the latest contact, Garcia. Then you stay there, knowing Spencer will see the screen brightness show slightly on your face. “You didn’t read my texts, did you?”

Spencer doesn’t say anything. Your eyes dart towards him, and you can tell he wonders what cruel piece of evidence he missed.

“Yeah. Cause if you did, you would’ve known I was writing a breakup text for someone else. But you didn’t. So once again, you’ve snooped and gone out of your way to hurt your own feelings for no reason.”

The look on Spencer’s face. No matter how angry you get, how wrong he is, the sullen puppy dog look this man can pull off with his eyes alone is a weapon. It always makes him look pitiful.

And it makes lying to him even more painful.

“Spencer.” You say with a sigh.

“Who’s it for?”

You throw your head back. “Why is that your business?”

Spencer’s interrogation tactics often get in the way of the fact that he’s not facing a criminal, but his girlfriend. His girlfriend whose privacy he violated with no warrant presented to you. But when Spencer is on a case, he fails to differentiate between the two. You’ve practically heard him making mental notes when your behavior is even slightly off. Even when they have nothing to do with him. But he’s always quick to assume they are as he’s either leaving for work or being called away before discussions can occur. Spencer is a profiler, yes, but all profilers can let their emotions get the better of them.

You show Spencer your wrists. Gold bracelets clang together instead of silver cuffs. “What’s the goal here, Dr. Reid?”

He paces the floor again, briefly, before settling on the bed corner. He’s still looking at the floor, thinking, but you can tell his thought process has slowed down thanks to your (alleged) evidence. "Something must be wrong." He whispers. It’s pathetic. “You used to tell me everything.”

“And you used to not look through my things.” You’d hate to admit that you’re shaking too, but not from sadness. You stay standing, and put your phone on the dresser next to you. Face down. You cross your arms. “Things can change. Actions have consequences.”

He exhales briefly through his nose. He looks up, his eyes already shifting to a pinkish hue. “So it’s your turn to lecture me because —”

“Because my boyfriend is profiling off the clock again? Yes. Because he’s interrogating me and questioning my intentions when he’s supposed to be getting ready for date night? A date night he insisted upon because he’s been working overtime and profiling on a jet for the entire month? Yes.”

The anger. The intensity of it all pierced your blood long before. It coiled around your vocal cords while making your point. You had plenty more to say. A slideshow would’ve been worthy of listing Spencer’s actions over the last three months alone. Except the strain is hard, and clearing your throat doesn’t help. So you stand there, looking down at the miserable man you loved once. You pretend the silence is intentional, you let it speak for itself.

And by some miracle (or perhaps the predicted luck of your dress), it worked. After wiping the budding tears from his eyes, Spencer studies you from curled hair to strappy heels. You know a stray movement will ignite a thousand rebuttals. You preferred dinner, so you maintain your statue-like stillness by raising only your eyebrows.

Spencer swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I should’ve…” He nods while clamping his lips closed. “Yeah, I should have talked to you first. I’m so sorry.”

You exhale. It could be the relief of moving again. Or the fact that you can’t help but comfort the sad man who is still technically your boyfriend. You take his hand and pull him off the bed and allow him to rest his head on your shoulder while holding your waist. His palms are flat on your back as his chest heaves and caves. Your arms are around his neck, and you comfort him with soft hushes. Meanwhile, adrenaline depletion is already beckoning your eyes to close. But you stare at the wall.

You’re so tired. You’ve been tired. Decaying is perhaps the best word for all of this. Nevertheless, you hold Spencer tightly to let him know you’re there. It's all the strength you have. The strength to end things though is of a different caliber than you thought you could fathom. You can collect enough to rip off the world's most difficult bandaid, eventually. But Spencer Reid with a theoretical broken heart is already painful enough to witness. He needs you right now. And right now, you'll be there for him.

Thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins and her discord for helping me with fleshing out this story 🩵

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keravnous · 10 months

Text

the hunter! ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 3 here

Tangerine expected someone else - but he'll do just fine with you, too.

(Based on that one scene from the Kraven The Hunter trailer where he turns around in that chair with the loaded crossbow)

warnings: kids, this is dark; this is like the darkest version of tangerine my brain has cooked up thus far; he is a sociopath by source sooo: manipulation; dub-con/non-con, coercion, gun kink, anger issues, crying, blood, murder/injuries, daddy kink, masturbation, slight dumbification, name-calling, pet names, corruption kink, spit kink

SO I SAW THE KRAVEN THE HUNTER TRAILER AND I REALLY COULDNT HELP MYSELF

"You fucking asshole!", you scream at the top of your lungs, bursting through the large door of your husband's office. It slams back into the lock just as you come to a halt on the expensive fur carpet in the middle of the spacious room.

His chair is facing the wall, a lit cigarette slowly glimming away in the ashtray. It lights up your rage like a match to gasoline.

"I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking dickhead! Can't you keep your dirty-ass dick out of that disgusting bitch you call a secretary for one day?", you are fuming, heart racing as you stomp down with your left heel, throwing your expensive and ridiculously small purse at him, missing the chair by nearly a whole foot. It crashes into the massive painting hanging behind the desk, where it leaves a nasty cut before falling to ground uselessly.

Your husband does not react and that, oh that, that get's you going alright, makes your blood race through your veins so hard you can hear it in your ears.

"I am fucking speaking to you -- turn the fuck around you coward!", you yell, hands clutched to tight fists, your jewellery cutting into the flesh.

Slowly, comedically slowly even, the chair turns. The man sitting in it puts his feet up on the table, legs clad in an expensive navy pin-stripe as he crosses them. And that --

That is not your husband.

The man, sitting in a chair that clearly isn't his, in an office that surely doesn't belong to him, is lean and a lot more handsome than the man you so reluctantly married a few years ago. His face is expressionless, bland like piece of paper, except for the anger pooling around his eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking pin-stripe suit and his hair is neatly combed back, 70s porn stache trimmed just as carefully - the only thing that looks out of place is the blood splattered on his face like freckles, one large splatter on his left cheek.

He is also pointing a gun at you. An actual fucking gun.

"And who the fuck are you, Lady?", he says, casually, but a little irritated nonetheless.

You choke on your own tongue, backing up a little. This is not good. It has your fight or flight kicking in, muscles in your back and legs tensing up and brain going numb, fingers starting to tingle.

"Don't ya move an inch", he growls, his gun following your movement. You freeze. You wonder if he will actually shoot you. You wonder what he is doing here.

"I-, I--"

The man rolls his eyes at you - pretty, pretty eyes; blue like the sea - and huffs out an exasperated sigh.

"Fuckin' answer me." His tone sends shivers down your spine and, if you did not already do so by his gun, you now know for sure that he is not playing around.

"I-", you take a deep breath, voice shaking and thin, "I- I am Markov's wife?"

It comes out more like a question, than an answer, really. You hope it will do; you hope he is happy with what is the - for you, rather sad - truth.

Tangerine cocks an eyebrow, leans back in the leather chair, gun still pointing at you. "'S that so?"

"Y-yes", you gulp.

"Didn't know he had a wife", he mutters, more to himself, really.

Tangerine can feel how the wheels in his head start to turn - the intel didn't suggest a marriage. It genuinely surprises him - not only because people in this profession rarely have spouses - but also because the young lady in front of him is way too pretty. Angelic, even. Too good for a boastful, careless cockroach of a criminal like Markov is. And he wants her, wants to own her. Wants to take take take. He wonders just how quickly she will break.

You, in the meantime, sense an opening.

"W-what do you want? I can g-give you money", you hastily stumble over the words, anxiety crawling up your spine, "A-all of it!"

The man raises his eyebrows, snorts amused. "No, love, I don't need your money."

"A-anything, p-please - just, just", and the dam breaks, eyes tearing up as your eyes zero in on the gun, "Just please d-don't kill me."

Something in his eyes changes, a dark shadow dancing over his face, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and then he pulls back the hammer of his revolver with his thumb. Your knees buckle a little as you hear the bullet snapping in place.

"Care to say that again, eh?" - Anything for your life, really.

"P-please don't kill me", you nearly sob, voice small and quiet, and you are ready, willing to put it all in there, "Please, I am begging you, Mister. I- I don't know why you're here, this - this is one big misunderstanding, I don't know anything about my husband's business. J-just let me go, please."

He does not move. You don't want to die, you are young, you still have a life to live. Maybe you will finally file for divorce. Maybe you will buy a house in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- You don't want to die.

"Please."

Tangerine says nothing for a moment, then his lips tilt up. "Tell me, love, d'ya beg for him that prettily, too? Or 's that just f'me?"

You blink. "What?", you blurt out.

"Jus' lemme hear it again, sugar - sounded so sweet, that."

You do not know what game he is playing but you really aren't ready to die yet either, so you give in.

"Please", you beg, looking at him with big, teary eyes - the barrel of the revolver stares back, a small black hole of ultimate death -, "Please, let me live." His lips tilt up and you decide to make a move on it, catch him off-guard.

"I-I'd do anything, I give you whatever you want!", you are growing desperate now, your brain trying its hardest to come up with something that will safe your ass. And that, that has his eyebrows knotting together.

The man seems to mull it over for a short while, eyes you up and down. Your skin tingles with it, feels numb and like it is on fire at the same time. "Did ya just say Anything, love?"

"I-I did, y-yes", and your voice grows desperate, "I'd do anything - just don't kill me, please, what do you want, I'll do --"

You ramble on and Tangerine rolls his eyes at you, exhales annoyed.

"Fuckin' shut up", he growls and you do, chin quivering a little with the tears still pooling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, sniffling a little.

"Here's what we're gonna do, love", he smiles cooly, shows his teeth like a predator, eyes drilling into you, "We're gonna have a little fun. And once we're done, I'll let ya go. How does that sound? Agreed?"

You have a suspicion what fun means, both, painfully clear and enforced by the way his gaze wanders over your body and you gulp. You really don't have a choice now, do you?

So you can hear yourself say: "Y-yes."

"Yes --?", he lifts his gun a little, gestures with it, "C'mon be a good girl."

Your eyes widen. You are not stupid; you know what he most likely wants to hear - you have met men like him before your marriage - and despite it making your stomach tingle a little it also makes painfully clear what he is imagining as A little fun.

Your voice is small, fingers fumbling with the hem of your tweed blazer. "Y-yes, Daddy", shivers run down your spine as his eyes turn dark dark dark, gaze transfixed by you and then he barks out a mean laugh.

"Fuckin' hell", what?, "I wanted you to thank me, you dumb fuckin' thing, not be a complete 'n utter slut about it."

Shame burns on your cheeks and you scramble for words - anything to say, to excuse or justify yourself - as mortification swallows you whole, crawls up your spine and mingles with your fear, has your head swimming.

"What a poor lil' airhead ya are", he grins at you meanly, "But I like it, go 'head, keep callin' me that. Probably gets you all wet, dunnit?"

You shake your head wildly - "N-no" - bottom lip quivering a little and he knows you are lying.

And Tangerine starts to grow bored. He has been feeling quite bored for a good while - since he blew Markov's lights out to be exact. He wishes he had not done it so soon, would have rather tied him up and let him watch how he has his way with his wife. Tangerine sighs, puffs his cheeks and let’s go off a breath dramatically, looks you straight in the eye.

"Alright, listen. I just don't have all day, so ya better get going, before I pop ya too", he waves his revolver at you, "Get undressed. 'n do it slowly."

You nod - I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die - fingers brush over the first button of your blazer, as he interrupts you: "Ah ah ah, what d'ya say?"

Your eyelids flutter and your knees feel like giving in. "Y-yes, Daddy."

Tangerine hums deep in his throat. "Atta girl - now keep going."

With shaking hands, cold sweat pooling between your fingers, you start to slowly unbutton the first few buttons of your costume's blazer. It's a Chanel tweed set, since you had just been out with some friends for lunch, before one of them told you about what had she'd seen yesterday. Part of you wishes you had never left the restaurant, just shrugged it off and ordered another drink instead. You don't even know why you fight for this marriage - you never really spoke to him; he never touched you or even really looked at you - not that you minded that much. But it's losing your status, the money he brings in, that you'd miss and thus, you had grown a nice pair of manicured claws over time.

See where that got you.

Your blazer falls to the ground with a thud and Tangerine licks his lips. And that is when another part of you, very quietly at the back of your mind, is a little glad you came here. It's in his eyes mostly, a strange and unknown hunger, like an animal gone wild. And it ignites something in you, shoots pleasure straight down your loins and has your breath hitching.

No one, no one has ever looked at you like that, like he is close to dashing over the desk and swallowing you whole, eating you up and ripping you apart with razor-sharp teeth.

Your blouse follows next, as you pop open the first few buttons, pulling the thin fabric out of your short tweed skirt. It flows to the ground shortly after, leaves you in your bra, skirt, and heels. Tangerine does not give you as much as a few seconds to accommodate to being partially exposed to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Skirt's next, darlin'."

You inhale audibly through your lips and Tangerine chuckles quietly at that as you unhook the clasp on your skirt, slooowly pulling down the zipper at the side. You feel ridiculous, like a very bad caricature of a housewife stripping for her husband. It's nothing like you imagined it to be, fingers buried deep inside of you, imagining your husband to be someone else, someone prettier, someone who valued you - someone who you'd love to get dirty for. You don't feel sexy or tempting - but to him you certainly do look the part, the way your body quivers and shakes, all shy by avoiding his gaze.

The expensive tweed falls to the floor and you step out of the fabric of your clothing, pooling around your feet. You gulp, carefully looking up at him. You wonder if he likes what he sees, if it's enough for him to spare your life, to --

Tangerine's heart skips a beat, a sharp noise erupting in his ears. The lingerie you are wearing, a stunning pale-pink lace set, hugs your curves nicely and leaves nothing to the imagination - with the way your nipples poke through the bra, the string cupping your cunt, dipping a little into the cleft of your folds.

He can also see the damp patch on your lacey string and it makes his dick rock-hard, pressing against his slacks. He lifts an eyebrow, as he looks at you. "Who would've thought", and you blush, swallowing, "He married a common whore."

The humiliation burns on your cheeks, turns them red and your mouth goes dry, but there's also fresh wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Oh, you are fucked.

He reads you like an opened book, watches you shifting uncomfortably. "Say it", he whispers softly.

You swallow, licking your lips, before replying quietly: "I am a common whore - Daddy."

"That you are, darlin', aren't ya", Tangerine grins, "Get that bra off, show me what ya got."

You reach back and unclasp the soft lace, pulling the strings over your shoulders and down your arms, carelessly throwing the fabric to the side. Tangerine tilts his head a little, his eyes assessing your tits. He seems satisfied, waves his revolver at you.

"Touch yourself, I wanna see those pretty tits movin'", swallowing, your hands come up, damp with cold sweat and cup your tits, bouncing and squeezing them a little, pressing them together. You do not dare looking at him, gaze focussed on the desk instead, hands brushing over your breasts.

You just started rolling your left nipple between your index finger and thumb, gasping quietly, the slight pain and pleasure running straight between your legs as he suddenly moves. You flinch, arms immediately clutching around your exposed chest while he gets up, deliberately strolls over to you.

Maybe he is not satisfied, he surely isn't, it must've been too little, not enough he's gonna kill you, kill you, kill you --

"Such perfect fuckin' tits", he weighs his revolver in his hands, the metal of it clinking against his rings, and closes in on you. "Have ya been touched often?", the barrel of the gun hooks underneath your chin and your lift your head with it obediently, looking up at him. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your eyes big and teary again. You don't think he's one to slip on the trigger but it still has anxiety crawling up your spine - don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me --

"Answer me, ya stupid twat."

You just wish he would take that fucking gun away from your face.

"N-no", you answer truthfully. The last time you had sex was literal ages ago, in your time at Harvard. Since your parents had married you off you haven't been touched by another fucking human being, assured so by the constant observation of your husband's men. He was allowed to cheat, but God forbid you had some fun. So, you had retreated to fucking yourself, lacking any physical contact, making every single time you masturbated feel shallow and incomplete. Tangerine watches the way your face changes as you reminisce.

"Oh, ya poor thing", he coos, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you look up at him, "Bet that felt horrible, didn't it?"

And you nod, his thumb caressing your cheek and you get a first good look at him. He is really pretty. The blood looks good on him, bright red in a glooming contrast to his blue eyes. Your head swims with it a little. "How did that make ya feel, eh?"

"Lonely", you croak, before you can stop yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks, pooling between his fingers and rings.

He hums in his throat. "Bet it did", something dances across his eyes, "D'ya want someone to take care of ya? D'ya want to stop feeling so bloody lonely all the time?"

The truth behind his words runs you over like a freight train, barely leaves you wondering with how he got that about you so fast, brain erupting in a static noise.

You do. You feel lonely, locked up in a golden cage of money and bodyguards, with no one opening its door to spend some time with the little bird inside.

"Y-yeah", you whisper, blinking away the tears.

"Wanna know something, love?", and you nod, carefully, not to spook him into shooting, "I could be that person. How's that sound, eh? I could keep ya safe -"

Tangerine's hand leaves your cheek and touches your waist instead, a feather-light touch that has goosebumps spreading all over your body.

"I could touch ya -", his hand sprawls over your lower back, "'N keep you happy, get ya lots'n lots of pretty, sparkly things."

Your breath hitches, brain slowly growing mushy because - because, despite the gun underneath your chin, that does sound heavenly. It sounds easy. Painless. Better. A little exciting even.

"C'mon, how's that sound?", he coos, hand running over your back, to your side again, thumb toying with the hem of your string.

"Sounds so good, Daddy", you sigh, images of a new life, a different life flashing by.

"Mh, I know it does. I could take you with me, make ya mine. You'd love that, wouldn't ya?", his fingers dance over your abdomen, dipping lower and between your legs. His thumb presses down on the damp patch, rubs over your clit, his bracelet rustling.

And it is like your brain has completely given up, surrendering yourself to this very handsome man. But you just can't since - "I-I am married", you croak, a little helplessly, like you don't quite know what to make out of that either.

He does, anger flickering behind his eyes like someone pulled a lighter out and ignited his gaze.

Tangerine growls, the barrel of his revolver pressing against your temple roughly, thumb rubbing smaller circles over your clit through your dampened string, "You belong to me now, d'ya understand? There's nothing he can do about it, y'hear me?"

"Y-yes Daddy, I do", you whine, eyelids fluttering and small tears running down your cheeks.

"Oh, stop fuckin' crying - I can feel how wet ya little cunt's gotten, fuckin' slut", and you blink up at him, a small gasp escaping your mouth as your gazes meet through teary eyes.

You just look so fucking hot to him. Adrenaline from his kill still pumps through his veins and it makes him so so mad, his ears ringing. He feels like he is about to fucking burst and your tears only spurr him on, making something in his stomach growl, stretching its claws out.

Tangerine is too far gone already, everything tinted red red red and he just wants to lash at you, bury his teeth in your throat and end your life like that, bury his dick deep inside of you and feel you twitch around him while blood spurts from your open wound, flows from your mouth. He wants.

But you are also so very very pretty to him, tears running down your cheeks, lips plush and quivering a little and nipples hard like glass, testing his patience with the way they poke out at him.

"Or actually, don't", his lips curl up into a cold smile, "I like to see you cry, hm? Y'real pretty like this."

And you sob heavily, his words making your head swim. Pretty pretty pretty - when was the last time someone called you pretty?

"Oh, darlin'", Tangerine whispers, gun grazing your temple, thumb rubbing small and hard circles on your clit, "Don't be hurt by Daddy, hm? I don't mean to hurt ya, now do I?"

"N-no", you shake your head a little, "Di-didn't hurt m-me."

"Mhm, you are such a good girl, aren't ya? Never hurt by your new Daddy, eh?"

You shake your head again but this time, his face grows stern. "Ah ah ah, words, love. Use your words."

"N-no, y-you could never hurt me."

"Yeah, I couldn't, how could I? I can say anything to you, call you whatever I like and you would never be hurt, would ya?"

And you do not want him to be angry, do not want him to think that he could hurt you - so that he doesn't accidentally slip and does just that - and you notice that fresh tears stream down your cheeks.

"I-I wouldn't, no", you blink away the tears and Tangerine smiles at you.

"That's right. I can call you whatever I like", his thumb speeds up and you moan sweetly, "What d'ya think? Doesn't slut fit you well?"

He says it with such adoration that you cannot help but sigh, nodding. "Y-yeah, it does", you reply quietly, ready to wear it with pride.

"Alright then, slut - take that sorry excuse of a panty off."

You follow his command, shaking fingers hooking underneath the hem of your string, pulling it down slowly.

"Faster, you dumb fuckin' slut."

"Uh-huh", you mumble, nodding, and hastily shoving your string down your legs until it falls down and pools at your feet - a pretty pink on a bright fur carpet. Now, with being fully naked, you feel incredibly vulnerable.

You still wonder if he really won't hurt you. You decide that if you stick by rules, he most likely won't.

Tangerine slowly walks around you, like a predator surrounding its prey, then comes to a halt behind you. The barrel of his revolver presses against the nape of your neck and then glides over your body - down down down - cold metal against warm skin, and then he reaches around your waist. The gun grazes your abdomen and slips between your legs, barrel running cooly through your folds. And you can't hold back the moan crawling up your throat, parting your lips, has you inhaling sharply.

"Yeah, that's more like it, innit?", he rubs the cold metal along your folds, "I can fuckin' smell how wet your cunt is."

And you can hear it, too - the way your pussy squelches obscenely around the barrel, wetness dripping down your thighs. Your knees buckle as the metal rubs along your clit, has you moaning shyly.

Tangerine wraps one arm around you, holds you upright with your back pressed flush against his chest and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, hotly through his slacks.

"Lift your leg, love", he whispers, moustache brushing over the shell of your ear and you comply like you are a fucking robot, and his large hand wraps around the back of your knee, holds your leg up. You mewl as the gun wanders further, barrel brushing against your hole and then dips in with barely any effort, so so slick by your juices and your breath hitches, whole body trembling as the cold metal enters you.

"O-oh", you gasp dumbly, your body sacking back against him. The barrel isn't too big, barely larger than a finger, and rather short but it still feels - good? Tangerine starts to fuck you with it slowly, moves the gun in and out of you and your head swims with the thought, that he could just pull the trigger and blow your lights out, could leave you here bleeding to death.

Your legs start to shake, anxiety and lust mingling dangerously, and in a desperate attempt for any leverage your hand shoots up, reaches back and finds the back of his neck, clutches onto it, fists the pristine white banker's collar of his shirt.

"Yeah, that feels fuckin' good, dunnit?"

"Uh-huh", you breathe, the cold metal pumping in and out of you has lust pooling your stomach and you look down to where his tattooed arm wraps around your waist, where the black sparrow and the golden bracelet vanish along your pussy - watching the way you can see the grip and trigger moving against your folds.

You should be scared, afraid of him and afraid of the gun fucking into you - but you just aren't. Lust washes over your brain, makes everything go just a little hazy, wraps you in cotton candy - hot and syrupy, sweet.

"My god - shit", you breathe, your cunt aching to be touched and you wish for the barrel to just be a bit longer, able to fuck you properly, reach the parts only his cock could - the one that's pressing against your ass hotly, pulsing through his slacks. Instead, you roll your hips once, best you can with his iron grip on your thigh, meeting the thrusts of his gun.

It has you whining, the way the cold metal presses against your hot and slick skin, throwing your head back, resting on his shoulder. Tangerine moves in, like a hungry animal, lips and stache brushing over your exposed shoulder, tickling the naked skin while his eyes wander down your body - taking in your desperate thrusts, bouncing tits and hard nipples. You are fucking hot, maybe the hottest thing he has seen in a while, hotter than the tarts he fucks sometimes.

You seem clean - innocent and virginal and it nearly makes him bust a nut thinking about you: on all fours crawling towards him, sucking his cock until your throat bruises and you are a crying mess, tied to the bedposts taking him like a good fucking personal sex doll would. He groans against your skin, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your leg.

The sound has you vibrating. It leaves you wanting, wanting to feel more, to feel full; to hear more of him, more of where that came from. You can't hold yourself back. "D-daddy", you moan, the feeling of his hard dick pressing against you and the warmth that his firm chest radiates leaving you a little dizzy, "N-need your cock."

Tangerine chuckles against your shoulders. "Oh, now you're wantin' something, eh? What about me, love? What about our little deal?"

"'S for y-you, too", you whine helplessly.

"Oh no no no", he sounds genuinely amused, presses the gun snugly against your aching cunt and your legs tremble, "Don't ya try to get me all soft 'n shit, hm? You'll lose, love, you'll lose."

His tongue darts out, licks a fat stripe over your neck, testing your sweat mingling with your expensive perfume. It takes all his willpower not bury his teeth into your soft flesh until he draws blood and life fades from your eyes.

"N-need m-more", you gasp, hole clenching around the short barrel, cunt needy and aching and squirting against his fingers and the gun in anticipation.

"Well, then -- Why don't ya show me how you got yourself off all those years, hm? Show me how to work that sweet cunt of yours", his lips brush over the nape of your neck and your knees buckle at the soft touch, "Show Daddy how to do it."

Tangerine pulls the gun out of you and you gasp, eyelids fluttering, hole clenching around nothing at the loss, wanting the friction back and he slowly puts your leg back down. His hand brushes up your thigh and waist, rests on your shoulder, presses down a little. And you turn to puddy in his hands, knees giving in and you sink down, landing on your knees with a soft thud.

The fur feels soft around your knees and you lay your head back obediently, looking up at him through hazy eyes. You can see him swallowing, licking his lips. His revolver drips with your juices.

His hand grabs your chin, slight pressure on your throat and then he moves in, rubs his crotch over the back of your head. You can feel his hard, big dick against your skull and you can't help your mind from wandering there, wondering how might he taste.

"Feel that? That's what ya fuckin' slutty behaviour does t'Daddy", he bows down, grins at you and then, without warning, spits.

You flinch as his saliva hits your face, lands across your forehead and you cheeks. His thumb spreads it out, rubs it into your skin and you moan, humiliation pooling in your stomach and shooting down between your legs.

Tangerine chuckles, straightens back up and the hand leaves your face, your throat. "Spread ya legs, I wanna see what's gonna be mine."

You comply, sitting down on your ass and planting your feet in front of you, heels digging into the soft fur. He strolls around you, makes is way back to the desk.

"'N you fuckin' whore better put on a fuckin' good show for me, too", he growls, "It's what ya want, innit? Be a good girl f'me?"

It kind of is. The part of your brain that just doesn't want to die is oddly silent. There is something else, something that buries its claws deep deep in your mind and tears and tears and tears until everything is a little mushy and your brain complies - good girl good girl good girl.

Tangerine leans against the table, crosses his feet and places his hands on the edges, gun dangling from his slender fingers. "C'mon love, ya better don't wanna keep me waiting."

You look down at yourself and a surprised gasp leaves you mouth - you are incredibly wet, thighs sticky with your own juices. You run your fingers through your folds in awe, feeling your own slick, and you moan as you brush by your clit. You need more, body and cunt aching for it and your index finger starts to rub over your clit.

Squelching sounds erupt between your legs and you mewl at the sensation, your cunt so responsive, hole fluttering and your free hand darts out, grabs the fur beneath you.

"Such a pretty fuckin' cunt ya got", and your gaze darts up at him, stomach doing a funny little flip as your eyes meet his, breath hitching in your throat.

Tangerine licks his lips, gestures with his gun. "Rub faster, I wanna hear more of ya sweet moans, slut."

You comply immediately, rubbing your clit faster and you do moan for him, gasping with the pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your nerves. You throw your head back, not waiting for his next instruction, adding a second finger, rubbing large and quick circles around your clit, hips bucking and rolling against them, heightening the sensation.

Arching your back you moan and gasp, lust swallowing you whole and taking over your brain - eradicating anything and everything despite the need to feel more more more.

"C'mon, I know you wan'it, push one in and finger yourself", and your other hand flies to your wanton pussy; index finger briefly, impatiently circling your hole before eagerly dipping in, burying itself deep in one quick thrust. You hiss, quickly exchanged by a sweet gasp as you bottom your finger out.

You start to move it in and out of you, rubbing it along your walls and you can't help but sink onto your back, mewling as it enters you deeper, slips back in more easily. You feel so so dirty, naked in nothing but your jewellery and heels with his spit across your face, but you have never felt better either.

"O-one more, please", you beg, "Please, let me have one more."

Don't you just beg so prettily? He wonders if you will beg like that when he will shove a plug up your ass and fuck your throat, stuffing your cunt with a vibrator. He wonders if you will ask for another one to fuck your ass.

Oh, he will ruin you alright. "Since you ask so nicely", he coos, "Go ahead, slut. Whatever ya need."

Pushing a second finger in, the circles you rub on your clit become smaller and faster. You moan in rhythm with your fingers thrusting into you, curling them a little. Your legs go a little limp, knees darting away from each other, giving him an even better view of your assault on your pussy, the way your slick spreads up to your thighs. Your cunt gushes around your fingers as you force them in deeper, squirts against your hand.

Tangerine watches you coming apart smugly, weighs his revolver in his hands. Who would've thought a simple gun was enough to get you to buckle, give in and surrender yourself to him?

You are his now, he will never let you got. He will keep you and train you and make you needy and dumb for no one else but him.

The thought nearly makes his chest burst with the power trip it sends him on, and he spreads his legs a little, feels his hard cock pressing against his slacks. He can't fucking wait to get in that sweet sweet cunt of yours - show you how a real man fucks his wife, fucks what belongs to him. Tangerine can see, even from where he is standing, that you are fucking tight - the way your hole stretches around your delicate fingers has him licking his lips.

He can't fucking wait to claim you.

"Yeah, I can see he never fucked you properly", Tangerine rasps, shakes his head in silent disapproval as you mewl, arching your back, "I'd take care of you, y'know? Y'want that, don't ya?"

You nod nod nod, moaning as your fingers brush over your walls, stretching you out as you scissor yourself open - thinking about how good his huge fucking dick would feel inside of you instead - your hole fluttering around your digits.

"Bet ya do, lil' slut. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya, ya'd never ever have to think again. Jus' lemme do the thinking."

"Shit, please, yes", you moan, rocking down on your fingers, pushing a third one in. You are so so full, juices squelching around your hole and wetting your hand and the fur underneath you but it's not enough. You start to pump the in and out of you quicker, deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you just right.

"Yeah, I'd tell you exactly what to do", Tangerine hums, "I'd be coming home and tell my little slut to bend over the fuckin' kitchen table, stuff her tight 'n needy holes, 'n what would she say?"

"I-I'd thank y-you", you nearly cry out, your whole body feeling light and shuddering at the thought.

"Mhm, atta girl - and if I put ya pretty throat on a leash? Drag ya through the house and stuff ya full of toys? What would ya say to Daddy?"

"T-thank you, Daddy", you huff, chest heaving with your rapidly approaching orgasm, legs tensing up and toes curling.

"And what would ya say when I let ya cum, slut?"

"Thank you!", you sob, the two fingers on your clit rubbing mercilessly, your other hand fucking you hard and fast.

"That's a good girl. Lemme hear it then, cum you fuckin' whore."

Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, your cunt pushing your fingers out as you convulse around them - a high pitched chant Thank you thank you thank you falling from your lips. Your arms fall to the side uselessly as you ride your orgasm out, wave after wave of warm squirt wetting the fur, as you moan and roll your hips, leaving you breathless.

Your eyes flutter open as you hear footsteps, see him approaching. He is still holding his revolver, the outline of where his large cock is pressing angrily against his expensive trousers.

"Too sad your husband couldn't just see that, eh?", there is genuine joy marking Tangerine's features, making his bright eyes gleam.

Oh shit - that reminds you of something.

"W-where is he?", you croak, legs still shaking with your recent orgasm, body sinking into the fur.

"Oh, love", he seems to smile at you, but his eyes don't join in on his lips tilting up, "He's right 'ere, ain't he?"

He points his revolver away from you, to the side and your eyes warily follow the movement. There is nothing there except the locked closet and --

And a dark pool of something on the ground, a trail of it slooowly creeping your way over the polished floor boards. It looks like-

You stretch your arm out, fingers darting out and the index finger dipping into the liquid. It's still warm and sticky.

And red. It does not take a genius to get what it is.

Tangerine licks his lips as he watches you, how realization creeps in, changes your facial expression. You look horrified and his dick twitches at the sight.

He closes in on you, bows down over your exposed body and grabs your hand roughly, pulls it in. "Would'ya mind cleaning that up f'me, love?", and your eyelids flutter and you do, like you are on autopilot, licking your dead husband's blood from your finger.

"Mhm", Tangerine hums and you gag a little around the metallic taste, which makes his face light up. He pulls his finger from your mouth, unbuckles his belt instead. "I think, I really might just keep ya."

"Y-you said you'd let me go", you gasp as his hand dips between your legs.

"Well, love - change of plans, innit?"

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine imagine #kraven the hunter #kraven #my writing #smut #bullet train #bullet train 2022

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jongseongsnudes · 5 months

Text

twenty three (finale)

warning; 🥰 1.3k words. masterlist. a/n; happy birthday to our youngest baby who is growing up way too fast before our eyes 😭💖 can’t believe my baby is already 18 😭😭😭

“can you hurry up, you’re gonna miss the start! don’t you want to see your boyfriend play? it’s the finals!”

“and tell me why you’re more excited to see him play than me?” your brows raise at your friend who had been a little too eager the entire day, “or perhaps you’re just excited to see player number 6?”

she throws you a dirty glance but doesn’t stop pulling your arm towards the back oval where the crowd was already going wild. from a distance, you could spot your school’s team doing a huddle and in the middle of it all stood the reason why you even came tonight.

niki nishimura.

as if he could sense your presence, the boy looks up just as you reach the bleachers, your gazes immediately on each other. the view of him jogging over, all done up in his captain jersey and gear had you unknowingly holding your breath, the scene identical to ones from cliched high school flicks. and you were the main lead!

“why are you late!”

“would you prefer it if i didn’t come at all?!”

the captain throws you a dirty gaze, similar to the one your best friend had given you earlier, making you giggle.

“you are so lucky i like you,” the boy rolls his eyes before taking a step closer towards you, “now hurry up and give me my good luck kiss.”

you don’t have to look around to know that most of the audience were now focused on you and niki. hell, you could feel it! but what can you do when the tall boy is also looking down at you, his eyes hopeful, waiting for a kiss from his girlfriend.

so you get on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek, a move that immediately has the boy in a giggling fit.

your heart really might explode at this point because just look how cute he is!

“so are we playing orrrrr?” a familiar deep voice is heard from behind you, one you recognised as belonging to the sarcastic transfer student.

the rest of the team bursts into laughter at haruto’s words, making their bad tempered captain blush and almost pop a neck vein at the same time. poor kid.

“alright lets go!” niki screams, pointing to the field. he waits for the players to all disperse before leaning back down to kiss you back, a smile back on his lips, just like the one that’s already on yours. “i’ll be back in a sec. don’t go anywhere!”

“i’ll be right here nishimura.”

ruffling your hair, the boy then runs off towards his team who are already in position. the crowd roars to life as the game kicks off into full gear.

although you’re trying to pay attention to the game, your mind would wander off every two seconds. perhaps it’s because your mind is always too occupied with niki in his uniform to care about anything else.

just like right now.

“goooo taki!” your best friend suddenly screams from your side, surprising you, “what... i’m just cheering!”

“rightttt. for taki only?”

talk about being sus.

the girl nudges your shoulders before focusing back on the game, her cheeks evidently a shade darker from the mention of player number 6’s name. also known as taki.

before you knew it, the game was down to the last ten seconds. it had been a pretty tough match from what you could see, niki looking much more stressed out than usual. but as expected already, your boyfriend’s team came out as the winners in the end, the cheers that followed instantly after was almost deafening.

you watch as niki and the team huddle up, cheering and celebrating their victory. it makes you want to cry, knowing how hard he had been training all year for this. it has surely paid off.

you were too busy jumping up and down with eunji to notice niki running towards you, until it was too late. cheers turn into squeals when he lifts you up by the waist, holding you high up above the ground in excitement.

“ni- niki!! you’re so sweaty!” you try to push against his chest but this is niki nishimura you’re talking about, the annoying-est person you know, so of course he doesn’t stop.

instead, the boy pushes forward, smooshing his cheeks against yours, allowing his buckets worth of sweat to drench you too.

“ni- nishimura!”

the captain finally puts you down to your feet but his arms are still protectively around your waist, keeping you close. he’s full of smiles, eyes almost in half moon shapes, the sight has you instantly mirroring as well.

“you’re so annoying!” you punch his chest, “you’re lucky i like you.”

to your surprise, niki pulls you forward, hugging you tightly but instead of complaining anymore, you just let him. you couldn’t care less about the sweat, hell you wanted to hug him forever.

“congratulations niki, i knew you’d win.”

“well duh,” he says with a smug grin but before you could even say anything back, you feel a soft kiss on the top of your head, “but... thanks for being here tonight. i was happy seeing you in the crowd, baby.”

it’s as if you were hit square in the face, knocking you unconscious cause that’s literally what you’re feeling right now. the boy has called you a bunch of names throughout the time you’ve known him but this specific one topped it all.

your eyes, your hands... even your heart doesn’t know how to respond to it. to the simple word, baby.

“ahh you like that word, do you?” he asks with his brows raised, voice so taunting and playful, “baby baby baby baby baby baby!”

“stoppp...” you dig your face into his chest, hoping to hide away how flushed your cheeks were from his teasing. it causes the boy to laugh out loudly, as if making you blush was the most hilarious thing.

“my baby.”

your poor heart swoons to how softly he says those very two words. usually, you would’ve found something like this cringe but not right now, not with how naturally he made it sound.

“ah ah testing testing,” a familiar voice interrupts you both over the speakers, only for you to realise it’s none other than taki with a microphone, “hi. can our captain please stop smooching his girlfriend and come join us for one sec? please. just one second and you can have him to yourself after!”

and now you wanted to not only hide but run away forever as well, run away from the entire crowd that’s currently staring at you. some with envy, some with laughter and some with pure jealousy. but lets be real, your boyfriend is the niki nishimura after all.

the niki nishimura you used to do anything to stay away from, the same one you literally labelled as your sworn enemy. yet here he was, the boy who you would now do anything to spend time with, the same one you were now lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

“i’m going to kill him. i’m going to kill all of them,” niki narrows his eyes at his waiting group of team mates on the field before looking back down at you, “i’ll be right back. wait for me yeah?”

“i’ll be here niki, always.”

the ends of his lips pull into yet another grin as he hears that one specific word, always. he kisses you again without hesitation, the two of you laughing as you hear his team mates pretending to gag not too far away. but you don’t mind it, not when everything just so perfect.

“always.”

end.

a/n; annnnd that's the end of my bad boy fic! omg it took like 4 decades but we're here 😭 definitely gonna miss my tsundere team captain so maybeee i'll start a new one for him sometime. thank you to everyone who supported my fic! i appreciate every comment, like, feedback, everything! so thank you for sticking with me til the very end 🤗💖💖💖

taglist; @jeonjungkookkk @soobsbby @astra-line @drunkanddazedalways @shine-your-light @02zprotector @byunhoebaek @artgukkx @nowrosesaredead @abdiitcryy @y4wnjunz @enhasengene @enhacolor @my5colors @kyutiepeachy @miixsh @vantxx95 @1115phile @outrologist @axartia @bunhoons @3nh4luvr @duckieanon @lix-freckle3 @uuwonnie @emoworu @kyoyangwon @sunshine-skz @paolennenicole @ahnneyong @hhganyu @duolingofanaccount @hseungi @omgjwon @jays-blue @jaykedpotato @gobighee @jiawji @taekbokki @wonwon-ie @mavlogist@thedemonundernikisbed @rosie-is-everywhere @kuleo26 @ii4enha-jwn @thejjrl @taytaymuse @cococake @sunooslover @muffinminnie @sashamifasolla @yoonjin96 @choibeomgogi @flower-lise @princesjy @she-is-dreaming @n-wjns @mimikittysblog @letapostropheesgo @f0rlov3rs @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

Things Seventeen Do That Make Your Heart Flutter

I love these but also like when can I get a Seventeen *cries*

S.Coups

♡ Takes his voice a couple octaves lower to murmur sweet nothings between kisses

♡ Sits behind you with an arm wrapped across you protectively

♡ Texts you to make sure you got home safe if you ever go out late, have something scheduled in the evening, or go somewhere unfamiliar

♡ Moves your hair &/or shirt out of the way to press kisses to your shoulders

♡ Rolls up his sleeves slowly but firmly, looking genuinely a bit surprised that you're watching so intently

Jeonghan

♡ Calls you adorable with the fondest smile directed only at you

♡ Raises your joined hands up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of your hand

♡ Pulls you into bed with him, hands going to your hair as soon as you fall onto his chest

♡ Boops your nose, plays with your cheeks & nuzzles into them

♡ Teasingly swipes his tongue over your lips when you're kissing just to see what you do

Joshua

♡ Tells you this next song is for you as he takes his guitar pick from between his teeth, beginning a new melody

♡ Listens to you & makes eye contact so intently, a tornado could pass by behind you & he wouldn't even notice

♡ Holds the umbrella for you & kisses you in the rain like it's a movie scene

♡ His hands always gently rub your back when he hugs you

♡ Kisses your hand, then slowly takes his time all the way up your arm to your cheeks & finally your lips

Jun

♡ Tells you he just can't resist you, you know

♡ Pretends to bite you, every now & again very lightly actually giving the side of your face a joking bite

♡ When you're done laying down, takes both of your hands & swings you back up, making you feel like for just a second, you're flying

♡ Hypes you up constantly, telling you you're the most beautiful person ever in the whole world, actually

♡ Twirls you around the room when you're dancing just so he can admire you before reeling you in once more, your back against his chest as you move & sway as one

Hoshi

♡ Notices if you ever wear different perfume, leaning in & practically nuzzling your neck to get a sniff after he points it out

♡ Gives you the occasional little nip between kisses

♡ Holds you on his lap with both hands around your middle, resting his head on your shoulder with a huge smile as he lightly sways you

♡ When you're sitting at a table together, his foot finds your leg, hooking it & trying to pull you closer, giving a giggle or a smirk depending on how far he manages to pull you

♡ Finds excuses to slide his hands over your body as you two dance

Wonwoo

♡ Chuckles deeply & fondly when you start showing him affection

♡ Links your arms together when you share a book, pulling the pages a bit closer to his vision & you to his body

♡ Takes you to the most beautiful places, but his eyes hardly fall on the view because they won't leave you

♡ Tells everyone else to be quiet when you're speaking & considers your opinion first

♡ Gently lowers you into bed with a hand at the small of your back

Woozi

♡ Leans in & bites the tip of his pen softly as he listens to you intently

♡ Gently pulls your head onto his shoulder when you sit next to each other, his fingers ever-so-slightly running through your hair

♡ Lets you try his Seventeen ring on, smiling so widely if it fits you, too

♡ Always lets you play your favorite songs, even if he doesn't particularly like them

♡ Can't wait to spend time in private with you, because it's during the moments between only you two that he gives you the most passionate kisses

♡ Sings you love songs, then bursts out into a wide, shy smile afterward

♡ Grabs your hands in his & makes you clap for both him & yourself depending on the situation

♡ Accepts any excuse to tell you xyz quality, situation, skill, or anything really is why he loves you

♡ Does love shots when you guys have drinks or even with your spoons in hand if you have ice cream

♡ Can't give you just one kiss, you'll get a ton of pecks before getting pulled into a more passionate one

Mingyu

♡ Caresses your cheek with the back of his hand

♡ Grins as he flexes & lets you hang off his arm, feeling so cool & looking just as confident

♡ Spends a whole day just to learn how to make your favorite dish with you at his side

♡ His eyes light up when you show him a new outfit you got, gaze drifting over all of it as he smiles Bigger & bigger, telling you how amazing you look in a wonder-filled tone

♡ Turns to steal a kiss on the lips when you lean in to press one to his cheek

The8

♡ Tells you he'd really like to kiss you- may he?

♡ Manages to take the most flattering pictures of you & when you comment such he remarks that that beauty is how he always sees you no matter what

♡ Lays his hands over yours to guide them as you paint a picture together

♡ Presses kisses to the shell of your ear when he looks over your shoulder

♡ Traces patterns on your back as you lay together

Seungkwan

♡ Remembers your drink order & surprises you with it as often as he can

♡ Absolutely melts into your kisses every single time, whether it's the first or the twentieth, his face breaking into the most precious smile

♡ Back hugs you, placing his hands over yours & resting his head in the crook of your neck

♡ Almost always holds your face in both hands when he kisses you, pulling you in so gently & taking his time as his lips move with yours

♡ Reminds you almost daily how much better this world is because it has you in it

Vernon

♡ Idly holds the strings of his hoodie between his lips

♡ Lets his hand slide down your jawline after he places his headphones on your head, pulling you in for a lazy kiss

♡ Reminds you that you can tell him anything, you know, expression solemn yet deeply loving

♡ Even if you're sitting at a table, he'll find a way to brush your knee with his

♡ Really casually will just tell you that you have really beautiful eyes, you know

Dino

♡ Holds your waist & guides you as he teaches you a new dance move

♡ Believes you can do anything, almost completely blind to obstacles as he expresses complete confidence in your ability to carry out your dreams & desires & show your skills anywhere

♡ Pulls up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead

♡ Whispers little jokes to you just to make you laugh & see your smile as you fall a little closer into him

♡ Surprises you with kisses at the most random times to keep you on your toes, giving a great big grin at your expression thereafter

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snakewithawitchhat · 18 days

Text

Sm♡t Alphabet

Featuring Macaque

I promised I'd make this after the Wukong one, didn't I?

This includes smut. Ofc

Aftercare— Like Wukong, Macaque is also good at aftercare. He'll bandage any wounds, kiss any bruises, apologize if he was too rough, and comfort you until you fall asleep or calm down. He also likes to shower with you after.

Body Part— His favorite body parts are your hips and sides. He loves the way you shudder when he trails his fingers over the sensitive skin in those areas.

Cum— Almost always outside. Sure, he loves the idea of stuffing you fuller than a chocolate eclair, but he also loves seeing you covered in his own mess.

Dirty Secret— He absolutely loves your praise. Unlike Wukong, he'd do anything to be called a good boy. He can't help it. Your voice is so perfect. He also likes the idea of being tied up, but he'd never tell you that.

Experience— Much like Wukong, Macaque has plenty of experience. He hadn't done it for a while until he met you, but he has a general idea of it.

Favorite Position— Doggy or spooning. Or any other position where he can see your face. He loves seeing the way your eyes roll back into your head. The way you look while he fucks you dumb is so adorable.

Goofy— He tries to be serious, he really does, but if you or even he says something dumb while drunk with pleasure, he'll burst into laughter.

Hair— Like Sun, he's very well groomed. He showers before and after the deed unless to prevent him. Although, if he's in a real needy situation, he doesn't care what state he's in.

Intimacy— He sucks at being romantic. He does set up some romantic scenes for you both to enjoy, but most of the time he just likes pounding into you at random hours of the day

Jack off— He rarely does this. He never did before you came along, and now that you are here, whenever he needs to be taken care of, he has you.

Kink— Oh, he has PLENTY. Breeding (ofc), you or him being tied up, primal play, spanking, sadism, bruises, marking, etc…

Location— Whether it's in the privacy of your or his room or against the wall in a secluded alleyway, he's enjoying himself.

Motivation/turn on— Whenever you dress yourself up (tux or dress), he's obsessed. Especially if it's for him. Compliments get him going, too. Or sometimes his mind wanders when he looks at you, and he just can't help the tent in his pants.

No/turn off— If anyone walks in on you, or watches, he's stopping. You can try to convince him about this, but he doesn't like the idea of someone else getting off on your private time. Not unless he's proving a point that you're his.

Oral (giving/receiving)— He loves giving. He loves burying his face between your thighs and kissing his way up and down your body. He'll hold out until you cum first. If you try to give him pleasure, he'll be all like "What about youu?"

Pace— He can go at any pace. He has more self-control than Monkey King, that's for sure. His favorite pace is slow but rough, though. Slowly pulling away just to slam back. He enjoys the little noises of surprise you make.

Quickie— He's fine with them. Sure, he enjoys going for hours on end, but he also likes seeing how fast he can make you finish.

Risk— He loves trying out new stuff. If you suggest it, he won't hesitate to try. New position? Sure! A gag? Hell yes!

Stamina— What do you think? He can go for hours! Hours and hours and even more! Still, he prefers to give you a break between every few orgasms if you go for so long.

Toy— Oh, toys… he loves these, too. Dildos, vibrators, beads, flesh lights… all of them. If you like it, he loves it. Most of them, he likes using on you, though…

Unfair— He hates teasing you! He wants you to finish as soon and as much as possible. He does like it if you tease him, though. The way you get all cocky turns him on all the more.

Volume— He's surprisingly quiet. He only really lets out the occasional grunt or barely audible whine. Most of the sounds he makes are just pants and huffs.

Wild Card— He absolutely loves eating you out (males and gals alike). The way your walls hug so tightly around his tongue when you squeak and whine is just so perfect.

X-Ray— 9 inches and very thick. Good luck with that lol

Yearning— He's always needy and begs for intercourse. If you say no, he'll leave you alone, but still … you will be fucked into oblivion at his next chance

Zzz— After you're done, he's done. He'll cuddle up with you and make sure you're fast asleep and not waking up anytime soon before passing out himself.

#x reader #lmk macaque #lmk headcanon #headcannons #smut #writing #macaque x reader

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corpsebasil · 1 year

Text

Love Me Harder

DONT TOUCH ME RN IM JUMPING AROUND THE ROOM

When Ethan accidentally hurts his girlfriend, his fear of hurting her again makes him push her away.

He’d cut you.

So shallowly it was practically a scratch, but you still slapped a hand over your arm as you stared, wide eyed, at Ghostface. You could’ve sworn he’d pulled back, had tried not to do it, when he jumped away from you almost as fast as you did from him. And then Tara was grabbing you, yanking you after them, even as it took Ghostface half a second to recover his senses and give chase.

You’d refused very adamantly to go across the ladder. You were the last one in line, shaking as you looked at the drop. Anika went before you, encouraged by Mindy and Sam to hurry the fuck up, and she’d just made it across to the window beyond when Ghostface burst into the room.

He took one look at you and paused; you were trembling, gripping the windowpane, your eyes glued to the long distance below. Your fear of heights was so bad you could hardly take an elevator, let alone crawl across a ladder to a window several feet away.

“I cant do it.” You wept, shaking your head as your friends screamed at you, urging you to come on. You turned, your panic rising as you saw Ghostface approaching slowly, your cries coming faster and more frantic. “I cant do it please don’t hurt me don’t—” Your scream was abruptly cut off when he passed you, moving to toss the ladder onto the ground below.

Effectively trapping you.

Tara was sobbing loudly as Mindy yelled out curses; you were sure Anika needed to go to the hospital. You were praying someone had called the police.

“Would you hurt a defenseless damsel in distress?” You asked, feeling hysterical as Ghostface turned his head, fixing that cold mask’s stare onto your shaking frame. You inched away, eyeing the bedroom door. “Wait look, what’s that!” He actually looked, turning, when you pointed behind him. Then you ran for it. “No!” You screeched as he tripped you, your body crashing down onto the carpet.

And just as you were sure you were going to die, all because you saw that scene from Nerve and didn’t feel like reenacting it, you heard shouting and cop sirens coming from downstairs and outside. You looked over your shoulder; Ghostface pointed his knife at you, as if in warning, and fled.

Now you sat on the edge of an ambulance, Tara’s hand laced with your own. Your tears had long since dried on your face but you still trembled. Anika had been rushed to the hospital, the police insisting the rest of you stay at the scene, but you’d been told it was uncertain if she’d live.

Mindy had torn into you over your resistance to cross the ladder, but, after seeing your haunted expression, had went on to thank you for letting Anika go first. If you’d have crossed and then froze, paralyzed by fear of falling, she would’ve been left to die.

“Y/N.” Tara whispered, giving your hand a squeeze. You looked up and saw Ethan, a concerned look on his face as he ducked under the crime tape and moved towards you.

Chad gave you a warning glance and moved off off of the ambulance; he was as protective of you as if you were his own sister and as you watched him grab your boyfriend and slam him against a car, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude at his protectiveness. But you still tensed up, rising a bit from your seat to help.

“Dude, I was in a study hall with a hundred other people. You can ask any of them.” Ethan was saying as you stood.

“Y/N, don’t.” Mindy warned, grabbing your hand as Tara shot you a surprised look. “He could be Ghostface. We can’t trust his ass.”

“I trust him.” You argued, pulling away from her and moving to Ethan. Chad shook his head at you, disapproving, even as you pushed past and wrapped your arms around the brunet boy.

“Oh my god.” Ethan gasped, seeing the bandage wrapped around your arm. He hugged you back, but hesitantly. You’d ignored the way he seemed to stiffen when you held him, but felt a twinge of hurt when he pulled away too quickly. “Who?” He asked, nodding towards the jumble of police officers.

“Quinn.” You said, sniffing, and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand. “And Anika got stabbed. She’s in the hospital—they don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“And you—” an odd look crossed his face as he took in the sight of your arm again.

“I’m fine.” You told him, eager for him to hold you again, but he didn’t. He seemed to take a step back, away from you, like he didn’t want you to touch him. “I couldn’t cross the ladder. He almost had me, E.”

“That’s—” he swallowed. “That sucks. Im sorry.”

“That sucks?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at him. He was staring behind you, avoiding your eyes. You’d expected him to be upset; you’d almost died, and he didn’t even have the decency to look too unhappy about it? “Ethan what—”

“Come on, Y/N.” Tara called, but you only stared at Ethan, searching his face for any signs of grief or worry for your safety.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Your voice cracked and he finally looked at you, a frown pulling at his mouth. “Ethan?”

“I heard you.” He said simply and you felt like he’d punched you in the gut. You took a step away, your mouth trembling as he stared at you with a look of blankness.

“Y/N, come on. We’re going to check on Anika.” Tara called you again. The entire group was listening to this exchange. You felt mortified, and hurt, and slightly heartbroken. So you turned, trying not to cry as you climbed into the back of the ambulance, Tara immediately scooting in and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re at the top of my list.” You heard Mindy tell Ethan, but you didn’t look at him again, not until you heard Chad say something you couldn’t hear. You saw Ethan’s face grow pale, his eyes finding your own and, right before the doors of the ambulance shut behind the four of you, hurt and fear crossed his expression.

It had been days since he’d spoken to you.

The two of you hadn’t talked since the night at Tara’s apartment and you were growing more and more anxious by the day. You’d called him about a hundred times and, when you saw him at school, he dodged you. Your heart was breaking; you loved him, had thought he loved you, and he wouldn’t even speak to you.

So you found yourself at Chad’s dorm, knocking harshly against the door as you wiped the tears of frustration from your face. You didn’t know what to do—yell at him, break up with him, you didn’t know.

Chad opened the door, took in your expression, and shook his head.

“He uh, he can’t talk to you.”

“Why not?” You asked, pushing passed the boy and into the room. He grabbed your hand and, though you tugged, he was stronger than you.

“He’s in—I don’t know he’s been like catatonic the past few days. He says he doesn’t want to see you, I’m sorry.” When you stared, chest rising and falling at a rapid clip, he added, “maybe it’s for the best, Y/N.”

“Fuck that.” You snapped, wrenching your hand away, and moved to Ethan’s room. “You wanna explain what the fuck is going on?” You asked, opening his door and slamming it roughly behind you.

He was already standing, expression pained as you heaved for breath. Your heart was racing so fast you could barely think.

“Y/N, listen,” he started, in a calm tone that infuriated you. “it’s not your fault. I just think that maybe this isn’t working out and—”

“What? The day before we got attacked you said you loved me. You love me. And then all of a sudden, couple days later, and you just—don’t anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“No. You’re gonna tell me the real reason, E. It is because you’re afraid? Did me getting hurt freak you out so bad you’re pushing me away?” Then you paused, your breath hitching as tears began to slip down your cheeks. “Or did you lie? You—” You covered your mouth and turned away, unable to look at him.

“Y/N, please.” Ethan sighed, coming up behind you to touch your waist. He pressed his face against your shoulder as you cried, your body trembling as you fought the urge to sink back into his hold. “I didn’t lie. I love you.”

“Then why?” You breathed, turning to face him. His expression was the most agonized you’d ever seen it, and your stomach turned. “Why, Ethan?”

“I cant—” He shook his head once, twice. “I cant lose you. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Then stay with me. Be with me and we’ll stick together. Ghostface is dumb and we’re smart, remember? We can try and fight—”

“Please go.” He begged, resting his forehead onto your own. “This is hard for me. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, clasping his neck in your hands. Your fingers brushed against his hair as you looked at him, taking in the pained look on his face. “We’re a team? Aren’t we?”

He sniffed and nodded, allowing you to lean up and, as soft as you could, brush a kiss against his mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, holding you close to him. “I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay.” You told him, kissing him again, and allowed him tug you impossibly close, forgiving him with every inch of your being.

#she doesn’t even know his double meaning by sorry I hurt you #ethan landry #scream six #ethan landry angst #got me crying in the club #Jack champion

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Behind the Scenes - Pedro Pascal x reader/OC

NOTES (edited): parst two and three have been written as requested: Never Letting You Go and Perfect Date

Pedro’s POV

"You guys ready?" Adam's voice is muffled as he calls through the blanket the costume team have covering him as they want to do a big reveal of the Bloater costume. Everyone cheers and we call count down to one before the blanket is dropped.

There's a small squeak and a hand is grabbing my left one tightly. Turning my head away from the most impressive bit of cgi and prosthetic I've ever seen I'm greeted by Y/N - Bella's older sister. She's got her eyes squeezed shut and her grip on my hand tightens as there's a mixture of fear and disgust on her face.

"It's okay," I wriggle her hand out of mine, ignoring her protests, so I can wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into my side. She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face in my neck without thinking and it's nice.

Bella catches my eye, wiggling her eyebrows as Adam disappears back into the costume trailer to get out of that slimy suit. I hold Y/N for a few more minutes as people dissapate back to where they came from or their stations.

"Come on mama," I coo, watching the way her cheeks go a bright shade of red when she steps away and her emerald eyes struggle to raise to meet mine.

"I.. uh… I should-" She points to where Bella and Nico are talking before scurrying over to them. The younger girls take one look at Y/N and burst into laughter, Nico acting out a fake swoon with her hand pressed to her forehead. Y/N doesn't hesitate to throw Nico over her shoulder and sprint off somewhere with the younger girl shrieking with even more laughter and Bella chasing after them yelling about giving her best friend back.

I can't help but chuckle at the chaos of those three, the back of my mind yelling at me to go after Y/N as I'm missing the feel of her body against mine. It felt natural to have my arm around her and the feel of her lips brushing my neck even if accidental.

——————

The next time I see Y/N she's curled up on one of the couches we have on set, head dropping then flying up as if trying not to fall asleep. Bella's sat next to her, on her phone, not paying attention to her older sister.

"Oh my god," Nico appears next to me, scaring the absolute shit out of me. She always just appears out of goddamn nowhere and it's become a thing on set, "Go over there right now."

She's shoving me in the Ramsey sisters' direction so I do as she says, walking over to them and sitting in the open space between the two. Bella grins up at me before being called away by Nico, a knowing look passing between them that has my blood running slightly colder as they're up to something.

"Oh, hey Pedro," Y/N's sleep filled voice is even more beautiful than her normal voice, words slurring slightly as she rubs her eyes sleepily. I shrug off the jacket I'm wearing and ball it up into a pillow shape before placing it on my lap. Y/N meets my gaze before practically collapsing on the makeshift pillow, out like a light. I shift a little so I can comfortable rest an arm over her shoulder and scroll through social media while she gets her much needed rest.

She eventually shifts onto her back, her face turned towards me as soft sounds leave her plump, pretty pink lips. She looks so peaceful and it always surprises me how different Y/N and Bella look despite being siblings. Y/N has reddish auburn hair while Bella's is dark brown and while Bella has such a boyish build Y/N's is all soft curves. Her skin blemish free except a small silver scar that crosses over the left side of her lips and freckles decorate her cheeks.

Before I can stop myself I'm caressing her cheek, heart pounding at the way she snuffles slightly before leaning into the touch. Oh god, I'm in love.

Too soon set are calling for me and Bella to continue filming. I don't want to walk her but I can't get up without disturbing her so I shake her gently. She groans softly and her eyes flutter open, looking around before meeting mine where I'm leant over her. Her cheeks fill with colour again as she flies up as if being caught doing something she shouldn't.

"Here," I hold out my jacket for her to take as I stand, raising an eyebrow when she hesitates before she takes it with a quiet 'thank you'.

———————

We don't cross paths again until we're filming in Canmore. It's freezing and not many people want to spend their free time outside so it's also been quite quiet for all of us. I've seen glimspes of Y/N and Bella outsides of filming but there's an ache in my chest that I'm not going to give anyone the satisfaction of admitting Y/N is the only one who can fill it.

Y/N's on set today, playing a background characters from Jackson. She looks gorgeous as ever, the snowy backdrop making her ethereal looking, that blush when she meets my gaze brighter than ever.

The shooting goes by quickly before Bella and I collapse on the couch, both wrapped up in hoodies and jackets. She begins to excitedly show me some more fan edits that have been made in the last few weeks, some from being on set. I love my fans so much, I mean I am their cool slutty daddy.

Y/N stumbles over, nudging at my knees which makes me look up at her in confusion. She doesn't speak, prying my legs apart before dropping to the floor between them so she can rest her back on against the sofa and her head on my knee. The innocent action of her dropping to her knees now imprinted in my mind forever. The things she does to me.

I continue to converse with Bella and watch edits and clips with her while my hands subconsciously begins to card through Y/N's hair as she's on her phone. The moment is perfect and I wish we could stay like this but of course it doesn't last long because Bella's being called to film. She's about to do the part with her and David while Joel is injured.

My hands move from her hair to her shoulders, massaging the knots. Her hand that was holding her phone drops into her lap, head falling against my knee and a beautiful sound leaving her lips. The sound goes straight to my crotch and it finally breaks my resolve.

I'm tugging her up, slightly surprised how pliant she is in my hands, before making her face me. Her gaze falls to mine and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip before she's gasping when I grab her hips and yanking her onto my lap. She shifts a bit so her knees are comfortably either side of me and I don't loosen the tight grip I have on her hips until she's settled.

"God, you're perfect," I breathe, our faces inches apart as I brush my thumb over her bottom lips, relishing in the way her breath hitches. It's all it takes for me to tangle that hand in her hair and pull her into a bruising kiss. She retaliates, teeth nipping at my own bottom lip before letting out a gasp as I press her hips down against mine with my other hand. It's sloppy, hot and everything I've wanted from Y/N.

I grip her chin, guiding her into a dirtier kiss and relishing in the way she's so malleable, letting me lead. Daring to deepen the kiss I brush my tongue across her lips, groaning when I taste the strawberries I saw her snacking on earlier.

"Fuck," She utters as I begin to trail lips down her neck, leaving no exposed skin untouched. I want to worship every part of her; wanting to hear every little sound I draw from her-

"Ahem!"

Y/N's shrieking and tries to scramble off my lap by my hands tighten and she just buries her face in my jacket, not wanting to see who caught us. The person being Gabriel and he's wearing a shit eating grin.

"I'm glad you too stopped dancing around each other but you may have just scarred Bella so this," He waves a hand at us, a teasing lilt to his tone, "Keep it safe when not in your trailers."

Trailers. The thought of Y/N spread out below me in my trailer has me just about ready to carry her there now but I don't want to rush this. I want this to be perfect; I want us to be perfect.

"I want to ruin you," I growl experimentally in her ear once Gabriel's gone and she mewls, pressing her body against mine but keeping her face hidden. I guide her back, so she can meet my gaze before I say, "I don't want to rush us though. I want us to go at your-"

"Take me to your trailer and ruin me."

"Yes ma'am."

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #Pedro Pascal x female reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #bella ramsey #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n

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drewharrisonwriter · 8 months

Text

Donor | Drabble | Dirty Dancing

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is a drabble for my Henry Cavill fic Donor. English is not my first language. Darling bestie found Hank's dancer doppleganger.

Also, guys, I made a GIF. LMAO 🤣

One lazy Saturday evening, you were once again lounging on the couch, your legs stretched out comfortably and a tablet in your hand.

You had been absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, a guilty pleasure of yours recently, when suddenly, a video caught your eye.

The Grand Theatre had uploaded a sneak peek of the upcoming production of Dirty Dancing. The camera panned to the cast, and there was Michael O'Reilly, leading the cast in a rehearsal of an iconic dance scene. You snorted, trying to stifle a laugh.

The catchy music and impressive choreography were enough to entertain you, but what had you trying to hold yourself back from laughing hysterically was the comments section. People were flooding the comments, pointing out the uncanny resemblance between Michael O’Reilly and a certain someone.

You finally burst into laughter, catching Henry's attention from the carpeted floor next to you on the couch. He looked up from his book, a quizzical expression on his face. "What's so funny?"

Still giggling, you turned the tablet toward him, showing him the video. "Look at this! It's the cast of the new Dirty Dancing rehearsing, and Michael O'Reilly is literally doing the lift!"

Henry's eyes widened as he watched the video. "First of all, that's impressive," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But what's got you laughing so hard?"

You couldn't contain your mirth as you scrolled down to the comments section. "Read these comments!" you exclaimed, handing the tablet to Henry.

As he read the comments, his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Is it just me, or is Michael O’Reilly literally Henry Cavill?"

"Wait a minute, are we sure Henry Cavill isn't moonlighting as a dancer?"

"I see Henry Cavill wearing a disguise! No way that's not him!"

You couldn't contain your laughter as Henry read aloud some of the comments out loud. Henry watched the video again with a raised eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Are they serious?" he chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the screen. "I mean, I get it. Michael and I might share a resemblance, but I promise you, I'm not secretly moonlighting as a dancer."

Kal let out a playful woof, seemingly agreeing with Henry's sentiment.

"But…" He said, pausing the video, and pointing at it. "I can definitely lift you like that." He winked at you, his voice carrying a playful undertone that sent a shiver down your spine.

You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard, your voice still laced with amusement. "Oh, really now? Are you suggesting we audition for a remake?"

Henry's eyes glinted with a suggestive gleam, his grin growing devilish. "Well, I can't speak for my dance skills in that level, but I'm quite confident in my lifting abilities."

Your laughter blended with a mixture of delight and flirtatiousness. "Is that so? Maybe we should practice then, just to be sure you've got it down."

Henry's laughter joined yours, the atmosphere between you growing charged with playful energy. "Practice makes perfect, after all."

"I still can't believe people are convinced it's you! Maybe you do have it in you to make it in the theatre world."

Henry shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. "Well, I guess it's always good to have options if this acting thing doesn't work out."

You laughed again, your sides practically hurting from the sheer hilarity of it all. It was moments like these that made your life with Henry so special – the ability to find joy and humor in the simplest of things.

Henry's laughter joined yours as he handed the tablet back to you. "Well, I must say, I've always had a hidden talent for dance."

You playfully rolled your eyes, finally coming down from the high of the situation. "Yeah, just keep it hidden, Hank." He responded with a playful swat to your arm.

"And don't let your newfound dance skills overshadow your other talents," you teased, a gleam of humor in your eye.

He got on his knees and leaned over the couch, his chin resting on your shoulder. "And what talents might those be, my love?"

His voice dipped into a slightly husky tone, his gaze smoldering with a suggestive spark, nuzzling his nose against your ear.

A playful grin curved your lips as you turned your head to meet his gaze. "Oh, you know... the kind of talents that require a bit more privacy and a lot less clothing."

His deep chuckle reverberated through the room, his lips brushing against your neck. "Well, in that case, perhaps we should put this tablet away and focus on exploring those talents." he murmured, gently taking the tablet from your hands and drawing you into a passionate kiss that left no room for further words.

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme @angelcavill66

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deafsignifcantother · 1 month

Text

is that enough? (nsfw)

♥ summary: asa comes home from the most irritating kill he's had so far, and is less affectionate to his wife as a result. she is not impressed by this behavior at all, and tries to find a way to [stubbornly] cheer the both of them up [very stubbornly].

♥ relationship: asa emory x wife deaf reader

♥ word count: 4.3k

♥ warnings: reader is a brat, lots of murder talk, sex scene ends with a time jump and doesn't finish tbh bc i just wanted to form a story around the paragraph he says LOL.

✦

When I said I would l die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.

✦

You continue to shift around in your bed, the room so dark except for one beam of moonlight. For the last hour, you've gone from staring at the ceiling to lying on your stomach against a pillow.

Asa was not back by now, which raised no such concern; you were just annoyed. He knew precisely what was expected and what time you wanted him home (giving a curfew to a killer? only you).

And alas, as you lay on your side and stare out of the window, you notice the reflection of your bedroom door opening. Asa's head peeks in. His eyes are dull; it's the only detail you can point out in the dark.

You instantly turn and hold your hand out for him to touch. He doesn't respond to you or acknowledge you at all, only stares. His eyes hold no compassion; he stares right through you. It takes a few seconds before he even moves. Your eyebrows furrow while you watch him shut the door before he climbs into bed beside you.

You wrap your arms around him and kiss his shoulder. Is he trying to unease you on purpose? Possibly, or else it's something that happened while he was out.

He's entirely still except for the slow breaths he takes. Noticeable only by the whites of his eyes, he's looking at the ceiling. If he continues acting like this, you'll run up, turn on the lights, and shove your hands in his face.

With the instincts of a devoted husband, he adds motion to the moment of stillness. He lifts one hand. The dark almost silences him. "What?"

You let out a small laugh through your nose. You curl up into him, placing a hand on his chest in case he wants to communicate more--explain himself.

Your throat rumbles as you hum, trying to make out Asa's facial structure, wondering if your voice can get him to smile. But he's unresponsive for more and more seconds until, finally, he moves again; he takes your wrist and uses your hand to sign the word tired on his bicep.

Tension is subtle; it worsens when he turns his back towards you. You gasp and immediately climb over him like the clingy wife you are. You push him onto his back and straddle him.

Your head rings with apologies that you know will come bursting through. If he pushes you off, you won't even argue. In this position, you realize the moon's light hits you, and he can see what you sign to him: "Stop lying to me."

His eyebrows furrow slightly in surprise, and he stubbornly remains still. You have grown quite bold with him. He looks up at you as you glare down at him with your head tilted slightly. The look on your face makes him want to smile, but he needs some entertainment; what can irritate you for the next few minutes?

Both of your hands rest on his chest, and you feel the rough texture of his shirt, one you swore you ironed this morning.

Stubbornly, you remain quiet.

He finally decides to say something, his signs abrupt and aggressive. "I killed someone tonight."

Did you get any blood on the bed when you laid down?

You scowl. "I thought you killed someone every night. Don't take it out on me."

He is visibly unimpressed by your reaction to his confession. You cross your arms, body shuttering, when you realize he had rested his hands on either side of your thighs with only the tips of his fingers touching you. As soon as your body reacted with goosebumps, he lifted his hands again to respond.

"Are you not even a little bit shocked? Are you concerned?"

"Obviously, I'm concerned; this seems to be affecting you." When you sign, your entire body jolts with each sharp movement. "But again, don't take it out on me."

Asa continues to gaze back at you, his expression still not budging an inch. He holds a blinkless stare before responding. Though his signs are not as harsh, his face shows slight annoyance. "You're not concerned about the person I killed. You're more concerned about how it affects me."

You soften a lot, submissively. Yes. You look out the window in deep thought, signing, not focusing on whatever your hands decide to convey. Asa is insanely intrigued by your demeanor. He's remained in the same position throughout your fidgeting, with his eyes following your every movement.

He continues, "This time is different. The way that woman acted was complete defiance," he pauses, "She annoyed me."

"A woman?" You cross your arms, going on the defense. Even though Asa just mentioned killing the girl, you are clearly unimpressed just by the fact that he was talking about her at all.

Though your sudden defensiveness didn't bother him, it was enough to at least raise his eyebrow slightly and pique his curiosity. Your jealousy is amusing and endearing. He knows you understand your role as a wife. You had no reason to be jealous, as he had wholly devoted himself to you, so your jealousy couldn't possibly stem from a genuine concern. Your attitude was enough to make him try and sit up a little more. "Yes. A woman."

You remain quiet, not knowing how to respond. You are grateful to have finally cracked Asa's stiffness. He's charming and always flusters you with his body language.

His hands hesitantly touch your sides, taking his time, one by one, each pad of his fingers making contact with the skin of your thigh. Your spine straightens. He caresses your legs and trails his hands across your skin. Your breath hitches, feeling how cold his hands are. "Was it relieving when you killed that woman?"

At first, Asa doesn't answer your question. Instead, he caresses you. He's relenting and giving you the mood you want from him. You relax more and more under his touch.

He removes one hand, "Relieving?"

He removes the other to form a comprehensible sentence. "Of course, I felt some form of relief. That's the whole point of what I do."

"'That's the whole point of what I do.'" You mock him before going earnest again. "You don't usually talk about it like that, Asa."

How long have you been fighting the urge to act with this much conviction and attitude? Perhaps this resulted from your jealousy; your emotions were most definitely amusing, though. You are a real handful, and you're starting to make it more evident than before.

"I'm just being honest," he replies.

One of his hands returns to your leg, his thumb running against your skin in an attempt to soothe you. "Why do you ask?"

A car driving by lights up the room. You can see his face and how soft his beautiful brown eyes have gotten. His eyes don't match his signing at all.

You smile. "I just like hearing about it. I'm happy you killed her, even if you don't want me to say so."

He lets out a small chuckle as you lean forward and press a small kiss to his temple. You have grown quite bold in your jealousy. He doesn't mind this sudden side of you; it certainly excited him. "You like it when I talk about my actions?"

"It's thrilling," you bluntly admit. "You torture people, but you're so loving to me. What an amazing feeling."

The look on his face puts butterflies in your stomach. With soft nudges, he sits up in bed, letting you move to sit across from him. The moonlight is ideally on his face; he squints his eyes.

You can't help but put your forehead before you kiss him.

Knowing his violent tendencies and brutal actions were enough to excite his wife was the best feeling in the world. You think about his vows and how he had sworn to protect you; he was so powerful, and it made your heart pound and gave your stomach butterflies when he declared that to you.

"Why does torture and death thrill you so much?" His eyes glow with amusement.

"Have we not had this conversation before?" you sign before placing your hands on the bed, kissing his cheek, and sitting on your knees beside him. "I adore you and everything you are."

"I see. My violent thoughts and murderous tendencies are appealing..." He leans up and kisses the side of your face. His hand trails towards your neck. A giggle leaves you, and you lean away slightly, signing the word desire, the movement of your hands slow and flirtatious. He touches the skin of your neck, tracing each ridge of your trachea. You lift your chin and let his fingers examine you.

When he touches your pulse, he smiles and pulls away.

You touch your fingers to your pulse to see if your heart is genuinely going that fast.

With more restraint, he places both hands on your head and pulls you into a kiss. He goes backward, his back landing against the bed while your chest lays flat on his. Your hands instantly go on either side of him to prop yourself up; with his strong grip on your hair, you cannot pull away. His hip bones poke the inside of your thighs; no matter how much you shift, you can't escape the feeling.

One of your hands instinctively flies to his neck, where you press the back of your hand to his throat, feeling the deep grumble of his grunts. He snatches the hand and places it back on the bed. One of his hands goes under your shirt, dragging his fingertips across your skin, just missing the sensitive parts of you. Your skin lights up his heart and tightens his chest. It has always been clear that his love and lust for you would always be unconditional; he can't help but wonder how long he would be able to maintain his composure, knowing you longed for violence the same way he did.

His hands went past your ribcage and towards your hips; a line of goosebumps crossed your skin, and your back arched a bit from the feeling, almost ticklish.

His lips form a smile before trailing down the sides of your neck. He kisses, traveling across your skin to your collarbones, and stops there for only a few seconds. His breath is hot on your skin, and you can almost feel his lustful desires in the way his hands roam your body. Your mouth releases a small squeal, and you hold onto the back of his head, tilting your head away from him to give him more access. You were giving him more access to your neck so easily.

Though he did give in eventually, he lightly kissed and nicked your neck, making you shiver slightly. When he finally gripped onto your hips, you wrapped your legs around his waist, giving no sign of resistance to him. The way your body feels against his is irresistible, and it takes every ounce of his will strength not to suddenly start gripping your thighs and hold you firmly down.

You didn't even know what you were begging for, but your legs tightened around him.

His breath is hot against your skin, and he groans, sending vibrations against you. With one hand propping himself up, he uses his other one to grab your fingers and place small kisses onto them. He could feel his body responding to the mere sound of your tiny squeals. His hands slip under your body and caress your thighs. The word soon is noticeable against you. Kisses and licks trail down your neck, your hands resting on his shoulders, sliding up to the back of his neck lovingly, a sensual touch, a shiver running down his skin. The way you touch him adds to your cute charm; he kisses you, hands wrap around your body, and touches are rougher and more possessive than before.

You grab his hand and put it between your legs; you bite onto his bottom lip, both confident and uneasy. He grunts, lips stinging from your teeth. You are making this a very tempting experience.

You grasp at his shirt and try to pill it up, signaling to him that you want him to take it off. His hand is teasingly stiff between your legs. He has it right where you put it, but he offers no further indulging.

Your voice cracks pathetically, "Baby."

He enjoys every second of this. He starts being gentle, resting his hand on your underwear and palming you in slight movements.

Beyond his composure, his breathing is heavy.

You pant desperately at the contact from his fingers; the sound is loud and primal, and your back arches.

Your hands move sporadically. "Tell me about how you kill them."

He doesn't remove the hand from your underwear when he responds. "I'm not telling you that, sweet girl."

"Please."

A million words are running through your mind. You must fight every itch to close your eyes; you don't want to miss anything Asa might say. His mind is focused on how plush your pussy lips feel underneath your underwear. He starts rubbing his knuckles against you, the sharp joints sending particular sparks.

"Eventually." One of his knuckles bluntly runs over your clit, and you jump from the contact.

"Please." When you sign, your mouth moans, practically shaking his body. Your toes curl as you try your best to maintain your composure, but your thighs start to spread wider. The way your hands start working at his belt makes him smile broadly. He watches you move with pure amusement.

You open his belt and take it out with a single pull, fingers shaky while you quickly attempt to undo his pants.

Asa is taken aback by your sudden movements, his smile only growing sadistically. He's impressed and so in love with you. He helps you unzip his pants, taking it all out in one motion. The way your hands shake is a sight that gets him even more riled up. You move and scoot up on the bed, angling yourself so your upper back can comfortably lean on the headboard.

Just you being this entranced by him makes him want you even more. His touch is getting more aggressive, passionate, and possessive, just as you craved it. The sound of you panting drives him crazy, the shuffling of you taking off your underwear for him.

"Come on, Asa," you desperately motion him close. "Show me that you love me."

He larks onto you. Your toes work at the band of his pants. The way you stare at him while he pushes his fingers into you is an incredible sight. He can't hold back when, in powerful eye contact, you stare at him while the most salacious sound leaves your hips. His body shakes with excitement, and his face looks lusty. Your mouth goes agape, and in embarrassment, you cover your mouth with your hand. He's being considerate by even continuing to finger you and not take you right this very second.

You reach down in a desperate attempt to pull his pants down. Your fingers are weak, and you always get so consumed by pleasure that you can't even think straight. Your husband has learned the best ways to touch you. It drives you crazy.

He removes his hand and signs, lowering his head to inch closer to you. "Is this how you plan on showing your submission and obedience to me? By squirming, growling, and whining like a dog?"

You stare at him with such lust and pleading in your eyes. Time slows as he takes in your expression, your submissiveness.

He jumps to the present when your legs wrap around his waist. You pull him down so fast that he has to press his hand on the headboard to hold himself up.

"Tell me," you come across as commanding now. "Tell me how you kill them."

You caught him entirely off guard. The suddenness of it all makes it even more alluring to him. How you look deep into his eyes pushes him to desire to fulfill your every wish.

"...I'm not telling you." He signs back, his face stern.

"Why?" You growl and tighten your legs around him. Your bodies rub against each other in a stimulating friction. You put an attempt to stop your trembling like you're not on the verge of begging him to fuck you.

"Because I'm in charge here, not you."

"No. Tell me."

Your hand goes down his body and grabs onto his dick, stimulating him and trying to coax him. Your body heats up at your own actions.

You're adamant about having your way. "Tell me," you repeat with one hand. "Tell me, I want to know."

If you continue this way, it'll make him want to pin you down and take you in the most aggressive way imaginable. He stares deep at your eyes and stares deep at your lips.

You smile, not giving up, your hand gripping him tighter, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Tell me about how you kill them," you hope that continuing to ask will make him relent out of annoyance. You decided that if he told you that, you'd guide him inside of you as a reward.

"I will not tell you a thing." He can't stand your insistence anymore.

"Why?" You stop stimulating him, and you remove your legs from his waist, falling onto the bed. He notices that your knees are still spread by his side, giving him room to take whatever he wants. It's both aggravating and frustrating. The fact that you're trying to play this dominance game doesn't sit well with him. He's been too lenient on you.

"...Because there's no need for you to know the details about how I do my killings. All you need to know is the results. Now, shut up and stop pestering me."

"But," you bite your lips with a groan. Your cheeks get warm, and you decide between apologizing and pleading. "It'll turn me on."

Your signs force him to lock eyes. Your expression of shame and embarrassment is very compelling. He smiles and eggs you on. Maybe he will give you what you want. "How?"

"You're handsome. Your hands are big and aggressive; I want to know what they can do." You sign with both hands in a restrained way. "I want you to fuck me as you tell me."

The words make him grin with desire and arrogance.

"Beg me to continue. Beg me to tell you about the killings while you spread yourself open for me."

"Please, sweetheart." You writhe at the sight of his demanding eyes. "Please tell me, please touch me, and tell me how violent you are and how much you terrorize people."

Your eyes are soft and pleading as you continue, "And pleasure me as you do so, I need you, and I want you to control me."

Your begging is something that never fails to drive him completely crazy.

His next sign is simple, his hands become very busy lifting your pelvis. "Fine."

The muscles of your thigh tense as you prepare yourself for him to finally fill you. You love how stern he's acting. You continue begging in hopes that he won't change his mind. "Make me cum, tell me how dangerous you are. I want to see the blood on your hands and hear about what you do to people."

He keeps his eyes on your hands. He verbally repeats your last sentence to himself under his breath. Astonishing, you are. He lets you press yourself closer to him to align him with you. Your hand flails the same sign; tell me.

It's amusing. Asa pauses, no longer continuing, just staring at you. How your two eyes meet feels like a mix of passion and danger. He smiles and hums to himself, moving his hands down to grip your ass. You try to reach down to press him into you, but he moves your hands away, shaking his head teasingly. He's hard and just over your dripping hole; his tip is making contact with your folds and how warm they feel. The wet sound that your labia has, his breath hitching, his hands squeezing onto you, makes him want to take you even more aggressively. He tilts his head, leaning back a bit. He smiles and lifts his hands back up. "...What kind of details do you want to know?"

"I want to know how it feels to torture someone. What do you do?" Your hands move a bit slower, hesitant. "What do you think about?"

He pushes only a bit of himself inside of you. Your upper body relaxes, the light in the room exposing everything about you.

It's poetic.

You bend your pelvis to push him inside a little further. His eyes darken. It's charming, and it reminds you how much you love him. You're surprised he hasn't killed you already.

He puts pressure on your body to keep you still, to keep you from squirming away from him. He forces himself to go completely inside of you. You gasp, grasping his shoulders. He can see and hear your arousal and your voice. The way your body is now tightening around him in a way that doesn't allow him to move in or out is something that makes him enjoy the position he'll have you in. The way your muscles clench onto him brings him to the point of almost losing control.

You once again rewind the conversation. At the mere memory of how this started, you start getting annoyed again about how stubborn Asa is. Your walls pulsate around him in desire, but you don't give in to it just yet, even though your heart is pounding and your head is spinning. You lean back. "Tell me about how you kill them."

"Very violent and gruesome, just how you like it. Do you want me to continue?"

"Continue." Your thighs lessen their grip while you grind your hips against him pathetically, trying to urge him to move once you realize he's not. You growl, desperate, childish.

He stares down at where your bodies connect before making direct eye contact.

"Okay, and what about their screaming and pleading? It makes you so wet." He signs while distracted by how turned on you're getting per each of his lazy strokes. He penetrates you a bit faster and then proceeds to go back to moving slowly. It's as if he can feel your wetness dripping down your body now, soaking his hairs. Your mouth keeps releasing pathetic moans. You hadn't thought about an answer to that question before and didn't have the mind to make any sense of it.

"I need to hear about how dangerous you are as you treat me like I'm an angel," you admit as you place your hands on his shoulders and dig your nails into him.

He begins to pick up the pace more and more, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep you in place while he signs quickly to you. "I'm the most dangerous man you know. I'm the devil. I'm a savage and a monster. I've tortured women to death, ripped their families to shreds, and killed children, all just for my enjoyment. I've destroyed homes, lives, and relationships. I've left a trail of destruction through this city, which I've left bloody and scared. Is that enough?"

"Yes," your hands drop, and your signs are hardly comprehensible. Your body reacts to Asa as if he's been fucking you for hours. "Yes, baby, oh my god." His sentences linger in your head, and you bask in them, repeating them in your mind.

You put one of your fingers between your lips and bite onto the knuckles. The look in your eyes is of satisfaction and intense pleasure. He's finally given you what you want, and you're almost about to cum because of it.

The sight of your lustful eyes and the sound of your moans sends ripples of power through him. He is the one who ultimately controls you, the one you worship.

You squeal when he puts a hand under your knee, stretching your leg closer to you. You can hardly look at him with how dazed his cock makes you, but you're begging for him to tell you he's a killer once again.

You can feel how wet the both of you are, and you bite your lip at the disgusting feeling.

And towards the end of the night, the part of sex where he grips your face with his nails digging into your cheekbones, he keeps fucking his cum into you, not stopping until you've finished as well. Your dry lips let out moans and indecipherable sounds. Your thighs are around him, and your walls are pulsating; your eyes remain shut, and his body trembles at the sound.

✦

He loves it when you sleep by his side, your hand on his chest as you nuzzle into his shoulder. He'll keep his arm around you even after you wake up. There's something beautiful about how you find such comfort in his warmth, as sometimes he considered it a fault. The warmth of his body was a constant reminder that he was human, the same species as all in his collection.

He watches the hands on the clock as they tick. At first, he intended to hope up regardless of whether you were comfortable, as his museum needed tending. But today, he gives you mercy, letting you sleep for a few more minutes. I'll give them five minutes, which became ten and then twenty. The grumpiness overtook him (as if it wasn't his own decision that caused this). He just couldn't find it in himself to wake you up.

#asa emory x reader #asa emory #x reader #x deaf reader #x deaf s/o #slasher community #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

Text

of course

***Spoilers for the Stitch summer event below the cut!***

Of coooourse Azul and Floyd jump on the opportunity to extort their classmates while they’re stranded on a deserted island 😭 Such an Ursula moment when Azul asks the group what they’re willing to do to be rescued… 😭 Not Floyd suggesting they all be Octa’s errand boys until the end of time 😭 AnD NOT hIM CALLiNG AzUL NICE FOR LOWERInG iT TO “just” A WEEk???? 😭 Why are fish like this—

This is even funnier when you look back at Birthday Union/Jacket vignettes, where some characters are asked “If you could bring one person with you on a deserted island, who would you choose?”. Of the 6 characters featured in Lost in the Book with Stitch, Jack is the only one who was asked this question. He at first says he can survive on his own, and though he eventually provides Epel as his answer. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT??? Jack also states in the interview that he would not want to be stuck with anyone in Octavinelle because “they seem like the types to ask for compensation whenever they have to do something” 🤡 Which. Isn’t far from the reality they’re now experiencing…

Addendum: In Jack’s Labwear vignettes, Floyd asks Azul if they can “keep him”, as though Jack were a stray dog. Again, Floyd’s affinity for dogs reappears in the Stitch event, where he doesn’t want to hand Stitch over to Gantu.

Other related points from Union Birthday/Birthday Jacket vignettes (the other 5 were asked “if you could pick any student from NRC to be your sibling, who would you choose?”): Ace would pick Azul to essentially get free stuff I bet he’s regretting his decision right about now, eh, Floyd would pick Ace so Ace can take the fall for him in sticky situations why do I suddenly have a bad feeling for what’s to come, and Lilia would pick… FLOYD 😂 because Floyd is mischievous, challenges people, and keeps surprising him with unexpected things… Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure plenty of “unexpected things” are going to happen, whether the boys like it or not 💦

On a more serious note, I do find it interesting that we get formal confirmation that merpeople in human forms need to remove their clothes before returning to their true forms. (This was always assumed before, but was never explicitly brought up in scenes where they actually had to revert back, such as book 4, Vargas Camp, and the first Halloween event.) However, Azul and Floyd say that the Beachwear clothes must be magic because they can’t be removed. I’m assuming either it’s unsafe to revert while still wearing clothes or the magical clothes just prevent them from bursting out of it a la Vanessa to Ursula in The Little Mermaid:

It’s also implied that their human forms are not suited for swimming long distances (or at least they are not used to swimming long distances in human forms yet)?? Which makes me think their anatomy and physiology must become entirely human when they drink their usual transformation potion??? Like, I’m assuming there aren’t gills on their human forms (because they’d serve zero purpose) which could hinder swimming as a human. (For that one scene in book 3 where Azul joins the group at the Atlantica Museum, I always assumed he just drank one of those “breathing underwater” potions he gave out earlier in the book!)

Side note: thanks to this event for gatekeeping us from potentially getting a peak at Azul’s non-OB octomer form/j 🙄

#twst #twisted wonderland #Azul Ashengrotto #Floyd Leech #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #Ursula #The Little Mermaid #Vanessa #notes from the writing raven #Stitch #Jack Howl #Epel Felmier #Ace Trappola #Lilia Vanrouge #Gantu

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despairinthedeparturelounge · 2 years

Text

Dragon Fall

It's a war and Thranduil gets injured, you on the other hand must act quick.

Thranduil x Elf!F!Reader, Elrond x F!Reader

Warnings: mention of blood/death, it's not ansty though, reader is Elrond's daughter, happy ending.

Possible typos and bad grammar, like & Comments are very much appreciated

brennil nín : my lady

bui govad adar nín : i must see my father

Athon : we will

Mellnín : my dear

You took a sharp breath as the man next to you tried to clean your open wound,

It was still bleeding and cleaning the skin around it looked such a pointless action to be done over and over again but you promised to be seated on that chair and you did so.

The soldiers walked into the tent as one of them stepped forward and bowed down before talking, "my lady.."

"Where is he? Did you find him?"

You said rising to your feet immediately,

The soldier looked down without saying a word making you frown and walk another step forward, "did you find him? Answer me!" You shouted with shaky voice filled with fear and anger,

"No, my lady the king is nowhere to be seen"

Your anger turned into furiousness "then searched the unseen!" You burst out louder than before "lift every damned corpse human, elf or beast! I want him found!" You slammed your wounded hand hard on the wooden table before you making the men flinch in surprise "and do not come back unless you have done your duty! You heard me?"

Pointing your index finger swiftly to his face drops of your bloody hand landed on his face, "yes my queen."

You nodded "go now, faster" you command without a single emotion on your face.

He was there beside you before the dragon appear, you lost him there and moments later the land was divided in two and fire was everywhere burning the dead and alive, the scene was right before your eyes playing over and over again.

Wiping the tear from your cheek you felt the wetness of blood being spread on your face, "lady Y/n, you're bleeding,"

"I'm covered in blood i don't think a wound would do much different." You replied moving back to the chair you were sitting on previously.

You rested your head on your hand to close your eyes for a moment when a scream from outside of the tent caught your attention you quickly stood up to run out but the soldiers were faster to step inside while carrying a thing in their arms, placing the man on the table.

Your eyes found the capitan with the hope of answering your questioning eyes, his eyes met yours "we found him near the dragon fall" you gasped covering your mouth with your hand moving to the person he claimed to be your king,

You looked at his ringed fingers dirty with blood and mud reaching your fingers out to touch his, the warm of his hand calmed you down as you let out a shaky breath, "thran-"

You looked at the cloth covering his face, "the king is severely injured, we need to send for our healers at once"

You slowly removed the cloth to meet his burnt face and neck, your heart ached looking at him, your knees went weak feeling like they can't hold the weight of your body anymore.

You sobbed loudly squeezing his hand in yours as you kneeled down before him, "there is no time for that" you mumbled kissing his knuckles with your chopped lips, "but my lady"

You stood up with the help of table edge, still staring at his face wishing he would at least open his eyes, saving the picture of his damaged eye, gazing at him

"get half the soldiers remaining, those who can bear a trip," looking at your capitan with red teary eyes, "we shall travel to Rivendell, the faster the better"

"Should we send a messenger to inform lord Elrond first?" He hesitated at first

"That's a fine idea capitan" you gave him a faint smile as he bowed down giving you a certain look, you pointed to the exit allowing him to leave.

Your gaze found your lover again as his almost lifeless body was on the table with other elves treating his open scars, you could still smell the dragon breath on him, his hair and his armour, "give me a clean cloth"

You said looking at the elf standing next to you as she quickly handed you the wet piece and by that you started to clean the dried blood from his lips and remaining skin, "stay with me my love, you'll be fine"

You spoke softly near his ear

"We'll be fine and back home, don't you miss home?" Kissing his ear carefully you let your tears drop on his hair while caressing it, "you're gonna be so angry about your hair now"

"My queen, the ride is ready" you blinked a few times before standing up again, looking at your husband one more time you let go of his hand "tell the guards to carry the king gently, i shall leave to meet my father first"

"Yes my lady, i get your elk ready"

With the help of a maiden you wore a cloak over your ripped clothes, "is she alive?" You panted holding the cloak in your hand,

"Safe and sound my queen" you smiled out of relief, "that would do it then capitan."

Your solo ride to Rivendell was difficult due to all the injuries and burden you were carrying both on your body and mind, using only one hand to control your elk made your pace to be slower than what you actually wanted, hours have passed and you finally saw the gates of your town, removing the hood from your head allow the cool breeze to reach your hair,

Deep down you never liked the way your hair looked, the two colour opposite of each other, like they ran out of ink and under your hair remained colourless, brightly white. Whilst the top of it was brown, like how it was suppose to be, like your father, like your siblings.

Your father on the other hand adored it more than anything ever possible, calls it a blessing that you carry a bit more of your mother with you,

He made you value and take care of the gifts given to you.

The sound of waterfall made you open your tried eyes, "i need to see lord Elrond" you addressed the few guards that were standing before you.

The guards were still on the way of your elk, seems like it's been so long for them to remember you,

You thought, when a voice made them all step aside "brennil nín" the familiar voice made you smile as you tried your best to get off of the animal, "Kera.." you whispered the she-elf name watching her walk closer to the guards, "Kera, bui govad adar nín!"

"Athon"

She held your arm to help you walk the hallways, "Valar be good! we need to tend this wounds at once my lady" you immediately disagreed looking at her worried face "my father first, this matter is urgent Kera!"

"Mellnín"

"Ada.." the lamp in your throat grew larger when your father appeared from behind the doors of a chamber, you sobbed running to his open arms, "half his face is burnt ada, the wound looked awfully painful and... and i-" you gulped moving your hand to mimic the exact place of the scar and to talk all was in your polluted mind you talked faster and more breathlessly with tears running down your cheek,

"The messenger you sent arrived here, You did the right thing" the voice was calming and approved your worried eyes of the decision you made hours ago,

He held your face in his hands to wipe the tears gently with his thumb, "come, Vanimelda let us take care of everything." He said kissing your forehead while carrying you back into the chamber, holding your shoulder.

Your body yearned for anything that could silence the pain it was bearing around for too long now.

The high burning fever made it so difficult for you to keep an eye open and the tender touches your father would left on your face made it even harder, "rest a bit now, you're safe" the words faded away as your body gave in and let your eyes to be close finally.

It felt like it was just a bad dream, a bad night that could be escaped right after you open your eyes, "there my lady, can you open your eyes?"

You heard a voice from distance as your mind tried to make up pictures, your body was now pain free, bringing your hand to your neck and face you barely could sense the thing you touched but you could tell the fever was gone,

Your eyes suddenly flutter open with the realisation of where you are,

"Valar.... Thranduil!!"

You almost shouted jumping from the bed you were lying in, rubbing your eyes to fix your blurry sight you looked around the chamber, "my lady you need to rest more" walking to the door you fixed the shoulder of the gown you were wearing

"where's my father?" Shouting while walking away, the maids pointed to the closed door of your father's personal chamber, quickly making your way to the chamber you opened the heavy doors with all the strength left in you only to be greeted by half dozen of healer elves gathering upon a bed, "ada" you whispered stumbling inside to reach the bed you assumed Thranduil was on.

"Y/n he's fine, look at me!" He took your jaw in his hand forcing you to look at him, your eyes filled with tears again, "his injuries are not fatal my dear, he's a strong elf"

You sniffed tilting your head, "and you're even stronger, my strong girl. You make me so proud and worried at the same time like always." You smiled still looking at his kind eyes.

"I thought i lost him"

"You saved him, you saved a king and a realm and you brought me back my daughter" taking your cold hands in his, he softly opened your fist with his fingers "so many lives were saved because of you, the lady of Mirkwood" pressing your lips together you were ready to thank him for all he was done when a grunting sound came from his behind, you looked at your father once again when he allowed you to approach the bed,

kissing his hands you let go of them to make your way to your husband,

"Meleth nín" you mouthed sitting on the bed next to him immediately taking his wounded hand, your touch made him try to open his eyes but the light in the room still was too much for his sensitive eyes,

"Y/n...."

"Yes, yes i'm here, i'm right here!" Carefully you placed your hand above his face to make a shelter from the light, "open your eyes now slowly would you?"

Moving your face closer to him, he tried to open his eyes slowly because of the shadow you provided.

His eyes found you the moment they opened, you could see the injured eye, the damaged was made and it made you want to cry again.

"my love"

"Hello..."

"You're here" his expression soften taking the sight of you with his whole heart.

"Of curse i am!! Oh heavens i thought i lost you for a second" you cried out placing his hand on your heart, it felt like it was gonna come right out through your chest.

"Are you alright my love?" You nodded as he sat back with the help of two other elves, moving forward you tried to fix the cousions for his back to sit comfortably, the light dimming on your skin showed the bruises drawn all over it,

He brushed his hand on your back, "i'm so sorry"

You touched your shoulder when the weight of something on your body made you both look up,

Your father placed a cloak on your shoulders to cover your bare back before speaking

"Don't say that, you both fought with bravery"

Thranduil sat more straight still holding your hand

"Lord Elrond, i am so thankful for all you did,"

"Take all the time you need, and don't pay any mind to the scar we will get that fixed" he said smiling telling others to leave the room after him.

Moments after being alone you crawled completely onto the bed resting your head on his chest as he breath, tracing shapes on the shown skin from his unbotten top, the rising and falling movement of his chest and heartbeat made you smile bigger than ever possible,

"I heard all the sweet things you whispered, your voice was all in my ear"

You looked up without moving much from his embrace,

"It was torture not being able to answer you, to tell you that i'm fine"

"But you weren't fine"

He looked at you side ways smiling, "i am now, and so you are!" He kissed your forehead moving downward to your lips, giving them small kisses, "and we have someone waiting at home for us you know,"

He nodded kissing you once again

"We'll be there soon my love, i promise this"

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes observing the warmth of his hands, finally resting all the worries and washing them away.

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings imagine #lotr x reader #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #thranduil x you #thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil x wife #lord elrond #elrond

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punkeccentricenigma · 5 months

Note

Hey so can I get a scenario with rottmnt donnie who is genuinely excited over something and s/o stares at him for a moment and they snap out of it when they’re name is called and they’re like, no teasing, genuine love struck vibes from s/o, ”Oh. Sorry. I was admiring how cute you were being”?

DONATELLO X READER "How cute you look right now."

relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

Words: 1066

TW: some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: The first version of this request, in my opinion, was better, but due to my phone breaking, I lost all the finished work, so I had to rewrite it again. I hope you like it.

I also wanted to convey an important message. Due to the lost work, I lack the inspiration and energy to rewrite the rest. THEREFORE, IF SOMEONE HAS ALREADY REQUESTED ANYTHING AND HASN'T RECEIVED IT, PLEASE ORDER SOMETHING NEW BECAUSE I DON'T INTEND TO COMPLETE OLD ORDERS. I'M SORRY

The gentle scent of fuel irritated the nose of the [COLOR]-eyed teenager as they swayed lightly in the black chair. They were currently in Donatello's new workshop, which at the moment resembled a regular empty space with a few screens, half of them turned off. Their gaze shifted from their phone screen to a younger boy who had been sitting on the cold floor for hours, tinkering with one of the devices meant to refine the computers salvaged from the previous Lair.

"Get up," [Y.N] spoke, taking a soft pillow from her knees and standing up. Donatello looked at his _friend with a surprised look from beneath his two-colored goggles.

"What?" His voice slightly cracked, probably due to the dryness in his throat from neglecting such needs. The person rolled their eyes and lightly nudged his thigh with their foot, signaling him to move, and he did; he sat on the pillow.

"Better," a warm smile played on the teenager's lips as they gently stroked his head, causing a slight fondness within the turtle. He felt a bit embarrassed that someone else had to take care of him due to his neglect, but he desired to feel that tenderness, especially from his life partner. "How's the work going?" Their question snapped him out of his thoughts; his gaze returned to the colorful cables tangled in chaos.

Donnie sighed heavily, briefly taking off his half-mystical glasses. "There was progress at the beginning; I thought I'd finish it before lunch," he started, grabbing his phone on which he had drawn all the plans. "But something's not right! A little more, and I'll be asking for help on Reddit." The person immediately burst into quiet laughter, causing a lowering of the ninja's drawn eyebrows. Annoying, but he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

"Well, unfortunately, I'm not savvy in electronics, especially as advanced as this," They declared, pointing their hand at the scene before them. "The only way I can help is by bringing you food and drink; you're going to collapse here, Cutie Patootie." The boy snorted when [Y.N] stood up.

"You really shouldn't call me that!" The [COLOR]eyed shrugged in a mocking way, leaving the room. If he could tease them at times, why couldn't they take advantage of such situations? Maybe that's why their relationship lasted so long? Who knows.

"Woah!" They had to squat immediately to avoid being hit by a rubber chicken. "What the heck, Angelo?"

"Oh, sorry [Y.N], work accident!" Mikey spoke from behind the counter, wearing a pinkish apron. The teenager's eyes expressed shock and disbelief as they approached the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Angelo?"

"Chicken soup!"

"Chicken soup from a rubber toy chicken?!" [COLOR]-eyed elbows touched the wood as they leaned against the counter. Michelangelo furrowed his eyebrows, apparently offended.

"Excuse me! I'm making soup from normal ingredients!" his lips formed a curve. "This toy was for entertainment."

"…"

"Your pot is burning."

"NO!"

The boy immediately turned around, wanting to fix the situation, but after a moment, resignation was visible in his shoulder movements. "Well…" his voice didn't sound like he was pleased. "No lunch today?"

"Don't worry, my younger brother, we've got this covered!" [Y.N]'s gaze fell on the older ninja brothers entering the room; Leo held a box full of pepperoni pizza.

"Thank goodness," the teenager muttered quietly, grabbing a cup to pour regular cola into it. No matter how much they liked Michelangelo, they absolutely didn't want to try anything he cooked. With another swift move, they took two slices of pizza and left the kitchen, avoiding another whimsical situation created by those idiots.

"I'm back," the person skillfully pushed aside the curtain serving as makeshift doors. Without further words, they sat next to their boyfriend, lightly poking him in the side to finally get him away from the cables and take a piece of round food from them.

"Pizza?" Donatello completely removed his two-colored goggles, looking at the slice of dough in his hand with a surprised gaze. "Wasn't it supposed to be some kind of soup?"

"There was a little accident," the person bit into the edge of pepperoni, feeling a slightly prickly taste on their tongue. "I don't know if you want to know."

"Nah, I'll survive," he mumbled.

"How's the progress on that? Any breakthroughs?"

His black eyes suddenly brightened, as if his mind had been refreshed. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it! I finally figured out what was wrong! Quite strange that it took me so long, considering my recent notes…" as Soft-shell chaotically scrolled through his phone screen, eating a piece of pizza in the meantime, his voice faded into the background of [Y.N]'s mind as they increasingly focused on his face and movements.

A light pink blush appeared on the teenager's cheeks, along with a warm smile. They felt a tingling sensation, not causing them pain or anything of the sort, but rather stimulating their adrenaline, accelerating their heartbeat. No matter what Donatello was saying, [Y.N] eagerly listened, especially when he showed that positive energy and excitement—there's nothing more beautiful than seeing your loved one in that state.

"Hey, everything okay?" the person blinked a few times, seeing a slight concern on the young genius's face. Oh, apparently, they interrupted his monologue. "You seem a bit absent." Oh no, [COLOR]-haired knew that this might look like a simple act of ignorance; they had to fix it!

"S-sorry, D, I just…" a slight bite on their lip, it might sound cheesy. "I was just admiring how cute you look right now."

Donatello's mouth opened for a moment, as if he wanted to fend off some verbal attack, but his brain, for the first time in many years, didn't know what to think. It was… frustrating! He didn't expect something like this; he wasn't yet so accustomed to such sweet words and statements; he felt helpless.

He felt butterflies in his stomach, and a similar blush appeared on the dark green skin as on the person in front of him. "Is everything okay?" his dark eyes rested on his partner's counterpart, who asked a very similar question earlier. After a moment of silence, he chuckled softly, smiling gently.

"Thanks, I-it's nice to hear that." He averted his gaze, unable to hold it, and exclaimed loudly, "So, as I was saying…!"

#rise donnie x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x y/n #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Donatello #Donatello x reader #Punkeccentricenigma #fluff

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