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rebeliz7 · 9 months ago

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The Transporter

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Count: 2262

…

You were screwed.

You had two rules, two unbreakable rules. Two rules that have allowed you to survive for as long as you have in your line of work.

The first one was to never ask any unnecessary questions. Your job was simple. You transported packages, no matter what it was, no matter how far you had to go or how long it’d take you to get it to its destination.

You’ve gained quite a reputation because of that first rule, and you were never short on job offers because of it. People valued your work policy, because they valued their privacy.

You were, what the kids would call these days, a delivery person and that was the essence of what you did, only you mobilized very expensive and more often than not dangerous packages.

Your clients--were not good people, but that was not your problem. Of course you suspected it but to be quite honest, you never expected to be caught by the Avengers on your way back home after a well done job.

Long story short, they did catch you and they dropped you in a dark cell for months, and that was alright, you weren’t afraid because you didn’t know anything besides the addresses where you dropped off your packages.

You knew nothing about the packages you delivered, you never peaked and the only question that always interested you when a new job came along was, where do I take it?

“You ready to talk?” The Captain asks from across the table, and you grin at her. They’ve been doing this everyday for the last couple of months.

Each morning you’re taken to an interrogation room, where a new avenger is always waiting for you.

“What do you want to talk about today, love?” You ask her, and she pins you down with a hard stare.

This one lacks patience, but after months of answering the same questions with the truth and nothing but the truth, you do try to spice things up a bit every once and awhile. If only to keep yourself sharp.

“You do realize that you’re never getting out of here if you don’t give us something, right?” She asks, and you lean back to rest against the back of the chair.

“What do you want to know?” You ask her, if only to keep the conversation flowing. Every answer that you could have provided, you already have and they must know it too.

“Who hired you to pick up the suitcase from the airport?”

Oh, the infamous suitcase!

You knew that job was way too easy to be a good thing. It took you an hour to get it done. Easiest and fastest two million you’ve ever made.

“I got a text. I told them my fee. I got a deposit and I asked where I needed to take the suitcase. I dropped the suitcase, and that was it.” You recite the same thing that you always recite, and she glares harder.

“You didn’t ask who was hiring you? Or why did they need the suitcase at that building?”

“Rule number one: Don’t ask questions that don’t concern me.” You tell her and her glare intensifies, if that’s even possible.

“You know that doesn’t erase the fact that you’re an accomplice in a terrorist attack, right?”

That damned suitcase.

“I offer a service. I deliver packages. That’s all I do. Would you call the pizza guy that delivered in the same building before me an accomplice too?”

Her fists glow with dangerous intensity then, and in the blink of an eye you find yourself being pushed against the wall after she hits you with a blast.

…

You wake up in your cell hours later with a massive headache and every inch of your body hurting, so you quickly close your eyes again.

You refuse to fully wake up when you’re in this much pain.

…

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of your door being opened, and you sit up slowly. Your hand flies to your side as a stabbing pain makes you wince when you move, and you curse under your breath.

They’ve never laid a finger on you before, and you wonder if they’re finally about to try to beat the answers out of you, not that you have any.

“You pissed off the Captain.” A guard shakes his head, a mocking grin on his face as he looks at you. “Aren’t you tired? Just give them what they want.”

“Are you supposed to be talking to me?” You ask him, and he shrugs his shoulders before handing you a fresh towel and a change of clothes.

“Shower. You’re in for a new session in twenty.”

He leaves and with a lot of trouble, you do as he says.

…

The moment you enter the interrogation room you feel like you might pass out again, which reminds you of your second rule.

Rule number two: Never fall for someone involved in the deliveries. This rule applies, of course, to the Avengers who apprehended you too.

“You okay?” Wanda Maximoff asks, as an involuntary groan leaves your lips when you sit down.

You kind of like it when she’s the one in charge of your interrogation for the day, but today you feel like dying and not fully up to appreciate her company.

“Of course.” You smile, as you press your hand against your bruised ribs and you struggle to find a comfortable position to sit in. God, you feel like you’re not getting enough air into your lungs.

“What did Carol do?” She asks you with a frown on her forehead, and you try to smile again.

She’s attractive even when she’s frowning, which is totally unfair and completely distracting.

“Broke a few laws, I’m sure.” You can’t breathe properly and you swallow, if only to try to mask the pain you’re currently in.

“Does anything feel broken? Were you taken to medical?” She asks, as she stands up and you close your eyes.

“I don’t know.” You answer and when you try to move, the pain that envelops you is so massive that you become dizzy where you sit.

“Not even a painkiller.” You hear her murmur, before you stop fighting against so much pain and tiredness.

You fall to the ground, the hit making the pain you were already feeling a hundred times worse.

Wanda raises her voice and while she rushes to your side, you surrender to the darkness.

…

The next time you wake up, you do it in a slightier more comfortable bed than the one in your cell.

“I didn’t even touch her!” You hear the unmistakable voice of Carol Danvers yell, and you’re tempted to huff, but you know that would only make you cry out in pain. No, she didn’t need to touch you to almost break you.

“Her ribs are bruised. She passed out because of excruciating pain!” Wanda exclaims back, and you finally open your eyes.

You’re in the medical-bay and your eyes immediately fall on Wanda’s furious little face. Still attractive, that one.

“She’s a criminal,” Carol argues and you watch as Wanda’s fists begin to glow red with the midst of her powers.

“She’s a human being and you crossed a line.” Wanda tells her, and you’re caught staring at her face again.

She looks positively pissed, and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than she is.

“I agree,” Steve Rogers says as he walks inside the room as well. “Did you notice she’s awake?” He asks, his eyes trained on you.

“Hey, hi.” You smile and Wanda rushes to your side, or you think that she does.

God! You feel so woozy and nothing really hurts, and you think that maybe you’re a little bit high on painkillers. Just maybe.

“How you feeling?” Wanda asks you and you look at her, and you can’t help but---but feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur and her eyes widen. “Really, you are.”

She blushes and her eyes show nothing but panic as she looks at Steve, who is smiling goofily before letting out a breath.

“Painkillers?” He asks, and Wanda nods.

“Maybe something to help her sleep?” Wanda asks the doctor in the room, and when a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips, you smile back.

So beautiful.

…

You wake up with a start and a sharpening pain on your side. You’re in a much different room than the last one. You’re not in your cell, and you’re not in the medical bay either.

No, this is a much nicer room with a big fluffy bed and a huge flat screen hanging on the wall.

You’re about to stand up when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” you confusedly call out and the door opens slowly to reveal Wanda on the other side. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?” She asks and you nod, still confused. “You should be laying down. Minimal physical effort. Doctor’s orders.”

You nod, now feeling a little suspicious but you take her advice and lay down again. At least you can breathe a bit better now, and the pain isn’t as blinding as it was the last time you woke up.

“Care to explain?” You ask, as you struggle to grab the blanket.

“Here, let me.” She takes the blanket, and pulls it over your body before sitting down on the edge of the mattress, close to your legs.

She’s wearing an oversized light blue sweater that makes her look all kinds of comfy and you’re caught staring at her.

God! She really is the most adorable superhero ever. The most attractive one too.

“What Carol did was wrong,” she says and you roll your eyes playfully.

“I was being an ass. I shouldn’t have provoked her like that. ”

“She crossed a line. We don’t hit people in our interrogation rooms. We don’t torture prisoners. That’s not what we stand for.”

“I’ve been telling you guys the truth from the beginning. I know nothing about the packages I delivered. My lack of interest in the content of those packages is what kept me in business for so long in the first place.”

“I know,” she says it so casually that you instantly become suspicious. “We don’t make it a habit of reading people’s minds either. That being said, I did read yours yesterday when you were unconscious.”

You chuckle nervously, and immediately wince at the slight pain that it shoots through you with the action. If she was in your head---then she knows you’ve been crushing on her for a while now.

“I only did it because an idea occurred to us and we needed to be sure that you were telling the truth, before we did anything.”

“They call you the Scarlet Witch, y’know?” You tell her, and she grins at you.

You’re distracted, your mind is still trying to process the fact that she read your mind and she probably knows every single thing about you, and your attraction towards her.

“I know,” she softly says and your eyes stray towards her lips. God! It’s so unfair how attractive she is and how easily she can distract you with just her face.

“Natasha has been studying your profile,” she continues. “You do more than just deliver.”

“Natasha Romanoff?” You ask with a start, and she nods. “She’s been studying my profile?”

Natasha Romanoff is a legend, to put it simply, but she never interrogated you. Not once.

You’ve admired her since forever, and every single fighting stance that you’ve mastered, you’ve done it because you spent the majority of your free time studying footage of her fights caught on camera.

“She’s impressed,” Wanda tells you. “She believes that you have potential, and so do I.”

Sometimes trouble follows you and the packages, that’s why you’re always prepared, that’s why you know how to stand you own in a fight.

“Are you offering me a job?” You ask her jokingly but she doesn’t laugh, instead she gives you a look that leaves you breathless. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“I was a prisoner yesterday.” You remind her and she nods, an open and stupidly alluring grin tugging at her lips.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I’ve been in your head, remember?” She tells you, and you feel your cheeks heating up with a blush.

“That’s a total violation, y’know?”

“It is and I’m sorry for doing it.” She apologizes, and you frown.

She’s good. Too good.

“So you know about my deep desire to quit the delivering world, and join the side of good?”

“I do.” She nods, perhaps amused.

“And you also know that I’ve been crushing on you since the day we met?”

“About that,” she apologetically starts and you panic.

“What?”

“You were really high on painkillers, and you might have exposed yourself about that in front of the Captains.”

“What?” You panic and when you rush to move, the pain shooting through you forces you to lay down again.

“Easy,” she tells you kindly. “For now you just have to focus on getting better. Carol will drop by to apologize. For the record, she was not having a good day that day.”

“Neither were my ribs,” you tell her and she laughs.

“There will be a meeting when you can leave this bed. A new life awaits you.”

“About the crushing thing?” You ask when she stands up to leave, and the smile she sends your way makes you smile in a daze, because she’s just so beautiful.

“We can talk about that too when you’re feeling better.”

You’re still smiling after she’s gone. You only had two rules to do your job, and the first one might have ended up saving you from a lifetime in prison, but the second one? You never stood a chance against the second one.

…

Feedback is much appreciated.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff

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saphronethaleph · 3 months ago

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Palpy Had A Bad Day Some Time Ago

“...I see,” the Chancellor said, with a nod. “You’re certain?”

“Fairly sure,” Mara Skywalker replied. “They declared that… there would be no peace with us while we continued to make use of our foul technology, and that we were all infidels as we did not believe in their gods.”

She rolled her arm, wincing. “I lost a few of my men and women getting out of that.”

The Chancellor frowned.

“I understand your loss, Mara,” she said. “Are you injured?”

“Not seriously,” Mara replied. “Do you have further need of me? I haven’t seen my husband or our son in weeks.”

“I’m… afraid we’ll need you for a bit longer, Mara,” Grand Master Windu said. “You’re the one with the most experience with these aliens. The future has been clouded recently… any insight you can give is valuable, even if they are strangely invisible to the Force.”

“All right,” Mara conceded, leaning back, and frowned.

While Mara thought, Chancellor Mothma turned her attention to the others present in the meeting.

“Admiral Pellaeon?” she said. “The status of the Fleet?”

“Could be better,” Pellaeon said, unflinchingly. “The active squadrons are ready, but it’s going to take a few months to activate the Reserve. That’s partly training time for the new recruits we’d need. It would go faster if we called up all the Clone pensioners, though.”

“We are certainly going to call up the pensioners,” Mothma answered. “Unless, that is, the Senate is entirely worse than it has been throughout my entire tenure… the Hutt Wars were less clear-cut than this, by far.”

She glanced up at Mara. “Speaking of which, Mara – do you have any information about their ships?”

“Their ships…” Mara repeated, closing her eyes and focusing.

Everyone present knew what she was doing. It was an old Jedi trick, paying more attention to her own memory, focusing on it as precisely as she could and allowing her to gain information she hadn’t noticed at the time.

“Their fighters are odd,” she said. “No shields, but our shots didn’t connect when they should have done – the laser blasts arced.”

“You were firing?” Fey’lya asked.

“They shot first, if you’re wondering,” Mara replied, dryly. “Firing high temperature objects, stronger than our own fighter guns, and the shields had trouble with the projectiles but I was able to shoot them down as they came in. There was… I think there’s some kind of gravity effect involved, but I don’t have enough information to be sure. But the reports are true – all their technology that we saw is organic.”

“Organic spacecraft?” Pellaeon said.

“Coral, I think,” Mara replied. “Thinking about it now, it looks right, and there was far too much variance within the same squadron for it to be a ship class manufactured in ways we’re used to. As for their larger vessels…”

She went silent again, thinking. “They had several different sizes of ships, and some of them were as much as ten kilometres in diameter – roughly disc shaped. I didn’t get more information than that.”

“Then we’re dealing with a sizeable fleet threat,” Pellaeon said. “Chancellor, this is going to mean more than just a mobilization of the Reserve.”

“I understand,” Mothma agreed, heavily. “And if they have come to invade, they are going to be trying to invade our worlds as well.”

She looked up at the final member of the cabinet. “Marshal?”

Marshal Harek – CC-11380 – nodded to her in reply.

“You’re asking about mobilization, I take it?” he asked, continuing as soon as Mothma had confirmed it. “The recall of pensioned clones is technically a volunteer matter, but all indications I’ve ever seen are that we’ll get back functionally all of them. With ten years of reserve status after a five year career, that means we’re looking at… call it seventeen million, after allowing for losses during service over the last fifteen years.

“Not exactly enough to fight an intergalactic war,” Pellaeon said. “If that is what’s going on.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Harek replied. “It’s what we’ve got among the regular army, though. Chancellor, it is my professional opinion that some kind of nat-born mobilization is needed… if these aliens are targeting the Jedi, then a lot of our manpower is going to be needed keeping them safe.”

“I agree with you,” Mothma agreed. “I do not want to enact conscription. Indeed, I would like to be able to offer all currently serving clones the option of terminating their contracts early. The system is set up with the understanding that clones serve five years in something close to peace.”

“Chancellor… my brothers would see it as an insult,” Harek replied, quietly. “As a formal announcement, anyway. I’ll see about making it quietly known, and there might be a few hundred who take it up, but I wouldn’t expect more than that.”

Mothma nodded, and was silent for a long moment.

“Master Windu?” she asked.

“The Jedi will protect the Republic,” the old Jedi replied. “That has always been the deal.”

“I know,” Mothma said, quietly. “But I remember a time you were nearly destroyed by it.”

“If the loss of the Jedi leads to the survival of the Republic, it’s worth it,” Mara declared. “I certainly hope it wouldn’t, but… how could we place so few sapients over so many worlds?”

Mothma met Mara’s gaze, then closed her eyes in understanding.

“Very well, then,” she said. “Minister Fey’lya? Do you see any issues that would result with a prompt shift to a war footing?”

The bothan frowned, ears twitching as he thought.

“Have we considered the old droid armies?” he asked.

“You’re not suggesting we fight alongside a droid army, are you?” Harek said.

“He has a point,” Mara volunteered. “If you didn’t see it… you don’t realize how much these aliens hate droids.”

Harek made to reply, then stopped himself.

“...I guess,” he conceded, reluctantly. “It just doesn’t feel right, clones fighting alongside droids.”

He glanced at Fey’lya. “And I know you’re planning on using this to get gratitude from the great merchant houses.”

“We need as many troops as possible, as quickly as possible,” Fey’lya said. “We are all part of the Republic… it has been long enough that the high leadership of the great merchant houses was not even born during the Separatist Crisis.”

“And you didn’t deny it,” Harek said, then sighed. “Well, Master Windu – Chancellor – it’s up to you. I’m just a simple soldier.”

“Hardly that, Marshal,” Windu replied, quietly. “I understand your reluctance. In truth, I feel it myself… but this is a war to defend the Republic. If there are measures we will be forced into by war, then if a droid army is the worst I will count myself a happy man.”

“All right,” Mothma decided. “I believe I have a sense of what we will be doing… Borsk, if you could draft a declaration of war and the mobilization acts? Gilad, Marshal, any groundwork you need before the official mobilization – please, begin as soon as possible.”

She sighed. “Master Jedi…”

“I’ll have members of the Jedi Council discuss things with the shipbuilding houses,” Windu said. “While there are limits, Chancellor… we are at your service.”

“Thank you,” Mon Mothma nodded. “And Mara… you should go and see your husband and son. It’s the least I can offer you.”

#mon mothma #star wars #mace windu #clones #borsk fey'lya #gilad pellaeon #mara jade skywalker #yuuzhan vong #Arsenal Of Democracy

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technicontrastron · 2 years ago

Note

This may sound stupid but how do I turn off blazeable on my blogs?

And how is this bad? Again, I don't wanna sound stupid or rude. Thank you for the heads up :]

Hi! No worries, you're not the only one with these questions.

On how to turn off the option to get blazed:

On desktop you can turn it off at this link: https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/#blaze It looks something like this

On mobile it's in the account settings menu, there's a lof of screenshots in the additions to my other post like here (i haven't updated since i got a funny little bug that lets me add polls in reblogs of other people's posts so i can't screenshot anything).

Alternatively you can also log into Tumblr in your phone's browser and use the link above there. Don't forget to do it on sideblogs that you don't want to get blazed as well! You can also change the settings per-post in the post menu. I've actually enabled it for my complaint post that's circulating because it would be really funny :D

On how it is bad:

With the way it is set up, people can blaze your posts without active consent. This can be used to bully people, by digging out old or not-adapted posts that were not meant for a wider audience and putting them on blast. This can include vent posts, opinions you might have changed since then, selfies, niche things many people might think are cringe (like 2014 self-insert omegaverse fanfics and the likes ... idk if you've seen the drama that resulted from someone blazing their fic, it wasn't pretty), posts that were only meant to circulate in your carefully curated audience, and more.

Since Blaze's are registered in many minds as advertisement many people will react negatively to them so this opens up a way to bully a lot of people. As usual, people of colour, trans people, and other vulnerable groups will get the worst of it, many are already getting deactivated regularly because of coordinated reporting harassment and since people donate hate organizations all the time they will definitely use the option to make the life of a person they're targeting living hell for 10$.

Staff thought of some safeguards but there are several fallacies:

The option to cancel a blaze before it goes live: Not everyone has access to the internet every day, and staff might accept the blaze while you're asleep / at work / on a trip / in the hospital / on hiatus. Then when you're coming back to tumblr your notes will have turned into a nightmare.

The guarantee that staff will check every Blaze manually to prevent harassment: Let's take the case in which someone's old fic get blazed against their will. How can staff know whether it was blazed with friendly intent (to promote a friend's work) or ill intent (to get people to point and laugh)? They can't as long as it's not against the Terms of Service. In general there will be many false positives (Blazes that get rejected by staff despite being innocent) and false negatives (Blazes that get accepted by staff despite being malicious). After all, the people working at tumblr are only human too. But in this case, false negatives will have devastating consequences - and extinguishing a blaze after it's live will be too late.

Many people don't follow @staff, so many people don't know about this change. In fact many people on that other post commented that they didn't know what Blazes are at all! I think i've read that they will add a login banner to tell you and check your settings, but iirc they had banners like that for the original Blaze function announcement so i don't have faith this will prevent anything.

I should clarify that i don't think the feature itself is bad at all, but it should be opt-in so only people who want to participate get blazed (e.g. art blogs). Or add an active mandatory confirmation by OP instead of a veto option, this would prevent the issues above as well, i think that would be the best option - that way people could leave the option on. I know staff are currently getting bombarded with support requests / flames (please be civil to them guys!) (also sorry. but not sorry. i didn't expect my post to blow up but also i think these are legitimately troubling concerns and i won't make the other post unrebloggable). They're aware of these issues so i hope they will change to one of these options - if they add active mandatory confirmation by OP i would enable to option globally as well (Hint hint this means more money for you, @tumblr, because otherwise many people have and will turn this feature off completely) A bit more time between announcement and go-live (4/20 iirc) would have been helpful as well.

Here's the original announcement by the way:

And since i'm gonna pin the post as long as the other post is circulating: Listen to goatbed guys!

#long post #tumblr #ok to rb

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cerastes · 2 years ago

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Brothels should advertise like garbage mobile games do.

If I’m walking out on the street and passing by a brothel and a scantily clad bodacious dame of the night blasted out of the wall while blocking the fist of a massive adversary, locked eyes with me, reached out invitingly with her hand, conveniently posing in a way that reveals her boobs and ass at the same time at the cost of her spine, and yelled “we are under FUCKING attack”, yeah, I would defeat mighty foes alongside her and then peruse the brothel’s services as manner of celebration. It’s money they are just leaving on the table.

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wolveria · 2 years ago

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The Raven’s Hymn - Ch 33

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Are you here to do what they cannot?”

AO3

The elevator came to a rolling stop, and the door parted to reveal a large tunnel ahead, chiseled out of the surrounding bedrock. Hanging fluorescents lit the way, bracketed by pipes and wires that must lead to a separate power generator and cooling systems. You were so far beneath the facility that it had to be isolated from the site’s power and water grid.

A squad of five soldiers waited once the doors parted, and they weren’t any standard security you’d ever seen. In fact, upon looking closer, you saw the Mobile Task Force logo etched into the arm bands of their uniforms.

What was the MTF doing here? Their whole purpose, their advantage, was mobilization to where they were needed, but you’d never heard of them being kept on-site before.

The Site Director offered no commentary or explanation, simply gave a nod, and the Site-20 guards handed you off to the MTFs. They were ridiculously overpowered in their tactical suits compared to your knee-length nightgown, of which did you no service in keeping you warm so deep underground.

Walking no more than five minutes, your group arrived at a massive door at least 10 meters tall, thick enough to sustain a bomb blast by the looks of it. But what drew your eye was a familiar face, already there to greet you.

“I don’t recall inviting you, Amin,” Leahy drawled. Dr. Puli stood straighter, his frown the most severe you’ve seen it yet.

“This isn’t right, Geoff. I must protest.”

“Noted.”

“When the O5 Council learns what you’re doing—”

“Who do you think authorized this project?”

Dr. Puli’s eyes widened, glancing between you and the Site Director, but his jaw clenched into a stubborn hold.

“They would never allow this.”

“It’s a shame you don’t have the clearance level to know for certain.” Leahy motioned his head down the tunnel, back the way you’d came. “Now, are you going to retreat with your tail between your legs? Or are you going to stay, because despite your weak objections, you wish to know what will happen just as much as I do.”

Dr. Puli met Leahy’s stare, the Site Director’s without any warmth behind his rimmed glasses. Your former boss lost the test of wills, stepping aside and sending you a quick glance before looking away.

Leahy scoffed, taking your arm as he pulled you forward.

“Despite being a psychologist, you’re as predictable as anyone else.”

Leahy walked to a panel and retrieved something from his pocket: a flat, rectangular object, its surface solid black but thicker than a typical keycard, and inserted in into a card reader.

“Open it.” The Site Director gave the order to a technical engineer at a console, and he worked the controls, the massive door sliding upwards at his command. Beyond was a catwalk, leading into darkness so black it seemed to be the end of the known universe.

Leahy wasted no time, pushing you forward before letting go.

“Walk.”

Your feet remained glued to the ground, your legs trembling and refusing to budge.

Leahy went to the console and pulled out what looked like a handheld microphone, the kind that belonged to CB radios. He instructed the engineer which channel to dial before he clicked the microphone on.

“049 containment team? Over.”

A small, tinny voice replied, but it was loud enough for all to hear.

“Standing by. Over.”

“Are you prepared to move the SCP into permanent containment? Over.”

“Affirmative, over.”

Leahy stared at you, not needing to say anything more than that. He had you trapped, and it disgusted you that he knew you well enough to know it would work. You wouldn’t let 049 be punished because the Site Director was a sadist, and you could only hope that if this last test killed you, Leahy would lose interest in 049. Maybe, he would move on when his shiny toy was broken, leaving 049 in peace while he found some new victim to torment.

You turned back to the black void and walked forward. Moving past the door, you stopped and half-turned when it began to slide shut behind you.

“What am I supposed to do!” you yelled to be heard over the humming gears.

“Make physical contact with the anomaly!”

“What else!”

Leahy said nothing, even though he had time before the bottom of the door touch the ground, sealing you inside with a final loud series of locks sliding into place.

Your breathing was too loud in the open space, straining to see in the pitch dark, searching so hard that you flinched when the catwalk lit beneath your feet. Walking lights lined the suspended pathway, revealing you weren’t suspended over nothingness. The bottom curve of the tunnel was roughly ten feet below you, but the ceiling was still high overhead. It didn’t bode well why the Foundation needed such a large tunnel for whatever they were keeping here.

With nothing else to do, you moved forward, guessing that Leahy had some method of monitoring your progress. The tunnel was too large to spot any cameras or other equipment, so you kept going, illuminated by the lights stretching out ahead of you, like a runway guiding your path to take flight.

If only you could.

The rock walls had vanished, though you couldn’t pinpoint when, replaced by rectangular, metallic panels curving around the tunnel, leaving you with the impression you were walking inside a giant conductor of some kind. A low humming noise came from ahead of you, and the hairs on your body stood upright.

The catwalk ended in darkness, and as you approached the last few remaining steps, lights flashed on overhead, forcing you to shield your eyes. When you lowered your hand and opened your eyes, you couldn’t understand what you were seeing. The rectangular panels of the round room were raised and aimed at the center, like an array of solar panels, but they were aimed at no sun. Lit in the middle of the room, illuminated by focused spotlights and hovering in the air, was what had to be the anomaly.

It was a writhing, shifting mass of flesh with a spherical shape, constantly moving and turning. At first, it would coalesce into something that resembled a face, though the muzzle was long and filled with teeth, and then it would disappear again into a twisting mess that hurt the mind to comprehend.

And then you realized it wasn’t shifting; the mass was turning itself inside out, over and over. The muzzle appeared again, and this time, it spoke.

“Have the apes finally found a way to end me?”

You went back a step, halfway raising your hands as if to block out the bone-jarring voice.

“Are you here to do what they cannot?”

Fighting down the bile that threatened to rise in your throat, you stared at the mass and concentrated on the features before they could disappear. A long snout, a greenish mane, and grey scales.

“682?”

The SCP rumbled an affirmation that rattled the panels on the wall.

“But… that’s not possible,” you choked. “You were labeled as neutralized after the Site-19 breach.”

682 rumbled again, this time it was closer to a threatening growl. You took another step backwards.

“I am trapped here… in a constant state of eternal agony, unable to prevent my bones from twisting and my flesh from boiling. This… is as close to neutralized as humanity can achieve.”

Even without any eyes at any given moment, the accusation of his gaze was hot on your skin.

“Though, perhaps that has changed, and my torment will be finished. Come. End it.”

You could only stare at the horrific thing that used to be 682.

“I don’t… understand.”

“What is there to not understand?”

“What did they do to you?”

Though you’d never seen 682 in person, you’d seen photos and video footage. The reptilian anomaly could change his size and composition to fit his environment, but this was something else.

682 was silent, though you could swear you heard… or felt echoes of its screams of agony, especially the longer you were in his presence.

“The humans managed to trap me within another entity,” 682 said, his words dragging out as if with reluctance. “A singularity the size of a speck, but capable of consuming my body just as quickly as I can regenerate. I do not think they meant this room to be my new cell, but per their fashion, the apes can do nothing right. I cannot die, but perhaps for the first time, I wish I could.”

The Hard-to-Destroy Reptile was no longer the menacing, humanity-hating entity he had once been, and you actually felt sorry for him. With how many times he had tried to escape, and how many lives he’d taken, it wasn’t a mystery why Leahy wanted you here, to touch the SCP and stop his healing regeneration and adaptive capabilities.

He wanted you to kill 682 permanently.

“What are you waiting for?” the reptile snarled, his teeth bared for the brief moment his muzzle appeared. “Get on with it.”

You shook your head, needing to stall for time, time to think.

“How do you know what I can do to SCPs?”

The monstrous reptile gave an offended snort.

“Even without your Site Director trotting you out like a prized hound, I know you. I would know you anywhere.”

Coincidentally, or to prove his point, one large, slitted eye gazed down on you, malice held in those yellow depths.

“You were sent to do their bidding. I make no illusions, and neither should you. Now, do it. Destroy me.”

“I…” Your mouth was dry. “…I can’t. I can’t kill you.”

682’s roar sent you scrambling backwards, the panels trembling in their positions as bits of dust drifted down from the rounded ceiling.

“Foolish, naïve child! Believing you still make your own choices because you are blind to the leash around your neck! You do not understand your own nature, your ignorance will be an instrument used at their whim. A beast set upon your masters’ enemies!”

682 writhed faster, snarling and biting at the air, his claws lashing at nothing only to disappear inside his twisted body.

“And you dare tote yourself as something better than us, absolving yourself of death even as blood stains your hands. And there will be blood, so much of it. When the leash tightens into a noose, that is when you will be the most dangerous. Your masters are not as foolish as you are. Perhaps, even now, they are building the walls of your containment.”

Your limbs wouldn’t stop shaking; you wanted to run from this horrible place, from the impossible nightmare scene in front of you, but you didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“I don’t… don’t understand. What I am, what you th-think I am. But this is… this is wrong. Cruel.”

“You cannot be cruel to a thing.”

The words were so similar to Leahy’s opinion about 049 that you didn’t doubt he’d said them to 682. You would never understand how a man who despised SCPs had risen to the rank of Site Director.

Another rumble echoed from the twisting mass, this one laden with heaviness.

“If you will not end my suffering, then get out of my sight. I have little use for something like you, clearly in the early stages of infancy. Perhaps with time you would grow to what is needed, but time… is what we both lack.”

You began to back away, your hands no longer curled next to your head but now pressed against your chest.

“I… I don’t know what to do for you,” you whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re… sorry?”

The writhing mass twirling and focused on you, pulsing faster.

“I experience a lifetime of suffering within the span of a single moment, and you’re sorry?”

682 roared, and for a moment, his head formed out of the grotesque sphere, cohesive and baring his ancient teeth.

“Your apologies are poison! More insidious than their lies! Make your apologies to 079, and then perhaps your words will amount to more than useless noise!”

The face disappeared back into the mass, giving one last agonizing scream that followed close at your heels as you sprinted back down the catwalk. You slipped and stumbled, your hospital shoes not affording much traction against the surface, but you didn’t stop running until you reached the vaulted door. Trying to catch your breath, you hunched over and braced against your knees, your eyes burning as you alternated between gasping and retching.

They must have known you were there; the door began its arduous slide upwards, guards spilling through the open walkway, half of them aiming their guns at you, the other half moving past you to set their sights down the catwalk. Nothing had followed you, but they clearly weren’t taking any chances.

“Well?”

You raised your head, neck craning as your palms remained on your knees.

“Status report?” Leahy prompted when you didn’t answer.

You wanted to tell him where to show his status report, but instead you said, “It didn’t work.”

Leahy frowned, glancing over you back down the catwalk where you’d come. The MTF no longer had their guns raised, but they weren’t at ease by any means.

“Explain.”

You slowly straightened your spine and stared at him. Your usual mixture of hate and disgust was there, but fear swam under the surface. You wanted to believe that Leahy hadn’t meant to trap 682 in an eternal cycle of suffering, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it either. You were beginning to realize you’d underestimated his capacity for cruel violence.

“I touched him, and nothing happened.”

“The lizard still lives?”

You didn’t bother to correct him that lizards and reptiles weren’t interchangeable terms. All you said was, “Yes.”

Leahy brought up his tablet, swiping over its surface with a frown.

“Disappointing.”

Pressing your lips together, you kept at bay the pleas you wanted to make on behalf of 049, for Leahy not to punish him for your failure. But he didn’t call on 049’s containment team, nor did he make any threats. He merely nodded at the MTF soldiers, and they grabbed you by the arms and led you back down the tunnel.

You looked over your shoulder and watched as the massive door slid into place.

Next Chapter

#the raven's hymn #scp 049 #scp 682 #scp 049 x reader #scp fanfiction #scp 049 fanfiction #wolveria writes

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pjisskullourful · 1 year ago

Text

🆄🆂🅴 🅼🅴

🚬Ethan × reader

part 6/??? [parts1-5]

NSFW🚨 literally unsafe nastiness ° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert ✨ cameo by: Damiano David ° a vacation brings out a very different side of your boyfriend [based july 2023] wordcount::: 9,318 ° 🎧USE ME playlist to add to your reading experience ° as superbly prompted by @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic: a little scene where ethan and reader are hanging out [...] it's warm out and ethan isn't wearing a shirt. and the reader is just. is absolutely [...] thirsting over ethan's arms and chest (ethan is well aware of this, because he's purposefully making her hot and bothered all day) 💋 & commissioned by the legit badass that is my girl kat (@mistressofthecats-blog) 💋 [commissions are back! secure the 7th spot in my cue here!!]

° [ITA:] facile: simple - cazzo: fuck

You had no idea what time it was when you rolled over in the hotel bed, hesitantly cracking your eyes open. Your boyfriend was gone from the bed and the world of Ibiza was drenched in sunshine.

You were surprised that you didn’t feel worse - you had been expecting the wrath of all of those martinis and cocktails you’d consumed at the nightclub. But you were pleased to find yourself nausea-free. You were feeling fatigued and a little fuzzy in your head, but with enough coffee you would be able to make something of this day, the first day of your vacation.

You eased yourself out of the bed and started to look for Ethan. It didn’t take long for you to locate him, he hadn’t left the suite, taking up a seat on the attached balcony. Wrapped in a white bathrobe, he was taking his time to smoke a cigarette. You collected a pair of sunglasses from your handbag before even considering joining him.

He turned his head at the sound of the door sliding open and acknowledged you with a smile. “Hey, party girl.” You approached where he was seated. “I thought I would have to inject the espresso directly into your veins to get you out of bed.”

“What can I say? I like to be unpredictable.” You said as you draped your arms around him from where you stood beside his chair. You slipped your hands over the soft material covering his chest as you leaned down. You kissed him on top of the head and made to take the cigarette from between his fingers. He took evasive movements, preventing your theft. “How long have you been awake?”

“A bit under an hour.” He said after a quick look at the screen of his mobile phone.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, should I get the room service menu?”

“Please.” You responded, prompting him to get up.

While he was inside, you took up the seat on the opposite side of the table. You plucked a cigarette out of the open packet and lit up. Then you tried to restore some order to your hair, using your fingers to comb through the strands that had been left loose all night. You were well on your way to feeling like a human again, dodging that zombie-state a hangover could bring out.

Picking from the menu, you each ordered breakfast. There was something in the way that he was looking at you that gave you pause. It was making you feel like you were being assessed, with him looking at you more seriously than the situation called for.

“You’re in a better mood this morning, hm?” He said, giving you a small insight into what he was thinking.

But it only served to confuse you. You cocked your head to one side as you had a drag of your cigarette. What was he comparing this mood to?

Because you had only been having fun on this trip so far. Last night had been an absolute blast, it had felt like the perfect way to kick off this vacation - to you, at least. Everyone had been all smiles as you toasted in the craziness of the active club.

Not all of your memories were crystal clear, but everything that you could recall was positive. You remembered Thomas’ dance moves dominating the dancefloor. You could remember Victoria invading the DJ booth, energetically bouncing as she played as many Lady Gaga tracks as you asked for.

You had been feeling victorious over how things were blooming between her and Tatianna. You and Ethan had included your friend on the group trip to fix her up with Victoria. And you had been thrilled to see sparks flying between the two women at the airport. Things had progressed and you had seen them sharing more than one kiss before the end of the night at the club. You had been immediately happy for them, and proud of your matchmaking skills, so that couldn’t be the source of the bad mood he was alluding to.

You had video evidence of him enjoying himself, without a single thing to worry him. At one point, you had spotted him and Damiano showing off some Vogue-style hand and arm choreography for one another. This unserious dance-off had been too cute for you to resist capturing it with your phone’s camera. The old friends had reminded you of two kids on the playground, laughing and play-swatting at each other.

Your picture of the night was one of no issues for either of you. You couldn’t understand where his perspective had come from at all.

“It’s good, I’m glad you’re leaving the brat in last night.” He said.

You leaned forward. “Brat?”

“Oh, come on, you remember. You weren’t that drunk when we got back here.” He said.

Before he could add any more details to this surprising account, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He left his cigarette burning in the ashtray as he got up to answer it.

He had succeeded in shocking you. The end of the night had been so insignificant to you that you were genuinely stunned over him remembering it at all. There had been making out in the taxi and you had been feeling that it would lead to more when you got to the privacy of your room.

But that had gotten derailed once you were settling into your room. You had realised just how tired you were, how much the travel and clubbing had drained you. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to give him your best and you had told him as much, with more than a few sassy comments colouring your delivery. He hadn’t helped you out of your dress and when you had fallen asleep, it had been on your own side of the bed.

You were staring at him, slack-jawed as he wheeled the food cart out to the balcony. You didn’t pay any attention to the dishes and drinks.

“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.” You said.

He shrugged as he set your waffles down in front of you. “Well, don’t act like one and I won’t call you one. Facile.”

He returned to his seat, his bowl of yogurt and cup of coffee set up before him. He appeared entirely unbothered by the conversation. You could tell that he thought he had made a winning argument and this incensed you. You picked up a piece of strawberry from your plate and tossed it across the table, aiming for his face.

Instead it bounced off of his shoulder and he looked at you, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t want that one?”

“I am not a brat.” You said, determined to defend yourself.

“I don’t know how you think I should be reacting here, baby.” He said, folding his arms on the table instead of picking up the spoon. He was staring you down, potentially just as determined as you. “We got back to the room, I told you how ready I was to fool around, you turned around to get the lube, then all of a sudden you were having a hissy fit.

“You threw things- they’re still on the ground, by the way. You swore at everything.” He said and you clenched your jaw as you listened to his vivid recollection of what had been a non-event to you. “And what was it about? Face cream, fucking face cream. ‘Cause you forgot to pack the whole set, so you only have nine, instead of ten.

“And when I offered to help you look, you told me to go and fuck myself with something hard and sandpaper-y.” He said.

You had to bow your head in an effort to conceal the chuckles you felt rising up. You were a drama queen when drunk, but you were also really funny. You had a way with words, clearly having enough impact to stick in his mind.

“‘Cause that was the only way I was gonna get a fuck ‘cause you didn’t feel like it anymore, and-... are you- are you literally laughing right now?”

You raised your head, no longer trying to hide it. “It’s funny. It’s a funny thing to say, it’s poetic in its way. Obviously I wasn’t being serious. Aren’t you used to my bullshit by now? I blow off steam and I blow it off in a big, crazy, loud, swearing, stupid way. But then once it’s out of my system, it’s all over, all gone, the demon is exorcised and I move on. In the case of last night, I moved straight into sleep.”

“Yeah, without even cuddling me.” He pointed out.

“You could have spooned me if you were so desperate for cuddles.”

He picked up his coffee, but held off from having a sip. “Did you even put the fucking cream on your face before you went to sleep?”

This set you off laughing again, louder than before as you slumped back in your chair. “No. I was too out of it. I didn’t even take my makeup off, I just passed out.”

He shook his head, but you could see the beginnings of a smile on his face. “You’re hopeless. You know that, right? Absolutely hopeless.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.”

Now he was smirking. “And a brat.”

You picked up more pieces of strawberry to throw at him. “Stop calling me that. I had one bad moment. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry that it ruined your night, or whatever. But I’m only human, Ethan. I was fucking exhausted, drunk as Hell and frustrated, so I snapped.” You found a blueberry amongst the fruit that had come with your breakfast and you chucked this at him, managing to hit his forehead. “Are you gonna punish me all day over this?”

“Not at all. If you’re happy today, then so am I.” He said, the picture of serenity.

“Great. ‘Cause I wanna get back to enjoying my vacation.” You said. You picked up your fork and stabbed into some of the berries that remained on your plate. “I’ll clean up the mess that I made on my own and then we can just move on.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He said. “I’m amazed that you’ve gone this long without checking your phone.” You looked up from your waffles, wondering what he was trying to start now. “I was thinking that you would be dying for updates from Tati.”

You shrugged as you chewed your food. “I’ll check it later.”

“Really? Wow. Last night all that you cared about was playing Cupid.” He said.

You showed him a wide smile. “‘Cause I’m so good at it.”

You were ready to get back to focusing on the positives. And it seemed that he was, too. Because there was no more name-calling and the two of you started to discuss how you would fit in with the group’s plan for the day. The rest of the fruit went into your mouth, instead of going hurtling through the air.

*** *** ***

You were by the side of the pool, set up on one of the lounge chairs. You had just finished up your conversation with Tatianna, getting all of the details (and then some) of how things had progressed with Victoria.

You had barely had enough time to take a sip of your iced coffee before you were being approached again. This time it was your boyfriend. Ethan had ditched his bathrobe, walking around in just his speedo. This was enough to get your eyes off of your friend and her new fling.

He came over to stand at your side. “You’re not busy, are you baby?”

A sarcastic quip popped into your head immediately, you didn’t even have to go looking for it. But you thought better of it before opening your mouth. Judging by everything he had said this morning, he’d had more than his fair share of your sarcasm and sassy comments.

So you pushed the thought away, showing him a smile instead. “I’ve got an abundance of time for you.”

“Cool. Can you help me apply this?” He asked, holding up a bottle of sunblock for you to see. “I know you hate the greasy feeling on your hands, but…”

“You need my help?” You asked as you registered this unexpected request.

“Please.” He said. “I did my face, but- it’s such a sunny day and there aren’t as many shade cloths around the pool as I thought there would be. I really don’t wanna get a burn.”

“Of course, sit down then.”

He handed the product over and sat down towards the end of the lounge, his back to you. You brushed the few strands of hair that had escaped his bun off the back of his neck and got to work applying the sunscreen.

You worked it across his muscular shoulders, then moved down his back. Concentrating on the task at hand, your eyes looked over the area your fingers were exploring, leading you to notice the complete lack of scratches on his back. It was a shame, like you were looking at an unfinished painting. Maybe if you’d had the stamina for sex last night, there could be fresh claw marks all over him.

You cleared your throat and tried to give yourself a distraction before your thoughts could go too far down the wrong paths. “Do you want the tea?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “I thought you got a coffee.”

“No, the tea on Tati.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“They did.” You said of your friends’ sexual rendezvous.

“Nice. Good for them.” He said, making you laugh.

“Turn around.” You instructed.

He readjusted, now facing you for further application. “But seriously, good for Vic, I think they’re gonna be good for each other. Obviously Tati is great, a million times better than the last chick Vic was with.” He rolled his eyes just at the thought. “The definition of stuck up.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you were trying to behave - but rubbing the sunscreen into his pectorals presented too many temptations. You didn’t even check to see if anyone was looking, you just grabbed his nipples. Between each thumb and forefinger, you pinched them, a smile forming on your lips.

He gave a full-body flinch, leaning back and pushing you away at the same time. He furrowed his brow as you started to giggle. “What was that for?”

You pulled your sunglasses down a little, meeting his eye. “You don’t have to go in the pool if you wanna get wet.”

“Baby…” He said quietly. “If you’re feeling that way- you should have said something before we left the room.”

“I didn’t want to be antisocial. It’s a group trip, after all.”

“So, what’s different now?” He asked, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was about to catch you in this conversation.

“How about we get social with just each other?”

He got to his feet, putting some distance between you. “I should have known this would happen when I asked you for help.”

“Oh, are you disappointed in me now? Was this not your intention all along?” You asked. You were surprised when he didn’t immediately deny it, even more surprised when you saw the hints of a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Ethan?”

“No.” He said, but there was something off about his tone of voice. “As if.” You narrowed your eyes as you watched him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. “Don’t worry about the rest, really. I’ll do the rest of my tummy and my legs, since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

You watched his progress, all the while attempting to determine what he was up to. You were certain that something was afoot, but you were on the outside. What was he trying to accomplish, was there a point to getting you worked up over his body?

He finished applying the sunscreen to his exposed skin. “I would ask you to check if I missed any spots, but you would probably enjoy that an inappropriate amount.” He discarded the bottle onto the lounge next to yours, where his robe was already lying.

“You’ve sure got me all figured out, babe.” You said, unable to keep yourself from getting a little sarcastic with your delivery.

He blew you a kiss before turning away. Seconds later he was slipping into the crystal clear water. You pushed your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose and had a sip of your iced coffee, biting down on the straw a little.

You reclined back in the chair, but you weren’t feeling very relaxed. You rubbed your hands on your legs, trying to get rid of the unpleasant residue left by the sunscreen.

All the while, you were watching Ethan. Thanks to the side of the pool, you couldn’t see much of him, just his head that bobbed with the flow of the water. He appeared innocent enough as he chatted with Thomas and his girlfriend.

Sooner or later, you would get to the bottom of whatever your boyfriend was plotting.

You moved your attention to your phone, replying to a message from Nico. You looked through the group chat that was made up of your co-workers, but you didn’t find anything worth responding to. Then you started scrolling through social media.

When that got old, you pulled a magazine out of your handbag. You flicked it open, but you felt no motivation to start reading. Nothing in Kerrang could drag your attention away from Ethan.

For whatever reason, your boyfriend wanted you to take notice of him and you couldn’t help doing just that.

One thing that you took notice of was that he seemed to be spending only a small amount of time actually in the pool. While still talking to Thomas and his girlfriend, Ethan had boosted himself out, sitting on the lip of the pool. He had looked back, checking up on you.

When the couple split off, he had seemed like he was going to swim properly, pushing off from the wall, but only after glancing at you again. But he only swam to the other side of the pool, using his arms to lift himself out. He seemed to move in slow-motion. This action wasn’t complete without another glance in your direction.

Then he was just wandering around the area that surrounded the pool, stopping to talk to so many of the friends that had come to Ibiza - never leaving your line of sight. He was doing a lot of unnecessary stretching. You would read one sentence of your article, then look up to spot him flexing one muscle or another.

Was he on the verge of running a marathon, what was the point of him getting so limber? And why couldn’t you stop watching?

He was clearly teasing you. Was he getting you wound up simply because he could? Was it all just for his amusement? You hadn’t planned on spending the day getting hot and bothered over him, but he knew that it didn’t take much to get you into such a headspace. You only hoped that his plan included some kind of pay-off for you.

Or else you would have to come up with a plan of your own.

Also in your line of sight were Thomas and his girlfriend, treading water very close together. They were sharing a lot of kisses and even when you weren’t watching, you could hear her flirtatious laughter as they got lost in their own world.

Elsewhere, Tatianna and Victoria were looking very cosy together. In the shade, they were sharing a love seat. Tatianna had her head rested in Victoria’s lap as Victoria slowly ran her fingers through her new companion’s hair. They were doing a lot of laughing as well.

At present, you weren’t feeling much happiness towards your friend and the connection she was exploring. Instead you were hung up on your own jealousy. You were bitter over not having your person to be similarly horny with - Hell, you would have settled for just being cute with Ethan at this point.

You were glad for the distraction of Damiano headed your way. He was very late in joining the group and he didn’t instantly strive to be the centre of attention, just quietly taking up the seat beside yours.

“How are you the last one to arrive when you literally had no booze last night?” You asked teasingly.

He smiled sheepishly. “I got lost in the gift shop.”

“Oh, cazzo…”

“No, no, it’s totally not that bad. There’s still gifts left in that shop, on God.” He said. “I had to go in to get my grandma a souvenir magnet.”

“Okay, that’s adorable.”

As you were trying to give him all of your attention, Ethan wandered back into your field of vision. You didn’t even have to turn your head, still facing Damiano even though you couldn’t help watching Ethan. He seemed to have found the perfect spot and he sat down, ass on the tiles as he dangled his legs into the water. He leaned back, bracing himself with his hands on the ground behind him as the sun’s rays beat down on his bare chest.

“Yeah, it’s like a little family tradition. If you go somewhere new, you’ve gotta buy a magnet with the name of the place on it for grandma.” Damiano was saying and you dragged your eyes back over to him. “Because she had this huge collection from all the places she’s been, back when she was travelling all the time, before grandpa got sick.”

“You are so damn wholesome.” You said.

“And I got some bits and pieces for other people, as well.” He said. “And then I had to find the right place for dinner tonight.”

He explained to you that this was no easy feat - not with a group of this size. He had to find something within a reasonable distance of the hotel, someplace that could meet everyone’s dietary requirements. The restaurant’s menu needed to have at least one dish that could meet the standards of the group’s fussiest eater, which was Victoria.

On his mobile phone, he showed you the menu. But these dishes held very little significance for you. This was the same case with the words he was saying.

You knew that it was rude. You were also aware that a large quantity of women would do literally anything to get to share a conversation with him.

But you couldn’t help yourself, your eyes were back on your boyfriend. Your mind was wandering, looking at all that was so purposefully on display was inspiring memories to pop into your head. They were rushing at you, and soon you were imagining what it would be like to go further than you had in those past experiences. These thoughts had a temperature to them and your mouth rested open.

Damiano cleared his throat. “Look, I’m trying to not take this personally, ‘cause I get that you’re probably hungover. But are you listening to a single word that I’m saying?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am. The restaurant looks great.” You tried your best to recover, training your eyes back on him. “So, did you have fun last night?”

It didn’t take long for your attention to be captured by Ethan once again. Movement caught your eye, alerting you to the fact that he was retying his hair.

Something so mundane, you had seen him complete this action thousands of times. But right now it was utterly fascinating to you, too fascinating for you to do anything but watch.

With his arms raised and his hands in motion, you tracked how all of those toned muscles worked together. You noticed every single flex and got hungry for him to let you feel his power. Having him use his strength against you felt like the most worthwhile way to be spending your time currently.

Behind your sunglasses, your eyes moved down to his nipples and you thought about pinching them again. But you wouldn’t be giggling this time around. This time would be for real, you wanted to know how he would respond. You wondered how the expression on his face would alter.

It was the thought about what he would do to you in retaliation that got your heart beating faster.

And this was probably exactly what he wanted, which was a frustrating outcome. As he finished fixing the hair elastic into place around his bun, he looked directly at you.

And there was a smile on his face - it was small, but it was there, a departure from his typical ‘resting business-meeting face’ that earned him such teasing. With no one else closeby, it was quite clear what he was smiling about. He was smug, most likely congratulating himself on getting you all hot and bothered.

“Ethan should be in jail.” You blurted it out carelessly.

You saw Damiano visibly flinch at your exaggerated statement. “Fucking Hell. What kind of feral shit were you two freaks doing to each other last night?”

You shook your head, dismissing the misinterpretation. “No, nothing like that. But just look at him- don’t you agree that he’s a menace to society?”

“I mean, I guess.” Damiano didn’t sound very convinced. He didn’t see it the same as you, he hadn’t been victim to Ethan’s obnoxious flaunting before.

It was a while later when Ethan approached you, putting an end to your solitude. Your eyes moved up-and-down his body, because your mind was still full of depraved thoughts.

“Hey creep, is your magazine a good read?” He asked.

You readjusted in your chair and took a cursory glance at the pages you were currently open to. “Uh-huh, very interesting.”

“Awesome.” He sat down on the chair next to yours. “I’m guessing that Damiano told you about the dinner plans for tonight.” You nodded your head and plucked up your handbag, shoving your mobile phone inside. “And he told you what time the reservation is for…” You returned your magazine to the bag, then turned yourself around to place your feet on the ground. “So you’ll know when you have to be ready.”

You stood up. “Yeah, Damiano made sure I knew all that. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” He repeated, his brow furrowed as you took your first step. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not going to dinner.” You said, starting to walk in the direction of the pool area’s exit.

He quickly followed along. “How come? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” You said, pleased with yourself in this moment. “I’m just gonna be too busy to go.”

“Busy, with what exactly?”

You made sure there was a wall between you and everyone at the pool before you stopped walking. “Fucking my boyfriend.”

He stood opposite you, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. “Fucking… because that’s your…”

While he was still talking, you put your hands to the hem of your blouse. You lifted the material and his words were halted by you exposing your bare breasts to him. Instantly his wide eyes were taking in this sight and you were feeling like you had beat him - whatever game he had been playing was now over.

You let the shirt fall back down so that you could grab his hand with yours, he was still silent, but you weren’t.

“Let’s go.” You said, beginning to lead him back up to your suite.

*** *** ***

You acted upon your eagerness before you were back to the privacy of your suite. These impulses had been gaining power for hours and you were done with holding back.

Once you were alone in the elevator, you launched yourself at him. As you shared breathless kisses, your hands had grabbed for his hair, your fingers seeking to get rid of the hair-tie. Once it was free, you wrapped the long hair around your fingers and he was holding you to his body.

You barely heard the elevator’s automated ding to signal that you had reached your level. He grabbed your hand and led the way to your door. You were grinning as you kept up with him, ecstatic that the two of you were finally on the same page.

But when the door of your suite was shut, his demeanour changed. You moved to stand in front of him (intending to secure more kisses) and found a different look on his face. His eyes were no longer wide and now he wore an expression of annoyance - not unlike how he had looked when ranting at you at the start of the day. It shifted the atmosphere and you were stopped in your tracks from getting another kiss.

“Get on your knees.” He said it without any kindness, far too firm for it to be mistaken as a request.

But you were too surprised to be able to do anything at first, so startled that you could have laughed. “What are-?”

Your words were halted when he placed both of his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t have to tell you what he was talking about when he could so easily just show you. He pushed down and you went with this movement, bending your knees. You lowered yourself to the carpeted floor, tilting your head back so that you could keep your eyes on his serious face.

“I guess you don’t feel like saying please.” You said as his stony exterior stirred something inside of you.

“I guess I don’t feel like dealing with anymore fuckin’ attitude out of you.” He said, prompting you to open your mouth because you were ready with your reply. You were ready to defend yourself, and argue if you had to. You were going to remind him of the outcome of this morning’s discussion - that he was going to be happy if you were. And you hadn’t done anything worthy of being called a brat today.

But before you could breathe a single syllable, he was snapping his fingers, surprising you again. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson about how sometimes you go too far with your attitude and it’s not the kind of thing that I’m just gonna let fly.” He said.

You found that any argumentative things to say were floating out of your head. Instead you were taking in his position of authority. You weren’t accustomed to carrying yourself like a submissive, but the way he was acting impressed upon you that it would be correct to behave as such.

Everything that you had anticipated for this afternoon was swiftly flying out the window.

But you had no motivation to resist this altered dynamic. You didn’t dislike how small you felt in this moment, positioned at his feet. You were granted a view of his body that differed from the typical, and the curves of his muscles were more defined - inviting you to stare more. It prompted more admiration, encouraging you to feel small in comparison. You registered the fact that he had all of the power, and you had none.

“Are you ready to learn your lesson?” He asked of you.

There was no fight or sass in you, all that you wanted to do was consent. “Yes.”

“Then you can stand up.”

You were already feeling a little shaky as you got to your feet, ready to be blown away by him.

His hands returned to your body, grabbing you by the biceps. You saw his jaw clench, that displeased look remaining. He pushed you backwards and you were trying to not lose your balance as he started walking forward, moving you in his momentum. Until your back reached the wall. You were pressed into the wall with him leaning in, filling your personal space. And you welcomed it, licking your lips as you tilted your head in anticipation of getting a kiss.

Before this could happen, you were being spun around. He moved too quickly for you to keep up and before you knew what was going on, your front was being shoved to the wall. Your heart was pounding, this was more than you could have imagined and your thighs were twitching.

“You want me to kiss you, is that what you want, baby?” He asked, and there was something about hearing him taunt that made you want to melt. “Because if that’s how you want it, just say. And we can kiss and have all of the eye-contact and I’ll give you everything you want.” Another shove got your face closer to the wall. “But I could have sworn that you said you were ready to learn your lesson.”

“I am ready.” You said.

“You’re definitely not ready.”

Before you could even start asserting your willingness to do all of this, he interrupted your thoughts by grabbing for the fly of your denim shorts. He unbuttoned them, swiftly pulling the zipper down. With them loosened he could tug them down, yanking until they were tumbling, falling down to the ground.

Then his hands went to your panties and he grabbed two fistfuls of the thin material (which was no longer dry). You expected these to be pulled down too. Instead he moved his fists in opposite directions, stretching the material to its absolute limit. Until you were hearing the lingerie rip, falling limp onto your skin. You gasped and it felt like there was fire coursing through your veins.

Slap. The sound of his open hand striking your bare butt seemed to echo in the otherwise-silent room.

You felt the stinging follow-up to this strike so much deeper than the surface. It rattled through you, the powerful action demanding a powerful response. Your heart skipped over a few beats as you settled into the fact that you had no idea what was going to happen next.

You were yanked away from the wall, feeling as weightless as a ragdoll when he swept you up into his arms. With the side of your body pressed to him, your feet were taken from the ground.

“You can say stop at any time, okay?” He told you, the harsh edge taken out of his tone briefly.

“Okay.” You repeated without any real intention of interrupting him with that mood-killer of a word.

Aside from showing you this small mercy, he wasn’t done with laying down the law and you soon found yourself being tossed onto the unmade bed. You landed on your chest and didn’t instantly roll over to look at him, or seek a more comfortable position. Instead, with your thoughts racing, you waited for his guidance on what came next.

This came in the form of him climbing onto the bed alongside you. He wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, applying enough pressure to keep you from raising your head.

You could get yourself free if you truly wanted to. It wouldn’t take all of your strength and you could execute it in about three moves.

But that didn’t interest you at all. You were savouring how it felt to be at his mercy. It was so arousing to know how little he was holding back. You wanted to know all of the desires that had prompted this change in him, you wanted to experience them all.

His free hand was used to smack one of your ass cheeks. Your breath got caught in your throat because this was the hardest he had ever spanked you. Immediately it set the tone, another sign of how he wasn’t holding back. This wasn’t going to be like any past spankings, it wasn’t part of a seduction or to tease you into getting hornier. There was no playfulness in how he wanted to make his point.

Your other cheek was treated to its own equally hard smack. You squeezed your eyes shut and your heart was beating harder with each passing second.

You were still feeling the effects of the second spank when the third landed upon your butt. Blood was rushing to this area, his hands leaving behind pink marks, which were only going to get brighter.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that came in response to the fourth spank. The intensity was so much, building up a pressure that dominated your thoughts, demanding that nothing else be thought of.

He took his hand off of your neck, using it to grab a section of your hair. He tugged, prompting you to lift your head from the sheets. “Did you say something, babe?”

“Nope.” You quickly responded.

“Good, because I-” He struck your ass. “-am not-” You experienced another slap. “-done.”

He released your hair and shoved you back down to the mattress. You arched your back, showing your willingness by presenting your butt to him. You were soon feeling the seventh spank. You audibly gasped, your toes curling a little.

“I’m a fan of these noises you’re making.” He said, during the fragile calm between spanks. “You wanna make some more for me?”

You turned your head, resting your cheek on the covers. “Yes.”

From your current viewpoint you couldn’t look at him properly. Mostly you could see the arm that was keeping you held down, the muscles tensed as he exerted his control. You wondered if he was erect by now, or was it just you getting all worked up?

You smiled when you felt the next spank, letting out a loud whimper as more of your body responded to this. You licked your lips, you had decided that the way your skin was stinging felt good. You were starting to hope for him to hit you hard enough to make you feel it each time you sat down tomorrow.

Your pussy was throbbing as he landed a sharp slap onto each cheek. You whined loudly for him. Feeling the absence of any shame, you were prepared to get even louder for him. He had moved you into the mindset that you would do whatever it took.

“Does that hurt?” He asked as you were waiting for the next spank to come.

“I can take it.” You said, giving your sore ass a quick wiggle.

“Still so confident.”

You continued to wait for the thrill of another spank, unwilling to catch your breath. Instead you felt him moving around the bed and his hand left the back of your neck.

From his new position, he reached a hand under your body. You hadn’t been given any kind of guidance to move, so you were still as you observed what he was doing. The palm of his hand faced upwards as he slid his hand down to your crotch.

Your heart leapt when his finger moved between your labia majora, making contact with your clitoral hood. You were already so turned on that you were instantly sensitive to the touch.

“Oh.” He said and you were biting into your bottom lip. “I can’t even pretend to be surprised that you’re this wet.”

You hummed in response, delighted by the way he had started to rub you. You shut your eyes and sank into this treatment, not bothering to question his motives.

Remaining face-down, you felt the potential of melting at his touch. He worked his finger in little circles over the hood with the perfect amount of pressure. You whimpered again, hoping this was to his liking as you indulged in this wonderful stimulation.

But before he could take you up to that next, blissful level he was taking his hand away. You froze, too caught off-guard to know what to do.

Your mouth hung open as you waited, absolutely yearning for more. He didn’t provide it, pulling his hand out from underneath you, then you were feeling the mattress shift as he got up. You were too stunned to give him any attitude about this, silently turning your head so you could watch him. He was calmly walking across the floor, going over to shut the curtains (which you hadn’t noticed until this moment).

The suite got darker, but you could still see him as he slid his swimwear off. You saw how his erect cock pointed out directly in front of him, now that it was freed. You couldn’t help squirming a little as he came back over to the mattress.

Instead of progressing and climbing on top of you, he resumed his spot sitting next to you. You grabbed for handfuls of the bedsheets as you anticipated what he would do next. You knew exactly what you wanted (the picture was so clear in your head), but you also knew that you were in no position to lay out any kind of demands of him.

He slid his hand under your body, touching your clitoris again. It pulsed against his finger as he gave you more of that Heavenly pressure. There was so much heat pooling in your cunt, which started to spread as he stroked the moist bud up-and-down. It didn’t take long for you to start making more noises for him.

These excited moans and whines were muffled when his available hand went to the back of your head, turning it, then pushing your face back into the mattress. You didn’t object, you just concentrated on how good his consistent stroking felt.

You quivered against the mattress as you giddily explored more of this pleasure. You weren’t thinking about your sore ass as your fists shook around the sheets, getting taken away from every other part of your experience.

This moment seemed to stretch out and you weren’t sure how much time was passing as he went on manipulating your clitoral hood. Even though you were hungering for more than this, you kept your greediness to yourself. Because the way that his finger worked over the slicked peak did feel really good - it was turning your legs to jelly and it was better than getting nothing from him. It was best to not push your luck with him right now.

It felt like he was settling into a promising rhythm when he stopped, pulling away a second time. Your fists continued to shake as you tried to catch your breath.

You gave your feet a little kick as the frustration rushed into you. You had to fight for it to not get the better of you, because all that you wanted to do was swear (maybe raise your voice a little). But that was the opposite of the behaviour he was currently seeking, and you had dedicated yourself to doing whatever it took. And what it took was putting up with this teasing.

He got up for a second time, but you didn’t watch what he was doing beyond the bed. You heard movements but you were concentrating on taking deep breaths, trying to find a way to tap back into your patience.

You caught your first whiff of cigarette smoke, then a second later, the mattress was shifting under his weight when he returned.

He started to slide his hand under you, resuming that spot at your pussy. Your breath came in quicker at the feel of his touch on your clitoral hood.

“Do you like that?” He asked, working his finger in circles. “Is this the attention you’ve been dying for all day?”

You squirmed with a whimper. “Fuck yes.”

You sank into the pleasure even more, obsessed with every masterful swirl of his finger. Your eyes were shut as you stopped caring about trying to predict when he would stop next, just focused on the heat that this treatment sent pumping through your body. You fell for the teasing, fell for it unashamedly.

The pressure from his finger increased, sparking more excitement from you. You put the energy buzzing inside of you to use, starting to work your hips in the interest of more pressure. You rocked your hips, trying to match his tempo as the possibility of him stopping floated out of your head. Instead you were letting the sensations build, anticipating how they could ruin you.

The smell of cigarette smoke was coming in stronger as all of your senses feasted on this moment. He was still stroking you to perfection and you made sure to keep moaning for him.

You weren’t close - more so on the path to getting close. But the disappointment was present all the same when he stopped yet again. You lamented the loss of this momentum with a whine.

“Don’t worry babe, I am going to fuck you.” He said, drawing his hand out from underneath you. “But first you’ve gotta clean your horny mess off of my hand.”

“Okay.” You said, turning your head.

He shoved his hand into your face and obediently you opened your mouth - even though there was something else you would rather be sucking on. He placed two of his fingers between your lips and you began rubbing your tongue against them, collecting the accumulated moisture. You felt somewhat dazed as you looked at him, it seemed like it had been hours since you had properly looked at him. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, you thought that he appeared slightly bored.

He pulled his hand back, a string of saliva falling from your lip. In a flash, he was moving again. He sprang up onto his knees and moved into the space behind you. Before you had the time to glance back at him, he was prompting movement from you as well, his hands going to your hips. He pulled them up and you walked your knees forward, lifting your ass into the air.

Your head remained resting on the mattress while you braced yourself with your knees set up beneath you. He got himself lined up with you, his knees close to yours. He stayed upright as he got even closer. You arched your back, incredibly keen for him to finally do away with the dreadful distance between the two of you.

“Put your hands behind your back.” He ordered.

There were tremors in your hands as you lifted them up, crossing one wrist over the other at the small of your back. Instantly he grabbed for this, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. It was just another way for him to exert his power over you, and you gave into it, you were more than ready to lose control.

He began to lean into you, his hips meeting your butt before you felt his dick at your pussy. Instead of delving inside of you, he pushed forward, his shaft rubbing against your labia majora. His dick was smeared with your wetness as he stroked himself back-and-forth in this area. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back the urge to complain over how you definitely didn’t need any further warming up.

You were still waiting for penetration when he startled you with a spank to your raised ass. You could have screamed.

But you were swiftly forgetting about the pain, distracted by the sensation of him starting to bury himself inside of your pussy. Your gut tightened and for a second you forgot to breathe. He was seemingly done with making you wait, pushing his hips forward to fill as much of you as quickly as he could. You welcomed it, feeling a glimmer of relief.

You were given a moment to adjust as he leisurely took a drag from his cigarette. You heard him exhale deeply while your own breathing remained shallow.

Your body was already overly-sensitive when he started to work his hips at a quick pace. It was instantly exciting, at the threshold of what you could take. It was an effort for you to get yourself meeting his thrusts, trying to catch up with him.

You greeted almost every powerful thrust with a whimper. These vocalisations got louder when he pulled your face out of the covers, grabbing and tugging on your hair. Your desperate noises accompanied the consistent slapping of skin-on-skin as his pacing persisted, unfailing.

Your hands uselessly curled into fists and you wished you had the sheets to grip onto. At the same time, your walls were clenching around him, greedy in a way that you had no power over. You could feel yourself getting closer.

His hand pulled at your hair, bringing your head further back. Then he released the strands and repositioned to grab your throat, holding it securely. A new wave of pleasure rushed you as your ability to breathe became a little restricted.

And he wasn’t letting go, his fingers holding steady as you felt the slight pressure on your windpipe. Your mouth opened as he kept pounding you, so intent on destroying you. Your tongue slithered down, seeking out where his thumb was resting against your face.

“Oh, my God…” You rasped before you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb.

When his next jerk into you brought him deeper, colliding with your sweet spot, your eyes rolled up. Your breathing halted and your long-bullied composure was facing a very powerful threat. It wanted to shatter, poised to burst inside of you as the pleasure kept rising.

But would he allow that? You weren’t confident that you had enough strength left to do what it took to be obedient.

“I need to…” Your words came out in a choked sob.

His fingers loosened on your neck. “Sorry, you need to breathe?”

“No.” You said and if your hands were free, you would have pushed him back to choking you. “Need to come, fuckin’ Hell, baby.”

His concern disappeared just as fast as it had presented itself and he was back to working you over at full-force. His hand resumed its squeeze on your neck, the other still locked around your wrists. “Should I let you? Hm, do I need to let you come?”

“Oh, Ethan…” You whimpered pathetically. “Please.”

“Yes, beg me just like that.”

“Please. Pleasepleaseplease, please, please.” You rushed to say them all, stopping when you ran out of breath. You inhaled and pleaded more, your voice wanting to fail you as your effort went to keeping your body in motion with his. “Please Ethan…”

You were quaking as your body lingered at that intimidating edge. You squirmed into his jackhammering, the pleasure and the tension were an incomprehensible force inside of you. You sputtered out more pleas, existing only in this state of desperation.

It was past the point of too much and you screamed when he let go of your wrists so that he could slap you on the ass. Your body seized, unable to figure out what to do with the surprise.

“Come then, you brat.” He instructed.

You let the relief burst into you, thoroughly falling apart at the next collision of his tip at your sweet spot. Spasming, your pussy gushed out all of the pent-up desire and you forgot yourself.

The overdue climax made you go limp, your body slightly lowering towards the mattress. You cupped your burning hot face in your hands and your mind felt like a plate of scrambled eggs. You fell out of his reckless pacing.

You flinched, screaming a little when his hand fell to your ass for more spanking. In a whole new way, you were ridiculously weak compared to him.

“Don’t quit on me yet.” He growled.

You had absolutely no response to this as you were close to being overwhelmed by the friction created by his continuous fucking. You felt like you were going to melt into a puddle, so far past the point of coming as his dick throbbed inside of you.

But your state wasn’t the priority. Your job was to make it easy for him to use you. Your knees were wobbly but you kept them planted on the bed, conscious of keeping your butt raised for him. You wanted to crumple, but you didn’t, you put your effort into receiving each of his impassioned pumps.

Until it was enough, until the squeezing of your pussy milked his release out of him. Moving unpredictably, he started to unload into you, moaning as he filled your cunt with a new heat.

His hands relaxed on you as he lazily grinded into you to finish himself off. You bowed your head down to the bed, shutting your eyes as you were ready to drift off to the sound of him gasping your name, amongst other curse words.

You were grateful to finally get to lie down, moving your head to the pillow as you started to catch your breath. The scent of his cigarette swarmed into your nostrils.

He landed onto the mattress next to you, the harshness taken out of his words when he spoke. “You okay, creep?”

You opened your eyes a little, finding him lying on his back beside you. You smiled, still feeling the giddy affects of your afterglow. “I’m great. I’d be even better with a cigarette in hand, but I’ll survive.”

He lifted himself up so that he could kiss you before he got out of the bed. You rolled onto your side, planning to fall asleep before bothering to get up like him. Your eyes drifted over to the drawn curtains and you noticed that there wasn’t the same glare of sunlight pushing in around the edges, apparently the sun had begun to set.

He wandered back into your line of sight, an unlit cigarette and one of your lighters in hand. He joined you on the bed, handing these items to you.

You placed the fresh cigarette between your lips, surveying him as you ignited the lighter. “So you got all of that out of your system, eh?”

He smiled. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t particularly mad about the whole thing. Your tantrum was annoying, a really shitty note to end the night on- but mostly, I wanted to get back at you for all of that attitude.”

You raised your head from the pillow, you were feeling some of your energy come back. “You weren’t that mad, are you seri-...? I’d hate to get you actually mad, then you might reach all new levels of obnoxiousness.”

He feigned surprise, wide-eyed. “Obnoxious? I would never.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a drag of your cigarette. “Oh yes you would. You were being the most teasing son of a bitch that’s ever existed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much unnecessary titty-flexing in my whole life.”

“Well you’re the idiot that fell for the world’s most teasing son of a bitch.” He said, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“Yep, that was a big-time idiot move.” You said in response to the smug look on his face.

He ran his fingers tenderly up-and-down the side of your neck. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nope, not at all. I really liked it.”

“Yeah, I could feel how much you were enjoying that part.” He said, securing another kiss. “Maybe I should do that more…” He kissed you deeply and you draped an arm around his neck as your body naturally turned towards his.

You lightly sucked on his lower lip before allowing the kiss to be broken. “When are you gonna ask if my ass is hurting?”

“Right now.” He said, trailing his fingertips down your spine. “Did I hurt that fine ass?”

“A little, you gonna kiss it better?” You teased.

“Dream on, creep.” He said. “I love you.”

You tightened your arm around him, wanting him closer. “I love you too.” You hesitated before kissing him, your mouths inches apart. “Obnoxious son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, but I’m your obnoxious son of a bitch.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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