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kingtomura · 11 months ago

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Good Girl

Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off.

Bad idea.

Word count: 4k

part two is here!

Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon.

“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”

“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”

Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins.

There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way.

“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating.

He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse. “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.”

This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.

And Tomura was going to be upset.

In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in.

He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.

You text him.

You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.

There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off.

And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window.

A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts.

You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick.

Tap.

There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination.

Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.

Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work.

You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here.

You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you.

Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.

“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear.

“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki.

He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”

You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”

“He can't do that.”

You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse. ��I don't want it to be this way.”

“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.

Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up.

You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment.

You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist.

Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn– the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.

“Get on the bed.”

And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver.

“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”

You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again.

He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away.

The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room.

“Be quiet for me, yeah?”

Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”

The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you.

This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over–

Knock knock.

“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.”

It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference.

Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both.

“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”

At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit.

If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”

You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet.

“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.”

His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave.

“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.”

It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”

Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you.

He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock.

“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm.

Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip.

“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it.

His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you. You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.

Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets.

The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy.

“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.”

You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”

“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”

You are so fucked.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my works #tomura shiragaki #tomura x reader #mha tomura #shigaraki smut #fanfic #my hero academia

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cl3fairyyy · 9 months ago

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hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters.

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you.

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months.

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other.

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment.

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment.

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you.

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery.

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved.

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you.

we’re finally making some REAL change : )

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek.

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it.

‘Dear Riddler,

Come find me.’

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before.

He definitely likes it.

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine.

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner.

You’re his prey.

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out.

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms.

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.”

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently.

“Looks like you caught me.”

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine.

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it.

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.”

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.”

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible.

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee.

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him.

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.”

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.”

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit.

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.”

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say.

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.”

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look.

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes.

“I need more.”

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm.

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex.

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask.

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.”

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him.

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.”

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands.

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.”

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...”

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you.

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?”

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat.

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.”

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own.

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor.

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.”

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you.

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.”

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax.

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.”

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly.

“I didn’t go too far, did I?”

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in.

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.”

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking.

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips.

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.”

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you

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elsfairy · 2 years ago

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COOKING with Sevika;

I'd love to cook with her, what the fuck?

• At any given point, she will try distracting you. Either that being playing with your hair when you're mixing the ingredients for your cookies. Or taking, and hiding the things you needed.

• Will laugh watching you struggle to find whatever she tries to hide on the top shelf. Not your fault you're short as shit.

• Eventually she will help you.

• Can't help but find it amusing and adorable when you get excited about those stupid cookie cutters she bought you. (you were eyeing them up for weeks)

• Sevika loved cooking with you, but ask that woman to crack an egg she will walk away. She didn't like the feeling of it. The texture made her skin crawl. For you though? she would do it, somehow.

• Has a serious habit of hitting you on the ass with that stupid spatula. You weren't sure why, but she loved doing it. You didn't mind though.

• Secretly enjoys making cupcakes with you more than cookies, but just seeing how happy you are, makes her happy. So she is down to make anything with you. Again, but no touching eggs.

• Has a HUGE habit of rubbing the cookie/cake batter over your face. Literally anywhere she can find space, she is right there with it, waiting. She was indeed a brat when it involved cooking with you.

• "Hey, you look pretty hot with that stuff on your face sweetheart"

• Sometimes it didn't even have to be baking. Sevika was actually a really good cook, so some nights you would just be in the silent kitchen in each others presence, cooking your dinner.

• You can guarantee whatever plays on the radio, Sevika will hum along while adding those stupid (yet cute) sparkles on her cookies. She loved it secretly.

• Cooking and baking always made you miss your family, so she would be right there wrapping her arms around you, reassuring you that it's okay.

• The days you didn't feel like cooking because you weren't feeling okay, Sevika would do everything in her power to at least get you into the kitchen, just to be there with her. She loved when you were around. You always agreed because well, you loved her and loved seeing her happy.

• She was always the one to accidently burn herself when using the stove or oven. Literally every single time.

• "Most scariest woman in Zaun, and you can't handle this?" You always teased her with no doubt.

• She is the type to admire you from afar when you're zoned out in your own world.

• Holds you, even after you're both done with making food.

• Steals more cookies from the tray for later when you're not looking. You aren't that blind though. You know her antics, in & out.

• Tells you over and over that you always make the best food/treats, even though you tell Sevika that she was in fact the better cook between the two of you guys.

• The rest of the night is just spent cuddled up together, eating your cookies and listening to the rain against the window.

Note; I'll be honest. Im slowly losing my shit. As much as i would love to be able to, i cannot fathom on how to write a full 3/4k word fucking Sevika x Reader imagine. For the ever loving Christ, i cannot get into doing one. It starts off fine, then my ADHD will come out, and i will end up writing a bunch of random words and end up stressing myself out. Head canons for me, are easier because this way i can somehow make it make sense? i think, idk. The small imagines are fine but when it comes to actually writing one with a full plot, adding more characters, set fucking scenes? i panic because i am very insecure with my writing, how it looks and sounds. I also fucking suck at writing smut. So there is that :/ Last night i deleted like 5 drafts because it just downright sucked ass. I've been staring at my cooking with Sevika head canon for 3 hours (This one) and im just loosing my fucking mind, because i feel like it's just not good enough but oh well, enjoy it. Sorry for the rant.

#sevika x you #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika headcanon #sevika imagine

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lautakwah · 5 months ago

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hey ling, hope ur doing well and was wondering if i could ask some advice - totally ok if no but. im currently trying to screen record a cdrama right now so i can rewatch it later w/o paying, but i only recorded one episode and it's taken up all my icould and google drive storage 😭 i was wondering if u knew anything i could do, since i feel like r educated in the ways of 🏴‍☠️ 😭

screenrecording is the least efficient way of doing it i think :( ive never tried to do it for more than maybe a few minutes-long clips (most are around 30-40 seconds!), and doing it bloats your memory while also being worse quality. now the last thing may not be a huge deal (i personally dont mind if sth is 4k or 480/720p, esp since older films and dramas simply are harder to find in full hd), but storage efficiency is what you're here for so!!

delete things (files, programs, games, etc) you don't use (anymore), as that probably already opens up a ton of space. there are programs that can help you with looking up which files and shit you use/open the least.

when pirating, ofc use a trusted site and client but also check which files are the smallest and just get that one (unless youre a gifmaker or a real stickler for hd, 720p will suffice imo). tv series in my experience run about 20-30gb if theyre 1080, so even smaller if it's not as hd! google drive only gives 15gb but i think if you compress it into a zip file it miiiiiight fit? if not you can just split it between gdrive and your icloud :)!

an alternatuve option would be to find a streaming wrbsite that had the series but not paywalled, it's less work but the downside is that you can't access this offline (the main reason i like owning (digital) copies)

last but not least, and unfortunately this is the best way to have enough storage: invest in an external hard disk. if you're planning on having more tv series (and perhaps movies) on ur pc/laptop, the best and easiest way to make sure you (almost) never run out of storage is to just... buy more! i splurged on a 5tb external hard disk with bday-christmas money but obviously even having a 256gb/512gb one will be enough if you're not obsessed with putting entire filmographies on there like me djfngmv even getting a bunch of 32/64/128gb usb sticks will prob help out, and while it absolutely is an investment, if you're already paying for a subscription this is a surefire way to make sure you get your money's worth in case they take it off the platform or whatever (looking at how guardian got the boot from literally every streaming platform including yt 😭😭😭)

anyway i hope this helps!! :3

#answered #anonymous

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analogwriting · 11 months ago

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Not the American Average

Sabo x gn!reader

word count: 4k

a/n: disclaimer; i tried my hardest to keep it vague enough to keep it gender neutral. lemme know if i fucked up lmao.

also i was listening to an old middle school playlist when ntaa by asking alexandria played (an old fave of mine, still goes hard btw). and i instantly thought of sabo mostly bc he's british n so is danny (lead singer) and the whole song is just about him fuckin' an american girl (for the first time, i'm pretty sure). ANYWAY i could go on about the lore but this is my first time posting my smut so don't judge me too hard. i also wrote this, in, like, two hours n im v sleep deprived. okie imma stop ramblin' now (idk if you can see it but the bolded is the lyrics of the song)

On a night after heavy drinking, Sabo finds himself stumbling to a hotel with someone he’d been eyeing at the bar all week. He was currently in this town on a mission. With how much he’d had to drink, he couldn’t even recall the mission right now - not that it mattered, it was over with anyway. He was just enjoying the last few nights he had here before he had to move on to the next one.

“One, two, three…four! Here we are,” he said, fumbling with his keys. A giggle escapes from your lips as you hang on his arm. You watched him struggle for a moment before taking them from him and successfully opening the door. He stared at you for a moment, once again, your words ringing in his head. When he had finally built up the courage to seek you out, you had surprised him with all the obscenities you had whispered in his ear. Even church grandmothers’ would’ve fainted at your words - however it had only made his own heart race.

In your drunken conversation, you had told him he could do whatever he wanted. That you could see the feral side of him that he kept deep down within him. That you wanted him to bring it out and use it against you. And he had taken you up on it. It all seemed too good to be true.

Sure, he’s had people say things like that before, but none of them ever stuck through with their words and there was always a hint of hesitation. However, the way you said it? There was a certain tone of your voice that he couldn’t say no to.

He felt like it was a dream. “All the things that you said, was it all in my head?” he mumbled to himself. “Huh?” You turned to look at him and he just smiled, sliding his arms around your waist as he kissed you hard.

He could hear a gasp fall from your lips accompanied by a loud moan. You were just as excited as he was.“Come on, baby…” He kissed at your neck, causing you to moan a little louder. He felt as your hands gripped his sleeves. “Keep it down.” He brought a gloved hand up and traced your jawline before going over your bottom lip.. “Honey, hush your lips.” You pushed forward, kissing him hard and pushing him into the threshold of the dingy hotel room he had been staying in these last few days.

A low chuckle escaped from him as you immediately began to tear off his clothing. He closed the door behind him, doing the same to you. Clothes training from the backdoor, to the bedroom. You two were on a mission and nothing was stopping you, not even undressing. Your lips barely left one another, constant contact was established. An addiction already seemed to be starting to form - which could be dangerous.

Sabo realizes something, chuckling softly. “I’ve been watching you the last few nights and I don’t even know your name,” he purred against your neck as he started to attack it once more. He kissed and bit at your flesh, feeling himself growing harder every time you let out a whine.

Oh, how he loved the way you reacted to his touches. You seemed to melt against him, your body molding perfectly with his. The only regret he had now was not doing this with you sooner.

He watched you as a coy look spread across your face. “Mm, we can do introductions later. Easier for you to degrade me if you don’t know.” You winked at him, and he felt his heart racing. How the hell were you so fucking perfect? You were like an answer to his dreams. Excitement filled his chest and he kissed you hard, gripping your hips roughly. When you gasped, he used this opportunity to let his tongue explore the insides of your mouth.

After a moment, he pulled away, leaving both of you panting. “Give me all you got - make this night worth my time.”

You laugh, and by golly, it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. It’s what drew his attention to you in the first place. He had been in mid conversation with someone when he heard it the first time. His head snapped over so quickly that his colleague was concerned he’d break it. “How about you make this worth my time,” you teased, tugging on his hair to kiss him once more and he groaned against you. Fuck, you and that tongue of yours.

You drove him wild, making him all kinds of excited. He’s never felt so alive. Never had a hookup who met his own energy. He might just have to take you with him if everything went well enough. His cause always needed more people and you seemed competent enough. Or maybe he’d just keep you around as his little whore.

He already knew that he was going to love every moment of this. “What I would give to live this night again,” he mumbled against you once more, his hands trailing down your arms before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head as he pushed you against the wall. You gasped, looking at him with a mix of surprise and excitement. “We haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet,” you purred, licking your lips as you took him in. The hungry look in your eyes was going to drive him over the edge.

“I knew when I first saw you…” He trailed off, kissing at your jaw and nearing your ear, nipping it lightly. “You’d fuck like a whore.” He felt you shiver against him. You were loving this just as much as he was. “Mmm, only for those who I think have promise.” Oh, such sharp wit.

He watched you for a moment, grinning. Fuck, you were breathtaking. He didn’t know if he just wanted to sit and look at you or absolutely devour you. There was just something about you that made it hard for him to think straight. He dove back in, releasing your hands. They immediately found their way around his neck. He felt you tug his hair and he let out a growl.

He buried his face in your neck, covering you with hickies. Your little mewls and moans made him so painfully hard. His teeth grazed your skin before he bit down, rather hard, on your shoulder. You cried out, not from pain, but from absolute pleasure. He felt you move your hand, getting ready to cover your mouth when he stopped you. He pinned your wrist above your head, clicking his tongue.

“Oh, absolutely not. I hope they hear you scream for more.”

He watched in amusement as you squirmed beneath him, your face turning red. But he could also see the excitement in your eyes and, for a moment, he could’ve swore he could hear your heart racing. He kissed you again, moving to your jaw, your neck, your chest. He trailed his kisses down, down.

As he moved lower, he was eventually on his own knees, looking up at you. The lust filled look in your eyes easily kept him going. He was going to make sure you screamed with pleasure. He loved hearing the sounds you made. In one quick movement, he had one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh. He felt you shiver underneath his touch.

He grinned, feeling his own excitement growing. As much as he wanted to pin you to the bed and absolutely ravage you, he was having fun toying with you like this. “Your thighs were made for cheeks to graze.” He bit your inner thigh, causing you to squeak out another moan in surprise. He trailed his lips along your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your own arousal. The smell was intoxicating. You were like a beast in heat.

So was he.

The featherlight touches were making you squirm and mewl, something he was quite enjoying. You were riled up. “Please,” you begged. He felt his own heart race and he grinned. “We can’t rush these things.” He was honestly just enjoying the show. He stopped short of finally giving you what you wanted, causing you to whine.

He licked his lips, looking at you. He studied your face, admiring your lust blown pupils. “My lips will be your poison.”

He pulled away, removing your leg off of his shoulder which earned a confused look from you. He stood back up, kissing you again before he flipped you around. He pressed into your body, feeling you up and down. You gasped as the cool wall touched your bare skin. He felt as you shivered against him. “Oh, my apologies, didn’t mean to make you so cold.”

Suddenly, he bent you over, admiring your ass. He licked his lips, groping at you roughly, causing you to moan loudly and press into his touches. Your desperation was evident and he wanted to drive you absolutely insane. He was going to fine dine on this bodacious ass of yours.

He didn’t give you time to process exactly what was happening before he spread your cheeks and dove right in.

It wasn’t long before he felt you shaking, using all your strength and concentration to keep standing but you were sinking lower and lower. He watched as your nails dug into the wall and you threw your head back as you cried out with your climax. At least your first one - he planned on pulling out as many as he could tonight. He pulled away, watching in pride as you slowly slumped to your knees. “They bring you to your knees, huh?” You looked at him over your shoulder, panting heavily. The look in your eye made him grin. You were far from done and that’s exactly what he was going to hope for.

He stands up, looking down at you. You moved to stand and he held out a hand to stop you. His own throbbing cock was in your face now. “Get down. It’s almost over. The first act, at least.” He was so painfully hard and in desperate need of release. “Ah, come on now…”

You looked up at him through your lashes and he let out a small growl, taking a fistful of your hair and tugging it roughly. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned loudly, gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself. “Take it all the way,” he crooned.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You took him into your hand, pressing a kiss to the head of his cock before pressing a few down his shaft. Watching you practically worship his cock…it almost sent him over the edge and you hadn’t even done anything yet.

A smile spreads across your face and you look at him with a lust fueled gaze. He felt his own body heat up and his brain short circuits for a moment. He didn’t have time to recover as you gobbled down his cock with ease. His eyes widened and his head fell back as he moaned loudly. Fuck, you felt so perfect. Your mouth was warm - throat tight. He might get addicted to you, honestly.

Then you started to absolutely go to town on his cock like some professional. As if your only job in life was to suck his cock. His head was spinning and he could already feel himself ready to finish. Were you trying to embarrass him by finishing him off quickly?

Before he could stop you to try and regain his composure, he came hard down your throat. His own voice filled the small room as he moaned along with his release. He looked down, watching you down every drop like it was the first meal you’d had in days. He was panting, his head falling back as he closed his eyes - just enjoying the feel of post climax. His whole entire body was buzzing, but he wasn’t done yet either.

Oh no. He was far from it.

Yanking you by your hair, he pulls you off of him with an audible ‘pop’. The noise resonated with his ears. He liked that noise. You hummed, looking up at him with a half lidded look that only furthered his hunger for you. He pulls you up on your feet, crashing his lips with yours. The both of you making animalistic groans against each other. He could feel your heart racing right along with his. His arms moved around your waist and he squeezed, causing you to squirm against him. “Sir,” you whined and he felt something within him snap.

“You stupid fucking whore, don’t you know how crazy you drive me?” he purred against your lips and you only answered with a breathless giggle. Even with his obscene words, you seemed to relish in them. Fuck, you were perfect.

He sat on the bed, looking up at you as you still stood. You leaned down to kiss him again, softer this time. In a way that caused his heart to race in a different kind of way. Butterflies gathering in his stomach. Oh, this was dangerous.

“And after all of all my dreaming being only you…” He leaned back as a lazy smile spread across his face, admiring your body. His eyes scanned every inch of you, burning you into his mind - you gave him a couple of poses. “You’re standing there…”

He licked his teeth, looking up at you. The gaze you were giving him caused his heart to jump into his throat. It was full of excitement and lust. He could tell you were barely holding back. He could only imagine what you were thinking right now. Oh, what he would give to be able to peek into that slutty mind of yours.

“Baby, oh the things that I could do.”

“Then do them.” His eyes widened as you moved to crawl into his lap and straddle him. Your arms found their way around his neck and you kissed him again, hungrier than the last. His hands rested on your hips, growling as you grinded into his lap. You were just trying to drive him mad, weren’t you?

“You seem to be trapped in your own head. Just act. Don’t think about it. I said anything, remember?”

He stared at you in disbelief. How were you already able to call him out so easily? It's like you saw right through him. Most people didn’t pay any mind to him. Didn’t notice just how in his own head he was. He was constantly thinking, hardly able to just…stop doing that.

A laugh escaped him and he shook his head. “Oh, I’m just relishing in the thought of absolutely ravaging you.”

“How about you make that thought a reality?” You kissed him again, causing his whole body to melt into you as you grinded into him again. He let out another growl, pinning you to the bed as he started to kiss and bite at your neck again. You squirm underneath him, letting out moans and pressing against him.

His hand travelled down your side and your own breathing hitched with anticipation.

Suddenly, he pulled away, moving to sit against the wall as he grabbed a drink off the nightstand. Probably from pregaming earlier. He leaned back with a lazy smile on his face. “Back to the wall with a drink in my hand?” He downed what was in the cup, tossing it to the side as he grinned widely. “Let the show begin.”

You looked at him, surely not knowing exactly what he meant by that. That was okay - you would soon enough.

“Stand.” You obeyed like an obedient animal, standing immediately. “Turn.” You did. “Back it up, baby, ride.” He leaned forward to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you over his lap. “Ride.” You leaned your head back, working your way onto his cock. “Riiiide,” he groaned slowly as you took him fully. It took some work, but you were able to take all of him in one go.

You’re so tight and so perfect. He almost couldn’t take it. He pulled you back to him, his mouth next to your ear. He’d never felt so good inside of someone. Hell, most of the time, people couldn’t take all of him. Or they’d end up just finishing from the penetration alone and be done. “You know, one step too late…” He chuckled softly, his thoughts trailing off as a new one formed. He was panting and not exactly speaking coherently. He was so excited and so extremely turned on that he couldn’t think straight. “And I never told you…that I can’t take another disappointment…” You started moving your hips, immediately driving him insane. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling it roughly.

You cried out, head falling back on his shoulder. “Are you saying you’re disappointed, sir,” you panted, relentless in your movements as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. A small chuckle escaped with a shake of his head. “Far from it, but hopefully you can keep up with me.” Usually, people tapped out after the first round. Or even after barely beginning. It was all so…disappointing. He bit onto your shoulder, squeezing your hip. A moan escaped from you. “This is only the first round, after all.”

You looked at him, not ceasing your movements. A grin spread across your face as you looked back at him. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me.” That was the second time you used his own words against him almost immediately.

He blinked, but wasn’t able to be shocked for too long before he groaned. You worked his cock like a pro but with your mouth and riding him. Were you actually like a whore like he had teased?

“Let’s see if you can keep that attitude.”

“I think I remember saying I’m at your disposal.”

Fuck, you really knew what to say, didn’t you? You knew just what to say to drive him absolutely wild. “That you did,” he mumbled, placing a hand at the back of your neck as you leaned forward to really start working him.

He moved quickly. Next thing you knew, you were being pushed into the bed with him absolutely drilling into you. An animalistic growl ripped from his throat as he finally wasn’t able to hold back anymore. He felt like an animal in heat and you were the only cure to that. It was a complete turn of personality from just moments ago. He had felt something finally snap and that was it.

He pistoned his hips in and out of you, slapping your ass and groping your thighs.

As you continued to moan and mewl under him, he realized you kept calling him ‘sir.’. Then it dawned on him that you didn’t know his name. Both of you were panting and groaning loudly, helplessly gripping at each other. He moved his hand to the back of your head as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up flush with his body. “Breathing and grasping…” He chuckled breathlessly against you. You cried out in absolute bliss, your eyes rolling back with pleasure.

“All leads to another messy ending…just how I like.” He kissed you. That’s exactly what he wanted. Another messy ending. An ending he wanted. Sometimes, he never even finished, but you had already milked one out of him tonight and he knew you were about to milk another.

He pushed you back down into the bed, feeling his own movements growing more sporadic as the coil in his stomach tightened. Then he felt you clench around him as you came with a cry. It sent him over the edge once more. With one last, very hard, thrust, he came hard inside of you - filling you up and then some. You let out a long whine as he did so, music to his ears.

Oh yeah. He was absolutely keeping you around.

“Mmm…” His mind was spinning and he felt himself already ready for another round. “Think you can still go?” His adrenaline was running wild and the beast not quite sated.

He slowly pulled out of you, watching as his own seed leaked from you. He sat on the bed, panting heavily, letting you catch your breath and choose whether or not you could go on. He watched you for a long moment. Your post climax face, your heavy panting. He just hoped that you’d be able to go again, but this was honestly the longest anyone has ever lasted.

“If you’re too exhausted-” He was cut off as he felt your hands on his chest. His eyes widened as he looked at you, gasping as you pushed him down and straddled him. You had a feral look in your eye that made his heart race. “Who said I was too exhausted?” You licked your lips, leaning down to look at him with a half lidded, lust filled expression. “I believe we had said we would go all night, no?” The purr to your voice…fuck. He might just fall in love with you at this rate.

He pulled you into another sloppy kiss. “How shall I take you next?” he asked, panting heavily.

“With your back against the wall? With your face buried in the pillow?” He grinned at you, wondering just how many different ways he’d be able to take you tonight.

A hum came from you, one that seemed to be thinking. “We can just see where things take us, yeah? I’m sure we’ll end up doing both anyway.” You grinned at him and by golly, he was absolutely sold. Your smile, your moans, the way you spoke to him, everything about you…it’s like you were made for him.

He silently thanked whatever the hell it was out there that looked over the world for granting him you. He suddenly felt your hand around his cock as you started to stroke it and he groaned, his own eyes rolling back. “I could die by your cock and I’d be happy,” you purred, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Die by my cock, huh?” He trailed his hands up your sides, one of them around your neck as he squeezed lightly. Will I see you cold? Will I feel you heartless?” You just smiled coyly at him, stroking him faster and causing him to lose his focus. He was having a hard time holding his calm demeanor together.

It wasn’t long before he had you in his arms, pinned up against the wall as he railed up into you. You were desperately clawing and scratching at his back. He was pretty sure you might have broken his skin, but he gladly welcomed the light sting. Something to remember the night by.

Once more the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and both of your moans. He didn’t feel sorry for any of the neighbors, he wanted people to hear just how good of a fuck you were. It gave him a thrill. He didn’t plan on letting you go now that he’s had you.

He slammed into you. “You stupid.” Again. “Fuckin’.” Again. “Bitch.” With each thrust, you cried out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He paused for a moment as you cried out, knowing he could get a little carried away, but you looked at him as if you were absolutely wasted. He supposed you were probably cock drunk.

“Fuckin’ bitch, did I say you could stop?” you slurred at him. His eyes widened and he felt his heart race once more as he started back up again. Hearing you call him such names really riled him up.

He knew after tonight he was taking you away with him.

#one piece #one piece x you #one piece x reader #sabo #revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader #sabo the revolutionary #ntaa #am fics

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imeternallylove · 1 year ago

Text

Moulin Rouge Sous le Ciel Bleu - S.Strange

Red Mill under the Blue Sky: the roaring '20s era

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Genre: angst and fluff, mostly bittersweet 💔✌️

Warning: forbidden love, sexual content

Word: approx 4k

main mastetlist | request | prompts

theme song (im very rec to listen while reading this)

A brilliant red mill stood out among the other buildings in the Jardin de Paris, at the foot of the hill in the Montmartre neighborhood, commanding attention with its vibrant color and unusual façade. Large metal letters spelled out the word Moulin Rouge over the entryway to the colorful venue. The Red Mill, because it was exactly what the building looked like. It certainly drew attention to itself, and Monsieur Strange had no doubt that this was the proprietors' goal. Moulin Rouge had grown infamous in Paris, and he had no doubt that it was also infamous throughout the rest of France.

The building's bright scarlet façade contrasted with the pristine blue of the sky above it, making it stand out even more on clear days like today. Stephen would not have imagined, looking at the red mill, that this was the edifice known as The Bastion of Pleasures in the city of love. It wasn't visually appealing, but it was a novelty, and the mill at the entryway was one of the reasons for the establishment's notoriety. That, and the female cabaret performers.

Stephen Vincent Strange, heir of an eastern trade enterprise and an expert in oriental goods, was known as "young Monsieur Strange." He had been sent to France by his father a year before starting university to acquire the French language, and now, years later, he was studying for a degree in Orientalism at the famed Sorbonne. He'd become a go-to man for Parisian socialites, advising them on real Chinese and silk textiles, among other things, all sourced from his family's import business.

But, underneath the elegant and wealthy heir, he had become enthralled by the revolution, a movement that began in the middle of the last century, a stride towards freedoms and liberties that he had never known in his own home of New York.

That's how he ended himself in the Moulin Rouge cabaret. Stephen adored it. The excitement of doing something that would be considered inappropriate in his own nation was exhilarating. He wished he was an artist or a poet some days. Of course, he was brilliant at both due to his considerable schooling, so it wasn't that he couldn't do either. Nonetheless, he wished that he could live off his riches and do whatever he pleased, composing poetry, creating watercolours on rice paper, and attending the cabaret.

Most crucially, in those crazy daydreams, he could freely love you.

You'd met when he came to consult with you about some costumes you were working on for a Moulin Rouge performance. The surroundings were supposed to be inspired by the Orient, interesting, exotic, and beautiful all at the same time, and you required assistance with the designs. Young Monsieur Strange had paid you a visit in your sewing chamber as an orientalist. He was impressed by the attention to detail you had placed into the costumes and was eager to help you in perfecting the ideas.

He was back in your workrooms a few weeks later, checking the finished product as well as the music hall stage set. Because your lodgings were close to the Moulin Rouge, he stopped by to see you and your fellow seamstresses on his way back. He had admired your outfits and had recommended you to the proprietors.

That's how you met and then kept meeting, each one ending with you smiling a little brighter, his smile getting cheekier and cheekier.

Stephen often assumed that falling in love with one of the dancers would be simple. Monsieur Strange, on the other hand, was not one to take the easy way out. He had been unimpressed by the dancers' charm, flirty manner, and womanly figure. He was an orientalist visiting Paris from his hometown, and he had no interest for the loud women of the cabaret, famous for their cancan.

Instead, he had chosen the difficult path. He fell for you.

It was an impossible love. Hopeless in more ways than one; not only had he fallen head over heels for you irrevocably and explicitly, but there was no future in which he could do so. Your love was ephemeral, not because the sensations vanished, but because you couldn't freely love each other in this world, neither in France nor anywhere else. It was a forbidden love.

Something forbidden.

It's a hopeless love.

You knew it wouldn't last, you wouldn’t; but nothing does, so you loved him the same way he loved you.

Stephen would never marry a mere seamstress. He was a class above you, and he was certain his father had already picked a merchant's daughter for him, one from New York, just like him, just like his father wanted.

Tonight, he could spend naked in your arms, snuggled in the warm sheets of his bed, listening to his heartbeat while his long fingers combed through your hair.

"The sky was falling," you said as his heat cock finally came out, weary, clogged, and squeezed all the air out of your lungs. The palm of his hand lingered warmly on your exposed breasts, like a boy's toy.

Your hair is wet, and so is his. You look at the mess on the bedsheet, it's like a war, so criminally. Unless, of course Stephen's sharp smile, the top of his chest breaths heavily, and the bottom is buried beneath his blanket, but you pull out it to cover yourself so you can glimpse his entire body again. "And I'm falling for you, amour."

It was a quiet night. He'd snuck you into one of his smaller homes, where no servants could spy on you two. You had a glass of dry red wine and a baguette with camembert and red grapes. It was a basic dish by his standards, but it was everything the two of you could have desired for dinner tonight.

You had been kept busy by the continual repairs of Moulin Rouge costumes, as well as other work sent to you by higher and middle-class women, in the heart of balmy summer, with the sun shining down in all its splendor, warming you up and making all proper ladies sweat under their garments. You made no complaint. It was good job, and there was always additional money, which you could never have enough of.

Stephen did all the whining for you, about how you didn't have time for him, about how he felt neglected, about how you were too gorgeous to spend the days in a workroom instead of on the garden outside, enjoying in the sun and definitely keeping him company.

Finally, your work was completed, and you decided to take the day off, and now, at the end of the day spent in his arms, you were falling asleep in his arms, his gentle breathing feeling like a summer breeze in your hair, and his golden skin was warm on yours. Because of your body heat and the warm night, you couldn't sleep beneath a blanket, so you slept on a light linen sheet.

"Mon plus cher amour," he said into the air, that’s the way he called; "my dearest love." And you had responded to his call through the thin veil of sleep, turning in his arms to face him, your lips brushing against his as he spoke, the delicate touch sending thrills down Stephen's spine.

"Mon cherrie?" You'd wondered, laying a sly kiss on his pouty lips.

"I cannot imagine living without you." He engaged, his eyes staring into yours with such affection that you wondered if a mortal man could be filled with so much love. Such deep feeling was surely destined for something more holy than you; for ladies whose beauty lived on in legend, a kind of beauty caught by poems, songs, and prayers. Not you, mortal, frail, and average.

"Don't say such things." You murmured softly, your tone echoing Stephen's love in his gaze. His breath caught, and you could feel his heart rattling against your chest, its steady beat matching the pace of your own. "They make me fall in love with you even more." Your lover grinned at your comments, his long fingers reaching to gently hold your hand before bringing it to his lips, kissing your knuckles delicately, his lips smooth like rosebuds, flushed a deep pink as blood flowed through him, red and strong. His aquatic eyes never left yours for a second.

Hopelessly, you loved him so badly, too.

The days passed without him, and eventually, after all work was finished, Stephen decided to take you to the premiere of the new cabaret show, the one you had spent months sewing costumes for, and now he would allow you the pleasure of seeing the fruit of your labors, and you had a feeling it would be sweet.

Tonight, he had taken you to the cabaret. The moulin rouge was full with patrons, their cacophonous banter before the show was like the beginning of a birdsong, someplace deep in the rainforest, their words, not always French, rang throughout the room like a flock of tropical songbirds, unorganized but cheerful. You sat at a table for two, he in a magnificent black suit, you in your best dress, your hair done up in a stylish style you had seen many of your clients wear. When you looked in the mirror before leaving the house, you couldn't believe the lady in the reflection was you. You wondered if he had always thought you were beautiful.

"You are lovely to look at. Never forget that, mon amour." He leaned in to whisper into your ears, the dim light shimmering golden against his skin, making the shape of his nose and the plushness of his lips even more refined, even more seductive. Your heart skipped a beat despite your will. As the dancers entered the stage, the flock fell silent, leaving only the melody of the orchestra. Stephen relaxed in his chair, entirely at ease, sipping champagne.

The show was spectacular, but no one expected less from the legendary Moulin Rouge. The dancers glided around the stage in perfect synchronicity. Even their most frantic routines were carried out with beauty and precision. others gowns were shorter than others, and others were more scandalous. You hadn't skimped on the feathers and sequins. Each costume was meticulously fitted, with every thread perfectly in place and every color carefully chosen.

"Something like this would never be tolerated where I come from." Stephen whispered in your ear. Even without looking at him, you could tell that his gaze was drawn to the dancers and his lips formed a sneer against your ears. You knew he wasn't talking about the cabaret. "I'm glad it's allowed here." When you didn't react, he whispered, and you felt a delightful chill down your spine.

"They look gorgeous." Instead, you stated that your gaze never leaves the stage. The dancers span, their skirts swirling with them, exposing more of their legs, and the audience couldn't stop gasping.

He questioned as he took another sip from his flute. "The dancers?"

"Pretty women look good in pretty clothing." When another round of cacophonous delight rippled through the audience, you responded with a nod, a smile on your lips.

"Are those your dresses?" Stephen smiled, his eyes twinkling as he examined the colorful outfits, feather plumes, and embroidery on the bodices and skirts.

“Oui.” You sipped your drink, allowing the buzz of alcohol to enhance your enjoyment of the evening. "What's the point of staring at me?" After a while, you said, the feeling of Stephen's deep ocean eyesight staring at you becoming uncomfortable as the night progressed, your second flute of champagne now standing empty in front of you.

"I can't stop myself. You are like the moon." He smiled, turning his head to look at you from a fresh perspective. "So attracting me." He spoke, and his hand moved across the table to grip yours, his long fingers weaving through yours.

You stayed like that till the end of the show.

When the night was done and he had draped your coat over your shoulders like a gentleman, a cheeky smile graced his lips, his eyes bright with mischief.

"We went to the pleasure palace, and yet my greatest pleasure was watching you." He told you, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, savoring the crimson that warmed your cheeks, both from the champagne and from him.

Another week passed, and you were again in his chambers, laying among the lovely covers, holding a book as Stephen dressed. He was dressed in a suit identical to the one he wore to Moulin Rouge, but he had changed the jacket to something more suited for dinner. You liked his straight brows and heavy lashes as you combed his hair back away from his face.

"How do you think I look?" He approached, tying his black bowtie in front of the mirror above his dresser.

Looking at his tiny figure over your book, you told him. "Handsome as always." You said that when he turned around and winked at him. "You will be fine, Monsieur Strange."

"Whatever you want to say, Mademoiselle." He smiled as he walked over to the bed and knelt down. His plush lips were on yours in an instant, and you melted into the kiss.

When he turned to slide into his jacket, he looked back at you, his eyes filled with concern. You could tell he was tense by the clench of his jaw and the strain in his shoulders.

"Enjoy yourself." You smiled at him, attempting to cheer him up. Whatever was on his thoughts was weighing heavily on him. Enough to make him wary of telling you about it. It was a rare occurrence.

"It's just another business meeting; I'm recommending teapot purchases." He muttered, presumably to himself, and you sprang from the bed, wrapping your arms around his torso and staring into his eyes. Their maritime blue reminded you of hot coffee and chocolate in the morning. "New York ceramics have grown in popularity among those who can afford to import them." He spoke, his arms wrapping over your shoulders. Stephen buried his face in your hair, and you gave him a minute of silence. He pressed you against him, and you listened to his heartbeat, sure and steady like him.

"Selling a lot of teapots, then, mon cherie." You told him, and he let you go with one more farewell kiss.

"Don't worry about missing me too much, mon plus cher amour." He called out as he walked out of the room, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched him go.

Sadly, you do.

The dinner was drab. The hosts were rich, as they always were, and they loved to gossip, as they always did. Normally, Stephen avoided the ladies' gossip, preferring to sit and drink whiskey with the males, but tonight he found himself in the center of it. Not because he was really interested, but because he was the topic of it.

Many guys stood around the room conversing, and some women avoided the host's wife, who was a nasty gossip who could run her mouth like no other. Unfortunately, Stephen was on his way to meet his business partner, Monsieur Holmes from England, when he overheard the conversation.

The guests sat on luxurious sofas, with a tiny wooden mahogany coffee table in the center, containing a lovely tea set, white porcelain with delicate lotus blossoms painted in red for adornment. Last summer, it was one of the models they carried. Surprisingly, it was not a high-end set.

"I heard he went to the cabaret with his mistress last week. I'm curious who she is." The harsh voice of one of the ladies pierced his eardrums. Stephen could tell she was one of your clientele based on her attire. In your shop window, a similar dress, however green rather than the caustic salmon color this woman was wearing, was shown. He could recognize your work from anywhere right now.

"There will be no high standing." Another woman interrupted him, and he wanted to stop listening. Morbid curiosity kept him quiet, listening to those women criticize you, his blood boiling under his skin.

"A Frenchwoman and a New Yorker. In public!" Stephen tried to stop himself from cursing after hearing the woman in salmon scream.

"How are you doing, ladies?" Instead, he put on a happy face and walked right into the women's chat, interrupting their gossip. "I heard you ordered two tea sets, Madame." He turned to gaze at an older woman sitting between the two who were chatting about you.

“Yes. My daughter is marrying into a good family, and I want to make sure she brings only the best to her new home." She had spoken, her nose turned almost comically high as she tried to gaze at him with contempt.

"I hope you will be pleased with the quality of our products." He had bowed lightly, a sickly-sweet smile lingering on his lips, as rage had no doubt poked through his eyes. When you glanced into his eyes, you stated you could tell he was upset. He would have spoken more, but Shrr had come to his rescue, his cheerful attitude brightening the mood of the women.

"Ah, Monsieur Strange, I was looking for you." He talked, his rich voice filled with joy as he tried to pull Stephen away.

He pushed him to the side and handed the shorter man a tumbler of scotch. Sherlock's massive body towered over him, hiding him from the gossips' gaze. His huge hand reached out and squeezed Stephen's shoulder in reassurance.

"Young men are young men regardless of where they come from." Do not listen to old rumor." Sherlock's powerful voice slowed to a mumble, and Stephen assumed his companion was growling rather than speaking.

"Thank you, Sherlock." He mumbled, gulping the scotch down, too frustrated to taste it. He found the burn of alcohol to be a pleasant distraction.

"Better to love one woman than to hate one woman." When his pal looked down on him, his teal eyes were soft.

Stephen asked shifting the conversation from one unpleasant issue to another. "Any news from my father?"

“None yet. I’m not sure he even knows about her.” Sherlock reassured him, a small smile playing on his lips. He sipped on his scotch.

"If he knew," Stephen said, his heart pounding wildly against his chest, making him dizzy, before Sherlock cut him off.

"You'd have been on a ship back by now, and that merchant's daughter would have been waiting for you at the docks." He finished for him, gulping down the rest of his scotch before proceeding to refill their glasses.Stephen received an increasing number of inquiries for imported pottery as the evening continued. Tea sets, plates, and bowls were among the items requested. By the end of the meal, his notebook was full of names and catalog numbers.

Stephen had removed his coat and unfastened his bowtie when he returned home. His white shirt had a few buttons undone, displaying his golden collarbone. He sat on his living room sofa, sipping more scotch from a crystal glass. When he arrived, you tossed the book and sat alongside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder. The fabric beneath you was velvet, far more expensive than you could possibly afford. You could see he had it built to order.

Stephen had remained silent other than greetings and a couple brief kisses. Despite the drink he consumed, the worry shown on his face had not subsided. From the corner of your eye, you noticed his jaw clenched and relaxed.

"Are you ready to tell me now?" You asked him, and he turned his chin towards you. His gaze was drawn to your lips first, then up into your eyes. He'd always assumed they were sapphires. Not because they were blue, but because they reminded him of the sea, deep and uncharted. They hid your heart, so they gleamed like valuable stones and reflected light like the tumultuous waters of the sea. Deep, so deep that he lost himself in them and found himself in them as well.

"I'm worried about my father." His heavenly voice broke, heavy with uncertainty, and he mumbled.

"We knew about your father from the start,” you told him as you pressed your palm against his cheek, allowing Stephen to sink into your contact and relish in how warm he felt against you. “We knew how this was going to end before it even started."

"What if I don't want this to come to an end?" He asked whether and you were the one to lose yourself in the depths of his irises this time.

You kissed him with your other hand on his cheek. Passionately and uninhibitedly. It didn't matter if the end was coming or if it was already here. You had feelings for him. You were hopelessly in love with him.

Stephen went violet when you touched him. He felt it seep into him when he pressed his lips to yours with bruising force, and again when you grabbed him in his bed, and again when you left purple marks over his collar bones, each one a visible stain on his body; something to remind him he was yours, something to remind you that you were his.

Days flew by in a blur of color. You awoke in his bed, went to work, and spent the evening at Moulin Rouge. Every night was spectacular; every night was the same. You had grown fond of Moulin Rouge. Stephen could sit by you in public and flaunt your devotion for him. In Montmartre, most people were preoccupied with the concept of liberty and freedom. You shared their hopes, that the world will be a better place to live one day. Both you and he fit in. It was simple to be at the Bastion of Pleasures.

After one of the shows, when you had finally returned home to recuperate, an unexpected guest appeared.

Sherlock had come in one evening, just as Stephen was falling asleep in your lap, your voice calming him. The British man had arrived with a letter. It was obvious that it was from Stephen's father. Because the characters were strange, you were illiterate and blissfully unaware of the contents.

"Not good." Stephen had risen from your lap and was pacing as he read over the letter. Sherlock had taken a seat near you, his form looming over you. You weren't bothered because you were used to being in his shadow, but the expressions on both men's faces made you nervous.

Sherlock told them. "He wants you to return by the end of the next year." His strong voice boomed through the room, and his loving brown eyes looked down at you, and then at Stephen, with such sadness that you couldn't tell who was more saddened by the news.

"I understand." Stephen paused his pacing and requested that one of his assistants bring them some cognac. "To one more year." When the vodka was poured into crystal glasses and delivered to the three of them, he toasted.

You raised your glass with a cheeky smile, toasting with him. Sherlock raised his glass reluctantly and witheredly, the amber liquid shimmering in the faint light, before taking a gulp.

You lay wrapped in Stephen's arms that night, a pleasant breeze blowing through the open window, drifting over your naked shoulders as you glanced up at your sweetheart.

"Let us leave. Just… Run away with me." Stephen mumbled, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of his room, more pensive than you had ever seen him.

"Is this? …New Americana proposal’s? Where’s my ring?" You commented, a broad smile on your face, as though pondering of the possibilities, soon, your shoulders jolted down. "Where shall we go?"

"Wherever my father won't find us." You pressed closer to him, further into the protection of his arms, as he aware you. “Italy?” You sought out, considering locations too far away for the Strange business to pursue you to.

“Britain? Erm-”

"French Indochina?" You kissed his forehead, with an awkward smile on your lips.

"I don't care… literally. Where we go; my heart goes to loving you everywhere." He spoke softly, and you knew he loved you now more than ever.

Stephen was ready to leave everything to be with you, where his father could not intervene, and you were ready to leave with him, you knew you would; for anything even your cabaret flora life here; for one condition… just be with him.

"Then let's go anywhere." You gave in, putting a kiss to his lips and whispering love words into his ears as he held you. He whispered them back, breathed love into you with his kisses, was firm and soothing alongside you, and despite the frost in the air, you were warm.

His lengthy fingers knead over yours, enveloping them. You know he staked his entire future on it. You are mindful of this. "Whether it's an ice-covered world or warfare, I'll be the one that burns it." Your lips curled together, his words so sincere, and his rich tone melt with every emotion you've ever beheld. "Like frost and flame; hot and cold both evaporated."

You draw stars on his chest, another one, another one… Attentively paying attention to his heartbeat. The galactic cosmos feels incredibly near whenever you're with him, your Monsieur Strange, yours.

"Trust me?"

"Always have."

Love was occasionally hopeless, but maybe this time, just this time, there was hope.

And this is hope that you want would be go on survived.

For everlasting.

a/t: how was it 🥹 idk why but the plot comes while i listen this so bitter, tortured but sweetener so it’s challenging me to write 1920’ era. Well… in fact, the forbidden love is my first time writing… so erm yk what i mean? just please give love to it bc Monsieur Strange is watching you 😂🥹🤭 the core of this story is foreign man who has love affair with the owner of cabaret and he bet everything on it to stay with his heart, so fucking romantic yeah? this side is so rare to see from Stephen x reader ff and that’s why, so sorry to bring him out of character again bc it’s not my first time actually HAHAHAHAHA xD well next story we will see new youtuber Stephen who open YouTube channel so bright the boredom of quarantine by corona, he’s doctor right? let’s go romantic comedy yahooooo

#multiverse of madness #doctor strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange one shot #stephen strange one shot #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #dr strange smut #mcu x reader #doctor stephen strange #benedict cumberbatch #imeternallylove

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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

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The Fulton Project

Description: The knowledge of an FBI operation gone wrong has the world as the BAU knows it turning on it’s head. How does something like this end after months of civil unrest?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader (but honestly the relationship aspect comes like 3rd in levels of importance to this story lol)

Warnings: violence, non-graphic major character deaths (2), implications of suicide, ANGST, (kind of an unreliable narrator, but in an im-traumatized-and-not-thinking-straight way)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: this is me speedrunning a ya dystopian novel to be honest. i wrote it all at like 1am after watching the entire hunger games series lollll

We were gathered around my desk one morning, everything feeling so normal that day. I wish I’d have known then that I wouldn’t get to experience it again. I would have appreciated it more.

“I don’t know. Strauss has been acting super weird. Like she knows something we don’t,“ JJ stated, leaning against my desk.

“What’s new?” Morgan asked with a snort.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s like she’s afraid of something. I don’t get it. She never acts scared of anything.”

I sat with that sentiment for a moment.

“Has anyone asked her?” I inquired. “I know we don’t like to talk to her if we can help it, but if this is serious—“

“I don’t think she’d admit anything,” JJ responded.

“Maybe Pen can dig something up,” I said, just as Hotch strolled in.

“Dig something up on what?” he asked.

“Strauss,” Morgan said curtly. “JJ said she’s been acting all weird lately.”

“Is that new?” he said, giving his barely-there smile.

“That’s what I said!” Morgan yelled out, going back to his own desk.

JJ mentioned something about seeing Penelope, and I watched as she dragged Emily with her. I started on my consultations for the day, and was only interrupted when Spence came up to my desk with a new mug of coffee.

I smiled, taking it from him.

“Thanks, love.”

“Of course. It looked like you needed a little energy boost,” he noted, watching me for a moment. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

I glanced up at him. “Where were you thinking?”

“That Thai place you love?”

I smiled. “That would be great.”

“Do you want to leave after work tonight, then?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

The day went on quickly, and finally getting to have a night that was just Spence and myself was a welcome reprieve from all of the casework we’d been doing. He always seemed to know how to lift my spirits, even when the world was upside down. He did his best, time and time again, to be there for me in whatever way possible.

We were asleep in his apartment when we got the early-morning call. Spence answered the phone, face dropping. I only heard a muffled, panicked rambling on the other end from Pen’s sweet voice. He assured her that the whole team would be there as soon as possible, then turned to me when he hung up.

“Garcia found something big. We’ve gotta get to work.”

We rushed over. I drove as Spence contacted the rest of the team. He immediately went to meet her in the conference room as I double-checked that nobody else was in the bullpen. When I was sure, I started up the stairs and towards the conference room.

“Here,” Penelope’s voice said, quietly as I neared the doorway.

I walked into the room, seeing her look like she’d just seen a ghost. She gave me a quick glance, then excused herself from the room.

“Is she okay?” I asked Spencer.

He only shrugged, unsure. Everyone else filed in within the next couple of minutes. He looked over everything Penelope had given him, sorting through all of the things that were worth reading for the rest of us to see. He only slowed his roll when he started nearing the end.

“I think I found something,” he said.

Prentiss sat up straight. “What is it?”

“It’s called the Fulton Project,” Spencer said, scanning over the rest of the file. “I don’t think this is what it seems.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, pretty boy?” Derek asked, half a smirk on his face.

Spencer wasn’t smiling, and it seemed that Penelope’s exit from the room made much more sense now.

“This is… How did we get this file, again?”

I stood from my seat, circling around behind him.

“Penelope found it. It used to be encrypted, but the last time it was opened someone got awfully irresponsible. She found a way in,” Prentiss said, looking across the table.

I scanned it as she told him, horror building.

“I thought the CIA was the one that did stuff like this,” I whispered finally.

They all gathered around to see what I meant, each person’s attitude turning sour the further down the page they got. However accidentally, we’d uncovered something huge. An entire operation dedicated to not only “silencing” agents, but civilians as well. It was like some sort of twisted men in black for governmental secrets. And it didn’t end there. The torture methods described in order to brainwash people or garner information were on par, and even worse, than the unsubs we hunted down every day.

“What do we do?” I asked.

Instinctively, everyone turned to Hotch. He looked at each of us for a few moments before answering.

“We take it down.”

We went for a few weeks, uncovering as much as we could under the radar. More information than I ever wanted to know came to light, but we had to make a really solid case before we could bring it to a court. It turns out there was more corruption that we’d thought possible after the first file we had seen. Framings and assassinations and brainwashing and making people disappear. It was all too much. Then, Hotch had an idea to light a fire under the bellies of those involved.

I took a deep breath as I stepped up on the podium. Reporters stared me down, all scrambling to get close.

“Good evening,” I began, trying to tune out everything but my own voice. “We’ve— I’ve prepared a statement on the events that occurred today, and over the past few years, really. After an inside investigation, we have reason to believe that the Fulton Project, headed up by Richard Jones, Mark Stein, and Amelia Sanchez has been an elaborate cover-up for operations within the FBI that we as a unit do not stand for. However, these are only allegations, so please let that reflect on the record. We will keep you all updated as we learn more.”

A million questions started being thrown my way, but I felt Hotch take my arm and guide me back off the podium. He started walking me into the building.

“Good. That was good,” he noted quietly. “The sooner this gets out, the more likely it is that we’ll be able to take them down.”

I breathed deep as we stepped into the elevator.

“Are you sure this was the right move? You and I both know this likely runs deeper than the FBI.”

“It’s going to work out just fine,” he said, not glancing in my direction. “After today, everything is going to change.”

I was told that me going on the news to release that statement would be fine. Hotch reassured me that nothing bad would happen. He told me it was the right thing to do. He told me that speaking the names wasn’t defamatory because we weren’t actually accusing them of anything. It was a huge move, and I knew that.

I didn’t know it would change everything.

I sat in the bullpen at my desk when we got back in the building. Everyone left eventually, leaving me, my thoughts, and the imaginary paperwork I told everyone I had to do. I really just needed time to think. Unfortunately, my time for thinking was cut short.

My personal cell rang, an unknown number on the screen. I wasn’t usually one to pick up for unknown callers, but something in me compelled me to this time.

“Hello?” I greeted.

“Do you know who I am?”

The voice was familiar, though I couldn’t place it.

“I don’t.”

A sigh came from the other end.

“You’re nothing but a parasite in this organization. Ruining everything with a stupid press conference, and you don’t even know my name?”

I paused. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be. Live television isn’t the place to expose secrets, my dear, and yet you did it anyways.”

“I didn’t mean to—“

“People are asking questions. You let it all loose, and tomorrow news stations across the country are going to be putting up your name and your image as the person who caused all of this.”

I was silent, trying to process all of this. It was one slip, how could it possibly put me in the line of fire like this?

“Watch your back.”

The line went dead after that.

I left the bureau and went to Spencer’s in a panic. I knew I wasn’t safe at work anymore, and frankly I was shocked I could leave at all. On the way to his place, I tried calling Hotch, but the line was dead. I ended up at the door of Spencer’s apartment, waiting with shaky hands. He opened the door with a smile that faded fast.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Can I come in?”

He nodded, shutting the door behind me as I entered.

“Lock it,” I instructed.

He listened, following me in confusion as I shut his curtains.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m not safe.”

He stopped me from pacing around the room, holding my face in his hands.

“Why not?”

I held onto his wrists, breathing in deep.

“I think—“ I swallowed, unsure if I could finish the statement.

He furrowed his brow, as he always did.

“What?”

“They know that we know. I didn’t mean to, but it’s all being taken down, now.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to get any clear answer from me.

“I think Hotch was using me. He knew this whole time that the higher-ups were corrupted and let me be the one who’s face is plastered on it all coming out. It’s only getting worse now that the secret isn’t contained to the bureau. The whole country is going to know.”

He swallowed, the usual color in his cheeks drained.

“Hotch wouldn’t do that.”

“He would if it meant protecting Jack. He shut off his phone, Spence. He would let me take the fall to protect his son.”

“No.”

I nodded. “He would. He would, and you know that. He could rationalize it by telling himself he wasn’t directly harming me, but he knew what would happen.”

Spencer shook his head, tears in his eyes. I took his hand, trying to give him any semblance of comfort.

“What do we do?” he asked, voice small.

“We’re not doing anything. You’re going to help the team finish what we started.”

“And you?”

“They’re coming for me, but I refuse to let them find me without a fight.”

“Let me come with.”

“No.”

“Please. You can’t do this alone. We stand a chance against them, we can take them down.”

I sighed. “You’re better off trying to do that here. Use that big brain of yours. There’s always a flaw in these systems, especially when the motives for keeping them in place are all wrong. You know that.”

��The team can do it without me. I need to be there with you.”

I sighed hard, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. “Fine.”

We worked for months. All of our meetings had to be completely concealed once I went into hiding. The team and I knew better than anyone the lengths they would take to find me and have me destroyed. My image was the one attached to all of this, and now the general public saw me as the sole reason for the secrets getting out.

Against my better wishes, Spencer came with me. We were holed up in Tennessee somewhere, completely cut off from practically everyone. The only person who really knew where we were was Penelope, strictly for the fact that she was the one in charge of communication. That was something else that happened completely against my wishes, but she kept us updated. Hotchner had long-since escaped somewhere with Jack, thus escaping from the inevitable guilt that came with forcing me into a role I never wanted or asked for. I knew that one day, whether I succeeded or not, he’d have to live with himself. That kept me from wishing worse for him.

The others stuck together. Though, having worked for the government, they all had massive targets on their backs. They had to stay off the grid as much as they could. Their only true communications were through Penelope, and the main destination was me. Until, eventually, they stopped communication altogether. According to Pen, they’d found a way to be safe. She wouldn’t tell me any more than that, but if what it took for them to be safe was no longer associating with me, it was worth it.

Unrest continued to build as the general public realized more and more what had been happening within our country. Right under our noses. I worried at first that we would be too complacent to fight against it all, but was quickly proven wrong. My initial exposure of the corruption had inspired a sense of conflict that I would never have expected.

I supposed it helped that the FBI directors immediately tried to kill me. They put me on top of the “most wanted” list, and made it clear that they weren’t going to stop hunting me down. That certainly didn’t assure everyone that things were as fine as they had been led to believe. It was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was the attempt to put military on the streets. They didn’t count on everyone being against a governmental body in such a strong way. They definitely didn’t expect people to be willing to put themselves in the line of fire for freedom’s sake. But, after we released all of the documents that showed what they’d done, it only grew.

I sat in the safe house with Spencer as we watched footage of the destruction. I was used to seeing horrible things in front of my eyes daily. It’s what came with the job I once had. But this was different. It killed me to see innocent people giving their lives when I’d been the one to start it all unraveling. Spencer tried to be sympathetic, but I could see in his eyes that he was glad for it. I would even say he had a sense of excitement at the unrest in the states. It was a miracle for him. It was hell for me.

“I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” I said quietly, viewing nothing but destruction on the screen before me.

Spencer ripped his sights from it, looking at me instead. Now visibly less excited.

“This isn’t a bad thing, you know? Innocent people were being killed and framed for things they didn’t do, and even worse. It’s good that the secrets finally came out.”

“Innocent people are still dying, Spence.”

“But their deaths aren’t meaningless anymore. They’re fighting against evil.”

I fell silent. I knew he wasn’t getting it. He couldn’t get it, not really. He didn’t feel like he was the reason for all of this. He was used to being the hero, rarely thinking twice any time he gunned someone down. The years of seeing in black and white finally got to him, and now it altered his perception of the current state of the world as a whole. I still saw in tones of gray, and this entire debacle was one big sea of gray. There were no winners or losers, only people who were dying left and right for no real reason.

A ping on my computer alerted me of Penelope’s message, taking me out of my own head.

“Let’s check it out,” I said, not looking at Spencer.

I heard him follow behind me, watching as I clicked on the link from her and typed in the codes we’d agreed upon to view it. There were two messages.

One was typed out:

- Something is wrong. I don’t know what’s happening, but I think they’re coming for me. Now is the time. Don’t wait.

I froze, my stomach dropping.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked, his voice sounding horribly far away.

I clicked on the second message, an impending sense of doom in my gut. Something was horribly wrong. A video popped up, playing before I had a chance to click it. A familiar face showed on the screen, but it was the last face I wanted to see. Richard Jones.

“Good evening, doll. Your little friend is all done playing walkie-talkie.”

I watched in abject horror as he moved back to show Penelope strapped into a chair. Her usual bubbly, colorful self was in drab clothing. Her hair undone. Not an ounce of makeup on her face. The only color I saw was the pink tint on her nose and cheeks from all the crying she was doing. Those were the first things I noticed. The second was a gun aimed at her head.

“Turn yourself in. We’ll find the rest of your friends if you don’t. Let this be a message that we’re not afraid to wipe out every last one of you.”

The trigger was pulled, but my scream and the hands flying to my eyes still couldn’t shield me in time from hearing the shot or seeing red splattered over her body. I fell to the ground, sobbing in hard breaths that couldn’t be stopped. I felt Spencer’s hands try to comfort me or at least stop my crying, but it was all so far from me. I was outside of my body, looking down at myself in a mess on the ground. She deserved so much more than an early, terrifying death that could have been prevented.

The next thing I remember is waking up on the couch. I shot up, heavy breaths coming in at the dream that I quickly remembered was actually a memory. She was gone. And it was my fault. I couldn’t stop myself from acting anymore.

I got up, getting dressed quickly without waking Spencer. I gathered my things, and started packing them all up in a different room than the one he slept in. It didn’t stop him from coming in.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going. No one else is going to die because of me.”

“They’ll kill you.”

I was quiet as I packed the rest of my things. He physically got in my way when he realized I wasn’t going to quit.

“Stop.”

“Move, Spencer.”

He huffed a sigh, taking my arms as I tried to move around him again.

“Please, stop doing this. I don’t want to fight you.”

“Good, because this isn’t your fight to begin with. It’s mine. Pen said to stop waiting, and I’m not going to give up on her dying wish.”

He stomped out of the room, and I thought I was in the clear until he came back a minute later, completely dressed.

“If you’re leaving, I’m coming with.”

I shook my head. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

I pushed past him into the hallway.

“You need to stay safe, Spencer. You’re not safe with me.”

“I still love you, you know?” he called after me as I walked towards the door.

I froze, my eyes closing tightly. He walked up behind me.

“Do you still love me?”

I sighed. “You know I do. But things are different now.”

“It’s been months since you said it. The last time you did was two weeks, three days, and 8 hours from the time we first came here to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry.”

He grabbed my arm again, and I turned to face him reluctantly.

He furrowed his brow. “If you still love me, then please don’t make me stay here while you run off to die.”

“They might kill you, too, Spence.”

“I know.”

I swallowed, then nodded solemnly. He finished getting ready, and we were off less than an hour later. I didn’t know where to go, so I figured the easiest course of action would be to meet them where they were: DC. The only question that lingered in my mind is if they’d let me get that far before inevitably killing me off. Or worse.

We were traveling as quietly as possible until we got to Virginia. We decided to stay the night at an abandoned hotel, and the easiest way for me to get any peace of mind was turning on the news. Staying updated was the only thing getting me through anymore. There was no such thing as peace. Every day was a new form of hell, and it never ended. I longed for days that were as easy as chasing down serial killers.

I didn’t realize I had drifted off until I heard vehicles approaching. I looked out the window and down at the ground to see multiple cars pulling up quickly.

“Spence,” I whispered, running over to shake him awake. “They’re here. We need to go.”

His eyes shot open.

“What?”

“They found us. They found me, we need to leave.”

He sprung up, gathering his guns before checking out the same window I’d looked through.

“They’re surrounding us.”

I breathed heavily, my mind racing with a million possibilities. I ultimately settled on one.

“Follow me,” I said, running into the hall.

He chased after me blindly, and I let myself take a moment mentally to appreciate that he always trusted me. Hopefully that would carry him through. We burst into the stairwell, and I started racing up the steps. He questioned what I was doing, but ultimately decided to keep chasing after me. I found the door I was looking for, and stepped out onto the roof of the hotel. I turned to look at him as he scrunched up his face in confusion. He glanced around, only paying more attention once I neared the edge.

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed quietly, pulling me back.

I watched as the last of the men below entered the building. I took a moment to appreciate the breeze blowing against my warmed skin. I felt everything so much more in that moment. Then, I finally spoke.

“If I jump, you have a chance. They’ll find you here without me. You can say you pushed me, and they’ll let you live.”

He stared for a moment.

“It isn’t right. You can’t just— You can’t do that.”

“There’s worse fates, Spencer. Don’t tell me what’s right when we can’t ever know for sure the difference between right and wrong here. Not anymore.”

“I promised I’d never let anything happen to you. Please don’t make me watch it all be for nothing.”

I looked down at the ground. I was fairly certain that even if I survived the fall, something else would finish me off. Spencer would be safe.

He took my hand. “All of this for so long. We came here together, we stayed together, and for what? For you to die?”

“I can’t let them take me. You can survive. I can’t get away. I lit the fire, and you know that they’ll want to do much worse than kill me for that.”

“Please.”

I shook my head, hearing the voices grow closer as they came up the stairwell. All of these months felt like years. The betrayal from a close friend. Seeing Penelope die because of it. It was like a thousand lifetimes crammed into one. I couldn’t let Spencer be the next on the list who was harmed because of me. My mind was made up. This was the only way he could get out.

“I love you, Spence. But I refuse to let you burn with me.”

He stared, though whether his eyes were filled with horror or emptiness I’m still not sure. All I know is that I fell, and that it didn’t feel like I thought it would.

It felt like peace at last.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds reader insert #spencer reid reader insert #criminal minds #luna’s spence fics

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thursdaysrain · 6 months ago

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im going to try posting here every day for . i dont know. a while. and see if i get a feel for it. just whatever off the cuff no editing

recently i watched adventure time front to back (having seen maybe 30% of it forever ago), and i feel kind of goofy for being one of those like 'woah this kid show is so deep and good' converts but there's just a lot of meat on those bones, i guess. it takes itself seriously thematically!

as always consuming very good fiction over such a dense period (i worked through like everything - 10 seasons, distant lands, and fionna and cake - within a few weeks) my brain is rewired and i feel bonkers.

unfortunately i have intense shipping urges but to my dismay (although not unexpected) it is not even one of the top ten ships on AO3 (63 out of 4k works). of course this aired during an era tumblr i'm not so familiar with but i know things were much darker on here 5-10 years ago for Problematic Fanwork.

finn/pb seems to be a radioactive ship. anything i see about it always has all these caveats or is like trying to thread the needle of not specifically being about a manipulative functionally-immortal queen grooming (in both connotations of the word, really) a young teenage boy to be Her knight. not to mention it loses out to pb/marceline, which is 1. gay 2. baited from early in the show and 3. ended up 'winning' and maybe most importantly, unfortunately, 4. is Not Problematic

dont get me wrong i like them together a lot. and i am very happy that it was canonized, or whatever. but there's just so much insanity inducing material w/ finn and princess bubblegum. the show regularly points out how fixated on her he is while also showing again and again how much of a possessive control freak pb is.

there's a lot that keeps running through my brain bc of AT, some things more interesting/useful than others (such as a specific perspective on like, disaster, time, and life going on despite everything that resonates strongly). but no i keep coming back to this weird thing. i blame my chldhood exposure to tenchi muyo for why i am the way i am. this is just my washu/tenchi thing all over again. that's literally what it is what the fuck

i dont think i could get into writing fanfic. im too obsessed w/ worldbuilding, like, over planning things, i cant just slap out a short story. maybe it's worth forcing myself sometime. the closest i ever got (except a couple pieces i wrote in elementary school and lots of fan chatroom RP) was i was planning for a 2hr renpy fanfic vn about manbagi from komi san (maybe my most rabid fixation on a character and a huge outlier) getting together with tadano. komi san kind of lost its momentum for me though, especially with manbagi rotated out of the main cast after her devastating (but inevitable) loss in the main ship war.

all this to say my only recourse is to rotate these cubes in my brain over and over until they shatter into countless pieces and leave their marks on my other works. there's a luxury a long running serial work has, and it's time to really ferment, and i regret i have no such luxury. i suppose that's another benefit of fanfic, though, being able to lean on that.

#adventure time #navel gazing #???

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saltyr3mix · 10 months ago

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Hey WTDW fandommmmmmmmmmmm i really hope you like angst cause this next fic im brewing up right now is

SO FULL OF IT.

Honestly might be one of the angstiest thing i've written for this fandom so far. and that's saying something when you look at......quite literally everything i've written.

but yeah! feel free to ask questions cause this is going to be fun! it may take me a while but that's because this fic is only 5 chapters but each chapter is kinda its own story until they tie in together all at the end. and each chapter is going to be between 4k-6k in word length. (Im only 3k into the first chapter) I really hope you guys like it because its kind of different from anything i've seen on ao3 so far. Here is a snip-it while you wait!

"He spotted some odd shape or birthmark on her left fist. He replaced the shirt with his finger for her to grab on to for him to get a better look.

Oh.

That’s why she was left on his doorstep.

There on her hand was a deep inky stain. A tragedy mark in the shape of a spade.

No wonder she wasn’t wanted. Many rumors spread about those with the tragedy marks. There were supposedly 4 of them. One for each house of cards. They were said to have been a curse to the world by the witch of suffering. Who had faced many trials, but no one ever believed in her pain. So, she made a prophecy of sorts that claimed that 4 chosen people with stains of the cards would be destined to the most tragic fates of all.

No one wanted this child because…..it was likely whatever sorrow and storm she brought her would affect them as-well.

But…not Eric. "

Do with this what you will! I thought i would just let ya'll know that even though i gave up on Shattered Dreams im not dead. and this is also the reason i didn't update TLFTT as soon as i quit SD.

(Although the next tlftt chapter is going to be a lot of fun with a few new characters- Uh i mean? what who said that?! new characters in my fic?! nooooo.....never......)

Yeah that's where i've been! Sorry i don't have any real updates but there you go!

#welcome to dreamworld #wtdw #salts stories #fic authors

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sn4pozu · 2 years ago

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how Richard Trager uses Instagram (yes, he would use Instagram):

this is Pre-Engine Rick because realistically post-engine Rick would have other things to worry about besides instagram

30 stories a day, from dawn till dawn again this man is addicted to the layout

doesn't use stickers because hes a grown man BUT HE DOES HAVE A BITMOJI THAT HE USES RELIGIOUSLY

its half office reels, half food pics, and a quarter just rants

overuses tags to hell, even randomly mid sentence , example: "#Amazing day today at @MurkoffOfficial ! this #Work ain't doin itself 📋💻👍🏻 #Workday #Monday #Officeday #ADayInMyLife #Job"

sometimes thinks that Murkoff should totally have a social media account, he knows its dumb but he cant help wanting more followers 😔

"Suns out guns out! #Sunday with my bud @JeremyBlaireOfficial" and its a picture of them in a golf cart holding champagne (not gay, just besties)

Not to sneak in my RickJer agenda but in my minds eye they signed eachothers golf clubs

tags the location if he could he would

username is something obnoxious like 'RichardTragerOfficial' like nobody know u lil bro 😭😭😭

buys likes and followers to feed his ego

4k followers thats like 85% bots

" @McDonaldsOffical Never fails 😂😂😂 #hangovermeal #NoRegrets" and its a fish fillet with the most inhuman bite you've ever seen taken out of it

WOULD POST A SWEATY GYM MAT AND TAG THE GYM AND IT'D HAVE A DUMB CAPTION LIKE "Workout Wednesdays! 🏋🏼‍♂️💪#Wednesday #Gym #Exercise #GymPic #Muscles" HE LACKS SELF AWARENESS DONT LAUGH

would 'ironically' comment "Hot! 🔥🔥🔥" on a mans gym pic and would slutshame a womans gym butt pic

"he hurts every woman hes ever met because his true soulmate is a man" - Sock-rates

he would unironically use hashtags in a sentence for fun, also urges Jer to be more active on Instagram

imagine the most white grown man, now add curly blonde hair, uhuh now give him a gay sweater, now make him homophobic & gay, yep .thats him officer

HAS gotten scammed on instagram, he threathened legal action and got his money back and deleted their account after a week tho

weekday streaks exist to him, no hes not a middle schooler hes actually 30

look at me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't make fun of feminism in the comments section of those LibzDunked accounts

his Close Friends stories are just aftermaths after nights out, its either him drunk posting or filming himself talking to the camera about his hangover

its just Jer and a few other friends but it has the same intimacy of homosexuality

theres one video where hes drunk and actually tripped and fell so comically its been 7 months and Jer still makes fun of him for it (laughs along but actually hates it like viscerally)

he has 3 phones, both iphones and one is a samsung flip (he wanted the hype), a work phone, home phone, and his normal phone, why does he need so much? why is he not robbed yet? we will never know....

replies to those awareness posts about war in the middle east and goes like "damn.. thats unfortunate 💔 hearts goes out to them 🙏 @Chriswalker89"

most menacing instagram white man, cyberbullies as a past time and has 5 alts just focused on Harrassment+ Stalking people

he'd doxx which hospital your mother is staying in with no shame

"If you don't take that back I'm injecting your mothers spine with brain eating parasites" and he means that for real

would post corny atheist memes & misinformation

induces paranoia as a hobby "Yes ma'am i am a licensed doctor vaccines Do cause autism" as a treat

he fucks around too much one day his main gets suspended and he calls Instagram customer services

if you wouldn't think he'd try to hook up with an instagram influencer you are a liar

weekly self-help book recommendations that he doesn't read and actually just gets payed 7$ per link

im not saying he would make an alt to just hype up his own photos but he would.....do that.....

also gets blackmailed his own dick pic but whatever that was in the past

on a side note Jeremy does have a year old instagram account that only has 2 pictures (both just bar pics of him posing with a glass of wine like an idiot) and his entire Tagged section is just RICHARD TAGGING HIM IN ANYTHING

#richard trager #outlast #outlast fandom #outlast whistleblower #jeremy blaire #they are homophobic and gay #the straightest gay people

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void-chara · 1 year ago

Text

almost forgot the due date for @simplepotatofarmer's 4k follower event was approaching so i speedran drawing doomsday trio mermaid au in 4 days, yippee! just in time for the end of mermay too woah. also i did not forget that the due date was may 31st i just forgot that time passed and the day was getting closer lol. i probably could have finished it in even less days but ive been busy taking care of the new puppy my family got so i havent had much time to draw because that creature needs constant supervision. anyway ignore the lack of faces i did not want to draw them. also just in general ignore how messy it is. i was trying to get it done, not make a masterpiece.

rambling about ideas below the readmore

SO honestly i dont have much in mind? ummm. just. doomsday trio. i NEED more doomsday trio stuff. maybe they are exploring or somnething? also i have a vague idea for phils backstory which is that before he met either of them he was some sort of sailor or something and somehow he met a deep sea goddess (kristin) and they were sooo inlove and then he died for some reason drowned probably and kristin was like nooooo dont do that :( and she revived him and made him a merman so he could stay with her yay! so he is alive now but he still kinda looks like a corpse lol. also the reason he is bigger than the other two is because mermaids grow throughout their whole life(tho more slowly as they get older) and he is like immortal or something as a result of kristins meddling. im not even really That much of a philza enjoyer idk why hes the only one i have a backstory for it just came to me in a vision.no need to include any of the phil backstory in the fic i just thought it was fun. anyway uummmm. Yeah! they are having a time just hangin out and vibing. do whatever u want for the story really

edit: OH i also wanted to mentionthat i didnt plan for dreams tail to look so much like ariel from the little mermaid But after noticing it i really like it! he is sooo disney princess. also the little mermaid was one of my earliest fixations and mcyt stuff is one of my latest so thats fun. anyway yeah the colors are like exactly the same as ariels tail and it wasnt intentional but i like it

#hey loyal write this #mcyt #ph1lza #technoblade #dreamwastaken #doomsday trio #dream smp #...i forgot to put my art tag on this #well. better months afterwards than never.#chara makes things

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cheolhub · 2 years ago

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NO CAUSE IM SUCH A SUCKER FOR WHEN THEY'RE MEAN

but imagine the aftermath, like you would not know how to fucking act after that and it throws you off your game and he wins the next race and !!!

you're so mad. you're so angry he got to your head that much. and he's so fucking smug about it. but of course, it can only go one way at this point, and at the end of the day you end up in his bed again bc what else are you even supposed to do?

AND HE'D BE SO MEAN ABT IT, all "can't believe you're here begging for my cock again. shouldn't you be out training? or are you just that much of a cockhungry slut?"

and it continues like that. it doesn't even matter who wins or who loses anymore, bc the outcome is the same anyways - you crying on his cock, you on your knees for him, you taking whatever he wants to give you. and you know that if this came out it could ruin your career, but you just can't stop.

(okay but spinning off of that earlier ask. what if you're in a crash, maybe it's one if the last races of the season, and he's THE FIRST ONE THERE bc holy shit he got so worried. like he always worries when someone crashes bc this shit is dangerous, but it's different now, and he doesn't quite want to think about what it means yet. (he's a little less mean the next time, not bc he's gotten soft or anything, he swears)) - ☁️

UR SUCH A FUCKING MENACE LIKE IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT. it’s 1 am so that means this is going to be hot shit (the bad kind 😹) ok but seriously if i dont make sense or it reads bad, im so sorry, ive written like 4k words today and my brains fuzzy

wonwoo is so cruel. he’s so fucking cruel. he’s insulting you while fucking you stupid, rambling on and on about how you’re always crawling back into his bed like a shameless loser. about how you have no self-respect whatsoever. about how you should be out training even though you’re going to lose again. and again. and again.

and you’re just taking it because, fuck him, but he makes you feel so good. he bullies his cock into you and makes you cum countless times and it’s just too fucking good. you’re in this toxic… relationship? would you even call it that? you’re in this toxic situationship and you have no idea how to get out of it… or if you even want out of it.

and, cloudnon, you’re 100% right. it doesn’t matter who wins or loses.

if he wins, he’s fucking you as if he were some type of god with the cockiest smirk on his face. if you wanna cum, you have to beg and tell him how much of a loser you are. (woah humiliation kink popped out again my bad)

if you win, he’d be so fucking pissed. so so angry and he’s taking it out on you, immediately adjusting that cocky attitude of yours. makes you cum over and over till your just in tears babbling his name and incoherent pleas.

no matter what, he’s always going to have you begging for more bc you’re just his a pretty, cockhungry slut.

[oh my god i alrdy know that didnt make any fucking sense, BUT WAIT BC UR LIL SPIN OFF THING IS KINDA CUTE ☺️ ill start with a poorly written post-crash bed scene]

you’re fine. you’ve told him several times, but he keeps asking and it’s starting to get on your nerves. but, like, it’s also starting to freak you out a bit. he hasn’t said anything mean to you and the way he handles you is kind of… soft? something you’re not used to at all when you’re under him like this

he’s still a bit freaked out if he’s being honest. you could’ve been really hurt… and it’s morbid… but you could’ve fucking died and he doesnt think he’d be able to stand it if anything really bad happened to you.

he has no idea what he’s feeling right now. he doesn’t want to know. god forbid he have a crush on the his top competitor and god forbid you don’t feel the same way.

you grow impatient with his gentle touches bc you’re dying to have him manhandle you like he usually does, so you sigh out. “wonwoo, told you i’m fine. just a few cuts and bruises. stop worrying so much. you won’t break me.”

he looks at you nervously and your heart squeezes a bit… he’s kinda cute when he’s not being a complete dick. “you sure?”

“i’m sure.”

“i’ll be nicer today,” he mutters, “y’know, since you obviously don’t know how to ride.”

there he is.

you smirk, “oh? why don’t you show me how then?”

he smirks, voice low when he says, “it’d be my pleasure.”

#[💌: ☁️]#aPLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR THIS #BUT I NEEDED TO REPLY #SERIOUSLY THO IM IN LOVE WITH UR BRAIN

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sorryimananti-romantic · 9 months ago

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should i start writing or not?

i literally get the craziest fic ideas almost daily and i have a whole page about plots and plots and MORE plots, so, naturally, id want to put them to use

BUT (there's always a but)

when it comes to me and words, you'd never catch me making it past the prologue 😭

i either really dislike my work (you can tell me how good/bad it is and im still going to scrap it, no one's changing my mind 😤), im just that bad at writing, i overcomplicate my sentences (cmon who wants to read shakespeare typa stuff), or i end up losing interest

i figured writing small imagines or wtv those tiny 2k-4k worded whatever-they-are stuff would work kinda well for me, but as someone who overthinks and second-guesses her every step in life... yeah 💀

idk i basically live off other peoples' opinions so after making you read allat for nothing, should i start processing these stored plots into words to form understandable sentences that may or may not be enjoyable depending on the person reading but then again who would click on something they dont wanna read innit?

haha that is literally the most relatable thing i've read today-- i was just the same before i started writing the first work of mine! and i'm not saying just for the heck of it but if you have all these ideas and plots... DO IT!!

bro my first few fics suck in my opinion and i wish i could rewrite them and post them again (i do not even want to look at them and i cannot comprehend why ppl like them) but ppl do like them! i think if you have good characters and good plots, it doesn't matter if your writing is bad bc writing is something that will get better the more you write, yeah? (and btw, that's you thinking your writing is bad. you could be the next shakespeare we never know LOL) (also my first work was take me home series and that says a lot about me bc my amateur ass went ahead and wrote the longest thing i've ever written 😭)

and me. i would read shakespearean style stuff if you have a good plot and characters. i would read a fic that uses the most common vocabulary if the plot is magical. there are people who will like your works and even if there is one of them, it means you're doing a good job!

i think you should start writing with whatever plot you want to write the most and just write it in your style. i live for crazy fic ideas and i cannot wait to see what you have in store! if your first work has to be a series, so be it! if it has to be a drabble, that's fine too! just do what you want to <3 good luck and i will be waiting for you to write sth and tag me <33

#it's always daunting but i cannot stress this enough: do what you want!#first few works will probably seem mid to you but writing and planning and details get better with time!#and writing should always be sth you do for fun #so just go with your flow <3 #yumi.asks

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poppy-metal · 4 years ago

Text

Demure

Wc: 4k

Pairing: eren jaeger x reader

Cw: car sex, fingering, emphasis on reader being innocent and a virgin. reader is armins little sister. corruption kink

you're 6 years old when you first meet eren jaeger. apparently he'd run off some people that were bullying you big brother, armin. you admire him and mikasa immediately.

you're 8 and he's 11 when you get a scrape on your knee from playing tag. eren runs into your mothers bathroom to fish out the first aid-kit, you know he just doesn't want you to tattle, you never would anyway, but he pulls out a pink band-aid with little ariels all over it and places it gently over the cut. he stays there for a few beats, soothing the skin around the hurt area with his thumbs. his big bright green eyes look up at you, "better?" and that's the first time your heart skips for a boy.

you're 11 and he's 14 when armin starts becoming protective. "he's had like. 5 girlfriends in middle school, who knows what he's gonna be like in high-school"

it intrigue you, for some reason.

you're 13 and he's 16 when he taps furiously on your window at night, wild eyed and wearing a t-shirt and sweats. he falls ungracefully on his ass when you let him in, though he grins at you from the floor. "thanks, squirt"

you wince at the nickname, knowing it solidifies you as someone only platonic to him. armins little sister and nothing more. "what's this all about?"

he gets up and swipes imaginary dust off his sweats, looking around your room. its absurdly girly. he picks up one of your plushies and tosses it up, then catches it, peering over at you and grinning. "i hope you never change," he sighs and flops down onto your pink sheets. "girls my age are fucking psychos"

you creep closer to him, snatching your plush back. "im sure there's something you're leaving out there. im not completely dumb, you know"

he waves his hand, "yeah but you're....i don't know? innocent or whatever. you don't care about shit like boys and drama"

i do care about boys, you think, watching the way his shirt rides up to expose a hint of tan skin. you look away, squeezing your plush to your chest. "im gonna grow up eventually, ren"

he sighs and sits up, looking at you from under his ridiculously cute floppy brown hair. "Just promise me you won't go boy crazy"

you roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he leans in and licks a broad stripe against your cheek with his tongue, grinning "we have cooties"

you swat at him and wipe your cheek, groaning and calling him gross. "i know that. you and armin never let me forget how gross boys are", you side eye him. "what did you even do? really?"

he looks to the side, only now having it in him to look the least bit sheepish, "my girlfriend may have caught me with my hand down historias skirt..."

"EREN JAEGER!!!"

yeah, boys really are gross. but not eren, no he's beautiful and magical and makes you feel all the fluttery things. but he's also a player, a bad boy, dangerous and completely off limits. maybe your crush should have ended there, but of course it didn't.

You're 15 when you go on your first date with a boy. until now you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about men outside of the enigma that is eren jaeger, but that’s a lost cause, a stupid crush you need to let go of. and despite what eren thinks, you’re not that innocent. not in your head anyway. you’re a girl and you have fantasies.

the guy is nice, armin likes him enough. big and tall and humble, reiner brought you flowers for your first date. the age difference is a little weird, he’s in erens grade, a senior, but you think its harmless. you’re turning 16 soon. the date goes well, you smile and giggle alot, and reiner seems smitten by the end of it. he even goes as far as to kiss your hand when he drops you back off at home, at 8pm sharp, just like he promised. he was kind and sweet, and you liked him, but you wonder what it means that there were no flutters in your belly, not like when you’re around him…

you’re still thinking about that when you open the door, and walk inside. the house is quiet, and you wonder where armin is, and eren. thinking they both must be in armins room, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping on your path there when you see eren on the couch. he’s lounging back, hand idly wrapped around a gaming controller as he watches you.

you glance around him. “where’s mimmin?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off you. “annie called��, he leans forward a little, propping his chin in his palm as he observes you quietly for a moment.

you squirm in place, his eyes are too hot. “oh” and you make to start moving again but his voice stops you.

“so. braun, huh?” his tone is hard to discern, the words coming out cool and detached, but his eyes are that intense green.

“yeah” you say, shifting on your feet. “he was nice. kissed my hand and everything”

“sounds like a dream” and that is definitely said sarcastically. you bristle but eren is already turning away from you, facing the TV. “didn’t think he was your type though”

because erens been your type since forever, you guess he’s right. reiner couldn’t be more different in both personality and looks, but maybe that’s a good thing. “maybe he can be” you say softly, looking at your feet. you dont see erens eyebrows jump, or his lips twist disdainfully.

“If you wanna settle for missionary the rest of your life, then sure, go ahead” he sounds a little miffed and that confuses you. makes you look up. you don’t even know reiner that well, but you feel the need to defend him from erens usual snarky jabs.

“not every guy that doesn’t live on Xbox and fuck half the school is a bland guy” you huff. you feel a little guilty for calling him out but he started it. eren hated preps, that was obvious, but its not like he was a model person either, if his long track record of promiscuity was anything to go by. reiner wasnt boring he just…..wasn’t eren. but that wasn’t a flaw. It shouldn’t be.

“you been keeping tabs on me, princess?” eren asks wryly, smirking now. you just glare at him, quirking a brow and daring him to prove you wrong, to say he’s better.

he doesn’t. he just looks at you, sets his controller down and does that tick he’d developed since he was young of jiggling his knee, tapping his finger on it. “don’t go on more dates with him”

you squint your eyes, “and why not?”

“because i said so”

“you’re not my boss”

“because..” he scratches the stubble on his jaw, gaze looking far off as he stares at his bouncing leg. “guys shouldn't touch you”

your mouth pops open. you get that, right now, you’re too young for stuff like sex, but being touched? everyone your age had boyfriends, why should you be any different?

It feels a bit like deja vu when you tell him, “m’not staying innocent forever. dating and s-sex are apart of life. you do it, why shouldn’t i?”

you didn’t really get his whole overprotective bit, armin, who was your brother, wasn’t even this bad. he’d seen happy almost, when you told him about your date with reiner, even, so you really don’t see where eren is coming from.

erens lip curls in a smirk and he points a finger at you. “that’s why” he says. “you can’t even say the word sex without stuttering. what’ll you do when you see a cock for the first time?”

your skin heats, hating that he’s right. “I’ll grow out of it” you promise him.

he huffs a laugh. “sure thing, dork” but then his face gets serious. “you don’t need to change though. sex is lame, i promise.”

“you seem to have alot of it, so there must be something good about it”

“for me, yeah” he grins. “but im selfish. most men are, and you deserve better than some highschool tumble with a guy who looks like he can’t find the clit to save his life” his eyes weigh you down. “just keep bein’ you. If i come back from college and hear that you’re the towns tramp stamp, m’ not gonna be happy”

and that’s that.

you’re 16 when eren leaves for college. you get to 18 without ever being touched.

you’re 18 and you wish you hadn’t begged armin to let you come to this stupid bomfire party. it’s just the first time he’s been home in the 2 years since he’d left for college, and you know that means eren is back too, though you have yet to see him. he’s supposed to be at the party though.

you wonder if he’ll react to having seen you after not for awhile, if he’ll look at you different now that you’re grown. you’re wearing a simple pleated white skirt and a pink top, the picture of innocence you’ve always been, never changing.

being around so many people makes you uncomfortable, you want to cling to armins side, but you don’t want to be annoying so you tell him its okay to leave you. your eyes scan the mass of people on the crowded beach as you nervously hold your solo cup to your chest.

your eyes stop their nervous skittering when they land on someone familiar.

college eren is completely different and yet wholly the same since you’d last seen him. he’s wearing a red bomber jacket, over a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, scuffed converse kicking in the sand as he shifts from one foot to the other. you peep tan skin, a hint of a tattoo peeking on his neck and….and black hair. he’d dyed his hair, and, is that jewelry on his ear? rings on his hand?

he’s smiling easily with a pretty blonde and...and reiner. talking to them like old friends as he tilts his head back and laughs, taking a swig from his cup. he’s still chuckling and shaking his head when his eyes flick distractedly over, rove over you and then stop. even from all the way where you are the green of his eyes pins you in place. the warm glow of the bonfire dances across his features, and you see the bastard has a lip ring as well. he takes his time cataloging you and you do him, before his lips tilt, he hands off his drink and he makes his way over to you.

your whole body is tense with nerves as he gets closer and closer.

when he’s standing in front of you, the smell of his cologne wafts over you. his smile is small and genuine. “hey, pip”

pip as in short for pipsqueak. you have to fight the urge to grin at him, your cheeks warming pleasantly, even though you groan out loud. “m’ not little anymore”

“I can see that” eren eyes rake over you, linger on your bare legs before dragging slowly back up. his eyes feel like a caress and when they meet yours again, you’re already tingly. you’ve never been touched sexually, and just one look from eren has you wet between the legs like nothing. “still dress like you wanna be an extra in a Bratz commercial”

the tension disputes as you swat his arm. “shut up!! Its a fashion choice, not like you’d know. dressed like a wannabe rockstar”

“aw, c’mon. you’d be my groupie right?”

you roll your eyes. “you wish, jaeger”

“mm” he hums softly. “s’cute though. always has been”

before you can even register the compliment, he’s leaning forward to peek into your cup, swiping it easily from you. “underage drinking, are we? left you for a couple years and you go rebel barbie on me”

you squawk as he chugs all of your drink back in one gulp, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. “ren! I wasn’t even drinking it. It was..” you wave your hand around. “for the aesthetic”

“uh huh” he drones, but then he jerks his chin. “i’ll get you another one to stand around and look pretty with then. C’mon”

cute, pretty. the compliments are gonna make your heart fly out of your chest if he doesn’t let up. you follow him as he leads you to a keg, one that’s a little ways away from the bustle of the party, close to the parking lot where you came in.

you shyly say ‘thank you’ when he fills you a cup and hands it to you, proceeding to lean back against a car as he goes back to observing you.

to distract yourself you mumble, “you can’t just lean on a strangers car for the sake of being cool”

the grin is back. “you think im cool?” when you glare at him he rolls his eyes and slaps the hood of the car. “she’s mine, pip. you can untwist your panties”

you blink at him, “since when did you get a new car? and when did you dye your hair?”

he looks at you curiously, drumming his fingers. “do you not, like. follow me on instagram?”

you look away, kicking your feet in the sand. hesitantly you admit, “didn’t wanna miss you, so i didn’t look”

he doesn’t say anything to that. the silence stretches between you, making you nervous. should you not have said that? you guessed it was weird, after all, but it was true. If you’d looked at how erens life was progressing without you there to see it, you’d have cried and been a total lovesick girl about it.

he finally breaks the silence. “do you have a boyfriend?”

you look back at him. “uh...no? do you?”

the smirk you wanted ghosts over his lips again, and your eyes are drawn to his lip ring when he tugs it between his teeth. “nah, you know me. unattainable”

“yeah, i know” you say under your breath, thinking of how eren jaeger had been an unattainable fantasy for you for years.

“so no current boyfriend or…?”

“no boyfriends...ever” its embarrassing to admit, but less humiliating than admitting that the reason that was is because you’re in love with your brothers best friend, the very man standing before you now.

“that’s kinda tragic, pip” eren hops up on the hood of his car and fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. he waves a hand at you, “you’re rockin’ a bod like that and no one’s bagged you? thought you’d be beating down options with a bat by now”

you watch the smoke that plumes in the air, the way it coils and wisps, and really look at eren. he’s tragically beautiful. his no black hair is boyishly messy, tangled around his head in a dark halo. his face is sharp and tan, his eyes striking and making you feel like you’re sinking into the sand beneath your feet.

you’ve wanted him for so long, it makes you ache. years and years of pushing away men and declining confessions for this man in front of you. you’d never expected anything from him, but you couldn’t move past the fantasy in your head. couldn’t imagine giving any of your firsts to anyone but eren.

“you told me to stay innocent” its out before you can stop the words, they just fumble out, spilling from your lips and into the air like the smoke.

eren stills, pauses from where he’d been about to take another drag. his expression is unreadable. he flicks the ashes from the cig on the sand, stumps it out under his foot as he hops down. the wind ruffles his dark hair as he just looks and looks and looks at you.

“yeah?” and oh, jesus, if the rough gravel in his voice doesn’t make your cunt warm immediately. “and you listened?”

you squeeze your thighs together, an action that draws erens gaze between your legs. to late to back down now, you think, and wet your lips. “y-yeah. I did”

“you didn’t let any boys touch you while i was gone?” eren continues and he draws closer, creeping towards you.

you shake your head, silent as he comes in front of you. he reaches up to delicately push a strand of hair behind you ear with one of his ring fingers. he keeps it tucked behind your ear as he towers over you, staring you down. “you’re still my innocent little girl, huh?”

you wonder if this is how it feels to be seduced, seduced by eren jaeger no less. his eyes are warm, and they make you feel warm from where the rest on your eyes, and then, your lips. they part under his gaze, on instinct. “I am, ren. always have been”

his eyes darken, and the finger behind your ear becomes his whole hand sliding to cup the back of your head, slowly fisitng your hair in it. “shit” he tilts your head up. “you can’t say things like that, baby”

baby, baby, baby. your head swims. you’re on autopilot now, speaking without thinking and you think that’s good because if you were thinking clearly you wouldn't have the courage. “i’ve always been your good girl. no one elses”

you have one second to hear his exhale before his lips are crashing against yours, and oh. oh, he’s good. you feel the metal of his lip ring against your bottom lip as he slides his tongue in your mouth, eating you up.

“god, you’re sweet” he nips your lip. “knew you would be”

you pant into his mouth, your hands curling on his chest, “y-you’ve thought about me?”

“‘course i did, im not blind” he pulls away. “I just really like my dick and didn’t want it chopped off. armin is scary”

you know he can be when he wants to be, knows if he saw eren ravishing his little sister against his car right now, body parts would be strewn about. and that’s just from armins verbal warfare.

you look at eren demurely from under your lashes, “i don’t want anything to happen to your…” you trail off at the end.

erens eyebrows climb up his forehead, he presses close to you, tugs you to him. “my…” he prods, eyes glinting with mischief.

you look away, pouting. “know i can’t say it” you mumble, hating that even now, saying vulgar words is embarrassing for you.

erens chest shakes with a laugh. “you just sucked my tongue down your throat, pip, and you can’t talk about my cock? you’re precious, c’mere.” he starts walking backwards, towards his car. “we gotta be sneaky about it but-” he dips down to kiss you again, once, twice. “i really wanna touch you”

you gulp, and nod, let him pull you to his car and open the backseat for you, climbing in after you. he shuts and locks it behind him and then he’s facing you, eren jaeger giving you his full attention. looking at you like he wants you, like he’s seeing you, like he wants to do alot of bad things to you.

you place a shaking hand on his shoulder. “im- i dont know what to do..”

you want to impress him, but pretending you’re good at something you’re not won’t do that. eren doesn’t like liars anyway.

he scoots close to you, pulling you halfway onto his lap until you’re sitting comfortably against him. you bite your lip when you feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your ass under your skirt. one of his hands settles on your bare thigh, scooting it up just barely.

“you ever watch porn, sweetheart?” erens breath puffs against your ear and you squirm on top of him.

you push down your own embarrassment, resigning yourself to be a big girl and be honest. “s-sometimes”

“yeah?” god, why does just that word turn you on so much? “tell me what kind of stuff you watch when you touch your little pussy”

his vulgar words go straight to your cunt, at the same time his hand slides up your thighs and slips under your skirt. you close your eyes when you feel the tip of his finger trace over the band of your panties. “they’re always a couple..” you gasp when his hand dips inside, palm cupping over your pussy. “a-and the guy has dark hair..”

“Imagining anyone in particular?” eren teases, but you hear his breath catch at the same time yours does when he sinks one long finger inside. the folds around your slit part seamlessly around the intrusion, sucking his finger in like your pussy wants it there. “so wet, baby. keep talking for me?”

ever the good girl, you push through the tingles and the heat spreading down your legs, the slick sound of his finger fucking in and out of you filling the silent car as you struggle to find words. “s-shes always inexperienced. Its her first time and...and hes gentle” you moan a little when erens thumb comes to swirl around your clit, hips lips finding your neck. he’s teasing another finger at your tight entrance when you swallow another groan and try to keep talking like he’d asked. “he’s gentle but he takes. t-takes what he wants”

“mm” eren hums, tongue sliding against your skin. you gasp when the tip of his ring finger edges in beside the other one, stretching your tight passage around his digits in thorough little twists of his fingers. “that’s real good, baby. you like the sound of that, huh?”

eren hooks his chin over your shoulder, bunches your skirt around your waist so he can see where your little pussy is clenching and squeezing around him, clit engorged and throbbing for attention. when you don’t answer, he continues, using the slick dripping down your slit, gathering it and then pushing back into you. “I bet” he says, low, husky. “In those videos, he eats her out real nice, yeah? makes sure her little virgin cunt is wet enough to take his cock”

“y-yeah” you pant, holding his wrist but not pulling it away, pushing him more towards you. you’re starting to grind down against the pleasure, walls rhythmically fluttering around his fingers, fucking yourself on them without even knowing it. he curls them, and your head thumps back against his shoulder as you cry out.

“i’ll give that to you” eren promises, pumping his fingers faster, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits over your blouse, giving it a squeeze. “gonna take you home after you cream around my fingers and lay you out on your bed” he kisses your cheek, holding you firm against him when you start to twitch and writhe. “lick this little flower open. wanna feel your thighs squeeze my face when i drink the cum from your pussy, get you all loose and wet and then i wanna feel you drip down my dick when i slide it inside”

“oh god, ren!” you jerk in his hold as you feel your orgasm crest over you, gushing down his palm, as you ride his hand, milking it as tingles shoot across your whole body. A milky, creamy film rests around his knuckles when he slides his fingers out of your weeping cunt, still pulsating and twitching from the come down.

he rubs the excess slick around your folds and clit, rubbing it in. you whimper and he chuckles and kisses your cheek.

you sag against him, fucked out. eren brushes some hair from your forehead and kisses it. “wannabe punk pounds sweet virgin pussy into her bed”

you look at him, confused and dazed “huh?”

eren grins at you. “s’ gonna be the name of our porno”

#poppy speaks #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #i hate this kinda but oh well #woof #eren jaeger imagine

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