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snipersfucker · 1 year ago

Note

An apology, but we all want to read how they are inside and possibly the Autobots lose control when what they have been imagining for so long happens (like Mirage / Bee / or Optimus) you made us addicted to you writing

there are special little places where yall can get help with your addiction!! im not the remedy!! (i bite the walls every single time i get a compliment) ALSO lets just pretend bees vocal cords werent ripped out to the point he couldn't moan like a slut :) dubcon:/

Bee was desperate.

The way your hips swayed when you walked, the way the soft tone of your voice echoed in the insides of his helm, the way you'd wrap your fragile fingers around his steering wheel and squeeze it ever so slightly in a playful manner—he needed you.

And one day, after spending countless nights on imagining you stretched out on his throbbing spike, your tits bouncing with every slap of his hips against your bare ass, he finally got the honour of actually seeing you underneath him, not just picturing it in his mind.

Bee was desperate for you, but he was also shy. Which meant that you had to initiate all the talks, all the touches, and all the kisses. However, when he finally understood that he had you exactly where he wanted you, and when he heard you vocalise your desire for him, he just couldn't stop himself.

The soft exchange of pecks on each others' lips turned into a heated make-out session, his glossa quickly asking for permission to slip into your mouth just so he could get a proper taste for the first time. His metal body began overheating as soon as he felt your body straddling his lap, your legs on both side of his hips. Your bold move made him only crave more of your touch, him barely able to restrain himself from just having his way with you, manhandling you until you'd beg for him to stop absolutely ruining you for the pleasure of you both.

And he wanted to continue making a mess with his lips on yours, especially when you were making so many sweet noises just for him... But he had to take things further, feeling like his spark might just explode if he didn't.

So he pulled away slowly, making eye contact with you for just a mere second, only to see the needy expression on your face, which gave him a silent permission to jump right into what he'd planned to do. His lips quickly found their place on the side of your neck, his servos landing on your hips, subconsciously pushing your core into his abdomen to create more friction between you.

He began licking, kissing, nibbling, and sucking the skin gently into his intake to create pretty bruises on your neck which would show anyone that you belonged to him.

Your breaths were getting heavier, much more chaotic, them hitching in your throat every time he paid special attention to a particularly sensitive spot. Your needy whimpers were mixing with the sound of his vents trying to stop him from overheating, his reaction to you making you want more of him than you already had.

And you didn't know you already had him whole. He was yours.

"Bee, please..." you whined, your eyes closed shut, hands on both of his shoulders with a strong grip which he didn't mind at all.

Your words made him transform the area under his abdomen, now a hard spike on full display, its length slapping against your stomach with every intense throb. He didn't stop taking care of your neck for even a second, every whimper and groan of desperation being muffled by your skin as he continuously planted wet kisses all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

He was growing impatient.

His spike touching you was sending constant pleasurable electric shocks down his bipedalism cord, his spark nearly exploding when you grinded against it with your clothed core.

The grip of his digits on your hips tightened, and you'd probably have endless bruises on your sweet, soft skin tomorrow, and this thought should've made him feel at least a tad bad but he adored knowing that he left something while doing such sinful things with you.

When you moved and brushed against his length again, he groaned in impatience, pulling away just to lift the hem of your loose shirt with his digit to signal to you that he needed it off. You made eye contact with him as you got rid of the piece of clothing on your upper half. But it wasn't enough for him—he had to have you naked against him, every inch of your warm, human skin against his hot, metal one.

Before his digit moved to the waistline of your pants, you were already unbuttoning and unzipping them, getting out of his lap just to be able to take them off fully alongside with your panties, them ending up somewhere on the floor, probably next to your shirt.

His optics immediately shot to your cunt, the temptation to put his spike inside you overwhelming his body. He didn't even wait patiently for you to get back onto his lap on your own, as soon as he stopped devouring the sight of you in front of him in just a bra, he immediately pulled you towards him with both servos on your hips again, placing you on his lap, exactly where you belonged at that moment.

Now your bare core was brushing against his spike, and he couldn't refrain himself from letting a couple of desperate noises roll off him glossa. You decided to undress fully for him, taking your bra off and tossing it onto the pile of long forgotten clothes. His optics could barely take in the view before his lips found themselves on your tits, his intake giving attention to both, switching from teasing, licking and kissing the left one to doing exactly the same to the right one. Your hardened nipples made it possible for him to gently bite them, making you buckle your hips and moan his name shamelessly, your own noises not allowing you to hear your thoughts, as if there was anything else on your mind other than how good Bee's glossa felt when it curled up on your nipple, it getting sucked into his intake.

The remains of self-control he could find within himself were slipping through his digits, the force of his touches increasing with every passing second. At the same time, he was also getting more and more intense reactions from you, your body craving more as it pressed against his.

Bee groaned, impatience getting the better of him, as he wrapped his arm around your fragile, human body, lifting you up with your chest still to his.

He moved fast like a starving man, placing you gently on the hard floor of the garage, its coldness radiating to your body, adding a completely new sensation. You arched your back, exposing your chest even more to him, hoping he'd put his mouth on your already swollen and sensitive nipples, but he seemed to have other plans when, without a heads-up, he grabbed the back of both your thighs, and lifted up your hips so that now the only body parts of yours making contact with the cement underneath you were your upper back and your head.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip to stop yourself from whimpering at the absolutely sinful sight of Bee kneeling down and hovering over you, spreading your legs and holding them pressed to your chest for better access to your dripping cunt.

You felt the tip of his spike teasing your hole which has been clenching over nothing for the past couple of minutes, finally about to get what it needed the most. And then, with one swift motion, Bee slid into you, the wet sound of his length entering your core echoed against the walls of your head.

A loud moan escaped the depths of your throat, lips parted, eyes closed themselves shut before you could even stop them, wanting to watch as the robot began trying to bottom out inside your warm cunt, but unfortunately his spike was too big for you to take for now.

It felt good. The pain from being so suddenly stretched out around him mixed with the pleasure from his spike hitting all the sweet spots inside you with the very first thrust of his hips.

Bee felt as if he no longer had control over his own body, the feeling of you wrapped around him, your warm cunt so inviting to just ruin it without second thoughts. And he could find absolutely no strength within himself to stop the almost animalistic desire to make you his in every meaning of this word.

His optics were trained on your face for mere seconds before his gaze shifted to the place where your bodies connected, your cunt covered in your own slick, the hole visibly stretched out to take his spike, even if it was only a half of his full length.

The idea of pushing the entire thing in only made him groan, the images of the bulge in your lower stomach he'd create flashing in front of his optics.

He threw his head back when he felt you clench around him, the sensation too much to handle.

You knew he was about to begin pounding into you as if it was the only thing he was made to do, the expression on his face and the look he was giving you the entire time confirming it.

"Bee..." you whined his name, not being fully aware what that sweet tone of your voice was doing to him.

So he just positioned himself better, pressing your thighs harder to your chest, taking almost the entire length of his spike out of your begging cunt, only to slam into you and put even more of him inside you.

You couldn't even control the noises escaping you anymore, your head thrown back because of the overwhelming pleasure.

Bee has had enough of waiting, the memory of him sitting in the corner of this garage, his spike in his servo as he kept fisting himself, overloading onto the hard floor multiple times just to get some relief after having to watch you walk around in your damned little dresses, your hips innocently swaying, your tits deliciously bouncing with every step.

Before you could register it, the robot was destroying your needy cunt with aggressive pounding, feeling as if he able to put more and more inches inside you with every slam of his hips against your ass.

His speed and the way he could hit all the best spots, even though the tip of his spike was kissing your cervix, made you constantly moan out loud, as if the walls of the garage were soundproof.

He kept making noises as well, although his were much deeper, more frustrated, as if he was chasing something he was so closed to catch but right before getting it, it'd just slip away from him.

He thought of this moment for a long time, the pink transfluid painting his servos on many occasions as he was imagining you in this exact position underneath him, squirming in pleasure.

But then, he came up with an even better idea, his body immediately following through, without even analysing it. He stopped mercilessly pounding into you just to manhandle you on your stomach, lifting your backside by your hips, spreading your legs to allow him to penetrate your needy cunt even more deeply. He positioned himself over you, his spike yet again pressing against your core for just a second before finally entering you once more. He didn't even waste time on preparing you to take him, just like the first time he pushed his length inside your pussy.

Now he had the opportunity to properly grope and slap your ass as much as he pleased, his hips constantly hitting it with every hard thrust he'd make. Tears began forming in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being so perfectly stuffed by his spike making you shudder, moan and squirm beneath him.

His movements were rapid and chaotic, but he never slowed down, only increasing his speed, making mental notes of the noises you were making while he was fucking you so good.

"Bee, 't hurts..." you whimpered weakly in-between your loud, slutty moans, him taking it as an encouragement to continue ruining your cunt which was now clenching around him more than ever before. His one servo went to the back of your head tilted to the side, his digits gently stroking your hair as if it was supposed to help ease the pain mixing with pleasure, while the other one was still on your hip, pulling your body towards him at the same time he was pushing at it, making your skins hit each other with even more force.

You told him it hurt you but he couldn't stop.

He felt himself getting closer and closer to overloading, the warmth of your cunt getting sweetly unbearable as his movements became more sloppy, yet still as hard as before.

"Fuck." Curses kept spilling from your sinful mouth, feeling his thick spike throb inside you, indicating that he was probably about to finish.

The discomfort and pain of his metal hips hitting your much softer backside were slowly becoming less and less noticeable as complete pleasure washed over you, making you a wet, moaning mess underneath him.

With his two servos on your hips, he increased the speed of his movements once more, chasing the so desired release.

"Bee, please..." you whined again, your tits bouncing with every thrust, your hardened nipples brushing against the rough floor, "Overload in me..."

Your words were enough to tip him over the edge. With only a few more harsh slams into your tight cunt, he felt himself spurting his thick transfluid into your cervix, multiple groans and whimpers leaving his intake as he did so. He kept fucking the pink liquid into your cunt, not wanting a single drop to escape.

You could still feel his hard, metal hips hitting your ass, all until you clenched around him so tightly, he swore he could overload again just from that sensation alone. You came all over his thick spike, moaning loudly, your body shaking with indescribable pleasure from both his rough pounding as well as the knowledge that his transfluid was deep inside you.

Bee didn't pull out instantly, his thrusts decreasing in speed and force with every passing second, trying to ride out the remains of his and yours overloads.

You were panting and the robot was most definitely overheating, his metal body much hotter in touch than ever before, now his chassis pressed against your back as he began planting gentle kisses to your hair, his vents not being able to catch up.

After a long time that didn't feel long enough for him, he decided to pull away and take his spike out of your core filled with his transfluid, practically begging him to just fuck it again. But now, that his lust for you was somehow taken care of, he could regain the control over his body, and allow you to rest after getting absolutely ruined by him.

You rolled over onto your back yourself, clenching your thighs together when you felt his pink juices flooding out of you, wanting to keep them there for as long as possible. He smiled at your attempts to keep him inside you, the desire growing in his optics once again.

Bee gently wrapped his servos around your bare, exhausted body, lifting you up to place you down on the sofa he was previously occupying with you in his lap. As soon as you felt the plush against the skin of your back, you pulled the robot in your direction with your hands on both sides of his helm, making him bend his body so that you could kiss him passionately for the last time that night, knowing that he was most likely about to leave you to take care of his Autobot duties. He obliged without complaining, ready to slide into you again right then and there. And how disappointed he was when you pulled away with a soft smile, exhaustion finally catching up to you...

The corner of his slips curled up as he looked around in search for something to put on you. An abandoned blanket sitting on a wooden chair since he could remember would do. Before you could even notice he left you alone on the sofa, he was back, covering you from the neck down quickly but still making sure your whole body was under the soft fabric.

"Prime needs you?" you asked in a weak tone, your voice now only confirming how tired you actually were.

Prime needed him but he needed you.

Bee only nodded, to which you responded softly, "I'll stay here." And before he could even give you any sort of a physical confirmation that he got that, you already closed your eyes with a content expression written all over your face.

He smirked to himself, the sweet feeling of finally achieving his goal washing over him, him practically having been able to live in his dreams for a moment. His smile only widened when he came to a realisation...

He finally managed to mark you as his.

don't know if i made it he-lost-control enough but i tried and that's what counts in my books. also, i made it an oneshot but if you wanted separate hcs for these characters ill be more than willing to write it

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nowiminexileseeingyouout · 23 days ago

Text

kate martin x reader

contains: oral (k!giving)

a/n: i’m a strong believer of the fact kate would say baby anyway first smut send me req or tips x

Kate was waiting at home when you stumbled through the door, exhausted after a long day at work. She took one look at your weary face and sighed. "Aw baby, come here," she said, pulling you into her strong arms. You melted into her embrace, relishing her warmth and the comforting scent of her skin.

"Let me take care of you," Kate murmured, guiding you to the bedroom. She helped you undress, her hands gentle on your body your day clothes soon replaced with a soft nightgown. Soon you were tucked into bed, the covers pulled up to your chin. Kate sat on the edge of the mattress, gazing down at you with a tender smile. "Is there anything I can do for you, baby?" she asked softly.

You looked up at her through heavy-lidded eyes, a small smile playing at your lips. "Just stay with me," you whispered. "Hold me."

Kate's expression softened. She lay down next to you and gathered you close, your head pillowed on her chest. You listened to the steady beat of her heart as her fingers stroked through your hair. Slowly, you felt the tension drain from your body, replaced by a bone-deep sense of peace and safety.

As you started to drift off, you felt Kate press a kiss to your forehead. Her hand slid lower, caressing your curves through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You let out a soft sigh, arching into her touch. Kate's fingers dipped beneath the hem, skimming over your sensitive skin. Your breath hitched as she found a particularly responsive spot, circling it slowly.

"That's it, just relax," Kate murmured, her voice low and soothing. "Let me make you feel good."

Her hand continued its torturously slow exploration, stoking the embers of your desire. You shifted restlessly, aching for more. Kate chuckled, the sound rumbling through her chest.

"Be paitent. We have all night."

She captured your lips in a deep, drugging kiss, swallowing your needy whimper. Her fingers delved between your thighs, finding you already slick and ready. You gasped into the kiss, your hips rocking instinctively against her hand. She stroked you slowly, teasingly, wringing soft moans from your throat.

"Please," you breathed, tugging impatiently at her clothes. Kate grinned against your lips, obliging you by shedding her own garments. Her skin was fever-hot against yours as she covered your body with her own. You tangled your legs together, desperate to feel her everywhere at once.

Kate kissed down your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. She lavished attention on each sensitive spot, determined to drive you wild with need. You arched beneath her, hands fisting in her blonde hair.

"Kate, please," you keened, aching for more. She finally took pity on you, settling between your thighs. You cried out as her tongue delved between your folds, lapping at your slick heat. "Oh god, yes," you sobbed, wrapping your legs around her head.

Kate set a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every touch of her mouth. She sealed her lips around your clit, suckling gently as her fingers pumped in and out of your dripping core. You thrashed beneath her, lost to the pleasure, your moans echoing off the walls.

"That's it, baby," Kate panted against your flesh. "Come for me. Let go."

Her words pushed you over the edge. Your back arched off the bed as ecstasy crashed through you, wave after wave of bliss. Kate followed you a moment later, her body shuddering between your thighs.

You collapsed back against the pillows, utterly spent. Kate crawled up your body to gather you close, nuzzling into your neck with a contented sigh. You stroked her hair, basking in the afterglow.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her temple.

"I love you too baby," Kate replied, her arms tightening around you. "Sleep now. I'll be right here when you wake up."

#kate martin x reader #kate martin smut #i’m down bad for kate martin #this isn’t very well written #kate martin

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themotherofblood · 1 year ago

Text

two swords, three holes | d.t x h.s x reader | smut

synopsis: two bisexual daddies and naive whore! reader. A longing reunion between soft!dom!Harwin, kelitsos and mean!dom!Dae Dae.

idk what about style by tswift made me type this but here we are, enjoy yourself some daddies. Also thanks to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for the title

WC: 4.9k

Warnings; double penetration (wrap before you tap) infantilism, overstimulation, anal, squirting, mlm, breeding kink, humiliation, corruption, :p, clittttt play because y’all know I’m crazy for that, multiple orgasm, multiple rounds,, spanking, rough smut, AFTERCARE! misogynistic culture, mentions of SA,

The warm crackle of the fire by the hearth seemed to have lulled you to further exhaustion, heating skin laid flush against furs in the receiving chambers. Awaiting one curly brown-haired Ser to return from his duties to your bed. The quaint cottage your patrons, or perhaps paramours had provided you with was further away from the Street of Silk, a house with walls large enough to fill with books as you learned to read and two attendants to keep you company in the day as your responsibilities only seem to resume at night. Though your abilities kept your pockets full often, opting to be more philanthropic with its expenditure. Both patrons had made one thing clear, you were to be untouched by hands that weren’t theirs.

They had found you on a particularly brutal rampage before the Tournament of the Harvest Moon. Prince Daemon, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, tore into the streets of King’s Landing with his gold cloak wearing soldiers; rounding up all knowns rapers, thieves and assailants. The perverse of the lot took advantage of the bloodied chaos as their blood rushed with the violence, with Daemon having no account for where his men had been - they too raped and brutalised with the authority of the Crown on their shoulders. Ser Harwin Strong had found you, curled into a corner as a lowly soldier towered over you. His teeth barred as he smirked with the thoughts of defiling you. Harwin had quickly taken action, reprimanding the man and dragging him back by the collar to Prince Daemon along with you as witness to his crime.

Upon their victorious return to the Flea Bottom streets, with the favoured crown sitting on Daemon’s head after winning the tourney. He treated his gold cloaks to his favourite brothel with all the women, ale and strong wines the men could stomach in one night. Chataya’s brothel had been the light of Flea Bottom that night. You worked at the very brothel, not as a whore but as a helper, while you were sold to Chataya at a very young age, her heart bled with empathy for you and raised you in her house and gave you the choice to be a whore or not.

You washed their clothes, cooked meals, cleaned rooms and counted account books with Chataya. Your curious eye often stood in the corners of these rooms dressed as a page boy, watching people delve deeper in perversions within the performative echoes from your ‘sisters’ as they pleased their customers. It was then that you spotted Prince Daemon and Ser Harwin once more, having nothing to offer them as gratitude other than bracelets made of mismatched pearls you had collected while cleaning rooms. Such innocent appreciation had made Daemon’s cock twitch within his breeches, and while Harwin picked a whore to fuck for the night. Daemon tried all his will to convince Chataya to have you - her answer remained firm throughout, it would be only if you wished it so.

Wished you did, having given your maidenhead to the handsome brunette Ser and eventually Daemon, both noblemen had you within their clutches. While they trusted Chataya’s judgement on keeping you just for them, they found it unbecoming within weeks as Daemon purchased a cottage higher up in the city to house you in. Their finest prize showered in gold and comfort, much expected to be kept to yourself and yet you always returned to your sisters. Buying them new gowns and necessities with the money Daemon gave you.

So here you were, bundled with furs in front of a painted hearth. Warm and content as you waited for Harwin to visit you. There had been three fires today in the city and four tavern brawls. The gold cloaks were always busy in ensuring the city safe, and to live up to the purpose Daemon had given them, so even as the hour of the owl struck the higher born of the city resumed to bed, the wild machinations of Flea Bottom were just to begin.

The night swayed forward, as Harwin exhaustively stumbled into your home, your handmaidens letting him into the establishment. He had trailed in to find your bed empty, and a puddle of furs and blankets pooled by the hearth, a head of hair leaking through and an apparent rise and fall of mount. You had fallen asleep waiting for him amd he couldn’t find it in his heart to wake you for his lustful needs. He scooped the bundle whole, all warm and dozed before placing you on your bed and following next you.

He pulled your limp body atop him, his larger arms engulfing you whole, you stir - whiney and apologetic - you realise you had fallen asleep. “Shh, sleep,” Harwin’s words rumbled within his bare chest, the hairs of which tickled at your cheek. The plans you had made to pleasure him tonight all washed away to sea as sleep only made you heavier, with only one thing left to be done, perhaps he would answer.

“May I ask you something, my lord,” you whispered, head lifting up to look upon his tired face. His eyes closed, lashes far prettier than your as he hummed to be permissive. “They say the fighting has grown ugly in the Stepstones, do… Do you have any word of Prince Daemon?”

His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes to look down upon you, his thumb caressed at your cheek. “He has a dragon, girl. He will be fine.”

This time you hummed, nuzzling further into the thickness of his beard, letting sleep carry you away to a world of dream as you imagined being surrounded in your paramours arms again.

Harwin patrolled the streets atop his horse, making his rounds lower into the city and keeping a watchful eye through his helmet. He caught your silhouette, dressed in a light blue gown as you mingled in the markets, spending his fortune for yet another absurd trinket no doubt instead of the pearls or gowns he expected you to buy, the last time you have bought clay moulded lizards - lizards - one of which you gifted him for becoming the Lord Commander of the City Watch before sucking his life through his cock.

“You there, girl!” Harwin’s voice boomed through the market making you flinch, you scowled at him for scaring you and yet people thought that the City Watch had yet again chosen to terrorise the innocent. “Come with me,” his voice dropped in authoritative sauve, motioning his finger to hither you towards him as he dismounted his horse.

Harwin’s hold on you was rough and yet as he dragged you towards an empty alleyway your heart thumped in your chest with excitement, your legs finding it harder to keep up with his hasty steps. Harwin pulled you in between a wall and himself, admiring you from behind his helm, you - very innocently - batted your eyelashes at him. “Have I done something wrong, Ser?” you smirked, lips pulling at the corners as you played along.

“Oh, a terrible crime,” he pushed you back against the stone wall “what do you think you are wearing?” his brow querked as his pointer and middle finger mindlessly trailed down to the low cutout of the dress, his fingers resulting in goosebumps flaring over your skin as he caressed the valley in between your breasts.

“This?” you looked down to your dress sheepishly, knowing the Dornish silhouette was a far exotic choice than anything the commoners let alone the ladies in King’s Landing wore. Gold arm cuffs were hugged around your upper arm as the ruby pendant Daemon gifted you sat against your sternum. “Do you not like it?” your question is genuine, soft. You doe eyed little thing.

“I could rip this off you as retribution, sweet girl,” he groaned, letting his head drop towards the crook of your neck “but I won’t. He whiffed in the scent of lilies in the air around you as he dragged his lips up to your ear, “on your knees, pet.”

“But- my dress,” you whined, not wanting to dirty your dress that you were sure no matter how hard you scrubbed wouldn’t be off, your bottom lip pouting out in conflict over wanting to kneel for him and the loss of your dress.

“I’ll buy you dozens more, perhaps take you Dorne myself,” he opposed, still caressing the round of your breast, letting them slip past the deep cut out.

You obliged kneeling like a well trained slut, ready with your tongue out to have your mouth stuffed. Harwin freed his cock from his breech, it laid semi hardened as you wrapped your hand around the base, tugging at it to harden alive. The warm appendage laid heavy on your tongue as his wet tip leaked its yearn slick. You suckled right on the tip, looking up at him through the lining of your eyelashes. His body hunched over, his palm laid flat against the wall as he greeted his teeth over the maddening sight of your innocent eyes looking up at him, his sweetest prize.

Your mouth sunk deeper feeling him grace the back of your mouth as your throat constricted, your cunt too pooled it’s slick within you. Wanting nothing more than to be pounded against this jagged stone wall. You bobbed away, reaching up to cradle his stones within your palm as you choked against his length. His muffled grunts echoing with the bustle noises of the city, any watchful eye would merely see a whore pleasuring a knight for two coppers, but you - you were no mere whore, you were the woman that held two noblemen by their collars.

“Ah - darling, fuck,” he hissed, the warm sensations of your mouth pleasuring him beyong compare “such a good girl,” he groaned. Holding back the urge to abruptly fuck into your mouth as his digits curled into your braided crown. His stones laid heavy and twitchy upon your hands as your eyes blazed aflame, finding much power bringing a staunch man like him so vulnerable, his lips pink and wet with his blue sea-like eyes glancing into your soul. The warm cream from his cock, spilling fast your lips as he finally rutted his hips into your mouth.

He rests his forehead onto the clenched fist resting on the wall, heaving his thudding heart to calm as you tuck him back into his breeches. Still pawing at his bountiful leather covered thighs, resting your cheek against it as you waited for him to gather his bearings. He yanked you up by your forearms, pulling out a handkerchief from his pockets to wipe at the corners of your mouth. He smiled at you, plump lips curling as he tucked his handkerchief into the belt of your dress.

“Scurry back home,” he ordered, reaching down to grasp your mound over the silks of your gown “play with your pretty cunt, keep it nice and wet.” he enunciated the ‘t’ as he crowded your air with his own. Commanding and tall “and don’t your dare fucking come.”

Even as you yet again curled into this absurdly large bed alone, filled with warmth of the furs and the freshly stoked hearth. The jasmine scent of the flowers decorating your canopy or the painted candle burning at the side of your bed, the owls hooted along with the muffled echo of the city still alive and bustling below. Keeping your galant knight away from your bed, away from your arms. To hell with the mongrels that kept him occupied so, they must always find a tavern to burn or a fight to enthral themselves with. There wasn’t any other way but to stroke your bare shoulder with your spare arm, mimicking the much coarser finger tips that often drew patterns of crescent moons or mangoes.

It has been perhaps hours since slumber consumed you whole, having curled into a rather painful position that would be sure to have your back aching in the morrow. In your drowsy and heavy state, it didn’t really matter. What made your heavy limbs hyper aware to your mind was when thunderous knocks rang down your door way past the middle of the night. Your servant girl had approached the door first, cautious as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, she opened the heavy steel bolt on the inside with a thud, hoping to not awaken you upstairs. The view she was graced with was terrifying to say the least, a man with face covered in soot and blood stood by the threshold. Had it not been for the burning torches above the doorway illuminating the steps below. Her scream would have awoken half of Rhaenys Hill, yet the glowing wisp of silver hair that peaked past the dirt made it highly apparent of who this person was, a patron missing from this house for over two years; Daemon Targaryen.

The uproar that followed after Daemon’s return to King’s Landing was joyous, an animalistic life of its own, Flea Bottom had provided. With Daemon’s return, their Prince returned to breathe fire into their debauchery. The night he returned, with no pages or correspondences announcing his return. Merely stopping at your doorstep still reeking of the war he had won, awry bandaging covering his up thigh and the very apparent burn scarring spreading through the right of his torso had you gasping and tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you stripped him of his armour and then clothes. Your servant Marsha had prepared a steaming hot, hot bath to wash away the pains from the brutalities he suffered, once settled in the bath. Perhaps your emotions had taken the better of you as you stepped into the tube as well, hissing at the burning contact of the milky water, still in your cream shift as Daemon protested. You lowered with a washcloth in your hand, wordlessly washing away any speck of dirt fallen victim to your eyes. What had they done to him, even more so what had he done to the assailant that might have had the daft courage to trifle with Daemon.

When you awoke the morning after, Daemon had already vanished. Though having slept with your body pulled tight against his, you had no recollection of him leaving, Marsha said he dressed in the early hours of the morning and left. Your heart stung a little, you should be accustomed to both noble men leaving and arriving at all hours of the morning and night for they had their own courtly lives to lead, a part beyond a common whore’s stature.

By the coming of the afternoon, when the sun stood at its highest and King’s Landing at its busiest, word of Daemon’s performance at court in the morrow spread through the city. The Rogue Prince, now styles the King of the Narrow Sea waltzed into the Throne Room to rub his victory into the faces of his protestors but also added a dozen sacks full of swords, axes and weapons to the throne. Keeping merely the bone and ruby crown he rested upon his head.

You dressed for him nonetheless, with no hopes that he might return at night; having been in his family’s company after three summers. Yet a letter arrived from the Red Keep, informing you to prepare the house of guests. The entirety of the gold cloaks were to descend onto your home, though a large event to host a sizable amount you were still a little wary of the men.

More helpers were acquired just for the evening as you found yourself fussing like the ladies of minor houses to impress the hood society though nothing about this night would be polite, nor proper. You wore a dark maroon dress, curtesy of the colours of house Targaryen, Daemon found it visually stirring, the ominous colour against your supple skin. With much preparation for yourself, from a bath laced with milk and sandalwood shavings - having yourself cleaned thoroughly - to the rose oil rubbed against your skin to your pinkish cheeks and lips with rogue.

The celebration was exuberant, gold cloaks accompanied with women(whores) curled around each arm flooded into the main hall of your home. Deep bellies laughter and high pitched chortle harmonised against one another, you settled comfortably on Harwin’s lap as you giggled and tuned to hear the gory tales of battles between. Taking turns to use your nibble finger and feed either Harwin or Daemon, you revelled in the attention you received. A constant was Daemon's heavier hand under yours as you mindlessly twisted his signet rings, something he took not of and loosened his rest on the table.

Daemon leaned back to whisper to Harwin as you gossiped along with a sister from Chataya’s giggling over the eccentric men she had met and the stories they told her in a lust filled state. You abruptly shrieked as you felt Harwin rise with your body in his arms as he effortlessly threw you over his shoulder. Hollers and hoots ripped through the main hall as they banged their fists against the table or whistled at their Lord Commander, his chair scraping against the stone floor as he began to carry you upstairs. Daemon rose their after.

“Now,” he announced as the chatter in the room dwindled, “forgive me lads, I’m afraid the hostess herself is a finer feast than the one she has offered us tonight.” He smirked your way as you were carried away. The men around the hall toasted your name and hollered once more as Daemon soon followed behind.

Your dress has been long discarded in some dark corner of your bed chambers, the crowd below had surely filled themselves to the brothels or taverns. Leaving but Marsha and the attendant to clean the mess left behind. Upstairs yet another scene unfolding at the foot of your bed as your stood on the balls of your feet, head swooning and occupied at the wet ministrations between yours legs. One knee resting over Harwin’s shoulder as the other being caressed by a hand - which hand was a question unanswered as you were being consumed in waves of pleasure.

Harwin’s beard tickled and rubbed against your thigh sore, his tongue feasting at the petal below. Slurping between your folds only to grace you aching, throbbing bud momentarily; refusing you of the release you longed for. Daemon settled behind you toyed with your puckered rosebud, a sensation he much missed as he himself had carved a home with his cock in your arse. Licking and spreading it open with his tongue, lovingly - teasingly letting his digit be engulfed as his others toyed with your cunt. Filling either from the paper walls separating them, Daemon found odd fascination with the way your environs moved, malleable to stretch to his will but mostly how much the brat within you fought hard against the acquiescent demeanour you possessed.

They could spend hours strumming away at your petals and holes; relishing in the sounds of your squelching cunt along with the soft kitten like mewls curbed your urge to beg. Harwin once again trapped your pearl between his lip, suckling away as you shrieked. Hips grinding as best as they could against the tight hold held against them, you wanted to finish, the tingle soon turning to pain. You yearned for that release like water to a dying plant. “Pl - please my lord,” you whined, more tears falling past your eyes.

To your horror, Harwin pulled away once more as he felt the grip of your cunny clench against his and Daemon’s fingers. You could nearly scream from how frustrated you were but all you could do was weep, mourn the longing peak that now flared into far sensitised despair in your belly. Sniffling and pouted soft bottom lip down, Daemon rose to his legs to admire the bereft look of pliant begging. “Please,” you whispered, more tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. Your eyes looking up at Daemon towering over you, “I’ll do anything, my prince,” you hiccuped, leaning into the soft caress of his hand.

Daemon’s palm curled into your wild hair, yanking back the braided crown “I’m not your prince am I?” his voice sweet, doting yet the shivering of threats, no - no he wasn’t your prince, he was your tormentor. Having grown too used to the spoiling Harwin had doted upon you. “My King,” you said, hoping to please him, enough to wash away the terrible ache in between your legs.

His hand never left your hair as he pulled you away from Harwin, yanking your clumsy limbs down to your bed. Harwin rose to his feet next, beard glistening with your juices and blue eyes blown with lust, he kissed your arse as your shuffled onto the bed. Dripping away the extra furs and blankets, to hell with them. Daemon engulfed Harwin from behind, attacking his neck as he complained “you’ve spoil her too much,” he whispered as he let his arms roam through his paramour’s muscular body.

“And you not enough,” Harwin defended, smiling at your needy face “she is a good girl, isn’t she?” He quirks his brow at you. Your head furiously nodded, sealing the statement as you sat on your knee and back straightened. The only thing gracing your skin, a necklace made of shells and sapphires. “Organising such a wondrous feast for her lords,” he said, Daemon hummed, agreeing.

“I suppose you do deserve to be rewarded, don’t you slut,” Daemon approached you, pushing you hair away, almost petting you like a kept animal. You nodded once more. “What do you want?” he whispered against your lips.

“Both, I - I want to be full,” you looked down at your fiddling fingers “please,” you requested. Daemon audibly growled from the back of his throat. His forehead falling to rest against yours, the insatiable want you had just voiced was one too sinful, one too familiar and yet untouched in years.

“It’s been long pet, perhaps we should wait before using you so…” the excited smile that adorned your lips downturned entirely to a frown and pout. You nudged your nose at Daemon hoping he would agree, convince Harwin that you could do it.

“Please, I’ve been so empty,” you reached forward to palm at Harwin’s crotch. He hissed, succumbing to your eyes per usual.

“If you are hurt-“

“I will tell you, I promise,” you perked up once more.

Your arse soon oiled slick as you laid engulfed between both men, what began with little resistance from your part, with no hurt or weeping. Both took turns pistoning at your hole. Just as Daemon breached your rosebud as Harwin’s cock remained nestled in your cunny, you peak swiftly washed out you. Yet perhaps an hour or even two after you pushed against Harwin, weeping and dizzy as you recovered from yet another peak. There was no place to run as your laid sandwiched in between Harwin, your leg thrown over his thigh as Daemon fucked your bottom from behind.

As though performing tricks both took you apart in the filthiest of ways, Harwin showering you with compliments as he moaned and coddled you with each thrust, Daemon - Daemon left no word unturned within the crass knowledge of his words. His slut, his whore that he trained from firsthand. His palm curled against your throat as he fucked your arse raw; “there’s no running ilbitsos,” he grunted against your ear. “You love this, arse gaping for me to fuck, cunny sopping wet for Harwin.”

Your mouth parted to perhaps mewl some more and construct a sentence yet your tongue felt heavy, “seems we might have fucked our sweet girl daft,” Harwin added, pinching at the pebbles nipples brushing against his chest. Daemon laid two sharp smacks on your rear to elicit an answer, you weren’t sure if you did or perhaps if it was coherent. You blinked away tears as you rambled about loving their cock or being the silly whore but little mattered against the building pressure in your belly, yet again.

“Shh, just let it happen,” Harwin groaned as he felt you fight against them again, there wasn’t a warning this time. Harwin in turn curled his palm around throat as Daemon lowered to pull in your belly towards him while the other free hand found your engorged pearl, unsheathed from its hiding as he flicked his thumb at the throbbing nub. He could swore your arse pulsed the same way the pink coil of nerves did. You screamed, crying out as the fucked you only that much harder. There was only moments of pleasurable agony as the flow of your peak burst right through, literally.

“Fuck, she’s going to milk my cock dry,” Daemon exclaimed, “dumb slut just hungry to be filled with noble seed, isn’t she,” he groaned feeling your peak drench his cock and the sheets bellow as Harwin and him fucked your pliant body through the finish. Their own cocks soon after twitching to completion as they intertwined their hand with one another’s, sticky warm seed flooded your cunt and rosebud, they heaved in unison and you - you were gone. The brunt of the peak pulled you far away from shore, your breathing the only indication that they indeed had not fucked you to death.

When you awoke, your limbs no longer tingled but you were warm, and heavy. You heard shuffles of feet, the sound of wood - doors opening and closing until your eyes opened. Your body curled tightly against Daemon as you sat in between his legs, dozing to consciousness from the thorough exertions they put you through you whined once more. “Shh, it’s over sweet girl,” he whispered, his fingers caressing your arms. While Daemon wasn’t one for words he was sure to purchase another necklace for your efforts tonight.

Harwin from the other end rubbed a wash cloth against your face, washing away the tears, drool and snot covering your face. Whispering sweet words as he always did as the attendants stripped the linens for fresh ones. Only this night there was no need for a fresh stoked fire for you had both laying on either side of you.

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agirlnamedelia · 3 months ago

Text

Clean Slate

As part of the cleaning regiment, you’re assigned to help Levi with maintaining the underground headquarters. Levi, known for his strict cleanliness standards, is surprised to find you have an equally strong dedication to keeping things spotless. Over time, the two of you bond over the shared responsibility, leading to quiet but meaningful moments. One day, you fall ill, and Levi shows a softer side, caring for you and ensuring you get better, revealing his deeper feelings.

The sound of scrubbing echoed through the underground headquarters as you diligently worked on polishing the floors. Levi, ever the perfectionist, was beside you, his eyes sharp as he inspected every corner. He barely spoke, his focus entirely on maintaining the spotless environment that he demanded.

“Missed a spot,” he commented, pointing to a corner you had just finished.

You bit back a sigh, knowing better than to argue. “I’ll get it,” you replied, grabbing the cloth again.

Levi watched you as you went over the area with renewed vigor. He was surprised by your dedication—most people would have grumbled or given up by now. But you matched his standards, and he found himself respecting you for it.

“You’re pretty meticulous,” he remarked after a while, breaking the usual silence.

“Someone’s got to keep up with you,” you shot back with a small smile. “Besides, it’s kind of satisfying to see everything so clean.”

Levi nodded, almost imperceptibly. “It is.”

Days turned into weeks, and you and Levi fell into a routine. There was something comforting about the quiet moments you shared, working side by side to keep the headquarters in pristine condition. Conversations were rare, but they didn’t need to be frequent; you both understood each other through your actions.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you noticed Levi lingering after you’d finished your tasks. “Levi, is something wrong?” you asked, wiping your hands on your apron.

He shook his head. “No, just… you’ve been doing a good job. Better than most.”

You blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.”

He nodded again, then turned to leave, but not before casting one last glance your way. You could feel the warmth in your chest, a connection growing stronger with every passing day.

The next morning, you woke up feeling off. Your head throbbed, and your body ached. Despite this, you forced yourself out of bed, determined to get your work done. You knew Levi wouldn’t tolerate any slacking, and you didn’t want to disappoint him.

But as you stumbled into the cleaning supplies room, Levi was already there, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in your pale complexion. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his tone harsher than usual.

“Cleaning,” you replied weakly, reaching for a mop.

“Like that?” He stepped closer, frowning. “You’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” you protested, though the wobble in your voice betrayed you.

Levi’s scowl deepened, and before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the nearest chair. “Sit. You’re not doing anything until you’re better.”

“Levi, I can still—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, though there was a rare softness in his eyes. “You’re not fine, and I’m not letting you make it worse.”

You blinked, stunned by his concern. Levi wasn’t one to coddle anyone, let alone show this level of care. But here he was, his hands gentle as he guided you to sit down.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’ll get something for your fever.”

You didn’t protest, feeling too weak to argue. As he left the room, you leaned back, closing your eyes. The pounding in your head made it hard to think, but one thing was clear—Levi was worried about you, and that realization sent a strange warmth through your chest.

Levi returned with a damp cloth and some medicine. He handed you the medicine first, watching closely as you swallowed it. Then, he carefully placed the cloth on your forehead, his touch surprisingly tender.

“Why are you…?” you started, but he cut you off with a stern look.

“Because I’m not an idiot,” he replied curtly. “And I’m not going to let you push yourself into a worse condition. You’re important here.”

The words hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but smile despite your discomfort. “Thank you, Levi.”

He grunted in response, but you could see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Just get better, alright? I can’t keep this place spotless on my own.”

You chuckled, which quickly turned into a cough. Levi’s expression softened further as he adjusted the cloth on your forehead. “Rest,” he commanded. “That’s an order.”

You nodded, too tired to argue. As you closed your eyes, you felt Levi’s hand brush against yours, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes.

Over the next few days, Levi kept a close eye on you, ensuring you had everything you needed to recover. He didn’t say much, but his actions were enough to convey what words couldn’t. And when you finally started to feel better, he was the first to notice, his relief almost palpable.

“Good to see you up and about,” he remarked one morning as you joined him in the cleaning supplies room.

“Good to be back,” you replied with a smile. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Levi shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Don’t mention it.”

But as you resumed your duties, there was a newfound closeness between you, a bond forged in quiet moments and shared responsibilities. And though Levi never said it outright, you knew that he cared for you in a way that went beyond mere teamwork. In his own subtle way, he had shown you just how much you meant to him, and that was more than enough.

#levi x y/n #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #levi x reader #hange aot #aot levi

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fanficsformyfaves · 1 year ago

Text

Safe

Loki Laufeyson x Fem Witch!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Oral Sex ( R Receiving) P in V Sex, No Protection (This is fiction, you are not, WRAP IT UP), Praise Kink, Mentions of Torture, Hurt to Comfort

PREFACE: Nearly a month after being rescued by Loki, Reader begins to warm up to him and even starts developing a crush on the all powerful god. One night, she has a particularly frightening nightmare about being kidnapped by Thanos and goes to find Loki for comfort

A/N: Flashbacks in Italics!

Dream Sequence in Bold, Italics and Colored!

Loki never faked his death in Avengers 1, but just escaped in this A/U

I have such an affinity for big scary villains having soft spots for 'that one person'

"Please", I sobbed quietly,

As the titan walked closer towards me. The gauntlet on his wrist emitting different colored glows from each infinity stone.

"I don't know where the mind stone is", I lied.

I couldn't give Vision away and betray the family I made of the Avengers. They've saved my life on countless occasions and I couldn't let them down.

"Lies do not bode well with me, little witch. It is in your best interest to be complicit", he warns menacingly,

Before calling over his henchmen to pull my bruised aching frame off the floor.

"I will not ask again...where...is...the stone?"

"I don't know!"

He sighs heavily and points the golden fist right at me.

"Fine. Have it your way"

The gauntlet begins to radiate light and I felt it drawing my powers out of my body. The screams of agony I let out echoing around the room and down every hall.

To say it was excruciating would've been an understatement. I could physically feel the life in me being quickly drained and the remaining strength I had left leaving with it.

Just as I was on the verge of completely losing consciousness, I wake up screaming into the darkness of my bedroom.

This was not the first nightmare I've had since escaping Thanos and I was sure it wouldn't be the last, but this one felt all too real. Like, I truly was still on that spaceship, enduring even more of the torture.

It had been nearly a month since Loki found and rescued me. No one knew that either of us survived Thanos' attempt on our lives, so, we were left to hide out somewhere in Europe.

At first, I wanted to leave and find the rest of the Avengers, but Loki refused to let me go and enchanted the house we were staying in. It wouldn't have been a problem...had I not just lost most of my powers.

He was a god after all and I was nowhere near strong enough to break through his magic, especially running on an almost empty tank.

"It's not safe-"

"They're my family, Loki-"

"Then they should be able to understand that you are in no condition to fight!"

"I at least need to let them know I'm alive!"

"And risk exposing yourself to Thanos?! Are you really that stupid?!"

The tension between us was all you could feel. That and the deafening silence that followed his harsh words.

"Don't call me that-"

"Stop acting like it and I will"

I walk away and take a seat by the bay window. He sighs and bows his head.

"I saved your life. You might hate me for this now, but I do hope...eventually, you'll understand", he says,

Before making his way back to his room.

I couldn't really blame him for being the way that he was. He had lost so much already and I was the only person, besides his brother, to give him another chance at life.

Loki and I met long before the kidnapping, while he was in S.H.I.EL.D.S' custody. No one was getting through to him and Thor thought I would be the right person for the job, given my past.

"You sure about this, kid?", Nat questioned,

"I know enough about dealing with people like him"

She furrows her eyebrows curiously.

"What does that mean?"

"I was like him", I emphasized,

Before walking towards the chamber they locked him up in.

"Well...you must be the witch I've been hearing so many murmurs about"

I sigh through my nose, as he scanned me up and down.

"A lot shorter than I imagined"

"And a hell of a lot tougher than your futile attempts to get under my skin, so", I smiled sarcastically,

"Oooh, sharp tongue", he says,

Using his elbow to lean against the glass, as his deep voice causes my stomach to stir.

"You might just be the most interesting person I've met today. Well, that's not saying much, given your competition. My dull brother, the broody spy, metal man and captain wonder boy"

I scoff, folding my arms.

"I hear you use to be a villain of sorts. Why the change? I can tell you had potential"

"I found a family"

It was now his turn to scoff and turn away.

"The avengers?", he mocked,

Turning back to watch me step closer to the glass.

"You truly think they actually care about you?"

I take a moment to myself, before returning my attention to the god before me.

"I used to be just like you. Untrusting, malicious, a conniving little backstabber that was convinced that everyone was out to get me. I would hurt people before they could even think of hurting me first, sound familiar?"

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me.

"If you're such an expert on my character, then why not just kill me and get it over with?", he questioned,

"Because you still have a chance. I did and I know you do too"

"How incredibly naive. This little mind game of yours might work on the weak, but not on me"

"Its not a mind game, Loki. It's the truth"

He glares at me in an attempt to scare me off, but that wasn't going to work.

I knew back then if the team had just walked out on me, I would still be in the same exact position as him, maybe even worse off. So I wasn't going to back down without a fight.

"Was it easy for me to let my guard down? No, it was terrifying. I thought they would turn on me at any chance they got, but when they came back and saved me from Hydra...I knew I could trust them"

"How touching. Should I bring out the violins?"

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm.

"The point of all of this is that I'm not giving up on helping you"

"You're wasting your time", he said dismissively,

"Maybe, but that's not gonna stop me"

Unbeknownst to me, what I said actually got to him that night and for the first time in centuries, he truly felt seen as something other than a monster.

After his escape, I didn't see him again till Ragnarok, when we had to battle against his sister, Hela.

I was preoccupied with fighting off one of the undead that I didn't notice another one closing in on me. Just as the Draugr was about to swing his sword, his head was cut clean off his neck and the moment his body hit the ground, Loki was revealed standing right behind him.

"Hi", I greeted surprised,

"Hi", he nodded.

I look behind Loki and see Hela's wolf charging at us, when I use my powers to suspend the creature in the air and send it flying over Asgard's edge.

"I see you've gotten stronger", he says,

Causing me to shrug.

Once Thor put an end to Hela's reign of terror and got the remaining of Asgard's people safely onto the ship, we thought we were in the clear.

We couldn't have been more wrong. The refugees were mercilessly slaughtered by Thanos' guards and we were all imprisoned for days. All of us, except for Loki, who still pretended to be on the titan's side.

Eventually, when Thor was ejected out of the ship, Loki somehow managed to sneak the tesseract out and plan his escape, but when he realized I was still trapped there, he couldn't leave me behind.

I was laying in my cell, after freshly being drained of my magic, when a flash of green catches my eye. I tiredly turn to see who it was and in my half-conscious state, I could still recognize the man rushing to my side.

"Loki?", I called out weakly,

"Shhh, I've got you", he whispered,

Scooping me up into his arms, before using the tesseract to teleport us away.

I couldn't make out where we were, but he immediately lays me down on the bed and started checking me for injuries. Thankfully, only my hands had aged years from my powers being taken and they would eventually return to normal with time.

"Get some rest. I need to make some arrangements"

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep after that.

Back to present day, I find myself leaving my room and making my way to his. Hesitantly, I knocked on his door and awaited a response. The door eventually opens and I was met with Loki rubbing his tired eyes.

"(Y/N)?"

I could no longer keep my composure. I run into his arms, throwing my own around him and sobbing into his chest.

"I had a nightmare", I wept.

He sighs in relief, before holding me.

"I still see him when I close my eyes"

"Shhh, you're alright"

I pull away, sniffling and he wipes my tears away.

"Come in", he urged,

Gesturing to the inside of his room. I nod and walk in, taking a seat on the foot of his bed, as he followed suit.

"He can't get you. I won't let him", he reassured,

Taking my hand into his.

"You can't promise me that"

"That won't inhibit me from trying"

I take a deep breath, as he uses his hand to gently cup my cheek and turn me to face him.

"It won't"

"Could I um...stay here? Just for tonight", I sniffled,

"Of course", he reassures.

We get into bed and buried ourselves beneath the blanket. A few moments of silence goes by, till Loki spoke up.

"Was this the first nightmare?"

I was too embarrassed to reply, so I simply shook my head.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was ashamed. I didn't wanna worry you either"

"Ashamed? You've gone through the worst of it and here you were, worried about how I would see you? (Y/N), you don't have to pretend with me. You're allowed to express your pain"

Hearing him be so sincere and gentle was more than enough to calm my nerves. I scoot closer towards him and he welcomes me in with a warm embrace.

"You are here with me and as long as there is still life in my veins, I promise you, you are safe"

I crane my head up and he meets my gaze.

Maybe it was just the exhaustion that was getting to me, but in that moment, I felt something and I was sure he felt it too.

"Loki", I whispered,

Carefully bringing my hand to his cheek.

"Yes?"

Without wasting another precious second, I press my lips onto his. If you had told me months ago that Loki and I would be here, in this moment, I would've laughed in your face, but right now...all I could think about was how good he felt against me. How effortlessly his skilled hands would caress the expanse of my back.

For a while, he reciprocated the kiss with the same fervour that I had, but then suddenly, he pulled away from me with a gasp.

"We can't"

"Loki-"

"If you're doing this because you feel as though you owe me...don't"

I couldn't help but feel my heart ache at his words. He really thought this was just a pity kiss, when it was nothing of the sort.

With my hands still cupping his face, I spoke.

"Loki. You saved my life, yes...but this isn't just some act of me saying thank you. Don't get me wrong, I will forever be grateful, but this is not what tonight is about"

He watched me intently, anticipating what I had to say.

"Life could end at any given moment and I won't spend what could be my last days being afraid. I know should've said this sooner...but I've fallen for you", I confessed.

His shoulders relaxed at my words.

"You truly mean that?"

"With every fiber of my being", I reassured,

Rubbing my thumbs back and forth on the apples of his cheeks. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, before continuing.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that"

All the weight that had been burdening me for weeks had finally been taken off my shoulders. He brushes a hair away from my forehead, before continuing to speak.

"You saved me from the moment you met me. You gave me another chance at redemption...and I will never"

He presses a kiss to my forehead.

"Ever"

He pressed one more to my cheek.

"Be able to thank you enough"

He presses a final one to my lips.

"If you'll have me, darling, I would love to show you the depths of my devotion"

I couldn't help, but blush at his request.

"I'd love nothing more" I exhaled.

That was all the god of mischief needed to hear, before grinning like a wild cat and pouncing onto me.

Our lips meet in a heated exchange, as his hands used my hips to pull me in closer. Every inch of my skin was burning for more. All the secret pining and anticipation has lead us to this very moment and I knew there was no going back from here. Not that I had any plans of doing so.

At some point, he flips us over so that I was on top, straddling the expanse of his thighs. I pull away for a moment to grasp at the bottom off my sweater and pull it off over my head. I was now left completely topless.

A coy smile tugs at his lips and his hands make their way up my waist, till they gently settled on my breasts.

"Had I known this was what awaited me beneath your clothes, I would've invaded New York much sooner", he joked,

Making me chuckle, whilst biting back a smile and shamelessly rolling my hips against his erection.

"Glorious, every inch of you", he exhaled.

Every word he spoke had me losing my breath. Though, it should come as no surprise to me, as he was always so effortless with them. He didn't have to say or do much to make me melt and he knew it.

Growing impatient with me teasingly grinding on him, he flips us over once more, causing a surprised gasp to escape me.

"You will be the death of me", he murmured under his breath,

Kissing me again. His lips eventually trail down my neck, the valley between my breasts, till he wrapped them around one of my eager buds, using the tip of his tongue to draw firm circles. The sinful noises spewing out of me only encouraging him further.

Once he was done showering both my hardened nips with attention, he journeyed down farther, before yanking my shorts and underwear off and pulling my thighs apart. I couldn't help but feel a chill run up my spine, seeing him stare at me with now darkened eyes.

"At long last"

He drags a finger up my drenched slit.

"A feast worth dying for", he whispered,

Finally lowering his head. I gasp at the contact, feeling his tongue clean up the mess he caused. My hands flying up at his hair, grasping at the roots.

"Loki", I whimpered,

As my legs tighten around his head. I was only met with approving hums and his hands keeping my legs apart, allowing him to continue savoring the taste of me.

"Even the sweetest fruits fall bitter at your presence", he mumbled against my bundle of nerves,

Sucking it in like the last thing he'd ever have.

I already found myself trying to fight of the nearing climax that was threatening to overtake me.

It would've been less of a struggle, had he not decided to slip two of his digits into my needy cavern, repeatedly pressing into my sweet spot. He was oh so precise with his ministrations.

"You're close, I can feel it. Do not deny me of that. Come undone for me, darling. Show me how good I make you feel"

That was the final push I needed for the knot in my stomach to snap apart and unravel. My vision fading for a moment, as my body tensed to welcome in the euphoric high.

Eventually, I grow limp coming down from my orgasm and he slowly made his way back up to my lips.

"Do you taste yourself? So exquisite, so rich. I must have you"

"Then take me", I demanded,

Holding the back of his neck.

"I was only ever yours to take"

I could tell that unlocked something within him. Like I had just awoken a beast that was already trying to claw its way out. Giving me one last mischievous smirk, he sits up, pulling his own boxers off, revealing his painfully hard cock that was begging to be soothed.

"Do you see what you do to me? Driving me up the walls by simply just being? I will ravish you to no end"

"Stop talking and just do it"

He chuckles deeply and reunites our lips once again, before tossing my legs around his waist. He takes his member into his hand, pressing the red aching tip against my sensitive clit. My back arching off the mattress as a result.

"So responsive to my touch. Will you be good for me?"

"Yes", I whispered,

And before I knew it, he plunges himself into me, resulting in another gasp to escape my parted lips.

"You are just as I'd dreamt", he groaned into my ear.

After giving me a moment to adjust, he slowly pulled his hips back, before thrusting back inside of me.

"You feel so good around me"

It didn't take long for his pace to pick up momentum. Within what felt like seconds, he began pounding mercilessly into my heat. His arms bound tightly around me waist preventing me from slipping away, as if I had any plans to.

That same familiar feeling that overwhelmed me not too long ago already building up.

Loki wasn't that far behind either. I could tell by the tempo of his movements faltering with each passing second.

"I cannot hold back any longer. Come with me, darling. Now", he struggled,

As we both fall into it together. I claw down at the alabaster skin of his back, whilst he gripped onto me for dear life, emptying himself into my pulsing walls. He then collapses on top of me and we take a moment to catch our breaths.

By the end, the room smelled of sex, sweat and the apple cinnamon candle illuminating the darkness.

He then musters the remaining of his strengths to carefully pull out of me and place me atop his sweaty chest.

"Nothing and no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I can help it", he promised,

Kissing the top of my head.

#loki laufeyson #mcu #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson oneshot #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson angst #loki laufeyson smut #tom hiddleston

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sweetlikesunflowersandhoney · 3 months ago

Text

Maps

Read on ao3

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The woman scurried down the dark alleyways, her harried steps echoed by the stone walls and the heavier footsteps chasing after her. Her long skirt weaved between her legs until it got caught in a wooden barricade she had to jump, so she tugged on it harshly until it ripped and she was free. She made quick turns, hoping to lose her would-be-captors, and when she found a pile of crates and waste behind the butcherman’s shop, she hunkered down under it and made herself small.

With her knife in her hand and her heart in her throat, Sasha waited.

Loud yelling from the leader, someone else’s mumbling, then the dull crunch of a fist on a bony torso. Sasha took slow, measured breaths that dragged the smell of old blood and rot into her lungs.

She waited, and prayed, until the three sets of steps left her behind.

When she felt safe, Sasha unfurled herself from under the garbage, feeling her heartbeat in every vessel. She untraced her steps and headed back to the tavern where she had been spotted, and where her crew hopefully still waited for her.

Unfriendly, unfamiliar faces stared at her as she walked. She longed for the wide brim of the hat she’d lost in the chase, to hide from the scrutiny and the scorching sun. Under the cover of her hand, she looked up to find the wooden hanging sign of the tavern.

As she passed an alleyway, however, a familiar whistle called her from the darkness, and Sasha followed.

From the shadows emerged a tall figure, a sword glinting on their hip and Sasha’s hat in their hands.

“Welcome back, captain,” Anetra said, handing Sasha her hat.

“Miss Reyes,” Sasha greeted her second-hand, trying to keep her tone steady as she took in the new red stains on Anetra’s white blouse. “Good to see you’re still in one piece.”

“Nothing but a few nicks and flesh wounds for the lot of us, captain. Once you left, they lost all interest in us.” Anetra sighed melodramatically. “A bit disheartening, to tell the truth. What’s a woman have to do to get some enemies of her own?”

“Here’s hoping that the next pack of criminals we find are after you instead of me.”

“Hear, hear,” Anetra said, toasting her imaginary cup in the air.

“Did everyone make it out alright?”

Anetra nodded and started the way to the docks, guiding her captain down the narrow, empty alleys.

“Everyone should be back on the ship and ready to sail. We were just waiting for you, captain.”

“How noble of you not to ditch me and steal my ship.”

“It did cross my mind. But what good is a ship without a treasure map?”

“There are other treasures to pursue in this world, Miss Reyes. Certainly easier ones. You have tied your cart to a particularly unreliable horse. Wouldn’t you rather go back to plundering English ships?”

“Hm,” Anetra hummed, scratching her chin in thought. “Nah. Where is the fun in that?”

Anetra turned her face to Sasha and gave her that shark-like smile of hers, the one that made Sasha feel reckless enough to chase any mythical treasure to the edge of the world.

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The seashells, the feather, the candle, the dirt. Sasha gathered her skirts to kneel down on the floor of her room, chanting the old songs under her breath.

Her ship creaked and groaned around her, the strong wood engaged in its intricate dance with the sea.

“We thank the wind in our sails, for its power when it lets us sail through the ocean, for its wisdom when it makes us be still and wait.”

She let the feather fall into a porcelain plate, chanting as she watched it fall on the sea water in it.

“We thank Mother Sea for holding us in her embrace, for feeding us.”

With a handful of crushed seashells and fish bones, she drew a circle around the plate, letting them slip through her fist like salt. She opened the jar of dirt and inhaled its scent, closing her eyes and letting herself be ten years old again, running barefoot on the soft soil through the wilderness that sprawled behind her home. Sasha dipped her fingers in the dirt and painted a dark line over each of her wrists.

“May we always come back to shore. May we remember the way.”

Sasha closed the jar and lit up the candle. She bent down her head and prayed for safety, for strength, for every person in her crew.

Let us return. Let us return.

Her chants had reached their natural conclusion and left her in a meditative state by the time she heard a knock on the door. She knew who it was from the cadence alone, so she said come in without clearing up the things for the ritual.

“Hey,” Anetra said quietly, going down the few steps into Sasha’s quarters. “Were you praying?”

“Just finished,” Sasha said, blinking owlishly at the light that broke through the dim room before Anetra closed the door behind her. “I was praying that we survive this voyage.” She snuffed out the candle and fished the feather out of the water so it could get dry.

“Please,” Anetra huffed, “you should’ve asked that we find the treasure.”

“I believe that is your task, Miss Reyes,” Sasha smiled, “or are you telling me you lost your touch? Do I need to find another navigator?”

“You offend me,” Anetra said with faux outrage, clenching her shirt over her heart like she’d been wounded. “I am merely suggesting that, since the sea favors you so much, you could ask it to make things a tad easier for us.”

“The Sea already gives us everything we need. The rest is up to us.”

Sasha put the shells and the dirt back in their drawer and left the plate under her dresser to be dealt with later. When she turned around, Anetra was right in front of her. Even in her boots, Sasha had to look up at her.

Anetra was still young, though life at sea had given her coarser skin. She was young in her airs, in her wild, windswept hair, and in the imprudent way she eyed her captain up and down.

“Still,” Anetra said, dragging her eyes up to Sasha’s. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of mystical guidance. Especially since we don’t actually know where we’re going, and you seem to be collecting enemies at every port.”

It was rare that Anetra let any doubts show. For her sake, Sasha put on a playful smile.

“Is your tireless spirit of adventure already waning, Miss Reyes? For shame. You are not yet one-and-twenty.”

“Tsk, worry about your own spirit, captain,” Anetra said, back to her usual cockiness. “I am in my prime.” She took a half step forward and rested her hand on the dresser behind Sasha. With her free hand, she lifted Sasha’s wrist to her eyes and examined the streak of soil staining her skin. She lifted an eyebrow. “Dirty business, these prayers of yours.”

“I know you don’t believe in this, Miss Reyes,” Sasha said with a level voice, even as she felt her own heartbeat held in Anetra’s hand, “but I have done this same ritual for every voyage since I could talk, like my mother before me, and we have always returned to shore.”

“So have I, and I couldn’t pray a Hail Mary if Satan was stabbing my ass with his pitchfork.”

Laughter bubbled up in Sasha’s stomach, and it died in her throat when Anetra leaned in so close that Sasha could see the precious gold in her eyes.

“Do you know why we’ve come back every time?” Anetra said, every word felt on Sasha’s skin. “Sheer. Dumb. Luck.” She shrugged. “The sea doesn’t care if it chews us up and spits us back out as chum for the sharks.”

Sasha sighed with fond exasperation. Years and years of debate, all in vain. She knew that Anetra could not understand. She hadn’t been marked by the Sea.

In the beginning, Sasha’s hackles would rise at Anetra’s blatant disrespect for the Deities. She even worried they would get offended, and make Sasha’s ship pay for it. But time went by with nothing more severe than a storm to get through, and since Anetra’s skills far outweighed her blasphemous ways, she quickly became Sasha’s second. Sasha even learned to find the humor in her tirades against faith, and by now the debate was nothing more than a mental exercise for them both.

Sometimes, when she felt particularly melancholic and missed her mother, Sasha would have liked to have someone who understood. Someone who could look out to the Sea, infinite in its power and in its generosity, and see the benevolent Deity she saw. Someone who would kneel by her side in the middle of a storm, and pray.

Anetra did not pray to any gods. But she could read and draw maps like no one else, and make Sasha laugh like no one else, and that was more than enough.

“Have you come here to question my faith, or to do your job?”

“I can do both, ma’am. It’s why I am an exceptional quartermaster,” Anetra replied with that damn smile of hers. She gestured towards the desk in the corner. “After you.”

Sasha moved the thick captain’s log to the side and put out a pen and an ink well for Anetra, who sat at the desk. Anetra then got a square of paper out of a drawer, and carefully unfolded it to reveal an unfinished map.

Clearing her throat, Sasha turned her back to Anetra. It had been happening for weeks, but this part still made her stomach tighten.

Sasha unbuttoned her shirt, willing her hands to be firm and not tremble. She dropped the shirt on a corner of the desk, then crossed her arms over her chest. The room was cold, but beyond that, it felt wrong to be uncovered like that. She knew that, in reality, it did not matter. Even the women in her crew left their chests bare on hot days, and nobody looked at them twice. But Sasha could not join them.

“I’ll be quick, ma’am,” Anetra said with the gentle tone that her voice rarely donned, followed by the scratch of pen on paper.

Sasha simply nodded and tried to distract herself from Anetra’s eyes burning her skin. She focused on the sounds of the crew that floated down to her chambers. The first day back at sea was always hectic. Everyone was busy and happy to be so; soon they would have a spell of windless days, and that would make things impossibly dull. She wished they could have spent another day on shore, but the news about her seemed to be traveling quite fast. The people that had chased her earlier were not the same ones who had been asking about her back in Tortuga.

“All done.”

Sasha reached for her shirt blindly and cleared her throat. She dressed quickly, speeding through the buttons until she was covered again.

She turned around, and caught Anetra trying to hide her obvious stare. The knot in Sasha’s stomach got tighter.

“Anything new today?”

Instead of replying, Anetra showed her the new tracings of ink she had copied from the mark on Sasha’s back.

“Not much, ma’am. Likely because you stayed on land for some days, and we haven’t traveled far since the last time. But these,” she pointed at the irregular beginnings of some small scattered shapes, careful not to smudge the ink. “look like islands. We should reach them within the next three days.”

Sasha nodded and frowned at the ever growing map. These were unfamiliar waters. It made her uneasy, even if she trusted her Deities to guide them. She couldn’t imagine embarking on this journey like Anetra did, with nothing to put her faith into.

“I need to compare this with the maps we have. Do you mind if I take them to my quarters?”

“Stay here. You don’t have a desk, you should use mine.”

“My, the quartermaster shut up with the captain in her very own bedchamber?” Anetra said teasingly, raising her eyebrow. “What will the crew think?”

“That you are doing the job you get paid for, Miss Reyes,” Sasha retorted, trying to regain some semblance of authority. “I need to go up anyway, and you can work in peace down here. I’ll be gone in a moment.”

Anetra nodded, but then she looked at the map and she was gone from the world. She searched with familiarity through the drawers of the desk and pulled out papers and tools. The map she was making got laid out next to a complete one for comparison, so she could add to it the names of cities and some details of the land that were not visible in Sasha’s mark.

Sasha watched the ink trace new lines for a moment before her eyes moved up the blue lines of Anetra’s veins, tensed up as she worked. The woman always got a small frown when she focused, and when she wasn’t muttering to herself, her lips formed a pout. Sasha tore her eyes from them, and picked up the plate under her dresser to throw the water out the window.

“I’m going up. Breakfast will be ready in under an hour. Should I tell the cook to send you some?”

“Huh? No, that won’t be necessary,” Anetra said, her eyes glancing up momentarily from the map. “I will join you as soon as I’m done.”

Sasha nodded, but Anetra was engrossed in her drawings again. Sasha left the room, closing the door quietly, and made a note to herself to send someone down with breakfast for her.

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Predictably, Anetra did not resurface until well after breakfast was over. She squinted her eyes at the sun, too bright after hours spent in the dim light of the bedchamber.

Sasha watched her roam the deck from her vantage point, up in the rafters. It wasn’t so high up that she would crack her skull if the wind changed suddenly and she fell, but it was high enough that no one would need anything from her for a minute.

As always, she could make an exception for Anetra.

Sasha whistled and Anetra looked up, finding her quickly and grinning before taking to the web of ropes and masts like a jungle cat. In a moment, she let herself plop down by Sasha’s side, her hair blowing gently in the sea breeze.

They shared in the relative silence of wind and waves. The relentless demands of the ship under their charge could not reach them up there. They had only themselves and the wide blue sea, stretching endlessly beyond them with infinite promise. It made Sasha feel young again. There wasn’t a place on earth where she felt more at home than right there.

“I did not mean to mock you, earlier,” Anetra broke the silence after some moments. Sasha looked at her, curious. “I know the ritual is important to you. I do not…” she paused, seeming to search for the words. She shook her head, making the string of coins that adorned her hair clink together. “At any rate, if the sea or… something, has marked you from birth, if there is something drawing a God-honest treasure map on your skin every day, then something or someone wants you to live.” Anetra finally met her eye. She shrugged. “I am just not used to any Gods watching over me.”

Sasha took in the words, the sad resignation.

“They do.”

Instead of the usual eye roll, Anetra kept her eyes firmly on the skyline.

“They do, Anetra,” Sasha pushed a little more, her hand inching closer to Anetra’s on the mast that held them. “I know they care for you.”

That seemed to shake Anetra out of her uncharacteristic abstraction, and a forced smile broke through her stoic expression.

“As long as they care for my captain, I should be fine, right?”

But her voice lacked the usual mirth. Filling her lungs with sea air, Sasha dared to take Anetra’s hand.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

Anetra raised her eyebrow.

“How you can put yourself in the hands of something so powerful, and believe it uncaring.” The hand under Sasha’s stiffened up, but she kept going. “We risk so much out here. Our lives depend on this crew of mostly strangers, we barely have enough to eat and drink. We bear disease and pirate attacks and our shelter can be snapped into splinters by a single storm. Don’t you want something to believe in? To put your faith in?”

The wind whistled around them, tangling their tendrils of hair together. Anetra turned her hand around to hold Sasha’s.

“I put my faith in you.”

It stole the air from Sasha’s lungs. She stared into the gold flecked eyes and sank to the bottom of their depths.

The yelling of the crew below reminded them that they were on borrowed time, and there would be much to do before they could sneak away together again.

“We should get down,” Anetra said, taking back her hand.

“After you.”

Anetra stood up and wrapped her hands in rope to swing down, reckless in her youth. Before she could jump off the mast, her captain called her:

“Miss Reyes?”

Anetra turned her head.

“Thank you. I do not take what you said lightly.”

Anetra gave her a nod.

“Of course, captain.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving Sasha in her nest of wood and wind. She took one last moment to breathe, and then she climbed down the ropes.

#sashnetra #my beloveds <3 #captain sasha means everything to me #my fics #d #m #tattoo au

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booburry · 1 year ago

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Pivot Dieter Bravo x F!Reader one shot; NSFW 18+

Summary: Dieter hasn't been able to keep his eyes off you since the beginning of filming and, more recently, his hands. But when faced with something you had suspected but not truly understood the severity of, it left you two parted with tension high. After a particularly hard day on set, instead of going for his normal vices, Dieter decides to seek you out instead.

A/N: I honestly started writing this when I hadn't even finished the movie yet. I have a soft spot for troubled souls, especially tortured artists and that is just what I hyper fixated on with Dieter. Long time lurker of Mr. Pascal's work but recent embracer of his universe of characters...finding myself with a WIP for every character I consume content for. I know I am in trouble but I fully welcome the chaos.

Content: drug addiction, smut with emotions, pool time = sexy time, Dieter is a little bit of a dirty boy, dick suckin', pussy lickin' and some good ol' fuckin'.

Word count 3.7k

You continued to swim your laps, trying to only think of placing one arm in front of the other, to hold your breath as long as you could, but your mind was on him.

What a waste of talent…fuckin’ drugs, you thought to yourself with frustration, breaking your concentration and causing you to lose the rhythm of your body and steady breath. You broke your stride and floated in the water, your eyes rising to look at the ceiling.

“Right when I was starting to enjoy the view.” You heard his voice echo within the large room, mixing with the light splashing of the waves crashing against the edges of the pool. The taunt and teasing tone he liked to speak to you present, and you could already picture the mischievous smirk his lips would hold.

Yet when you turned in the water to face him, that expected expression shifted. Either he was still affected by the day’s events—you had heard from the crew about his interaction with the director on set—or his mind was on the last time you two saw each other a few nights prior.

He had finally ‘convinced’ you to come back to his room, but truly you felt like he had suffered enough from your teasing and withholding that he deserved relief—but the night ended as neither of you thought. His place had been a mess, empty baggies and booze bottles stacked on top of dirty plates, clothes with stains all over the floor, blankets and pillows all over the place.

What drew your attention the most was the haunting paintings on the numerous canvases leaning against the walls. They were beautiful, and skillfully done but sad and depressing and…almost disturbing to see the raw emotion of the man who acted with such reckless bravado.

“You need help.” You muttered as you continued to take in the room before falling to Dieter, his previous boisterous excitement popped like a balloon.

“It was just a thing yesterday…” he tried to lie and look away but as his words failed him, he waved his hand and returned to look at you with his usually hungry and destructive gaze. He stalked towards you, hands outreached to grab your face, his lips closed onto yours, his jaw pressing down to make entry for his tongue.

The way he moaned into your mouth made you quiver, the way his strong hands moved down your neck to wrap around your back had you snaking your arms around his neck, the way he pinned your body to his made you want to fuck him right there, but you opened your eyes for a moment and remembered why you couldn’t.

You released your arms and pushed against his shoulders, untangling your tongues, and unlocking your lips.

“I can’t do this Dieter…I didn’t realize it was—” Your eyes fell to the empty baggies that still had a small amount of white powder in them before forcing your gaze away. This was a dangerous place for you to be. You met his frustrated and guilty gaze and you could tell he knew what you were uncomfortable with. “I can’t risk it.”

You watched him walk halfway down the length of the pool, that night spinning through your mind, every trigger of your senses returning to your body as you felt the need to clarify why you left.

“I’m seven years sober,” you informed him bluntly, pausing a second before softly adding, “mostly cocaine.”

You swim over so that you can hold yourself against the ledge closest to where Dieter now saw. He dropped his sunglasses down to his nose, his eyes wide in surprise for a moment before softening with a flash of guilt. His mouth twitched as he leaned back, putting his glasses back up to cover his eyes.

“I didn’t know…” he muttered, shifting within his seat in a way you knew well. Guilt, shame, frustration of the iron grip that shit had on your state of being…angry that it’s getting in the way of something else you wanted.

“You couldn’t have. I, uh…also didn’t realize how bad it was for you.” You hesitated a moment to say your last thought but with a glance back at Dieter to see his glasses removed, his bloodshot and wide eyes staring at you with desperation, you knew you had to continue. “Didn’t realize how much I…cared.” You felt your tongue roll in your mouth at the word, fighting to hide the growing smirk at how his expression softened, his lips curled back into that intoxicating mischievous grin of his at the word you hesitated to speak.

“You like me?” He playfully asked, his tongue pressing against the back of his teeth as he proudly smiled. You just playfully shrugged, smirking at him, and trying not to blush with the way he watched you until his expression shifted and your expression neutralized. “You think I have a problem?” He defensively asked, but you knew not to take offence and where that wall came from.

“I had read things before but then seeing it Deiter, I won’t lie that it doesn’t have me concerned.” He looked away from you with an exaggerated purse of his lips before he reached out and put back on his glasses.

“I’m not stupid, I see the articles and tweets, or whatever, about me.” He admitted to you with heavy distaste, his previous engagement with you released as he slammed into the back of the chair. “Call me a ‘has been’… ‘washed up’, so if I couldn’t appease them, I figured why not just play the part.” He confessed, saturated and dripping with self-loathing energy, his arms laid out beside him, palms up, as if he was carrying the invisible and unbearable weight his talent had brought him.

“You don’t want that.” You told him slowly, challenging him in the way you always did, telling it to him straight and unfiltered, always smiling at the look of shock mixed with excitement he gave you when you did. “Besides, your art is beautiful, and you will find that your line work will be a bit cleaner and the overall look will be sharp—”

“It’s my art style.” He interjected, his celebrity dickish defence involuntarily coming out again. Unfortunately for him, you knew what you were talking about with this topic.

“I know the style you are going for, and your lines could be cleaner.” You boldly informed him with a smirk, Dieter letting out a huff of annoyance, shifting his frustration of the situation to this disagreement instead of facing or accepting his substance misuse.

“How the fuck do you know anything about any of this.” He hissed at you but you just smiled. Of course, he would assume you’re just some basic person who was a part of the crew—he couldn’t know any better.

“You aren’t the only tortured creative in this room.” You informed him slowly, pushing off of the ledge to float peacefully in the, now stilled, water. “I had a full ride to The Royal College of Art when I was 16, highest honours, top of my class, all that shit…had a few pieces sell for about a hundred million each for private collections, others already circulating within some museum tours before I was legally an adult. Some of my teachers were calling me a prodigy, but…what do prodigies do?” You asked, moving your body so you were once again upward and treading water.

By the look he gave you, you knew you didn’t need to finish the rest of the story for him to know where it all went, where it left you—riches to rags.

“So, tell me then Dieter,” You said as you slowly swam back to the ledge before him, “do you think you have a problem?” You made sure your voice was soft, free of judgement or implication, and you patiently waited as you watched his eyes flicker, his lips twitch, and his nostrils flare, as he thought of his answer.

“Ask me that question before you walked out my door a few nights ago and I would have said no, told you to fuck off and suck a dick.” He told you, the corner of his lip twitching into a smirk at his vulgarity before it faltered, Deiter hesitating a moment before adding. “Now I’m thinkin’ about it, maybe.”

“If you’re worried about the public, they love a good comeback story—just look at Robert Downey Jr.” You told him with a soft smile, wanting to encourage him to see it wasn’t hopeless despite how bleak you knew it felt for him to imagine life without them…without the drugs. “Plus…” You spoke in your sultry tone, bringing one arm off the ledge and to your back, lightly pulling on your strings. “You get this in replace of those.”

You lifted your top over your neck and whipped the wet piece of clothing at Dieter, causing him to bring his arms up to shield his face.

“Hey, that’s the money maker!” He jokingly yelled before snatching your swimsuit top into his hands, gripping them tightly before he looked at you, the realization of what you had done setting in.

“Best watch out then.” You told him before whipping your bottoms at him too and pushing off the ledge to swim to the middle of the pool, ensuring to turn your body, the round top of your ass raised out of the water, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“I’ll watch that, for sure.” He informed you, already standing up and taking off his housecoat, tossing his glasses aside, the sound of them skittering across the tile floor echoing inside the room.

“You can look at a much closer distance.” You teased him and Dieter immediately jumped into the pool, tearing off his shirt and throwing it into the water, pressing his feet against the bottom of the pool floor to run to you between chaotically taking off his pants. A lighter, money, his wallet, hotel card key and phone all fell from his pockets and when you tried to tell him he shook his head.

“I don’t give a fuck about that shit.” Then his lips were on yours, just like they had been the other night, but this time more desperate, more vulnerable, less controlled. It was easy for you to give in this time, you couldn’t smell or taste any alcohol on him, and you had seen his eyes were clear despite looking tortured—you knew he was sober.

And you could immediately feel his excitement start to lightly press against your thigh before it grew firmer, larger…harder. It felt huge and you had to tear your lips away from his to see for yourself what thing was pressing against you. You could hear Dieter huff a proud chuckle, knowing exactly what pulled your attention.

Unfortunately, the water distorted what was below and you couldn’t get a good look, but from what you felt and with that smug smile of his, you swallowed hard at the treat he had in store for you.

Let’s just hope that mouth of his moves as well as it smiles, you think to yourself before pulling on his neck to float your body back to his, locking your lips together one last time before pushing up on his shoulders. You took a few short breaths, then one long one before plunging yourself into the water to get a proper look.

The view was worth the effort, his full length in sight, right in front of your face, the head slightly curved away from you to point at his soft belly. Your eyes fell to the faint tummy trail that led to the thing that taunted you, the thing that you wanted more of, the thing you would take.

Still submerged and feeling fine for breath, you reached your arms out to grip the sides of his hips and pulled your body closer to his, opening your mouth and quickly inserting his cock into it—fearing if you were to only tease him you would forget you were underwater and start choking. You felt his body twitch at the sensation before relaxing into it, and then taking control.

His hand was in your hair, gripped and forcing your rhythm and motion—you expected nothing less from a twisted man like Dieter, and you felt his hold on you dampen you in a way a pool couldn’t.

You tapped on his skin when you feared you were being held under for too long and he did not hesitate to masterfully maneuver your weightless body so that your head was above the water, your legs wrapped around his torso and your tits immediately in his face and around his lips.

“God,” you manage to mutter once you could stop coughing up the small amount of pool water you inhaled, feeling his mouth close over your nipple, his tongue swirling and firmly pressing in, his teeth clenching down. The one hand that held you pressed your stomach into him, forcing your back to curve as his face pushed further into your chest, bending you backwards.

You felt the tip of him at your opening and you couldn’t help but rock your hips to lightly press his tip into you before dragging it against you until it reached your clit, repeating the motion until you felt Dieter bite down hard, a pleasurable gasp pulled from your lips.

Water moved past your body as he walked you both to the closest ledge, Deiter easily lifting you out of the water to rest your ass on the ledge, pushing your legs open before you could grasp what he was doing, only for him to provide evidence to your prior internal question: Yes, his lips were as skilled as his smile lead you to believe.

The flat of his tongue immediately pressed against your clit, his hands wrapped under and over your thighs, pushing down on your lower stomach in a way that allowed him to have you deeper within his mouth. His lips clasped onto you, his tongue flicking and sucking, his efforts coaxing loud animalistic groans and twitches from your body. He moaned against you, pleased.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he told you as he pressed the tip of his tongue against you with an amount of pressure that rode the cusp of being too painful, but instead of making you recoil, he sent ripples of pleasure through your body as he dragged the tip of his tongue down your slit and into you. You could feel his tongue press against your walls, his lips and teeth pressing into you so that he could get every possible part of him inside of you, taste you, tease you.

All you wanted was something larger to replace in there.

“Please, Dieter.” You managed to beg and you felt his lips smile against you in response, his tongue giving one last, pronounced, lick before leaving you.

“Didn’t I ask to hear you?” He clarified, pulling himself out of the water enough to have his face next to yours.

“Other people may—”

“I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” He cut you off, a darkness setting in behind his gaze, and you knew what he was chasing, seeking, in this moment. You understood it well. “Let them watch, 'cause until I make you scream so loud that someone could hear us, I won’t fuck you.”

Half unbelieving, half extremely turned on by the notion, you watched Dieter to determine if he was being serious or not with his request, but it only took a second for you to realize just how serious he was. You smiled, playfully dragging your teeth along his nose, letting them clamp down with a defined, and resounding, chomp.

“What’re you waiting for?” You teased him, putting the tips of your fingers onto the top of his head before pushing him down as you leaned your body back, your aching cunt eager for his tongue and lips once more.

But he surprised you as he slipped two fingers into you, his mouth and tongue finding your clit again. You followed his request and audibly let him know how shocked and pleased his antics left you, your breath becoming shallow and short as his fingers moved within you and his tongue around you, leaving you just wishing to feel his cock in you.

You loathed and loved how he was making you work for it.

He moved in you, causing your body to heavily twitch and a guttural moan to escape you as your stomach lurched you forward, crying out his name loud enough that you were sure the echo left the corridor, and from the smile you felt against your pussy and the new vigour he moved with, you felt Dieter shared the same thoughts.

Every motion of his fingers, his mouth, his lips, or tongue had more moans coaxed from you, your hips constantly squirming until they started to stutter, your mind wanting to scream yet your throat tightening along with the rest of the muscles in your body.

“Let it out.” He demanded with a growl and a forceful twist of his fingers, causing you to immediately release everything.

“God, Dee—fuck-AH!” You yelped as you felt your legs start to twitch, a feeling rising in you that you had not felt before, a sudden panic rising as he made you feel better and better until you felt yourself crash against a force you could not handle, not withhold. You watched as Deiter gave an open-mouthed smile as you squirted and twitched against him.

Before you could say anything, he dunked himself under the water, pushing himself off of the pool floor and springing his body out of the pool to position himself over you, his knees pressed against your thighs, holding your legs open for him to view.

“My room?” You ask, wanting where this was heading but not in his room. Dieter just smiled at you softly before looking down to grab his cock and slide it along your cunt.

“No.” He softly denied, his vision fixed elsewhere as he changed the rhythm of his stroking to lightly press into your clit every time he graced it, but you felt your body stiffen—you couldn’t go back to his place. “You don't gotta do anything, sweetheart,” he told you with a smile, sensing your hesitation, his eyes meeting yours again, “just lay there, look beautiful…and bite down on this." He instructed you as he placed his thumb between your teeth and slowly pressed himself into you.

Biting down onto his thumb, you let out a soft whimper as you felt him stretch you, saw him wince at how tight you are around his girth, and the release of pleasure melt across his face as he felt himself fill you. He paused for a moment, his body not moving but you could feel him twitch inside of you, the muscles in his stomach giving away to his efforts.

“Close those pretty lips of yours.” He gently asked you, his gaze softening as his eyes darkened once more as he watched you follow his request, your lips wrapped around his thumb that was clenched between your teeth, your cunt taut and throbbing around his cock. “Look at how beautiful you are with your holes wrapped around me…bet you’d look pretty with another man’s dick in that mouth, too.” He whispered, bringing his torso to lean over you, his lips to your ear. “Feeling your tight, perfect, cunt around me…I think it’s the closest to God I’ve ever been.”

His confession was timed with his hips rocking out and back into you with a force that could shake the earth, your whole body stiffening as you bit down so hard on his thumb you thought you tasted blood, a deep and pained moan begging to escape your closed mouth.

“So beautiful.” He praised you, his dark and dangerous eyes raking over your face that was twisted with pain and pleasure, your tits jolting along with your body that helplessly rocked every time he slammed into you. You felt his tongue trace the side of your neck until he nibbled on your earlobe. “I wanna fuckin’ hear your pretty voice. Let me hear how desperate you are for me.” He growled into your ear.

Immediately your lips parted, teeth still clenched on his thumb. With each untethered, mind-numbed, or brainless groan, scream, and moan escaping your body you felt his pace quicken to match your short and shallow breaths, pressing into you for the length of each exclamation of pleasure you made.

It was unbearable to think you would have to stop feeling this way, that there would come a time when you wouldn’t feel his cock inside of you, his wet body boxing you in…it all left you wishing you could have Dieter fuck you here, like this, until your heart gave way.

As he has said, truly, the closet to God you had ever felt was when Dieter’s hard cock slammed against your back wall, his thumb pinned your teeth, pressed against your tongue, his lips on your neck, biting into you like he needed more of your flesh than he already had.

“Fuck, baby, what’ve you done to me?” Deiter gasped into your neck, his breath heavy as he kept thrusting his cock into you. You grinned, letting your head fall back, your body happily rocking with every forceful motion. You wrap your lips around his thumb, releasing it from your grip but sucking it with all your force as you slowly removed it from your mouth.

“Just admit this pussy is better than any drug or high you’ve had.” You tell him, rolling your face to meet his gaze, his pace slowing slightly as he took you and your words in before giving a soft smile.

“Taste’s better, too.” He told you, his thumb pressing down on your chin as his tongue licked into your mouth, his lips gently running over yours before he, once again, placed his thumb into your teeth. “Now, be a good girl and let me feel that perfect pussy clench around my cock again.”

#dieter bravo #dieter x reader #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #the bubble #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #dieter bravo x f!reader #pedrohub #pedro pascal fandom #booburry writes

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xombiriot · 11 months ago

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TOP 3 Metal Albums I Enjoyed from 2023

A lot of great metal came out this year and it was hard to narrow it down to my Top 3. There were some great EPs released this year— Spiritbox’s The Fear of Fear, Brand of Sacrifice’s Between Death and Dreams and Knosis’s The Eternal Doom among them. Singles I enjoyed include: "On the Verge" by thrown, “Masterpiece” by The Anchor, “Enemy” by The Gentle Men (ft. Andy Cizek), “Weight of the World” by Harper (ft. We Came as Romans and Brand of Sacrifice), “Viking” by Slaughter To Prevail, "III" by DEATHPHONK (Nik Nocturnal's weird project); and Knocked Loose had the double, “Deep In the Willow”/“Everything is Quiet Now”.

My Top 5 honourable mentions: 5. [m]other by Veil of Maya, their newest does everything I want it to do, good riffs, cool effects, great vocals; 4. Soul Elegy by Termina, Nik Nocturna, Andy Cizek and friends deliver an awesome metal album; 3. Chaos Horrific by Cannibal Corpse is a strong entry and shows why they're still so loved after so long; 2. The Fox and the Bird by Ok Goodnight mixes folk, rock, metal and whatever else they want to create this really entrancing album; and 1. Take Me Back to Eden by Sleep Token is one of the albums I listened to the most because it's easy to put on when you're tired of being relentlessly pummelled by deathcore, but though its highs are super high, it just misses out landing on my top 3 because there are a few spots it lags

3. ...And Everything In Between - Unprocessed

Manuel Gardner Fernandes has quickly become one of my favourite guitarists between this release and Unprocessed's previous album Gold. The combination of styles on this album exemplify modern metal: bludgeoning heaviness, thumpy prog riffing (à la Animals As Leaders or Polyphia) and a mix of harsh and clean vocals. Despite the polish of these 9 tracks, some express such raw emotion and a ferocity that they really get me hyped up. The variety of tones and vocals kept me engaged throughout, and they blend and balance heaviness and melody so well. The guitar sounds so angry sometimes–especially the part of "Thrash" where Manuel beats the shit outta his guitar after screaming, "But you're just a fucking lie!" I love that. Other songs like "Blackbone" and "Die on the Cross of the Martyr" continue the trend of excellent instrumentation, the latter featuring guest solos by Polyphia's Tim Henson and Scottie Lepage. It's so well done and so engaging. In the short time I've had this album, it's become one of my favourites of 2023.

2. Periphery V: Djent Is Not A Genre - Periphery

When Periphery released "Wildfire" as a single I immediately bought into what they were selling. The way they transition through the various parts is seamless, the mix of vocal techniques and the jazzy interlude are all fantastic. It really captures the spirit of the whole record. Songs like "Dying Star" and "Zagreus" are also so hard. Periphery continues to show off their musical dexterity, and the band members prove once again they're not only some of the best musicians djenting their way through the world but as a collective they add up to more than the sum of their parts. My hottest take when it comes to this album is that I love "Silhouette" — it's like if you ran 80s soft rock and 90s/00s boy bands through a progressive music filter. I think they wrote this song and put it on the album just to prove they can do anything. And if Periphery is Djent, and Djent isn't a genre then why shouldn't they go in every genre direction they want to explore?

1. War of Being - TesseracT

In other years this top 3 could have been entirely deathcore or melodeath or metalcore, but this year it was djenty prog metal through and through. It's the music I gravitated to the most this year and nobody did it better than TesseracT. Daniel Tompkins vocals are incredible throughout, his cleans sounding particularly great on "Echoes" – giving us one of the best choruses before following it up with another great one on "The Grey". The album offers engaging lyricism throughout and the instrumentation is at a pedigree one would expect for a band in the vanguard of this genre. The album gives us atmospheric moments, synths, meditative passages before blasting us with metal. In many ways the whole album does what the best tracks on Sleep Token's Take Me Back To Eden do. Each song and the album as a whole provide an expansive experience. And that's why it's my number one. More than any other album released this year, TesseracT's War of Being makes me want to sit down and listen to it from beginning to end.

Other great albums: SUPERBLOOM by Silent Planet; Fatalism by Polaris; Feral by Left To Suffer; Foregone by In Flames; Ashen by Humanity's Last Breath; The Sin of Human Frailty by END; Symptoms of Survival by Dying Wish; and The Death We Seek by Currents.

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littleperilstories · 2 years ago

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The Prince of Thieves: When the Snow Falls

Warnings: HA nothing scary today. SO THERE. Like the F&F Christmas episode story, I also wrote this one pretty fast, and since I wanted to post it TODAY (it's still Christmas in my time zone...barely), it didn’t get much editing. Beware of typos and bad sentences; feel free to let me know if you find any. 😂 Enjoy!

OH! And just for funzies, this Christmas special is written in third-person, past-tense! Surprise!

TPOT Masterlist

Word count: 1348 || Approx reading time: 5 mins

Teaser: Jamie nodded, making his father laugh, and from the other side of the room, there was a soft sigh and sleepy moan. Cringing, Jamie glanced back at his brother to see if he’d woken up at the sound of laughter. Luckily, he still seemed fast asleep.

All the neighbourhood children, thought Jamie Wardrew, were going to collectively lose their heads when they woke up. Everything, from the streets to the trees to the rooftops, was covered in pristine white snow. Fat flakes were drifting through the watery light of sunrise, painting lazy arcs in the air as they blanketed the world in white. Jamie stood next to his dad by the window and echoed the peaceful, contented sigh that fogged the old, warped glass windowpane of the family’s rented townhouse.

“Better appreciate the quiet now, son.” Dad rested his brown, calloused hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Once the little ones wake up, this entire street will be in utter chaos.”

Jamie rubbed his eyes and glanced at the dimly lit room behind them. Ma was already at the fire, warming cider made from autumn’s plump red apples. The steaming spiced cider was for their dad, to drink and to warm his hands with before he departed for work. The “little one” of their family was still sprawled on the cot he shared with his brother, half out of his rumpled bed sheets with his limbs splayed in all directions. His freckled face was uncharacteristically tranquil, eyes partially veiled by too-long auburn hair.

When Will awoke and saw how much snow had fallen overnight—the first big snow after several weeks of gloomy, icy rain—he was likely to shatter something with the force of his pure, unrestrained excitement.

“Can I come with you to work?” Jamie mumbled, thinking ahead to the shrieks that would be echoing off the houses and cobblestone streets for the rest of the day. In the warmer seasons, his dad travelled with a large company of labourers, building the railroad, but once winter blasted in with its frigid winds and mountains of snow, he went to work for an old friend who was a foreman in a factory on the outskirts of town.

When Dad looked down at him, a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’d rather shovel coal into a furnace all day than play in the snow or help prepare dinner?”

Jamie nodded, making his father laugh, and from the other side of the room, there was a soft sigh and sleepy moan. Cringing, Jamie glanced back at his brother to see if he’d woken up at the sound of laughter. Luckily, he still seemed fast asleep.

“I’ll do a good job,” Jamie promised, turning back to his dad. “I’m pretty strong. And I can work fast.”

With another chuckle, his dad pressed into the scrawny muscle of his upper arm. “You sure about that?” He shot his hand up to tickle the soft spot of his underarm. “You absolutely sure?”

“Dad!” Jamie bit back a fit of giggles and pulled away, still hesitant to rouse Will.

“Jamie,” said Dad in a matching tone, shaking his dark curls. “The factory’s no place for a boy your age. Stay here and have some fun.”

Imagining again the pandemonium the day would bring—screaming voices and flying snowballs and rolling, rollicking bodies and hats and scarves getting lost in the chaos—Jamie shuddered.

“If you’re not interested in fun,” Dad teased, “then stay in and help Ma with the cooking.”

Neither of Jamie’s two options were particularly desirable, but one involved louder screaming and more rough-and-tumble scuffles in the snow than the other. “All right.”

“But maybe keep an eye on him once he goes out,” Dad said, jerking his head toward Will. “Or he’ll get into some kind of mess.”

As if he’d heard and understood somehow that Dad was talking about him, Will bolted upright in bed, sending the pillow careening to the floor. “Go out where?” Even with a drowsy look on his face as he rubbed his eyes, his voice rang through the air, loud as church bells.

“Shh,” Dad said, beckoning him over. “Come look outside.”

Will scrambled off the cot and tried to dash across the room to the window, but one foot was tangled in the blanket. His limbs flailed wildly as he tried unsuccessfully to catch his balance before he tumbled over into a heap on the floor.

“Oh, Will,” said Ma, shaking her head and taking a step back as she took the pot of cider from the fire. “Be careful.”

Will cackled as he freed himself from the woollen blanket. “Oops.”

Laughing despite himself, Jamie crossed the room to help his brother to his feet. “Slow down, won’t you?”

“No, you slow down.” Will tore away and leapt into Dad’s arms. “What are we—” His words halted as he gazed through the glass and glimpsed the glistening world outside. “Ohhhh.”

As much as Jamie tried to amass his irritation, he found only the tattered dregs of it. His brother was annoying, but his awe was admittedly adorable. Will’s hazel eyes, perfect twins to Dad’s, were wide as saucers as he took in the snowy scene. “It snowed for Christmas?”

“Wasn’t that nice of me and Ma to arrange that for you?” Dad asked, gently setting his younger son back on the floor. “Will you go out and play in the snow today?”

“YES!”

The shrill affirmation pierced the air, a crack of winter thunder splitting the morning’s peace. Dad winced, and Ma spilled some of the apple cider at the sound.

“Will,” Jamie said with a sigh, “shut up. It’s only sunrise. Some folks are still sleeping.”

“I gotta tell everyone about the snow!”

Crossing the room, her mismatched stockings padding on the rough-hewn floorboards, Ma pressed the steaming cider into Dad’s grateful hands. She knelt down next to her youngest son, grasping his fluttering fingers in hers. “Will. Can you listen for a moment?”

When Will kept bouncing, seeming not to hear their mother’s question, Jamie picked up one of his brother’s abandoned socks from the floor, crushed it into a ball, and hurled it at his head.

Dad nearly spit out his cider. “James!”

Jamie shrugged. It had done the trick: Will was glaring at him, but he’d stopped fidgeting long enough to listen to Ma.

“I don’t mind if you want to go out and play in the snow today,” she said gently. “It really is beautiful outside, isn’t it? A perfect gift from Mother Nature for Christmas.”

“I know! It’s amazing!” Will began to bounce on the balls of his feet again, and Jamie scanned the floor for another sock, but Ma managed to keep his little brother’s attention with a few soft taps on his arm.

“Dad’s got to go to work.” She brushed his moppy hair from his eyes. “So he can’t go out and play with you. Jamie can, but I might need his help around here sometimes.”

Quick as lightning, she winked at Jamie as if to say, You don’t need to spend the entire day dodging snowballs.

“And if that’s the case…” She cupped his rosy cheek in her palm. “You must promise to be very careful while you’re playing with the other children. Can you promise me that, Will?”

Dad downed the rest of his cider. “Remember, William. Once you make a promise, you’re honour-bound to keep it. Right? That’s part of being a grown-up boy.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, but fortunately, neither of his parents noticed.

“Will you promise to be very safe and very kind to the other children while you’re playing in the snow today, Will?” Ma shifted her hand to comb through his sleep-mussed locks with her fingers.

A long silence met her question, hanging between mother and son before Will said with great solemnity, “Yes.”

At the graveness of his son’s tone, Dad muffled a snort of laughter and pressed his teeth into his knuckles.

“That’s my boy,” said Ma, pulling him into a hug. “Can I ask one more thing?”

Still looking serious, Will nodded.

“What d’you think about having breakfast first, before you go play?”

Will’s face broke into a wide, toothy grin. Jamie found himself smiling right along. He knew what his little brother was about to say.

“YES!”

Tagging: @gala1981 - if you’re not into Christmas you can totally skip this! (Sorry again starlit! I’ll remember next time. I was wayyyy too excited to post this on actual Christmas.)

#lps the prince of thieves #oc will wardrew #oc jamie wardrew #christmas #christmas story #this one totally doesn't count as whump #flashback #wardrew babies #lps-writes #lps-christmas

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richardxoliverxmayhew · 11 months ago

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SPOTS TO KISS + 18, 22, 39, 40, 43, 44, 45, 46, 49, 50, 51, 52

spots to kiss: ACCEPTING

II @vxctorx

His wandering, blue gaze peered up at the other, searching. Searching for an answer to an anxiety-riddled question that had been jostling about in Richard's restless mind. Do ye' remember? It had been years after all. A thousand clock-turns since their days of gold. A million days since their departure. They managed to find one another in the end, it's true, but that didn't mean memories of Richard would have remained nestled in the foreground of the other's mind. Why would it, the Scotsman asked himself. After all, Vic must have gone off to live his glorious and golden life. As far as Richard was concerned echoes of him would be irrelevant to hold onto after all this time. Surely. "Wha' do ye' remember?" he managed to get out through a thick swallow.

This...-- First came his lips pressing along the base of his throat, his adams apple, before wandering across the wide and strapping plane of his collarbone. Richard could feel an exhale wind past his now parted lips. His shoulders instantly relaxed, as if on reflex by the mere touch of Vic's lips. Their touch was just as velvet. Just as rich. Delicate as lace. This...--Wandering lips continued to waltz down the trail of Richard's sternum, before lingering on a certain area that the Scotsman had forgotten would make his mind dizzied with the warm glow of ecstasy. "...Vic..." His words were rasped. Breathless as he felt his love's touch paint against his chest and pec. Richard's strong hands gently cupped the other's torso closer as he closed his eyes and let out a quiet moan. This...--The kisses didn't stop. They didn't dare. They began to paint against the skin of Richard's stomach and his naval. He was a lot more toned down there than when he and Vic were but mere boys, yet the memories remained. How could he forget? A soft smile brushed across Richard's lips as he remembered all of the cheeky kisses and nibbles Vic had stamped against his middle and ribs, just because he could. Richard still remembers their symphony of hushed laughter, whispered promises, and panting moans. This...-- Lower and lower still his lips travelled. Now, such a roaming wanderer decided to reacquaint himself with the curve and drop of Richard's hips. The 'V' of his groin. The sanctity of his firm, inner thigh. The Scotsman's eyes rolled shut. Another moan-- something of a half-breath and Vic's name-- escaped past the hollow of his throat before his hip gave an unconscious thrust. Oh, how he missed this. How he wished to revel in this forever. It truly was a miracle. Even now, Vic managed to cause the likes of Richard Oliver Mayhew to fold with just but a single touch. And this...-- The last stop. The contours and bends of Richard's legs, his knee, calf, and ankle, had certainly changed since he was younger. Just like the rest of him, they were stockier. More used. Built from years of work and wandering. In fact, somewhere against his calf there was a small scar from a wee sprain he once collected. That was a story for another time. There was certainly so many new things to learn about him. About each other. Yet, the old remained, as well. Mainly, as Vic travelled down the firm lines of his calf and ankle, a delightful shiver ran down his spine when he felt the combo of his lips and steady fingers anchoring against the back of his knee; an area he did not realize was particularly sensitive until Vic helped tease the truth out of him.

"After all this time... Ye' remember," hummed Richard, his voice filled with hushed relief as his gentle smile curled against his lips. Fingers began to rake through his love's hair, urging him to peer up. "I remember too." A beat. "... I remember everythin'...."

#vxctorx #//this ended up turning into a drabble oops! 🙈//#//sorry about that my darling!//#//but i hope u like it nonetheless! :'>/#reunion;au #drabble;

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tetsoorou · 3 years ago

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faxing documents

♡ pairings: older timeskip!osamu miya x f!reader

♡ warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! older osamu (like late 40s/early 50s), boss/employee relationship, office sex, implied spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, lil bit of a breeding kink, osamu is a tease, osamu says “good girl” once, rough sex, use of pet names (darling + sweetheart), a hint of exhibitionism, no mention or implication of reader’s age but i wrote this in mind w reader being in their 20s

♡ wc: 960

♡ a/n: just a couple of lil hc’s about dilf ‘samu <3 inspired by the dilf at my work who’s done a couple of these (minus the whole bent over the desk thing) n lit up my imagination hehe. also ik dilf literally starts w “dad” but i decided to not write him w kids ! ahhhh sorry it’s a lil long, this is my first time writing hc’s + realized that keeping things short n sweet is not my strong suit </3

!!! 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱 !!!

dilf!osamu who never had the chance to settle down; just couldn’t seem to find the time between all the work that came with starting and building onigiri miya. atsumu has constantly nagged him about it over the years, always trying to set him up on dates with a friend of a friend of a friend - chastising him with a “yer gonna die alone ‘samu!” when he’d impolitely decline. osamu would eventually give in, if nothing but to shut his brother up, though nothing ever really came of it beyond the occasional second or third date.

dilf!osamu whose hair is starting to revert to the silver color reminiscent of the one he sported in high school when he meets you – in an interview for the lead chef position at the new location he’s opening up in tokyo. not only are you perfect for the job, surpassing every single one of his expectations – but fuck, he thinks you’re the prettiest little thing he’s ever laid eyes on. so naturally, he hires you on the spot.

dilf!osamu who knew he had to have you from the moment his hand brushed against yours in the break room your first week. he had found you struggling with the coffee machine and took the mug from your hands – “here, it’s a little finicky, lemme help ya.” – fingers grazing over your smaller ones in the process. all it took was that one, brief little touch to have you stumbling back out of his way and heat shooting up to your cheeks, body so obviously clueing him in to the little crush you’ve developed. you avert your eyes to the ground and stutter out a quiet “o-oh, thank you.” so cute, he thinks.

dilf!osamu who knows the effect he has on you, making sure to leave little crumbs of attention here and there for you to mull over: a brush of his arm against yours as he watches you cook, a gentle hold on your wrist to reposition your hand while molding the rice, a squeeze on your shoulder as he praises your work. and sure, maybe the way his hand drops from its place on your shoulder to the small of your back as he makes his way to the door is rather unnecessary and a bit too low to be friendly – but you don’t notice. not when he momentarily presses his hips into your back, muttering “excuse me, sweetheart,” right in your ear and watching – delighted – at the way you freeze and your breath hitches in your chest.

dilf!osamu who catches you off guard a few weeks later when you’re complaining to him about it being particularly slow. “well, I could think of a coupla things we could do,” he counters, voice lowering with the idea of something that is definitely a little more than friendly. the implication makes you choke on the water you’re drinking, sputtering out a high-pitched “what?” between fits of coughs and gasps for air. “i have a few documents that need ta be faxed is all,” his soft laugh bounces off the tiled walls and echoes throughout the kitchen as he pats your back. “ya alright there, darlin’?” but he knows – and you question whether you know too – what he really meant.

dilf!osamu who calls you into his office before the shop closes for lunch, something along the lines of him wanting your opinion on a new recipe. but he’s on top of you before the door can even click shut, reaching behind you to lock it as you ask “what are you –“. he cuts you off with the slam of his lips against yours and your eyes remain open, unblinking, for the second it takes you to register the situation, then flutter closed as you curl your hand in the collar of his shirt to pull him harder against you. he only breaks away when you need to breathe, taking the opportunity to guide one of your hands down to the bulge in his pants; “see what ya do ta me?”

dilf!osamu who bends you over his desk, handprint etched into the fat of your ass, gripping bruises into your waist as your juices drip down your legs and onto the papers that were hastily shoved to the floor. he thrusts into you so hard the desk inches forward, the scratch of metal against carpet and your cries the only sounds filling the room. he shoves his fingers in your mouth in an attempt to keep you quiet, not that he’s trying too hard though – he’d be lying if he said the way you’re screaming his name didn’t inflate his ego and go straight to his cock.

dilf!osamu who cums deep inside your cunt with a growl of “good girl” in your ear and pulls your panties back up your wobbly legs for you, sending you out of his office still stuffed full of his cum. “ya better not waste a single fuckin’ drop,” he says, voice hardly above a whisper, corner of his mouth twitching up in a smirk as his cock stirs in his pants at the thought of you walking around with his cum pooling in your panties.

dilf!osamu who tells you to stick around after closing today, and waits for you by the door as you gather your things with a small, yet devilishly handsome smile stretched across his face. he leans against the wall, arms crossed, as he watches you move about, the fabric of his t-shirt – a little too tight – clinging to his biceps and pulling taut across his chest. “lemme take ya out ta dinner,” he says, much more of a declaration than a question - damn well knowing you couldn’t possibly squeak out anything but an eager, breathless “o-okay.”

reblogs, likes, n comments v much appreciated! ♥︎

#毒; my works.#osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu!! x y/n #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu!! x you #hq smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smut

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moonlit-stay · 2 years ago

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Kinktober 2022: Day 25

(Min's Birthday Special <8)

Pairing: Minho x Female Reader

Kink: Exhibitionism

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Soft!Dom Minho, Sub!Fem reader, established relationship, exhibitionism, public sex, hints of mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Please let me know if I missed anything

Color(s) Of This Fic: Black, White, and Dark Red <3

If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this fic. This fic contains inappropriate content and is strictly 18+

Everything in not only this event, but all of my work in general is consensual. Even if not stated within the work.

Enjoy :)

Beautiful, bright, glass light fixtures hang from the ceiling of the restaurant, illuminating the area around you, Minho, and the rest of the boys. A soft, white tablecloth that covers the expanse of the large table, a large bouquet of dark red roses sat carefully in the center, and silverware wrapped in cloth napkins, and tied with red ribbons decorate the space around you. You admire your surroundings, glancing at the seven boys that you've come to call family over the years you and Minho have been together with a loving smile on your face. You look over at Minho, your eyes meeting in a love filled gaze as he mirrors your smile and places his hand gently on your thigh, squeezing the flesh three times as a silent 'I love you'.

Your gazes are both redirected to the waiter bringing everyone's drinks to the table, polite bows and thanks being given to the waiter before he takes everyone's order.

Laughter rings through the space as stories of past events are told, everyone taking turns to tell a story that is particularly fond in their memory as you all wait for your food.

"Jinnie, if you keep eating all the bread, you won't be hungry for your food!" You chuckle, watching as Hyunjin shoves a bite of bread into his mouth.

"It's so good, I can't help it!" He claims, gently swatting at Seungmin's hand when he attempts to take the bread away from Hyunjin.

You peer over at Minho, watching as he quietly observes the chaos that takes place at the table and listens in on everyone's stories, fond smiles and laughter leaving his form every once in a while. Your eyes rake over his features, the way his honey skin glows beautifully under the lights. The way his eyes rapidly blink and dart around the table as he listens. The way his ring clad fingers are intertwined as his hands rest on the table. The way his dress shirt hugs his strong arms but hangs loosely on the rest him. The way his dress pants hug his muscular thighs, the fabric doing little to hide the definition of the muscles.

You press your thighs together, quickly redirecting your eyes as you take a few gulps of your water. Your actions don't go unnoticed by Minho, a slight smirk gracing his features as he watches you try to compose yourself. He leans close to your ear, fumbling with your necklace as to not give you two away.

"You alright, baby? You seem a little worked up." He whispers, a slight grin tugging at his lips as he hears you audibly gulp.

"Me? Oh, I'm ok. I was just, uh, really thirsty is all." You quietly stammer out, setting your half empty glass on the table.

"I see," he sighs out, pulling the clasp of your necklace to rest on the back of your neck. "That's a shame."

"Why?" You question with wide eyes.

He leans dangerously close to your ear, tucking some stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Well, if you were worked up, I was gonna say you could meet me in the bathroom in a few minutes, but seeing that's not the case, don't worry about it, baby." He whispers against the shell of your ear, pressing a quick kiss to the spot before pulling away from you.

"Min, wait-"

He stands from his seat, eyeing you with a knowing look, his signature smirk adorning his features as he makes his way to the bathroom. Your eyes dart around the table, the laughter and chatter still as loud as it was before, despite the feeling of you and Minho's every word echoing through the building as you spoke.

"Y/N?" Chan gently calls, dragging you out of your thoughts.

"Hm?" You answer, your eyes snapping to his direction.

"Where did Minho go?" He asks, catching the attention of the rest of the boys as they all glance around the table.

"Uh, I don't know." You lie, looking at the seat next to you where Minho was sitting moments before. "Let me go try and find him, ok?"

The boys nod at your words, resuming their conversation as you head straight for the bathroom. You quickly knock on the door of the family marked bathroom, hearing Minho quickly undo the lock and all but yank you inside.

He pushes you up against the surface of the door, immediately pressing his lips to yours in a messy, heated kiss. You moan against his lips, hearing him lock the door again before he pulls you into his embrace, his hands trailing along your body until they find purchase on your ass. He walks you both over towards the counter, turning you around in his hold so your back is pressed flush against his chest. His hand comes to gently grab your chin, holding your head so you lock eyes with him through the mirror that is hung above the counter and takes up the expanse of the wall in front of you both.

"You look so beautiful, baby. All dressed up for me and my birthday dinner." He breathes the compliment against your neck, feeling you shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin. "It's a shame I'm gonna have to ruin that pretty makeup of yours."

His hands come down to the hem of your dress, running his pointer finger along the inside of the hem before he bunches the fabric up at your hips. He undoes his belt, the sound of him undoing the metal clasp enough to make you squirm in your place as you tightly press your thighs together. He pulls his dress pants and briefs down just enough to pull his hard length from the confinements, quickly pulling your panties to the side as he runs his tip along your slit.

"God, you're soaked, baby." He groans out, slowly pushing into you.

He places his hand on your back, bending you over the counter as he inches further into you. You let out a whimper at the stretch, hearing him gently shush you.

"Shh, I know, baby." He soothes, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder as he bottoms out.

You sigh out at the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside you, your head falling forward to rest on your arms as he starts thrusting into you, soft moans leaving your lips as his bare length drags against your walls.

"Gotta be quiet for me, baby." He breathes out, wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you back against him.

"Trying," you whine out, feeling him pick up the pace of his thrusts. "You just feel so, so good."

"Yea? This what you wanted, baby?" He asks, punctuating his sentence with a harsh thrust.

"Fuck-" you moan out, your breath getting caught in your throat. "Yes."

He reaches up, grabbing the neckline of your dress and pulling it down until your tits spill out of the fabric, watching them bounce with every thrust of his hips.

"God, you're gorgeous." He groans out, thrusting into you harder. "All for me."

"All for you, Min." You moan out, clamping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle your moans.

Tears of pleasure well in your eyes as Minho angles his hips to hit that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Your eyes shut as you throw your head back, hot tears running down your cheeks as you moan out Minho's name.

Minho replaces your hand with his own, holding you firmly against him as he chases his high. Muffled moans endlessly spill from your lips, growing in pitch with each thrust of his hips as you approach your high.

"Rub your clit for me, baby." He breathes out, watching as you quickly snake your hand between your thighs and rub messy circles against your clit. "Cum with me."

After a few more thrusts of his hips, you cum around Minho's length, your walls pulsating around him as he buries his length deep inside your heat and cums inside you with a moan.

His head falls against your back, his hands gently running up and down your sides as you both catch your breaths. He slowly pulls out of you, catching your mixed release with his middle finger before he slowly pumps it back into you. You jolt at the feeling, instinctively pulling away from him.

"It's ok, baby." He softly coos, running a soothing hand along your lower back before he trails it up to your hip, holding you in place as he continues to pump his digit into your heat. "You gonna keep all this safe for me?"

You nod vigorously in response, a muffled cry leaving your lips at the sting of overstimulation.

"Good," he breathes out, pulling his digit from your heat before shoving it in his mouth and sucking it clean. "Because I'm not finished with you."

Main Masterlist

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

*·°Author's Note°·*

Happy birthday, Min. Love you with my whole entire heart <33

MY GOD I LOVE THIS DAY

Out of all the days for this event, this day was the first day I got an idea for. It came to me while I was working on the plot map and I was SO excited to write it😭😩

°·*Taglist*·°

@kpophubb @whatudowhennooneseesyou @skzgallll

Send me a DM or an ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

·°*Other Tings*°·

Released: October 25th, 2022

Please reblog my works. Share your thoughts if you'd like, even if it's just a simple keyboard smash.

I read every caption, tag, reply, ask, and dm. Feedback is what motivates me to continue to create content <3

#stray kids smut #stray kids smut imagines #stray kids lee know smut #stray kids lee minho smut #lee minho smut #lee know smut #kinktober

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years ago

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Who Loses... Wins - An EZ Reyes/Reader Smut Short.

Teasing cockwarming with EZ? Why, yes. Have at it.

Words - 651

Warnings - Smut below the cut. Under 18? Please do NOT engage!

“Oh god… fuck. You ain’t gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Just because you set me a challenge, it doesn’t mean I can’t counter-screw with you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What an interesting choice of words.”

“Yeah,” you agree, leaning to kiss him. “Kinda obvious in the antithesis of our current situation.”

Squeezing your inner muscles around him again, a saturated clasp against his hot rigidity, you watch EZ bite his lower lip, grunting quietly. Another clench, and his eyes close, a frown creasing his forehead. “God damnit.”

His challenge was to see how long you could sit still with him inside you, no rocking against him, no movement of your body at all that involves you sliding upon his cock for friction. He never stated, however, that you couldn’t give said cock a damned good grasping within the soaking clutch of your walls.

It’s killing you as much as it is him, but you’re loathed to let on, loving that the ace he presumed to have up his sleeve has well and truly been transferred to yours. He’s dying, dying to throw you your back and pound the hell out of you, drag your pussy with brutal, voracious thrusts, but losing and EZ Reyes have never particularly gone well together.

Clench, release. Clench, release.

“Dying to give me the kind of dicking down I’ll still be feeling in a week?”

He snorts, his hand grasping your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, laying kisses at the column of your throat. “Honey, I’ll fuck you so damned hard, your ancestors will feel it. All you gotta do is lose.”

This is a tricky notion to contend with, for someone just as stubborn as he, which is exactly what you are. You could get fucked into oblivion, but you’d lose. Would you, though? You’d get exactly what you want, after all. Your squeezes around him, of course, leave you just as longing as he.

Win, or lose? Win... and get what? To wait for longer, or lose, and get him right now?

“I give up.”

You expect to be set upon with ravenous intent, except that doesn’t happen, EZ instead making his big cock twitch within your heat, evoking a soft gasp of incredulity. “Oh yeah, baby girl. Two can play the twitching game.” Doing it again, he laughs, halting you when you attempt to begin bouncing upon him, strong hands gripping your waist, preventing your movement. Damn him.

“What happened to the ancestor disturbing dicking down, then?”

He chuckles, kissing you, his cock quavering within you a few more times. “I have to make sure you really, really want it before I do.”

“You ain’t gonna make this easy for me, are you?” Your echoing of his earlier statement prompts a smug smirk, EZ pattering his fingers up your spine, his cock flexing again, right against your sweet spots, your little gasp making his insides prickle pleasantly.

“No. I’m gonna make you beg.”

“Bastard.”

“Ah, ah. No name calling, querida, else I’ll force you to sit here on it for hours.”

Damn him, damn him, damn him!

“I want you to fuck me, EZ. I want to feel every last single, solid inch of this gorgeous, long cock piledriving into me, get you all wet with me, fuck, I need it, I need you so badly. Please, I’m begging you. Pound my tight little pussy. I know you love me, but shit, I want you to fuck me like you don’t.”

The surprise isn’t the speed he flattens you onto your back with, it’s the fact that he manages not to lose tangency where you’re deeply fused, his cock only slipping from you a few inches before he ruts with power, daggering into you sharply, forcing a shrill cry from your throat as he goes about rearranging your guts with wickedly furious snaps of his hips, utterly ploughing you into the bed.

Sometimes, losing feels good.

A/N - Did you enjoy it? Rewarding your hard working author with a comment and reblog goes a long way :)

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years ago

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Burning the Midnight Oil | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! My love for Lana Del Rey knows no bounds and I feel like a ton of her music reminds me of Bucky.

If you like what you read, throw me a reblog so that others can find my stuff! 🥰

Wanrings: Bucky’s tragic past, PTSD/ nightmares, feelings

"You don't ever have to

be stronger than you really are

when you're lying in my arms, baby."

The biting cold nudged you awake, dragging you out of your peaceful sleep. A harsh shiver wracked your body as you snuggled deeper under the covers and rolled over to face Bucky, searching desperately for his warmth. Still half-asleep, you pawed at the sheets, but found them empty and cold. The sharp realization that Bucky wasn’t lying next to you stripped all exhaustion from your body and sent your heart pounding.

Discovering that he was absent from the bed in the middle of the night was never good. Sometimes, he rushed out the door for a dangerous, last-minute mission. Other times, he was lying on the floor in the midst of a panic attack, barely able to breathe. The sharp chill bit at your skin as you threw your blankets to the floor and flicked on your bedside lamp, finding the room empty. Bucky’s large form didn’t lie sprawled upon the ground, nor did he inhabit the en suite bathroom. Dread poked holes in your heart as you resigned yourself to that fact that Bucky had left on yet another middle of the night mission.

A disappointed huff echoed through the room as you scooped up your blankets and piled them on top of the bed, wishing he’d woken you to say goodbye. You reached for your phone, hoping that Bucky had at least sent you a text explaining the details of his absence, but a small sound stopped you. Someone quietly cleared their throat in the living room, catching your attention. You’d know that sound anywhere- it was Bucky.

Once again, you ditched your covers. A sharp inhale pierced your chest as you fled the warmth of your bed and high-tailed it in the direction of Bucky’s voice, the cold air nipping at your skin. In the dim living room, Bucky sat in his favorite armchair, quietly reading by the light of a solitary lamp.

“Buck...?” He lifted his head from his book and met your curious gaze, a small smile stretching across his lips.

“Sweetheart, hey. Did I wake you?” He gently folded the corner of his page, leaving a dog-ear to mark his place. He could practically hear your teeth grinding together at the sight of yet another folded page and couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s not one of yours,” Bucky’s metal hand raised the book, showing you the cover, “I promise”.

You gave him a dramatic roll of your eyes and padded in his direction with a smirk- he knew you too well. He laughed once more as you fell into his lap and made yourself comfortable, your body resting perfectly against his.

“You didn’t wake me. I just…I woke up and you weren’t there- I got nervous, that’s all”. Your fingers danced through Bucky’s soft locks, your nails gently scratching against his scalp. His book landed against the floor as he ditched it completely, committing all his attention to you, instead. The strong arms you’d often referred to as ‘home’ wound around you, binding you to Bucky’s warm chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you”, he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a light kiss to your pulse, “I just couldn’t sleep- came out here to read instead.” Alarm bells rang inside your head. Being tired was no longer a temporary state for Bucky- it was a lifestyle. He always fell asleep quickly, even if he didn’t stay that way for long.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No”, he said simply- no explanation, no elaboration. Your hands removed his head from your neck and brought his face up to yours, your eyes narrowing as you stared him down.

“Don’t give me that look”, he pinched at your sides, using your ticklish spots against you, “I’m not lying, doll. I haven’t had one in a while- it must be the adrenaline.” Bucky had returned from a particularly harrowing mission just a day earlier, and explained how his body was still full to the brim with the anxiety and energy that helped get him through. “I’m okay, though. I’m sure I’ll crash soon.”

A strong yawn overpowered you, forcing your head back as exhaustion crept into your bones. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Bucky swept you up into his arms, but you protested- something you never did when he held you.

“If you’re gonna stay up, I wanna stay up with you. I don’t-” another yawn interrupted you, sending Bucky into a fit of laughter. He carried you to bed despite your pushback and got you settled under the covers, smiling as he watched you get comfortable. Bucky watched as your eyes fell slowly shut, losing the fight against sleep in almost record time.

“Come back to bed soon?” you breathed, reaching out for Bucky with your last stores of energy.

“Very soon”, he pressed a kiss to your hand, “promise”. With that, you were out. Bucky tightened the blankets around you just a bit more and left a kiss on your forehead, smiling down at his best girl. He flicked off your bedside lamp and padded quietly out of the room, but not before giving you one last look. He quietly shut the door and retrieved his book from the floor, resuming his place in his favorite chair.

A sharp ray of sun poked at you, rousing you from your deep sleep. A tired groan tumbled from your lips and you rolled over, hiding your face from the morning light. You reached for Bucky’s strong arms, but he was nowhere to be found. He was always waking up earlier than you on the weekends, cooking you breakfast and making sure there was coffee ready when you got out of bed- but the apartment was silent. The smell of coffee didn’t float through the air, nor did you hear Bucky clanging around in the kitchen.

Figuring that Bucky had gone for run, you hopped out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Since he was always making you breakfast, you figured it was time you returned the favor. But just as you turned the corner toward the kitchen, the sound of quiet snoring caught your attention.

Bucky’s limp body still rested in the armchair, his head slumped over to one side. His book lay sprawled against the floor, its pages crinkled against the hardwood. With silent steps, you crept toward Bucky and scooped up his book, placing it gently on the coffee table.

You knew his enhanced hearing would pick up the sounds of you mulling around the kitchen, but you moved as stealthily as possible to get the coffee started. His arms were around you in no time, holding you close as you got the coffeemaker going.

“Morning to you too, Barnes”, you turned around, meeting his lips with yours, “Missed you in bed”. He let his forehead fall against yours, allowing for a dissatisfied grumble to escape his chest. “I know…I’m sorry, sweets. I got way too into my book. I didn’t realize that I passed out until I heard you in here”.

“I know, Buck. It’s not a big deal”, you ghosted your lips over his, “I still love ya”. He landed a light smack to your ass and banished you to a barstool, promising that he’d make breakfast to make it up to you. His large hands worked quickly to prepare a cup of coffee for you just the way you liked it, delivering it to you in your favorite mug.

Bucky watched with a smile as you sipped on it casually, telling him all about the wild dreams you’d had the night before. “Yeah, and so then I had to coach the soccer team because the real coaches got arrested- but no one would tell me why! And you know who the coaches were? Trixie and Katya!”

Bucky looked up from his waffle batter, a silly smile toying with the corners of his lips, “the drag queens?” He threw his head back in a laugh at your emphatic “YES!” and felt his heart swell- God, you were adorable. He served you your cinnamon waffles with a bowl of strawberries and a second cup of coffee, another “I’m sorry” falling from his lips.

“You are more than forgiven, Sarge” you popped a strawberry into his mouth, wiping at the sweet juice that stained his lips. The two of you ate and did the dishes together, enjoying the lazy, stress-free Saturday morning.

The day passed without incident, the two of you taking a walk in the park and grabbing Thai food for dinner at your favorite local place. Bucky dragged you into the bakery down the street and bought you the macarons that you deemed “too expensive”, relishing in the smile that spread across your face as you tried each one. He, of course, refused to take a bite of any of them and swore that they were just for you- but folded like he always did when you gave him your puppy dog eyes. It was a perfect day and an even better night, Bucky slipping into the shower with you and making you see stars.

He carried you to bed afterward, your damp hair sending goosebumps across his skin. “I love you…” he snuggled in close to you, wrapping his warm body around yours, “I love you a lot”. It was clear to you that Bucky still felt a twinge of guilt about the previous night, but there was no need.

“And I love you, Buck. A whole lot.” You reached for the lamp and flicked it off, sending the room into a dark stillness. Bucky tightened his grip around you and listened for your breathing to steady, waiting for his best girl to fall asleep.

You stirred around 3:15am, the urge to pee ruining the perfect dream you’d been having. Quickly and quietly, you padded to the bathroom, only realizing on your walk back to bed that Bucky was missing.

“Not again,” you snapped your head in the direction of the bedroom door, discovering a soft, yellow light emanating from the living room. “Buck…” you muttered, dragging your body from the bedroom to search for your super soldier.

He sat in the same place as the night before, his nose buried in a book while his metallic fingers played absentmindedly with the corner of the page.

“Burning the midnight oil?” Bucky’s eyes left the words and met your gaze, an apologetic smile pulling at his lips. A slight shiver made your body shake, forcing you to cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to conserve your heat.

“Hey, sweets, what are you doing up?”

You padded over to Bucky and perched on the arm of his chair, staring down at him with disapproval. “I could ask you the same thing, Barnes. Are we gonna have a problem?”

When the two of you first got together, Bucky had an issue being honest. He couldn’t seem to open up to you when he was struggling, nor did he ever dare ask you for help. And his habit of suffering in silence drove him to a seemingly-apocalyptic panic attack that convinced him he was dying.

He’d shown up at your door looking like a ghost of himself, scaring you half to death as he gasped for breath. It took nearly an hour to get him calmed down, and several hours after that for him to finally spill his guts to you. He told you every detail he could remember about Hydra, and the anxiety that often plagued him.

And when everything was laid out on the table, you made him promise to be honest from then on out. You assured him that you loved him for exactly who he was, Winter Soldier and all, and that you’d much rather hear about his troubled past than have him suffer in such a state of panic.

He reached for your hand and left a few kisses on your palm before pressing it gently to his cheek. “No problem here, doll, I swear I’m okay…I honestly don’t know what the deal is- just can’t fall asleep”. His arms tugged you from your seat and landed you in his lap, his body heat granting you a welcome respite from the cold.

“Are you sure? Cause if there’s something eating at you, Buck, you can talk to me- I want you to talk to me”. You twisted your fingers into his hair, making an automatic smile stretch across his face.

“I know that, sweets…” his grasp around you tightened, burying you deeper in the warmth of his body, “but there’s nothing to talk about. I laid in bed for hours before I came out here- no luck.” He threw you a defeated shrug and trailed kisses from your forehead to your lips, just like he always did.

“You promise? I mean, you always used to swear that you were okay, and then-” Bucky took your face in his hands, silencing you. He could tell the worry that you’d locked away all those months ago was rearing its ugly head, threatening to break free and wreak havoc on your psyche.

“I promise- just excess adrenaline or something, alright?” he offered you his pinky, linking it with yours in an effort to grant you a little peace of mind. With narrowed eyes and a faux-frown you gave his pinky a gentle tug, sealing the promise in place. “I just care about you, Buck…” the lighthearted tone left your words completely, exposing your deep-rooted anxiety, “I don’t mean to bug you- I just worry”.

Bucky pulled you tighter against his body, enveloping you completely in the safety of his arms. “I don’t think anyone’s ever cared about me as much as you do- it’s never a bother, you could never be a bother, doll. I welcome it.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his super-soldier heart. The sound brought you more comfort than you ever thought any one thing could, and before you knew it, you were falling asleep. “Alright, back to bed you go” Bucky swept you into his arms and carried you to bed, gently placing you back under the covers.

“Buck, would you stay? Just for a minute…” you pulled your head from the pillow, catching Bucky just as he stepped through the bedroom door, “I miss you”.

Without hesitation, Bucky crawled back into bed and pulled you flush against his chest, dropping kisses on the top of your head one right after another. “Of course, baby. I’m here”, he squeezed you a bit tighter, “you can go to sleep”. With Bucky in his rightful spot in your bed, you drifted easily off to sleep- but the same could not be said for him.

For three subsequent nights, Bucky snuck out of the bed you two shared and planted himself in the armchair, diving into his book while you slept without him. And every night, you woke to find him missing, disappointment and loneliness slowly chiseling away at your heart.

On the sixth night of Bucky’s absence, you wrapped yourself in the cozy quilt that adorned your bed and trudged into the living room. It was 3:47am and exhaustion threatened to force you to the floor, but a fierce determination to drag Bucky back to bed kept you going.

As you crept into the living room, your quilt dragging along the floor behind you, you laid eyes on Bucky. His head rested in one of his hands and his eyes squinted down at the page before him as he clearly struggled to stay awake.

“Buck…?”

A sharp jolt rattled Bucky’s body, your voice startling him out of his stupor. He looked up at you slowly, exhaustion making every movement that much more difficult. “Sweetheart, hi” he rasped, his groggy voice clearly struggling to appear cheery. His crystalline blue eyes, usually clear and alert, were foggy and vacant, betraying just how tired he was. Dark circles lived under his eyes and the healthy color was drained from his face, leaving him lifeless and ghost-like.

“Don’t tell me you’re okay, because you’re not,” you dropped the quilt and marched over to him, taking the book from his hands.

“Buck, I need you to talk to me. Right now. You’re clearly exhausted-” a slight crack in your voice sent a sharp pang of anxiety to Bucky’s chest, “what’s going on with you?”

Bucky’s head fell back and he resigned himself to defeat- but an inkling of relief tugged at his heart. He hated hiding things from you, hated keeping up the charade of being okay when he was falling apart at the seams. With a labored groan, he sat up straight in his chair. His tired muscles ached and throbbed, his exhausted mind foggy as he tried to lay all of his cards out on the table.

“That first night that you found me out here…I’d had a nightmare”. Bucky watched you cover your face with your hands, a crippling sensation of shame clawing at his chest. “I know, I know- I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, baby. I know”, he waited for a moment, only continuing his story when you’d composed yourself a bit.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep after, so I came out here to read- that’s the truth. But then…” Bucky’s vibranium hand gripped his dog tags, forcing a quiet whine from the thin metal. “Then I just- I didn’t want to sleep…every time I closed my eyes, I saw that same nightmare playing on an endless loop- I couldn’t take it”.

You lowered yourself onto the coffee table, the weight of Bucky’s words forcing you to sit down. “So you’re saying that-” Bucky nodded, confirming your fear. “Yeah. We’d go to bed and I’d wait for you to fall asleep, then I’d spend the rest of the night out here- forcing myself to stay awake”. Bucky’s dark chuckle sent goosebumps over your skin, “I got through four and a half books, though”.

But it wasn’t funny. You didn’t laugh or even crack a smile at Bucky’s attempt at humor. “Buck, you can’t- you have to sleep”, you tensed your jaw, pushing the raw emotion aside as best you could, “this is serious”. He knew you were right, and he was certain that he’d thrown your anxiety into overdrive, but he didn’t know what to say. An uncomfortable silence pushed its way between the two of you, filling you with a strange sense of isolation.

A shiver crawled up your spine, making your body shake against the unwelcome chill. “Oh, sweetheart-” Bucky grabbed the quilt you’d left on the floor and wrapped it around you, banishing the cold from your body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you stared down at Bucky, watching him tuck the ends of your blanket around your feet. “You promised, Buck.”

His head fell forward. The utter brokenness in your voice, your seemingly hopeless tone shattered him completely. Shame twisted in his chest, making it ache and throb as he thought about what you said. He made a promise to you, but chose break it- something he swore he’d never do.

“I didn’t…I don’t like telling you about this stuff, baby”, he raked a hand through his hair and lifted his tired eyes, meeting your worried gaze. “I’ve told you all about Hydra and my missions and the anxiety, but I haven’t- I don’t like to tell you about the dreams…”

“I’m an adult- I’m a grown man…I’m a fucking Avenger. I shouldn’t be bothered by them, you know? It’s embarrassing…” He rocked back on his heels, allowing his butt to land against the cold hardwood. You slid from the coffee table to the floor, landing just a few inches from Bucky’s exhausted form. With a light touch, you placed a hand on his knee, ensuring him that you were there- you were with him.

A sudden, sharp cringe pulled his brows together, forcing the alarm bells in your head to sound at full volume. “Um, since I’m being honest…do you remember how I told you that I’d had fewer nightmares since moving in?” You looked at him expectantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop, only to feel your heart shatter.

“You’ve been hiding them from me this whole time…” You felt your chest tighten at the thought of Bucky suffering in silence- all alone.

“I didn’t hide all of them, not the-”

“Not the ones that woke me up?”

He nodded sheepishly, explaining that he couldn’t hide the nightmares if you were the one shaking him awake as he screamed. He could practically feel the anxiety rising in your body, the tension turning your pliant muscles into rock hard knots.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry- I never want to lie to you or hide things, but I-” With the raising of your hand, you silenced him. Nervous energy twisted in Bucky’s stomach as he sat before you, waiting for you to speak.

“I’m not mad, Buck”, you finally said, “I’m not happy that you kept all this to yourself, and I wish you’d told me like you promised you would, but…I just hate that you’ve been dealing with this alone- how can I help you? What can I do, babe? I just want you to sleep- I need you to rest.”

Bucky scooted closer to you and leaned his head against the crook of your neck, releasing a deep sigh. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do doll,” he whispered, “I’m so fucking tired…I’m gonna pass out soon, and then I’ll have the dream again- and the whole cycle will start over”.

Your heart broke for him, splintering and shattering into hundreds of sharp, tiny pieces. If anyone deserved rest, it was Bucky. But the ghosts of his past plagued him so violently, so aggressively, threatening to ruin his present and his future.

“Okay, how about this- let’s just get you into bed, alright?” Bucky tried to protest, but didn’t have the energy to put up much of a fight. “We won’t turn the light off and we’ll keep the tv on- I’ll put on something happy…and when you wake up from the nightmare, I’ll be right there. I’ll coax you through it, okay? We’re gonna get you some rest- I promise.”

He didn’t resist when you pulled him from the floor and escorted him to the bedroom, his hulking form leaning against you as he trudged down the hall. With the blanket wrapped securely around him, Bucky felt a sense of peace- but it was eclipsed by overwhelming anxiety. He didn’t want to close his eyes. He didn’t want to see the gory, bloody carnage that sat dormant in his brain. He started spiraling, willing his body to flee from the bed and find safety in his trusty armchair, but your voice brought him back.

“Why don’t you want to tell me about the nightmares?” you snuggled into bed next to Bucky, gently stroking his scarred chest, “I know you said it’s embarrassing because you’re an Avenger or something, but do you think that Steve never had nightmares? Sam? Nat? Tony? Everyone on the team has been through shit- you more than anyone else. Nightmares are a normal response…”

Bucky shrugged, his aching muscles protesting against the motion. With exhaustion taking hold of him and stripping him of his usual filter, Bucky dropped the truth on you all at once.

“I should be stronger than this…”

You stared at him, your mouth hanging slightly ajar. Bucky was the strongest person you’d ever known- mentally and physically. To have suffered so much, only to remain so kind, so grounded, was a miraculous feat.

“Buck, having nightmares doesn’t mean that you’re weak-”

“But letting them keep me awake does…” he breathed, “letting them torture me to the point of avoiding sleep simply because I’m too fucking scared to close my eyes- that makes me weak”.

He left you speechless. How Bucky could be so cold, so callous toward himself, lacking any fiber of empathy or understanding, broke your heart. “I don’t want- I don’t want you thinking less of me…this isn’t what you signed up for when we got together, baby,” Bucky’s eyes dipped once again, the unbridled humiliation forcing his gaze downward. “I want to be strong for you. I’m a fucking super soldier-“

“I know you’re a super soldier, but you’re human. Before you’re anything else- you’re a human being. It’s okay to be affected by these things, Buck. It’s okay to be scared.” You placed a hand under his chin, lifting his eyes to meet yours, “You don’t have to put up a façade with me- you don’t have to pretend. If you can’t be vulnerable with me, if you can’t let your guard down and be honest about what you’re going through- it’s only going to make things worse”. Bucky nodded- he knew you were right- but the humiliation still threatened to eat him alive.

“And hey, I didn’t sleep for a week after seeing the last IT- and that’s literally a movie about a spooky clown”, Bucky half smiled at your quip, looking more at peace than he had all night. “You’ve faced some real horrors- things that no one on this planet could even imagine. Your mind revisits them at night as a way to deal and cope- you’re literally reliving some of the worst moments of your life, of course it affects you”.

Tears stung at Bucky’s eyes. Emotion and exhaustion had his head spinning, a complete loss for words preventing him from even responding.

“Hey, we can talk about this more in the morning-alright?” you pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and grabbed the remote, turning on Golden Girls at a low volume. “Okay, ya Girls are playing, the lamp is on- is there anything else I can do for you right now?” Bucky just shook his head, still too overwhelmed to say much of anything.

He freed his arms from their blanket burrito and tugged you against his body, holding you tight to his chest like he always did. “I’m always here for you, Buck. You never have to be embarrassed- I just want what’s best for you. Okay?” He nodded, finally feeling a sense of relief. With you there, Bucky could endure anything.

“Baby…I love you” he managed to whisper, squeezing you tighter as he let his eyelids flutter shut. With the uncertain darkness of sleep on the horizon, he prayed silently that he wouldn’t see the faces of those who tortured him all those years - but knew that if he did, you’d be right there to save him.

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