Is there a word that’s a mix between angry and sad
Come get this dick-fil-a
Killer Queen masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!reader Word Count: 2.2k Chapter warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, 141, retired (not for long) soldier reader, reader's callsign is Tiger, enemies to lovers (but currently just enemies), referenced past trauma and capture, allusions to forced prostitution (past), graphic injury detail/description, reader suffers from night terrors, swearing, this series will be significantly darker than my other works
Your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, just enough to make out where the walls are. Where the low ceiling meets the edges. There's no window and the floors are bare concrete, exuding an inescapable chill that permeates your skin and bones.
The metal of the chains bite into your ankles and wrists; the bones more prominent that usual after weeks of starvation and exhaustion. You can hair faint screams beyond the single, barred door; the voices of your team echoing through the halls. Haunting your every waking moment.
There's a man in the corner, armed with a rifle. He watches you day and night - unsympathetic and unmoved.
He will be the first to die, you think. It's a though that keeps you sane. You cling to it like a buoy on a stormy sea.
The door opens and another man enters. He carries with him a bundle of cloth, tucked under one arm. You know what's in the bundle before he even opens it - the rows of polished blades sheathed within. As he takes a seat opposite you, he unrolls it onto the crude wooden table, little more than a barstool. And, as he sets about his daily work, he mentions a man; one who you will eventually be taken to.
Makarov.
You'd met him before; knew his particular brand of cruelty.
After all, he'd had to go through so much trouble to find you again.
You awake to the sound of shrieking. To the taste of copper bitter in your mouth.
It takes a second for you to register that the screams are your own.
Someone is trying to get through the door, but it's been locked and deadbolted on your side. It seems like they've realised that, as the frantic, pounding knocks give way to heavy thuds like someone is trying to break it down entirely. They're shouting too - trying to ask you if you are okay, but you're far beyond words.
You're a sobbing, shivering wreck when the door finally bows inwards, splinting and falling away from the frame. Four men are standing in the hallway, illuminated by the harsh ceiling spotlights. It's an ominous sight that only serves to make your panic worsen. You try to tell them that you're fine, but you're paralysed - frozen under the too-tight sheets.
"Tiger?" the concerned voice comes from the doorway, the men huddled there unsure as to whether or not they should enter your den.
"Go. Away." The words leave your gritted teeth, sweat drenching your skin. The screaming has stopped but your chest still shakes violently, limbs leaden with an invisible, impossible weight.
There's a pause. The four figures remain there.
"Are you sure?"
You screw your eyes shut, unable to calm your own body. You feel pathetic, reduced to a cowering wreck in front of these virtual strangers. Even worse: in front of Ghost.
"Leave," you hiss.
When your eyes open moments later, you home in on the one man still loitering in the doorway. You'd recognise that body anywhere; the broad, sloping shoulders and the tapered, masculine waist.
"Ghost," you growl, "I said leave."
The shadowy outline stays. Instead of doing as he's asked for once in his life, he asks, "You still get the nightmares?"
You don't humour him with an answer.
Regardless, he carries on, crossing the threshold of your room. The door lies, battered and useless, on the floor. "I thought you were still seeing that therapist Laswell suggested? What's the point of them if they don't help you? I thought by now you'd be..." He trails off absentmindedly.
"Better?" you supply, the word drenched in bitter sarcasm. "I'll never be better, Simon. You made sure of that."
"Don't say that name here," he snaps, instantly on the defensive. It brings you a small amount of comfort to think that he feels even half of the tension you do. "Didn't I teach you anything?"
"You said a lot of shit." You blink. "I ignored most of it."
The sound of footsteps fills your ears, heavy as they step over the fallen door. You look up at him as he moves to stand at your bedside, staring down at you. His face is covered by that stupid mask again - the cold, hard plastic shell concealing any hint of emotion from sight.
"What do you mean I 'made sure of that'?"
You frown up at him. "Huh?"
"You said that I made sure you'd never be better. Explain it."
You want nothing more than for him to leave. You're tired, drenched in sweat and pinned to the bed by the scratchy, standard-issue sheets. The door of your suite - the one flimsy layer of privacy in the barracks - has been smashed off of its hinges, and it's most likely the early hours of the morning based on the lack of sunlight coming through the drawn curtains; i.e. not the time to be having this conversation.
The best time, in fact, would be never.
Ghost taps his foot impatiently and you sigh, rolling your eyes. "You got me to trust you and then you left without a word. You went out of your way to reach out to other LTs in the area and tell them not to work with me. You poisoned the well; you made doing my job impossible." A beat of silence passes before you continue on, letting your words settle in the air between you. With every memory, you pick up steam - tone steadily rising in volume. "You moved out of our house and said nothing. I couldn't pay the mortgage so I had to sell it, and I couldn't find my family's new phone numbers or details after they were moved for their own protection, so I was completely on my own and scared shitless."
There are tears in your eyes now, but you refuse to let them fall. Not for him. "I got back in touch with Laswell. She tried her best to help me; to have me moved into sheltered housing because I couldn't get my head on right to look for a new flat. And then I..."
Your mouth feels like it's full of cotton. Throat so dry that you could choke on air.
Never in your mind had you thought you would be here with him, finally able to confront him for everything he did back then. In all honesty, you would have been happy to never see him again. To never have to dig up the horrible, brutal depths of your failures and lay them out in the open - raw, bloody, and exposed - for him to pick through and examine.
"I broke down. Completely." Your hands clench into fists under the covers. "You ruined my fucking life, Ghost. More than Makarov ever could."
"Don't you dare fucking say that." Ghost's voice thunders through the room, his thick, Manchester accent rumbling against the gravel of his tone. You turn away from him, rolling in bed to face the wall. Your refusal to acknowledge him only seems to piss him off all the more. "You were the one who ruined us. Not me. You were the one who chose to lie again and again, and ruin the trust between us. You."
Anger pounds in your ears, rising to a crescendo of boiling rage. You're up on your feet before you know it, squaring up to the man you once loved with all of your icy, savage heart.
Practically snarling in his face, you shove him square in the chest, crowding him against your desk. So unlike himself, he takes it - takes your wrath and allows himself to be backed into a corner.
"You're so full of shit, Simon!" you hiss, no longer caring that you're using his real name within earshot of the others. "You left me! You did the one thing you promised me you'd never do. You ran away when it all got too real. And now you have the calls to call me a coward."
At that, he pushes back slightly, straightening up until you have no choice but to ease back a few steps. Snarling, he retorts, "I left before you had the chance. You made it clear that you were putting distance between us - I was just doing you a favour."
A laugh leaves your lips, the sound bordering on hysterical. Even he looks a little taken aback by it.
"A favour?" you shriek. Someone opens a door down the hall. "Get the fuck out!"
Ghost's jaw slackens under the mask, but you shove him again. He stumbles back.
You push him until he's out in the hallway, blocking the doorway with your body so he can't get back inside. "Once this is all over, I hope I never fucking see you again. I mean it, Ghost - you're fucking dead to me."
He stands there, his stance almost... accepting? You don't know if that's the right word to describe it. He looks so defeated. And when he finally manages words, all he says is, "I'll get someone to fix the door first thing."
As you watch his broad back retreating down the hallway, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. A stab of pain at what could have been had he just stayed.
Before you turn back into your own room, your eyes meet the weathered ones of Price. He's standing further down the hall, eyeing you with something akin to pity. And then he closes his door, leaving you completely alone once again.
It's safe to say that you don't fall asleep before sunrise.
The next morning, when you return from your morning run, the door is fixed. There's a new lock too - better than the built-in one that was there before - and it brings a small smile to your face.
You don't know if it was Simon or Price, but someone had clearly taken the time to put it there. You highly doubted that the Chuckle Brothers had done it - they'd taken to steering clear of you since you blew up on MacTavish.
Over the next few days, you avoid your new teammates like the plague, and they return the favour. If they hear your night terrors, they do you the solid of ignoring them.
It's a rainy Tuesday when Laswell finally summons you all, declaring that they've finally found something that might help you track down Makarov.
Some small, selfish part of you almost hopes that you never find him; that he'll just drop off the face of the Earth again, but stay gone this time. That he'll fall through the cracks and wind up someplace where he can't hurt anyone. Where he can't hurt you.
But another part of you - the bloody, seething mess that crawled out of that militia base years ago - she savours it. The methodical planning that's been ticking over in the back of your head for years now; keeping you going in the quiet moments.
You sit stiffly in your preferred seat - in the corner, facing the rectangular meeting room's only entrance and exit. You were the first to arrive, followed shortly after by Captain Price. Every once and a while, he makes fleeting eye contact with you, always being the first to break it.
"You really did a number on him, you know?" he says after a few ticks of the wall-mounted clock.
The words surprise you. "I'm sorry?"
The captain clears his throat, shifting in his crappy plastic chair to better face you. "He never said why he was so bent out of shape when he came back to us from leave. We thought it was the same reason he wears the mask; thought it was about Mexico." He eyes you warily before tacking on the next part. "Soap always reckoned it was about a woman."
You just roll your eyes.
"Just never could have predicted it would be the infamous Tiger." Leaning back in his chair, he takes off his hat and rests it on the table in front of him, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips. "You know, there's files on you that even I don't have the clearance to access."
"If you have any questions pertinent to us working together, I'm sure Laswell can make some arrangements for you," you reply, tone devoid of any emotion. You're used to this - to superior officers getting curious about your closed past. "Or, better yet, you could just ask me."
Price's expression shifts, seemingly shocked that you've called his bluff. "I... I don't think that's entirely necessary, ..."
Watching him struggle to find the name he's never received, you out him out of his misery. "You can call me T, if that helps."
It beats being solely referred to as Tiger, and you're sure as shit not about to tell any of them your legal name. Not even Simon knew that.
"Alright then, T. I think that if I don't have clearance, there's a reason for it. I'd also like the think that anything I find out about you will be done on your terms, in your own time; that it will come with your respect. Does that sound alright with you?"
You nod slowly, feeling like it's some sort of trick.
It doesn't take long after that for everyone else to file in, taking various seats around the table. Sergeant Garrick fills the seat beside you, regarding you with a somewhat-awkward smile and nod combo.
By the end of the meeting, all you have is a few more possible leads, but it's more than you started with. MacTavish and Garrick are tasked with heading to Spain - Makarov's suspected current hideout - to do some recon work, and Price and Ghost are going to Russia to interrogate some of Makarov's captured allies.
Leaving you.
"I need you to do something important for me," Laswell asks, deep blue eyes locking onto yours. Immediately, your back straightens. "There's an asset in London. She used to be... one of Makarov's girls."
You know what that means. The sea of disturbed expressions around the table tell you that you aren't the only one.
To be one of his girls was to be a prisoner; a slave in his harem. You would know; for a brief time before you joined the military, you were one of them.
"We have her under a new identity, in hiding, but there's a few questions that she might be able to answer for us. I thought that if anyone here knows the right approach, it would be you."
You can feel Ghost's gaze heavy on your side profile. Feel the heat of his eyes burning holes in you as you swallow, nodding slowly.
Solemnly, you hold Laswell's cautious gaze. "When do I go?"
a/n: hi guys, I just wanted to say a big thank you for the continued support on this work/my others! please do feel free to request to be added to any taglist :) also, the next thing I'm working on will be the next part of Unlikely Friendships, so if you are interested in that, please hold tight! - much love, lapetitelapin <3
Taglist: @420-hun @honestlymassivetrash
A/N: Military inaccuracies, angst and fluff
TW: hints to PTSD, trauma, loss and anxiety
"As the Royal Navy already have extensive eyes in the region, we will do this mission in collaboration with some of their own" Cyclone starts speaking. I sit up straighter in my chair hoping that in some bizarre coincidence you'll be here. Javy gives me a look that I instantly know means he is questioning the same thing.
"Does that mean the spots on the mission will be allocated to them or that they will have a backup team?" Payback questions.
This is the only part of today that I have been active listening, suddenly having laser straight focus.
"Neither. We are getting coms from them and that will be reciprocated by you. They are running a separate mission on the same target. Naturally, their mission is classified but you will both be navigating the same terrain and dealing with the same enemy aircraft... Today we will be running a team exercise for you to know who you are flying with" Cyclone answers in the most convoluted way. I roll my eyes, it's typical that they expect us to work alongside them and not tell us why.
Maverick steps forward to take over. "You all know the mission parameters and each other's limits. I think that it is important that we get to know their flying so we are going to do more dogfighting. No missiles just guns. This will be done in teams UK v US. There's less of them than us so we will break up into groups" He says before calling up his first team to go get their flight suits on.
We listen on the radio as our team gets shot down over and over again. It is frustrating to only hear our coms so we have no means of knowing how they are shooting everyone down so fast or any understanding of their strategy.
It would be useful to know who these people are and how they work together. Also, more than anything else today, I just want to know if she's here.
Everyone leaves until it is just me, Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy.
"Don't leave us out to dry." Phoenix warns me as we step out onto the tarmac.
"I won't, we're winning this." I respond giving her a cocky smile. She nods.
"We need to pair off and cover more ground. You take Phoenix and Bob, I'll wingman Payback and Fanboy" Rooster directs me.
"Sir, yes sir." I mock salute as I walk towards my plane.
He gives me an unreadable expression. "Something is different about you today." Rooster remarks before dispersing. We don't have time for him to theorise or question me further.
*
Payback and Fanboy are out in literal seconds. Rooster gets lock on the person responsible then moves to protect Phoenix and Bob from the other side.
"You see anything Baby on Board?" I ask bob.
"Ignore him." Phoenix mutters.
"Nothing on the radar. Where are these guys?" Rooster asks the second that someone gets lock on him.
"They're below us." I confirm having watched someone put guns on Rooster.
We swing around to find them but as we're turning they go upwards into the sun.. "I can't see a thing!" I express, dropping back once I realise I've gone too quick and started to stray. That's when I see the plane gaining traction on her.
"Break right." I instruct her as I go after the other person and get them out with ease.
"Two down, two to go." Bob says.
"Great should be easy." Phoenix jabs with a small laugh.
"I've lost them in the sun." Bob informs us.
"Let's drop down slightly because we cannot see up here." Phoenix suggests.
"Break left hangman!" Bob bellows. I do so and it saves me but gives someone the opportunity to get lock on Phoenix and Bob.
"Fuck." I express. It's two against one.
I drop fast, needing to use the terrain here against their targeting systems. I break and one of them flies right over me as intended. I get a lock on them but not a plane on the radar directly behind me.
One v one.
I break left in an attempt to shake them. Predictably that does not work, so I go lower quickly reaching the hard deck. That does not deter them, they follow.
I try slowing down again but they anticipate the collision with me and invert above me to swing around and take the shot. I lock eyes with her then and she smirks. I give her the finger and she laughs - we both know she's about to shoot me down. "Holy shit she's good." I say as the lock tone rings.
Moving in line with her I wave enthusiastically before signalling for her to land. "God I am so in love with you." I mutter to myself completely oblivious to the fact that everyone is still on the radio channel downstairs.
Seconds after her, I land. She's already nowhere to be seen, probably gone to the lockers. By the time I get there she's gone. I swiftly strip out of my flight suit and into my uniform for a debrief.
"Nice of you to join us." Bob remarks as I meander in. I smile and put a toothpick in my mouth as Maverick starts talking. I'm listening to him, but my eyes are on you. How are you already stood here in your pearly whites looking so good after hours for dogfighting?
There's a phone on my desk. I pick it up wondering who it belongs to as I do not recognise it. I am met with a picture of myself as the lock screen - so you got a new phone.
I look back up at you and you're smirking: you want me to snoop at something. Looking away from Mav I glance down and unlock the phone. You're looking at a hotel in the Maldives, of course you are. I check the dates and press confirm glancing up every so often to look semi-engaged in whatever Maverick is saying. Bob coughs to get my attention and gives me a disapproving look as I start entering my card details.
I lock the phone again, placing it face down on the table to give you my undivided attention after Maverick announces, "Okay I'm going to shut up now and let our British counterparts introduce themselves."
True to word he stands back and you step forward.
"I'm Captain Y/N Seresin -" you start instantly cut off by Fanboy. "Any relation to Hangman here?" he asks.
She doesn't look at me as she lies. "No." she responds simply.
"I mean he did say that he loves you so that's a pretty big indication that you might know him more than you're letting on." Coyote says making me smirk. She knows he knows, so I expect her lie to falter.
"You've seen my flying, why are you surprised?" You respond winking at him.
"Everyone loves her." Phoenix says loudly over to Coyote not knowing he was best man at your wedding. There's no one else I would've asked to do that for me. You smile at her and nod in agreement.
"These are Lieutenants: Warren Smith, Harvey Brown, Suzie Radcliff, Thomas Raey and Rose Turner. As team leader, if you have any concerns or problems with any of them, which you shouldn't because they're all great, please come to me directly." You instruct us all.
You meet my gaze and I can't help myself but smile.
"What are your callsigns?" Rooster asks you, taking your attention off of me. I glare at him unconsciously annoyed.
"We don't have call signs like you do. Individual flights are given callsigns but these are not attached to the aviator." you briefly explain.
"Ah that's strange" Bradshaw responds.
"They were given honorary callsigns last time our paths crossed, I'm surprised you're not enforcing them since taking over the team Y/N" Phoenix speaks up.
"I'm not enforcing your drunken callsigns on anyone." You giggle playfully rolling your eyes at her.
"Where's Prince?" Phoenix questions looking over your lineup of aviators and noticing the missing party. Your smile is instantly gone, a frown taking its place.
"He's MIA." You respond voice ever so slightly quieter.
"Shit." Phoenix counters.
"It has been so long, I hope he's dead." Warren contributes.
I watch you instantly withdraw. It's not like you to go quiet. You cross your arms and I know you were there that day. Whatever happened to him, you witnessed it.
"Maybe he didn't eject?" Rose theorises.
So whatever happened, you haven't told your team?
"Dear God, can we not rehash this?" Tom asks loudly before looking to you. I know he's about to ask if you're okay you nod once as a silent answer to his unasked question. He was there too then.
That completely shuts down the conversation and you've mentally distanced yourself enough from the conversation to not instantly fill the silence like I'm used to.
"Let's just get on with this... Americans introduce yourselves." Tom speaks for you.
When everyone starts introducing themselves you snap out of whatever thought process gripped you, and start asking personalised questions to get to know the people you've never spoken to before.
When it comes to me you don't bother with a question because you already know me. That's your tell here. You haven't asked Coyote, me or Phoenix any questions.
Trace is looking over at me with a raised eyebrow having picked up on that. I raise my eyebrows back at her. "How?" She mouths. I laugh and tap my nose. It's a secret... because I have absolutely no idea what the answer to that question is. How on Earth I managed to score you is a mystery I do not think anyone will ever solve.
To prove something to a friend, please
REBLOG IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES
LIKE IF YOU THINK ASEXUALS DON’T BELONG IN LGBTQ+ SPACES
Fandom: The Witcher
Paring: geralt/reader
Side note: this is pure smut like this took me a while so hopefully it's good.
"So we finally get to sleep in a bed?" You ask geralt who only grunts at you as you enter the town. You send a glear his way this whole trip he has been nothing but a total ass to you. You follow him to the inn and you both sit at the table where you order and get a room for the night.
"You can wash first," he says, his voice low and rough. You take a swig of your drink and set the empty cup down.
"Oh! Now you wanna talk to me? You have been nothing but an ass ever since we left our last job" you snap, finally confronting him about the way he has been treating you. His eyes are cold and hard and you feel your heart speed up.
"Go" he growled between clenched teeth and you felt your temper flare. You bite your lip and stand up trying your very best not to punch him in the face.
"Ya know I think we have traveled together long enough geralt!" You snap slowly and storm off to the room to wash up and then you would leave in the morning.
Your heart gave a painful ping at the thought of leaving him but you couldn't stay. He had treated you terribly since your last job and now he was cold and mean. You sigh and go to the window seat and look up at the full moon as the door slams open. You watch him close the door and he starts to take off his armor. You sigh and look out the window you wanted to cry but knew it would do no good. There was an odd connection between you ever since you were kids and he became a witcher and you his witch. The one who traveled with him everywhere.
The thought of leaving him hurt you more than you cared to say. You didn't want to leave but he didn't really give you a reason to stay either. Ever since that kiss things have been different. You look over at Geralt as he stands in front of you.
"Stay," he says, his voice low and even. His eyes told a different story though. You look up at him and feel your heart ache but your face stays blank hiding your true feelings.
"Why should I?" You ask your tone even. Geralt's body is tense as he watches you.
"You're important to me" he says calmly and you feel your temper spike.
'I'm Important to you!? Ever since we kissed that night you have treated me like shit! If you regret it then fine! It never happened-" you yell but you're cut off and caught off guard when Geralt's hand is around your throat and your back hits the wall. His eyes were shining golden. His hold was gentle but strong enough that you knew that you were not going anywhere.
"I regret a lot of things but kissing you is not one of them" he growls his face extremely close to yours. You look into his eyes, your heart racing.
No
"Then why treat me this way?" You ask, your voice sounded weak to even your own ears. Geralt growls his hold leaving your throat. You both were extremely close that you were breathing the same air.
"I am no good at this (y/n), I'm a monster" he says, his voice low and gravelly. You bite your lip, your hands going to his arm.
"I'm not scared of you Geralt" you breathe his lips so close to yours. Geralt's hand goses into your hair.
"Maybe you should be" he growls his lips crashing on yours making you moan. His hold on you tightens when you bite his lip making him growl and his body pushes you harder into the wall. Geralt pulls back and you pant trying to catch your breath.
"I want you Geralt" you whisper against his lips and he groans. Geralt softly strokes your face; you could see his struggle to let go for once. His fingers slide to your parted lips and you suck his finger into your wet hot mouth and he moans making your insides turn to jelly.
"Fuck" he breathes as you tounge his finger then sucking on it harder you pull off with a pop never breaking eye contact.
"I have gotten myself off by thoughts of you more times than I can count. My favorite thoughts are when you're rough with me" you say as your hands trace his shoulders, your nails lightly running down his chest. You bite your lip and he snarls as he rips your clothes off before picking you up and throwing you on the bed.
"Don't move" he growls, removing his clothes and you lick your lips as he grabs his hard cock and starts to stroke himself and you feel more wetness pull between your legs.
"Geralt please don't tease" you whine as you watch his hard cock. He smirks as he eyes you hungrily and you bite your lip as your clit throbs.
"Let's see how good your mouth feels" he growls standing at the end of the bed and you smirk and roll to all fours and grawl over to him and when you get close enough you lick the tip.
"Your bigger than I thought" you smirk up at him before sucking the head in your mouth and you both moan. Inch by inch you take him down your throat. Geralt's hand goes in your hair and he groans as he holds your head still as he starts to fuck your throat.
"Look at me" he commands and you look up at him as he fucked your mouth and throat making you moan. Geralt snarls and his body stiffens as his hot cum shoots down your throat and you suck him hard getting every last drop and you pull off with a loud pop licking your lips.
"You taste so good" you smirk and he chuckles. Geralt's hand goes to your throat and he pulls you up and he kisses you hard and deep before pulling back.
"Be a good girl and show me what's mine" he growls and you shiver as your body heats up even more. Geralt lets you go and you lay on the bed on your back and you spread your legs for him and he groans.
"Fuck good girl" he growls and crawls on the bed now hovering over you. He leans down and kisses you deeply. You moan and kiss him back just as hard and deep. You moan and cling to him nipping his lip and he growls as he pinches your nipple making you cry out from the kiss and your back to arch. His hot mouth goses down your neck and he bites leaving a mark.
"Gearlt! More!" You beg your fingers tangled in his hair and he chuckles.
"You'll get what you want but first I want you to ride my face" he says nipping your ear lobe making you bite your lip. Gearlt flips you so you are now straddling him and you moan when your cunt rubs his cock. Geralt's hands go to your hips and he guides you to hover over his face and you whine when he holds you still and in place over him. You cry out when you feel his hot mouth on your cunt.
"Oh! Fuck Geralt!" You cry out grinding down on his face. He growls and sucks your clit hard, your hands falling to the head, bored and you grind down and he smacks your thigh and you cry out as he ate you like a man starved. Geralt growls and sucks hard making you scream out as you cum hard and he groans. He helps you to settle on the bed and leans over you before kissing you deeply making you moan as you taste yourself on his lips.
"Never tasted anything so good" he growls as you wrap your legs around his waist making you groan when his cock rubs your dripping wet cunt.
"Fuck me Geralt, fuck me hard I can take it" you beg leaning up nipping his jaw. Gearlt growls as he grinds into you and you moan and he chuckles.
"I quit like you under me while begging for my cock let's hear you beg a little more" he growls as he runs his cock through your drenched folds and onto your clit making you moan and your hips to thrust up.
"Please! Please don't tease me" you big thrusting up your hips and he growls his hold going to your hips and he holds you still his warm golden eyes drink in every inch of your face.
"I know you can do better than that" he smirks down at you and you groan. Your hands lightly run down his shoulders and his shivers and groans.
"Gearlt please fuck me, I want you to fill me full, make me yours!" you beg looking up at him he growls and leans down and kisses you deeply making you moan. He nips your lip and you let his tongue enter your mouth, your tongues battling.
"Look at me as I fuck you" he growls slowly entering you making you moan and your toes curl. You cling to him tightly as he bottoms out your nails leaving marks in his skin.
"Harder" you moan against his lips, your nails drags down his ass where your nails dig in making him go even deeper and harder and he growls before kissing you deep and hard. Geralt pulls away and flips you on all fours and he smacks your ass hard making you cry out and moan as he enters you again fucking you hard.
"Fuck that's it, push back on me, Fuck just like that!" He groans his head thrown back qnd his hand tangles in your hair and he pulls your head back bearing your neck.
"Oh fuck!" You scream out as he pounds hard and deep into you making the bed beat the wall but neither of you cared or planned on stopping. You felt his hot wet mouth on your neck as he leaves kisses and bites up to your ear, his pace slowing but the thrusts got deeper an you push back and he groans and bites your neck leaving a mark behind.
"Your mine, I'm the only one who gets to feel this sweet cunt on my cock" he growls thrusting hard making your toes curl and your body to tingle.
"Yes! I'm yours! Only yours geralt please!" You beg pushing back on his cock taking him deeper and he smacks your ass.
"Please what? You wanna cum on my cock?" He growls in your ear as he fucks you the sound of slaping skin and your moans is all that can be heard.
"Yes! Please let me cum for you" you beg and he groans his fingers rubbing your Clit making you push back and cry out you were so close.
"Cum for me so I can fill you full" he groans as you clench around him and you cum hard.
"GERALT!" You scream as you cum hard, your body shaking as you cum hard.
"Fuck thats it! Fuck good girl!" He growls as he emptied himself deep into you he pants above you as he kisses the mark on your neck before rolling onto his back and you look over at him.
"Damn" you pant your chest rising and falling and he pulls you to his side and you lay your head on his chest. His fingers lightly touch his teeth mark in your neck.
"Mine" he growled lowly his golden eyes shine in the dark and you look up at him an lean up and kiss under his jaw
"Yours"
And if you can't reblog than just don't follow me
I don’t believe I’ve ever posted this analysis I did. XDXDXD
creepily he’s better at drawing Hiccup than I am
Saying “this niche, properly tagged, warned, and rated piece of fiction could theoretically hurt someone” is not a good argument. This properly labeled cookie with the allergen information at the bottom that contains gluten could theoretically harm me very badly, but only if I consume it. Tags are like nutrition labels, and warnings are like allergy information. If you know you have an allergy to something, the logic is to stay away from it. It is the same with fiction. I’m not running through stores yelling at people to take all the products with gluten off the shelves just because it could hurt me. Instead I ignore it and go to the gluten free section and find cookies that are right for me. And if running through a grocery store yelling sounds ridiculous, that’s because it is. Stop doing the same with fiction.
Very angst-ridden sequel from F#*king marry me. It was birthed after a very dark day listening to this song on a loop. Loki takes a self-destructive path of self-sabotage, breaking his love's heart all for a secret.
n/w - depressed Loki - dark Loki - angst - graphic heartbreak -mentions of mental health - graphic anxiety attacks - graphic description of violence/harm - sexual references / descriptions
will they forgive and forget?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
reminder that this blog, while not politically focused, supports BLM. bootlickers and racists aren’t welcome here, and never will be.