Aug 9, 2018
I have no excuse
seen from France
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seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Serbia
seen from Malaysia
I have no excuse
Crimson *Sergei x Reader*
Warnings: period sex. more dirty talk than usual.
A/N: I should just change my url to “sergeimalikov” bc that’s all I ever write now 🤗 do you know how easily I could’ve wrote sergei getting his red wings you’re welcome I didn’t
•••
The warmth of Sergei’s hand on your lower back is soothing, especially when he massages in slow circles. Every few minutes he gets caught up in the show he’s watching and forgets what he’s doing, until he remembers and begins the movement again.
You let out a deep breath as another wave of cramps flows through you. Your fingers tighten their grip on Sergei’s shirt as you let it pass. From your position on the bed you can’t see the TV, but you don’t mind. You’ve wrapped your arms and legs around Sergei, with your face pressed into his neck. Just the thought of moving away from him is unappealing.
Sergei’s hand strokes over your hair absentmindedly, making you want to cuddle even closer to him if it were possible.
“It hurts so bad,” you groan, the sound muffled by his shirt.
“I know, kitten, I’m sorry.” You’ve taken painkillers but they refused to kick in, you were already overheated enough without a heating pad, and Sergei was doing his best but his hand on your back didn’t help that much.
“Have you ever tried sex to help with cramps?” He asks bluntly.
“No. Most guys are terrified of blood.”
“If I was scared of blood then I’m in the wrong business,” Sergei says with a chuckle. “Do you... want to try it, then?”
“Sure. It’s not like it’ll make it worse.” You move up so your faces are level as you give your verdict.
Sergei smiles, leaning in to kiss you and roll you over. “Wait, wait, wait, give me a minute.”
You hop off the bed, going to the bathroom. You grab a towel from the cabinet and peak your head back out to toss it to Sergei; you’re lucky you had a darker one that was clean. You head back into the bathroom, preparing yourself. You debate putting your pants back on but decide against it, knowing they’ll just get bloody anyway. While you’re at it you take off your shirt, it’ll make it easier.
You take a moment to pep talk yourself, reminding yourself you look sexy even if you don’t necessarily feel it. In all honesty you feel bloated and crampy, and those together don’t equal the highest confidence.
You emerge from the bathroom, hurrying to get on the towel. Even though there’s no way anything could be dripping out already you’re scared to stain the carpet.
“What?” you question as you position yourself on the towel. Sergei’s staring at you, making you wonder if there’s already a mess. You feel so vulnerable, and with your hormones a mess it almost makes a frustrated tear spring to your eye.
He grins at you, “You’re so gorgeous, angel.”
You smile sheepishly back as Sergei finishes stripping. Once he’s done you pull him down for a kiss, arms wrapping around his neck.
He hovers above you, and you’re glad he’s putting less of his weight on you than usual. Normally it’s a comforting presence, but your stomach is already in too much pain.
You pull back as he starts to pinch your nipple. “Be gentle, everything is sore.” He nods, pressing a kiss to where he pulled too hard.
He presses kisses all over your chest, hands heavy on your waist. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly when he bites your neck. His tongue roves over the area he bit, soothing the sting.
Your nails drag down his chest as he kisses you again. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, not rushed but still just as passionate.
You reach down to stroke Sergei’s half-hard cock, enjoying the low groan he makes. In turn he licks his thumb and reaches between your bodies to play with your clit.
The sensations are heightened and it has you letting out a soft moan. His fingers slip further down and before you know it he’s sliding one in. “Sergei!” You gasp, half in shock and half in pleasure.
He adds another finger, and continues rubbing your clit. He sighs at how tight your grip on his cock is getting, bucking into your hand. Your thumb smears the precum around his red tip.
“Sergei, please,” you whine as his fingers hit your gspot, begging for even more.
“Ready, babygirl?” He grits out.
“Yes, daddy.” The feeling of being empty has your walls clenching around nothing as he pulls his fingers out. He spreads you open and teases your entrance with his dick.
You sit up on your elbows, “Don’t you want a condom?” You don’t think he’d want to get his dick bloody.
“Doesn’t make difference to me” he says with a shrug.
You nod, laying back down. He presses in slowly like you asked, slipping in easily from your arousal and the blood. Both of you moan once he’s fully in.
He grips your thighs, keeping your legs spread open. When you look down to watch his movements, you see red fingerprints on your thighs.
You flush at the sight, knowing by now blood must be all over the towel and on him. You feel so exposed. Somehow it’s the most intimate you’ve ever been together.
He fucks you slowly but intensely, and a rough thrust has you crying out and putting your hands on his chest.
He stops instantly. “What’s wrong? What is it?” His eyes are full of love as they search yours, hating that he hurt you.
“I think you hit my cervix, and it did not feel good.”
“Do you want to stop?”
That’s the last thing you want. “No, just- just don’t go that deep.” You laugh to yourself, thinking it’s probably the first and last time you’ll ever say that sentence.
He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He moves down to your lips, and the kiss radiates ardor.
“Better?” Sergei asks after a while.
“Yes, so much.” Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.
He smirks down at you, “Guess my cock is just too big for you.”
You giggle, “Or my cervix is lower this week, but I’ll let you think whatever you want.”
“Oh?” He hums, challenging you to keep talking. If you weren’t feeling so bad he’d probably punish you for making such a comment.
“It’s too big for your pretty mouth, no? That’s why you always choke on it, right?” He angles his hips so he’s hitting your gspot, leaving you a moaning mess.
“Daddy asked you question, kitten.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, making your head spin.
“Mm- yes- your cock’s too big for me,” you grit out, barely able to form an understandable sentence. Your hips roll, desperate to meet his thrusts.
Sergei kisses along your jaw line, nipping at your bottom lip. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you murmur, “Fuck.”
You’d have hoped you wouldn’t be able to think of the pain, but instead it turned into a dull ache. Still there, making you wince if you thought about it, but buried beneath the arousal you felt.
“You feel so perfect, princess,” Sergei groans into your ear. “Gonna make me cum.”
You smirk at the praise. His thrusts get sloppier as he nears the end. You’re not far behind, each circle of your clit sends a zap of electricity to your core. Each press of his dick against your gspot has your walls fluttering around him.
“C’mon baby, cum for daddy,” he encourages. You bite your lip, focusing on how amazing his length feels as each stroke stretches you out.
“Want me to fill your cute little pussy up? Have my cum drip down your legs?”
“Mmmhmm,” you moan out, the beginnings of your orgasm taking hold.
Everything happens so fast. Your clit is being rubbed at what feels like supersonic speed, and every thrust is hitting perfectly.
“Sergei!” You exclaim, before your body takes over, sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your walls tighten around Sergei, bringing his own release. He tightens his grip on your hips, moaning deeply.
He hovers above you, resting his forehead on yours as you both recover. You put your hands on both sides of his face, kissing all over.
He pulls out and rolls over onto his back next to you. You prop yourself up on your elbow, admiring how well the post-sex glow looks on him. You stare at the blood that’s on him, his hands (which by now you’re well used to) and his dick.
“Do you feel better?” He asks.
You nod, smiling back at him. “I need a shower now, though. Join me?”
He makes a sound of agreement, getting up and starting the water. You stay laying down for a moment, remembering the cramps you had before, and acknowledging the way they’re not piercing anymore. You make a mental reminder for next month.
3 good things a day
- was able to focus enough to get some really important work done
- tidied my room up a bit
- worked on my friend’s wiki and watched a new video of theirs which was really fun
8-8-18 (Wednesday)
••• *Sergei x Reader*
Warnings: panic, disassociation, anxiety
A/N: writing stuff that hits too close to home makes it feel like y’all are my therapists. it’s crazy how i can write the nastiest, dirtiest thoughts and not be phased but as soon as I post anything remotely similar to my feelings i’m self-conscious
•••
It’s not always a life or death moment that triggers panic. Sometimes it’s a sound that’s too jarring, or lights you can’t get accustomed to, or a new situation or even nothing at all.
Today was one of the latter. You’d been at the garage with Sergei, talking with a group about the plans for a new expansion. You’d zoned out, attention focused on the cabs instead of Piotr’s voice. When you abruptly snap back into focus, your heart starts to pound, and your vision is blurry.
You take some deep breaths, trying to overcompensate and seem normal by nodding along to Piotr’s words. You clench your fists, then crack your knuckles, then fix the hem of your shirt in rapid succession. If anyone saw (they didn’t, even though it felt like everyone was aware of it) it would’ve looked like you downed an energy drink or took a hit of cocaine.
You tap your foot, waiting for the group to break apart. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself by walking away in the middle of the conversation. Your hands start to sweat as you clench them, and your whole body feels overheated.
You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of how dry your mouth is. For a second it felt hard to swallow, and that caused another rush of adrenaline as you wondered if you were going to choke. You look around the circle quickly to see if anyone’s caught on to your nervous behavior.
You try your hardest to hold it together until the group starts breaking apart. As soon as you can start heading to the bathroom, it feels easier to breathe.
You’re walking pretty fast, but Sergei still catches up to you and grabs your wrist. “What’s wrong, are you ok?”
“Sort of,” you reply, not slowing down.
You’re relieved to see the bathroom is empty. You’ve never been happier to see the disgusting, tiny place. Sergei squeezes in before you shut the door.
You look at him, accepting he’s staying with you. With shaking hands you turn on the tap and splash water on your face. You barely feel the cold or the rag you use to pat your skin dry. Your hand bumps the wall, but you’re only aware of it by the sound.
As you lift your head you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, but you can’t connect that that’s you. You know it’s what you look like, but as you look at your eyes it feels like you’re looking into another person’s. It unsettles you.
Sergei notices your hesitation. He tries to help you in the only way he knows how- by wrapping his arms around you, since he’s not the best with words.
You flinch away at the touch, his hand barely registering on your arm. It’s like a phantom touch, left by a ghost. But it’s not that his hand was light, your skin is just lacking sensation.
“(Y/N),” Sergei says gently.
“No, don’t touch me right now,” you shake your head rapidly, trying to move away in the enclosed space. “I’m going to panic and I really don’t want to throw up on you.”
Sergei nods, letting a soft “alright” fall past his lips.
The room suddenly seems too small, but the longer you think about it, wait, how big even are bathrooms?
Then you’re looking back at your hands, anywhere but the mirror, and wondering if they’re even connected to you.
Sergei is looking at you worriedly, making you feel even worse while simultaneously questioning if he’s even real, even here right now. That makes your heart rate speed up again, thoughts spiraling as you wonder if any of this is even real, if the whole world is fake or doesn’t exist or if you’re just a sentient Sim that’s had their third eye opened.
You press the heel of your hand to your temple, still put off by the lack of feeling, even as you press as hard as you can.
“Ok, that’s enough,” Sergei says quietly. He gently pulls your hand away from your forehead. He means to lower your hand gently, but you twine your fingers with his.
You stare at the way they mesh, squeezing them to check for more feeling. You must’ve done it too hard because Sergei flinches, trying to pull his hand away.
“Sorry, I didn’t-“ You stutter.
“It’s ok,” he reassures you, but you see red marks where your nails dug in.
You draw in more deep breaths, preparing for the walk back to the car. Sergei offers his hand, but you shake your head with a sad smile. You don’t feel like being touched right now when you don’t initiate it.
He smiles comfortingly, following when you lead the way out. You don’t even have to say much for him to know what’s going on. You suppose that’s what makes you feel so reassured.
nice.
I should’ve spent all the love I gave you on myself