#but i don’t like sandals enough to have a pair so

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 4/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Word count: 10 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Another long chapter, but it's the last one, so... Enjoy! ^^

The next night, you dream awake.

You didn’t want to sleep with your back turned against him, and König didn’t even need to scoop you into his arms. You went there by yourself, completely willingly. You were disappointed when he didn’t even try anything; he just fell asleep like a baby after the hangover that left him weak.

Your hand is on his chest, right over his heart, as you listen to his soft snore. It’s like the whole world has shrunk into this bed, like your entire life suddenly consists of him. You can’t even hear the birds, the occasional gust of wind, or the pair of sandals outside the tent going to a nightly pee. The only thing you can hear or see or feel is him.

His heart under your palm. His chest against your cheek. The slow, steady rise and fall of it, the push and pull of it like a tide. His leg, draped across your hip, enclosing you under a heavy body that clings to you like he never wants to let you go.

And…

No. 

It’s too stupid.

“Love” is something bards sing about. There’s no time for it in the real world; lust brings people together, and they multiply like birds and beasts. They simply flock together for warmth, food and survival. Love is the property of dreams and songs, something that happened at the dawn of time but now only occurs in tales and plays. Surely, a mountain giant knows nothing about love… He just wants to stuff his cock inside you and alleviate the burn of his loins.

But his words still linger.

”I have fallen in love with you.”

You repeat them over and over again in your head, snuggling even closer to him, your heart flaring into a small bonfire when he squeezes you in return through sleep. The warmth spreads across your chest, it makes your toes tingle, and the tingles rise up to your head like ale, bringing tears to your eyes. 

Why does he have to be like this…?

There’s a sudden crack of thunder outside, and it makes you startle and clutch him tighter. It’s soon followed by a downpour of rain, the weight of it like a blanket spreading across the land. The drops beat the tent with so much noise you fear the whole abode will collapse from the force of them.

Another crackle sends you to grip him with fear; a violent rip of lightning makes you bury your head in his neck. König mostly wakes up to your distress rather than the sounds of thunder and hail, rumbling softly to the crown of your head and drawing you closer to him. You’ve always been afraid of thunder because nothing can compete with the fury of the Sky Father. You whimper as another roar shakes the bed, the very earth beneath you, and the rain begins to beat the tent in full.

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” König mutters, unafraid and clearly about to fall back to sleep again. “Only sky father making love to his woman...”

His explanation of the horrible display of the sky god’s power wipes your mind blank for a moment. He uses the same name of the god as you, but the viewpoint is thoroughly foreign. Is this the sound of lovemaking to him? 

“Safe here,” he squishes you against him until it’s difficult to breathe. Your heart is still beating in your chest as König falls asleep, the arms around you relaxing just enough to allow you to breathe again. 

In the morning, you try to correct him on his strange thoughts about Sky Father. You tell him your people believe he’s fighting his enemies when it thunders, not… making love to anyone.

“Fighting or fucking,” he only shrugs. “Same noise.”

You open your mouth to explain the difference between fucking and lovemaking next, then decide it’s no use.

The weather is warm and the land is lush after the abundant rain. König takes you to a small stream and you risk to take a dip, delighted and relieved to have the opportunity for a quick wash. When you threaten to gut him when he sleeps if he takes a peek, König only laughs. Probably thinks it’s an exciting threat. Then he sits on the bank to work on a small piece of wood while you have your cold bath. He’s been carving it for a few days and has refused to show it to you, no matter how “nosy” you’ve been. It’s an unfinished piece, yes, but it still feels silly that a grown man is so secretive about a chunk of wood. You only now begin to understand that perhaps the statue of the Great Mother is not stolen. It’s not bought, and he hasn’t had it made. He carved it himself.

Shocked, you forget to keep an eye on him while you scrub and rub yourself in the stream. You never thought of him as a sculptor or even a carpenter, but apparently, some soldiers spend their leisure time in other activities than fucking and drinking and gambling.

Your hands meet the leather string of the necklace as you wash your hair, and you remember your vow. It makes your heart sink: it’s a beautiful day, the first of summer, and you have to let go of the loveliest thing König has ever given to you. You peek a glance at him: he’s looking so peaceful while carving the small figurine, with that signature smile his that always reveals itself through his eyes, warm and jovial, like he’s just a hunter or a fisherman having a break from a day of toil.

You strip yourself from the necklace and release it with a sullen breath. The spirits accept it hungrily, pulling it underwater the instant you let it go. The current carries it far away downstream, and you find your chin trembling, and not from cold. You have given your moonblood to Mother many, many times, but this gift is infinitely more valuable. Still, the most important thing is that the man you prayed for is alive and whistling happily on that bank.

And you’re not an oathbreaker… But König is. 

When you rise from the water, he steals a glance. Actually, he stares at you like you’ve particularly asked him to never rip his eyes from you. 

You pay the adoring beast no mind and rise from the stream with the pride of a queen, only to have it all robbed from you as you notice there are flowers placed there where you left your clothes. The crazy giant has actually plucked flowers for you.

It’s an odd thing to do because in your land, only children pick flowers. Usually, people give flowers to the gods. Or, mainly just to the Great Mother... It’s because She appreciates them. 

And you also notice your old dress is not where you left it.

“Where is it?” 

He extends his hands to the sides and shrugs, faking innocence so poorly that you don’t know if you want to shove or kiss him. You’re desperately trying to cover your womanhood from his searing stare – an attempt that, of course, makes your tits press together even more cutely than before. König doesn’t even know where to look when there’s so much of your sweetness on display. 

This man is so stupid and childish and simply unbelievable; hiding your dress the instant you are vulnerable and in your thoughts. You look around you, then up, and notice that he’s thrown the dress over a pine branch far above your reach. Of course.

“You’re a bully,” you turn your accusing gaze to him, hands now slowly curling into fists by your side. You’re not even angry: you’re just feeling... hot, and frustrated, and embarrassed, having to stand here in bright daylight, dripping wet and about to have another tantrum while naked. You’re starting to suspect that he probably enjoys it when you get in a pet. Maybe it makes his cock hard: to watch you stomp your foot at him, especially if you do it without clothes.

“Bully?” His eyes smile at you like he’s the son of Sky Father himself.

“It’s someone who… who tortures people,” you blurt, a bit more dramatically than you initially meant to. He bursts into laughter and laughs for a long time, either because you just called him precisely what he is or because you called him a torturer for doing a silly prank.

“Ach… Well, you are pretty,” he says after surviving something that was veritably not meant as a joke. As if you being pretty is some kind of an excuse for doing this stupid, childish stunt...

His stare sweeps over you like you’re merely property, his eyes darting between your pouty face and the glistening sex between your legs now that you’ve blessedly moved your hands out of the way. Then he notices that something’s missing, that there is no necklace resting above your breasts anymore. He takes a step and raises a hand, and for the first time ever, you wouldn’t even dream of shying away from his touch. He brushes your bare neck with a silent question and brief hurt in his eyes.

Gods, he can’t think you got rid of it because you despised it, can he...?

“The river took it,” you explain quickly and with genuine regret. It’s a lie, but you can’t tell him the real reason it’s gone. You can’t confess that you had to sacrifice it for his safe return.

“I really liked it,” you whisper while looking him straight in the eyes, stomach heavy with both lies and the horrible, sweet truth. König recuperates surprisingly fast and nods slowly, the caress rising to your cheek to console you.

“Don’t worry. I can make you a new one,” he promises stoutly, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into tears right there in front of him. “With wolf claws, if you like?”

“I don’t know… Sounds dangerous.”

“Hah. I kill my first wolf when I was fifteen.”

Your heart is bursting inside your chest – the songs of the bards never tell about someone being so goofy that you want to hug them until they stop speaking silly things. 

“I’m sure you did,” your lips quiver with a whisper of a smile. König takes in every crumb of your affection like it’s a blessing from the Mother below: his shoulders draw back everytime he senses you are appreciative of him or admire his strength. He’s even more proud when he presents the small carving he’s been working on. 

You’re now absolutely, vehemently sure that he has made the statue of the Great Mother himself. Because what you’re looking at is very similar to that statue, only far more detailed. The breasts and hips on this figurine are more proportional, and you could almost swear that the statue he just gave you is trying to depict you. It has your hair and your face, or then he has tried to capture the slightly pouting face of some other ungrateful woman. But you can’t shake the thought that you may very well be looking into your own eyes.

“For you,” he says above you, and you swallow tears for gods know how many times today. He even winks at you, incredibly playful, like this statue is now a cute little secret only you two know about.

“It’s–I didn’t know you… Uh. Thank you,” you stutter like a fool. You can’t ask if it’s you – you can’t ask a simple question because to hear his unabashed, proud answer would mean that you won’t be able to hold yourself back from kissing him.

You are starting to feel like… an idol of worship, almost. 

He lavishes you with gifts and flowers, he feeds you grapes and wine, he brings you his bloodied loot and asks you to bless his sword. He honours your purity and respects your wishes not to be touched and pilfered.

What else are you if not a goddess? 

Even the Mother in his satchel doesn’t get such fevered attention. He even carved a new statue for you. Of you.

Your senses become eagle-sharp as you realize just how much your suspicions are proving true. You think about the way he is always at your tits, as if calling forth good luck and abundance when he squeezes them every day and night. It’s almost like a ritual. Or how he tries to dress you in fine clothes, not just to show you around, but to make you feel appreciated. The way he protects and shelters you and lets you – no, demands you to – ride his horse while he exhausts himself on the road. How the selecting of the necklace now seems like a test, to prove whether you are a true goddess who favors a gift of bone and blood and amber over the pathetic shiny trinkets of men. 

And the way he hasn’t touched other women all this time; no, because he doesn’t keep other goddesses...

Just you. 

Only you.

…

He knows your tongue so well that you don’t practically need the translator anymore. König sends him away after you whisper in his ear that you don’t like him.

It’s another lie because what you really don’t like is how bothered he looks when forced into the company of you two. You don’t like the deep sighs and the weary looks he gives both you and your supposed lover who always insists that you sit on his lap even if there are other people in the tent. You don’t want to make the poor man uncomfortable, so you come up with a reason for König to send him away. It's quite apparent that you could ask for the moon and stars, and he’d figure out a way to give them to you.

When you ask him why, for the love of all the gods, does he even want to keep a Roman slave, he says it amuses him. You always thought it was an odd thing to do because you’ve never seen König spend time with his soldiers. He never gambles with them, never eats with them, never hunts with them. By separating himself from them he keeps up an illusion of himself as a walking, fighting myth who has forced half the world to its knees, and whose quirks are to keep a Roman slave and, now, a foreign fairy in his tent.

You start to understand that it's because he doesn’t feel like he belongs.

He doesn’t even want to belong. He doesn't make an effort to be a Roman even if, legally, you suppose he’s a citizen or at least a free man. You wonder if it’s his only weakness: being so different from everybody else. 

You walk in and out of camp like a free woman with him. To the forest, to the stream, and one day, to the ocean, not too far from where you used to gather clams. If you walked the shoreline long enough, you would end up near your old village.

You spend your entire day there, collecting pink and white shells, giggling as König takes a dip in the shivering sea. He even throws the hood away before walking into the foaming waves. You have to hold your breath as he comes out because his face is the complete opposite of what you thought you would see. He has stern features and some prominent scars above his lip and crossing the bridge of his nose; there’s one above the left eye, and his nose has been broken at least two times. He looks mean and dangerous and suffering, it’s true, but you’re not scared at all. In fact, your embarrassingly wet while he furrows his brows and looks down at his feet, otherwise proud and happy in his skin but now suddenly concerned that you might not like what you see.

“Ugly?” He asks bluntly, with such distanced but sharp pain that your breath leaves you entirely. The vision of him might have frightened you on the first night, it’s true, but now, you only think he’s handsome. In a crude way, perhaps... But still handsome.

“No,” you shake your head slowly, never taking your eyes off him. König takes in air as if he has been granted a pardon from a horrible crime, and your heart hurts – is this the reason he has clung to that hood? To conceal some old scars and to appear more menacing to friends and enemies?

He’s stronger than ever as he walks to you, unclothed and smelling of seabreeze and salt, like he was just born from there, sired by the ocean and the wind. You ought to pray to Mother but you know it will do you no good. It’s a rotten joke to want a man who has massacred your people, the ones you used to call friend and neighbour and kin. You feel like you’re betraying the memory of your whole village by wanting to sleep with the enemy. The enemy who worships you; who looks at you like you’re a goddess when you lean back to watch the night sky come alive with indigo and stars. The enemy who teaches you their names in his own tongue...

He points you to the Head of the Serpent and the Smith’s Street, then to the Nail that holds the sky in place. You have your own names for the stars but you like it when he introduces them to you, clumsy and excited. When he shows you the long cock of the hero your people call Hunter, your cheeks heat up. You try to repeat the name in his tongue (whatever lewd, brash northern hero it may be), and it makes him happier than ever to hear you speak his words.

“König,” you ask him when he's shown you all the stars he knows. “Why do you fight…?”

He turns to look at you, perplexed, and you word the question differently.

“What do you want?”

“...What do I want?”

“Yes. In this life.”

His brows furrow as he starts to think, and your love for him only grows. Has no one ever asked him that before? Has he ever even given it a thought...? 

He grabs a handful of grass and rips it from the ground, absentmindedly and deep in thought. He fiddles with it for a while, then throws it away, looking somewhere to the distant, generous sea.

“I want…children,” he says. “I want a home.”

König turns to look at you, so stern that it forces you take support from the earth beneath you.

“Home. Richtig?”

“Yes,” you whisper, “A–a home.”

But it can’t be...

It can’t.

It’s simply too crazy that the brutal, callous giant has been searching for a home all along. That the man who cuts off heads and spits out the flesh of his enemies is simply someone who has lost his home and has yearned back ever since. It’s too wild a thought that the Titan wants to raise a family and have many children.

“Don’t you have a home somewhere in Rome…?” 

“It’s only a house.”

He fidgets with more grass, then turns back to you again with honest curiosity.

“Do you want children?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Fee. You would be a good mother,” he determines right then and there, saying it so casually that you have no choice but to believe it. You want to change the topic, and quickly, now tugging at the grass yourself because you're feeling shy.

“König… What is Fee?” 

“Fee is… They are small women? Live in trees. Or flowers. Or everywhere,” he gestures vaguely all around you.

“You mean fairies,” you whisper, and he shrugs. If you say so. But you know you're talking about the same thing: curious little earth spirits, lively and wild. 

Your heart is burning; it’s scorching until there’s nothing left but sweet molten gold. Usually, this kind of burning has stirred in your chest when some old crone has told a good story at the fire during the turn of the year. Usually, you’ve felt this kind of thrill when you’ve heard the piper play for the forest during springtime, lulling the devious spirits back to the trees so that they wouldn’t enter lambs and goats and make them sick. You’ve only felt so alive when you’ve walked at the beach during midsummer with a desperate aching between your legs because you’ve felt so alone and yet so, so alive.

“They said you were a Titan,” you whisper, another hushed question on this night of nights. You feel like you’re having a conversation of the ages, even if it’s clumsy and plain. The night sky is blooming with stars, the sea is whispering its secrets, and there are so many unsaid things between you two, finally washing up on the shore. König is ripping out more tall grass, but only because he’s searching for the right words.

“No. No titan. Just king,” he shakes his head as if sorry that he has to disappoint you. “I was the king’s son. Before Rome came…”

He’s suffered the same fate as you then, a long, long time ago. You wonder where his people are now or if they are even alive anymore, if he is the last giant standing, the last remaining man of his folk from the mountains. If the ruins of his proud house have already turned to dirt and dust and soil, if his father’s head was left to rot on a Roman spear, his riches and wealth taken back to Rome as spoils and exchanged for wine and whores and slaves.

You can only imagine the fury and despair when a tall boy’s future and dreams crumbled into dust, to blood and tears and screams, to a tale that no one ever told.

“You’d make a great king,” you say, meaning it with all your heart. His whole face lights up with a smile; the sorrow is still present in his eyes, and you know the depth of its roots now. But the Romans never managed to kill his will to live.

“If I was king… I would choose you for my queen,” he says softly, and you thank the wind for drying an escapee tear that rolls out. Fate is shaking your ribcage like a rattle; the wind steals your tears like they’re a long-withheld gift.

He tells you his tale under the safety of the vast starry sky. It's only bits and pieces, but you understand enough from his clumsy words.

He tells you how he was brought to Rome as a slave, sold to the pits and how he rose to manhood and fame there. He fought in the great arenas you’ve heard so many gruesome tales about; he fought until he could buy his freedom. He forgot his people, his revenge, that he was a king. Not knowing what else to do, he took up arms again and became the thing he hated the most: a Roman soldier. 

He tells you about a woman who can see things that have not yet happened. He asked this seer if there was anything else for him in this life but death; he would give any offering that was needed if only he could find more life instead. He had already given money and offerings to all the fertility goddesses of Rome, to no avail. He had carved a statue of Venus to attract love, but it didn’t work. So many times he had wanted to throw it in the sea. Until the woman who sees told him he would find what he was looking for in his next campaign. When he promised he’d come back to kill her if she lied, the old crone had only laughed at him. 

The next day, he was discharged from his old unit and separated from those who spoke the same language as him. Everyone was afraid of an uprising that would have a giant at its head, so he was offered money and whores, even a position in politics, and lastly, a place in an elite unit with a better wage. They told him the troops were about to leave for the harsh frontier: a new campaign to bring glory to Rome. He chose the latter option immediately.

He turns to look at you. Bloodless, thin-lipped, shivering you.

“She said you would be pretty. Like a fairy.”

You hear the distant rumbling of the sea, endlessly soft. You feel the wind suddenly passing through the field, filling the cloak of a northern king who came all this way just for you. Even the stars are waiting for your next move. 

“I…” you start, already breathless. “The necklace… König, I’m so sorry. I had to give it to Mother.”

“Mother?”

“To the gods. So that you wouldn’t die in battle.”

Realization dawns on his face, driving away all doubt and confusion. He’s just as pleased as the day he gave you all those gifts, if not even more so.

“You make sacrifice for me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You can’t help it: a sob wrenches out of your chest as the first tears fall. “I’m sorry. I really liked it... I’m so sorry–”

König rises immediately, only to come to you and fall to a crouch. He draws you against his chest, your weeping face soon held right against his heart.

“Never say sorry,” he kisses your head, over and over again. “Never say sorry…”

The wind surrounds you both, soft and warm, as he rocks you back and forth. You hug him with all the strength a little fairy can muster, then raise your chin to look at him. You’re probably the most pathetic creature he has ever seen – you could swear there is no woman alive feeling as weak as you feel now. König cups your face gently, the look in his eyes that of a hunter who has finally caught up with his prey. Warm, merciful, loving.

“Fee… I can still taste you,” he says.

“I can still feel you,” you whisper back. A deer, felled. “But I don’t… I don’t like biting.”

“Biting…?” 

“Teeth.”

“Ja. I noticed.”

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You would let him bite you anywhere and everywhere now. You would actually kill for it if he only laid his mouth on you...

You laugh with leftover tears in your eyes, and your giant smiles back at you, so endearing that you feel like it’s the first day of the rest of your life.

“Do you like bath?”

…

You ease into the warm, almost too warm water with a sigh.

The slaves have had to toil the better half of the evening to heat such a large body of water, and you can’t even begin to imagine where König has gotten the pretty little clay bathtub. It’s the largest pottery you have ever seen; far too small for a giant like him but just enough for a fairy woman like you.

You wash yourself languidly, feeling like the queen of the whole wide earth. Someone has even poured some of the scented oils into the bath, and you could cry from happiness as the sweet scents envelop you. You wonder if the wife of any chieftain has ever experienced such luxury and warmth. 

König has the most pleased smile on his face when he sees how much you appreciate yet another gift of his. He pampers and spoils you so much that you threaten to turn into an overripe grape, too soft and sweet and juicy, unable to keep intact anymore. But there’s a price to be paid, apparently, as he watches you from across the tent, sitting in his chair and pulling back the tunic to reveal the the erection between his legs. It’s the biggest cock you've ever seen, and already standing tall and proud, like a soldier about to go to war.

Your lips part on their own; heat shoots between your legs so fast it knocks the breath out of you. He seems to love your attention and awe, because his cock gives a few pulls just from you staring at it. Pearl-white seed leaks out of the tip as he grabs it inside a strong fist and gives himself a few unhurried strokes. 

“König…?”

You’re breathless, but he’s not: he’s breathing heavily in that chair, powerful thighs spread wide, stroking the thick weapon between his legs while you feel like fainting in your bath.

“When will torture end?”

He's dark, dark and done with patience, and you don't know how to answer such a question. You don't even know where to look.

“Hm? You like to torture men?”

“No,” you whisper, cheeks hot and cunt ridiculously wet.

“Yes you do. A little bully, hmm?”

“König–”

“I’ll show what happens to bullies.”

He lets himself go and rises from the chair. Your mind is of no use to you now: all you can do is stare at that thing between his legs, pointing towards you like a road sign.

He walks to you, cock and gaze equally heavy, and gets rid of his tunic. Then he gestures for you to rise from the tub. You’ve spent enough time there in his opinion, and the water is indeed turning unpleasantly cool – but if you go to him now, you won’t be able to fight him. Not when you’re in such a pleased, lax, purring state. Perhaps that was the whole idea...

You rise slowly, then step out carefully, taking support from the edge of the tub and from his shoulder – and still almost collapse all over him as you try to remain on your feet. He holds you upwards while you try to avoid the murder weapon between his legs, but your giant is not as shameful as you: he grabs your butt and guides you flush against him. You meet his chest with a gasp, the length of him now trapped between you two.

“Wait, I’m—I’m still wet,” you try to peep, but it’s no use. He sweeps you off your feet, no doubt with the intention of carrying you to the bed. 

“I will lick you clean,” he looks at you like you’re already trapped, caught, and bled: such a weak little creature in his arms, trying to beg for mercy with its last dying breath. You cling to him as such, that’s for sure.

“Just... No biting. Please?” You whisper as he lays you on the bed.

“No biting,” he gives his valiant promise, accompanied with a confident flash of a smile.

Gods…

If he’d gotten rid of that stupid hood earlier, your legs would’ve been pudding. They would’ve been as far apart as the two villages east and west of here. That smile would have allowed him to infiltrate everything in between. Perhaps it’s a good thing he is not that clever… 

“Oh gods–” you gasp as he shifts down and lowers himself for worship. His breath hits you first, and the next thing you feel are his lips – still smiling – then the gods-forsaken beast gives you a kiss.

“Oh–”

There is a sudden silence following your moans, then you hear soldiers bursting into laughter outside your tent. They’re warming themselves by the campfire, no doubt, sharing stories about war and women, and now they’ve heard the first mewls of surrender from their hero’s tent, after weeks of quarrelling.

Your cheeks heat up as one of the soldiers utters a hurried sentence and mentions König’s name, after which the merry crew booms to laughter again.

Gods take the Romans and their stupid, lewd jokes...

You try to concentrate on the warmly lit burgundy ceiling as König carries on without paying any attention to what’s happening outside. They could march into the tent and try their best to rip him off your cunt, but you doubt if they would get him to move an inch. He's simply that drunk on your taste.

You wonder if his chin is already covered in your juices because his kisses are open-mouthed and hungry – he even tries to push his tongue inside you. The man has absolutely no shame when he's buried down there, groaning with approval as you roll your hips. You're rutting his face as shyly as you possibly can, and it makes him purr and rumble with bliss. The noise he makes is enough to make you sing too, so filthy that it earns you a whistle from outside.

Shit... They probably think he's fucking and hurting you with his cock – a scary prospect, yes, but you'll have to cross that bridge when you get there – and they couldn't be more wrong. If they only knew what their champion is doing to his slave, lapping and sucking his disobedient woman like a starved dog...

“You like mouth?”

It’s hungry, so dark, the way he asks if you like what he’s doing to you. It’s not the mad lust of a drunken man from a few nights ago; it’s sober, fierce greed with a clear purpose behind it. Your fingers find his hair and tug at it weakly, not to cheer him on, but to take support from something relatively stable. 

“Yes… Yes, just–"

“Gut,” he grins into your folds, coarse stubble scraping you deliciously raw. “I like this too. After I lick you enough, I will fuck you.”

Your fingers curl around his hair, giving him another involuntary tug.

Gods, make him stop talking... Just tie his tongue or something, make him shut up.

Please…

“I will bully you all night with cock. I know you will like. Hm?”

He prattles more nonsense in your cunt, and you can’t hear the men outside anymore. You can’t even see the lamps. You’re in a womb of pleasure, which is funny because there’s a grown man between your legs, dragging his tongue over your slit until you're shaking and crying on the bed. Yes, if this is a womb, you never want to leave...

And he’s not eloquent; you don’t even know what he is trying to do to you. He probably doesn’t know it himself. He’s not trying to fish for cues on what you like: he just does what he feels like doing, which is everything. He tries every single thing. He’s just happy to be down there, flicking and circling his tongue over your nub until you can’t take it anymore.

You're dangerously close, and rise halfway to push his head away because it’s just too much; it’s too much pleasure in one go. He gives you a husky laugh and fights your weak attempts to make him stop, the damned bastard. You’re too frail to resist him, and he knows too much already, repeating the torture until your hips buck up.

“Gut... Like that...?” He asks again, so eager to please that you have to stifle a sob.

“Yes... Yes, just like that,” you sigh while trying to stay in one piece.

“Guide me, little fairy,” he demands, excited like a young, hot recruit. Apparently it's no big deal for him to have his head tugged and shoved and dragged just for a woman's pleasure. It doesn't take away an ounce of his power to be your toy for a moment. Your sharp tongue has left you completely; it is you who is humbled as you guide him back to the right spot, jerking when he licks you just the way you wished.

It’s bad enough that you make a mess on his bed and moan like a paid woman, giving everyone in this camp a taste of what it sounds like when a giant bullies his fairy to the full. But can’t he keep his stupid, lovable mouth shut...

He’s making so much noise that you can both feel and hear him. His moans are hoarse, needy and deprived; they echo somewhere in your core, somewhere inside your most sensitive, aching place, just before he finds it, the right spot, and pushes his tongue inside you.

“Wait…” you gasp, convulsing on the bed now. What the hell does he think he’s—

“Wait—I’m…”

And then you cum, right into his mouth, with an arched back and quivering thighs, with such lewd sounds shooting out of your mouth that complete silence follows outside.

Whatever those soldiers had thought to happen here tonight, they clearly didn't expect to hear that… Nor the cries that follow, so nasty and wanton that König doesn't withdraw, not before you have clenched and cried your fill. He enjoys your peak to the last tremble, but you barely get to catch your breath before he leaves you. He doesn’t even give you a chance to caress his head as thanks for what he just did to you.

His mouth leaves you empty and cold as he rises, watching you like you're his best conquest. His cock is so hard it juts out, immovable like a rock and so intimidating that you stop breathing for a moment.

And he doesn't allow your breathless, shocked state go to waste: he grabs that horse cock and sets it on your flush, soaked lips, and pushes the head inside. More than just the head inside.

“Oh gods, oh fuck–”

Your legs are completely useless, falling to the side as he eases himself into you. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head when he hears you curse for the first time in his presence. More than just amused, he goes deeper still, delighted that he made you say a naughty word with his cock.

You can feel the stretch; you can feel every ridge, every vein, all his thickness filling you with purpose. You can do nothing but flutter your eyes as he takes you, finally, as his own.

And it must be some cruel joke of both Mother Earth and Father Sky that it prolongs whatever bliss he just gave you with his mouth. Your body won't stop having its pleasure; it welcomes him with a string of helpless whimpers. Even your cunt starts to squeeze him like it's the best thing in this world.

And he sees it. He feels it.

“Ja, little one. Time to fuck.”

He continues his journey inside, one massive palm landing on each side of your head as he leans over you.

“Einfach so… Trust me. Hmm?”

You only nod, completely silent and tame, waiting for him to give you more gifts. Mother knows this man is your downfall: your heart and soul are about to burst into flame when you look at him. You want him with your whole being; you want his love and praise so much you could cry.

“You want cock?”

“Yes,” you look up at him, eyes surely shining like stars. “Yes, yes, yes–”

“I will give you. Don’t worry.”

You sob as he withdraws, pulling the long, delicious cock almost completely out. He returns immediately when you whine from the loss. He feels so good, and so, so big… Fulfilling you entirely, every bit of you that was hollow and empty, every little space that needed loving is now his and filled with love.

“Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng,” he huffs and looks down as if to check if it’s true that he’s finally inside you. It could never fit in fully; you both probably knew that. But he’s trying his best.

“What does that mean?” You pant, impatient that he stopped moving.

“Too small... For me...” he laments. Or brags.

“Any woman is too small for you,” you mope underneath him, thinking about whether he has had women who have been able to take him fully in. Women who haven’t been “too small”.

König raises his eyes to you and smiles, revealing a row of white teeth, the scarred lip making his grin look pure and sweet even if he is a menacing man.

Stupid mountain giant… He's just proud of not being able to fit inside you. Your lower lip juts out with a pout, and the cock inside you responds immediately with a pulse. You can feel it — he's fucking excited about you getting angry at him again.

There is a flash of mischief in his eyes – darned bastard – just before he swoops down to attack your neck. Your tits get crushed under a solid chest as he nuzzles close to your ear and gives you lots of love and little bites. He starts to fuck you slowly, and there's nowhere you can escape now, nowhere you can flee his mouth or teeth or cock.

“König, you promised–”

“Aber… You are more tight this way?” 

The breathless laugh that follows leaves you blinking. Of course he can feel the way you tighten around him every time he gives you a little bite.

“Gods, I hate you…” you whisper on his shoulder, thinking about biting him there in return. König laughs in your neck again – your threats of hate have long past lost their intimidating nature and are more like love confessions to him now. And perhaps that’s what they are.

He makes love to you hard and good, and it’s embarrassing, how you're about to cum again around his cock. You were supposed to have your revenge by showing him you have teeth too, but find yourself biting your lip instead, trying to tone down at least some of the filthy sounds that try to escape you.

He's not too rough, at least not yet, happy with listening to the poorly stifled whimpers that follow his every thrust. You thought he'd rail you like an animal, but he seems to settle for making love to you while biting and groping you all over. He savours every thrust like he savoured those grapes you fed him: slowly and intently, with passion instead of greed.

You're squeezing him with everything you have as he rocks you back to the edge. His grunting only make it all worse: he doesn't even try to be quiet and decent, and it's driving you to madness. Why does he have to be so noisy? Why does he have to fuck you so that everyone can hear just how good you feel?

Every soldier in this camp can hear both your moans, his hoarse ones and your weak ones, merging together until you do sound like animals in heat... You’re so wet that some of the men must hear the music of that, too. You never knew your cunt would be so hungry and needy, least of all for a man like him. You grip him as the waves approach, rich moans turning into pathetic little cries as his cock works you open.

“Again…?” He smiles a surprised laugh on your neck. The waves hit you before you can tell him to shut up.

The noise you make is even more obscene this time, and you barely catch a glimpse of his drowsy, victorious stare before your head falls back. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to take in the most powerful orgasm and the most powerful cock of your life without having to see that stupid, happy face of your lovesick giant.

“Nein,” he grabs your jaw inside a huge but gentle hand. “Eyes open.”

He won't even let you cum in peace, but you do as you’re told, finding him watching you like a stormcloud or a god. He watches your every tremble, every whimper, every sigh. He sees the full-blown love in your eyes, and you wonder… Is this what the bards sing about in their stupid songs? 

…Weakness?

Because your heart hurts and your eyes sting, your thighs tremble and your cunt is far too wet and open for him to plough. If this is love, it hurts; it burns far too sweet. It leaves you utterly weak.

“Little one is needy,” he comments softly on your second downfall.

“You’re the one who’s needy–”

Your already weak argument ends in a gasp as he reminds you who you belong to with another good, deep thrust.

“I will put a child in you,” he rumbles, a threat or a promise. “If we do this every night… You will have my child.”

“Then let’s do this every night,” you whisper beneath him, your own purr of a threat. As if you didn’t know how babies were made… To your silent joy, König stops to catch his breath or your words; you’re not entirely sure which. You decide to up the stakes, just to make him fall with you.

“And every morning too?”

“Ach, du kleine–” he crumbles, voice turning to dust from your innocent suggestion.

If you thought he was a little too in love with you before, the look on his face now is worth all the gold in the world. You could swear that your kind question is the sole reason for this man cumming on the spot. Perhaps your body is to blame for it too; he couldn't keep his paws off when you were being sulky and difficult, so how could he take it when you're pleased and loving and all puffed up?

You see the brief flash of vulnerability, the mortal fragility in his eyes just before he shoots his load with a painful-sounding groan. The sound that leaves him is a mixture of desperation and release – even giants can cry, you think as you watch how beautifully he comes undone. He makes sure his seed is sent deep inside you by burying his cock into you, as far as it can go; the intention behind it is so clear that you wouldn't be surprised if you got heavy with a child after this first time.

He falls on top of you after, drained and spent and body heaving from exertion. There’s no other sound in the night but the satisfied panting of you two: the soldiers outside are rendered silent by the sounds of true lovemaking, even the wind spirits are hushed tonight.

You’re completely filled, and with his cock still inside you, he’s preventing any precious seed from escaping. You’re only glad he’s too weak to move because you’d happily keep him here forever, inside and on top of you like this.

“You are pleased…?” He turns his head a little, sounding worried enough to make you hug him tight.

“Yes. Very much,” you whisper, and he moves to rise and look you in the eyes. 

“Gut.”

It’s cute to be nose to nose like this with him, eyes locked together, lips only a hair’s breadth apart. He looks so intoxicated and happy without even being drunk that you break into a small laugh, eyes brimming with happy tears, the washing away of relief. He smiles too, then laughs with you.

The soldiers outside might think it an odd business: to make a woman moan and laugh with a cock. You were brought to this tent screaming, and he made you scream again, just not the way they thought.

The sound of your mutual laughter rises in the tent, up towards the heavens, surely making even the Sky Father smile above.

…

You do it every night, and every morning, too.

Sometimes, you do it during the day after bathing in the stream. After washing and playing in the water, you rush to the shore together, but König is always faster than you. He throws your dress away or holds it up above his head, far from your reach, smiling like the most innocent man in the world. He's far from innocent, though: his cock hangs heavy between his legs, swelling just from seeing you angry and flustered and wet. 

“Bully,” you accuse, utterly in love and out of breath, earning you another attack of a love-hungry giant. You forget the dress when he kneels on the grass, kisses your stomach and your thighs, keeps you in place for his mouth with two strong arms and a love that turns your whole body weak. 

“Pretty,” is the only thing he breathes as an answer before he scoops up your leg and spreads you open for his mouth.

Your head rolls back with a choked sigh, the drops on your skin dry on their own. Somehow, you end up on the grass with his mouth glued on you. The sun plays in your hair; it dances on your face as he gives you more and more until you know, you just know that if you do this every night and morning and day, you will definitely have his child.

He tells you his real name, his true name, the one his mother gave him. You moan it in his ear just before you cum around his length. Sometimes, it makes him purr; other times, it makes him grunt. Once, you hear a soft, pitched whine. 

He’s more rough when you’re on your knees. You’re shy and wet when he commands you to prop yourself on your elbows and show him your cunt. He licks you from front to back, feasts on you until your breaths turn to shivers. You squeeze your eyes shut from how obscene the scene must look; you hope to all the gods the Roman slave won’t come to ask his travel guides back when König finally rises and takes a wide stance behind you. He sets himself on your opening and pushes in, fat and greedy. 

You can only whimper as he starts the thrusts, starved and slow, picking up the pace and holding you in place by the hips when you approach the brink of another collapse. You fear you will lose your mind if he keeps doing this to you every day. The only thing you hear are the breathless, warm grunts of encouragement behind you.

“You can take it. You can take it. Already took it, little one…”

He won’t stop, not even as you cry out loud, the cock hitting you in places that make your legs nearly give in. He won’t stop even as tears brim, not even as you start to sound like a tortured animal; no, he just tightens his grip on your waist and pounds you harder. You cum with a moan that would make Roman whores blush, but your lover doesn’t mind at all. He cums right after you, with a roar that could raise the reverend dead from their mounds.

Afterwards, he’s gentle again. He gathers you in his arms like his most valuable possession, caressing and breathing you in, giving you a soft kiss behind your ear.

“You’re... mean,” you try to remember how to breathe as he gives you more of those hungry kisses. You already know he likes it when you’re so spent you don’t have the strength to squirm or fight him.

“Ja. And you become more nice when I bully you,” he whispers in your ear. “More calm… Less difficult.”

“Well, you don’t,” you turn inside his hold, eyes shining brighter than the stars or even the sun. “Crazy man…”

“You have robbed me of my sword and shield, it’s true. Robbed my heart too. Little thief.”

“Thief? You’re the one who stole me…!”

“And I’ll never let you go.”

You wriggle a hand to cup his face, meeting his eyes with such helplessness that it’s not even funny anymore. If he’s joking or playing with you now, you’ll kill him with his own swords.

“You promise?”

“I make a vow,” he declares ceremoniously, with a hand on his heart. But you doubt that he’s playing any games; you wonder if this man is even capable of lying or deception. You hug him so tight that he has to let out a grunt – surprised and pleased – after which you have to bury your face in his neck so that he won't see your tears.

“I am in love with you, Fee,” he whispers in your ear while caressing your hair, ever poetic for such a simple man. “Tell me. Do you like me too…?”

“Yes,” you breathe a half-cry, half-laugh in his neck. “Yes, you crazy giant. I like you too.”

You rise just enough to kiss him. It’s hungry and delivers everything you can’t say. You can’t tell him you love him; you simply can’t. You’re not ready for the painful happiness it would bring forth. He stabs you full of it anyway.

“I will never let you go. Never. Not when I finally found you, little one...”

…

Summer comes.

The camp moves lazily to its next destination, but when the next battle comes, König refuses to fight. 

His soldiers blame you, of course. You have bewitched him with your softness, making him soft and spineless as well. It is unheard of that a warrior like him would fall like this: out of some woman’s underhanded spell rather than dying gloriously in the field by a barbarian blade or two. Even poison is considered better than this.

No one understands that there is no hex. The war is still being fought, this time inside his soul. It’s not just you preventing him from taking up arms; it’s something else, something old and deep-rooted you've managed to stir in him. Something ferocious, something that has been asleep for a long time, something that is far from all things soft.

You two sneak out from the camp after the bulk of the army has marched away. He takes you to the seaside again, to a wild, roaring shore. You laugh and bask in the sun, swim in the sea and eat the first berries of the season. You lie on the tall grass, naked as the day you were born: it's simply too hot to wear anything except your glowing skin. König starts to ask you peculiar questions while tracing the soft line of your spine. 

He asks what kind of house you would like to live in, and tries to find out in a roundabout way if you would like to live in a forest or in the hills. You treasure the sound of waves, and König likes the sound of the wind in trees, but you both love steep hills and the open view of plains. You get the idea that he may want to retire somewhere in the near future. 

He tells you he is not a good fisherman but can hunt everything that moves. He is good with a spear, with traps and the bow, and he’s tired of hunting humans who only wish to live in peace. The arena he could understand, but the war on foreign lands, not. And if you begin to swell with his offspring, the Roman encampment at war is the last place for a sweet little fairy like you. He asks what kind of village you used to live in and is somewhat sad to hear all the things you tell him. He says it sounds like home, the one he was taken from many years ago. 

When you return to the camp, it’s like you two are a different species altogether, two wild animals who sneak from the gates back to the flock, back to being human, back to being caged and tamed and stunted. The grumpy, tired soldiers witness your wildness and happiness with sullen distaste. To them, your appetite for freedom is the filthiest, most treacherous thing in the world. 

The commander of the troops summons König at his feet and threatens to flog him if he ever skips a battle again. He’s told that only barbarians ignore orders like this: at the turn of a whim or a woman or wind. If he doesn’t remember who he is, not the reckless murderer of his youth but a man reborn, a noble Roman citizen, he will risk descending into apathy and greed again. Was this the case, Rome will guide him back to fold again by the crack of a whip if it has to.

That night, you tell him that you love him. Wherever he goes, you will go. That night, when you’re lying in his arms, sweaty and spent and thoroughly happy, he speaks words so wild it shakes the whole tent with a wind.

“If I kill the soldiers, will you come with me?”

It’s only a mutter, a murmured, careful whisper, but it makes you rise to sit and place a hand on his chest for extra support.

“Kill the soldiers? You mean… Kill the Romans?”

“Ja. All of them.”

The shock quickly makes way to disbelief. Can such a thing even be done? He’s a giant, but he’s still just one man. But König doesn’t look restless at all; he looks like a man who has finally made a decision he should have made years ago. He looks like someone who is at peace with their soul.

"Where would we go?" You whisper weakly, unsure if he has given this enough thought or thought at all. It’s now the wanderer in him who speaks, the adventurer who fears nothing because he has already lost everything – and found the most precious, essential thing. 

You. Himself…

Free will.

“Wherever you want.”

“What if you get killed…?”

“You take treasure and horse and go.”

…

Your mother always said that it's useless to sway a man if he has chosen to stand up and fight. She told you that the best you could do is go grab a sword and join him.

That is why you give him your blessing – your full, ardent blessing.

It makes him stronger than ever: were he to go out there with nothing but his skin, he would be victorious. The oak that hears your magnificent spell shivers from fear above you as you call down earth, fire and wind. 

You call the spirits from below to guide his feet and make them swift and silent as a feather in the wind. You call down the lightning from the sky to accompany his sword as he deals his blows. You cloak him with the fury of the dead; they will smite down his enemies when they catch even a glimpse of him. You shroud him with the Mother's blessing so that he will be untouchable, unstoppable, invincible as he deals death among the Romans.

It’s a terrible spell; even the moon withdraws into a cloud when She hears it. Not even the lady of silver twilight dares to reveal this giant to the Romans as he’s about to descend upon them.

He rises with the power of fifteen men and gives you a kiss that nearly topples you. He smiles before he leaves you, and never looks back as he goes to do the deed of a legend.

You watch the massacre up from a hill. A safe distance from the camp, but close enough to see how König destroys a whole cohort by himself. The plant you mixed into the “reconciliation wine” he gave his soldiers and the commander before nightfall makes it laughably easy because most of the men are still half asleep when they burn inside their tents. The oil spilt on the dry dirt and linen roars aflame now with the help of the wind and earth spirits as König torches the camp. The occasional few soldiers that rise to meet him with fear in their stare are already broken by your spell before his swords impale them. 

The old translator is the only Roman who wasn’t given a cup of foxglove wine because he was König’s slave, and now he can see that he is blessed among men. The God of War faces him with swords pointing to the ground, fury planting his feet wide, and it takes the old Roman a while to understand that he’s the only man who gets to walk out of this camp unharmed. As grumpy and unsociable as he is, you wish him good fortune on his future journeys, even utter a quick protection spell to shroud him as he leaves towards his destiny on enemy land.

The slave women, sober, confused, and free, run amock to gather weapons, cloaks, food, and valuables before escaping the camp. König doesn’t even notice them, and they pay little mind to the enraged god ramming through puny mortals because they’re too busy getting out of the burning castra.

How fitting it is that the only people escaping the hellfire are a few beaten women and an old, weak-calved Roman – every able-bodied soldier burns inside his tent or meets their end at your lover’s blade.

The wind spirits help spread the fire so eagerly that you begin to fear that König won’t make it out in time. You whisper prayers into your fist, curled around the Mother who has already given you so much. She has also taken away everything; like seasons, she has reaped and sown, but if she reaps your lover now, you will walk into the sea.

Mother is merciful and returns him to you, unharmed and glorious. He's the same ferocious beast you saw half a moon ago, and also the same ferocious man who was inside you this very morning. You see a god of war, and he sees the mother of life and death, perhaps, because his first words to you are a ripe offering.

“I avenged them all,” he says when he reaches you, thrumming with victory and smelling of smoke and ruin and blood.

He has been born again; he has walked to a new dawn through fire and death and returns to your arms like you two have known each other since the beginning of time. You’re not sure if he talks about his fallen ones or your fallen ones, or everyone who has fallen to these particular Roman spears. You’re not sure if this is his downfall because what you’re looking at is only the downfall of the Roman campaign on your lands. You and König are very much wild and spirited and free. If this is a downfall, it feels like being lifted towards the sky. You see in his eyes that he feels the same as you.

The whole world is new as you leave towards a new life. Sun rises, and takes years off your backs. You wash him in the sea and kiss the salt away from his lips, and it feels only right that he takes you on the grass after slaughtering your enemies.

You bury the statues and the bronze sword in your old village, long abandoned and thoroughly looted. The old woman is in her hut, dead as a stone, and she finally looks happy, with a calm little smile on her face and flowers in her hand. She looks like a young girl, almost, ready to meet the spring of her life.

"Ready for adventure, little one?" König smiles as he raises you to his horse. He takes direction from the sun while you look down at his happy, golden form – your god, your life, your love. 

Your new beginning.

...

Translations:

Richtig? - Right?/Correct?

Einfach so - Just like that

Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng - Damn… Gods, you are tight

Aber… - But…

Ach du kleine… - Oh you little…

Scheisse - Shit/Fuck

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x female reader #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #konig x you #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig smut #könig fluff #könig imagine

[celtic-crossbow]

You’re Holy to Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria Warnings: Sexual themes; thigh riding; minor degradation; brat taming Summary: Daryl knows just how to make you behave. A/N: Thank you @thewalkingdilf for letting me use your idea. I hope I did it justice!

©celtic-crossbow 2024. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.

“Are you done yet?” You were whining, knowing damn well how it grated on Daryl’s nerves when he was focused on something. Right now, that focus was his bike. You absolutely knew better, but carried on anyway. “Come on, Daryl!

The archer was on one knee, eyes narrowed in concentration. At the next mewl of his name, he dropped a wrench with a loud clatter. You had been attached to his hip— apparently in every way except the one you wanted —since leaving your shared room that morning. Not that he minded. It was nice to feel loved, to feel wanted. “Listen, sunshine, I got a lot to do, so why don’tcha go on home an’ bug Carol for a bit?”

“Carol can’t help me.” You pouted from directly behind him. Biting your lip, you drew your finger through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “Come on, I wanna play.” You huffed, pressing a foot against his leg to get his attention focused on you. 

In such close proximity, Daryl could practically smell your arousal and he shivered. “You’re bein’ awf’ly needy right now. Ya really should go to the house.” When you didn’t answer, he nearly turned to address you again but then he felt you pressing yourself against him. Knelt as he was, your center was against the back of his neck, warm through the fabric of your skirt. “Better stop now, Y/N. Ya don’t let me finish up here, I ain’t gonna let you finish for a while.”

“Daryl.” You whined, moving your hips side to side. “Are you still not done with your other girlfriend? I need you now.” Your fingertips found their way into his hair again, scratching and lightly tugging. “You know there’s a better place to stretch those fingers.”

He had just retrieved the wrench only to drop it again, this time reaching it to wrap his fingers around your wrist. With a growl, he stood, turning to loom over you in a way you would have found intimidating if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand. 

Oh boy, you were in for it now. 

“Why ya gotta be such a brat?” His tone held no heat, but there was a threat there; the type of threat that had a rush of arousal soaking through your panties. You blinked up at him with a coy smile. “Ya knew exactly whatcha was doin’, didn’tcha? Can’t go one day without that greedy lil’ pussy bein’ filled, can ya?”

“What on earth will you ever do with me?” Your smile remained and only fueled the lust burning through the archer. 

“I know exactly what m’gonna do with ya.”

His eyes narrowed and you gulped at the same time as your cunt clenched around nothing. His large hands gripped your hips tightly, just enough for the slightest amount of pain. When he walked into you, you began to back up, allowing him to lead you to wherever it was he wanted you. 

Sliding an arm around your waist, he leaned to swiped the other across his workbench, the tools and parts crashing and clattering on the hard floor. Hopefully Aaron didn’t come running to check things out because your panties were already being dragged down your legs. 

Biting your bottom lip, you slipped your feet from your sandals and stepped out of your underwear, watching with warm cheeks as Daryl lifted them to dangle between you. The center was darkened, drenched with your slick. Those electric blue eyes slid over to you while he twirled the garment in the air with his index finger. 

“Messy girl. C’mon then.” He let your panties fall and reached for your hips again, a squeak leaving your lips as he pushed you down onto his left thigh. “Wanna cum so bad, go ahead.” He smirked when your head tilted. He wanted you to ride his thigh? 

Daryl was patiently waiting you out, his grip firm but not guiding. You let your hips roll experimentally, watching him for affirmation. All you received was an arched brow. 

“But, Daryl—”

“But nothin’. You wanna cum, make it happen.”

You huffed, pouting. Maybe if you did as he asked, he’d fuck you until you saw stars. With that motivation in mind, you ground yourself down and thrust your hips forward, the rough denim grazing your clit just enough to make you jolt. It was easy to find a rhythm after that. 

“Atta girl. Gotta work for it.” He never moved, his leg steady and grip solid. You had to admit, it felt good. You likely couldn’t cum like that but it was a nice way to kickstart that fire low in your belly. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He cooed at you, chuckling when you whined in reply. “Feel good?”

“Uh huh.” You reached forward for those broad shoulders, holding tightly to help you balance when your thighs began to burn. You could feel the dampness you were leaving smeared over his jeans, the slick lessening the friction you so desperately needed. “Daryl.” 

“Nope. Can’t help ya, sunshine. Gotta learn your lesson. Them’s the rules.”

“But—but you’re gonna fuck me, right?” You didn’t stop grinding, your hands coming down to rest over his, silently pleading with him to take pity on you and help. When he stayed silent, you mewled and jutted out your bottom lip. “Right?”

“Ain’t nothin’ goin’ in that pretty pussy tonight.” The whine you responded with made his cock twitch but he resisted.

You were teetering on the edge, desperately alternating between bouncing and grinding, searching for that angle that would bring you relief. It felt so so good but left you a whimpering, blubbering mess. Maybe if you touched yourself, you could coax your orgasm to the surface. 

Your fingers barely brushed the tuft of hair above your slit before his hand left your hip to slap it away. Daryl tutted. “Nuh uh.”

“Oh, god, Daryl. I’m so close. I just need—”

“Ya should’a thought ‘bout that ‘fore ya acted out.” He held you steady, fingers digging into your flesh. Watching you work to bring yourself to climax had him straining against his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bend you over his bike and pound into you until you were screaming loud enough to worry the couple inside. But he wouldn’t. 

“Please, fuck! Please, Daryl!” Sweat was dampening your shirt, your breasts bouncing, nipples hard against the fabric. Dirty girl, you hadn’t worn a bra. Just for him. 

“C’mon, girl. That’s it. Look atcha, gettin’ yourself off on my thigh. Go on, make yourself cum. Ya don’t need me, right?”

“I need you. I need you, please!” You threw back your head, bringing up your hands to squeeze your breasts, pinch your sensitive nipples. Trying anything and everything to reach that precipice. Thankful he allowed you at least that stimulation. 

“So, so pretty like this. Ya’d like for me to fuck ya right now, wouldn’cha?”

“Yes! Fuck me, please!” Your hips were moving erratically, warmth and wetness seeping through the thick fabric to his skin. He was extremely close to giving you what you wanted. 

“Nope. Just look too good like this.” Each sound, each ah ah ah was driving him crazy but he just didn’t have it in him to stop you. You were a vision. Your hair falling around your face, damp strands sticking to your neck. Tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your plump lips open with the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard spilling past them. If he wasn’t careful, he’d cum in his jeans just watching you. 

There was a drawn out moan that broke off into a whine. Your hands dropped to Daryl’s forearms, nails biting into his skin while his fingers continued to hold firm to your hips. 

“I can’t, Daryl! I can’t!”

“Yeah, ya can.” You rutted against him hard and fast, finally finally feeling that dam within you beginning to break. Gritting your teeth, you rode him hard, actually managing to rock him against the bench. “C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me.”

The coil within you snapped, pulses of pleasure driving hard straight down to your throbbing clit. The wanton moan of the archer’s name ended with a shout, strong hands grounding you as you writhed and shook, soaking his thigh with your essence. 

You came down slowly, hips still jerking sporadically from the overstimulation of being pressed against his leg. At your content hum, he released you and let you fall forward against him. 

“Gonna let me work in peace now?” He chuckled when you had to force yourself to lean back far enough to blink at him with heavy lidded eyes. 

“Mhm.” With the laziest of smiles, you stood, covering your mouth when your movement revealed the mess on his jeans. “I should go get you another pair. You can change out here and I can take those—”

“What makes ya think we’re done here?”

Your mouth snapped shut, brows raising. Daryl stood and guided you to sit on the workbench with gentle fingers on your biceps. You didn’t have a chance to question him before he started working at his belt. It was then you noticed the prominent bulge in his jeans. 

“Gotta teach that mouth a lesson too.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl x reader smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #Spotify

[jaegersdevil]

dreamland [satoru gojo x reader]

summary: on a mission to thailand, you and satoru realise you actually like like each other w/c: 1.3k / cw: idiots in love ig?? a little rushed masterlist

“You need anything?” The question broke the silence of the thick, humid air. A light touch grazed your upper arm in concern, and you looked up to meet the azure gaze upon your face. “Water, snacks, a smooch?”

“I’m okay, ‘Toru,” You scoffed, squinted through the relentless sun rays on your body, and shook your head at the taller male. “And I definitely do not need a smooch.”

He leaned down slightly, his face appearing in front of you. “Are you sure? Because I heard Shoko and Utahime talking about a certain someone’s crush—”

“Satoru,” You interrupted, nudging your shoulder into his arm, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment at the mention of your best friends speaking of such things behind your back. “Quit talking shit. We’ve things to do.”

With his fair eyebrows and hands raised, he turned to face you, walking backwards. “Fine.” 

“Fine.”

“But,” He slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to peer at you and winked. “Don’t pretend I don’t know exactly who and what they were talking about.” 

If he saw the falter in your step, he didn't say. “Keep dreaming, Gojo. Get moving.”

Yaga had sent the pair of you to Thailand under the ruse of a reward for your handwork – you’d rolled your eyes when he handed you a manila folder, but Satoru was ecstatic to travel with you. And despite the steep temperatures and sticky humidity, it had been an experience like no other: fruit juice dripping down chins, salty hair, flirty teasing, bright smiles, karaoke in busy restaurants, sandy feet, warm cheeks, running through sudden downpours, private villas, and the street markets that provided Satoru with enough gifts for you to last a lifetime. 

A clap in front of your face struck you from your daze. 

“Got it!” Satoru exclaimed, opening his palms to show the squashed mosquito between his hands. He stepped back beside you and swung his arm over your shoulders, to which you shrugged off sheepishly.

“Gross,” You mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses and checking your phone. The cursed spirit was around here somewhere…

“You know, I love being here with you…”

Rolling your eyes at his casual flirting and the familiar warmth filling your cheeks, you stopped walking and looked to your left. There. 

You took a step toward the abandoned hospital. It’d taken two buses and four taxis to get here, and you weren’t wasting any more time not exorcising this curse when you headed to the building’s entrance. 

“…and I thought Yaga was up to something when he mentioned this trip, but I truly believe—hey!”

You ignored Satoru, who stood a few ten yards away with his arms up. Holding up your hand to silence him, you peered into the window of the facility. Beside a few dusty chairs, it was empty. 

“Don’t run off without telling me,” He grumbled when he stepped beside you. “What if you got hurt?” 

You tilted your head. “I’m standing here uninjured, aren’t I?”

“You are so—” 

The door creaked open when you pushed on it. “Let’s go.” 

Satoru swore he was pointing lasers at you when his eyes met the back of your head. He mimicked you quietly, throwing his head back in exasperation before following you. 

Glass cracked under his sandals when he stepped through the main lobby, sidestepping a stray IV pole. You were already heading up the stairs on the other side of the building when Satoru pushed his sunglasses over his hair. The dense cursed energy of something lurked nearby, and he was sure as hell not going to let it near you. Yes, you would be pissed, he thought as he wandered the lower corridors, but he’d rather have you angry at him than dead. 

When did you get to the 16th floor? You thought as you passed the sign on the stairwell. Clasping your phone firmly, you hopped over fallen wheelchairs and discarded papers with agility, careful not to make a sound. You could feel the cursed energy far more on this level than any other, and it was just a matter of steps until—“Satoru!” 

The panic in your voice was palpable, and Satoru couldn’t move his legs fast enough as he took the fire stairs two at a time, his heart seemingly working over time both in exertion and anxiety. 

Crashing through the door to the sixteenth floor, Satoru paused—a burly deep green creature twisted over you, its claws disturbingly close to your throat. 

The curse giggled manically at the sight of you, one of its many talons brushing your cheek softly. With hurried breaths and glassy eyes, it was the first time Satoru had seen you caught off guard—it was terrifying.

“Dirty humans,” The curse leered, bending down to swipe its tongue along your collarbone. You recoiled in disgust, daring a look back at Satoru, who stood with his eyes focused on the green thing above you. “So repulsive to look at, but so tasty.”

Satoru’s scoff caused the curse to break its gaze from you. 

“Little thing about humans…” The white-haired male teased, his words light. “We don’t really like it when the people we love are about to get eaten.”

You closed your eyes at Satoru’s sentence but had no time to think it over when the curse groaned, unfolding to its full height. “What a pity.”

“It is!” Satoru laughed dryly, stepping over debris. “Because I hoped to have so much fun with you, but this will only take a second.”

Clenching your fist tightly, you flicked your pointer finger out, the action prompting the rumble of concrete in the corner of the corridor to form together. But with the curse’s focus on the male behind you, it didn't notice the lingering mass of rock at its rear. Perfect. 

And when you felt the familiar suffocation of the Limitless technique, Satoru expelled the tiniest flash of red from his fingertips. You threw your arm up, and with the collective strength of both techniques, the curse was crushed between Limitless and your wall of solid stone until it was purple sludge. There was a quiet moment before Satoru rushed toward you.

You coughed at the feeling of guts on your body as he checked you over for injuries. His hand held yours tightly, and he didn’t care when his sunglasses slipped off his head and cracked on the floor. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, though you think it was more to himself than to you. 

“I’m okay,” You reassured him, resting your other hand on his cheek. “And you’re okay.” 

Satoru shook his head. “I don’t care about me.”

Sighing, you ran your fingers through his hair. “I do, so let me look at you.” 

Pink dusted his sunkissed cheeks, and when you finished running your eyes over him slowly, he stood, pulling you up with him. 

“I thought you were gonna die there.”

You looked up at him in shock. “I didn’t.” 

“Why?” He asked, his forehead creased. 

“Because the rock I formed would’ve taken him out instantly,” You said, reaching to flick his forehead. “And because you’re here.” 

Satoru’s expression switched instantly, blue eyes bright as they flickered between yours. His heart squeezed in his chest at the fondness in your gaze and the feeling of your arms circling his waist. 

“Can we go home now?” Satoru asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I wanna take you out.” 

And this time, you didn’t shrug his arm off. “You're not joking this time?"

Satoru's eyes widened and he mumbled your name softly. "It was never a joke. Not to me."

You were silent in contemplation until Satoru's lips pressed tenderly against your temple, and you knew you'd been too blinded by his usual teasing to see the good, genuine intentions behind his every move toward you. And now you'd do anything to keep it.

So, you closed your eyes, your chest tingly and warm and full of confidence. "Satoru, you can take me out anywhere if you provide the smooches.”

A cackle escaped him. “Oh, that can definitely be arranged.” 

#satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #— ann writes!

[chaotic-iguana]

lovers’ spat, part i

miggy is an oblivious overworking idiot and fails to see you’ve had a bad day. he eventually makes up for it, though. (there will be a smut follow-up)

warnings: no smut (yet). just some nice angst (the girls are fightinggggg hehehe)

it starts with a missed alarm. then a sip of too-hot coffee burning your tongue. being late to work, getting yelled at by your boss, then by a client and finally by some randomon the fucking street when you’re walking home and he’s catcalling you and you refuse to look his way. 

so yeah. it’s been a shit day. 

but you’ve opened a portal to nueva york, you’re close to hq and you know migs will be inside and ready to take care of you. so all hope is not lost. yet. you burst through the double doors, half-sprinting to the elevator to reach his…lair? office is too mild for it, really. (eh, miguel’s a moody guy. it fits his vibe.)

you’re just about to walk in but you’re stopped by the call of your name paired with a babbling baby behind you. twisting to see the top of mayday’s head disappear behind him, you watch as peter b walks towards you with a grimace on his face and purple blooming under his eyes. 

“are you…alright? you look a bit rough.” it sounds funny as you say it - take one look in the fucking mirror and you’d be saying it to yourself - but you can’t stop yourself from asking. he does look tired. and upset. which is entirely unlike him, but they do say parenthood is an adjustment. plus, it can’t be easy balancing being a spider and a dad and a journalist all at the same time. an offer to babysit bubbles in your mouth but stops at him shaking his head with a wry grin. 

“today’s been rough. to be honest, i doubt miguel’s gonna be able to see you right now - we just caught an anomaly who stopped a canon event. he’s dealing with the fallout.” he’s speaking slowly, like he’s placating a child or dog. your frown must be obvious, because he starts chuckling nervously and follows up with a “but i’m sure he can work it out! goodnight!” before he’s swinging away - typical of a man who loves setting fires but never knows quite what to do with the ashes. 

so now you’re stomping into miguel’s office, tearing through the tranquility of silence as you scowl at the raised platform and squint through the frankly shitty lighting. the sound of his fingers on the keyboard halts, and you think you hear him take a deep breath before his voice rings out. 

“‘m busy, cariño. be home late tonight. don’t wait up.” 

and it’s the way he says it, the irritation and annoyance glinting in his monotone words that has you seeing red, until your fingers are clenched in fists and your teeth are bared in the direction of his stupid, stupid platform. (you’d rip it apart with your bare hands if you could. why can’t he just work on the floor like a normal person? fucking medieval villain much? why don’t you just menacingly twiddle your thumbs and mwahaha while coming down then. idiot.) 

you’re barely thinking straight, fury sparking in your veins and thrumming in your blood as you rip off a sandal and chuck it in the vague direction of the stupid thing. it’s not like you can tell, because your migraine and miguel’s shitty decor seem to have teamed up to fucking impair your vision and why in the fuck did he have to blow you off tonight of all nights- 

your heel clunks against the metal, clattering to the ground with a pathetic thud. a sharp intake of his breath through his nose - loud enough to let you know he’s pissed - and therecomes the creaking of the dumb thing being lowered, inch by inch. you wait as the top of his head appears, hair standing in all directions and you just know he’s been doing that thing he does absentmindedly where he runs his hands through it over and over when he’s focused. and normally it’s cute but right now you just want to scream at him or walk away and you’re not quite sure which one to lean towards. and then he comes into view, eyes narrowed and fists clenched, hands stiff by his sides while he…frowns at you? lunging off the platform, he crouches to pick up your shoe before stalking over in your direction, glaring down at you. 

“por qué joder harías eso?” he’s snarling now, jaw tensing with the effort it takes for him to spit the words at you. it makes you flinch, the forceful weight of his words and his tone and the way he’s towering over you like you’re one of those anomalies he hunts and something in your chest just cracks at the sight. straightening your spine, you curl your fingers around his to snatch back your shoe before slipping it on. 

“qué esperabas? what did you expect, miguel? that i come here after a long day to find out again, for the billionth fucking time that my husband is too busy fighting something new-because there is always something new-to so much as look at me when he basically tells me to fuck off.” 

eyes wild, your chest heaves as you meet his fierce look with one of your own. you can see him processing what you said, guilt flashing in his eyes for a split second before it’s replaced by concern. you can see him softening, reaching out - but you don’t want it right now. don’t quite know what to do with the sudden care in his eyes just moments after he was being so dismissive towards you. and if you’re honest - after the day you’ve had, it’s easier to cling to the venom coating your next words than it is to give into however the fuck he’s planning on fixing the situation. 

“vete a la mierda, miguel. don’t come home tonight.” 

and with that, you walk out. 

you make it three steps before lyla pops up, wincing at the tears already spilling down your cheeks. you’re scrambling for your watch, fumbling your way through portalling home to curl up in bed. you can distantly tell she’s cooing something at you, placating and warm, but you’re too far gone to hear it; the AI too much of a reminder of miguel for your comfort. a wave of your hand through her hologram and a stumble through the portal, and she’s gone too. 

well, fuck. that couldn’t have gone worse. 

v excited to continue this one. as always, thanks for reading, comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day<3

taglist: @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis (hey pal), @amanitacowboy, @party-hearses, @planet-marz1, @chiogarza, @jenispunk, @pertinentpostmortem i know most of y’all didn’t sign up for miggy content so let me know if u wanna be tagged only in pedro works. divider by the amazing @cafekitsune.

#miguel atsv smut #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #dom miguel o'hara #miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o' hara x reader #miguel o' hara x reader fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #migeul o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader fluff #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o' hara fluff #miguel o' hara smut #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel 2099 #sm 2099 #miguel o’hara angst #miguel ohara angst #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut

[plussizeficchick]

Agora Hills | Eren x Chubby!Reader

Ahhh! It’s part 2 to The Weekend! I didn’t expect y’all to like the first part as much so I’m hoping this lives up to y’all’s expectations😂

Warnings: Mean!Eren (but really only to Mikasa and Historia) Pick Me!Mikasa and Historia (they will be dealt with) smut(cunnilingus, P in V, mentions of fingering, panty sniffing) not proofread (sorry y’all)

She felt like she was going to be sick.

How could he?

How could you?

She cried in your arms, she poured her heart out to both of you and this is what you do?

No.

It had to be you.

You must have tempted him, this was just some elaborate revenge for her talking to that one guy at Connie’s party a while back. 

Because no way her Eren would be caught dead with you.

— —

Mikasa’s knees were ready to give way.

All throughout the day, you and Eren had been carefully avoiding her but it was time for your daily meetup at lunch with the rest of the group, so she’ll give you an opportunity to explain yourselves and if she’s willing, she’s open to forgiveness.

Oh how she wishes she’d have just skipped lunch.

She was seated next to Historia in the cafe, along with Armin, Jean and Connie awaiting the arrival of you both. She needed Historia for moral support, having told her of your treachery. Historia wasn’t nearly as upset as Mikasa had expected, but she chalked it up to shock because honestly, she was shocked too.

As soon as the doors to the cafeteria open, everyone’s head turns, the sight of Eren holding the door open for you coming into view.

He walks in after you, eyes raking over your figure as if he didn’t help you pick out your outfit for the day.

It was a simple halter top and mini skirt combo paired with some short, heeled sandals, but that wasn’t what brought the smirk to his lips.

No, it was the pretty gold anklet with his initials and the gorgeous emerald necklace that he’d paired with it that brought the smile to his face.

You looked so pretty with his claim on you.

You both saunter up to your friends, hand in hand, before Eren pulls out your seat for you, taking the one beside you for himself before you both engage in conversation with the guys.

“So, does no one see a problem?” Historia asks incredulously. Has she entered the fucking twilight zone?

Armin shrugs, doing a onceover of the table, “I don’t think so. Everyone’s here right?” He asks, getting a brief nod from everyone.

Not that you and Eren were paying attention. You both were too busy giggling amongst yourselves.

“Eren?” Mikasa squeaks out. She couldn’t believe that after all this time, he’d just throw her away. And for you of all people?

Oh no.

She’s worked too hard, put up with too much to just let him go.

He begrudgingly looks away from you, his mood immediately dampening as he addresses her. “Yeah?” He sighs. 

She ignores his disposition, wanting to know just what the fuck you two had going on. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” She grits out through clenched teeth. Eren rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to you, playing with the emerald pendant, “Nah, why? What happened?” 

Mikasa blushes as everyone turns their gazes towards her, the tension palpable. “What happened? What happened, Eren, is you parading her around like she’s your girlfriend when we-” “When we what, exactly? Look Mikasa, you’re a nice girl but (Y/N)’s different. She makes me feel some type of way whenever I’m with her. We just click in a way that you and I never could.” He cuts her off.

Her heart breaks, tears threatening to fall when she casts a glance at her friends, but the way they avert their eyes has her stomach dropping further. “You guys knew?” She barely manages to get out. 

Connie and Jean mumble affirmations, but Armin stutters out a reply, “But not for that long, Mikasa!” He squeaks out, however, Historia’s had enough, “That’s enough! Eren, you’re being cruel. You can’t possibly want her over me-Mikasa!” She exclaims. Eren snarls, his temper spiking. “I’m getting real tired of you guys talking about my girl like that, so I’m only going to say this once,” He grits out. “Being cruel is pretending to be Mikasa’s friend when you’ve been begging me to fuck you behind her back. Being cruel is telling me that Mikasa’s a pathetic bitch and that I can do better than her. And you know what? You’re right! And you’re fucking looking at her, so the both of you can fuck off out of my face.” He practically spits at her. Historia’s jaw drops and Mikasa just wants the earth to swallow her whole. 

She rushes out of the cafeteria, Historia hot on her heels, spewing apologies. Eren turns to you, thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “You okay, baby?” He asks, pressing a brief peck to your lips. “Yeah, just not very hungry anymore.” You sigh. Eren frowns, but you’re sure to reassure him. “It’s not because of them, babe. Just wanna be alone with you right now.” You murmur, running your manicured hand along his arm. 

He smirks, now eager to get you both out of there. “Hey, we’re gonna rain check on the lunch.” Eren announces to your friends. He helps you out of your seat, guiding you out of the cafeteria.

“He’s fucking whipped.” Connie jokes, gaining laughs from the two men.

— —

You both barely made it past the threshold of his dorm before you were on each other, tongues darting into each other’s mouths eager to gain dominance.

Eren presses you against the door, hiking you up to press his clothed cock against your cunt. “You don’t think anybody noticed, right?” He mumbles into your mouth, the taste of you too good to pull away from. “You fingering me under the table?” You ask. He nods, pulling back slightly to move his attention to your neck, the previous love bites fading to make room for new ones. You shrug, moaning as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot, your panties dampening further as a result, “Who cares?”

Eren chuckles at your neediness, moving to press a searing kiss to your lips as he walks you both to his bedroom. He carefully placed you down, pulling back fully to look at you.

He doesn’t think you fully grasp the hold you have on him, but there’s plenty of time to convince you.

He moves to peel away the tight mini skirt and top you have on, your lacy thong being the only thing keeping him from your warm center. You whine for him to get undressed, the sight of his hard abs and tattoos causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He obliges you, removing his hoodie and jeans along with his boxers before he rejoins you on the bed.

He runs a finger over your soaking panties before pulling them down, strings of your arousal sticking to the small piece of cloth.

The next moment is hazy to the both of you, all Eren knows is that he’s not going to be able to go one day without your pussy on his face.

He dives in, his tongue immediately lapping up the juices that escaped from your slick hole before trailing up to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. You whine, clit throbbing under his ministrations. He takes long, languid licks up and down the slit before flicking his tongue over the bud. You gasp as you cum with a shout, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

He’s faring no better, the way your thick thighs clamped over his head, squeezing him further into your cunt has him rutting against the sheets, the tip dripping pre. He pulls away when the need for air becomes necessary, taking in gulps of air while nuzzling into your fupa.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So fucking sexy.” He mumbles into the soft skin. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, the soft locks falling from your fingers. “Want you to fuck me, ‘Ren.” You whine out, aching to feel the length of him stretch you out. He complies, pressing kisses along your body before he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, the taste of you still dancing on his tongue.

He uses the kiss to distract you from the slight sting of his cock stretching your cunt. He hisses at the feel of your warm cunt wrapping around his cock, the slickness of your juices making the glide into you that much easier.

He sits up slightly, fucking into you as he reaches over you to grab something, groaning and cock twitching as he grabs his prize. You barely manage to look up to see your panties pressed against his nose, tongue laving over the damp patch.

You cry out at the sight, your pussy quivering as you pull him into a messy kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth. You both whine into each other's mouths, declarations of love spilling from each other's lips as you both reach your high. You clamp down around Eren, your cunt gushing and clenching as you coat his cock in your essence and he fills you up, warm cum painting your walls white.

You’re panting, the exertion catching up to you both as you snuggle into each other, your fingers tracing over the tattoo with your name on it. You’re tired, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re at it again.

It’s a good thing neither of them could keep him satisfied.

— —

Taglist:@xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @jesus-son-of-god @you-need-namjesus

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[jadedxhearts]

𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢

You wear a new bikini with the intention of teasing Law with it. Only, your plan backfires on you.

Warnings: nsft, afab reader (no pronouns but Law does say “my girl”)

Originally posted on April 21st, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

You’d practically doomed yourself from the very start of your evening out. 

The crew was having a night out at some island, and truthfully you’d completely forgotten the reason why. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, and there weren’t any holidays that you could think of. But, nevertheless you were excited for the excuse to dress up. 

It was very hot and humid on the island you’d be spending your evening at; and even with the sun fading away, the heat just never left the air. You also knew it was a beach town, meaning just about everything was on the front of the island, bars and such all incredibly close to the water, some even built on the water. So, with this knowledge combined you decided on an outfit that would work best. 

The base of it was a bikini. It was vibrant, your favorite color in a bright shade with a hibiscus floral pattern in white, littered across both the top and bottoms. It was also rather flimsy and small. The top was a basic triangle cup bikini shape that was held together by two string ties; one behind your neck and the other in your mid back area. The bottoms were similar, only the strings were more high-waisted and tied in little bows at your hips. The set was skimpy and daring, hardly hiding anything from wandering eyes. But it was an easy fix. You grabbed a pair of denim shorts and pulled them over the bikini, only leaving out the strings as the bows would get in the way. So while your ass was covered now, one could only imagine how the outfit looked underneath…

You slipped on a thin floral print open front shirt to cover up a bit more, then grabbed your favorite pair of sandals and sunglasses to complete the look. You reviewed the look over in your mirror, before deciding everything was set in place and you were ready to go.

When you emerged from the stairs of the submarine, it became evident that you were the last one to be ready. Some of the crew had stayed back to wait on you, but most had already departed for the island. 

Law stood at the front of the group, wearing white shorts and similarly to you, an open front shirt with a pattern on it. He looked at you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow and scanning the outfit you wore. He only let out a light huff and didn’t say a word, though. Once you reached his side, he seemed flustered as he slipped your hand into his and muttered, “took ya long enough…”

You looked up to gaze at his face, playfully smiling. There was a hint of blush dusted across his cheeks. But, you decided not to embarrass him over it. “I wanted to look cute… for you,” you replied to him, leaning up to place a little kiss on his flushed cheek. 

—

In the time that you’d spent pretty much partying in the beach town, you’d abandoned the shirt due to the heat. And now, since you were on the beach, you figured it would be fine to remove your shorts. Everyone else was in their swimwear, after all. It’s not like you’d stand out too much.

So you stood up from your seat in Law’s lap, stretching out your limbs before unbuttoning the shorts and moving your hands to slip them down your frame. 

You’d only gotten them slipped just under your bottom when you were suddenly stopped. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Letting your hands and shorts freeze in the position they were in before you’d been stopped, you turned your head back to look at Law.

“Taking off my shorts so I can get in the water?” 

It was only then you noticed you’d barely stepped a foot away from Law, so you were pretty much directly on display for him. 

“Y/n… don’t you know what your bikini looks like?” 

“Yeah, why?” You asked, trying to play along with him; pretending to be oblivious.

“I can see all of your ass, you’re practically wearing a thong.” He remarked, arms crossed as he frowned.

“Do you like it?” You teasingly asked, smirking down at him. 

“Wh-? Yeah… but, I don’t want some creep looking at my girl’s ass.” He pouted, the same blush from earlier dusting across his face.

You giggled, deciding to let the shorts fall to the sand beneath your feet. “Fine then. You can come with me and cover my ass.”

“I can’t get in ocean water, y/n.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to just return to his lap, only this time facing him. “Fine, fine. Honestly I just wore it to tease you… I didn’t really plan on letting anyone else see it anyway.”

“Then why did you-“

“To tease you,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying further into his lap. 

Law sighed, placing one of his tattooed hands on your lower back. “And did you plan on paying for it, too?”

“Huh?” 

“Don’t think you can just tease me and get away with no punishment,” he muttered into your ear, placing a small kiss on the skin of your neck. 

Feeling more daring, you decided to just dig your own grave now. With a sultry grin, you moved to kiss Law, removing one arm from his neck and placing your hand against his face, holding him as your lips connected.

Law seemed to tense up, probably because of the rather intimate display of affection you two were showing in public, but he moved his free hand to grab your bare thigh, squeezing the soft skin in his grasp. 

He briefly pulled away, but only far away enough to get some air. His breath came out hot as he panted against your wet lips, your mixed saliva still connecting you both together. 

Just before Law could kiss you again, you subtly began to rock your hips, grinding your lower region against him. A breathy grunt escaped Law’s lips, his body tensing up even more as he hardened his grip on your back and thigh. 

“Shit… you’re just asking for it now, hm?” 

You decided then to reconnect your lips, giving hot, wet opened mouth kisses against his own lips. You pushed your hips down harder, whining at the friction of your just barely covered cunt against his hardening length. 

Though your reply was late, you did so anyway, “mhm… please take me back home… punish me for being a whore, Law.”

Not wasting anymore time, Law practically shoved you off of him and slid your shorts back up, tossing your sandals and shirt at you before grabbing the towel you’d been laying on and taking your hand to lead you back to the sub.

—

As soon as you were back in your bedroom with the door locked behind you, Law jumped at you, grabbing your body and biting at the tender skin of your neck, sucking it between his teeth to mark you.

You let out a high-pitched cry, tilting your head back to give him more access. His lips were still wet, and as he dragged them across your skin, your neck became slick with his spit. The sensations felt so intoxicating; the slight pain of his bite before the feeling of his lips sucking you in, the hair of his goatee pleasantly scratching your skin.

“Law,” you quietly whined, legs shaking with need as you tried squeezing your thighs together, desperate to be touched. But his lips didn’t leave your throat.

“Law, please,” you pleaded, fisting his shirt into your palms. “I need you so bad…”

Finally, his attack on your neck ended and you watched with hazy eyes as Law looked down at your needy body with lust evident in his eyes, along with a mischievous look that meant you were really in for it this time.

Just before you could open your mouth to beg for him again, Law pushed you down onto the bed, grabbing at the fabric of the bikini top between your breasts, ripping the entire thing off of you. 

He quickly tossed the garment away, wasting no time to put his tattooed hands on your chest, groping and massaging the plushy mounds. Another whine left your lips as his palms brushed against your nipples, and you leaned your back up into his touch.

“God, you’re so needy,” Law shook his head, removing his hands and watching with amusement as you cried from the loss of his touch. 

Then he was grabbing your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he harshly flipped you over to lay on your tummy, one hand landing on your ass to hold you in place as the other delivered a teasing smack to your skin that poked out from underneath your ridden up shorts, which were removed from your body only a moment later.

Law didn’t even try to be gentle as he forced the denim off of you, throwing it away to free his hands. His palms were on your skin again, squeezing the fat of your bottom as he looked over what was left of your bikini.

The bottoms didn’t cover your ass at all, so when he spanked you again, the contact was directly on your skin this time with a loud slap. 

“You bought this thing knowing it’d piss me off, didn’t you?”

You tried shrugging but that was difficult with your current position. “I knew you’d like it on me… but not in public.”

“Exactly,” he hissed, smacking you again. “You’re such a brat, y/n.”

Letting go of your bottom, Law hastily untied the bows from your hips and pulled the rest of your bikini off. Once that too was tossed away, he freed himself from the restraint of his shorts. You continued to whine, voice louder now as he rubbed his cock against your skin, spitting down at it to get it wet. 

“Law, please!” You begged, “I need to feel you in me… I don’t care what else you do, just stuff me!”

“Don’t care what else?” He echoed your words, lining the tip of his member up with your soaked cunt. “This is a punishment, don’t forget. How about you don’t get to cum until I say so?”

You whined, clearly not liking that idea; but you had no say in whether or not Law would do it. 

You felt one of Law’s hands slip into your hair, grabbing fistfuls of it before pulling on it and finally sliding into your throbbing pussy at the same time. Already it was hard to not cum from that alone, and all you could do was moan and scream in frustration as you tried to hold your orgasm back. 

Law’s pace was ruthless and hard, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch from his cock as he repeatedly slammed himself into you, getting lost in the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him as you tried fitting him in. 

Already, your cunt was flooding with juices and that only created more opportunity for Law to fuck you faster, hitting into you more forceful than before; lewd squelching noises accompanied by the slapping of skin echoing throughout the bedroom. 

You moaned and grasped desperately at the sheets underneath you, letting your entire body rock back and forth from the motion of Law’s hard thrusts. “ah-ahh. Law!

“Law! I can’t hold it in anymore,” you cried and begged, letting his name fall from your lips a few more times. “L-Law! Please, I need to cum, Law! I can’t take it!”

You listened for his approval but all you got were grunts and loud pants from behind you, Law not giving you any mercy as he kept up with the abuse on your cunt. 

“Law! I- I can’t- Law,” you screamed, clenching hard onto his cock in an attempt to stop yourself from cumming.

“I don’t give a damn anymore,” he groaned. “Just cum, baby… cum on my cock.”

With his approval, you finally let yourself go and moaned loudly into the mattress as you came; creaming on Law, leaving a white ring of your cum around his cock. 

And Law wasn’t far behind, he continued to fuck you, slam his cock into your spasming pussy for just another moment before tightening his grip on your hips, thrusts becoming sloppy as he let himself start cumming. 

He let out a flustered moan as his hot seed began spilling into you, but he quickly pulled away and let the rest of his cum spill onto your back, leaving a warm sticky mess on your skin.

You both panted heavily, catching your breath and calming down from the intense punishment you’d just endured. After a moment, you felt his mess being wiped off of you, Law gently cleaning you off before turning you on your back so he could look at your face. 

His soft hand cupped your cheek and a kiss was placed on your lips. “You okay, y/n-ya?”

You nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes. Another kiss against your lips, and you wrapped your arms around Law once again. 

Lifting you up into his hold, Law decided you deserved a relaxing warm bath after what he’d put you through. He carried you to the bathroom, kissing your shoulder and whispering quiet “I love you”s to you the whole way.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law x reader #law x y/n #one piece x reader

[its-the-pilot]

Waves | 2 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Here's some more angsty drama!

Summary: Bradley follows you out of the bar to talk and gets an idea of how much he hurt you. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

Chapter Two

Coronado in the summer bordered on miserable. It was hot and sticky, even after the sun had set, even on the beach with the cool Pacific Ocean only feet away. Bradley tugged at the collar of his white uniform in the oppressive humidity as he scanned the beach, spotting you almost immediately. You were walking in the sand, stopping after a few hundred feet to take your wedge sandals off, struggling to untie the ribbons that held them to your ankles. 

“Dimples, wait up,” Bradley called, stepping off the Hard Deck’s patio and onto the sand before jogging toward you. 

You cursed and finally got your other sandal off, picking them both up and walking further away from him now that you were steady on your feet. “Don’t call me that,” you said, spinning around to point a finger at him, your voice shaky, but firm. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

When he caught up with you, he tried to take your hand but you shrugged him off. “Please,” he begged, continuing to follow you when you walked away again. Seeing you in pain was hard enough, but to know it was because of him made it unbearable. “I just want to talk.”

“How long has it been?” You asked, sandals dangling from one hand as you kept walking. When he didn't respond, you stopped and turned around again. “How long, Bradley? Do you even know?”

Of course he knew. It was the biggest mistake of his life, one he knew he'd never be able to make up to you. “Fourteen years, twenty three days,” he responded, his voice rough. His eighteenth birthday. 

At the time it had seemed like a good idea to him, the thought being that it would hurt you less if you didn't have to say goodbye. So he said goodnight after having an amazing birthday celebration with you, telling you that he would see you the next day, and in the middle of the night he left, taking only what he could carry out of the house in one trip. He'd never forgiven himself for the way he left things, knowing that if given the chance, he would do it all differently today.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you fought hard to keep them from falling. You hated that this was the reaction he was having on you, especially after having pushed the feelings down and away for so many years. The first year, your Senior year, had been the hardest, his departure still fresh. It had been an open wound that damaged your relationship with Maverick, blaming him for Bradley leaving because he had pulled his Academy application. But he was the only family you had left, so when he asked you if you wanted to move to California with him so he could make it up to you, you agreed. Then there was college at UCSD, graduate school, specialized training all over the country… all things you did to keep your mind occupied, to keep yourself from thinking about him. 

When you chose this career path you had known a reunion would be a possibility one day, knowing Bradley's desire to be a pilot. Subconsciously maybe that's why you did it, letting Uncle Ice help you secure a spot at TOP GUN knowing you would be the most useful there. But in the process you suppressed your feelings further, fooling yourself into thinking that even if you did run into him again, if he did come to TOP GUN, that you would be able to tell him that you had moved on. 

Clearly that worked out well. 

“Fourteen years, twenty three days,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around your body, suddenly feeling even more exposed in your sundress than you had with Hangman earlier. “No letters, no calls, no visits… the only reason I didn't think you were dead is because Ice lets me know you're okay.”

Bradley bowed his head slightly, ashamed of himself. So many letters and emails had been written but never sent, so many phone calls made where he hung up after one ring. So many times he drove by the house you lived in with your uncle before you both moved to California, desperate to stop but unable to bring himself to. He couldn't follow through, afraid of not knowing what to say. His fight was with Maverick, not you, but you got caught in the crossfire.

“I couldn't. Maverick--”

Anger rose in your chest again as he brought up your uncle. Yes, he had made mistakes, there was no denying that. You knew their relationship was fractured, possibly irreparably, in those last few months before Bradley left, but it didn't excuse anything, especially how he had treated you.

“You're both to blame!” You cut him off, your words dripping with frustration as you closed the gap between you, a neatly manicured finger poking him in the chest firmly to drive your point home. “You left! You! No one forced you, no one…” a broken sob escaped, derailing your tirade, and before you were able to turn and walk away, Bradley's arms were around you, gently pulling you against his chest. 

You couldn't stop the sobs now, they racked your body as his large, calloused hands ran up and down your spine in an attempt to comfort you. Years of pent up emotion were escaping now that he was in front of you again, and in the back of your mind you admired him for standing there and taking the beating you were giving him. 

 “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his lips against your hair, taking a deep breath of it, letting the memories take over even though he knew he didn't deserve them. “I know it's not enough, but I am so, so sorry.”

His body was solid against yours, even more so than you remembered. It made sense, you knew the kind of physical strength you needed to be a fighter pilot. You buried your face in his coat, his scent invading your senses, the same as you remembered, sandalwood and salt water, but somehow more mature. Nevertheless, it was comforting, and when you felt yourself beginning to relax against him, it took every ounce of strength you had to pull away and put distance between the two of you. 

“I can't do this,” you whispered, barely audible above the waves as you looked anywhere but his dark hazel eyes. The damp spot on his coat from your tears, his hands doing the same nervous twitching he'd done when you were kids, his dress shoes covered in sand. It was too much, overloading your brain and emotions, turning everything up to eleven. 

Turning away, you continued to walk down the beach, hearing his voice behind you as he followed, trying to get you to stop, to talk to him. You ignored all of it until he said your name, finally halting your stride, though you kept your back to him. 

His long strides made quick work of the distance between you, coming to a stop with his body as close as it could be to yours without touching, and he was sure you could feel the heat radiating off of him. It took all of his patience and restraint to not reach out and wrap you in his arms, knowing that was the last thing you wanted right now. Instead he stood there, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. He was just about to speak when Hangman's voice called out from where he stood on the deck of the bar behind you.

"Rooster, last call! Hit it or quit it, everyone's leaving!" He knew the blonde was just looking for gossip at this point, one more thing to prod him about. But he also knew it was getting late, and he had an early start the next morning with his first day of training.

You heard him curse under his breath after Jake called to him, your own eyes closing as you waited to see what he would do next.

Dropping his head just enough to land a soft kiss on your temple, his mustache brushed against your skin as he frowned. More time was needed if he wanted any kind of resolution to this, and he didn't know when he would see you again. "I'm sorry," he repeated for what felt like the millionth time since he joined you on the beach. It would never be enough. "I gotta go."

"Go," you whispered, afraid that if any more words left your lips you would lose what little composure you had left. You didn't move until you felt his warmth disappear, hearing his heavy steps move through the sand as he got further away from you. Once you glanced back and saw him entering the bar with Hangman, you closed your eyes, silent tears streaming down your cheeks.

After a minute or so you wiped your tears and pulled out your phone, sending quick texts to your coworkers and Penny, letting them know that you were okay and heading home. As you started walking, you knew that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

------------------------- 

"Quit it, huh? Disappointing," Hangman commented, leaning against the railing of the patio and watching you walk away with his beer in his hand. The smug look on his face made Bradley want to punch him as he climbed the stairs, not wanting him - or anyone - looking at you, especially not in the state you were in. "She's a complete smokeshow."

"Shut up, Seresin," Bradley sighed, brushing past him. He snuck one last look back over his shoulder as he re-entered the bar, watching you disappear down the beach.

Jake just laughed, following him back inside the bar which was mostly cleared out as everyone finished their last drinks of the night. "After seeing her reaction to you, maybe I should take another shot. At least I didn't get slapped."

Rooster didn't even think before he threw Hangman up against the nearest wall, his forearm pressed against the man's throat. "I said, shut the fuck up," he growled, his eyes dark.

There was a sharp whistle behind his back, but he didn't loosen his hold on the other pilot. "Boys, you better knock it off in my bar," Penny scolded. Hangman raised his hands in surrender, giving a chuckle as Bradley finally released him, pleased with himself for pushing him as far as he had.

"Forgive us, Miss Penny, Rooster here's a li'l sensitive tonight," he apologized with his Texas drawl, bowing his head and retreating when she jerked her head toward the door, signaling that it was time to go.

Once he was gone, the bar was empty except for Bradley and Penny. "Sit," she commanded, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the younger man take a seat on the piano bench facing her. She hadn't seen him since he was a kid, probably fourteen or fifteen, when he last came out with you, Maverick, and his mother Carole for one of Iceman's promotion ceremonies.

She hadn't recognized him earlier in his uniform and with that mustache, but when the scene unfolded, she put the pieces together quickly. You had told her everything years ago, when you were in school and bartending with her part time at this very same bar before she bought it, so she felt she needed to advocate for you. "Does Pete know you're here?" she asked, looking down at him as he fiddled with his cover absently.

"No," he said simply, not looking up at her, though his knuckles went white when Maverick was brought up. "At least, not as far as I know."

Penny sighed, uncrossing her arms and pulling a chair over to sit in front of you. "And you didn't know she was here." It was a statement, rhetorical based on both Bradley's reaction and yours. She reached out and gently took his cover from his hands and set it beside him, wanting his attention fully on her. "She's family to me, Bradley. She's my kid's favorite person. I don't want to get involved here, but if you hurt her again..." she trailed off, the threat gentle but clear.

He raised his head and met her eyes for the first time, glad to hear that you hadn't completely isolated yourself in his absence. "Yes ma'am." He gave a sharp nod, years of military training and being raised by Carole showing through. "I never wanted to hurt her in the first place." 

"But you did. Now you have to fix it." She confirmed what he had already been thinking, standing and sliding the chair back to the table she had pulled it from, content that she had gotten her point across to him. Since her husband had left her a few years earlier, she had gotten a lot closer with you, accepting your help with Amelia when she needed it.

Rooster stood as well, running a hand through his wavy hair and mussing it a bit unintentionally. "How do I do that? I don't even know if I'm gonna see her again."

"You will," Penny assured him, looking over her shoulder as she finished collecting bottles and glasses from around the bar. She knew when he reported for his first day at TOP GUN, your office would be one of the first stops, as all the new pilots had to undergo a psych eval before they could officially start training. "And when you do, take it slow. Don't push her. She's had too many people betray her trust. Don't be one she has to add to the list." The again at the end of the sentence went unsaid. 

He took the warning to heart, picking up a few bottles himself and carrying them to the bar for Penny. "Thanks. It was nice seeing you.”

"You too, kid," she offered a warm smile. Pulling the rest of the bottles he brought her across the bar, she pointed a finger at him in warning. "And if you wanna fight, next time take it outside."

"Yes ma'am," he repeated, returning her easy smile as he headed for the door, making sure it was closed securely behind him as she was alone inside. He let a ragged sigh escape as he looked around the empty parking lot, the weight of the night's events settling on his shoulders. Rooster had come to TOP GUN focused, prepared to graduate first in his class, and seeing you had thrown him for a loop. Heading for his Bronco, he climbed in and headed back to base knowing that he needed to get his head on straight before training started, no matter how difficult that would be.

Chapter Three

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

[bonesandchalamet]

the fourth - j.fisher

masterlist

pairings: Jeremiah fisher x fem!reader

warnings: minor spelling/grammatical errors + fluff

a/n: super excited for the second season 😁😁

the Fourth of July on cousins beach was something else. it was far different from the normal parties at home. there were fireworks for miles at almost every hour of the night. the sky lit up in colors of red, white, blue, and sparkling shimmery gold.

there was nothing more magical than cousins beach lit up under the beautiful dazzling display.

however, you could think of a view much more beautiful to stare at. Jeremiah fisher.

he was one of Susannah’s boys that you began to develop a crush on. you’d seen him lifeguarding the pool from time to time. he’d been on the stand at your very first time at the country club, and while he was rotating around the pool, he crouched down to where you rest against the ledge, “you shouldn’t be in this pool.” he says, a playful smirk forms against his lips, “you’re making my job harder.”

from that point forward, you made it your mission to show up to that damn country club and in whatever skimpy bikini you could find to impress him. it’s what got you invited to the summer bash on the beach with his friends.

“this is Steven, who you’ve met he works at the club, belly, and my brother conrad. guys this is y/n.”

“you come here every summer?” belly asks, she’s the first to whisk you away from the three boys while they searched for the keg or any sightings of drinks.

“no, this is my first time.” you follow her along the sand, allowing the grains to slip into your sandals before situating yourselves towards the water.

“I can see you have an eye for Jeremiah.” belly nudges your shoulder before quickly turning her head in search of the boys. there wasn’t a sight of them for miles, so the coast was clear to chat of them, “he likes you too. he talks about you a lot.”

her emphasis makes you blush. having not known Jeremiah well enough, or even close enough, you’re unsure if he does this often. you’re unsure if it’s compliment that he speaks about you, or if he does this so often it’s annoying for his friends.

you don’t have too much time to question her before Jeremiah is kicking sand in your face and plopping down against the sand beside you. he’s brought two red solo cups, one for you and the other for him.

“thank you.” you smile. you take the cup from his hand, fingers briefly touching, his hand is wet from the condensation of the cup. you’re blushing even harder than when belly was talking about him, and you’re so thankful for the stars and the dark skies to mask it.

“I think shayla is here we should go find her.” belly suggests to conrad and Steven. while the three get up you catch belly’s eyes and she flashes a wink in your direction. you owe her for next time, and you’re sure there will be another.

“so you’ve never seen the fireworks here?” he scoots closer to you, thighs briefly brushing against each other.

you feel the butterflies in your stomach erupt as you look over into his eyes. the stars reflect in them, you can feel your heart beating faster when he looks over at you.

just as you begin to reply, the eruption of the crackles in the sky startles everything in you. you subconsciously jump closer to him, and feel his arm wrap around your shoulders, “I got you, it’s okay.” he chuckles while pulling you almost into his lap.

“I’m sorry I’m not normally scared.” you reply with a chuckle. you’re hesitant to relax against his body. he smells of sun tan lotion and a mixture of cologne, you could get used to that.

he turns his head in your direction. a small smile forms against his lips, “you’re beautiful under these stars.”

you inch closer, eyes glued on his lips. this is the only thing you could ever want. a kiss under the stars, fireworks erupting in the background. you want this.

you wonder what his lips taste like. do they taste like the beer he just drank? or perhaps the cherry popsicle he was previously sucking on that turned his lips bright red. the curiosity was killing you.

“that one’s pretty.” he swivels his head in the direction of the sky, index finger pointed at the golden shimmer against the darkness. you watch them for a moment, how they shimmer and dazzle.

for a moment, you feel the world stop around you. like life beyond you is just background noise and the fireworks are all you can see. you feel like a little kid again, wondering what life was like on cousins at age eight. you wonder how cute Jeremiah was then. you wonder if his family and belly’s did sparklers or cozied up under a fire to witness these very same Fourth of July fireworks.

it’s then when he takes his chance. he gently places his index finger under your chin and turns your face towards him. the curls that brush against his forehead gently tickle your forehead as he leans in. his lips fit like a glove. they taste like a mixture of cherry popsicle and bitter wheat beer he was illegally drinking.

you can feel fireworks in your own stomach erupting. they shoot up and dazzle over and over as he keeps kissing you. his hand is wrapped around the base of your head, fingers tangled in your hair.

“you taste like beer.” you say finally pulling away for air. you feel like you’re floating above water. heart is full of so much joy you’re smiling wider than you ever thought you could.

“is that why you stopped?”

you shake your head brushing a couple of strains of hair that stuck to your face from the wind, “no, I never wanna stop.”

“good,” he pauses for a second, fingers lacing into your hair again, “me neither.”

#jeremiah x reader #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher fluff #jeremiah fisher imagine #Jeremiah fisher fic #Jeremiah fisher drabble #Jeremiah fisher one shot #Jeremiah x y/n #team jeremiah #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty fics #the summer i turned pretty #gavin casalegno #conrad fisher #belly conklin #tsitp x reader #tsitp x you #tsitp fic #tsitp fluff #tsitp #tsitp x y/n

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Weiss: We need to get you something casual to wear. Even I don't just have dresses. I have skirts, and jeans and yoga pants.

Jaune: What's wrong with this shirt? It's cotton. It's comfortable.

Weiss: You don't have any other shoes just those heavy boots.

Jaune: What's wrong with my boots? They're comfortable and I know if I have to I can crush somebody's skull with them.

Weiss: Besides the fact they are on my new coffee table? Get some slippers, sandals, or tennis shoes and I'll let the shirt and pants go.

Jaune: I have jeans...

Weiss: One pair? I've seen your closet. Face it. You've gone all hunter with no relaxation.

Jaune: I sleep shirtless in gym shorts. Are you complaining about that? It's not typically something a loving wife tells their husband. 'Put on more clothes.'

Weiss: You also only have one pair of gym shorts. You're so military it would make a Spartan cringe. It's not like you don't have the money for clothes.

Jaune: I've been busy.

Weiss: But now you're not.

Ruby: Ooh! We should dress him up!

Jaune: What am I? A doll?

Weiss: It's settled then.

Jaune: Settled how? Since when are we putting things to a vote. That's not allowed. Everyone has to be onboard.

Ruby: Get democratized.

Weiss: What happened to your onesie? At least you had that. At least it existed even if I am glad you just sleep in gym shorts.

Ruby: Your chest is nice to sleep on. How is it soft and hard at the same time? But we aren't hoofing it around anima anymore and you're not clawing your way back to Vale. Let us dress you up.

Jaune: Again like a doll?

Ruby: Yeah. But you're our doll. Please? For me?

Jaune: *makes the mistake of looking into her eyes, gets up with a sigh*

Weiss: We don't mean right this minute. Good gods.

Jaune: *sits back down* You know where to find me.

Weiss: You have to teach me how to do that Ruby.

Jaune: You both do that to me. You looked at me, folded your arms, and told me to get a psychiatrist and I did.

Weiss: True. But there’s something special about the way Ruby says ‘please? For me?’ Isn’t there? She does it to me too. She’s like ‘I know you like this color of paint for the bedroom but I like this one. Won’t you agree to it? For me?

Ruby: *has this look of 'who? Me? I'm not familiar*

Jaune: As far as I’m concerned you both cheat hard and ruthlessly. How often do you walk around singing in the kitchen while you’re making coffee? You cheat. You both do. You both do it as much as you can get away with and that’s quite a lot. And what am I supposed to do? I’ve got nothing. I have neither defense or offense.

Weiss: How is doing things you love cheating? I happen to sing while I’m doing chores. That’s for me. If you happen to like it, then that is on you. I am talking about how Ruby actively uses her charms to get us both to do what she wants.

Jaune: And I’m just saying you’re not innocent. As soon as you found out it turns me on when you sing you started singing at me all the time.

Weiss: Okay. I did do that.

Jaune: Bangarang. And everyone in this house knows that Ruby just looks up at you with those big silver eyes and asks nicely and gets her wishes granted. Everyone knows that. Especially Ruby. She knows we can’t help ourselves and she knows that we know that she knows. But there’s nothing to be done. What am I going to do to get what I want?

Weiss: You don’t want anything though. You don’t really care what color the annex office gets painted. You hardly care what you eat for dinner. You could probably eat the same thing every day without complaint.

Jaune: That’s exactly what I used to do at Beacon until you moved in with me. I ate the same thing every single day. And you know what? I liked it.

Weiss: You’re schizophrenic. You have to stop with these mentally unwell behaviors. That’s a part of fighting back against your illness. It’s not enough to just take the meds.

Ruby: Yeah, that’s a sign of mental unwellness… You should eat different things…

Jaune: Exactly how long term am I supposed to be thinking here?

Weiss: *Smacks his chest gently with the back of her hand*

Ruby: *much less flirtatiously and aggressively hits the inside of his thigh*

Jaune: And you both abuse me.

Weiss: Oh shut up.

Ruby: Big baby.

#rwby #rwby incorrect quotes #jaune arc #weiss schnee #whiteknight #white knight #motion sickness #ruby rose #lancaster #war of roses #whiterose #white rose

[black-is-beautiful18]

The Unexpected- The Proposal

K’uk’ulkan x Black!reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my docs for awhile now and I felt inspired so I finally finished it lol. I also used a translator for Yucatec Maya, so if it’s not all correct that’s why. Enjoy! ❤️

—————————————————

“I don’t get it. Why do I have to go?” Y/N demands even though it sounds more like a whine.

Shuri laughs and rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’ve been over this already. I have my own duties that conflict with my usual schedule. So today I need you to meet with him.” The princess explains as she busies herself with one of her latest projects.

“But I’m not a princess or a diplomat. You told me he has a temper. What if he gets upset that it’s me there and not you?”

Y/N leans against the table as Shuri looks up at her giving her an exasperated yet amused look. “You may not be a diplomat but you are sweet and that smile of yours is enough to put even the toughest of warriors at ease. Plus, you have something in common with the king. You’ll be able to relate in some way. Just take it from there.”

Groaning, Y/N puts her head in her hands.

“Fine. I’ll meet this fishman, but I don’t even know what to say to him.”

Shuri smiles. “You’ll do just fine. Use that brain of yours. Draw him in with your knowledge of Wakanda.”

Y/N rolls her eyes.

“As if he’d listen to me go on about our history when I’m sure he just wants to make sure you haven’t gone back on your word.”

Shrugging, Shuri looks down at her project which appears to have something to do with adjustments to her suit.” I’m not, but sending someone in my place is far better than no one showing up. Then we’ll have another problem on our hands.”

“Fine. I’ll go, but you owe me. This is not my thing.” Y/N huffs as she turns to leave.

“Thank you!”

“Yeah yeah!”

————————

Waves lap at the bank of the river as Y/N paces restlessly. She was nervous. So nervous that she’d nearly been late, which is very unlike her. If it weren’t for Aneka it’s safe to say that she’d still be tearing apart her closet right now. Wearing a sleeveless teal sundress, gold bangles, matching necklace, and a pair of sandals the Dora accompanying her assured her that she looked perfect. Her braids were up in a ponytail. The gems she’d carefully placed there this morning glimmering in the sunlight. Now all she had to do was not blow an alliance with a dangerous underwater kingdom ruled by a king who’s people worshiped him as a god…No pressure.

According to Shuri, now that the alliance was in place the king had…calmed down a bit. However, she warned Y/N to be on her guard since she would be a new face.

“Y/N please. If you pace anymore I think I will be sick.” A voice complains.

Offering a sheepish smile Y/N turns to Aneka and Nia who were with her today. Nia was new but good at her job, so that’s why she’d been given the task to come along. It’d be a good experience and Aneka trusted her.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“We’ve noticed.” Nia responds, giving her a soft smile in return.

“Shuri would not have asked you to do this if she thought you couldn’t do it. Take a deep breath and relax before you turn the sand to glass.”

Y/N glares at Aneka who shrugs. As she’s about to respond she sees movement out the corner of her eye. She’d pass it off as just a trick of the light or the fact that they are near water if it weren’t for the three presences she felt beneath the surface. They were steadily moving closer to the shore. Where did they come from? Usually she can sense things miles out or even leagues below the surface. How had she not noticed?

“We’ve got company.” Y/N mutters turning to the water.

She puts her shoulders back and quickly rehearses a greeting in her head only for her brain to short circuit as a man, flanked by two Talokanil, steps out of the water. Now don’t get Y/N wrong. She’d seen glimpses of the strange man when he and his people flooded Wakanda. Shuri had even told her of her time in the city of Talokan and described him in hopes that Y/N would be familiar with such descriptions. She was not. If she’d seen a man this handsome before…well she’d definitely remember him.

Water drips down his body and Y/N mentally yells at herself to stay focused. His friends really aren’t helping though. With their blue skin they’re both just as beautiful. However, their king is stunning. His winged feet only seemed to add to the strange allure he has about him. The way his jewelry shines in the sun and against his brown skin…Even with that intimidating spear in his hand Y/N is in awe.

Feeling a gentle nudge in her back Y/N nearly has a heart attack, but quickly covers it up with a smile as she steps forward.

“Hello. I am Y/N,” She dips in a graceful bow. “The princess sends her regards for she wasn’t able to make it today.”

The Talokanil behind the king exchange glances that don’t go unnoticed by Y/N. She feels butterflies dancing around in her stomach but works through them.

“I assure you everything is as it should be. Shuri simply had other duties to attend to.”

The king raises an eyebrow. “More important than our alliance?”

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice. While his tone is inquisitive it also has a hint of playfulness to it. Well that’s good, right?

Y/N chuckles.

“To bear the role of the Black Panther means to always expect the unexpected. You never know when you will be called away. Surely you can understand that K’uk’ulkan.”

At the mention of his name, the king of Talokan seems to swell with what can only be described as pride. His eyes rake over Y/N taking her in before giving a charming smile that nearly makes her swoon.

“Well if that’s the case will you walk with me?”

Not expecting that response, Y/N’s jaw drops.” Um…”

She looks back at Aneka and Nia who give each other curious looks before Aneka nods encouraging her to accept. Turning back to him she notices that his companions seem to also be trying to figure just exactly what their king has in mind. However, seeing him embed his spear in the sand seals her resolve.

“I will.”

—————————

“So you are a friend of the princess?”

I chuckle glancing over at him.

“We’ve known each other since we were children. Though while I was learning the history of our great country and it’s spiritual aspects she took interest in the sciences and technology. Now look at her. The overseer of all our technology and an even more brilliant inventor.”

I pause and turn to him.

“Though I’m sure you know that already.”

He stops as well, a charming smile forming on his lips.” The princess has a brilliant mind, but I’m more interested in you.”

“Me? What could I possibly offer you?” With a furrowed brow and hands on my hips, I find myself to actually be interested in what he might say. The king obviously doesn’t know me, but he certainly acts as if he knows something.

The king glances back to where his own guards and the Dora stand further down the river. They’re a good distance away but still close enough should anything happen. Bast forbid that. Both groups stand rather awkwardly but they are determined to do their duty. He steps closer and a panic builds in my chest. With him this close to me I can smell the ocean. It’s always been one of my favorite smells but this makes me want to embrace him just so that I can take in more of it.

I notice the amusement in his eyes mixed with something else that I can’t quite place, and take a step back. He only follows me and I feel as if I’ve entered a game of cat and mouse. He is obviously the cat and I, unfortunately, am the mouse.

“K’uk’ulkan?”

I don’t mean to sound so uncertain or small but how can I possibly function with him so close?

His eyes roam over me for a moment before meeting my eyes once more. Leaning down, he takes on such an intimidating aura that I have to fight not to look away from him.

“I saw you that day.” His voice is low even though we aren’t that close to our companions. What he has to say is for my ears only.

“You move faster in water than any surface dweller I have seen. Stronger too.”

My eyes widen and he tilts his head to the side with a knowing smirk. At that point I do look away, setting my gaze on the water.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was ushered away just like most of my people.”

A click of his tongue and a low growl sends a chill down my spine.

“Mentiroso.”

My eyes shoot back to his and I stare at him defiantly. I don’t need my kimoyo beads to tell me that this man, this god, just called me a liar….and he’s right.

”I am not. You were seeing things.”

Even as I say it I see images in my mind of me diving into the river to rescue those who had been swept up by the waves or pulled into the water by Talokanil soldiers. K’uk’ulkan says nothing and I purse my lips keeping my facial expressions neutral. He begins to circle me slowly. Assessing me.

“…What do you want?”

“Nothing. I just find it…interesting. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone like you. Does your princess know?” He’s stopped behind me now but I refuse to face him.

“We grew up together and some things are hard to hide when you are so close.” What is he getting at?

K’uk’ulkan hums softly and walks back around me so that we are facing each other once more. His eyes are full of mirth and even mischief. Nervously I begin to fidget, twisting one of the rings on my right hand.

“I have a request.”

My eyes narrow. “I’m listening….”

Reaching down he gently takes my hand into his and lifts it to his lips. His hands have the roughness of a warriors but his lips are soft. Bast.

“Allow me to court you.”

It’s not a question.

“E-excuse me?” I mean to sound demanding. Make it sound as if he’s insane, but it all comes out in a surprised squeak.

My hand is still against his lips as he chuckles. It tickles a little.

“It is rather…traditional, but it would put many minds at ease if this alliance had more to hold it together. The elders have also been pestering me about giving my people their own queen mother and producing an heir.” He says it so casually that I’m left speechless.

I snatch my hand away from him and take a step back.

“I don’t even know you, and you are the reason Queen Mother is dead.” I hiss. The very mention of Ramonda sends a sharp pain through my chest. She treated me as if I were one of her own children. Losing her was devastating.

Stepping closer he takes my hand once more, holding it firmly so that I can’t pull away this time. “You and I both know that there are doubts on both sides. Would not such a moment ease their fears and allow us to move forward? To build trust?”

This man is crazy!

Preparing to pull away I freeze. He has a point. There are more Dora and soldiers patrolling the rivers. There have been whispers of evacuation plans in case another attack happens. I’ve sat in on the meetings of King M’Baku and the council. The elders are fearful that the Talokanil will go back on their promise of peace as soon as the first disagreement occurs. That this king who is worshiped as a god will want more….My heart speeds up as I go through the options. There aren’t many but I understand. I relax and look him in the eye.

“Give me time to think about this. Shuri…Shuri won’t be happy, and the elders will demand to know exactly why it is that you’ve chosen me. If I agree, you are asking me to expose myself. To also give myself to someone I don’t know.”

“I know this. That is why I will give you a week to consider and get things settled. Take this and call for me when the time comes. I will answer.” He pulls a conch shell from his waist and offers it to me. Gingerly, I take it looking at it curiously. When did he get this? Had I been so distracted that I didn’t notice it?

“I will call. I promise.”

A tender kiss is placed on my wrist this time and I almost swoon.

“I know you will…In Eek'e'.”

My star…

Before I can even react he kisses my hand and pulls away. He calls something to his guards but I’m too dazed to listen to the translation.

“Shall we?” The king of Talokan holds out his arm allowing me to take it. We walk back down along the bank of the river, the shell tucked safely in my free arm. I feel my face heating up as Aneka and Nia give me questioning looks as we approach. I am saved only when K’uk’ulkan turns to me, capturing my attention. “We will leave you here. Don’t forget what we have discussed.” Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I nod.” Of course. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

I’m met with a scoff but I see the amusement in the god-king’s eyes. He nods and promptly turns around stepping back into the river with the two Talokanil soldiers following close behind. I watch their heads soon disappear beneath the water and I sigh wishing for at least another kiss on my hand or wrist.

“What was that about?” Nia’s light voice fills the air startling me out of my thoughts. That’s when everything comes crashing down and realization hits. With a groan I facepalm getting strange looks from the two women accompanying me once again. I offer them only one answer.

“I am in so much trouble.”

————————————————

@stars8melanin @prettyvintageafternoon

#black!reader #kukulkan x reader #namor x reader #wakanda forever fanfic #namor the sub mariner #plus size reader #black plus size reader #the unexpected #unique writes

[vodika-vibes]

Hi, Vod'ika. I recently read your works and I loved them all, especially Hunter's. Can you write something with him with the trope "there's only one bed"? If I may give you a kick-start, maybe he and reader (F! Reader, please.) They are left without a pick up because the Marauder is not in a condition to face the storm on the planet they are on. So they need a place to spend the night. Xx

Sharing is Caring

Summary: When a terrible storm separates you and Hunter from the rest of the Batch, you have no choice but to try and make the best of it. Unfortunately, the only inn with a vacancy only has one room available. Luckily, you don’t mind sharing with your Sergeant.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 2660

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @clonethirstingisreal

A/N: Hihi! I'm glad that you liked my stories! Especially my Hunter stories, since I'm still not 100% about my characterization of him! But I made a new divider specifically for this story! ☺️

You’re drenched.

Soaked to the bone.

Your hair is plastered to your head, and the civvies that you’re wearing are clinging, uncomfortably, to your body, and you know that you’re shivering because Hunter keeps shooting you concerned looks, even as he tries to raise the Marauder on his comm.

How, exactly, he’s not shivering when he’s just as drenched as you are, is a mystery for the ages.

Maybe the Kaminoans made it so the clones just don’t get cold. The lucky assholes.

You wrap your arms around yourself as a particularly violent shiver zips through you. “H-Hunter-” Your teeth are chattering too. He raises a single finger as he lifts his comm to his ear, apparently finally managing to get ahold of Tech.

Honestly, you’re surprised it’s this cold.

This is a tropical planet according to the very detailed lecture that Tech bored you to tears with before the ship landed. The planet never, ever gets cold enough for people to need things like heaters…or long pants.

So, since this was supposed to be an undercover mission, you dressed according to what Tech told you, a cute sundress and sandals. Hell, even Hunter is dressed in short sleeves, though he, at least, has long pants and boots to protect his feet from the frigid rain.

You’re not so lucky.

You step up a little higher, trying to keep your feet out of the frigid puddles of water, and then anxiously cast your gaze over to Hunter. He has a severe look on his face, and your heart sinks.

You know that look.

That’s Hunters, ‘the marauder can’t come and get us for some reason, so we’re on our own’ look.

You see it a lot.

“It’s fine, Tech. We’ll make it work.” You tune into Hunter’s conversation now that he’s talking and not just listening, “Just get the ship somewhere safe.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he disconnects the call, and slides the comm into his pocket, before he turns his gaze towards you. His dark eyes scan you, and he looks deeply concerned.

“We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” You ask.

“Just for a couple of days,” Hunter replies, “Tech says that the storm is going to get a lot worse really quickly.”

“Figures.” You say with a sigh.

Hunter scans you one more time, “We need to get you out of the cold. You look like you’re freezing.”

“I am freezing,” You counter, “Do you have a personal heater in your body or something?” 

Hunter laughs softly, “Not quite.” He steps into the massive puddle so that he’s closer to you, “Hands on my shoulders, mesh’la.”

You immediately do as he asks, and Hunter gently grips your hips before he swiftly lifts you over the puddle and sets you on the other side, “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hunter glances around, “Tech said that there’s an inn nearby that has a vacancy. He already commed them and made a reservation for us.”

“Tech’s the best,” You say empathically.

Hunter grins at you, “He has his moments. Come on, let’s get out of this rain.” He doesn’t move until you fall into step next to him, and he presses his hand against the small of your back to guide you.

You don’t mind. He’s warm and you’re freezing, and, to be completely honest, you don’t have any qualms about having such a handsome man pressed close to your side.

Two years ago, when the war first began, the organization that you are a part of reached out to the Jedi and offered the services of their doctors and battlefield medics.

And while the Jedi, and the Clones, weren’t sure about it, at first, it quickly became apparent that they needed the help. After all, Clone medics were very good, but they didn’t have the kind of specialized training that people from Doctors Without Borders had. 

Or the equipment, for that matter.

Two years ago, you were a recent graduate from medical school, and had just finished a 6 month tour on a planet ravaged by a plague. And you went right from there, to Kamino.

Admittedly, there was something of a rough start at first. The Kaminoans resented the fact that there was an outside doctor treating them pet projects, and you resented the fact that the Kaminoans called these men their Pet Project.

But you never had a problem with the men in CF99 themselves. Well, not outside of you putting your foot down and telling them that they will keep their room clean and clean smelling or you would do it for them.

And really, you haven’t had a single issue since then.

Well, okay. That’s not true.

There is one, rather massive, issue. And that issue is your massive crush on Hunter.

Something that he doesn’t help with by being so protective and so kind and so…perfect.

The asshole.

“Here it is,” Hunter’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he comes to a stop in front of a small inn. It looks very lived in, which, in your experience, means that it probably started out as a bed and breakfast. He glances at you, and gently nudges you towards the door, “Come on.”

Hunter opens the door for you, and you, gratefully, step into the warmth of the building. You step to the side to let Hunter in, and then try to shake some of the dripping water off your fingers.

“Ah, got caught in the storm, did you?” An older woman says from behind the desk, she has a kind smile on her face, “You must be Hunter. Your brother called to make a reservation.”

Hunter shook some of the water off of his hands as well, before he walked over to the desk, “Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

“Splendid,” The older woman bustles around for a moment, before she slides a pair of key cards across the counter, “Here you go, two keys for the room. There’s a kitchenette in the room, as well as extra blankets and towels.”

“Thank you,” You say from where you moved to stand next to Hunter and accept the key that he gave you.

The woman smiles at you, “Now, the pair of you are staying in another building. You have to go out the front door, across the street and up the hill. Your room is in building 13, on the third floor.” She beams at you, “Now, you two better hurry before the hail starts.”

Hunter’s head snaps up, “Hail?”

“Oh, yes. There’s always hail.” 

Hunter’s gaze darts to you again, the look of concern returning, and you smile at him reassuringly, “Come on, Hunter. We’d better hurry then.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” He nods at the older woman and then motions for you to lead the way back to the door.

It takes less than ten minutes to get from the hotel lobby to the hotel room, and Hunter unlocks and opens the door just in time, as it starts to hail as soon as you’re both safely in the room.

“Lucky timing,” You say as you peer out the front door at the hail bouncing on the ground. 

Behind you, Hunter releases a heavy sigh. “I’m going to strangle Tech,” you hear him mumble.

“Eh? Why? What’s wrong?” You shut the door and peek around Hunter to peer into the room properly.

At first, you don’t see the problem. The room looks clean and it doesn’t have any strong scents that might overwhelm Hunter. And then you see what the problem is.

Really, it’s kind of obvious, now that you’re looking at it.

There’s only one bed.

A decent sized bed, much bigger than the bunks you have to use on the Marauder, but still, there’s only one.

“Oh.” You pause thoughtfully, “Well, easy solution. I can sleep on the floor and-”

“Absolutely not.” Hunter interrupts. “I am not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

You sigh, “Hunter, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places.” He points out, “You’re the doctor, you deserve the bed.”

“That’s ridiculous. You need-” You’re cut off when a violent shiver wracks your body, and all of the fight drains out of Hunter.

“You need to take a shower to warm up.” He says, “What clothes do you have with you?”

“Just some pajamas and a single change of clothes,” You admit, “We weren’t supposed to be here long. They should still be dry though.”

“Good. Go ahead and shower, and we can work out sleeping arrangements later.”

You make a face at him, but know that he’s right. So you slide off your soaked sandals, and then cross the room to slide into the fresher. You’re very relieved to see that there’s bodywash, shampoo, and conditioner already in the fresher.

Not to mention, the room is warm. 

You allow the fresher door to slide shut, and turn on the water. 

Hunter glances at the fresher door as the water turns on, and he slowly releases a heavy breath. He really is going to strangle Tech.

As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, now he had to try and come up with a reasonable explanation for why he can’t share a bed with his pretty baar’ur.

Obviously the truth won’t work.

I’m completely in love with you and I don’t trust myself to share a bed with you. 

Yeah. The only thing that will accomplish is scaring her away, and then his brothers will kill him. Including Echo, especially Echo. She’s helping him with his physical therapy after all.

He pulls his bandana off, and pushes his hand through his soaked hair as he tries to think.

Hunter’s gaze is drawn to the Fresher when he hears soft singing, and a small smile lifts his lips. She only sings when she’s happy, and sometimes it feels like her singing is for his ears only, since she never sings where his brothers can hear her.

He sinks into a chair and closes his eyes, allowing her soft voice to soothe him. 

He really did love her more than anything.

Hunter opens his eyes as the water turns off, and he casts his gaze towards the ceiling. He still hasn’t come up with a reason that they shouldn’t share.

The problem being, of course, the fact that he wants to share the bed with her. He wants to be able to bury his face in her hair and wrap his arms tightly around her, and hold her close. He also wants to press a million little kisses across her skin, to learn if she’s as soft as she looks–

The door slides open, and Hunter’s gaze drifts from the ceiling to the love of his life.

She’s clad in a tank top and some shorts, and Hunter has the feeling that she made them herself, because the shorts have the skull of CF99 etched on the hem.

“I feel so much better now,” She says, as she drapes the towel over her head, and then she grins at him, “You can use the shower now, if you want.”

“Yeah, I will.” His gaze lingers on her shorts, “Those are new.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” She lightly taps the embroidered skull, “You like them? I was bored while you guys were on a mission, and I made this.”

“Why haven’t you worn them before now?” Hunter asks.

“And let Crosshair harass me about my spindly chicken legs?” She demands, “No thank you.”

Hunter laughs, “He only teases you because he likes you.”

“I know, I know.” She crosses the room and drops on the edge of the bed, “Still, he could be nicer about it. What if I was sensitive about my legs?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

Hunter grins, “Then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

She makes a face, though she looks amused, so Hunter isn’t overly worried, “I had an idea,”

“Oh?”

“I think we should share the bed.” She says.

Kriff.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hunter replies slowly.

Something very similar to anxiety crosses her face, a look he hasn’t seen since the early days of her partnership with his squad, “I don’t take up that much space-”

“I don’t want to share a bed.”

The anxiety on her face slides into genuine hurt, and she averts her gaze, “Oh.”

Double kriff.

“Not for the reason you’re probably thinking, mesh’la,” Hunter offers, his voice gentle.

She rubs her arm, and doesn’t look at him, “If you really don’t want to share, then I have to insist that you take the bed. If something happens-”

“I don’t want to share with you because I don’t want to scare you away.”

“...what?” She lifts her head to look at him, the hurt turning into absolutely bafflement.

Hunter sighs, “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?”

Her confusion only increases.

“You’re so good, and kind. And…stars, I love you so much.” He folds his arms over his chest, to keep himself from doing something foolish, like standing up and touching her. “Too much, maybe. My brothers would never forgive me if I scared you away.”

She stares at him, “Hunter,” She pauses for a moment, to collect her thoughts, “For someone who is so observant, you sure are blind sometimes.”

“What?”

She looks exasperated, “Even Tech noticed my crush on you. Tech. Do you have any idea how awful that conversation was?”

Hunter’s jaw drops, “Wait! Is that why Tech has been asking me about what I would want in a romantic partner?”

“Oh Force,” She presses her hand over her eyes, her face burning with embarrassment, “Has he?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. I swore him to secrecy…figures that he would try and find a loophole.” And then she drops her hand, “But, since you know that I feel the same way, maybe you won’t mind sharing a bed with me now?” She sounds hopeful and so vulnerable at the same time.

And really, how could Hunter do anything other than agree?

With the conversation over, and needing time to think about what she said, Hunter retreats to the fresher to get warm.

And when he finishes in the shower and leaves the fresher, he sees her laying on her side under the blanket, her gaze locked on the holo across the room. “It looks like the storm is going to last several days,” She says without turning her gaze away from the holo, and Hunter’s glad for it.

The last thing he wants is for her to see how anxious he is about sharing a bed with her.

Slowly, carefully, he slides under the blanket, “What kind of weather can we expect?” Hunter asks, pleased that he managed to keep his voice so even, as he leans against his pillows and flickers his gaze from her, over to the holo, and then back.

“Wind, rain, hail,” She shakes her head, “I hope Tech managed to get the ship to safety. The wind gusts they’re predicting are insane.”

“I’m sure he did. You know Tech,” 

She glances at Hunter, and shifts just enough to rest her head on his shoulder, “Is this okay?”

He exhales slowly, and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “It’s more than okay.”

“That’s good.” She replies, and then she’s quiet for a moment, “Hey, Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He releases a surprised breath, and then a soft laugh slips from him, “Cyare, you don’t have to ask.”

“You just weren't sure about this, so-” She’s cut off when Hunter leans in and presses his lips against hers in a very chaste kiss, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face.

“Cyare,” Hunter murmurs, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She smiles at him brightly, and he decides right then and there that he would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

#star wars #tbb #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[so-fuck-what-im-dreaming]

Date Night | Damiano David

Pairing : Damiano David x Reader

Prompt : A post I saw a while ago where someone was talking about a speakeasy they had been to that also doubled as a tattoo parlour and I couldn't stop thinking about it...

Warnings: Poor Italian translations, bad tattooing process and aftercare, not proof-read

Word Count: 2527

“Are you ready to go Amore?” He asks, walking back into your shared bedroom and standing behind you as you looked in the mirror, slipping your earrings in. “Though I don’t really know why I’m asking, considering I have absolutely no Idea where you’re taking me,” He says with a soft laugh as he places his hands on your hips, pulling you into him.

“I promise you’ll love it,” You assure him as you lean back, resting your head on his chest.

“I’m sure I will,” He says as he starts to kiss your neck. The warm Rome air was flowing through the apartment, all the windows and doors open creating a nice breeze. This was your happy place, here with him. “Mmh…let's get going,” He teases, pulling away from you.

“You just don’t like surprises do you?” You ask him as you put your sandals on, buckling them at your ankle.

“You know I don’t” He says with a grin as He spritzes himself with his cologne. 

You left the apartment hand-in-hand as you walked towards the metro station, it was only a few stops away so you were quickly off again. You double checked the distance when you got out and it was only a five minute walk. You passed the Circo Massimo and you reminisced about when Damiano played there a few years ago. You had only been dating around a year when He begged you to come, guaranteeing you it would be the best night of your life and He had definitely not been lying. 

You had heard the band practising before, even having sat in on some recording sessions…but there was something different about seeing them perform, seeing Him perform. Damiano was almost a different person. He was raw, unapologetic and very fucking hot. Not that He wasn’t anyway but somehow it had been taken to a whole new level.

“It should be just here…” You say looking down at the map on your phone.

“Are you sure Amore? I think your map might be wrong…” He says looking around. You spot what you’re looking for. A dark wooden door with a golden ‘T’ and matching knocker.

“Follow me,” You say with a wide smile on your face as you pull Damiano with you. You knock on the door three times followed by saying the word ‘Sfizio’. A moment passes before you hear it unlocking and the door swinging open. 

“Benvenuti Signore e Signora,” The Doorman says, nodding in your direction as you walk past him. 

“Welcome to temptazione,” You say quietly to Damiano as you both take a moment to soak in the atmosphere. There’s a light haze of cigarette smoke and the smell of expensive cologne filling the air as you’re silently led to a booth in the corner.. 

“Wow…where did you find this place?” He asks, both of you sliding into the dark green leather lined booth.

��Friend of a friend is one of the owners…it opened up a few weeks ago and as soon as I heard about it I knew I had to bring you,” You say, not wanting to give up the biggest secret yet.

The lady who had sat you left a menu card and a small piece of paper. ‘you’ll be seen at 11’ 

“What's that?” He asks as you look at the paper.

“The second surprise of the night…but it looks like you’ll have to wait,” You tease him

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” He asks and you just shake your head. You had just over an hour to kill until it was your turn so Damiano offers to grab the first round of drinks. By half past you were two drinks in, Damiano’s arm wrapped around your shoulders as you alternated between slowly kissing and quietly talking. The next half an hour seemed to go pretty quickly and soon enough you were being escorted down a dark hallway, your boyfriends fingers laced into yours as you followed,

“Leo will be your artist tonight, godere,” She says before leaving you. You turn to Damiano and you can see all the pieces starting to click into place.

“Is this what I think it is?” He asks and you nod, a smile spreading across your face. You had gotten a few tattoos in the past, nowhere near as many as He had and you had been saying for years that you wanted to get them done together some day. “-and you want to?” He asks and you nod again. When he sees your reaction you're pulled into his chest, lips colliding with his. “You’re perfect” He whispers before you're interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

“11 O’Clock?” A guy asks as he comes into the room.

“Yes,” You answer and He pulls back a curtain revealing a large leather chair and a tattoo station.

“Do you know what you want?” He asks and you look over at Damiano. 

“I was wondering if we chose for each other,” You suggest, and Damiano’s wide smile was a good enough answer.

“Do you want to leave it as a surprise?” Leo asks, opening a drawer and pulling out a black silk blindfold. You were definitely not a stranger to a silk blindfold. “ I can wrap it up for you so you can wait until you get home to see it? Quite a few of our couples do,” He offers and you both like the sound of that.

You were always slightly nervous before a new tattoo and Damiano knew that. “Let me go first, Amore,” He says, kissing your forehead. “Where do you want it?” He asks.

“Where have you got space is probably a better question,” You reply with a smile and He starts to unbutton his shirt. He shrugs it off and hangs it up on the hook behind the door. As he looks at himself in the mirror trying to see where you could put it you can’t help but admire him. A soft smile rested upon your lips as you let your eyes roam over his body.

“Up here Amore,” He says, directing your gaze back up his chest. “Either the top of my ribcage or just above my waistband?” He suggests, pointing out the two areas.

“I think here should be perfect,” You say, brushing your hand over the top of his ribcage. Damiano heads over to the chair and lays down. 

“Do you know what you’d like Signora?” Leo asks.

“I do, can I have a pen and paper…wouldn’t want to give anything away,” You say smiling up at your boyfriend. He quickly hands them to you and you draw out your design. “If you can do it as close to that as you can, that would be amazing,” You say and he nods. Leo hands you the silk blindfold before leaving the room to make a template of your design.

You moved towards Damiano, walking around the chair so you were looking down at him. He sits his head up slightly so you could tie the blindfold around his eyes.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” You say quietly, moving to sit on the edge of the seat. You slowly run your hand over his chest, paying special attention where his new tattoo will be. You lean down to press your lips to the base of his neck, slowly kissing your way up towards his jawline.

“Per favore…Amore,” He says but you’re interrupted again. Leo pays no mind to the position he found you in as he showed you the template.

“It's perfect,” You say with a smile, getting up and moving to sit in the chair on the other side. Damiano turns onto his side so Leo can reach his ribcage. The tattoo takes about five minutes, maybe not even that. He moisturises the area and covers it up so it’s hidden from prying eyes.

“That means it’s your turn, Amore,” Damiano says, pulling the blindfold from his face and smiling at you.

“I guess it is…how do you want me Signore David?” You ask with a grin as He stands up and walks you over towards the mirror. 

“May I?” He asks and you nod, before taking the back zip of your dress in between his fingers and pulling it down slightly. The dress hung around your waist, revealing the laced bra you wore underneath it. He moved his hand onto your stomach, dragging one of his fingers along the area where your skin disappeared under the lace. “What about here?” He asks.

“I like it,” You say with a smile and He seems pleased with his decision. You look down and see Damiano pulling the black silk out of his pocket. 

“Your turn,” He says as he ties it around your eyes. You feel his fingers lace into yours as he leads you over towards the chair, you carefully sit down, making sure your dress doesn't fall any further.

“Signore? Your design?” Leo asks Dami, who asks to speak to him away from me. Leo leaves the room and I can feel Damiano coming back over to me.

“Leo’s just gone to make the template…he’ll be back in a moment,” He says quietly, only a few inches from my ear. “I think it’s going to look beautiful Amore,” He says, tracing the area again with his finger…then something else…you can feel his breath on your stomach so it must be his tongue. 

“Dami…” You moan softly but he stops…drying the area so nobody would know. 

“Later, I promise,” He says, gently squeezing your thigh as He sits up…Leo having come back into the room.

“Signora…do you mind taking off your bra…I think the fabric might get in the way,” He asks and you sit up, a guy's hands, who you know for a fact are Damiano’s wrap around you, unhooking the bra and moving it away. Your nipples peak at the sudden cold air, then an alcohol wipe to disinfect the area is gently brushed over the area before the design is transferred onto your skin.

“Just stay nice and still for us Amore,” Damiano says, relieving you of any worry or concern you had. 

“Signore…would you like to do it?” Leo asks and there's a moment of silence.

“That's not up to me…Amore?” He asks and you quickly agree.

“Yes, of course,” You say, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the thought of Damiano tattooing something that would be on your body forever. You could still hear the music from the bar as they concentrated, the only other sound being that of the tattoo gun. You didn’t find it particularly painful and before you knew it, it was done. Damiano followed the same routine that Leo did with the aftercare before wrapping it up.

“You did so good,” Damiano says as He kisses your forehead. The silk blindfold is untied, left to drop into your lap.

“I’ll leave you two to get dressed…the charge has been added to your bill. It was a pleasure working with you Signore e Signora,” Leo says with a smile before quickly leaving the room. You loosen your bra slightly so it doesn’t affect the dressing before you pull your dress back up, over your shoulders. Damiano had already buttoned up his shirt by the time his hands reached for the zipper again, gently tugging it up.

“That was amazing Amore, thank you so much,” He says, kissing your shoulder blade.

“Thank you for tattooing me,” You say with a slight laugh. Damiano would later tell you that Leo had been following him on social media so had seen that He had tattooed before, so the whole ‘would you like to’ was a farce.

It was nearing midnight by the time you got back to the bar, both of you deciding to finish your drinks before heading home. Damiano’s jacket was draped over your shoulders as the cool air settled in on your journey home. The metro was quiet and the streets near your apartment were even quieter.

You had decided that you would both wait a week till revealing your new tattoos, wanting to give them time to heal before seeing them for the first time.

..................

The next week flew by, Damiano back in the studio, You were back in the office. It was a pretty unremarkable week that was all counting down towards the day you would finally see your tattoo. Damiano had ordered your favourite food for delivery, you had eaten whilst watching a movie you both wanted to see, a very nice bottle of red wine had been cracked open but both of you knew what the other was waiting for.

“I think it’s time,” You say to him as the film finishes.

“I think so too,” He says, getting up from the couch and taking you by the hand. He led you into your bedroom and towards the mirror. He pulled your shirt off of you whilst you unbuttoned his. Dropping both onto the floor in a crumpled heap. You watched as He moved to his bedside table, pulling out a very familiar black silk blindfold. “I’m going to clean it up before you see it, ok?” He asks, tying the silk around your head for the second time. He takes your bra off and can feel him peeling away the adhesive dressing. He headed into the bathroom and grabbed a damp towel, gently brushing it over the tattoo making sure it was clean and healing properly.

He positioned you in front of the mirror.

“Ready,” He asks and you nod, he removes the blindfold and you look down at your left breast. The dark black inked words cupping it. ‘Il Ballo Della Vita’ Curved around, identical to his, but this time in his handwriting, done by his hand.

“I…I love it,” You say, slightly lost for words. “It’s perfect Dami,” You say, unable to take your eyes off of it. You finally managed to tear your eyes away from it to turn around, pulling him down into a long and drawn out kiss. “Thank you,” You whisper with a wide smile on your face.

The silk is wrapped around his eyes now, damp towel gently wiping at the tattoo before letting him see. You were very impressed at how much it looked like your handwriting…Leo had done a very good job. You untied the blindfold, throwing it behind you and onto the bed as Damiano’s eyes travelled down his own body, locking onto the written words. ‘Sarò ciò che respiri’ Your favourite line from the song He wrote about you.

“You are what I breathe…” You say quietly, now it was his turn to be unable to tear his eyes away. It was very rare that Damiano was speechless…his whole job was putting his emotions into words…but this had stumped him.

“I…” He tries to say but to no luck. You smile to yourself…you definitely won. “It's perfect…you’re perfect…fuck, I love you so much Amore,” He says pulling you into his arms. “How about we put that blindfold to another use?” He asks quietly against the shell of your ear.

finite

#maneskin #damiano #damiano david #damiano david x reader #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi #vic de angelis #ethan torchio

[cal-flakes]

reader organising a wholesome date for her and dealer rafe (and hiding his phone) because she wants him to have one evening where he’s not stressing about shipments or supply - so she wears his favourite dress and takes him to watch the stars and sunset

╰┈➤ dancing under the stars

warnings: light swearing, mostly fluff.

summary: y/n forces rafe to drop his busy schedule for one night.

she chuckled to herself as she clipped her earrings in, listening silent to rafe’s anxious footsteps scurrying about the house.

y/n timed his arrival perfectly, making sure to be just about ready once he walked through the door, then slipping in and out of the kitchen while he was distracted, pocketing his phone.

adjusting her jewellery one last time, she exited the bathroom, her sandals clicking against the floor as she headed downstairs, anticipating a confrontation.

just as she thought, rafe shifted nervously in the door way, his eyes flirting around the room. “angel have you seen my phone?” he questioned, exhaling in frustration.

his eyes narrowed as she giggled, watching her manicured hand dip into her bag, pulling out his mobile phone. “baby, why do you have my phone?” he asked again, stepping closer to reach for it. before he could grasp it, she quickly dropped it back into her bag.

“because, you’re so busy all the time! so i’ve planned a whole night together, and the rule is that you’re not allowed to stress over anything business related” she exclaimed, summing him to follow her as she opened the front door, exiting into the summer breeze.

“you know i can’t do that baby, i can’t miss any shipments..” he sighed, following after her quickly. “and that’s why…” she sang, quickly unlocking the car. “barry’s going to be looking after shit tonight, m’kay? look, i’ve already spoken to him about it, he’s gonna take care of it” she groaned, attempting to reassuring him as she lured him closer to the car.

huffing, he glanced at her for a second, almost immediately finding comfort in her eyes, at least enough to convince him to get his ass in the car.

sliding into the passenger seat, he clipped himself in before placing a protective hand on her thigh, earning a large grin while she turned the keys in the ignition. “so where are we going?” he spoke eagerly, rubbing gentle circles into her exposed leg. “the beach!” she squealed, pulling out of their driveway excitedly.

“the beach? baby i’m wearing a suit..” he whined, throwing his head back against the seat. “so? it’ll be fun! don’t be such a party pooper!” she teased, eyes concentrated on the road as his bore a hole into her face.

he smirked as his eyes scanned her face, noticing the lack of makeup, paired with a simple sundress that lingered perfectly around her knees.

rafe sighed contently as he listened to her quiet hums, in tune with the radio. i could listen to this all day, he thought, almost worried her quiet harmonies would lull him to sleep.

“hey! look alive! we’re here!” she shrieked, jolting him slightly as he rested his eyes. “i’m coming!” he retorted with a groan, exiting the car.

“what are you doing?” he questioned, puzzled at her sudden disappearance. “be patient!” she snapped jokingly, rounding the car once more, this time with a basket on her arm, full of picnic snacks.

his eyes widened, a sudden warm feeling twanging his heart as he watched her eyes light up, holding the heavy basket like her life depended on it. “i think i might have packed too much..” she frowned, looking between him and the basket, which was overflowing with various sorts of bread.

he chuckled at her silent pleas, swiftly taking the basket from her arm, placing it on his instead.

the look on his face was priceless as she took off in a sprint towards the shoreline, unbothered by the copious amounts of sand quickly filling her sandals.

“rafe look! the moon!” she shrieked, sticking her hand out like a child as she bounced on her feet. “i know angel, it’s bright tonight huh?” he muttered, connecting the dots in his mind.

he wasn’t a moron, and he knew she wasn’t either. rafe was well aware that she’d absolutely spent days planning this, making sure they left the house at exactly the right time, ensuring they got to their destination just as the full moon reached its peaks, glistening down on the soft waves.

“there’s a blanket in the basket, i think we should put it here!” she suggested, pointing to the spot she stood in, right in the middle of the beach. he nodded quickly, setting the basket down to rifle through it before unrolling the large throw blanket she’d brought, laying it out in front of her. “here?”

“it’s perfect!” she sang, quickly situating herself cross legged on the soft material. following suit, rafe lay down beside her, propping himself up with his elbow, allowing his shirt to become disheveled slightly, exposing his solid chest.

“you look nice tonight..” she giggled, cupping his cheeks as she pulled him into her lap, stroking his buzzed hair with the tips of her nails. “and you, look absolutely beautiful my sweet girl..” he cooed, pressing gentle kisses to her clothed hips as he relaxed into her lap.

hours of laughter and stolen kisses passed when she took notice of his first yawn, frowning slightly as she checked the time, disappointed that the night was leaving them so quickly.

“hey..will you swim with me?” she whispered, drumming her fingers against his nose, quickly drawing his attention to her. “swim? what about our clothes?”

“c’mon! it’ll be romantic! and i doubt we’ll get to do something like this again for a while..” she sighed, pouting at him. pretending to consider it, he twisted his face for a moment, looking into the sky, deep in thought. “fine, let’s go..”

y/n squealed in excitement as she jumped up, racing him to the shallow end of the sea.

“ha-ha! i win!” she yelled, splashing around as she shivered against the cold water. “oh yeah?” he teased, a devilish smile plastered on his face as he waded towards her. “no! stay back! you will absolutely not dunk me this time!” she shrieked, desperately making her escape.

too slow against the current of the ocean, he managed to wrap a strong arm around her waist, dragging her under with him. her screams became muffled as a torrent of bubbles escaped her mouth, prickling the surface.

as he brought her back up, she let out a gasp, coughing as she choked slightly. “you…are dead!” she cried breathlessly, launching herself at him, causing him to topple backwards with a splash, water now trickling from his suit pockets.

losing track of time, the pair quickly got lost in the moment, chasing each other continuously around in circles, stealing kisses when they re-emerged from under the surface.

they stood breathless together, holding each other like they’d never see eachother again if they let go. she craned her neck into the crook of his, slowly beginning a rhythm with her hips, swaying to the sound of the small waves crashing.

he mimicked her actions, moving his hands to grip her waist, bunching her sopping dress up. they rocked back and forth, admiring each others features as the moonlight shone down on them, highlighting their prominent features.

y/n’s eyes began to brim with tears as she noticed a large smile settling on his face, so utterly enamoured with the man.

“i love you rafe, thank you for taking the night off with me..” she muttered, pressing a wet kiss to his lips. returning the favour, he deepened the kiss, using a free hand to hold the back of her head, smoothing down her frizzing hair.

“i love you too angel, maybe you should hide my phone more often..”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #dom!rafe #soft!rafe cameron #soft!dom #soft!rafe #dealer!rafe #dealer!rafe cameron #bf!rafe cameron #bf!rafe #soft!rafecameron #dealer!rafecameron #obx cast #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outerbanks

[normspellsman]

what sports i think the metkayina trio + spider would play modern au headcanons!

second part to what sports i think the sully children play!

slowly but surely trying to get thru this writer block & hiatus 🤞🏽

ao’nung

swimming and/or water polo

— he probably just naturally has a build built for water sports so he excels in it & is super cocky about it too (#blessedgenes)

— was defeated not given the choice on which sport he’d play when he was younger. both of his parents probably did either sport so they’d want him to also do it as well. or they at least wanted him to do one

— i don’t see him being the team captain but he’d def be co-captain or an alternate. he loves the sport don’t get him wrong but not to the extent where he’d be team captain. he already has enough pressure to perform well & doesn’t need that kind of title placed on him

— def see him being a butterflyer or a backstroker. like he much rather do those strokes in a swim meet than the other two

— is 100% the type of kid to have “eat my bubbles!” sharpied onto his arm or lower back during meets. probably begged his mom to write it on there too 😭

— also has to have the order of his races written on his arm so he doesn’t forget the order & where he’s supposed to go

— sees no point in wearing a swim cap

— always challenged himself by trying to score a point higher from his last game in water polo or get a better time in whatever stroke for swimming. he’d make sure to ask his parents to like reward him or something so he’d have the drive to do it. but even then, he’s still able to do it without the prize

— wears sandals everywhere. period. no arguments.a

— has such a bad swim trunk tan line. he really tries to get it even in the summer or during swimming season by wearing speedos lol

tsireya

volleyball (indoor, sand, + grass)

— girl is graceful asf on the court

— position would probably be setter or outside i feel like. she might not have the height for it but def has the hops. like a secret weapon of sorts. you’d never expect it

— is 100% the team captain

— she is so supportive of her team & always makes sure that one of her teammates is not stuck in their head or blaming themselves for a bad play

— i can see her number either being 1 or some random ass number, like 49 or 27

— always has the best hair-dos on the court. she seriously goes all out

— def the designated braider of the team so she has to make sure her girls are looking fresh asf on the court too 🫶🏼

— very humble about her accomplishments & wins. she very much believes that an individual does not win a game, a team does so all of that congratulations should be projected to the team rather than on an individual level

— probably has this pregame ritual where she gets there super early to get used to the size of the gym/court. peppers by herself & gets into the zone 100%

— does volleyball literally all year around. so she’ll do school & club for indoor, sand in the summer, & grass for fun. it’s her whole life tbh

— ronal is 100% the team mom. no questions asked

swimming

— i can also see her doing swim, but like only for a club during the summer when she doesn’t have anything for volleyball

— her & ao’nung are the best sibling duo in this sport 100%. they’re always paired up for a medley relays

— she likes free style more than the other strokes so that’s her main event during meets usually

— isn’t as passionate about it as her parents or brother. would much rather do & play volleyball than swim

— is also the kid to have “eat my bubbles!” written somewhere on there body lol

rotxo

soccer

— i can def see him playing soccer & being like a striker or a forward

— is def the one that annoys the coach to no end & ends up causing the team to run laps bc of it. sometimes it’s totally not intentional. it just happens lol

— team clown 100%

— he doesn’t really score a lot of goals but he does assist his teammates in their scoring. has the most assists on his team (idk if that’s a thing in soccer)

— has the most weirdest celebrations ever whenever he does manage to score

— been playing since he could walk fr

— jersey number is probably something like 14 or a random even number. bro likes even numbers for some reason

— is a really versatile player & if need be, can play goalie or be a defender if a player is out sick or injured

— def plays for his school & local town club

baseball

— can def see rotxo playing this as well

— most definitely a catcher (idk why but i just see it)

— probably only got into it to work on his soccer skills somehow or to work on his eye & hand coordination since he’s quite good with his feet & eyes

— only plays for his school since soccer usually takes up most of his free time

— lowkey has a wicked curveball

— he likes the catcher uniform bc it looks like he’s an autobot from transformers lol

— surprisingly somehow became captain & doesn’t know what to do with that title most times

— really good at determining calls for the pitcher & suggesting what they should throw next

spider

hockey

— no one would expect someone like spider to play this sport so everyone’s shocked when he says what sport he plays

— probably a defenseman & has the most penalties on his team lol

— ^ will literally fight everyone on the ice if need be. he plays dirty & truly doesn’t give a single fuck

— not a team captain but probably one of the alternatives. he’s more on the silent side regarding his “captaincy” but has the ability to talk his teammates up when they aren’t playing very well. bro has a way with words fr

— a lot of people think he’s a playboy hockey player but that’s FAR from the truth. he barely has enough confidence to talk to a girl on & off the ice. poor boy just shuts down

— since he’s like 6’0+, his build is really intimidating & he uses it to his advantage. def slams others into the boards as hard as he can when they’re down however many points. like, just imagine a 6’0+ dude like spider skating down the ice at literal lightning speed to slam you into the boards. i’d be shitting my pants fr

— started playing at the age of like 4 or 5 probably

— he loves skating so much that he goes to the rink or puts on rollerblades & just skates around to calm down or let out some steam. it’s really his outlet

— his number is most definitely 69 or 96. some funny shit like that

— will also defend his teammates with his life on the ice if someone were to fuck with them. that’s his family. he’d do anything for them

— ^ especially their goalie. bro is only gentle with their goalie & if anyone fucks with them, you best expect his gloves to be thrown & knuckles bloody from how hard he punched. ride or die fr

— nicknames probably consist of spider (obvi), kilometer (for miles lol), socks (for socorro), ironfist (for how much he gets into fights), & oreo/orro (for socorro)

�� has the talent & ability to potentially go to college for hockey. he puts so much time & effort into his skills & the sport & it def shows through how he plays

#normspellsman #normspellsman talks! #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #atwow imagines #avatar: the way of water #modern au #modern au headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #ao’nung headcanon #tsireya headcanons #spider headcanons #rotxo headcanons #ao’nung #spider socorro #tsireya #rotxo

[joedirtymadre]

new to your blog and it's absolutely ADORABLE! :D may I please req a toge inumaki x reader fluff where toge/reader return after a looong day to their s/o and bask in their warmth? maybe turns into eventual smut? all upto you and absolutely fine if you don't want to, thank youu and ly!! :)

Thank you 🥹 AND YES I CAN (and I hope this one care out great!). Also I normally do (character x F reader) unless someone asks for something different. So keep that in mind when reading my stories 🥸

Bath Time?

Anyways- TOGE X READER *SMUT (STILL TAKING REQUESTS PLS SEND EM 🧎‍♀️)

“Hmm… he said he finished his assignment about an hour ago, so he should be here by now…” I trailed off as I set the table. I quickly finished setting the table and placing down the food, in hopes that he would arrive before it gets cold. “If he’s taking this long to get home, then it must’ve been a tough mission,” I sighed as I covered the meal to prevent it from getting too cold. “I should have a bath ready for him,” I said and headed to the bathroom to start a warm bath for him. As soon as I finished filling the bath with hot water I heard the front door open.

I walked out, and saw Toge removing his shoes and putting on his sandals. I walked up and he noticed my presence and faced me. “Hi honey,” I smiled. “Salmon,” he said and reached out for me. I slowly pulled him into a hug and I felt him relax as I rubbed his back. Rough day today?” I asked. “Bonito flakes…” he sighed. “I thought so… so I made you something tasty,” I said as I guided him to the dinner table. “Kelp? Salmon?” He questioned. “I thought some rice balls and katsudon with curry might make today a little better,” I said and uncovered the food. “Tuna mayo!” He said excitedly and quickly sat down. “Salmon, kelp, caviar,” he said softly and he placed his hands together and bowed his head lightly. Then he quickly began eating as if he hadn't eaten anything all day. “I guess they didn’t give you a break today huh?” I asked before taking a seat myself. “Mustard leaf,” he mumbled before taking another big bite. “I’m glad you like it, and I have a bath ready for you too. So finish up and get ready ok?” I asked. He nodded and we both finished up eating.

I began picking up the dishes, “Alright now go wash up before the bath,” I smiled. Toge grabbed my arm, almost making me lose balance of the dishes. “Toge?” I asked, confused. “Salmon,” Toge said as he removed the plates from my hands and set them in the sink. He then dragged me to the restroom. “T-Toge?” I stuttered as he shut the door. “Bonito flakes,” he said as he pointed to the both of us and then the bathtub. “Oh! Y-You want to take a bath together?” I blushed. “Tuna mayo,” he smiled, and began removing his clothing. I blushed at the sight of him, I don’t know why I still get so embarrassed. It’s not like I haven’t seen him naked before, but still… I slowly began removing my clothing as well. I covered my chest, feeling my face heat up. Hopefully, he thinks it’s from the steam, or else he’ll tease me about it. “Salmon,” he said as he turned on the shower head and moved me in front of him. The water rained down on us lightly, I then watched as he grabbed some body wash and lathered up his hands in soap. I squeaked when I suddenly felt his hands on my hips. I heard him chuckle and I bit my lip. I tried my best to keep calm, but his hands roamed around my body. I then felt one hand cup my left breast and the other right on my abdomen. “T-Toge…” I whispered as he began playing with my nipple. “Hmm?” I heard. “I-I think I’m clean enough. I think it’s y-your turn,” I said before grabbing some soap and lathering my hands. I turned around to face him and began to lather some soap on his chest. I slowly moved them lower and lower, before stopping. I was suddenly pushed into the wall behind me and felt a pair of strong yet soft lips overcome mine. I wrapped my hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. He then pulled away and went straight for my neck, sucking and nibbling all over. “Ah~! Toge!” I let out. After this I felt Toge attack my neck rougher, and felt his hands roam down to my legs pulling them up to where he’s now carrying me. After a few more minutes of making out I felt Toge begin to walk me out of the bathroom. “Toge?” I asked, confused. Before being suddenly thrown onto a soft flat surface.

I blushed as I realized that he took me to the bedroom. I watched as he stared down at me, panting, and letting his eyes roam around each inch of my body. “Doggy position,” he said, and my body quickly acted on its own and flipped over onto all fours. I blushed heavily from the lewd position I was in, all fours with my pussy spread out for him. I squeaked as I felt a thumb graze over my pussy lips. “Mm~” Toge let out and slowly entered 2 fingers. I gasped, and quickly bit my lip. Trying to hold on whatever sounds I’d make. Toge must’ve taken this as a challenge because he quickly increased the speed. I laid there on all fours gripping the sheets until my knuckles turned white trying to not let out any loud moans. “Salmon…” he said frustrated. “T-Toge… sl-slow down!” I gasped and tried to look back. He then slowly removed his fingers, giving me a moment to catch my breath. But a moment too little as I gasped from the large, hard cock that slipped inside. He quickly grabbed both my arms pulling them behind me. His cock filled up my insides perfectly, and without a second to adjust to the size difference Toge quickly began ramming into me. “Ah~ Ah~ To-!” I drooled as I finally gave up on controlling my moans. “Louder,” I heard, and my moans began filling the entire room. My mind was blank, all I could comprehend was the sounds of his thrusting and my moans. “Oge~ Toge~!” I cried out, with my face hitting the sheets. Suddenly Toge released my right arm and it fell to the side, I have no strength to move it. “Rub yourself,” I heard him say and my arm moved itself under me, straight to my clit. My eyes widened as I began rubbing my clit, “No~! Too much~!” I cried out, but my hand wouldn’t stop, and neither did Toge. This begging only made him fuck me harder, as I felt him lean over me even more. Making his cock fill my pussy up even deeper.

I felt the familiar burning sensation running through my body and knew what was coming. “Oge~! Slow do- Gon- cum~!” I gasped, but it was too late. I felt my body tremble as a wave of pleasure ran through me and I quickly bit into the sheets until it passed. My body finally relaxed and my arm dropped. I then realized… Toge’s still inside, and he’s still hard. “T-Toge?” I asked softly, and before I could turn I felt him slowly pull out before ramming back inside. I moaned loudly and fell back in the sheets. “Wait~! I-! I’m s-sensiti-!” I cut my self off as Toge begin fucking me even rougher. His sadistic side is coming out! My moans filled the room again as he continued pounding my pussy, I then felt him pull my body up slowly. With a hand on my hand to face him, he pulled me into a rough, but passionate kiss before thrusting again. I then felt his free hand snake down my body and began rubbing my sensitive clit. “Mm!” I moaned into his mouth. I trembled as I was at the mercy of this man. Oh god I love it. I felt his fingers rub my clit faster and faster, with his thrusts slowing down but still deep. “F-Fuck…” he groaned into the kiss. “Toge~ Cum inside me~” I said softly as I pulled away. I watched as he smirked and nodded. He leaned a little forward and continued thrusting, while rubbing my clit. I bit my lip, and suddenly heard, “Cum.” An electric shock ran through my body as I threw my head back towards Toge and felt as he bit onto my shoulder while he rammed one last hard and deep thrust into my sensitive pussy. We both took a minute to catch our breath before moving from our current position. “Salmon…” he said softly and kissed my shoulder that he bit. “Toge… bath now? Please?” I panted. “Tuna mayo,” he chuckled and slowly carried me back to the restroom to continue our bath.

#anime fanfic #fanfic #fluff #x reader #anime #toge x reader #inumaki toge #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk #jjk smut #smut #fanfic smut #toge smut #inumaki smut #jujutsu kaisen

[wannab-urs]

Title: Scotty Doesn't Know

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Summary: Scotty doesn't know you're hooking up with Dieter

Tags: songfic, smut, infidelity, dieter is a loser, scotty doesn't really deserve this he's just annoying, crack taken seriously, porn with the barest of plots, barely edited. WC: 2.8k

A/N: the song came on and I thought it would make a funny dieter fic? I'm shadowbanned and marked explicit rn, so lemme earn it with this gratuitous smut fic.

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Scotty doesn't know that [Reader] and me

Do it in my van every Sunday

She tells him she's in church but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Scotty doesn't know

–

The parkin' lot, why not?

It's so cool when you're on top

Dieter: Here 8=D

You slip out of the church, the preacher just getting started, and head to the back of the parking lot. Dieter’s beat up old VW bus, affectionately called “The Van,” is nestled between two big pickup trucks. Even if Scotty drives by the church, there’s no way he’ll see that Dee is here. 

You pull open the side door, cringing at the loud rattle. Dieter is completely naked, laid out in a suggestive pose and smirking at you. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Dieter.”

“But I’m cute. Get in here!” 

You clamber into the van and roll the door shut behind you before sitting on the old beat up mattress beside Dee. He plucks at the thin straps of your sundress. 

“I like this, baby. It’s pretty. Take it off.” 

You roll your eyes at him but strip your dress off anyway. You ditch your panties while you’re at it and kick both your sandals into the very back of the van, before sitting back down on your knees beside Dieter. He pulls you in for a sloppy kiss with way too much tongue, and you shriek and slap his chest. 

“Quiet! You wouldn’t want Scotty to find out…” he waggles his eyebrows at you. 

You push him so that he falls flat on his back and straddle him. He slips his hand between your legs, dragging his thick fingers through your slick and then pushing one inside to the knuckle. The chunky ring on his middle finger digs into your labia. 

“Ow Dieter, your fu- fucking ring is stabbing me.” 

“I’m not taking it off.” Dieter pumps his finger into you just to emphasize his point and you whimper. 

“I actually can’t stand you. It’s gonna bruise,” you whine.

“Not like Scotty goes down on you enough to ever see it.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but he has a point. You’re the only one who will know, and you’re not necessarily opposed to having Dieter’s mark on you as long as Scotty won’t find out. Instead of answering him, you lean forward and kiss him. Dieter adds his middle finger, curling his fingertips against your walls and fuck it feels good. 

You suck Dieter’s bottom lip into your mouth and pull back, nipping his lip before you separate from him completely. “Lemme ride you.” 

“Fuck yeah!” Dieter pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth as you line up with his cock. You sink down on him slowly, pressing your hands into his chest. Dieter’s head drops back onto the mattress when you bottom out. “It’s so cool when you’re on top,” he breathes, palming both of your tits. 

“It’s so cool when you shut up,” you retort, but some of the bite is lost in how breathless you sound. You lift up on your knees, letting him slide almost completely out of you before you drop back down. Dieter grabs your hips and forces you to roll them forward, dragging your clit along the coarse hair at his base. You let your head fall back between your shoulder blades. Let Dieter drag you back and forth on his cock until you can’t hold in your whimpers anymore. He’s so deep inside you, grinding into your g-spot, it’s not long before you feel your cunt flutter around him, feel yourself soak him with your slick. 

“That’s right baby, come on my cock,” he smirks at you. 

“You know, you don’t have to speak,” you say, pulling yourself off him. 

“Wait! I didn’t get to come yet,” Dieter pouts at you. And god help you, it’s too adorable to resist. His plush bottom lip sticking out and his big brown eyes welling with undoubtedly fake tears. 

You get situated between his thighs and take his dick in your hand. He looks extremely relieved, as if not coming would have been the end of the world. You lick a stripe from his balls to his tip, eyes never leaving his, and he whimpers, still pouting a little. You roll your eyes at him and suck him down to the root. He tries to buck into your mouth, but you pin his hips down and set your own pace. 

You cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently as you suck him off. He rests his hands on the back of your head, not pushing or pulling you, just wanting to touch you. 

You really need to get back inside before the preacher wraps up his sermon, so you slip one finger behind his sack and press it into his perineum. Even indirect stimulation to his little bundle of nerves drives him insane, and his grip on the back of your head tightens as he comes down your throat with a strangled cry. 

“Fuck! Fucking fuck fuck fuck.” 

You pull off him with a pop, swiping your thumb across your bottom lip to make sure nothing spilled out. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Dieter sighs. 

[Reader] says she's out shopping

But she's under me

And I'm not stopping

“I’m at the mall. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Sure thing, babe. Love you!” Scotty hangs up before you even have to answer him. You shove your phone in your pocket and knock on Dieter’s apartment door. 

You hear a weird amount of shuffling and banging around before the door opens. Dieter’s hair is a complete wreck, his ratty green robe is hanging open to reveal nothing underneath, and eyes are still bleary with sleep. 

“It’s 3 in the afternoon. Did you just wake up?” 

“Yes. Now get in here,” Dieter grabs your hand and pulls you into his apartment. He slams the door shut and continues dragging you by the wrist until you’re in his room. His bed, or rather his mattress on the floor, is unmade… but at least it has sheets on it. 

Dieter doesn’t waste time stripping your clothes off of you, tossing his own robe into the pile on the floor. “So where are you today?” He asks as he kisses your neck, walking back toward the bed. 

“The mall,” you tell him as you sink down (way down) onto the bed and pull him on top of you. 

“Won’t you need shopping bags for that lie?” Dieter asks, dragging his aquiline nose down your throat, between the valley of your breasts, and kissing your belly. 

“He won’t notice,” you sigh, putting your hands in his messy hair and pushing his head down between your legs. You’re already wet, just from seeing him naked at the door, as much as you hate to admit it. 

You’re really not sure what it is about this loser that turns you on so much. It’s probably his massive dick and pretty face – two things Scotty is not in possession of. 

Dieter licks a stripe through your folds and moans at the taste. You love how much he loves to eat you out. Dieter pulls your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between your legs, stuffing his tongue in your cunt and grinding his nose into your clit. You tug on his hair and he whines into your skin. 

He pulls back and nips your thigh. “Dieter! Don’t–” He plunges two fingers into your cunt, cutting off the reprimand. His ring nestles right up to the bruise he left the other day and it hurts, but you like it. 

“Don’t make a mark,” Dieter mocks. “I know, baby.” He places his lips over your clit and sucks on it in time to the thrust of his fingers. You fucking love his mouth, tell him as much with a long groan of his name. He curls his fingers into your walls, nibbles lightly on your clit. You arch your back and pull his face into you by his hair as you come, cunt clamping down on his fingers. He works you through it, gently massaging your g-spot until your body relaxes. 

“Fuck, Dieter.” 

“That’s the idea, babe.” Dieter pushes your legs off his shoulders and climbs on top of you. He rests his weight on one arm by your head and hitches your thigh over his hip with the other. His hard cock runs through your soaking pussy a few times before his head catches on your entrance and he slides in to the hilt. 

His head drops to your shoulder and he shudders out a breath. “Always feel so good, baby.” 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him tight to you as he starts rolling his hips. One of your hands slides up into that tousled mess of hair on his head and the other clings tightly to his shoulder. 

You tilt your head back, giving him space to kiss your neck as he ruts into you. Filthy, drawn out moans spill from your lips every time he bottoms out. His only sounds are little grunts of exertion, muffled by your skin. 

He drops your thigh and sits up on his knees, pulling you into his lap. He wraps his hands around the underside of your thighs and pushes your knees up toward your chest. “Gonna fuck you for real now, baby. Gonna make you scream my name.” 

You’d roll your eyes at him, but you know he’s right. He pushes back inside you, giving you a second to adjust to the new angle, and then he starts slamming his hips down into you. He’s hitting something so deep, you know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow. 

Maybe that’s his goal. 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his back as he absolutely rails you. (He doesn’t have a girlfriend to hide the marks from). “Oh GOD, Dieter. FUCK.” You curse as he bottoms out again and again. 

His curls are sweaty with exertion and hanging over his forehead, bouncing with every thrust of his hips. You focus your eyes there as you feel your entire body tense up. He drops one of your legs and leans forward, crashing his mouth into yours just as you come on his cock. The tight squeeze of your cunt around him sends him over the edge and you feel his hips stutter as he comes inside you with a groan. 

He collapses onto the bed beside you and drags you into his arms, not even bothering to clean you up. You curl up on his sweaty chest and he nuzzles his face into your hair. 

“So what time do you have to be done ‘shopping?’” 

“Too soon.” 

I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

[Reader]'s got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing

Your phone rings not even a full minute after Dieter makes you come all over his face. You flail your arm out to the side until your hand hits the bedside table, fumbling around for the device.

It’s Scotty.

“Hey baby!” you answer in a probably-too-chipper tone. 

“Hi, babe. What are you up to?” Scotty asks. Dieter signals for you to put the phone on speaker, which you don’t do. 

“Oh just reading. How was your day?” Dieter grabs your hips and flips you over on the bed, so that you’re lying on your stomach. You suppress the yelp that almost falls from your lips. 

“Put it on speaker,” Dieter growls in your ear. “Or I’ll make this even harder for you.” You feel yourself get even wetter despite your annoyance. 

You put the phone on speaker and listen to Scotty continue to ramble on about his day. Dieter pulls your hips backwards until you’re on your knees. He drags his fingers through your very wet core and strokes his dick a couple times. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Scotty that su-ucks,” you stutter as Dieter sheathes himself inside you. 

“You good babe?” Scotty’s tinny voice filters out of your flip phone. 

“Yeah! Just choked on my own spit…” 

Dieter snorts and you shoot a glare over your shoulder at him. He smirks at you, drawing his hips back and sliding back in slowly. He’s not dumb enough to cause your skin to slap together, but he is a fucking idiot for doing this in the first place. 

Scotty keeps rambling on about some asshole customer at the Dairy Queen he works at, and you bite back a moan as Dieter grinds his hips against your ass, pressing his cock in deep. 

He grabs your hair in his fist and pulls so that your head is tipped back and starts fucking into you at a steady pace, stopping just short of bottoming out so that the only noise is the wet drag of him through your core. 

“What’s that weird sound in the background?” 

“Huh?” Your body tenses with anxiety, but it just causes you to tighten around Dieter and fuck if it doesn’t feel good. 

“There’s like, a weird noise I don’t know.” 

“Probably just my cat, babe.” Dieter snorts again, but you can’t really do anything about it in your current position. You decide to stop worrying so much and enjoy yourself. 

You drop down to your elbows and push your ass higher in the air. The change in angle has his cock brushing your g-spot on every thrust and you bite your pillow to muffle any noises you don’t manage to hold back. 

Dieter fucks you as hard as he can without making too much noise – he doesn’t really want you to get caught, after all. Half the fun is cucking Scotty. 

“Okay babe, I gotta get back to work. See you later?” Scotty drones.

“Later!” You manage to choke out before scrambling to flip your phone shut. The second it’s closed, you toss it on the floor and let out a loud moan. Dieter finally starts fucking you like he wanted to in the first place, and the loud slapping of his hips against your ass fills the room. 

You come with a scream, burying your face in your pillow and thrusting your hips back to meet Dieter’s. He fucks you through it and doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting deep inside you, hitting something that has you screaming into your pillow. He doesn’t stop fucking you until you come again, and only then does he follow you over the edge. 

He pulls out and spreads your ass cheeks, watching his cum drip from your hole, then he drapes himself over your body and whispers in your ear. “Was that your first three way?” 

You’re so fucked out you can’t be mad at him, which was probably his goal. You giggle deliriously. “Mmhmm.” You drop all the way down to the bed, sprawling out. Dieter wiggles in close to you and wraps his arms around you. 

His front lawn in the snow

Life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know

Scotty doesn't know

I did her on his birthday

It’s Scotty’s birthday. So really, you should be by his side. Instead, he’s inside getting wasted with his friends, and you’re in his side yard… getting railed by Dieter. 

Dieter has you against the house, your long skirt pinned above your hips, and one leg hitched around his waist. His lips are attached to your neck and you should really tell him to stop before he leaves a mark, but you don’t want him to. 

He snaps his hips into you rapidly and you brace yourself on his shoulders and rock your hips to meet his thrusts, panting into the frozen air. 

“It’s cold as fuck, Dieter, hurry.” 

“You fucking hurry.” He slips his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. 

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you whine. You’re so fucking close to coming – just a couple more minutes like this and you’d be clenching on his cock. But life doesn’t always work out that way. 

The sound of the back door slamming causes both of you to jump and your foot slips out from under you. Both of you go crashing to the icy ground, Dieter landing on top of you. 

“What the fuck is going on out here?” Scotty asks, clearly pissed. 

“Oh SHIT!” Dieter starts to try to come up with some bullshit excuse, but you just scramble to your feet and take off running to the front yard. Dieter follows close behind you, dragging his pants up as he runs. 

You throw the side door of his van open and jump in as Dieter hops in the front seat. Scotty makes it to the curb right as Dieter peels away. You slam the door shut and fall back on the mattress. Dieter glances back over his shoulder, a big goofy grin on his face. 

“So I guess Scotty knows.” 

I hope you enjoyed this truly ridiculous fic <3

#Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fan fiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction