#but like coming back to the first scene. it's the humans that approach him and it's them that lie. under the assumption that he had

[worm-wood-words]

Love/hate how much writing this first scene has me so closely examining it but I guess at least it shows some signs of me at least moving on a bit.

#like...making it clear that despite David being a demon the humans in this situation are hardly innocent. like...hes just playing into what #they already want to do. 'as much as the deceit repulsed him it was understandable. he would wait. and see if they turned to theft' #mainly I'm just worried about portraying him and Lucy later on. and anything with Asmodeus for that matter #granted it's made pretty clear that despite being a literal prince of hell the dude has some standards #maggot original #but like coming back to the first scene. it's the humans that approach him and it's them that lie. under the assumption that he had #no fucking clue what they actually wanted

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water Pt. II

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: the aftermath of letting him in

pt.I

(art credits: @yunonoaii)

warnings: 18+ content

“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.

“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.

Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.

However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.

“how about this, sweetheart we-“

“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.

“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.

“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.

BZZT!

He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.

“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.

He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.

“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.

“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.

“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.

“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.

Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.

“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.

You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.

His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…

You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.

He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”

“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.

You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.

You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.

You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.

“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”

“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.

This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.

Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.

At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.

You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.

But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.

“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.

“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.

“go ahead”

“hold on to something right”

“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.

Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.

His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.

His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.

“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.

“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.

The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.

As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.

“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.

You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.

“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.

“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.

“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.

“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.

“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.

You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.

You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.

“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.

“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.

“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.

You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.

“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.

He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.

“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.

You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.

He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.

You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.

“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.

“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.

You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.

“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.

And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.

You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.

“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.

His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.

“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.

“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.

It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.

He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.

“can i be freed now?” He asks.

“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.

“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.

“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”

“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.

You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.

His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.

“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.

“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.

“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.

You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.

“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.

“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.

RIIIIING

RIIIIING

You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.

Shit.

“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”

“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.

“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.

“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”

“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.

“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.

“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.

“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.

“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.

You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.

“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.

“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.

You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.

“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.

“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.

“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.

“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.

“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.

Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…

#ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #milkman smut #milkman x reader #milk the man #milkman #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by. 

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did. 

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief. 

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?" 

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties. 

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal. 

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

#when i tell y'all i went feral for finnick writing this #good lord #wife of all dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #thg finnick #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #sam claflin #the hunger games fanfic #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #josh hutcherson

[normspellsman]

She Is Mine

part one | part two

pairing: neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

genre: violence, bit of angst + fluff, & comfort

word count: 2.7k+

warning(s): death threats, mentions of death + injuries + blood, reader thinking she’s going to die + accepts it, neteyam going apeshit on an avatar soldier, reader being stabbed, mentions of brutal killings / violence, reader crying, & a bit of dark!neteyam

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @liyahsocorro @amortencjja @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @chshshhshshshshshshshs @minkyungseokie

word bank: mawey — calm; calm down, eywa / the great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, ikran — winged creature used for flying + hunting, yawne — beloved, & yawntutsyip — darling; little darling

note: literally wrote this within two to three hours so it might not be that great, so bare with me. hope you guys liked it & let me know if i should do something similar to this with lo’ak <3

It was stupid really.

When you think back on it, it was definitely stupid to agree to tag along with Lo’ak and the rest to wherever the hell they were planning on going. But you could not say no to Tuk when she asked you to come with them. She was your weakness and used it to her advantage.

You’d been silently weaving a new armband for your boyfriend, Neteyam, when his youngest sister had approached you, hands interlocked behind her back and the all too familiar ‘innocent’ look plastered on her face. You knew that whatever she was thinking of saying or asking you would end up in you ultimately agreeing to it, most likely getting you in trouble with your lover.

“Join me and Kiri to the mountains with Lo’ak. Pretty please?” She had asked, pouting and widening her amber eyes up at you as she gently swayed from side to side.

You gave in immediately.

It was sad how fast the youngest Sully got you to cave in so quickly. You had restraint with the others, even Neteyam, but had none whatsoever when it came to Tuktirey. You had such a soft spot for her and Tuk took advantage of it every time.

Should’ve never said yes, you grumble to yourself inside your head, head shaking to yourself as you struggled against the restraints the RDA soldiers had put you in upon catching you all when you attempted to leave the scene you weren’t supposed to be at.

Jake instilled it into you guys so many times to never get close to the abandoned shack. You needed asked why. It was something that Jake wasn’t going to argue about and made it very clear after his youngest son tried to pry the answer out of him the first time he mentioned it. Should’ve listened to Jake.

Everything went by so fast, you had barely had time to process what was going on before you were shackled in handcuffs and essentially held prisoner by RDA Avatars.

“Who is she?” A deep voice asked, pulling you out of your seething thoughts.

Quaritch had a good estimate on who was who in the little rag tag group he caught. The five fingered teens one-hundred-percent belonged to Jake Sully while the human boy was a result of the Corporals past. So, that left you and Tuk. He would give it a fifty-fifty chance that the both of you were also Jake’s kids. Man, he and the Missus sure was busy, he thinks to himself, smirking at the thought.

By the only Na’vi boys reaction, Quaritch could tell that you were something else to the kid. A girlfriend perhaps?, he thinks, best friend?.

Lo’ak knew he was fucked the minute Tuk managed to convince you to join in on their little ‘adventure’. Neteyam continuously told him to look out for you whenever he left to go hunt or do whatever their parents told him to do, threatening bodily harm and death if he didn’t obey. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing but regardless of it, still continued on with his plan. Neteyam was so going to kill him.

“Our sister,” Lo’ak muttered, the soldier behind him still had a tight grip on his queue, tightening it before he answered.

Everyone on the scene could tell that Lo’ak was lying. It was evident. The boy's ears were pinned back, mostly in pain, and his tail fell limp beside him as it gently curled in on itself.

Bingo, Quaritch thought to himself, more leverage.

“Hmm, I think you’re lying, boy,” the Corporal starts, inching closer to Lo’ak, “And do you know what I do to liars?” he asked.

You gulped at the man’s words. You could only assume his following answer would entail torture or death. You all were totally fucked either way.

Lo’ak refused to answer the man’s question, making Quaritch smirk even more.

“I punish them,” he answered, a sick and disturbing glint in his eyes as he stared down Jake Sully’s second son.

Anxiety spiked in all of our systems, making you struggle further in the soldier's grasp.

“Don’t hurt him,” you and Kiri pleaded, the soldiers behind you yanking back on your braided queue, making you cry out in pain.

Quaritch tsked at your response, turning towards you as he stalked towards your figure. “I’m not going to hurt him, sweetheart. Just you,” he finalized, pulling out a knife that was sheathed in its carrier on his hip.

You and everyone else began to protest at his words.

“(Y/N)! No!” Lo’ak cried out, trying to inch closer towards you to protect you but was pulled back by a soldier, hissing out in pain and frustration.

Tuk began to cry as she saw the knife inch towards your face before it dipped down to your neck.

“You fucking asshole!” Spider yelled out, struggling in the grips of the two Avatar soldiers holding him, surprisingly making them struggle to keep him in their grasps in return.

Kiri could only close her eyes in response, not wanting to see you get hurt in front of her.

You stopped at the contact the cold knife made with your warm skin, the temperature of it making you lightly flinch back at it. Your heartbeat rose increasingly within the confines of your chest, hammering against the bone. Holy shit, you thought, this is how I’m going to die.

As you looked around and saw your friends' reactions, you accepted your fate. You accepted that you were going to be murdered in front of them. You could only hope that your death would help the Sullys and Spider escape from the soldiers and Quaritch safely and unharmed. You also hoped that it was going to be a quick death. You didn’t want them to see you suffer.

It’s okay, be calm. Don’t fight back, it’ll only make it worse. Mawey. Eywa, please ensure the safe return of the Sully’s and Spider. And make sure that Neteyam finds only happiness after this, you prayed.

Quaritch had taken your queue from the soldiers grasp behind you, granting you momentary relief from the tight hold only to be replaced with an even harsher grip. You hissed out at the returning pain.

“Now, listen here boy,” he starts, pointing the clean knife at Lo’ak, making him look at him, “I want ‘ya to contact your Father and tell him that if he isn’t here after the sun sets, girly over here,” he gestures to you with the knife in hand, “Is going to be gutted and strung up on the tree line as a little surprise for your Daddy. Am I clear?”.

His words makes Tuk cry even harder, making the soldier behind her give up on her hold on the girls queue and instead hold her up by her arms.

Lo’ak reluctantly nodded at his words, swallowing down the gathering spit in his mouth. His eyes jumped from Spider to Quaritch to you, then to Kiri and Tuk. He was dreading the moment his parents and Neteyam arrived, knowing that regardless of how much they cooperate, Quaritch is going to do whatever he wants to even if that includes staying true to his words of harming you.

———

The three were close to nearing the old abandoned shack when Lo’ak called in again, the line going static for a second before he spoke up.

“Quaritch is giving you until after sunset to arrive,” he shakingly starts, anxiety clearly evident in his tone as he speaks, “Or…or he’ll gut (Y/N) and string her up as a welcome gift for you.”.

Neteyam nearly crashes into a tree when he hears his brother's words.

Quaritch was threatening the life of you, his mate, in hopes of riling up Jake. Well, it was working, except it was Neteyam who was riled up and not his Father.

All the boy could see was red as the three of them silently continued their flight towards your destination after Jake told Lo’ak that they were on their way and that the message was clearly received.

Rage boiled up inside of Neteyam’s body, causing him to slightly shake from the emotion atop his ikran. He was going to kill every single one of the soldiers there once he arrived. He’d do anything to get you back. Anything.

———

Everything ached.

From your queue, to your scalp, to your neck, and to the fresh new wound Quaritch left after he decided Lo’ak was taking too long to relay his message to his Father. He had sliced your thigh and stabbed the wound in response, jamming it into the flesh/plush of your thigh. You cried out to the brutal attack, growling out in pain as a handful of tears fell down your cheeks. Quaritch only smirked at your reaction, throwing you down onto the ground as the rest of the soldiers followed suit in discarding their prisoners, herding them into a circle.

Kiri helped you up, allowing you to lean into her. She quickly assessed your wound and deemed that you were going to be fine, as long as no one pulled the knife out from your leg.

Lo’ak held your head in the palms of his hands as he looked for any other slices Quaritch managed to make before stabbing you. He didn’t find any and sighed out in relief from that.

Spider had gathered Tuk in his arms and tried to silence her crying before any of the soldiers got inspiration from Quaritch and decided to punish the child for crying.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” you whispered between grinded teeth after the attack, trying your best to not yank out the foreign object in your thigh. You began to think that maybe you will end up dying out here after all, amongst the beautiful greenery of Pandora. Albeit it not being the way you wanted to go out, it still wouldn’t be the most gruesomest death you imagined happening. You just wished that you were able to kiss Neteyam goodbye one last time.

———

Furious wouldn’t even begin to describe the type of emotion he was feeling at the moment. There probably was no word equivalent to the emotion he currently felt.

Neteyam had ended up disobeying his Fathers orders of him staying with the ikrans, saying that he was ‘too emotionally invested’ and that his anger was too risky for what he was about to face. He thought it was utter bullshit that he wasn’t allowed to aid his parents in rescuing his siblings and his lover from Quaritch. If anything, it gave him more of a reason to focus and get everyone out of there safely.

He had managed to take down two Avatar soldiers in his search for you. He decided that they weren’t worthy of wasting his arrows on, slicing and stabbing them until their throats were practically open wide in exposure or had any time to process the pain. He’d been quick and brutal in his attacks. The more bodies he left behind, the more closer he was to having you in his arms.

His Mother had already released her arrow by the time he arrived on the scene, causing the other soldiers to shoot out into the trees and pull you all up in response. He was forced to hid behind a tree, eyes desperately searching for your familiar figure amongst the Avatar bodies and his siblings.

Neteyam’s eyes finally found your body, still in a soldiers grasp as they tried to pull you away towards where the others were gathering.

His gaze narrowed at the soldiers tight grip on you, robotically notching an arrow and drawing his bowstring back, almost immediately letting it go just as quick as his initial drawing of the arrow.

The arrow lodged itself in between the eyes of the soldier, it’s body slumping backwards as it’s grip loosened on your body, allowing you to follow its descent to the ground.

You groaned out in pain when your body made contact with the forest floor. You were too tired to move out of the way once you realized the soldier that had you in its arms had died, accepting your fall to the floor as gracefully as you could. The knife was still in your thigh, shooting electric hot pain up your leg upon being disturbed from the short fall.

You felt another pair of hands grab you and roughly pull you upwards, you screaming and kicking in retaliation. But just as quickly as their arms grabbed you, they let you go, a loud grunt and hiss following as their body was thrown to the side.

Neteyam had quickly made his way to you once he spotted another Avatar pull you up. He had unsheathed his knife and jumped on the soldier, causing the two of them to roll around on the floor before Neteyam brutally and repeatedly drove his weapon into the Avatar’s body, not stopping until he was certain that he caused enough damage to the fake Na’vi.

Stay away from her, he thought after every stab he inflicted, it’s not her time.

You had looked up when Neteyam delivered the final blow, slitting the insignificant soldier's throat.

You had never seen your mate this angry. Sure there were times where he lashed out at you after an argument or got so angry he hissed and growled at his brother for his ridiculous antics. But never, never have you ever seen him so vengeful. You didn’t even know if vengeful was the right word to describe how Neteyam looked like at the moment. But nothing else came to mind.

“Yawne,” you whispered out, desperate to catch your boyfriend's attention, wanting to get out of the line of fire as quickly as possible.

The teen whipped his head towards you, eyes dilated to the point where they looked like slits in his pupils. His chest was heaving up and down heavily, lungs taking big gulps of air as he did so. A few braids fell in front of his face, masking some of it as he looked at you.

His whole expression softened once he laid eyes on you. He could tell that you wanted to get as far away from the scene as you quickly could, that sad and traumatic look in your eyes at you pleaded with him.

Neteyam quickly shook out of his stupor and gathered you in his arms, being weary of the knife in your leg that he just noticed. Another thing that made him want to kill Quaritch himself.

“It’s okay, I got you yawntutsyip,” he whispered back, dodging all of the flying bullets and arrows he could as he weaved into the heavy forest foliage. His grip on you never faltered as he jumped over logs and ducked under stray branches to get you to safety. His whole body was on autopilot as he ran around, solely focused on getting you out of there alive.

Once Neteyam had decided he was far out enough to not be chased or caught by any more Avatar soldiers, he gently laid you down onto the soft grass, eyes quickly assessing your figure for any other injuries he should be aware about. He let out a sigh of relief when he came to the conclusion that you had no other wounds that needed tending to, softly bringing you into his arms for a warm embrace.

You immediately broke down into the hug, burrowing your face into the crook of Neteyam’s neck and wrapping your arms around his back to bring him in closer. Your sobs were a telltale sign of how distraught you were from the events that just occurred, brain still racing to process it all.

Neteyam softly shushed you as he put one hand on the back of your head and the other on the lower portion of your back, softly rubbing the skin in attempts to comfort you.

“You’re safe now, my love,” he whispered, kissing your hair, “I got you. You’re safe.”.

You relaxed into your lovers arms as he comforted you, feeling safe in his hold.

Neteyam had never gotten that blood thirsty before and that frightened him a little. If he acted like this when you were in trouble, can you imagine how’d he act if you actually died as a result of tonight’s events? He didn’t know the answer to that. All he knew was that you’re his and he’d do anything to ensure that it is not your time yet.

#atwow imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam imagines #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Cuteness Aggression: Fuh'fin's first time meeting humans

The Yimex were respected warriors on the intergalactic scene. They are apex predators by galactic standards. Their muzzles were filled with sharpened teeth fit for ripping flesh apart or even incapacitating their prey. Their agility was unmatched by even most machinery. Their sharp and attentive eyes could see more clearly in dark environments, especially thanks to their mask-like fur pattern.

 

By all means, they were terrifying to every other race. But since their inclusion in the galactic council, they've pulled back on their once-feral nature. Once they met more alien races and realized they held the same beliefs as their people, they agreed to join.

 

The Yimex were terrifying beyond a doubt, but they had honor. They only attacked if they were threatened, and they wouldn't lose. That's why they were so respected throughout the greater galaxy. They also started taking jobs as protectors and guards for other races.

 

The Yimex were highly intelligent and could learn how to use tools and weapons rather quickly. And they also had a grand sense of protectiveness, especially toward smaller creatures and their own. They were gentle protectors once one got over the initial fear.

 

Fuh'fin was a Yimex. He was a guard sent to escort a crew of the newer race added to the council. Humans, if he remembered correctly. He hadn't heard much about them other than that they were apparently considered apex predators, much like the Yimex. Their intelligence was revered by many; however, their biology was much smaller and unfit for war.

 

Ambush predators perhaps? How interesting...

 

Fuh'fin couldn't deny that he was quite excited to meet these humans. He was always interested in meeting other beings from different races. The Yimex were social by nature, and by his understanding, this job was going to be a rather long one. He was excited, yet worried that these humans wouldn't share his excitement.

 

From what he saw, their politicians were quite serious. What if their entire race was like that? Fuh'fin hoped they weren't. He hated jobs that were quiet and purely business. Yes, he could bear it, but it was agony. The Yimex were energetic and always eager to socialize. He hoped this new race would share that desire.

 

Well, no mind to that. He had to seem proper. He had to seem serious; he was working.

 

Fuh'fin walked along with his supervisor. He had to look up at him while he explained this assignment. Yimex were naturally quadrupedal, although they could stand bipedal, but it wasn't very comfortable.

 

"These humans are from a carrier company on earth. Apparently, they wanted to have a guard just in case. They seemed rather eager to have you come with them for whatever reason," Fuh'fin's supervisor said plainly while looking forward.

 

"May I ask why?" Fuh'fin felt a bit curious about why he was picked. Not that he wasn't a good guard. It's just other races; we're still quite scared of the Yimex. It's not every day that he is asked for a job that's not life or death.

 

"They said you reminded them of a creature on their home planet," his supervisor said with a shrug. They did seem as curious as Fuh'fin felt. Maybe he should ask once he meets the captain.

 

Fuh'fin looked over at the ship they were approaching. Sleek and minimalist on the outside, giant thrusters on its side—rather intimidating, if you ask Fuh'fin. Serious and slightly terrifying.

 

Fuh'fin looked over at the letters on the ship's side. His translator worked quickly and translated the text as "USS Bartholomew". Was that a warrior from their race? He wasn't sure about the humans, but many ships from other races are named after warriors. It was interesting; maybe that was something Fuh'fin could use as a conversation starter.

 

Footsteps took Fuh'fin away from his thoughts. He looked over, and finally he saw the human,who he guessed was the captain. He had an expression that Fuh'fin was told meant the human was feeling positive. A smile, if he remembered correctly.

 

"Good day. I'm the captain of the USS Bartholomew," the human said with a calm tone. He brought his hand out to Fuh'fin's supervisor. It was a human greeting, a sign of peace. "The pleasure is mine, captain," his supervisor said plainly, shaking the human's hand.

 

Ah! He should shake his hand as well. After all, it was a greeting. Fuh'fin finally stood on his hind legs. The Yimex were long-bodied, so once they stood on their hind legs, they towered overall.

 

Usually, that terrified other races—a tall, looming predator looking down on you. Yet, this human didn't react more than a slight widening of the eyes. Except it wasn't in fear. Fuh'fin saw the humans' pupils dilate when they looked at Fuh'fin. Wasn't that something that happens to humans when they see something attractive or pleasing to the eye?

 

The human made a coughing sound and trained their face into a calm expression. Yet Fuh'fin could smell dopamine suddenly. A black market stimulant, but he was told humans release it when they're happy. What a strange race!

 

"I'm Captain Gonzalez," the human said with a smile as they extended their hand. Fuh'fin shook the hand with his paw. He could feel the human's heart beat accelerate as his paw pads made contact with the human's hand. The smell of dopamine increased and is now joined by the scent of oxytocin. Another black market stimulant: how many black market substances do humans produce naturally?

 

"I'm Fuh'fin of the Yimex, Captain Gonzalez," Fuh'fin says with a calm tone. The captain stared at him for a moment before their eyes suddenly gained the light of consciousness again. "You– you are a part of the crew; you can call me Hugo," the captain said with a nonthreatening sound, a laugh?

 

"Come with me; I'll show you around," the captain said with a smile, waving his hand for Fuh'fin to follow him. Fuh'fin settled again on his four legs and followed the captain. They boarded the ship.

 

In the new environment, Fuh'fin sniffed around as they walked. He was trying to get used to the new smells. As the captain led Fuh'fin through the corridor, a sweet scent reminded him of the fruit of his mother planet. Subconsciously, Fuh'fin let out a few dooks of happiness.

 

Then a loud metallic sound startled Fuh'fin. He whipped his head around toward the captain and smelled him. The smell of blood filled the air. "Captain! What happened?" Fuh'fin stood on his hind legs to grab the captain's shoulders.

 

The captain had punched a wall. It was pure metal, yet he left a dent. Was he angry at Fuh'fin for making a sound? No, the smell of dopamine was strong. He was happy, but why would he punch a wall?

 

"Captain?" Fuh'fin said softly. He heard Hugo take a deep breath, and then he moved his hand away. "Sorry, cuteness aggression," he said with a smile. He cradled his hand with his non-broken one. Blood spilled from his knuckles.

 

Cuteness aggression? What was that? Why would it merit punching a wall? Why was he feeling it?

 

"Let's take this time to show you the medical deck and get you a new guide while I get patched up," the captain said with a laugh. He walked calmly, like he hadn't just broken his hand and left a dent on a metal wall. How was he so calm? Any other creature would be writhing in pain, yet he walked easily, like it was nothing.

 

Fuh'fin followed him, slightly panicked. "Captain! Why are you so calm? Aren't you in pain?" He asked with worry. "Once the adrenaline crashes, it's going to hurt like a bitch, but I'm fine so far," the captain said easily.

 

Now that he mentioned it, adrenaline was strong in the air. Was he producing this chemical?

 

Before Fuh'fin could ask anything else, they reached the medicine deck. "Doc! I need your assistance and a new guide for our new guy," the captain said pleasantly to a woman writing something. She looked up with a blank expression and then locked eyes with Fuh'fin.

 

She let out a shriek. Fuh'fin recoiled. Did he scare this human? He didn't make any moves that should be considered threatening. The captain seemed unbothered by him. What did he do? Was it his muzzle? Only predators have muzzles. Yeah, it's probably his muzzle. This human probably recognized him as a predator. Should he apologize?

 

Fuh'fin panicked as his eyes darted around to think of a way to apologize for scaring her, yet she squealed. "He's adorable! Oh my God! He looks like a giant ferret!" The human squealed and ran over with a large smile... She wasn't scared?

 

...Wait, adorable?

 

The human woman dropped to her knees and started petting Fuh'fin. He just froze, trying to make sense of what he heard.

 

"He's so cute! I love him! This is the guard you hired? Can we keep him?" The human said it with... excitement? Dopamine and oxytocin were basically pouring out of her as she ran her hands through Fuh'fin's fur. She wasn't scared. She wasn't scared at all.

 

"Uh— uhm... H-hello?" Fuh'fin tried speaking. As confused as he was, the captain needed medical attention. He barely got appointed to this crew; he couldn't just let his captain stay hurt.

 

The human squealed in delight, and Fuh'fin could basically see stars in her eyes. He felt flustered. "The—The captain..." Fuh'fin felt shy; he was so used to other races being terrified of him. Yet here was a human who seemingly adored him just for existing. "He—he's hurt," Fuh'fin finally spat out.

 

"Huh?" The human said it absently and looked at the captain. Her eyes widened, and she stood up suddenly. "Shit! Sorry, captain! Please sit down," she said frantically while picking up a medical carrier. The captain sat down, and the woman started to tend to his hand.

 

Fuh'fin sat next to the captain and curled his tail around himself. How was the captain so calm? He even looked amused, but it was hard to tell. Fuh'fin wasn't the best at reading expressions; the Yimex didn't have facial expressions. They relied on body language to communicate emotion.

 

The captain's body language has not changed from his confident yet relaxed posture. Humans were confusing. The human woman was so open with her body language, but the captain wasn't. They were at different places on the spectrum. Fuh'fin needed to get better at understanding inflection and facial expressions then.

 

The captain patted Fuh'fin's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm fine, Fuh'fin," he said with a smile. Fuh'fin was curious how the captain noticed his worry, and then he noticed he was chittering nervously. "My apologies," Fuh'fin murmured, and he decided to try to calm himself.

 

Fuh'fin shook his head to fix his untidy fur. He settled down comfortably and started grooming himself. He fixed his unruly fur as he waited for the captain to get patched up. He finally rested his paw on the ground and looked at the captain.

 

"Sorry, Fuh'fin, Mina gets excited when she sees fluffy animals," he said with an amused expression. He had noticed Fuh'fin grooming himself. "Better than fear," Fuh'fin said quietly, his ears flattened against his head. "True, much better than fear," the captain said with an understanding tone, like he completely knew what Fuh'fin meant.

 

Something about the captain's words comforted Fuh'fin. "Why aren't you scared of me?" He asked while turning his head to look at the humans. "You remind us of an earth creature, but much bigger," Mina replied. "Is that animal a predator as well?" Fuh'fin asked. "Yes, but we think they're adorable." Mina smiled in delight, clearly reminiscing.

 

"So you think I'm adorable? Even though I'm much bigger than you?" Fuh'fin said with confusion, and his tail whipped a bit in mild frustration. "Actually, you being huge is really satisfying the monkey brain in us," the captain said with amusement. "You are very huggable," the captain said quietly as his uninjured hand quickly typed something on a tablet before setting it down.

 

Huggable? The captain wanted to hug Fuh'fin. No one except other Yimex has ever expressed that desire. It was acceptance of one's nest in Yimex society. Was Fuh'fin accepted? The prospect made him happy. Only the other Yimex accepted Fuh'fin.

 

"So... you aren't scared of me at all?" Fuh'fin said cautiously. "Oh, no, no, no. You look absolutely adorable to us," the captain said while Mina splinted his hand.

 

"Adorable... Huh... I've never been called adorable before," Fuh'fin said softly. Happiness filled him; he was truly accepted then. Without realizing it, he started dooking. "The cuteness aggression is hitting again," the captain said quietly. Mina laughed and nodded her head.

 

Fuh'fin looked at the captain, still dooking. "What's cuteness aggression?" He tilted his head while he spoke. "Something too cute makes our brain produce too much happy chemical, so it confuses the brain and activates the fight or flight reflex," Mina explained simply.

 

Fuh'fin sniffed the air slightly, and as Mina explained, the smell of dopamine was strong in the captain. "Did I cause it?" He asked with mild worry. "Is that why you punched the wall?" Fuh'fin asked the captain.

 

"Yeah, I don't blame you, though," the captain said calmly. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking to pet you or something. I want you to feel comfortable with us," the captain explained. Fuh'fin's nose twitched; that was basically an invitation to their crew... their nest.

 

Fuh'fin rubbed his muzzle against the captain's shoulder. He accepted the invitation as per Yimex standards. He felt the captain's hand hesitate before he pet Fuh'fin's head.

 

"I'm guessing this means you're comfortable with us," the captain said with a quiet laugh. "Yes, I'm comfortable," Fuh'fin said softly, dooking in joy. "We'll tell the crew to keep their hands to themselves until you're comfortable with everyone," the captain said with a smile.

 

~~~

 

The captain was patched up and forced to sit down and relax. Mina had taken it upon herself to finish the tour of the ship. She showed Fuh'fin around and introduced everyone that stopped by to greet him. They all seemed beyond excited when they saw Fuh'fin, but he guessed the captain had already told them not to touch Fuh'fin until he was fully adjusted to everything.

 

Fuh'fin met around half the ship, as Mina told him. He quite liked a tall human woman who went by Vi-Vi. She had bright red hair with yellow tips; it reminded him of a flower on his mother planet, and she smelled of a human fruit, as Vi-Vi told him, strawberries.

 

He liked the smell; it was sweet. Vi-Vi stuck out from everyone else, not because of her hair or height, but because she had a robotic prosthetic arm and paintings on her other arm. She seemed completely different from the crew Fuh'fin met; her energy radiated leadership just like the captain's.

 

Yet she was sweet, just like the scent of strawberries that followed her. She excused herself and left to return to her job. When Vi-Vi left, Mina continued showing him around.

 

Once the tour was done, a ring came from the speakers. "Oh, it's time to go to sleep," Mina said pleasantly. Fuh'fin then noticed he was getting tired as well; it was smart to get into his cot before he just dropped from exhaustion.

 

"Where should I sleep?" Fuh'fin asked with a yawn. "Oh, yeah, let me show you your room," Mina said excitedly. Oh, he had a room. He wasn't used to that; usually he was bunked with a bunch of other crew members in his other jobs. He liked sleeping with others around; it felt safe.

 

Fuh'fin followed Mina with interest. She stopped in front of a door, and it slid open. "I did some research on the Yimex, so your room would be comfortable," Mina said with a smile. "And I read that the Yimex like sleeping in groups, correct?" "Yes, it feels nice," Fuh'fin answered, curious what this was leading to.

 

"We don't have other Yimex on board; instead, we put three other crew members in your room, and we'll give you plenty of blankets and pillows for you to make a comfortable nest," Mina said with a smile. Fuh'fin peeked into the room with mild excitement.

 

"You can move anything around to your comfort," Mina said while she watched Fuh'fin look inside. The room had a weird layout. It had random platforms sticking out of the walls, along with pedestals sticking out of the floor. It looked a bit like a jungle gym, and the floor was cushioned.

 

He walked into the room while looking around. "You can get comfortable anywhere, and we'll get you anything you need," Mina said with a smile as she saw Fuh'fin starting to climb around the pedestals and platforms. She was glad she researched this. Yimex apparently didn't like closed-off spaces but liked running around, so this room was designed with that in mind.

 

Fuh'fin splooted on a platform comfortably and yawned. Mina laughed when she saw his tail wag. "I'll come back with blankets so you can get properly comfortable," she said with a small laugh. Fuh'fin's tail wagged a bit more.

 

Mina came back with what Fuh'fin presumed to be his roommates and blankets. Fuh'fin climbed down to greet them and noticed that Vi-Vi was a part of the group. Mina introduced the other two to Fuh'fin. Matthew, a man with a sly smile and smart eyes. Jenny, a woman with a tired expression but gentle eyes.

 

Fuh'fin greeted them, and Mina gave him a few blankets and pillows. He picked them up with his mouth and climbed up to the spot where he felt comfortable. Mina bid them good night and left. While everyone got comfortable and established their spots, they spoke about random topics.

 

Vi-Vi had climbed on another platform and arranged her pillows and blankets. Matthew picked a small corner the pedestals created—a small, crowded place—yet he seemed pleased... At least Fuh'fin thought he did; Matthew was near impossible to read in comparison to everyone else. Jenny settled underneath one of the platforms; it was the darkest place in the room.

 

Fuh'fin fell asleep while he heard everyone speaking. He couldn't fight sleep at all, so he just crashed. However, he felt comfortable. Everyone was so pleasant; he liked it. He liked this job. He liked being a part of this nest. He hoped they liked him as well.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are weird #Fuh'fin woke up with his translator taken out of his ears and placed to charge #he was very grateful and thanked everyone in his room because no one owned to it #everyone is absolutely in love with Fuh'fin #my son my boy #HASO: The USS Bartholomew

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?

Leads to smut (0u0")

Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!

This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹

A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.

Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 2

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

--

Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.

Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.

His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.

She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.

". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.

He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.

Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.

She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.

She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.

He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.

". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.

Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"

Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.

After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.

"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.

Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.

~Three Days Later~

He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.

His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.

But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.

But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.

Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.

~Y/n pov~

I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.

He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.

He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .

He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.

But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.

He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?

I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.

"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.

I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.

I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.

I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.

Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.

"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.

"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.

He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.

~~~

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.

He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.

"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.

My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.

But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.

His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.

After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.

"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.

He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.

My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.

My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.

It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.

His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."

Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.

_____________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!

#predator x reader #predator x you #predator x human #predator #yautja #yautja x human #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #smutwarning #predator smut #yautja smut #monster fuqqer #monsterfucking cw

[botnasty]

The Missing Link

Pornstar!Bucky Barnes X Director!Reader

Words: 2.2k words

Warnings: Smut (Duh), lill past trauma, but sweet ass bucky.

Note: I am getting rid of some of my draft and this was part of it.

Main Masterlist

“Where is she? She was the one who begged to do a shoot with him!” It was almost chaos in the house you rented. Everyone was ready for today; the cameras were set up, Bucky Barnes, aka The White Wolf as the porn industry calls him, was in the back getting ready with his fluffer. Everything was set and ready, except for his co-star. She was the one who approached you in the first place, Bucky’s manager, to do this shoot with him. She had begged you for months to be able to do a video with him, and the moment it was supposed to happen, she disappeared.

“Did you contact her manager?” asked one of the cameramen. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “Of course I did, John. What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? He says he can’t contact her either. She is completely AWOL.” Your hands were almost shaking. You couldn’t just ask everyone who came; unfortunately, they weren’t needed... And Bucky, you made him come out here on his day off. You couldn’t just tell him it was all for nothing.

“Think, think.” You said to yourself as you kept on pacing in the white hallway that led to the bedroom where the shooting was supposed to happen – hopefully. What did your own manager do when you were a pornstar? You sighed and leaned against the wall. He would have done nothing, since he was a sack of shit who literally stole money from you, which was the reason you left being a porn star to become a manager yourself.

Years ago, being a pornstar was some of the worst times of your life. The lack of respect and regulation in the industry made it hard for anyone to truly enjoy what they did. It was a world where exploitation lurked behind the glamor, where your worth was often measured by your ability to perform on camera rather than your humanity. 

But now, times have changed. The industry has evolved, becoming more professional and respectful of its performers. Your own experiences in the past have shaped the way you approach your current role as a manager. You left behind the world of adult entertainment, partly because of the exploitation you faced, but also because of a manager who took advantage of you, stealing money and betraying your trust.

Despite the challenges you faced, you've found a way to navigate the industry with integrity. Your decision to step back into a role you thought you had left behind speaks to your dedication to ensuring the success of this shoot. You're willing to do what it takes to make sure everything goes smoothly, even if it means revisiting a past you'd rather forget.

“Boss, you okay?” You jumped back to see Bucky out of the room that was assigned to his dressing room. He had no shirt on, only a pair of jeans, which was how he was supposed to be in the scene. “Yeah, all is good, but I think you heard about the problem.”

“She still hasn’t shown up?” He tossed his hair back with his hand. “Well, this complicates things… Maybe I could do a solo shoot? It could be a solution,” he grinned, "because I do not think any random co-star will pop out of nowhere.”

You walked closer to him and looked up into his eyes. “You could, but there is also another solution, only if you are comfortable with it…”

It’s like he knew exactly what you were talking about because his eyes widened. “You would do that? But wasn’t your experience in the past something you told me you never would’ve wanted to do again?”

You looked at the time on your phone. “I know, but it would be necessary. We are on contract, and the agency wants a full video, not just a solo one.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. You trusted Bucky; you knew him ever since he was an amateur in the porn industry, and you knew how he was with all his co-stars. He always tried to make them comfortable, get to know them a little so that when the camera rolled, everything went smoothly.

“You would trust me with that?” He scratched his pec and leaned closer to you as you nodded. “Okay, and I am comfortable doing that with you too, but if at any time, it gets too much, we stop, and I do not care what the agency says. It’s not our fault she didn’t show up.” His eyes went back and forth between yours. “Are we clear?” You wanted to laugh. You were the manager here; you were supposed to be the one comforting and all that, but here he was doing that to you.

“Yeah, big guy, I guess it’s time for me to go get ready. I'll tell everyone it’s almost ‘go’ time. And you,” you pointed at him, “Go back to your fluffer and get ready.” You said with a smile.

He smiled back. “Oh, I do not think I’ll need one for this shoot.”

After the decision is made for you to step in as Bucky's co-star, the atmosphere on set shifts. The initial tension and uncertainty give way to a focused determination to make the best of the situation. As you both prepare for the scene, there's a sense of mutual respect and understanding between you and Bucky, forged through years of working in the industry.

As the cameras start rolling, the room falls into a hushed anticipation, a quiet reverence for the performance about to unfold. You and Bucky stand facing each other, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. The set fades away, and it's just the two of you, locked in a moment that feels both intimate and exhilarating.

Bucky's touch is like fire against your skin, igniting a passion that burns brightly between you. His eyes are intense, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own. Your head is all over the place as to what is about to unfold. You can feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, heightening every sensation, every touch.

"You ready?" Bucky's voice is a low growl, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His fingers start stroking the skin on your arms.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "More than ready."

He grins, “Well then, let’s start this.” He grabbed your head in his big hands and kissed you on the lips. Never in your life would you have ever thought of being on the receiving end of Bucky Barnes. You had always guiltily imagined it: being his co-star. Your arm traveled around his neck as your other hand explored his tone body. He was so firm at all the right places. You wanted to smirk when you heard him growl as you reached lower and lower.

Suddenly, before you could even reach his bulge, he let go of you. “Get on your knees, baby. Come on.” He let you slide down on your knee as he held to your hair. “Get in out for me.”

“I happily will.” You couldn’t help but say. You licked your lips when you saw a glimpse of the head poking out from the top of his boxer. He was so big, you were already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth. 

As you pulled down the boxers, his dick springs out, the tip so red it looked uncomfortable. You placed your hands on his thighs and let a drool of spit land on the tip. It’s so thick you couldn’t help but think. You wrapped your hand around the base and you heard his breath hitch. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were dark with desire. “Fuck my face, big guy.” Was the last thing you said before he took your head in his hands and pushed his dick deep inside your mouth, almost choking you. He must have realized his mistake because he asked you: “If it’s too much, tap my thigh twice.” You never did. 

His dick was so heavy in your mouth, so hot. You had never liked sucking your co-star’s dick before, but his dick was now part of the exception. Hesitantly, he let out a low groan, shutting his eyes tightly as he gripped onto your hair even more tightly. His free hand went instinctively towards his chest- covering his heart that was now racing wildly.”Fucking hell, baby. You have such a wet mouth. It feels so good.”

His head fell back slightly, letting out a shaky exhale." Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. A small smile appeared on his lips though as he opened them again.”Squeeze my balls, baby. Grab them in your hands.” As you did a loud groan left his mouth and he suddenly pulled out.

“I was about to cum, baby. Oh, fuck.” You smirked.

“Oh really? And here I thought the big bad wolf had more in him.” You taunted him. You saw a big smirk appear on his face. “Oh, you asked for it baby.” He grabbed you suddenly, a little gasp leaving your mouth, and threw you on the bed.

“Touch yourself. I want to see what you do when you think of my dick every night.” Slowly you brought your hands to your tits, your fingers twisting your nipples as you looked straight in his eyes. You saw him swallowed thickly, still staring at you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, it’s like he was simply watching  you – taking in every detail of your appearance, committing it to memory.

With one last pinch you brought your hand to your clit, never in your life had you been this wet in a shoot. Always, before, the guy needed to use lube with you, but this time, you could feel some wetness dripping down your thighs and also down your ass. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt pleasure at all.

He got on top of you, hid dick in his hand. "I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby.” He said loud enough for the camera to pick it up, but in your ears he whispered: “You okay?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You smile, a mix of gratitude and admiration in your gaze. "I'm perfect. You're amazing."

He pecked your lips. “I’m gonna put it in…” He slapped his dick twice against your clip, making you jolt with a moan. The tip of his dick gently breached your opening and already you felt full. He was so big. You placed a hand on his lower back and bit on his neck as he went deeper. “OH, fuck. So fucking tight.”

Your hands grabbed whatever you could have he trusted deep inside of you. The wet sound of sex vibrating in the air, as he kept going. He growled. “I fucking love your pussy.” He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer as he went on his knees. “How come you hid this from me, huh?” You could feel all the ridges of his dick, how veiny it was and the tip always brushing your sweet spot inside in this position. 

You grabbed one of his hands and tried to bring it to your clit. “Please, please, please.” Once he understood, he started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he forced his dic depper in you. Everything was too much.

You let out a moan and tossed your head back, your legs were shaking all over the place. “I can feel you tightening, baby. Are you gonna cum like a good slut on my dick? You are, aren't you.” You tried to nod, but to no avail. Your body was just completely shaking, before you let out a loud moan and you felt your pussy tighten around him. Somehow this was enough to make Bucky Barnes, the man you knew could last for hours, to cum in you. He groaned and moaned as he kept on doing little thrust in you, making all of his cum pooling inside of you just as he fell down on you. Both sweaty bodies against each other and heavy breath mingling.

The room seems to pulse with a shared energy, a connection between you and Bucky that transcends the physical. When the director finally calls "cut," there's a moment of stillness, as if everyone is caught in the spell you've woven.

"You were incredible," Bucky says, his voice filled with genuine admiration and he kissed your cheek. "I couldn't have asked for a better co-star. Maybe we should do this again sometime"

You smile, feeling a sense of pride wash over you, a sense of reborn. "You weren't so bad yourself.”

Thank you so much for reading! PLease do not hesitate to let me know what y'all think:)

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan characters #sebastian #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #modern au #au #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #winter soldier

[pinguwrites]

Our True Nature | Tom Buckley

Pairing -> dom!tom buckley x student!psychic!reader

Summary -> You're different, you always have been; you've know that ever since you were a little kid who made your toys float in the air. Despite your great abilities you've pursued a rather humble life, looking for others like you. Your search comes to an end when you realize that your professor's assistant, Tom Buckley — the one you've been harboring a secret crush on — is a psychic, just like you.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dom!Tom and sub!reader, age-gap (not specified, but reader is college-aged), praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, um superpower play??? telekinesis play??? I don't know what that shit's called, overstimulation, mild breeding kink, tom is wild and says dirty stuff, weird magic lore I made up (you can trust me, I used to write fantasy), mild hamilton reference ig, rough sex but not much emphasis on it

Disclaimer: Red Lights characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

When you first saw him it was like the world around you stopped. The rain that had been pouring down like a storm the entire day ceased its brutal assault, and in that week of dull weather and gray skies, the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds and cast a heavenly glow around his body.

He looked like an angel. Dark hair caressed by sunlight, eyes as pale blue as a glacier, and the most handsome face you’d ever seen. It was all right there, across the parking lot of the university, just waiting to be seen. A god amongst humans, a flower in a field of grass.

But then the moment passed. He walked away, without any word or acknowledgment, like he never even saw you at all. It wasn’t until later on did you realize who this man was — Tom Buckley, your new professor’s assistant.

You supposed that was when the attraction started. You tried to kid yourself and say that it was actually halfway through the year when he started offering private study sessions, or when he made it a point to greet you good morning every day, or even when he insisted you call him Tom, but you knew the truth. You had fallen for him the second you saw him but were only too ashamed to admit it.

A god amongst humans.

It was a silly phrase you used to describe him. He wasn’t a god. Not even close to one. He was nothing like you. He couldn’t see visions of the future, or make a door open and close at his whim. He was just a person, a person you had a silly, undeniable crush on. A person you could not stop staring at.

He was currently leading the lesson today, showcasing a video on how a fake psychic used tricks behind the scenes to fool her audience, but you weren’t paying attention at all. Your chin was resting in your hand, and your gaze was upon Tom like he was the only thing that mattered.

You could barely see him in the poor lighting. The best you got was a figure and a shadow on the projection, but that didn’t deter you at all. All you wanted was to observe him, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way his hands would gesture as he explained the concepts students didn’t understand.

He seemed to notice your blatant staring, because after the video ended and he turned the lights back on, his eyes locked with yours, and he did what he always did: made you stay behind after class.

“Is something wrong?” you asked. It was a routine question. When the students got up to leave you would approach his desk, feigning confusion, waiting for him to say, ‘No, nothing, I just wanted to look over the assignment with you.’

You were sure your friends thought you were dumb. Why else would you need extra help all the time? but that was a much better assumption than the idea that you were fucking Mr. Buckley, so you never bothered correcting them.

“No, nothing, I just . . . ” Tom started but then trailed off. From this distance, you could properly admire the light freckles scattered across his pale face and took a moment to save the image in your head. When he continued, your attention snapped back. “I have a couple of questions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to my office.” He looked a little nervous for some reason. The walk to his office was spent trying to deduce why. Maybe something was wrong this time.

You sat down on one of the chairs by his desk. His room was filled with all sorts of odd things, namely technology used to disprove — or prove — paranormal activity. Occasionally, this material would be showcased in class, and he and Matheson would do replicas of former encounters to demonstrate how they worked.

You always paid very close attention to those days, in case you ever need the information in the future. How to Evade Ghost Hunters 101!

“What is it? Have I really done something wrong this time?” you joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He laughed. A beautiful smile.

“Of course not, you’re my star student.” Your heart warmed at that. “I just wanted to test some things out with you. For the curriculum, Dr. Matheson and I were considering adding it to the course, and we want your opinion.”

You nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

“Good.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a tarot card pack.

“We want to do a lesson on how pictures and symbolism can be manipulated to fit the victim’s life,” he said, shuffling the deck. “Tarot cards are so vague and general — The Fool, for example, represents new beginnings and adventure. Is that not the foundation of everyone’s life? To explore, to be inexperienced?”

You agreed. “And how are you planning on presenting this to the class? Give out a tarot reading to everyone?”

Tom chuckled. “I just want to try it out with you, to prove it.”

He held out the cards for you to pick, but you stopped him. “Aren’t I supposed to tell you what I want to know?”

There was a brief silence, and if you looked carefully, you could see a light pink tinge glaze over his cheeks, and his breathing hitch ever so slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“Don’t worry. Whatever you want to know about me,” you offered, amused at his reaction. “Tell me, what are you looking for?”

“I want to know your secrets,” he admitted. “I want to know what you’re hiding.”

“You’ll be disappointed. There’s nothing interesting about me.”

“We’ll see.”

You picked three cards and placed them down on the table. Each representative of either the past, present, or future, or at least, that’s how you were assuming he was doing the reading.

He turned the first card. It was The Star, reversed. 

“Something in the past was bothering you,” he said. “You felt hopeless, like you had no more motivation . . . Am I right in guessing it was the result of something specific?”

“Yes,” you said. Obviously, his reading wasn’t true, how could it be? he wasn’t like you, but he was definitely right about the way people manipulated the symbolism. You doubted he knew the real reason why you had been so depressed.

He flipped over the next card. The Lovers. 

He grinned. “I’m sure you can guess what this means. Are you in a relationship?”

You shook your head.

“Then it’s about a potential someone. You’ll find your complimentary, someone you can balance with — it could be platonic, or romantic, but no matter the type of relationship, they’ll be loving, and supportive.”

You looked into his eyes before returning your attention back down to the cards. Oh, how you wished it was him. 

He turned the last card.

“The Ten of Cups. Your desires will be fulfilled. You’ll be happy, whatever problems you had in the past will be resolved.”

It was silent for a moment. You expected him to ask you questions of how accurate it was, and how quickly you connected his predictions to events in your life, but he didn’t.

“Do you believe in magic?” he asked bluntly. “The supernatural? You either do or you don’t, I can’t imagine you’d be wasting your time in this class if your opinion was neutral.”

You felt like you’d been put right on the spot. You thought about the right way to answer. “I believe in it, in the sense that I’m open about what we don’t know, and am optimistic about all the possibilities.”

He all but rolled his eyes. “C’mon. That was so wordy. I want to hear the truth.”

He leaned in closer. Your faces were inches apart, and you could feel his minty breath on your face. 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I believe in magic.”

He pulled away, satisfied. “I believe in magic, too.”

You quirked an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? Have you ever seen it in action?”

“Maybe,” he answered vaguely, a grin on his face. “Let me see your palm.”

You wanted to laugh, but you yourself was very eager to comply with his demands, not because you thought the experiments were interesting, but rather you enjoyed spending time with him, and the prospect of him touching you—even though it was only your hand—was thrilling.

Tom caressed the lines on your palms. He was distracted by it.

You weren’t sure what it was about him that made you so drawn. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, it was only something based on lust and looks, but this was more. You didn’t just like him, you found him utterly attractive, in a way that surpassed physicality.

It certainly wasn’t his personality. You thought you two were compatible in mentality, and you got along well, but he was rather boring. He wasn’t fiery nor exciting, nothing that could take you off guard or pique your curiosity. 

He was intelligent. He told you he used to study physics, something you just had to respect him for, but you didn’t know that until just recently, and it’s not like his day-to-day actions showcased his genius. 

You really didn’t know what it was, and a part of not knowing made it all the more mysterious. But it also made you feel vulnerable. In less than a year, you had become so hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with someone. He could do anything and you wouldn’t blink an eye. He had so much power over you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Can you feel it?” he asked softly, looking up at you.

You pulled your hand away, too flustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took your hand again, unrelenting. He gripped it tighter, encasing it in his warmth. It felt so nice.

“Between us,” he clarified, his voice low. He was gazing at you intently.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you like me?” he asked, his tone almost desperate. “I see you do things, impossible things. When you drop a pencil in class it floats back up to your hand, when your coffee gets too cold I see you wrap your hand around the cup and make it bubble. No one else notices, but I do. I see it.”

You froze, or rather, your mind was instantly filled with so many thoughts you couldn’t comprehend them all at once. 

You thought you were careful with your abilities because up until now, no one had caught you. Not since you were a teenager who copied off others during a test, not since you got your first car and put it on autopilot so you could sleep during a drive, not even since you were a little girl who was too lazy to tie her own braid at school. 

“T-Tom,” you stuttered. “I don’t . . .”

And what was that he said about being like him? Was he implying that he could do these things too? That after all these years of searching, you’d finally found another psychic?

Tom’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what I was saying. Just forget it.”

He cleared his throat. You still didn’t say anything. It was like someone had pressed a mute button and you couldn’t speak, no matter how badly you wanted to say something.

“You should go,” he suggested. “Thank you, for all the help.”

He stood up, and you did too, mirroring his actions. He lead you over to the exit. “Have a nice day, I look forward to seeing you in class next week.”

You turned around, not wanting to leave yet. “Tom . . .”

He was about to close the door when you stopped it with your foot, budged it open, and leapt into his arms, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All that you knew was that you wanted him. Badly. As you pushed your way back inside the room, you feared for a moment that he was going to shove you off, tell you he didn’t mean it like that, but he didn’t. He pulled you inside and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and sat you on top of his desk, returning the kiss with even more intensity.

“Tom,” you all but moaned. You felt confused and dazed, but with the way Tom was nibbling at your neck, sucking and licking, you could tell he wasn’t in the same boat as you. You relaxed, letting everything go. You could let him take care of this—whatever this was. Let him take care of you.

“Can I take it off?” he asked in between kisses. He tugged at your shirt, fingers hovering above the buttons.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Please, please, please—”

The buttons unbuttoned themselves. You gasped a little in surprise as your shirt was tossed to the side. That was all the confirmation you needed—Tom Buckley was just like you. 

The realization that you had finally found another was lost when he started kneading your breasts through your bra. “Such a needy girl,” he cooed. “Didn’t know she could get like that. Doesn’t want to answer my questions but needs me to please her.”

“Fuck,” you let out, surprised at the dirty talk, but pleased nonetheless. “I just want you.”

“I know you do. Staring at me like a piece of meat in class. That’s all I am to you, hmm? Just a hot teacher to fuck. You tell your little friends about me?”

“No!” You whined when his hands went underneath your bra and pinched your nipple. “Ow! I’ve never told anyone.”

“Ah, I knew you were a good girl.”

You whined again and nuzzled your head in the crook of his shoulder, not wanting him to see how flustered he was making you. 

“Pretty girl,” he murmured, unclasping your bra, watching your breasts fall out. “Beautiful girl . . . Can I suck?”

“Yes!” you said impatiently. You found it sexy that he kept asking for permission, but also annoying—he needed to get straight to the point, and stop teasing you.

He latched his lip onto your hard nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, occasionally nipping on it. While his mouth was occupied, his hands were roaming your body, up to your face and down to as far as he could reach, which while you were sitting down, was all the way to your ankles.

He switched nipples and went to your other breast, making you release a sigh of satisfaction. He eventually let go and gave you another kiss, his tongue slipping inside.

You looked down. He was hard, subtly trying to grind himself between your legs. “Mmm,” he moaned against your lips. 

His moan was wonderful. If not for your own pleasure, you wanted to continue this just so you could elicit another sound out of him.

In a bold move, you reached down and squeezed his crotch. He let out a sound, more strangled this time, and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you both.

He placed his hand over the hand that was palming his cock, encouraging you to keep going, with eyes shut and nose scrunched up. He then moved it to lean on your shoulders.

“Do you like it rough or vanilla?” he asked. “I can do both.”

You tried to hide your grin. “Rough.”

He knew that by saying that you didn’t want it completely that way. The actions, yes, but you still wanted to hear him praise you, to caress you, to whisper sweet things in your ear.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He picked you — handsome and strong — and laid you down on the couch. It wasn’t that large, but at least it was more comfortable than his desk, and you didn’t want to wait any longer by going to his place or yours.

“I want to let you know,” he started seriously, “that this isn’t a, uh, one-night stand. I don’t want that, not from you.”

“I don’t want that either,” you said. 

“And I don't do this often. Well, I don't do this at all. With other students, I mean. You’re the first. I don’t want you to think that I’m just, how do you say it? playing you?”

You giggled. He didn’t seem like the playboy type at all. In fact, when most men and women flirted with him, he usually got all uncomfortable and quiet, a fact that boosted your ego, as he never felt that way around you.

“This is serious for me, too. Let’s keep it a secret until this semester is over. And when I’m out of your class we can make it public, okay?”

He nodded, and leaned down to kiss you again, soft and delicate. 

“Take off your shirt,” you demanded.

He smiled at your behavior. It took a minute, because he was wearing his suit, but he managed to get it off with your help. You didn’t want to damage his clothing, it was probably on the more expensive side, and he looked so exquisite in it. 

You admired his chest. He was lean, but you could still see some faint muscles. After all, he had carried you to the couch. He was perfect. It was just what you had hoped for.

This moment didn’t feel real. How was it that you had gotten so lucky? You were here with the man of your dreams, in his arms, and you were about to make love. 

“Get on your knees.”

You did as he asked. You had done this a couple times before, so you weren’t really worried. You could even take cock all the way in, but when you saw his size, you gulped.

He guided your face to it. You licked the tip to the base to the balls, wondering how you were going to make it fit. You reasoned with yourself that if you couldn’t you could just use your hands for the rest.

That was, until he slid his cock inside your mouth and pushed it as far as he could. You controlled your gag reflex and started bobbing your head up and down, the sensation causing your eyes to tear, but not in pain. 

He wiped them away. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t say anything, not with your mouth filled. You showed your answer by sucking him, fondling his balls, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes.

“Ohhh, you take it so well. So well.”

He pushed your head all the way down, keeping it there for a few seconds. You breathed in through your nose, trying to keep yourself under control whilst still making the experience pleasurable for him. He seemed to like it, with the way he was rolling his hips against your mouth, even though there was nothing left to fit inside. 

Then, suddenly, you felt something rubbing your clit through your pants. You tried to pull off of Tom, concerned at what it might be, when you realized it was him. He was the one doing it, making you feel this way. 

He kept your head in place, a pleased smile on his face. “Like that?”

You moaned. You couldn’t concentrate on him, not when your body was being pleasured so good. How much practice had he had with his abilities? How could he focus when you were going down on him? It was probably the age. He wasn’t that much older than you, but he was older, and surely that came with more practice. 

He pulled you off of him after a few minutes of you squirming and gagging, placing you down on the couch. He made sure your head was in a comfortable position before taking off your pants and pulling out his cock. Your pussy was still being rubbed, by whatever invisible force he was using, and it was about to make you come.

“I—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he shushed, pressing his cock at your entrance. 

“Let me make you—”

“No,” he growled. “I’m going to come inside of you. Don’t think, just let your professor handle it.”

You knew he wasn’t technically your professor. He was just the TA, but it was still sexy to hear him say that. It reminded you of your student-teacher relationship, the forbiddeness of it all. 

You came just as his cock slid in. He sighed, feeling your pussy flutter and your cream leak out on him. He looked down, taking in the view, before pulling his cock out and slamming it back in, taking you off guard. 

His pace was unrelenting. You didn’t know he could be so animalistic. He was panting and groaning in your ear, holding your body in place even though you weren’t going anywhere. He was still rubbing your clit — technically — but you didn't mind. You could take another orgasm.  Besides, you weren’t sure if he would stop even if you asked. He looked so blissed out, like he was in another world, the only thing driving him his primal instinct.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he said, increasing the intensity of his pace. The couch was now shuffling a little, moving forward a little bit each time, but Tom didn’t seem to notice. “You need it so bad. Just want me to take care of you, yeah?”

“Yes,” you cried out, rather pathetically. It was crazy to think how submissive this man could make you. You had never been like this with any of your other partners, but with him, you felt safe, like you trust him with anything.

“I can imagine — you in class, giving me one of those eyes you always do. Fuck — the other students don’t suspect a thing, but both you and I know that I’ll have you over my desk by evening.”

The thought alone made your mind whirl.

“I should fill your panties with my cum, make you walk around in it,” he said. That shouldn’t have aroused you as much as it did. He noticed your reaction. “Oh, you enjoy hearing me say those things? Those depraved, dirty things.”

He hit that spot in you, the one that made you go crazy, and you cried out, clutching his shoulders.

“There it is,” he said, mostly to himself, as he kept ramming that spot over and over again. The added sensations made you go limp in his arms. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach, the one that told you you were going to orgasm again.

You threw your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you came, but your peace of mind didn’t last long. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look back at him, beating that same spot again, all while continuing the assault on your clit. “Look at me, I want to see your face.”

You looked right into his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and you could tell an orgasm was coming for him, too.

You felt a little ashamed that in such a short time he had made you come twice, and you hadn’t at all — at least, not yet — but like he said before, he didn’t want you to think, so you didn’t, and let whatever thoughts you had left bouncing around in your head leave.

“You’re wonderful,” he praised, kissing you again. He couldn’t get enough of it. Your teeth clashed briefly, but neither of your cared. He just wanted to taste you. “I can’t wait to be with you.”

With that, he came inside, filling you up to the brim with his hot seed. He kept his cock in, holding your hips in place, until he was satisfied and pulled out.

He laid on top of you on the couch, caressing the side of your cheek as you both recovered and took your breath. 

It was silent. Just the two of you, in his office. You had finally found the one. The one you were sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with, all happy and in love like a fairytale.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t think I’d ever find another,” you finally said.

“I didn’t either. I’m glad it was you. I’m glad it’s you I get to share this with.”

“Hey, what was with the cards? Were you just testing me?”

“Yeah.” He turned to face you. “I wasn’t sure if I was just seeing things. I mean, you get up so early and go to work, sometimes you just imagine a kid opening a door on its own or playing tricks with her assignments. I had to be sure.”

“So, you weren’t intending to tell my future?”

“You can’t actually do that,” he said.

“Yes you can.”

He blinked, surprised. 

“I know you said the interpretation is very broad, but it still works.”

“You can actually tell the future?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be with Tarot cards only. But whatever methods, I don’t do it often, I feel like it messes with things. But sometimes I just get these images in my head, and I can’t stop it.”

It hadnt occurred to you that even though you were both psychic, your powers, or at least, the direction you went with them, were different.

“If you weren’t reading my future, what were you doing?”

“I noticed that objects imbued with magic, especially artifacts, radiated energy—a feeling, one that only I could sense. If I gave the same impression on those cards, and you happened to pick them, it would either be a huge coincidence or it would mean you were drawn to them, albeit unknowingly. It was just something to give me more confidence.”

You weren’t aware that was something a person could do. You supposed there were plenty of things you didn’t know. You were looking forward to learning from him, and teaching him as well. You were both in uncharted waters, not knowing where this would lead you both. But it was okay, as long as you had him by your side.

You did worry a little that this intense connection you felt with him was only in an otherworldly sense, that you fell for him because of this magic, but you shook the thought away. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t let it be true. You loved him and he loved you—and that was it. Nothing more. 

“I can do another round,” he said suddenly. “You?”

You grinned and nodded. “Yeah. But this time, I want to ride you.”

He laughed and flipped you both over so that you were on top of him. “Show me how you get off, babygirl.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

#pinguwrites #tom buckley #tom buckley x reader #tom buckley x y/n #tom buckley x you #cillian murphy #red lights #fanfiction

[pedritomosquito]

All Choked Up (Ch 1)

MINORS DNI

Summary: You're shooting a fight scene with Pedro that involves choking--you know where this is going.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: ~4.1k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, thigh riding, choking, handy, general steaminess

You had been called in for more shooting after working for a month on The Last of Us as various clickers. You were going to be doing another fight scene, but this time as your normal human self. Wardrobe had just finished with you and one of the PA’s was escorting you to set to be approved by Craig and Jeremy. It looked like they were in between takes of a scene with Joel and Ellie. Pedro and Bella were both sitting on set pieces, laughing and sipping at water. 

Craig and Jeremy are crowded around a monitor with several other producers watching the latest take. The PA introduces you and suddenly all of them turn around, examining you. Craig greets you.

“Great to see you again! Thank you for joining us.”

You have to hold in a laugh, because ‘thank you for joining us’? As if you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into fucking LA traffic to be here?

“Thank you for having me,” you smile instead.

At the sound of your voice, you see Pedro perk up out of the corner of your eye. You pretend not to notice his gaze.

“This looks great,” Craig approves. “Can I see it without the scarf?”

The PA unties your neck gaiter.

“Yes, perfect,” He nods. “Thank you Jennifer,” He dismisses the PA and sends you on your way, “See you on set!” 

Interesting costuming detail for Craig to be so particular about, but whatever. The PA starts to usher you back towards the wardrobe department.

You hear Bella call your name and you turn, giving them a happy wave. Pedro gives you a wave too. 

“Tomorrow–You, me?”” You playfully point between him and yourself, “we’re squarin’ up!”

“No way!” Pedro replies, looking dare you say excited to hear the news that you’d be working together.

“See you at rehearsal!” You call as you slip out the door.

—--

The next day you have stunt choreography for the fight scene in the evening. You dress in a cute matching Lululemon knock off set and report to the rehearsal studio on the lot. The three stunt coordinators are there to greet you and you stretch out until Pedro arrives.

He’s in a tight workout t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Not the gray sweatpants dear LORD.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” one of the coordinators teases, “And ten minutes late, no less!”

“Fuck off, Phillip,” Pedro laughs as he approached, “I’m old and I’m tired.”

“That’s your excuse every day,” You prod.

“Well it’s true every day,” Pedro complains. 

“Ready to beat the shit out of each other?” You smirk.

His laugh makes your stomach flip flop.

“Absolutely.”

The stunt coordinators demonstrate the choreography first and you have to make sure your jaw doesn’t hit the floor.

Your character stands yielding a prop knife and his character rushes at you, grabbing your arms. You struggle like that for a beat before the knife gets knocked out of your hands. He keeps his grip on one of your arms as he punches you across the face, then shoves you back up against the wall. Both of his hands come up to your neck and you fight against him until you pass out and he drops you on the floor.

You have always been on your best behavior around Pedro. The poor guy has women thirsting after him at every turn and you don’t want to add to his suffering. You have your own private thoughts about him–many of them not PG rated. But you are there to do a job, to be a professional. You never really allow yourself to entertain any of those thoughts beyond simple fantasy.

But he is about to choke you against a wall.

That alone has you entertaining several new thoughts.

“Alright, how do you guys feel about that?” Phillip asks.

Pedro just nods with a small “great.” He does this stuff pretty much every day so you’re sure none of it phases him.

Phillip looks to you and you must be a bit too wide eyed.

“You look a little uncomfortable,” Phillip notes kindly, inviting you to speak.

Pedro’s concerned expression knocks the wind out of you.

“No, no,” You assure them, “It just looks amazing and I’m hoping I wasn’t padding my resume when I said I had stage combat experience.” You give a little giggle to sell it and god bless being an actor because they all buy it.

“No worries, you definitely got this,” Phillip assures you.

Phillip had not been lying–you pick up the sequence just fine. When it comes time to run the fight with Pedro, you are feeling confident about the choreography but not much else. You mark through it, slowly going through each motion to practice. 

You’re pretty sure you black out when he slides his hands under your chin. He is slow and careful and he barely even makes contact with your throat but just the idea, the notion that he could so easily, makes your insides scream.

He eyes you closely making sure you are okay. You feel safe. Somehow that makes it even worse. 

You go through some notes and run it one more time slowly before kicking it up to full speed. 

The intensity of doing it in real time causes an adrenaline storm. Pedro’s hands are all over you, all power and tight gripped. You desperately hold it together so you won't forget what you’re doing.

The way your back hits the padded wall forces the air from your lungs. Before you can even get a breath in, Pedro’s inches away from your face, hands around your neck. Heat spreads across your cheeks all the way down to your chest. You are sure the shock is written all over your face and you swear Pedro’s eyebrows furrow just a fraction. You take the moment of embarrassment as a good cue to drop to the floor out of his grip. 

“That looked great!” Phillip approves, “How did that feel?”

You nearly choke on your spit at the question. 

“Good,” you manage to squeak. 

You catch Pedro side eyeing you and force yourself to look anywhere else. You bend over and fiddle with your shoelace out of sheer desperation to hide your face. 

“Yeah,” Pedro echoes, “Good.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and want to leap out the window. 

“Alright, let’s go full out this time,” Phillip says, “Add the acting, the drama, I want it all. Let’s take it from the line before so we can get the timing down.”

You and Pedro square up, getting into position.

“I’m not going down easy,” You play with a quirked eyebrow.

“Bring it,” He challenges.

You both slip into character and you raise your knife.

—-

“Great work, guys!” Phillip chimes, “See you on set tomorrow.”

“You drive here?” Pedro’s voice appears next to you. 

“Yep,” You reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and pushing open the door. The cool night air glides a chill down your arms. 

“Let me walk you to your car,” He offers, “ I just need to grab my stuff.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, that’d be—that’d be great,” You stumble over the words with a smile. 

It’s a short walk to his trailer

“What’s been your favorite project you’ve worked on?” He asks. 

“I always thought it couldn’t get any better than Mandalorian but honestly I think this show might be my new favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, everything on this show feels so… real. Mando was all soundstages and green screens. Last of Us really feels like we’ve been dropped into an apocalypse,” You explain before cautiously adding, “And I’ve gotten to work with you a lot more.”

“You like working with me, huh?” Pedro asks as he playfully bumps his shoulder into yours, the shadow of a teasing tone in his voice. 

You can’t find words for a moment, pausing with your mouth parted. You might as well put all your cards on the table. “Yes,” you finally reply with a small laugh, “I do.” 

You can safely toe the boundary of friendship here. You figure he wouldn’t read into it if he wasn’t interested.

Wait. Are you interested? Oh fuck. Of course you’re interested.

Pedro pauses for a fraction of a moment as you arrive at the trailer, looking at you. Before you can say anything, he pulls open the door and holds it for you. You climb inside and he brushes past you as he enters.

“When you showed up here on set,” He says, “I was really happy to see you again.” He sits down on the cream colored loveseat. 

So he isn’t just ‘grabbing his stuff’ after all, you guess.

You join him, trying to remember how to sit like a normal human being.

“I thought you were lying when you said you remembered me,” you reply honestly. 

“God no,” Pedro chuckles. His gaze on you intensifies, flitting down your body for a moment, his voice dropping a bit lower. “Couldn’t forget you if I tried, sweetheart.”

You suck in a quiet breath. Your mind begins to swim in the suddenly thickening air. How has he managed to make himself so clear in just a single uttered sentence?

He seems to search your face. You realize he’s looking for reciprocation . This isn’t the time to toe the limit at all–it’s the time to cross the line entirely. 

The line between colleagues is drawn for good reason, you try to remind yourself. But all logic dissolves in the simmering heat of how he watches you from the other end of the couch. 

Fuck the line. What line? Never heard of one. 

You switch on a new part of yourself, cocking your head.

“You aren’t too forgettable yourself,” You reply with a soft smirk, making sure to regard every inch of him. 

That is all it takes from him to start closing the gap between you, stopping just inches away. He reaches out and slides your bag off your shoulder in slow motion. You stay frozen as it thuds to the floor. The way his eyes never leave you makes your breathing pick up. 

“You can leave right now, I won’t hold it against you,” He says quietly, “We can go back to before and I will never try this again.”

You can’t imagine a worse fate. You shake your head desperately. 

“Tell me you want this,” he says, eyes glued to yours.

“I want you ,” You whisper.

His lips easily find yours as you feel a hand lace into your hair and another around your waist. The softness of his lips makes you forget to set yourself into motion, too busy melting into it. You finally remember to reach for him, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the side of his neck. You splay your fingers over his bare skin, brushing a thumb against the stubble on his jaw.

His fingers graze over your scalp as he gently grips a handful of your hair. It makes your jaw fall open and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth. You grab a fistful of his shirt to pull him closer. 

His hand travels up the center of your chest, curving over your collarbone and back down your side. 

He is either being a tease or far too respectful. 

You take his wrist and guide him to the bottom hem of your tank top, sliding his hand underneath until his fingers come to the elastic of your sports bra. You pull the spandex up out of the way. 

His fingertips skate lightly over the bare skin before he cups you, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

You whine against his mouth, arching into his touch. Your head tips back and he kisses down your neck before returning to your mouth. His lips become more insistent, the pressure of his hands roaming your body more firm. You shift to pull your leg up under you on the couch, needing to get closer to him. He untangles his hand from your hair and does you one better, reaching down, grabbing your ass and pulling you into his lap until he has you hovering over him, his knee between yours. 

You pull off your tank top and your sports bra. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” Pedro murmurs breathlessly as he attaches his mouth to your nipple.

“Fuck,” The word punches out of you and your hands fly into his hair. His mouth is all heat, tongue working in circles and flicks. You imagine his face between your legs doing the same and you shudder at the mere thought.

He grabs your hips and speaks against the skin of your chest.

“Sit.” 

He pulls you down firmly onto his thigh. 

“Good girl.”

A gasp helplessly escapes your lips and he has you all figured out. He fails to suppress a smirk and you have half the mind to admonish him, but any attempt is interrupted by his mouth returning to your tit.  

He guides your hips to grind against him. The feeling of your wet leggings sliding over his sweatpants drags against your clit just right. You whimper against his temple. He tugs your hips forward again as he flexes his thigh into you and your whimper becomes open mouthed, a moan buried in his hair.

Your hips start to roll on their own accord, chasing down the friction.

“That’s it,” He says softly, licking up your chest, “Make yourself feel good, pretty girl.”

You let out a stilted sigh, dropping your head and sucking the skin beneath his jaw. You reach your hand down and press over the crotch of his sweats. You inhale sharply when you feel him already hard underneath your palm.

“You know how hard it was to control myself, hm?” He questions, voice strained as he pushes himself up against your hand, “Keeping everyone from seeing how much I loved having you pinned up against that wall?”

“ God , that was good acting,” you moan.

“Yours needs some work,” he taunts, “‘Could see it all over your face, querida. Bet you were wet for me, weren’t you?”

“Whole time,” you nod desperately. 

He drags his fingers up your chest and wraps his hand around your throat. 

“Oh fuck,” tumbles from your mouth. 

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? My hand wrapped around your throat like this?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Fuck, keep talking,” you beg, moving faster in his lap. 

“You like the sound of my voice, huh?” He prods, “Like it when I tell you how good you are while you fuck yourself on my thigh?”

You only nod with a whine, reaching under his waistband and taking his cock in your hand. You nearly whine again when you feel how thick he is. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening just a bit around your throat. 

The squeak he receives from you in response is equal parts innocent and filthy. 

He uses his free hand to shove his pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his cock in your fist. 

You pump him slowly, watching the precum leak from his slit. You release him, pausing your own movement to dip your hand into your panties. You slide two fingers into yourself, gathering your wetness, and return to his length.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, his words trapped in the back of his throat as you wrap your slick hand around him. His hand tightens on your neck and he thrusts up into your hand, jolting you back into your own rhythm. 

Your free hand is slipped under the neckline of his shirt, placed on his chest to steady yourself. The skin there is firm and radiating heat. You can feel his heart beating as fast as yours against your palm.

“You gonna cum like this?” He asks, “Such a needy girl, making a mess on my thigh?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, god yes,” you babble. You’d say yes to practically anything he could ask of you right now, anything to stay in this moment.

Every word he speaks, every shift in his touch drives your fist around him faster.

“ Fuck you feel so good,” He says through gritted teeth, hand now trailing down your throat, curling his fingers to skim his nails over your delicate skin, “Doing so good for me.”

“Please, please, Pedro–” you blindly plead.

He squeezes his hand, tightening the grip on your neck. It’s hardly enough to affect your breathing, but it fuels the tension growing in your hips all the same. Your motions begin to stutter.

“That’s it, querida,” He hums, “That’s it.” 

“I’m gonna–” your stutter, “I’m gonna cum.”

He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and every bit of air deserts your lungs.

“I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

Pure heat sparks and sets you ablaze, flames rolling down your body as you cum, cries forced from you.  

“ Good girl , there it is. That’s a good girl,” He grinds out the words, pushing himself harder up into your fist. “Fuck, that’s it, fuck ,” A strangled noise catches in his throat, stripes of white painting your hand and his shirt as you ride out your high.

You lean forward to collapse against him, pressing your head to his shoulder, and you both try to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, fingers absently tracing over you back.

“Thank you,” you sigh.

“ Thank you ?” He nearly giggles, “Jesus Christ, all I did was sit here!”

“Then you’re welcome,” you breathe, “Like, very, incredibly, definitely welcome literally any time.”

His laughter bounces against your chest. 

“Don’t go making offers that are too good to be true, now,” he warns, and you can feel his grin against the side of your neck, “I can’t take the heartbreak.”

So you’re not the only one who wants this to be more than a one time thing. Fuck yeah. 

“Any. Time.” You repeat, whispering in his ear. 

——-

Coco is setting up her station next to Stephanie and Jess for the afternoon. The hair and make up department is an integral part of The Last of Us because of the extensive clicker-fication process. Coco always jokes with Pedro that she has the easiest job out of everyone–make a man, who is already gorgeous, gorgeous. Not much to do there, just upkeep on Pedro’s gray hair and ensuring he’s grimy enough for an apocalypse. 

You walk into the room bundled in a scarf and find Jess’s chair, greeting her. You had never met before and you were a little nervous. Coco, on the other hand, you’d talked to a few times. 

“Okay, so, I might have screwed up a little ,” You admit to Jess, immediately piquing the curiosity of the women around you. You were about to make Jess’s job a bit harder. 

“Oh?” Jess says. 

“So, um, I get uh–strangled, in the scene we’re shooting today so there’s going to be a lot of focus on… my neck…” You preface hesitantly.

Coco whirls around.

“You didn’t,” She gasps, scandalized.

You grimace apologetically as you unwrap your scarf.

“I did.”

There’s no way they could possibly know that Pedro put the hickey blooming dark purple on your throat unless they’re mind readers, but still. You’re paranoid that somehow everyone will know what you did last night with Pedro. 

Could see it all over your face, querida.

“You have girl bossed too close to the sun,” Coco shakes her head while Jess and Stephanie giggle.

You cover your face with your hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess laughs, “You’re hardly the first actor to need some hickey cover up. Happens all the time–we’ll get you fixed up.”

Jess does an excellent job as promised and your neck looks pristine.

You thank her endlessly and slip out the door to go to wardrobe.

Just a moment later, Pedro speeds into hair and make-up, greeting Coco and plopping down in her chair.

“I need a bruise covered up,” he says simply. 

“How’d you hurt yourself this time, old man?” Coco asks.

“Uh, it’s not exactly that kind of bruise,” he replies sheepishly. He pulls down the turtle neck he’s wearing, revealing the hickeys he’s sporting up his neck. 

Coco, Stephanie and Jess all exchange a look. Stephanie is desperately trying to suppress a smirk and Jess has to turn away to contain herself. 

You and Pedro are none the wiser that you’re totally busted. 

“ Pedro ,” Coco scolds him playfully. 

“I know, I know,” he sighs. 

“Pass me that concealer, Jess?” Coco asks, “We’d better get started. This might take a while since someone decided to sell his body last night.”

“Oh shut up,” Pedro waved her off with a bashful chuckle, “Vete a la chingada.”

“Pedge, I’m immune to your spanish insults. I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Allow me to translate: fuck. off.”

“Never.”

—————-

You're sitting on the sidelines of the set, absently going over your script and blocking. 

“Hello you,” a low voice rings next to you. 

A smile climbs onto your lips and you keep your attention on the pages. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you chime.

“Come here often?” 

You giggle, finally looking up at him, but your breath is stolen. God , he looked so good as Joel. 

“Querida, your face,” he chuckles, “we talked about this.”

You pause for a moment and realize what he’s implying. You must be blushing. Or drooling. 

“I have no idea how I have an acting career,” you murmur.  

He’s laughing and you can’t help but be reminded of a ray of light. He’s like a bright beam, reflected and refracted into a spectrum of color, streaking boldly across a sunlit room. Maybe you didn’t understand how someone could be ‘beaming’ until now.   

He looks like he almost starts to reach out to touch you, maybe tuck a stray hair behind your ear or place a hand on your waist, but he aborts the movement. 

Phillip approaches you and you break from your trance. 

“Hey guys!” He greets, “how about a quick dry run fight before shooting?”

“Sounds good,” Pedro nods as you agree. 

Someone from the props department appears with your fake knife and you thank them. 

You do a slow motion run through, making sure the spacing and blocking is perfected for the set pieces around you. 

The full speed run is just as intense as the first time you had tried it the night before. You’re panting on the floor by the end, and Pedro extends a hand to help you to your feet. You look up at him from underneath the fan of your lashes and he stares down at you all the same.

“Alright you definitely have the choreography down!” Phillip sings his praises and declares you both ready for filming. 

“We’re going to start shooting in just a minute here,” Craig informs the room. 

Jess is there, coming over to touch up your make up one last time and the guy from props reappears, returning the discarded knife back to you.

“You and Pedro have us sharing the good setting powder,” Jess laughs to herself, taking some onto her brush before Coco steals the container with a smile as she passes by.

It hits you all at once.

You left hickeys all over Pedro last night, didn’t you? You look over and see Coco brushing the powder over the side of his throat.

“ Jess, ” Your eyes are blown wide.

She pauses, regarding you with confusion for a moment until the realization appears on her face.

“Oh! Don’t worry, we’ll never tell. Makeup artists take an oath of secrecy,” She explains. “ However ,” She adds, “I am living vicariously through you. Just full transparency.”

“Fair,” you reply a bit distantly, still watching Pedro.

—-

Coco goes over to Pedro and starts on her final touch ups.

“You know,” she says quietly after a moment, “The weirdest thing happened earlier.”

“Yeah?” Pedro asks, suspicious of her playful tone.

“Yeah,” she replies, “A minute before you came in asking us to cover up your hickeys, your scene partner came in needing the same thing.”

“That is… quite a coincidence…” He agreed slowly.

“I’m glad one of us had sexcapades last night,” she assured him, “all I did was watch tv.”

“Please never say ‘sexcapade’ ever again,” Pedro muttered.

“Look, if you’re going for subtlety–tone it down,” She advises, “You look like you’re about to jump each other’s bones, not kill each other.”

“Fuck, it’s that obvious?” He asks.

She just replies with raised eyebrows and a smirk. “But–hey,” she says sincerely, “Good for you, Pedge. You deserve it.”

“Stop–” He swats her away with an embarrassed smile, “Making me blush. Joel doesn’t blush.”

“Go get ‘em tiger,” She pats him on the back before leaving.

A/N: Tell me what you liked most! I wanna know what my beloved slutty lil readers enjoy!

Chapter 2

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal smut #fanfiction #tlou

[discordantwritings]

The Sand Dragon and I Pt. 2 (Dragon! Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, dragon shifter! Crocodile, monsterfucking, canon typical violence, power dynamics are once again pretty whack, possessive Crocodile, Crocodile is Mean, oral sex, facefucking, masochism, lil bit of blood, overstimulation, belly bulge, creampie, aftercare is important guys, also vampire! Mihawk is there for a little bit

WC: 6k

Summary: An unwelcome guest, a slightly more welcome guest, and a display of ownership.

Notes: I had way too much fun with this. So I originally intended this to be the end of it buttttt if you guys want more or more fantasy type aus I have many ideas

Tagging: @okanadafreakingfan

While you don’t have to make as many trips all the way up to the entrance cavern anymore for water, there’s still a daily hike you have to make up to the fountain to fill your large metal bucket that you dug up. You consider asking if there’s a closer water source but that thought is quickly dismissed. You only see him once every few weeks by his design. No need to increase the rate at which he could tire of you.

You release the dirty water from yesterday back into the pool of water, watching the dust and dirt slowly sink and travel back to the earth. You’re about to refill the bucket when suddenly you hear a noise from the tunnel to the surface. Gripping the bucket tight you press yourself to the stone wall, waiting to see what comes out of the tunnel.

This isn’t the first time this has happened- wild animals sometimes have the misfortune of wandering down too far to find food and water but most of the time they leave fairly quickly. You assume it’s something to do with Sir Crocodile’s presence no matter how far away he is this was still his lair. So when a man- an actual human man- peers out from the tunnel you nearly drop your bucket in surprise.

It’s not long before he sees you, it’s a painfully wide open cave, and you see his eyes widen in surprise before he runs over to you. As he gets closer you can really see him- disheveled presumably from days of travel, beat up armor, and a short sword gripped in his right hand. Reflexively you back off from his fast approach and as you do he stops, putting his hands up.

“Hey- I’m not going to hurt you.” His words do nothing to calm you. “Actually- I guess I’m here to free you.”

Free? Why would you- oh, yeah. Most humans don’t consensually live in a dragon’s lair. “You- look-“

“No, no don’t worry everything is okay now!” Oh boy he’s really getting into the savior role. “I’m going to kill that foul beast and then you can come home with me!”

Right, like if you had been taken you wouldn’t want to go back to your own home and to your own people. “He’s going to kill you.”

“I’ve been training for this my whole life-“ You estimate he’s in his mid 20s, whole life doesn’t really carry a lot of weight- “And I will be victorious.”

You try to warn him more but he doesn’t hear you, already walking away to go deeper into the tunnels. You’re not sure how regular of an occurrence this is for Sir Crocodile but you know he’d probably just be annoyed to see some random human wandering around.

Maybe you’ve been living in a cave for far too long, away from humanity for too long, but as you reel back with your bucket it really feels like the best solution. He doesn’t even notice you until it’s too late, heavy metal colliding with the side of his head and knocking him out cold. His body slumps to the ground as the metal clang echoes again and again off the tall stone walls.

Well. Sir Crocodile is bound to have heard that. So you fill up your bucket, take a seat, and wait for him to show up.

This time you hear him coming and for the first time since you got here you see him in his full dragon form. You aren’t as scared of him but there’s no stopping your body’s natural reaction to cower in his presence. His large eyes look over the scene- the knocked out wannabe knight and you sitting there waiting for him. You don’t say anything, just patiently wait for his reaction.

“You knocked him out.” It’s not a question.

“Yes sir.” You respond, shifting in your seat.

“Why?”

“I assumed you would be displeased to find some human attempting to kill you wandering around your lair.”

“And?” He could hear you were holding something back.

“And… he annoyed me sir.” You admit.

Impossibly loud laughter fills the space as Sir Crocodile cackles at your response. You have to bite your cheek to not smile, this was probably the best reaction you could get.

“Oh, I didn’t know my pet had such a fire!” He steps closer, snout close to the unconscious man. “Such a pathetic excuse of a human. Some do not know their place.”

His massive jaw opens and you look away just in time so you don’t have to see him devour the man whole. Your eyes glue to the ceiling as you hear the awful crunch of metal and bone under teeth. After a few moments of silence you finally look back down to see those massive eyes staring at you.

“Good work pet.”

Now that you know what these emotions are swirling deep in your stomach, embarrassment mixes in as you try and temper your reaction. You hope maybe he doesn’t care enough to analyze your reaction, to care if you like anything he says. But the way his pupils narrow into slits tells you he knows.

“Keep up the good work.” His large body turns around, knocking over a few chairs and tables as he lumbers out of the space and back down to whatever cave he lurks in. You practically melt into the chair the second you can no longer hear his movement, mortified by your own reactions to this whole situation. As you straighten up the room you ignore the perverse want in the pit of your stomach. You know how he sees humans, how he sees you. Your sick attraction was yours and yours alone. This was just another hold he was forming over you.

But all the logic in the world doesn’t stop how happy you are for the rest of the week. Not to mention a few days later your food is restocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, a gift you know is from Sir Crocodile.

He doesn’t really care.

But maybe he cares just a little.

The next time you see him you’ve made significant progress on his overstock hoard. Books are on shelves, you’ve relocated some rugs to the room, most things are at least in somewhat sensible piles, and you swear you can almost see the back of the cave. You were working on organizing the trinkets when you hear his voice.

“I didn’t think it was possible to get rid of all that dust.” Surprisingly, you don’t jump out of your skin at his presence, somewhat used to him sneaking up on you.

“It wasn’t easy sir.” You stand up straight as he walks around the space that is now open. His claws lightly drag along the bindings of books on the shelves, his reptilian eyes analyzing everything. You hold your breath, hoping that you haven’t done anything wrong in your organization.

“Categorical and alphabetical. Good enough.” He turns to you and sighs. “As much as I’ve tried to push this off, I have a guest visiting in three days. He’s just here for a meeting of sorts but I need the entrance cavern ready to receive. Don’t worry about food either.”

“Oh of course sir, I’ll get to organize that space tomorrow if that’s alright?” You wonder what kind of guest Sir Crocodile could possibly have, probably another dragon?

“And he’s human sized so I will be as well. Arrange appropriately. While I won’t require you to hang around you I would still like you to receive the guest so I’ve gotten you some more appropriate clothing.”

Human sized confirms in your mind that his guest is definitely not human. Curiosity at what clothing he could have possibly gotten you swims in your head but you’ll find that out soon enough. “I can do that sir. What time will the guest be arriving?”

“Around eight in the evening. He’s punctual, you shouldn’t have to wait long.” Crocodile walks over to the pile you were sorting through, gold claws picking up a wooden talisman. “I realize I’m giving you a sore impression of what I collect. One day you will see my real hoard, if you keep being good.”

You flush under his praise despite yourself and force your gaze forward so as to not make eye contact with him. He chuckles and you want to disappear out of embarrassment.

“I’ll see you in three days, pet.” And just like that he’s gone again.

It’s getting harder and harder to deny your reactions to him. It follows you at night to your bedroom as you fight the urge to touch yourself. You know somehow he would hear your moans, the slick noises you would inevitably create if you were to dip your fingers deep into where you need them. Knowing that you deny yourself, compounding your need with every visit he pays you. It’s becoming a problem how fast you grow slick in his presence but you keep pushing it off. Eventually it’ll pass.

Maybe.

When you get back to your room that night you find new clothes neatly folded for you on your bed. They’re the same deep green of his scales and as you touch them you feel impossibly soft silk. Holding it up you see that they should fit you perfectly, and you wonder how he knew your exact measurements. Probably a result of his impressive observation skills. The thought of his eyes raking over your body and analyzing every dip and curve of your body…

You bury your face into the clothing and huff in frustration. You really need to get your head on straight.

Focusing on setting up the entrance for a guest at least fills the time well. You arrange tables and chairs and then spend some time gathering the best looking items from the overstock to decorate the space. It makes it look more lived in, even if you know realistically it’s not going to fool anyone.

Soon enough it’s almost time to greet the guest of honor and you are hesitating by the tunnel up to the surface. Dressed in the somehow perfectly tailored clothes Sir Crocodile got for you the silk did little to soothe your anxiety. You were tasked to receive the guest but you’re not sure if that means right here or up at the surface. It had been a long time since you’ve been outside these caves and while you don’t feel yourself missing the surface… fresh air would be nice.

Sir Crocodile wouldn’t want his guest to have to do the long walk down by himself right? Your own shoddy justification is enough to have you traveling up to the surface. It’s much less foreboding than you remember, but you know that’s just because you’re used to so much worse at this point.

You know you’re almost there because you can feel the cool breeze of the desert night. Pausing, you soak it in, a sharp contrast to the damp, stale air that hangs in the deep caverns. It’s only a few more steps before you’re out, looking at the starry night sky. You forgot how beautiful it was.

Despite all these emotions never once does the thought of running away cross your mind. Not out of fear, but because your new life is actually pretty good.

“You’re not Crocodile.” A dark, smooth voice sounds from a few feet away and you turn to see what looks to be an immaculately dressed human man.

“No I’m his-“ What were you, exactly? Calling yourself his pet to a stranger feels wrong so you just use the next best term. “Servant.”

“Interesting.” He steps closer and you can see his sharp facial hair that accentuates his defined facial features. His long leather coat is lined with a deep blood red fabric that stands out against his pale white skin. You can’t help but think how handsome this man was.

“My name is Dracule Mihawk, I assume you are expecting me.” Bright golden eyes that almost seem to glow in the dim light of the night regard your form.

“Yes, I’m here to receive you, you can follow me down if you are ready?” You do your best to be formal under the scrutiny and that seems to please him.

“Lead the way.” With a nod you start making your way back down, feeling his eyes on your back the whole time.

The walk is eerily silent, so much so that it’s a relief when you finally get back to the entry cave and see Sir Crocodile standing there in his humanoid form. You shuffle slightly to the side to let Mihawk pass by you.

“Mihawk.” Sir Crocodile greets simply, tone unreadable.

“Crocodile.” Mihawk is equally unreadable until he casts a glance your way. “Is it too much to assume this human is a gift for me?”

You blanch at the question, looking worriedly over to Sir Crocodile. His face quickly pulls up into a sneer. “Don’t you dare lay an undead finger on my pet.”

“Come now Crocodile.” Mihawk is smiling now, but it’s unsettling as you see red flash over his gold eyes. “What use do you have for a human? I could use a new blood source…”

The golden hand quickly transforms into a wickedly sharp hook and loops around Mihawk’s neck as he tries to step closer to you. He growls, deep and guttural as he barely holds himself back. “I’ll rip your head clean off.”

Your heart is racing as Mihawk chuckles and throws his hands up. “Alright, alright. Someone’s grown attached to their pet.”

Crocodile lets the hook linger for a few seconds before it reforms back into a clawed hand. “They’ve proven themselves useful and loyal.”

“Oh I’m sure that’s it.” Mihawk turns back and sits in one of the prepared chairs. You’re not sure what Mihawk is implying there so you cast a confused look to Sir Crocodile.

“You can leave now.” He dismisses you and you nod.

“I’ll be reading if you need me sir.” You bow slightly to Mihawk as well before you leave, despite your fear of him.

You couldn’t leave fast enough, not catching any more conversation between the two of them. You find solace in your reading chair, book settled on your lap even though you can’t bring yourself to read just yet. Your thoughts swim as you finally process how close you were to dying and that Crocodile defended you, willing to kill someone he trusted enough to let in his lair for you. And that last comment from Mihawk… he wasn’t implying what you think he was implying right?

Thank the stars above your book is interesting so at least you can think about something else while you wait and make sure you aren’t needed any more tonight. Almost two hours pass before you see Sir Crocodile darken the entryway for the cavern. You quickly stand up, setting your book down on the chair.

“Do you need-“ You’re cut off by a wave of his clawed hand.

“Come with me.” He’s already walking away so you quickly follow.

You’re led down tunnels you haven’t been down before, going even deeper into the earth. You want to know what’s going on but stop yourself from asking questions that probably won’t get answered anyways. It’s nearly 15 minutes of fast paced walking before you stop at a gigantic set of carved stone doors. A scene of the desert has been carefully etched into the stone, somehow soft and delicate despite the hard working surface. Bracing both his hands on the doors he pushes open and with some effort the doors swing in. He walks in first and after a moment of your hesitation he waves you in as well.

So this was a real hoard.

You find yourself standing on a stone walkway above a giant pit filled with more gold and jewels than you thought existed. The walkway circled the expansive cavern- easily five times the size of the entry cave. You were stunned, mesmerized by the glimmering of the treasures by firelight.

“I told you I’d show you a real hoard.” His voice snaps you back to the moment as he continues to walk and you follow, eyes still glued to the center pit.

You follow him all the way around the radius of the pit until you’re across from the doorway. You come up on a large ornate throne and open overflowing treasure chests. He reaches down into one of the chests and plucks out a piece of jewelry. It’s a gold choker inlaid with more emeralds than you can count before he makes a motion with his other hand.

“Turn around.” You obey without hesitation.

“So obedient…” You feel him right behind you and something drapes around your neck- the cold metal presses into your throat and you know it’s that necklace he pulled out. Surprisingly deft claws clasp it into place as it settles surprisingly comfortably on you.

“Let me see.” As you turn you have to crane your neck up to see him since he’s so close to you- closer than he’s ever been.

“I didn’t think anyone would get confused but apparently I have to mark what is mine better.” The golden claws rake over the metal- over your neck- and your breath hitches. “I think it suits you.”

“It’s beautiful sir.” You can’t see it now but even just from the glimpse you got you know it is- perfectly matching with the clothes he got you.

“Quite.” His eyes rake over you and for once his pupils aren’t those narrow, scrutinizing slits. They are nearly full circles, pushing out that white grey of his irises to almost nothing.

“I want you to say it.” Crocodile’s voice is low, almost a whisper. There’s an almost inaudible rumble from his chest that you can hear. You somehow know exactly what he wants.

“I’m yours.” You look him in the eyes as you say that, his claws pressuring your neck just enough so you know they’re there.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You feel the heat radiating off his body and there’s not a doubt in your mind he can see how affected you are by him.

His claws continue to play at the edge of the choker while you try not to wither under his touch. You’d take whatever kind of touch he would give you but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want more. The desperate thought of him wrapping that large hand around your neck flits through your head and you shudder.

“What was that pet?” Of course it didn’t go unnoticed, nothing does.

“I was- just thinking, sir.” Your words come out fragmented but that doesn’t seem to bother him, in fact a smirk comes over his face.

“Thinking? What about? Tell me.” He leans down, further invading your space as that hand near your throat keeps you from slinking away.

While it’s hard to admit it to him, you don’t think for a second about disobeying him. “Your hand around my neck.”

A low growl leaves him as he gives you what you want, his hand big enough to fully wrap around your throat. You don’t bite back the moan that leaves you as he grips lightly, fully discarding any shame you have.

“You just need to ask and I’ll give you anything you could ever want. All the gold, all the clothing, all the books this world has to offer. Just say the word.” His grip on your throat keeps your eyes locked with his, showing you how truthful he’s being. Sure, he has a physical grip on you right now, but you can see you have just as much hold over him.

“I want you.”

There’s a moment where you’re confident the world stops moving as his grip reflexively tightens around you. You feel his breath, uneven, fan over your face as he stares down at you.

“Say it again.” He demands, voice little more than a growl.

“I want-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re being pulled up into a bruising kiss.

There’s nothing gentle or even kind about the way he kisses you. He takes- robbing you of your breath and thoughts as his sharp teeth drag over your lips, drawing blood. When he finally lets you pull away you taste the thick iron of your blood as you gasp for whatever air you can get past his grip around your throat.

It was everything you wanted.

He drags you backwards until he’s sitting in that huge throne and you brace your hands on the armrests as you continue to kiss him. You go breathless many times before he releases his grip on you, head pleasantly swimming from lack of oxygen. You press your forehead to his, the cool scales that dot his hairline running a chill through you.

“Too much for my pet?” He teases, claws slipping under your shirt and up your sides.

“No sir.” To prove yourself somehow you slowly sink down to your knees in front of him, hands drifting from the armrests to his knees. He somehow looked even better from this angle, broad shoulders filling up the throne and the sharp angles of his face gazing down at you.

Claws rake through your hair as you undo the fastening on his pants, an impressive bulge already straining at the fabric. Impressive quickly turns to overwhelming as you push away his clothing and get a full view of him. You had thought many, many times about what he would look like but none of your fantasies really prepared you.

He was massive- intimidatingly so. Your hand reaches out and grips his base and your fingers don’t come close to touching. He’s smoother than you would expect, long as he curves up towards his stomach, ending in an almost angular tip. You bring your mouth to his tip, taking him in just a bit. Salt and earth weigh on your tongue, surprisingly not too unpleasant.

Letting saliva pool in your mouth you messily let it drip down his cock. You pull off of him and use both of your hands to slide up and down his length, coating him in your spit. The hand in your hair grips hard and forces you to look up at him.

“I want you to look at me while you pleasure me pet.” The pain of him pulling your hair only turns you on further.

“Yes sir.” You keep eye contact with him as you take him into your mouth once again, tongue flattening as you slowly push him further into your mouth and down your throat. You can’t take all of him but your hands compensate, sliding up and down the remaining length in time with your mouth. Apparently though, it’s not quite enough.

“Oh, pet, let me-“ Claws dig into your scalp as he holds your head in place and thrusts his hips up to shove his cock further down your throat.

You sputter and gag as he forces himself down further than you thought he could go but he doesn’t let up, holding you there while you adjust. Finally you force your breathing through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you calm your throat down to take him.

“That’s it- knew you could take more- don’t think about a thing just let me fuck that tight little throat of yours.” He continues his assault and you let him, not making a single move to escape his grasp.

Your don’t have enough thought in your head to continue moving your hands so you just hold his base as he uses your throat. All that you can do is take what he’s giving you and do your best to maintain eye contact through the tears. You can only imagine what you look like to him- absolutely debauched as your mouth and throat stretch to accommodate him, tears and spit dripping from your face onto the stone below.

You’re not sure how long you’re like this, knees on the cold stone as you let your face get fucked, losing track of time and just about everything else. It’s only when his thrusts loose their steady rhythm and you can feel the throb of his cock that you snap back, suddenly hearing the words pouring out of Crocodile’s mouth.

“I knew you’d be such a good whore for me- you’re going to swallow what I give you aren’t you pet? It’ll be so easy when I pour it right down your throat-“ At least you know it’s coming and you hum in acknowledgment, the only way you can let him know that you want it too.

That noise in your throat seems to be all that’s needed to push him over the edge as he holds your head tight and spills his cum down your throat. You fight against the urge to gag, doing your best to swallow until he finally releases his grip on the back of your head, letting you pull off and gasp for air. You rest your head on his thigh while you catch your breath and you feel his hand gently brush against your cheek, a sharp contrast to how he was only a few moments ago.

“So good for me… does my pet deserve a reward?” You barely have time to process his words before you’re being moved, world flipping around.

Suddenly you’re sitting in the throne and Crocodile is on his knees in front of you, a predatory grin splitting his face. He doesn’t waste any time, sharp claws tearing and ripping your bottoms clean off. You want to protest but the words die in your throat as he holds your thighs open and stares at you.

“I knew you’d be soaked but all this?” You feel the sharp edge of his claws play at your folds. “My poor pet has been so pent up.”

He kisses up your inner thigh and as he gets closer occasionally his sharp teeth sink into your flesh, just breaking the delicate skin there. After every bite he licks over the wounds and you can’t quite see but you can feel that his tongue is longer than you would expect it to be. Your fists ball at your sides, every pinprick of pain sending a new rush of pleasure through you.

“You can grip onto me if you like, you won’t hurt me.” Hesitantly, you move one of your hands to his hair as he hikes your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting to taste you since I first saw you, I just know you’ll be divine.”

His claws somehow don’t rip open you skin as he pries your folds open before diving in with that long, thick tongue. You immediately see stars as pushes his tongue into you and it curls inside you. The pad of his thumb presses down on your clit as he relentlessly swipes against your insides. He pulls back for a second, a single strand of hair falling in his face.

“If you’re going to take me I’ll have to get you ready.” You watch as his golden claws loose their edge but get thicker before they disappear between your legs.

Your legs instinctually wrap around his neck as you feel the cool metal press against your entrance. You hear him chuckle before his tongue swirls around your clit and he presses a single large finger inside you. The moan that leaves you would embarrass you if you were capable of that emotion anymore. The gold is thick and cold inside you, a feeling so weirdly foreign yet amazing.

All of the sensations- his finger inside you, his tongue swirling around your clit, his flesh hand holding your hips down- it’s too much. Crying out and griping his hair you cum all over his finger and tongue. Despite your orgasm Crocodile doesn’t let up for a second though, a second finger slipping inside you while your mind and body buzzed off the high.

“You’re going to have to get a lot looser than that pet.” The two fingers make a scissoring motion inside you and he uses the gap he creates to snake his tongue inside you as well.

You nearly yell in pleasure as his tongue reaches spots you can only dream of finding with your own fingers. Without thinking your hips move up to try and find more friction but his single hand keeps you pressed down to the velvet fabric of the throne. He shoots you a warning glare that only makes you want more. You’re already sensitive from the orgasm you just had so it’s not too long before you’re chanting his title and wrapping your legs ever tighter around the back of his neck. His tongue pulls out and you whine at the loss but it’s short lived as it travels up to your clit, flicking over it before you feel the very edges of his teeth scrape that sensitive bud and you feel like your nerves light on fire.

You’re gushing over his fingers again and he finally stops moving, pressing more kisses and bites into your inner thighs. Once your legs finally relax he slides his fingers out and uses both his hands to grip your waist as he flips your positions once again. This time as he sits on the throne you’re positioned on his lap, his length already sliding against your folds.

“Do you think you’re ready to take me?” His mouth finds your neck, teeth scraping against skin as you grind against his cock. “Or are you going to get off like this?”

“No- please I need you inside me.” You force yourself to stop moving to prove your point.

“Hm… you’re almost ready…” One of his sharp claws rips open your top from the center causing it too fall loose from your shoulders. Now all that’s left on you is that golden choker. “Perfect.”

Just one of his hands is enough to lift you up, the other hand lining up his cock with your entrance. You gasp as his tip presses into you, already stretching you out as much as his fingers. Digging your nails into the fur lining of his coat, somehow still situated on his shoulders, you do your best to stay relaxed as Crocodile pushes inch after inch into you.

“I- fuck- you’re too big-“ You sputter out as you feel him getting deeper, pushing your body to its limits.

“You just- fuck pet- you just need to relax. You can take it. I know you can.” You feel the cold metal of his gold hand rub tight circles around your clit. “You’re gripping me so tight just let me in.”

“I’m-“ You feel like you’re being ripped in half but there’s something about the pain of the stretch that feels so good.

You’re already so overstimulated and the filthy words in your ear and the quick movements of his fingers are too much. You cum with a wordless scream, burying your face into Crocodile’s neck. Taking advantage of how your body contracts and then relaxes during your orgasm he shoves his cock in the rest of the way- tip suddenly shoving against your cervix and sending a wave of pain through your body. You hit his shoulder and he pulls back slightly, soothing kisses pressed against your throat.

“See thats it, you could take me pet, see?” His hand rubs over your abdomen and lightly pushes you back. “Look at that.”

You look down and see your stomach bulging out slightly, showing you how far his cock had gone in you. Crocodile pushes down on the bulge with his hand, fascinated by the way your body takes him. You can only whine, uselessly clawing at his jacket as he sits inside you, unmoving.

“So fucking tight and warm pet. I should have had you like this from the first night you came here. But now that you’re here-“ His hips finally move, each thrust sharp and deep. “You’re never going anywhere else. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours- I’m- Sir please it’s- it’s too much-“ Three orgasms had put all your nerves on edge, each slide of his cock inside you overwhelming.

“Oh you can take it. You’re doing so well pet- just a little more-“ He quickens his pace and you cry out before he captures your lips with his own and swallows all your noises.

Pushed past where you thought you could go everything goes a bit numb, head fuzzy in a pleasant way. You give yourself up to him, let him take whatever he wants from you as you surrender. There’s no more thoughts in your head and you can barely hear the nasty things he’s whispering in between kisses. You’ve never felt like this before and you loved it.

The fog clears slightly when Crocodile nips at your earlobe. “I’m going to fill you up pet- how’s that sound?”

You can only moan in response, you’d be fine with whatever he asked you at this point.

“That’s it- so fucking perfect for me- taking it all for me and letting me fill you up- just like-“ He shifts his hips and thrusts faster, hitting deep inside you. “Need you to cum again, come on pet, grip me tight like that again-“

“I- I don’t know if-“ Your protests are quickly drowned out.

“Yes you can- come on now.” He presses against your abused clit again and your body caves to his demands as your walls convulse around him.

You feel his warm seed pour into you, mixing with your cum and gushing out onto both of your thighs. You’re only somewhat aware of how much cum he spilled into you, still leaking out of him as he slowly pulls out of you. Instinctively you wrap your arms around your neck and pull him close and you feel a warm chuckle in his chest.

“Does my pet need some affection?” Hair is brushed out of your face as one arm holds you close to his chest. “You’ve done such a good job.”

You feel him stand up but you’re secure against his large body as you’re carried off somewhere. Things are still fuzzy and you can’t track the turns down the tunnels but you feel the air grow damper until you hear the sound of running water.

“You’re going to have to let go for a moment.” He tells you gently and you obey, arms sliding off as he sets you down.

It isn’t until your feet hit water that you realize this cave is one giant hot spring. You immediately shuffle forward until you’re mostly covered with the warm water, the heat sinking into your already sore muscles. Crocodile, finally naked, joins you a few moments later, scooping you up from behind. He carries you over to a spot where he can sit and still be mostly covered with water and you stay curled up in his lap.

You’re so tired, mind and body exhausted from the night. It doesn’t even startle you when you feel Crocodile’s tail possessively wrap around your legs while his arms hold you at your waist. Drifting in and out of consciousness you occasionally feel him washing parts of you off, the smell fragrant soaps pushing you even farther to sleep.

You wake up slightly when it’s time to get out of the water, skin pruning from the over exposure. You towel yourself off and Crocodile wraps you in a soft robe before sweeping you off your feet once again.

It’s not long before you’re back in your room, gently laid in bed. You pull the covers over yourself as Crocodile scans over your body.

“Have a good night pet.” He says, rubbing your shoulder before taking a few steps away.

“Wait.” Your words stop his leaving and he casts you a questioning glance. “You said I could have anything I want?”

“Yes, of course.” He walks back over to you.

“Then… could you stay the night with me?”

Sir Crocodile isn’t easily readable, you’ve been fighting to understand his thoughts for months now through glances and sparse words. He was unmovable, strong, fearsome.

But you don’t miss the way his face softens at your request.

“Whatever you ask.” He slides into bed next to you and after some adjusting your back is pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around your middle and that large tail rests over your leg. You feel safe, secure, against his large frame.

“Sleep well my treasure.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader

[brain-rot-central]

I might be in the minority here, but let me cook for a minute.

If you break up with Ascended Astarion (refuse his offer to turn you into a spawn), he approaches you a couple days later and will go into this whole mantra about how he would have abused your love, you made a mistake, etc. Basically trying to convince you that he's not the least bit upset about it, and that he's doing you the favor of seeing to destroying the brain. He also asks if you could work together as partners during this, as well.

This is a hot take on this but...

Astarion is lying through his fucking teeth in this scene. Receipts below the cut.

During the sex scene with Ascended Astarion, you get a Wisdom check where you can look into his thoughts. If you pass this Wisdom check, it's revealed to you that Astarion essentially thinks very highly of you, as he would believe you'd be degrading yourself if you choose to become his spawn. He knows it's wrong of him to put you in this position, but at that point in time he's so incredibly infatuated with the new powers he's been given, as well as finally having his insatiable craving for blood lifted for the first time in 200 years. He's absolutely drunk on power and it's heavily clouding his judgement.

If you face Cazador without Astarion, there's a skill check you can pass when he's in his coffin recovering where you can also look into Cazador's thoughts. Essentially, Cazador's inner monologue does not match who he is on the outside. He's essentially trapped in his own body and mind, and basically wishes for death. He hates how much of a hold blood and power has over him; he wants it all to end. He hates who he has become.

In the D&D lore, true vampires are soul-less beasts. They become driven by blood lust and a desire to turn the whole world under their command. They lack the ability to harbor empathy or other emotions, especially love. BG3 introduces the Vampire Ascendent into the D&D lore; they basically regain multiple aspects of their humanity while still keeping the powers of a true vampire. They can still drink blood and turn people into thralls/spawn, but they no longer require blood to survive, are able to walk in the sun, enter homes uninvited, walk through running water, etc. You're basically a living vampire, but still immortal.

Given that Astarion becomes the Vampire Ascendent, his brain is not clouded by a need to consume blood. He doesn't have that pit in his stomach that drove every other vampire that came before him. He's being blinded by power. He has the ability to think rationally. When you refuse his offer to bend to his will, he becomes incredibly, incredibly hurt. He says the biggest crimes known to man are committed in the name of "love." If you call him a hypocrite, he shrinks back into his insecurities and states that your character's "true colors" are finally revealing themselves. He becomes incredibly bitter because you rejected him. You hurt him by refusing what he has become. And it absolutely destroys a large part of him on the inside.

Honestly that's the only rationale I can come up with as to why he eventually decides to smooth things over with you by saying there's no use in fighting, he admits he would have abused your love, played with it to get what he wanted until you were nothing (again, he's heavily deflecting here and trying to convince even himself that's what he would have done), and wants to still be partners in battle at the very least. He still wants to be near you. Because a large part of him still cares about you. Even if he can't understand it at that moment because he's clouded by power, he's still drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He's trying to convince himself that he no longer cares about you in that way. If he genuinely didn't care about the PC, he would leave regardless of whether you helped him or not. He would choose himself and his own interests; he wouldn't stick around and repay some petty debt. He got what he wanted, why bother helping some poor sod fix their problems? As revealed in the wisdom check, he still does think highly of the PC.

Despite what option you choose for Astarion (Ascended vs Non), he will tell you in both endings that you basically gave him his life back, and he will thank you for it. That I believe is genuine on both ends as it happens in both endings. If you ask Ascended Astarion to be gentle when he bites you, he heeds your request and performs the act in the most gentle way possible, choosing your wrist (kissing the back of your hand first) as opposed to your neck.

I'm rambling at this point but the bottom line is Ascended Astarion does still care for the PC, imo. It's just being heavily clouded under a mountain of new found powers and awe. I have no doubt that once that all blows over, he'd absolutely 100% be at your door on an almost nightly basis borderline begging you to take him back, or trying his hardest to convince you to at least give him a chance to talk. He's not a monster driven by horrific bloodlust. He's infatuated with this newfound power and mental clarity. Imo, unless there are new rules in the D&D lore that state differently, this is a temporary thing. And he'll absolutely be back to wanting you again at some point.

But fuck waiting around for that, lmao.

#Astarion #bg3 #spoilers #ascended astarion #non-ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello author its me the on who requested the Love after death in both part and the others... I finally have courage to reveal muself and no longer anonymous.

First of all before i request another one (sorry for being greedy) i wanted to thank you for responding to my requests especially the angsty ones, you never failed me to give a comfort and motivation, i cannot thank you enough for that.

And now for my request if you remember my other request about ei reader x ror characters that you can't write due to being unfamiliar to the character?

I will ask you instead to write a ror x demi godess freader. She commonly use a weapon like lu bu when fighting but once her weapon breaks or she found a very strong opponent she use her katana. She summon it like in the gif in below.

Now the fun part is how would the ror charcters react? Would they ended up having a nosebleeds, ended up shy or tease them?

Gods

Thor

Poseidon

Shiva

Rudra

Budhha

Zero

Beelzebub

Loki

Ares

Hermes

Aphrodite

Humans

Kojiro

Adam (platonic)

Hercules

Jack

Lu bu and chen gong

Raiden

Qin shu huang

You can choose who to write because i know there is a lot of them😅😅😅😅

Ahh~ my sweet love, your angsty requests have been so much fun to write! I don’t mind you asking for another, you’re not being greedy, I’m just happy that you are patient while I write all these requests plus my own original works.

I do have one question however….

Why in the world does she have a sword between her titties?! I actually looked this up and watched the scene where she does this, and I’m just flabbergasted that she had it there!

-As a demi-goddess, you had the choice of fighting for either side, as both Zeus and Brunnhilde had approached you to fight, both knowing your skills as a fighter.

-You were initially going to refuse both of them, but after Zeus tried to command you, while Brunnhilde asked you, you chose to fight for humanity, not liking being commanded to do anything, something Zeus regrets as he lost a good fighter because he was so pushy with you!!

-Your opponent was strong, which excited you, as that meant you didn’t have to hold back!

-You swung your halberd with ease, and your opponent, Kand, a minor earth god, managed to snap the blade clean off, breaking your halberd.

-The other fighters and the audience in attendance called out in worry for you, as they didn’t want to lose someone like you, beautiful, powerful, and smart, you really were the whole package.

-Kand laughed at you, pointing a finger at you while he held his belly, “Can you still fight me Y/N?! Now that I’ve broken your only weapon!!”

-You glared and brought your hands up to your chest, “Who said that was my only weapon?”

-What could only be described as a black hole, opened at the top of your chest, on your cleavage, as you tilted your head back.

-A sword began to emerge from the black hole, glowing brightly as your hand lifted to the handle.

-Your eyes snapped open, glowing with power as you pulled out a beautiful katana from the magic black hole between your breasts, clutching it as the light faded.

-Kand was gawking, pointing rudely as his eyes were wide, “Where the heck did that come from?!”

-You charged at him, fast enough that it looked like you disappeared, before reappearing behind him as he fell, his head rolling off his shoulders.

-You pouted lightly, “It’s rude to ask a lady questions like that.”

-The crowds went wild, roaring loudly.

-Thor- Was stunned on how quickly the match ended, able to see that your katana was your true weapon, you were good with the halberd, but there was something natural about you holding a sword. He blinked once or twice, confused on how you were hiding that sword.

-Poseidon- Eyes widened only just slightly before relaxing as he watched you pull your sword out, before his amusement grew with how easily you took care of that weaker, cocky god. It made him curious about how strong you actually were.

-Shiva- Immediately turned to his wives, who were cheering for you, “Can you really hide stuff in your chest like that?” they just giggled, like they had a secret as Parvati spoke, “That’s a woman only secret~” but all three were impressed with your skills.

-Rudra- Eyes went wide when your halberd broke, but when the sword started to emerge from your chest, his jaw dropped, mouth hanging open before you pulled that out, completely stunned on where you got that sword!

-Buddha- Smirked, moving his lollipop to the other side of his mouth, finding it alluring and could instantly tell that your sword was your true weapon as you ended the fight so quickly after pulling it out. Then had to ruffle Zerofuku’s hair after the boy asked him if he had anything like that between his chest.

-Zerofuku- Was confused as to why you had a sword between your chest. He looked up at Buddha who had a big chest, wondering if he had anything between his own which got his hair ruffled by the taller god.

-Beelzebub- Was more intrigued with the magic that appeared there first, curious as to what it was. Froze, eyes wide when he saw you pulling the sword from your body, unable to look away.

-Loki- Looking disrespectfully, gawking with his tongue lolled out, full blush on his face as he could only gawk in awe. He wanted to get a closer look~

-Zeus- Cheering loudly, leading the charge of the cheers of the arena. He had never seen anything like it and he was so excited!!

-Ares- His whole head was bright red, staring shamelessly, blood dripping from his nose as he couldn’t believe what he just watched, gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

-Hermes- Amused by Ares’ reaction just a bit more, but was stunned with the magic that you used and even more so when he saw how big the actual sword was.

-Aphrodite- Giggled softly, hiding her mouth behind her hand, amused to see the reactions of others, but as a large chested woman herself, she knew well that any woman could hide things between or under her boobs, like knives~

-Hercules- Lifted a hand to his face to hide his blush, embarrassed to stare at you in such a way, but couldn’t take his eyes off of you, especially when you handled your opponent so easily.

-Kojiro- His face was bright red, watching you pull that from your chest, but he immediately focused on your form, his eyes widening as he saw you move, being one of a handful that was able to keep up with your moves.

-Jack- Was staring before he started, his cheeks warming as he turned, being a gentleman, not wanting to gawk at a young lady such as yourself in such a way. Was impressed with your skills with the sword however.

-Lu Bu- Could sense the power radiating from you, a feral grin appearing on his lips, wanting to fight you himself. However, he was one of the few that wasn’t bothered where you had your sword stashed.

-Chen Gong- Unlike his lord, as soon as you pulled that sword out he flew back, blood spurting from his nose, twitching on the ground. He didn’t even see the end of the fight.

-Raiden- A bright grin on his face as he watched you pull your weapon out, delight on his face as he found it attractive, “What a woman!” cheered loudly with the rest of the crowd.

-Qin Shi Huang- A bright smile on his face as he watched the scene, amazed by the magic that had appeared, wanting to know more about it, but very pleased watching the show.

-Adam- The time from when you pulled your sword out to being announced the winner was only about five seconds, but he was instantly glaring, exerting his pressure to those around him as he glared at them, ready to throw hands and lay waste to those who would say anything impure about his precious daughter!!

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror thor #ror poseidon #ror shiva #ror rudra #ror buddha #ror zerofuku #ror beelzebub #ror loki #ror zeus #ror ares #ror hermes #ror aphrodite #ror sasaki kojiro #ror heracles #ror jack the ripper #ror lu bu #ror chen gong #ror raiden #ror qin shi huang #ror adam

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

2. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓻’𝓼 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮

The meeting was the first, but it certainly wouldn't be their last. Dorian soon took the habit of observing the girl as well as, occasionally, her family. (Y/n) was eleven. A young human girl living with her parents. They were peasants, selling whatever they were able to grow and pick to the village nearby. Barely enough for them to sustain themselves, he noted with distaste.

A few days later, Dorian ventured into the woods once more, seeking out the same clearing where he had first encountered the girl. She was slumped against the bark of an old oak tree in the same clearing he had found her the first time. Her breathing in small puffs as she was dozing off from a long day of work. It seemed like she did that often. Working all day, then taking a break because of the hard labor.

Her dark lashes brushed gently against her rosy cheeks, and her mouth lay slightly ajar, allowing soft snores to escape her lips. A carpet of orange and yellow dead leaves encircled her, the tranquility of the scene evoking imagery from the tales of old faeries. Dorian, captivated by the idyllic tableau before him, lightly tapped her shoulder, his charming smile already in preparation. She stirred, mumbling in her half-slumber. A subtle quirk tugged at the corner of Dorian's mouth, genuinely amused by her innocence.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she immediately registered his presence, her eyes widening with recognition. In a swift motion, she leaped to her feet, now fully alert.

"We meet each other again," Dorian greeted with a honeyed tone, his voice a velvety caress of words.

The girl nodded before looking down at her sabots. She made to take her basket, but he took it before her, taking a look at the content of it. The basket overflowed with an assortment of forest berries, some of them notably scarce in this region. Moreover, the approach of winter only added to the value of her find. The girl must have spent a grueling day gathering these treasures, and Dorian frowned at the thought of her laboring so exhaustively.

"Such an arduous task," he commented. "For such a young lady."

She shrugged. "It's not that hard, really," she defended, gaining more confidence. "I'm used to it. I just pick anything that can be sold depending on the season." She pointed at her basket. "These are probably the last berries of the season, for example. But carrots are so tasty during this season, so I'll soon help my mom pick them from the garden." Her words flowed more freely now, a testament to her growing comfort and expertise. "We'll make jam with the berries to prepare for winter," she also added before continuing to ramble about random facts about vegetables and fruits.

As she spoke, (Y/n) exhibited clear confidence and a deep passion for the subject at hand. She was eager to share her knowledge with anyone willing to listen. Her eyes glimmered as she spoke, and she gestured animatedly, her words flowing in a rapid, uninterrupted stream.

Dorian listened with genuine interest, nodding occasionally in response. He found himself entertained by this young human, her innocence and zeal proving to be genuinely endearing. Unbeknownst to him, he couldn't help but smile fondly at the charming, talkative mortal who had become an unexpected and captivating presence in his timeless existence.

As their encounters became more frequent, the young girl would remember the necessity of returning to her modest cottage, and once again, Dorian escorted her back to the little shack she called home. Observing her enter the residence, his brows furrowed, an expression of silent contemplation etched upon his aristocratic features. He departed not long after, for a man had unknowingly walked into the path of the vampire, presenting himself as a perfect meal for Dorian's insatiable hunger.

Their meetings became almost routine, taking place under the same conditions each time. (Y/n) would be found in the tranquil clearing, having completed a demanding day's labor, while Dorian would appear to engage in conversation as though he hadn't been silently observing her for at least an hour prior. There was just something about (Y/n) he couldn't shake off. She just was... there was an invigorating aspect to her presence that resonated within him.

This unfamiliar sensation was exhilarating, stirring emotions within Dorian's cold, long-dead heart that had lain dormant for centuries. In her presence, it began to thaw and pulse again, brought to life by the presence of this captivating girl. She was a delightful person to be around, the kind he yearned to spend more time with.

"What is your name, sir ?" She had suddenly asked one day.

Dorian's eyebrows raised in realization, recognizing he had never once introduced himself. "How careless of me," he admitted, feeling a sense of negligence. "I am Duke Dorian de Beauvoir."

Her eyes widened. "A duke ?" She repeated. "I knew you were rich, but I didn't know you were a duke, sir. You must be very rich," she mused, her youthful pondering causing her forehead to furrow. "Mom and dad say nobles aren't good people. Too selfish."

Frustration crinkled his eyes as his lips pursed. "This is false," objected the man. "I am not selfish." He paused before continuing, his words slipping out almost of their own volition,  "I would willingly invite you to my estate, child."

A quizzical tilt of her head was her response, and Dorian found himself surprised by his own offer.

"You work a lot at such a young age, dear," he explained himself while giving her a grave look. "Would you not like to rest ? I reside in a lavish manor, I am sure you would feel comfortable in it."

(Y/n) shook her head from side to side. "I don't work that much. I know some people my age that are doing the same thing. We're just helping the family."

His nose wrinkled in distaste. "Young children should be pampered, not forced to work," he said.

Her sigh of frustration was palpable as she crossed her arms, countering his viewpoint with a steadfast resolve "This rule only applies to nobles, sir," the human argued as though it were the most obvious of truths. "Besides, I have to help my parents."

And thus, the conversation concluded, leaving a lingering impression in Dorian's mind, like so many other interactions with the child.

Vampires were, in popular belief, monsters – unfeeling, selfish, and cunning beings who pursued their desires relentlessly. When they set their sights on a goal, nothing could deter them. An idea was beginning to take shape in Dorian's mind.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

𝐻𝒾, 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓈𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓇. 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉. 𝐼𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝟤𝟤 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader

[halcyonfawn]

the meaning behind "face the raven" theme in "wild blue yonder" and more

a continuation of this post. i need to talk about this otherwise i'll explode.

some people have also said that this theme is playing in "last christmas" and "hell bent" (thank you for pointing that out, i'm going to die) which makes it all even worse (better). therefore, this post is, more or less, destined to turn into capaldi's era brainrot. but not all of it, i promise.

you've been warned.

first of all, allow me to refresh your memory. let's look into the context of the scenes where we heard this music theme before.

"last christmas"

according to series 8 official soundtrack, this theme is a part of "every christmas is last christmas" and is heard quite clearly two times. they're both important scenes for the doctor and clara.

too late.

a moment full of regrets and nostalgia. the doctor thinking he's lost clara again, wishing he would have come back sooner. clara reminicing her life without the doctor in it.

"so no one matched up to danny, eh?" "there was one other man, but that would never have worked out." "why not?" "he was impossible."

it is (heavily) implied that "one other man" is the doctor. does the doctor himself realise that she's talking about him? open for interpretation. but what this small exchange truly does is showing a game of saying something without actually saying it.

"can you really see no difference in me?" "clara oswald, you will never look any different to me."

yet another way of dancing around words. there's something special and touching about this last line. it is sort of a confession of unconditional love. but the word itself - love - is never spoken out loud.

then again, twelfth might be face blind.

second chances.

now, this scene is a complete opposite of the one mentioned above. it's full of hope, anticipation, happiness. a beginning of a new arc. he is given a second chance and he takes it. the doctor asks clara to run away with him once again. and she says "yes" without hesitation, takes his hand, kisses him on the cheek.

conclusion? these two scenes are focused entirely on the doctor and clara's relationship. it is there to show their strong connection, how much they mean to one another. utter devastation at the thought of their time ending and the absolute joy of reuniting after being separated. a chance at a happy ending. which also makes the music that plays on the background their theme.

"face the raven"

"every christmas is last christmas" is now turned into "face the raven" and is asocciated with clara's death. it also makes the previous name even more heartwrenching since last christmas was literally clara and doctor's last hurrah. we can hear this piece of music appear in two scenes as well.

clara's monologue about facing the raven.

"if danny pink can do it so can i. die right. die like i mean it, face the raven. maybe this is what i wanted. maybe this is it. maybe this is why i kept running. maybe this is why i kept taking all those stupid risks, kept pushing it."

she's accepting her fate and aknowleges her recklesness all the way throught the season 9. it was meant to be. there wasn't enough space for two doctors in the tardis.

"i let you get reckless" "why? why shouldn't i be reckless? you're reckless all the bloody time! why can't i be like you?" "clara, there's nothing special about me. i'm nothing but less breakable than you. i should've taken care of you."

this scene is also about how a human life can be so very short compared to the time lord's and how easily it can end. it's fragile. and it's the doctor's curse: bearing the pain of losing his loved ones.

clara meeting her fate.

as she approaches the raven, ever so brave, the doctor watches her. he hears clara scream, then witness her collapsing onto the ground. it is extremely painful, but this is, i repeat, the doctor's curse: watching his companions leave. there's no use in running away from that pain, it haunts him every step of the way.

"hell bent"

next time, "face the raven" theme can be heard during the memory wipe sequence. there is no name given for the background music in this particular moment, but it's quite obvious it represents loss and... letting go?

the doctor is about to make clara forget their time together (does that ring a bell, anyone?).

it is worth pointing out that the music becomes the loudest at the exact moment the doctor says:

"look how far i went for fear of losing you. this has to stop. one of us has to go."

it is the culmination of their relationship. companions that push each other to extremes. together they might destroy the whole universe in order to keep each other safe. there's no other way but to separate. they've formed such a strong connection than one is ought to forget the other.

even though at first the doctor is determined to wipe clara's memories, he then admits she is right: it is unfair to take away all that wonderful time they had from her. so he gives her a choice. or, more like, an offer to play a russian roulette. it's either you or me. i'm not going to press that button. we will do this together.

to summarise: all of these moments featured a strong connection between clara and the doctor. it also tells us a story about how hard it is to lose someone you care about deeply, especially for the doctor.

how is it all connected to the doctor and donna?

memory wipe

the doctor has to make donna and clara forget about him in order to keep them safe. expect that he doesn't give donna a choice, wiping her memory almost instantly, without saying a proper goodbye to her. obviously, he didn't have enough time to think of a better way to solve the problem since donna wouldn't have lasted long. however, it is still a decision he regrets making.

from "the star beast":

"i'm so glad you're back, donna. it killed me, it killed me, it killed me."

if we take a look at clara's situation, it's a bit different. i've already mentioned it above: at first, the doctor wants to do the same thing to clara that he did to donna. make her forget. expect, this time he is confronted for doing so (even threatened, at some point).

"these have been the best years of my life and they're mine."

i think this line triggers something in the doctor. because this is when he realises that this is not the right thing to do. not exactly. he'd already done it once and he regretted it. so this time, he offers a slightly different solution. someone still has to forget, but they'll press that button together. it's a mutual choice.

now, i know it's not entirely related to the dialogue in "wild blue yonder", but i think it's worth mentioning that donna and clara's stories are somewhat similar. i'm sure it's been said before, but it's still important.

donna's story was incomplete because she wasn't given a choice. now, that she remembers, 14th doctor makes sure their time together is worth-while. a second chance just like in "last christams".

too alike

another similarity between these two stories is that clara and donna are not entirely humans. not anymore.

donna's half timelord. even though her head is still not big enough to fit all the doctor's memories, she still has a part of the doctor in her.

clara's frozen in time, that makes her practically immortal. she risks her life, she reverses the polarity of the neuroblock, she gets her own tardis, she's even reffered to as "clara who" at the end of "hell bent". she has become the doctor in a sense.

but there can only be one doctor. so where's the story heading to at this point, i wonder? but we'll come back to this question later.

"but what really happened?"

before i say anything, it is obvious that the doctor's silence before and after he says "a lot" is him reminicing all that'd happened to him during the 11th, 12th and 13th reincarnations. all of the loss and pain he went through.

but why "face the raven" theme of all things? it could be a general theme of grief/nostalgia/painful memories, nothing else implied.

but please let me be delusional for a bit longer!

just as that scene in "hell bent" brought the doctor back to the moment he made donna forget him, could it be that bringing back his best friend's memories in a whole universe that "he absolutely loves", also reminded him of another important person in his life with similar story? just like "hell bent" mirrored "the journey's end", "wild blue younder" gave us a reference to "hell bent".

this is where we get back to the question about the current story direction.

foreshadowing?

donna's story is not over. and there are a lot of possibilities how it can end.

say, there is a connection to clara's story here, i wonder if that's where the plot's heading. in one of the trailers, the doctor does say "i'm not sure if i can save you this time" to donna. and it worries me. then again, maybe they're just tricking us into thinking something bad will happen (oh the drama).

i'd say it's unlikely donna's going to die because that would be absolutely devastating after just bringing her back. at the very least, the ending wouldn't be completely "happily ever after". perhaps, sacrifices will be made in order to prevent something truly horrible from happening.

why did this face come back?

in "the girl who died" twelfth doctor finally realises why he got his face. it is a call-back to "the fires of pompei" (don't even get me started on its being the episode with 10th and donna).

the message the doctor was giving to himself turned out to be:

"i'm the doctor and i save people!"

but what is 14th trying to tell himself?

i think it's about donna and more.

he's fixing his mistake of erasing her memories and depriving her of the right to remember amazing things that'd happened to her.

it's a reminder to actually tell people how much they mean to him. as we can see, 14th's more open with his feelings and constantly shows signs of affection towards his loved ones, even breaking the "never say i love you" rule.

it's about being honest and open with people because they deserve to hear it from him and he deserves to hear it back. because "things happen and then it's too late".

again, take 12th doctor, for instance. he constantly represses his feelings. but in my humble opinion, the reason why he's changed by season 10 was clara. she pulled him out of the dark place. and even though her death almost threw him back to that state again, he is still a better man by season 10.

but there were things left unsaid. love and care were always there but it was never said out loud. kind of the same thing happened with 13th.

i strongly believe that donna is that person for 14th. they're best friends who love each other deeply. and after the doctor lost her and got a second chance to fix everything, he does, he's being affectione. he's finally open with his feelings.

conslusion: why did you make us read all fo this?

to answer the question in the title: it's all tied with how memories are important and priceless, fixing past mistakes, moving on and learning to treasure every moment with people you care about like it's your last.

it can also be a foreshadowing for something terrible, but i choose to hope for the better.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

aaaand that is the end of my doctor who rant. thank you for getting this far, if you did!

my feelings about all of this can be described with this one meme:

#doctor who #doctor who meta #dw #dw spoilers #wild blue yonder #twelfth doctor #fourteenth doctor #tenth doctor #donna noble #clara oswald #face the raven #last christmas #hell bent #twelveclara #whouffaldi #i'm sincerely sorry if you've stumbled across some stupid grammatical or other mistakes while reading #i wrote a part of this at 3am #[unhinged analysis]

[generalllimaginesss]

"Who are you again?" with Nico. I have this thought that he wants to talk to her at a bar and gets nervous and is cocky when he approaches her. And obviously she knows who he is because his face is plastered all over the city. But she can’t stand when men are arrogant so she pretends not to know him and sends him back to his table. Then maybe he sees her at a coffee shop a few days later and he approaches her there too but in a more chill way. And she continues the “who are you again” joke but actually has a conversation with him.

Just like fluffy Nico being awkward and kind of being awful but only bc he’s nervous around the pretty girl.

Honestly I feel like Nico would be the most precious boyfriend ever. Whoever gets him wins in life. But anyways….here ya go! I kind of went a slightly different route with Nico not being very nervous, but I feel like this flows ok. Thank you for requesting! Keep them coming!

••

The bar that you were currently in was loud and slightly obnoxious. Because it was later in the night, the crowd was more rowdy than you cared for, causing you to become irritable with everything.

So here you were, sitting with a friend of yours at a table in the corner, trying to avoid people at all costs, when a group of guys walk through the door, some laughing, some heading to the bar, but one in particular caught your eye.

He was tall, had brown hair that was a little messy, but his smile was hard to miss. It lit up the whole room, a refresher from the scene that had been playing before his presence.

"Is that who I think it is?" Your friend elbowed you, pointing to where the guy was propping himself up against the wall talking to somebody.

As you sat there looking at him longer, trying to place his face, the realization that the guy is Nico Hischier hits you. He's practically the face of hockey in New Jersey, how could you miss that?

You watch as somebody hands him a beer and he takes a sip, his head tipping back slightly and his eyes beginning to take in the people around him. A couple of girls ask to take pictures with him, so he obliges. Some guys go over and talk to him about the game that night, but nothing really caught his attention until he glanced around the room and saw you sitting at a corner table, already looking at him.

Immediately, you break the eye contact, hoping that maybe he wasn't actually looking at you, but he pushes off of the wall and begins to walk in your direction.

"Holy shit he's coming over here," Your friend squeals, adjusting her hair so that she looks presentable.

"Shut up," You hiss, not wanting to seem like a crazy fangirl.

Nico gets intercepted by a guy with a Devils jersey on asking for a picture, but he immediately comes to your table afterwards, pulling a chair out and taking a seat.

Something about how he didn't ask if he could sit with you hit you wrong. Sure, he was famous and good looking, but that didn't mean that he got to do whatever he wanted.

You shifted your weight in your chair, eyebrows knitting together trying to figure the guy out.

"I saw you looking at me over there," Nico nodded his head to the spot where he was at earlier.

"And what about it?" You deadpan, your friend glancing between the two of you.

"I thought you would be interested, but apparently I thought wrong," Nico chuckled, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself out of the chair to walk off. He took a few steps and stopped, turning towards you once more.

"I'm sorry..." He chuckled, running his fingers through his locks that hung just above his eyes, "...you now who I am, right?"

And that was the icing on the cake for you. You don't typically judge a person by the first couple of things they say to you, but he was so unbearably arrogant that it made your skin crawl. He might have been the captain of a successful NHL team, but the fact that he expected you to know who he was was gross. He was a human. He wasn't some god that graced you with his presence like he thought he was apparently.

"Hm, no I don't think so. Who are you again?" You chuckled, but it held zero emotion behind it. The audacity of this guy completely baffled you.

Nico bit his lip, realizing that he somehow struck a nerve within you. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed-" He started, but was cut off by your harsh tone, "Well you know what they say about assuming? It makes an ass out of you."

You collected your purse and your friend as you left a dumbfounded Nico behind at the table, scratching his neck trying to figure out what just happened.

"What was that about?" Your friend nudged you as you made your way out of the bar and down the street.

"He acted like a pretentious bitch, that's what," Pulling your coat tighter around you, you arranged for an uber to pick you and your friend up and take you home, deciding that it was time to call it a night.

-----

A few weeks passed after the encounter with Nico at the bar. It never really crossed your mind much, other than the fact that you roll your eyes every time he was shown during a game that you watched. The whole ordeal just really disappointed you because he was very attractive and seemed to be sweet in all of his interviews and moments with his team, but actions speak louder than words and his actions at the bar were loud and clear.

You were currently walking into a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was near your apartment, preparing to have an intense study session since finals were approaching soon. The cozy ambience felt warm and welcoming, the perfect combination for you.

As you were beginning to zone in on the material before you, the bell from the door sounded, signaling a new person in the shop. Out of habit, you glance up and notice a familiar person making his way to the counter. He didn't seem to notice you at first, so you debated on gathering your stuff and leaving. However, nobody was going to have that kind of hold on you. If you wanted to study in this coffee shop, then that is what was going to happen. Even if there was a douche hockey guy.

You watched as he ordered and gave the barista his card to pay. Since he still hadn't seen you, you decided to shift your attention back to your notes, seeing that's the whole reason you were here.

You thought you got off without having to interact with him, but quickly realized that was not the case when the sound of somebody clearing their throat near you interrupted you studying.

"It's a small world, isn't it?" He flashed an innocent smile, watching as your cheeks heated, much to your displeasure.

"Seems to be," Your answer was short and to the point, hoping he'd get the hint that you were busy.

"Um, is this seat taken?" He motioned toward the seat across the table from you. Maybe he learned his lesson from last time?

"Nope," You moved your bag out of the seat so that he could sit there.

There was a few moments of awkward silence before Nico decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry about the other night. My name is Nico," His outstretched hand hovered above the table, waiting for yours to meet it.

You could have been rude and just ignored him, but there was something about the way that his little dimple indented and the softness of his eyes. He was just a beautiful person.

"Who?" You joked, causing Nico to laugh, his whole body shaking with him.

"I'm teasing, it's nice to formally meet you," Your hand connected with his and you could have swore there were butterflies going rampant in your belly.

"The other night...I don't want to make an excuse for being an ass, but it was right after a win and I still had an adrenaline rush, the boys were around, and I honestly didn't realize how rude it was until I was trying to go to sleep that night. I don't want you to think that the fame went to my head or anything. That couldn't be far from the truth," He fidgeted with the rubber bracelet that decorated his hand, making eye contact with you a few times.

"Hey, we all have our moments. You happened to catch me out of my element. Bars are not quite my scene," You giggled, recalling the nightmare that was the bar that night.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you the other night, ha, but you're beautiful. Like wow," He sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee as he grinned at you trying to control your blush.

"Why thank you," Your laugh caused a train reaction from him.

The two of you talked about so many different things. The topic of how he got into hockey came up, and then what brought you into the bar that night, the conversation just flowing effortlessly. There was never another an awkward moment after that initial one.

Before either of you knew it, 2 hours had passed. Although you should have been studying, the time spent with Nico was nice, something that you could get used to.

"I've really enjoyed this," Nico nudged your leg with his, causing tingles to erupt from the spot where he touched you.

"Me too. You definitely made up for what happened at the bar," You winked, causing him to chuckle in response.

"The team has a Christmas party coming up and I happen to be dateless right now," A cheeky grin formed as he began to gain the courage to ask you on a date.

"Well that's quite the predicament, isn't it?" You knew where he was going with it, but you decided to play along with him.

"Yeah, it is. You wouldn't know how to fix that, would you?" He licked his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth.

"I mean, there's dating apps, fangirls, I'm sure you can find somebody who would love to go with you," Smirking, you finished the last bit of your coffee that was now cold.

"There's also girls that you meet in bars who happen to go to the same coffee shop as you..." Nico trailed off as he watched your response.

"Mr. Hischier, are you asking me to be your date?" You feigned shock, covering your mouth with your hand in attempt to hide your smile.

"Wait, who are you again?" His eyes squinted mischeviously as you rolled your eyes and handed him your phone so that he could put his phone number in.

"I would love to be your date," He punched in his number and felt his phone vibrate in his pocking, signaling that you had texted his phone.

"I've got to go study for my final, so I will see you later," You announced as the two of you gathered your things and walked out together.

Nico gave you a tight side hug, one that was unexpected, but definitely wanted. His cologne was magical and he was just cozy. You walked towards your apartment, a smile etched onto your face as you immediately recall the whole conversation.

Nico glanced at his phone as he headed to his car, deciding to read the text that you had sent him:

"You're pretty cute yourself. Like wow," It read and Nico couldn't help but giggle and smile as he climbed into the driver's side of his car, shaking his head and thanking God that he was able to impress you this time.

*

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#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nj devils #new jersey devils

[sh1-n0bu]

Can u do yandere Beel-obey me with a impulsive/lil crazy mc/reader? In a minute she is calm and in the other she tries to kill a random demon. May u can do him a lil masochist too? Pretty pleaseee 🙏

✿ 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙮 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 ✿

characters: yandere!beel x fem!reader

warnings: generally darker undertones bc it’s a yandere, description of fighting, injuries, mentions of blood, yandere thoughts and acts, masochism, hinted that mc have signs of anger issues and bipolarity, some suggestive things

notes: ‘m so so so sorry for the late response hun. i just couldn’t rlly think of a good scenarios for this one😔 hope it’s to your liking!

everyone experiences bipolarity and anger issues differently. i am no mental health expert and i wrote this with my own anger issues experience and a friend's bipolarity. if some things seem wrong or unlikely then pls let me know.

since mc is literally living with demons, there definitely will be some darker/gruesome moments brushed off as a normal thing bc they’re demons

so with that in mind, being possessive, protective, a bit too overbearing or controlling is seen as a normal thing in a relationship for them

however beel is much more chill and softer when it comes to such things

it’s bc he has great GREAT amount of trust in you plus he knows no sane, lower demon would never dare and approach you

either bc of the pact markings of the 7 demon lords of devildom or

your impulsive self.

yep.

that’s the reason.

at first meeting and the first few days or weeks into mc’s stay in devildom, the brothers either find mc’s impulsiveness and anger issues relatable, amusing or just downright annoying

as for beel he didn’t really care. as long as you didn’t get yourself killed or gravely injured

if anything in the beginning it low-key reminded beel of his twin, belphie

mc’s dark humor, threatening back demons about how they will puck out their teeth, boil it into a soup and shove it down their throat while it’s still steaming hot were first annoying to most of the brothers

however to beel, it just reminded him of how his brother would always snap back at the other demons and more specifically, lucifer

perhaps that little resemblance is what led beel to be protective and possessive over mc

it started out slow and barely noticeable lingering hands over their shoulders, small worried glances, giving them ice package to put over their bruised knuckles

soon it developed into beel constantly hovering around mc, threatening to eat the other lesser demons who even dared to gaze at them to scenting

when scenting your partner in a demon relationship, it usually involves leaving visible marks on each other since demons all have different distinguishable markings

whether it be carving their marks into their s/o’s flesh with their claws, leaving a bloody bite mark or sometimes even their pact markings on each other

however, considering the fact beel is more gentler than the other demons and your a human, he simply decided that cuddling with you for so long to the point that others could smell beel’s sin and scent on you or just draping his large, fluffy orange jacket over you was enough

unfortunately, demons are beings that generally have a darker mindset than humans so one day some lesser, cocky demon mocked you for being “beel’s pet” while you were alone

mc paid that demon back with a broken nose and a broken arm that bent the wrong way (like this __^__🫴)

the terrified screeching of the onlookers and the anguish filled cries of the cocky bastard alongside the blood dripping from the claw marks the demon left on mc called upon the attention of the brothers

when arriving at the scene beel couldn’t help but feel an odd feeling within him

something hot, mushy and dizzying feeling pooling in his stomach, his mind getting hazy, eyes half lidded with the only focus of attention being on you

asmo sensed his brother’s sudden arousal and dragged him off from the crowd, sitting him down in one of the empty classrooms and having a talk with him. helping him calm down and explaining to his little brother that sometimes people get aroused by people who are stronger than them

since that little incident with mc and the cocky demon, beel has never went a day without his mind wandering to the scene he saw

you standing tall and proud with a bloody claw mark running from your chin to your neck with an odd triumphant grin while the lower insect screeched, holding his broken arm

and when he lets his daydreaming go wild, the sixth brother finds himself fantasizing about you sitting on him with the same grin, carving your initials on his chest

the scent of blood oozing around the room, the quiet giggles that would slip out of your lips as he groans and whimpers at the odd yet pleasant feeling

and when his imaginations go further than that, the avatar of sin of gluttony finds himself choking on his breath, pants tightening and the room feeling hotter than the usual

perhaps paying a visit to your room this night won’t be such a bad idea…

#nobu.writes #sub!obey me #sub obey me #obey me x reader #obey me beel x mc #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel headcanons #obey me beel smut #obey me beel x you #beel x mc #beel x reader #om! beelzebub #beelzebub smut #beel x you #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #yandere beelzebub #sub yandere #yandere obey me