#but the words were not coming out as smoothly as the story is in my head

[thepenultimateword]

Keep the King

For my song-story writing challenge! This story is based on the song "King" by "The Amazing Devil", which was submitted by @lqmie! I'll be honest, I secretly really wanted this one, so when the randomizer gave it to me I was ecstatic.

Sorry it’s a day late, I’m mad at myself for not meeting the deadline in time when I’m the one who made it, I also meant this to be MUCH longer, but realized I was getting over ambitious , but I hope everyone still enjoys.

***

Chimera ignored the water’s wailing. Phantom hands dragged on the oars while luminescent waves rocking the rowboat to and fro, threatening to leave the vessel stranded and stagnant enough to flip, but she kept her eyes fixed on the shore, lit in a blue, spectral glow that made the shadows of the trees stretch long. 

“Not long now, your highness.”

“You’ll hang for this!” King Idris shouted in return. He looked a bit like trussed bird on the boat’s floor, hair mussed, cheek to the boards, fine bell sleeves crumpled in scarlet tatters behind his back. He’d been a bit scrappier than she’d imagined such a slender, pampered thing to be. She’d barely managed to drag him past the forestline and into the glammer before his guards caught up. Pinning him long enough to tie and blindfold him had been a whole other mess. The scratches on the backs of her hands prickled like stinging nettle.

 “My soldiers are some of the best trackers in the kingdom; they will hunt you down! You’ll be on the noose faster than you can plead mercy, that is if they don’t tear you apart first!”

“Last I saw, your soldiers were having quite the problem with glammer, sooo…” Chimera heaved against an especially violent pull from the lake’s occupants. An oar almost slipped from her paw side, but she managed to sink her claws into the grooves. “Besides, you’re going back soon anyway. Just wait.”

“Take me back now!”

“No can do.” 

King Idris cranked, his cloth-swathed face in her direction. “I’m giving you an order!”

Chimera clicked their tongue in feigned disappointed. “Sorry, not human.”

“What do you want then? Gold? Food? Do you have a grudge on my father?”

“Nope. I only came for you.”

The boat knocked hard against the head of the dock, and Chimera shook off any lingering fingers from the oars. The king yelped as a couple glowing droplets speckled his cheek though they quickly dulled against his skin. 

“The water won’t hurt you, silly.” She scooped up the rope from the floor and leaped over his head to the dock, tethering the boat fast to the post. “It’s what’s in the water that wants to hurt you.”

Idris only had the chance to make a small strangled sound before Chimera grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him up after her.

“Don’t touch me! Monster!”

Chimera dropped him. She probably shouldn’t have. Adler would ask if he had a giant bruise on his face. Besides, this was a king, not only a human king, her king. Or he would be.Of a sort. Anyway, she’d been charged with keeping him safe here, not with dropping him face first on s hard, splintery dock. But…that word. Monster. It made her insides burn, and her hands moved on impulse. 

“Suit yourself.” A quick flick of her knife and both the blindfold and the bonds around his ankles fluttered to the ground. She kept the hands tied for good measure. “I dont care if you walk.”

Idris rolled onto his side and blinked rapdily at his new surroundings. His eyes widened like silver pieces at the Dead Lake, then like saucers at the sight of dark looming trees and the pitch black spaces in between the trunks. She wondered if he caught the dark’s barely perceptible writhing? Like something alive. But the biggest reaction came when he looked at Chimera. His pale eyes became like twin moons. He’d called her monster based off a glimpse, she must seem truly inhuman now. She was a sight, alright, even among other fae. A lion paw on the top, a goat leg on the bottom, a tufted tail in between. Plus one devilish horn.

“We’re going up there.” Chimera pointed up the cliff face to the rickety house at the top; blessedly, the king’s gaze followed. “I really wouldn’t recommend running off. Especially not at night. The lake will drown you and the wood will eat you.”

Idris leaned his forehead against the planks and slowly shoved himself up onto his knees. He glared up at her. “My soldiers are coming.”

Chimera shrugged. “Then let’s wait for them inside.” She hooked her claws into the knot of his bonds and yanked him upright. “Come on.”

Maybe Idris realized the stupidity of staying out on this rock because he walked forward without argument. Every once in a while his muscles went rigid like he wanted to bolt or jump or turn on her, and Chimera prodded him in the back with the hilt of her knife, but halfway up he was wheezing to much for defiance. By the time they reached the top of the cliff’s stone steps, he seemed to be choking on his own breath.

"Hey." Chimera slapped him a couple times on the back, but it only sent him into a fit of coughing. "Hey, hey, hey."

She pulled him to the dining table and rushed to fill one of their wooden cups with cold tea from the kettle. She only remembered his bound hands as she held out the cup.

"Right." She moved the cup up to his mouth. He drew his lips together into a tight line, though a few spluttering coughs broke threw, sending ripples across the drink's surface. "It's just honey and blackberry. The normal kind. Not fae food. On my honor."

Idris slowly loosened his mouth and took a tentative drag. HIs face unwrinkled a fraction.

After a couple sips, Chimera placed the cup on the table and crouched behind the king to cut ropes on his wrists. He slowly drew his arms in front of himself, flexing his hands and wrists a couple times before folding them in his lap, the shredded ends of his sleeves swathing his knuckles less elegantly than this morning.

"Did they ever make you do anything in that castle?" Chimera said before she could think better of it.

"I tire out easily," Idris snapped with the defensiveness of one already hyperaware of his own limitations and others' thoughts on the matter. "I always have. There are more important things than traipsing up mountains and hitting people with swords."

Maybe so. As far as she knew King Hyacinthe didn't do much of either. News from the deep wood only brought word of sweet torture and cruel revelries, the fae court's specialties.

"Do you want something to eat?" Chimera said.

Idris went even stiffer than he already was. "Why?"

"Becaaaause we've been traveling since this morning?"

"When you kidnapped me?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it kidnapping." Chimera plopped into the seat next to him.

"Oh? Pray tell then. What would you call it?"

"A temporary retrieval. It's not like I just snatched you to snatch you; we've been expecting you, see?" She motioned to the thick pile of skins in the corner. "That's your bed there in the corner. And there is food for 3 stockpiled in the cellar. We even scrounged you up some clothes for the stay."

"Oh, how magnanimous, that fixes absolutely everything because what I've really been concerned about is what I'm going to wear."

"Well, obviously I couldn't come to you, so I was sent to bring you here."

Idris stared at her incredulously. "Sent? By who?"

"King Hyacinthe." Idris continued to stare. No recognition. "The king. The other king. Fae king. My brother and I were specifically assigned. It's a very important job, you know, and not easily acquired."

Idris held up his hands, trembling a little with the rising register of his voice. "Job? Assigned? Is this a political abduction? Are the fae planning a siege on my kingdom? Are there going to be peace negotiations?"

So he didn't know. Chimera had wondered. When a changeling was planted as an infant it often wouldn't know its true identity. But usually, they figured it out. There were only so many unexplainable things that could happen--accidental glammering, elemental phenomenons, new appendages--before someone took notice. But Idris...the way he spoke. It was like a human.

"No, nothing like that," Chimera said.

The human kingdom was already covered 25 years ago. Time for him to know.

"This is an individual issue. You're late."

Idris furrowed his brow.

"You should have manifested years ago, maybe it's best that you didn't, but now you're king. And obviously, you've been doing an awful job on your own, so if you're ever going to change, you're going to need a mentor."

Idris folded his hands tightly together and rolled back his shoulders, staring Chimera down with a cold regality that couldn’t counterfeited. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chimera’s stomach dropped a little. She’d known their situations weren’t the same, but she’d still stupidly thought… Nevermind. None of this was about her. Alder would be depending on her to get their plans in motion.

"Haven’t you felt anything? It's like an itch. An itch so bad you want to claw out of your own skin.”

“I don’t have dealings with magic or magic folk. I have nothing to do with your witchcraft.”

Chimera snorted. “You might want to bend that person ideal.”

“I do not and will not. I demand an immediate explanation of the fae monarchy’s intentions for my kingdom and myself. I will not be cooperating until you do so.”

How did such a pale, and fragile thing pull off such commanding airs? Like he shrugged away his very body and exposed the core of his being. Well, she had to say it straight out sooner or later.

She took a deep breath and then locked eyes with the changeling king. “King Idris, the entire fae court, has been waiting for your ascension. Because only you, a changling raised as human royalty and crowned their king, can make the human kingdom ours.”

#fantasy #fantasci #pen's song-story writing challenge extravaganza #creative writing #short story #fiction #songs and words #songsandwords #fantasci writing #fantasy writing #fae #changeling #monster #royalty #I can't believe I missed the deadline for my own challenge #I just am such a procrastinator #and then i got busy #and then i fell asleep while writing trying to get it done on time #and so now I've spent all day working on it #but the words were not coming out as smoothly as the story is in my head #I've literally had this idea planned for over a week

[filthgarbage86]

I cannot stop thinking about Eddie calling you nicknames. Not even just the regular ones, like baby, honey, sweetheart, baby cakes, though those ones still make your heart race. Imagine the day he figures out you like other nicknames. And once he figures out one, he’s testing them all to see which one gets him the biggest response.

Imagine being at school, you’re sitting next to him in class and suddenly your teacher is calling on you to answer a question. You’re always fast to clam up when you’re called on but luckily this time you really did know the answer to whatever the teacher was asking. You give a clear, straight answer and your teacher commends you on your work, “Good work, y/n” and you just hear next to you, barely above a whisper “that’s my good girl”. You’re sure that you’re more red than a tomato.

Imagine you’re at hellfire club with everyone and you’re getting hyped up before a session and he is just sitting there in his chair, looking at you with big, bright eyes, noting how excited you seemed. When you take your seat next to him, he just comments “seems like my doll is ready to play. Let’s get started.” Again, you’re a mess and a half, red as can be but you’re still able to control yourself a bit.

The last straw is over the weekend, at a party at Steve’s with everyone around and you wish you could crawl into a hole when it happens. You’re having a great time, you’re chatting with the crew, Robin is sharing stories about this guy that came into the store today and was recommending the worst movies to her as though he had any taste. Everything was going really smoothly and then, Eddie comes over. He slides right next to you on the floor that you had been sat at in the circle. He’s laughing at something Robin said, placing a hand on your thigh and rubbing comforting circles to show his presence. He smells like weed, alcohol, and his cologne and you’re already gone. Then, knowing exactly what he’s doing, he just leans into your ear like he’s telling a secret - “hiya bunny, how’s my sweet baby doing?” and you all but whimper. Bunny. You don’t know why that’s gotten the reaction it did but you immediately regret it the moment it slipped. The music felt like it went quiet and you felt like you had multiple pairs of eyes on you. Eddie’s eyes look like a lightbulb just went off behind them.

“Ohhh what’s this, bunny? Do you like being called that?”

It’s the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol. It couldn’t possibly-

“Awe what’s wrong bunny? You embarrassed? Don’t be. This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. You’re so good to me, bunny, letting me know something like this”

You absent-mindedly are clenching and rubbing your thighs under his touch while he’s chuckling low and you wish you were anywhere else right now. You had been avoiding eye contact this entire time until he took your chin and jaw in your hand and with a gentle but firm touch, he turned your head towards him

“Just say the word, and we can get out of here baby. I’ll treat you like a good little bunny too. All you have to do is look at me in the eye, and say so.”

Before you can even respond, Robin let’s out a long sigh and groan “guys, come on, either get a room or get a clue”. You decide at this moment to finally look at Eddie. His eyes have a smirk behind them and you’re swimming in chocolate.

“Well sweetheart? What do you say?”

“i thought…” you weren’t sweetheart right now, you wanted the other name again. You needed to hear him say it again.

He lifts your chin up again to look at him, firmly

“Speak up, Princess? What do you want to do?”

“I want to be a good bunny-“ he’d be pulling you out the door in a spilt second and you know it.

I just- I want to be called names like that by this man so badly. And you KNOW he would.

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #nicknames #you KNOW he would talk to you so sweetly

[marvelouslizzie]

You're My Desire - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers' date, but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes' arms.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, first date, public sex, ripped clothing, teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.5K

A/N: We really don't have an excuse for this one. We just wanted 40s Bucky to have a good time, you know? This is basically smut with little bit of plot.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's also a Bucky Barnes writer and her stories are amazing.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it's hate. That's never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Even though you really didn’t want to, you find yourself on a double date with your best friend. She literally begged you to come because she promised she would bring someone for her date’s best friend and apparently she really doesn’t wanna disappoint the handsome soldier.

You're shocked, though, when you arrive at the fair and see Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in the flesh waiting for you two at the gate.

You were pretty sure she brought you here for Bucky Barnes but it turns out your date is actually Steve Rogers, aka Captain America himself.

You don't know what to do at first, awkwardly watching your friend hugging Bucky as if they knew each other for ages. Even though they met just a day ago. Steve extends his hand politely, which you immediately shake.

It doesn’t take long for you to go inside the fun fair together while chatting casually. Your friend, Cassie, starts asking questions about the war. She loves front-line stories, but Bucky doesn’t seem like he enjoys telling them.

Steve, on the other hand, is very excited to do it, answering all of Cassie's questions as you quietly watch them. You wonder why you said yes to this date. You've never been into soldiers and even less into war discussions. But you love your friend very much even when she ignores you.

You find yourself looking at Bucky while Cassie and Steve start to chat and exchange stories. He kinda seems amused by this development. You shrug looking in his direction, waiting for him to say something. After all, you are both already bored and your friends don't even seem to care or notice you anymore in the first place.

Bucky just smiles and then tries to change the subject. You think he actually handles that topic change pretty smoothly and it sticks for a while until Cassie gets bored of talking about books.

You remark Bucky's sad face, but you don't say anything. Instead, you subtly start to walk slower, hoping he'll do the same. As Cassie keeps talking to Steve, Bucky notices you are getting behind and just slows down a little.

"You're okay? Are your legs hurting?" Bucky asks concerned while looking at her shoes.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just got tired of the war stories, that’s all.” You keep walking slowly.

"Me, too." He sighs. "It's a never-ending subject at this point."

“Well, where there's life there's hope.” You quote the Hobbit instinctively. You hold on to the hope, one day you won’t have to talk about this war.

Bucky gasps, looking at you in a way you never experienced before. "What did you say?"

“I just said where there's life there's hope.” You repeat, surprised by the way he probably recognized the quote. People usually have no idea what you are referring to. Not him though.

"You're a fan? Oh god!"

That starts your actual conversation with Bucky Barnes. It turns out he’s a big bookworm himself. He reads as much as he can, always buying more books that he manages to read.

You didn't even realize how close you are until your shoulders slightly brush. You blush when he smiles, clearly not minding. Still, you feel very conscious about your closeness and quickly look toward your friend, feeling guilty that you are enjoying the company of her date, but she doesn’t seem to care one bit. On the contrary, she’s actually holding Steve Rogers’ arm while talking and laughing.

"You're very beautiful." You hear Bucky murmur shily.

His compliment catches you off guard. You were about to apologize on behalf of Cassie. Yet you find yourself blushing.

"And you love reading. I am a lucky man. I get to talk to you."

“I could say the same thing myself, Sergeant. I much rather talk about books instead of the war.”

"Then you got the right company." Bucky smiles and looks around. "Should we get some ice cream?"

“That would be amazing.” And that’s how you end up separated from Cassie and Steve. Bucky informs them about their plan and then leaves without waiting for them.

You spend the next hour talking and walking around the entire fair. James even won a teddy bear for you. Once in a while both of you act like you wanna find Steve and Cassie, but you definitely don’t care.

"I don't remember the last time I felt so comfortable and good with someone."

“I’m glad I’m not boring the shit out of you.” You know it’s not ladylike to speak this way, but you feel comfortable around him. It’s crazy when you consider you just met him maybe two hours ago.

Bucky smiles. "I can say the same. Steve says I'm quite boring."

“He’s quite boring himself.”

"Is he?" He snorts.

“Yeah. Who knew Captain America would be into war stories?”

"Doesn't the name say it?" He continues in the same joking tone.

“The name suggests he’s heroic and boring but he’s more boring and less heroic than expected. Stealing his best friend's date doesn’t scream honorable to me.”

Bucky is shocked to see her indirectly standing up for him. "Maybe I stole his date, though."

“His date was uninterested from the start and just being nice to her best friend.”

"Is she still uninterested?"

“In him? Yes.” You act like you don’t understand what he is actually asking.

"Well, the feelings are mutual. About the date and now…"

“You were uninterested in Cassie?” You say it in a way that shows you don’t believe him.

"Wasn't it obvious?"

“Nope.” It definitely wasn’t when they hugged each other the moment they arrived.

"I was trying to be polite. She insisted on this… meeting because I helped her out. I was relieved I could bring Steve."

“She sounded very interested in you until Captain Rogers started with war stories.”

"She was staring at his… back ever since we arrived."

You burst out laughing and he joins you right after. It sets the tone for the rest of the night and makes you notice you both don’t give a shit.

*

"I want to show you something," you say after a few seconds and quickly drag him after you until you reach a darker alley close to the last attraction. You drop the teddy bear carefully at your feet. "Hi."

“Hi.” He still seems a bit confused, but it’s so cute. He looks at the teddy bear and then his eyes turn back to your face. You can’t help but smile.

"You're so cute. Has anyone told you that?" You smile in return.

He acts like thinking for a second. “No, not really. Just cute?” He fishes for more.

"And smart." You touch his chest shily. "And kind."

“Hmm, those are not what people notice first.” He moves a little bit closer. “You have something…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, his thumb brushes the corner of your lips. You wait for him to wipe off whatever you had on your face before opening your mouth and letting your tongue touch his finger shamelessly.

You watch Bucky’s eyes widen out of surprise. He didn't expect that at all. You grab his hand, bringing his finger inside your mouth, and notice how his breathing quickens. Yet he doesn’t stop you.

You let your tongue play for a few seconds until you let his finger go with a small bite. He lets out the lowest moan but not only do you hear it, but you also love it.

"Wow, I…" He doesn't know what to say, all red and excited.

“You what? Do you feel uncomfortable? Excited? I mean, I can stop if you want.”

In response, brave and happy, Bucky kisses you. His tongue is already on your bottom lip asking for permission, which you grant by opening your mouth without realizing it.

The kiss isn’t shy like you expected, and he definitely knows how to kiss. The way his lips and tongue move makes you want more, right then and there.

Your hands go to his neck as you let yourself enjoy the kiss even more. You keep kissing until you feel breathless. When Bucky breaks it, he doesn’t move away. His forehead touches yours as you try to catch your breath.

"This was…"

“I wanna do something if that’s okay…” You say while suddenly getting on your knees. You are wearing your favorite nylon stockings and you're sure they are gonna get ripped, but you don't care.

Bucky thinks he's daydreaming because how can this happen? How?

"What? What are you doing?"

“I think you know what I am doing, Sergeant. Just tell me to stop if you don’t want it, okay?” Your hands move to his belt but you wait for a reaction first.

"Stop. That's not… you don't have to do this. We are having a great time anyway."

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Is that okay for you?”

He can only nod, totally shocked and excited at the same time.

You unbuckle him slowly. Even though you are in a public place, you're in no hurry. You unzip him while looking into his eyes. When you finally take him out of his pants, he seems speechless. He’s already hard, but as soon as you start to move your hand, he gets rock hard after maybe four pumps.

"Jesus, you're so pretty. You look like a doll on your knees."

You smile proudly. “Tell me what I look like when I do this,” you say before taking him inside your mouth.

He closes his eyes, groaning. Your mouth is so wet and warm. You take it slow at first. Your mouth moves gently while you swirl your tongue around the head.

"Please." You hear him whisper, his left hand resting against the wall behind him.

You move your mouth away from him just to ask “Please what?” Your lipstick is already a little smudged.

"Oh god, keep going. Please, you're such a pretty sight."

“Tell me how I look when you're inside my mouth and I'll continue, promise.” You wink and remind him he still hasn’t fulfilled your request.

"Like a dream. Like a goddess."

“Hmm…” You go back to taking him inside your mouth without making another comment. This time, you move a bit faster than before and start using your hand.

"Your mouth will be the death of me."

That makes you smile but you don’t stop, moving your hand and mouth at the same time, hoping for a good reaction. His hand finds its way to your hair, wrapping it enough to pull a little. That encourages you to go faster, in need for a tighter grip. And you get it: soon, he wraps more of your hair around his whole fist, moaning your name.

“I think I'm gonna…” He sounds so breathy. “You should pull away.”

You look at him, acknowledging his warning, but showing him you are ignoring it. You keep moving fast, making sure your tongue flicks around the right spot every time until he spills inside your mouth. It’s a lot more than you are used to, but you still keep going until he completely empties himself. You take your mouth off, looking into his eyes before swallowing.

"No." He covers his eyes while groaning. "You can't do this to me, doll. Jesus…"

“Do what?” You innocently ask.

He doesn't answer you, taking you by the back of the neck and kissing you sloppily. You don’t get a chance to warn him about the taste and he doesn’t seem to care one bit. He groans into your mouth when he feels your hands on his ass and breaks the kiss just to suck on your neck.

Then you feel his hands between your bodies, trying to pull up his pants again.

You break the kiss to ask: “What are you doing?”

"I'm putting on my pants," he sounds like a kid. "And I wanna get on my knees for you, too."

“Maybe I want something else that doesn’t require you to put your pants on.”

He nods, without understanding what you mean. "Alright. I'll just-" He drops his right hand until it reaches her skirt. "Is it okay?" You nod with a smile. Even though it’s not what you meant, it’s fine.

His fingers immediately go to your underwear and push it aside.

"Fuck me. Look at that." You are really wet and his curses don't help either. "Soaked. Is that for me, doll?"

“No, it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me.” You joke.

You feel his fingers stopping on your slit as he lifts his head. "What did you say?"

“I said it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me. You know that gets the girls wet.” You hope he won’t be offended by this. It’s just a silly joke.

In response, Bucky pushes a finger inside you quickly, his lips curling into a smirk. "Should I start talking about war, too? Bet that would get you even wetter."

You let out a deep breath, relieved. Thank God he isn’t offended. “That would get me dry as a desert, Sergeant Barnes.”

"Should I dye my hair then?" He snorts, moving his finger faster.

“Maybe you should get a shield. It would definitely look better on you.”

"A shield, huh?" Bucky adds another finger, trying to scissor them inside you a couple of times. "Is it too much?"

“Nope,” you say after a moan. “It’s not enough.”

"Fuck, you…" he closes his eyes. "You want another?"

“I want something else.” You smile, hoping him to understand this time.

"Yeah? Like what?"

You grab his cock and gently rub it without saying a word. You are not surprised he’s hard because his erection has been pressed on your leg for a while.

"Fuck. You want my cock, baby?"

“Yeah. Why do you think I didn’t let you pull your pants back up?”

"I don't-" He moans. "I didn't think."

“Come on. You are making me wait while I’m soaking your fingers.”

"Wanna make you…" Bucky interrupts himself by adding a third finger, his other hand going to your clit. "Happy."

“Fuck.” You throw your head back, that felt so good.

"You like this?" He rubs a little more, paying attention to your body. His fingers inside you keep the same pace, though. He isn't slowing down now even if it's the end of the world.

“Yeah, that.” You breathe out. You already feel your legs shaking and you're afraid your knees might give out, but it feels so good, you can’t seem to focus on the concerns.

"Hold on to me."

You put your hands on his shoulders and it helps you relax a bit more. After that, your orgasm comes crashing in like a big wave that leaves you breathless. He doesn't stop moving his fingers until you finish coming, then he slowly pulls them out, making sure to lick them before kissing you.

“You are such a dirty soldier, Sergeant Barnes,” you say with a smile.

"What is dirty about this?" He shrugs. "I'm a good soldier, of course."

“Doing this in a dark alley with me and licking your fingers clean like that. Very good soldier, indeed.”

"Ihm." He buries his head right onto your shoulder and breathes in. "Thank you."

“For what?” You find yourself kissing his hair while asking the question.

"For this evening and this. Thank you for trusting me."

“You are something else, Bucky,” you say while caressing his hair.

"Hmm?"

You kiss his hair and his ear, then move your lips to his neck. “You can thank me later. We are not done yet.”

"Changed your mind?" He smiles. "Want me on my knees after all?

“Maybe later.” You wink. “Now don’t act like you don’t know what I want because I know you want it, too.”

He freezes. "Wait, you're serious?"

“Of course I am serious. Just don’t finish inside, okay?”

He looks at you again all serious. "Are you sure? We don't have to, I can use my tongue."

“Don’t worry, it’s not my first time and yeah, I’m sure unless you don’t want to.”

Bucky looks at you with puppy eyes. "Uhm, it's my first time."

“Oh god.” Your eyes widen. “I… didn’t consider… that possibility. I’m sorry.”

Bucky starts laughing at your worried expression and kisses your cheek. "My first time with a bookworm doll."

You punch his shoulder. “You worried me!”

That makes him laugh even harder, and you can't help but smile. Because he's extra beautiful like this.

"Why? Do you have something against innocent boys, ma'am? Shame!"

“No, nothing against it. Absolutely would love to teach and corrupt but wouldn’t want that to be your first time.”

"You don't want to take advantage of me, huh? Such a good girl." He surprises you by suddenly lifting you and helping you wrap your legs around his torso.

“Would you like me to take advantage of you?” You kiss his jaw and cheeks.

"Fuck, yes. Yes."

“Then you have my permission to take advantage of me, too.”

He doesn't ask you again if you're sure. Instead, he lifts his right hand to your blouse and starts unbuttoning it as fast as he can. He's so impatient he even manages to rip a button. You just watch him work and smile, hoping the gentleman side of Bucky finally stops holding him back.

He groans at the sight of your hard nipples and quickly leans in to take one in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper while he uses his tongue to play with your nipple. It feels so good you don't even notice when his hand drops under your skirt. Until you hear the ripping sound.

“What the fuck?” You can’t believe he's just ripped your nylon stockings. They are so hard to find and so expensive!

"Whha?" He doesn't even take his mouth off your nipple as he speaks.

“Do you know how expensive those stockings are?” Your surprise is so clear in your voice. “You owe me a pair of nylon stockings, Sargeant.”

"They were in the way, baby."

“Getting impatient?” You mock a little.

He pushes his hips a little more. "Can't you feel?"

“You still owe me a pair.”

"What about these?" His hands are now on her panties. "How many do I need to buy you so I can rip these off?"

“Just one pair, but if you wanna rip that one, too, this cycle might never end.”

He sighs, contemplating, but he finally decides not to, only pushing your underwear aside. "How do you want it?"

“What do you mean?”

Bucky takes another step until your back barely brushes against the wall. "How do you like this? The sex."

“Don’t try to act all kind and push aside what you actually want to do. That’s how I want it.”

"Do you uhm… like it fast or slow? The pace I mean." He's slowly pushing inside you while he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“That’s exactly what I meant. Do it however you want and we will see how I like it. Don’t be too gentle like this.”

"Talk to me, okay?" He's halfway inside you now, staying still for a few seconds as he leaves small kisses on your neck.

“Oh, I will, don’t worry, handsome. No one can stop me from complaining if I don’t like something.”

"Good girl." He tries different types of thrusts and angles at first, wanting to see what you respond to the most.

“Fuck. Why do you keep saying that?” She moves her hips to make him thrust faster.

"Because you're my good girl. Dirty too." He moans when he feels you. "God, you want it faster, baby?"

“Yes, yes, I do. Please. Move faster.”

And he does, his grip on your ass tightening as he starts thrusting just the way you want. "Fuck, you're soaked. You feel so good around me."

“You feel good, too.” You moan in between words. “And you are strong. Really strong,” you remark because he doesn’t look tired while holding you.

But he doesn't seem to acknowledge that. "I'm so fucking lucky, Jesus." He groans when he feels your lips sucking on his collarbone.

“You didn’t think your double date would end this way, huh?”

"Deep inside you? Not a chance." He smiles, speeding up.

“Maybe deep inside someone else.” You tease on purpose.

Bucky immediately stops thrusting. "What?"

“I was just joking about how we were meant to be on a date with other people.” You hate that you can’t shut your mouth sometimes.

"Oh," he nods, restarting to move. "Well, I can assure you, he wouldn't have done this tonight." He jokes back.

“Fuck me against the wall like this?”

"Fuck you at all. But especially like this. And the language?" He laughs. "Never."

“Oh, so honorable of him.” You keep joking. “Poor Cassie.”

His right-hand flies behind your head to protect it as his thrusts become way too quick. "Fuck. You feel like heaven, I swear."

“God, how do you do that?” You are surprised that he can carry you with one hand. “Are you sure you aren’t a super soldier yourself?”

Bucky shakes his head amused. "That will go straight to my ego."

“You're carrying me with one hand while protecting my head with the other, and you keep fucking me at the same time. I think it should go straight to your ego.”

He groans. "Lower one of your hands now."

“Lower it where exactly?” You don’t understand what he wants.

His hand moves from the back of her head for a few seconds just to bring her fingers to her clitoris. "Right here. Can you rub this for me?"

“Ohh.” You finally understand what he’s trying to do, so you listen and start rubbing yourself while his hand goes back to your head.

"Good, good girl. Look at you." He doesn't even realize how deep his thrusts are because his focus is on your fingers.

“Oh god… It feels so good.” You have never done something like this before. No public sex, no touching yourself during sex, no good girl whispers next to your ear. They all make you feel dizzy.

"Yeah? Just good?" His mouth finds your breasts this time, and you just know he's leaving a few marks there by the way he sucks on your skin.

“You wanna hear how good it makes me feel?”

"Ihmm."

“Oh, you are even dirtier than you are showing, aren’t you, Sergeant Barnes?”

He looks up immediately. "Say that again." He demands.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

"Fuck, you need to rub faster."

“You need to fuck me harder.” You say while listening to his order.

"Harder?" He repeats, shocked, not expecting that in the slightest. But he does as you demand in a heartbeat, biting his tongue because it feels so good.

You have a hard time holding back your reaction because it feels just perfect. You can feel your orgasm approaching.

“Shit, you need to cover my mouth,” you say as quickly as possible.

"Just use me. Bite my shoulder," he suggests quickly, keeping the pace exactly the same.

You wanna say no, because you don’t wanna hurt him but there’s no other choice left. You sink your teeth in somewhere between his neck and shoulder and try to muffle yourself. The orgasm hits you so hard that you are afraid someone is gonna hear you even like this.

"Fuck," he groans, the pain feeling amazing as you keep coming, your legs wrapping even more tightly around his ass.

“Please, don’t stop,” you manage to say and go back to biting him, very aware of the hickey you are giving him, but that doesn’t stop you because you don’t want to get caught like this.

"Can't stop." At this point you wonder how no one noticed you by now. The sound of your skin touching and your groans are not quite silent. But even if they did, you know you wouldn't stop. How could you?

"Keep rubbing, I want you to find pleasure again."

“Again?” You sound shocked because you've literally just come.

"Again." He tries to lift one of your legs a little more. "Please."

“I don’t think I can, but keep going, okay?” You already came twice in a short amount of time. How much more can you do?

"Well, I think you can." He smiles. "Gonna mark me up, baby?"

“I think I already did.” You can see your teeth marks on his neck. You are sure it will turn into purple really soon.

"I'm your property now?" The hand he has on the back of your head quickly grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist.

“Are you?” You like the sound of that and how he’s pulling your hair.

"I am." He's frantically thrusting in and out of you. "Rub faster."

“Fuck,” you mumble while rubbing yourself. You aren’t sure if it’s gonna do anything, but it feels good. “Can I keep you then? You know, kidnap you and hide you in my apartment so you don’t have to go back to the war. We can just do this every day.”

"Fuck, do it." He smiles. "I dare you."

“Should I tie you up so it looks more realistic?” And suddenly all that rubbing starts to feel different, more pleasurable.

"On your bed? Go ahead."

You laugh at how easily he’s convinced, but your laugh is interrupted by a moan.

"Gonna come for me, dolly?"

“I am not sure.” You struggle to speak. “It feels like it.”

He pulls your hair hard. "Please, please."

“You beg so beautifully, how can I say no?” It’s not like your body is saying no, either.

When you finish coming again, you watch with your eyes semi-closed as James takes himself out without dropping you even a little and comes right on your thighs and ripped stockings. You feel the warmth of his come while you both are trying to catch your breath.

"This was… wow."

“This is a hell of a first date.” You find yourself giggling. Did all that really happen? The soreness between your legs says yes.

Bucky slowly puts you down. "You think?" He snorts.

“Oh yeah, very memorable.” You notice that your stockings are completely ruined so you have no other choice but to take them off.

"Fuck, you're dripping." He doesn't look like he's sorry and he can't say he is, either. He's actually very proud.

“Yeah, I am aware.” You laugh while taking them off and using them like a washcloth to clean yourself up.

"You have no idea how lovely the sight is." He winks at you while zipping up his pants.

You bite your bottom lip while looking at him. “Likewise. You look satisfied, Sargeant. Did something happen while you were gone?” You pull your skirt down.

"I got touched by an angel."

You laugh. “So cheesy. You are lucky that you are a bookworm. A really good-looking one, who is also good at bed even though we didn’t even need one.”

"Next time. Maybe we'll break it." He sounds so confident, but not demanding at all at the same time.

“When are you going back?” You find yourself asking. If he’s promising you a second time, you are gonna take it.

"In one week."

You make a sad face without realizing then take a deep breath to help yourself focus on the positive side. “That’s a lot of sex.”

He immediately lifts your chin and presses a kiss on your forehead. "I was joking. We got two months."

“You are such a liar.” You punch him in his shoulder.

Which only makes him laugh. "You like it hard."

But your attention is on his neck, on the spot you bit so hard. The purple spot looks really old and mostly faded already.

"No comment?" He snorts. "We're gonna have a lot of fun for sure."

“I have a question.” Your eyes are still on that same spot. “Does Steve heal quickly?”

"Why? You plan on kicking his ass?"

“Just answer the question, please.”

"Yeah, he does." Bucky shrugs. "One of the perks of the serum."

“Even the small scars or purple spots?”

"Yes." Bucky doesn't even think about it. "Which is great. Why? You think your friend will want to know?"

You don’t comment about his question, instead, touch the spot you bit down so hard. “You are nearly completely healed. My mark has vanished.”

"What?" He asks, confused.

“I bit down on your neck so hard, it was dark red. Now it’s gone.”

"I don't get purple easily. Never did. I guess you have to suck a little more." He smiles leaning in to kiss you again.

“I fully bit you,” you say before he does.

"I noticed." He giggled.

Since he doesn’t take it that seriously you let it go. “Fine. I will prove it to you later.”

"Prove what?" He gives you another kiss.

“That you heal quickly.” You try to fix yourself while you kiss him back.

"Oh, I feel healed every time I look at you."

“You are so cheesy.” Yet you can’t help but laugh. “How do I look?”

"Good boy version or?" He pauses dramatically.

“Both.”

"Good boy version first: you look like an angel." He smiles cheekily.

You snort. “I’m asking if I look decent, Bucky.”

"Angel,” he repeats before dropping his hands to your ass and squeezing. "They won't know you've got fucked against the wall if that's what you're afraid of. But you look strangely content and happy."

“That’s because I had a good date.” You scrunch your nose cheekily.

"Me too. The best date ever."

“Should we try to find our best friends?”

"Oh, sure." Bucky leans in to get the teddy bear before handing it to you.

"Ready for more war stories?"

“No, I’m not.” You hug the bear. “I gotta wash this.”

Bucky snorts. "Poor bear. Got traumatized."

“Traumatized and all dirty.” You don’t notice how close you are to Bucky until you feel him next to you. “Should we keep this a secret from our friends?”

"Do you want to?"

“I meant the having sex in a dark alley part. I don’t think my friend needs to know that.” She definitely shouldn’t know all this.

"We should totally keep that part to ourselves." He smiles.

“I could say that you kissed me or something. I don’t know. Is that too forward for the first date?”

"There's no such thing. You can say I kissed you."

“I was genuinely asking.” You smile. “I normally don’t even kiss on the first date.”

Bucky giggles, his hand squeezing your hip. "I am a lucky gal." You smile back at him until you notice a familiar face.

“Oh, is that Steve?” You point to the tall blonde guy.

"Yes, that's him. But where is your friend?"

“Right in front of him. I can see her dress.” It’s sticking on the side.

"Oh, yes. Gonna drive you home after that if that's alright with you." He sounds so casual like he already did that many times, but you notice something else.

“You have a car and you didn’t think of using it until now?”

"Oh." Redness takes over his cheeks. "I got… distracted."

"You are such an idiot." You start to giggle while walking toward your friends.

"Your idiot now. You got stuck with me for at least two months." He laughs.

"Just for two months?" You test his intentions.

"I can't assume you'd want to wait for me, can I?"

"I will tell your best friend to bring you back home in one piece. He's the hero after all. That should be easy, right?"

Bucky looks at her with a soft expression before kissing her hair. "Guess you really got stuck with me."

"Oh shit, Steve saw you kissing my hair." It’s going to be hard to keep this thing between you two.

"Does it bother you?"

“No, no, no.” You quickly try to explain. “It’s just I’m worried that they might think the worst of me. I mean… questioning our closeness.”

"I dare them." She is surprised by how serious and determined he is as he speaks.

“I would kiss you right now if I could.”

"I won't stop you." He giggles like a kid.

“Our friends are,” you whisper and look at your best friend, who is coming toward you. Cassie is holding Steve’s arm proudly.

"Oh, hello," Steve says. "Where have you been?"

"Here and there." Bucky shrugs. "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!" Cass immediately giggles, joining the conversation. "He has the best, best stories. What about-" She cuts herself off when she notices your appearance. "What happened to your stockings?"

“Oh.” You blush a little, thinking about how they got ruined. “I tripped and ruined them. They looked so horrible I had to take them off completely.”

"Yes, they got really dirty," Bucky confirms with the biggest grin Steve has seen in ages.

"Oh, really?" He lifts his eyebrow. "What a shame."

“Yeah. Sergeant Barnes promised me a new pair. What a gentleman he is.”

"A gentleman indeed." Steve shakes his head, well aware of what you two have done.

You bite your lip and give Bucky a look, hoping at least Cassie has no idea. You are sure the three of you can keep a secret. For now…

You may wanna read the next part: Trust In What Tomorrow Brings

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #40s!bucky barnes x reader #40s bucky barnes #40s bucky barnes x reader #my stories

[sloaneispunk]

“Too sweet”

dbf!joel x you

joel miller, you knew joel when you were younger, all you could remember was that he left before he really did make an impact in your life. you didn’t remember much of him while growing up, it was just a passing thing, you thought.

that all changed when joel decided to come back years later.

( p.s. guys, this is a whole ass story but i think you’ll like it )

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Part One

“honey, come help me set the table.” your father asked from the kitchen as you raced from your room.

“i’m here. whatd’ya need help with?” you said.

today was the start of the holiday break for everyone, it was also a special tradition for your dad to host a barbecue for all the family mutuals to gather ‘round, and exchange life stories on the past months.

“dad, why do we have this every year? i don’t even know half these people. they’re like twice my age.” you groaned, spreading the table mat smoothly on the wooden table.

“you’ll have fun, plus sarah’s comin’ it’s a good time to catch up with her. you haven’t seen each other for like-what? 6 years?”

“i don’t even think she remembers me.”

“oh, she does, honey. i bet mr. miller misses you too. you remember him?”

oh.

oh?

joel miller?

then, you were briefly interrupted by the quickened knocks on your door. “go on, dear, i’ll get the door.” your father instructed.

indistinct conversations were heard as more and more people walked through the door, being warmly invited in by your father. most of them weren’t foreign faces, majority had been over before for these family events.

as you were placing the cartons of beer on the table, a tough hand came to swoop the alcohol in your hands away.

“hey, i was just-”

“hiya, darlin’ ” the man said, cutting you off.

you looked up at the man, expecting an old menacing pervert friend of your dad’s.

“hey…” you replied, not sparing him from a very obnoxious suspicious look.

he must have sensed the unsettling feeling you had and immediately made up for it. “i’m sorry, darlin’, where are my manners?” he chuckled, “i’m mr. miller, i didn’t think you’d forget me that easy.”

“oh… hey mr. miller. yeah, no sorry, i didn’t recognise you at all.” you managed to breathe out, breath getting all caught up in your throat.

joel flashed you a smile, shaking his head in disbelief. “don’t tell me i’ve aged that bad, makin’ me feel old, kid.”

old? how old was he?

“yeah, it’s been a while, mr. miller. you look great though.”

he did. joel miller had aged like fine wine. ash gray coating his brown locks perfectly, his honey-brown eyes reflected by the sunlight that beamed through the window, face perfectly sculpted, leaving him looking like a greek god.

joel took a swipe at his beer, chugging the alcohol down before he shot you a reply. “really? i’m already 53, didn’t think you had somethin’ for this old man.” he joked.

you nearly choked at that. “you look pretty too, darlin’, really pretty. look out for yourself tonight, many other men around, wouldn’t want them to be seein’ya like this.” he said, pointing to your sundress that you had on specially for tonight’s barbecue.

after that, you lingered in the words he said even as he walked out, heading outside to join your father and his friends.

“holy shit… joel miller is hot.” you muttered out to yourself, gathering what was left of your dignity, pacing around the house to trace your thoughts.

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Part Two

you thought hard about what joel said, sure you wanted to look your best, but he did have a point. but was there something else to it? was he jealous?

you threw over a sweater before heading outside, joining the rest of your family as they ate and talked to the others.

it was mainly boring but the thing that got you going through the evening were the quick glances that you swore you got from joel. it was subtle, but obvious enough for only you to notice.

“y/n? oh my god, is that really you?” a high pitched squeal came from a distance, making you whip your head around.

“sarah! it’s been so long!” you greeted the girl as she wrapped her arms around you. “holy shit, you’re all grown up!”

“i could say the same thing about you, look at you, jesus, you look amazing.” she gawked. “oh- dad! it’s y/n! can you believe it?”

your eyes grew wide. not again… just as fast as sarah appeared, joel was immediately pulled next to her, the pair now standing in front of you as you flashed them an awkward smile.

do you ignore him? play it cool?

“right… hey, kid. haven’t seen ya in a long time, how are ya?” joel asked.

it was as if he hadn’t been flirting with you in the kitchen earlier. what was going on?

“y-yeah, hi, i’m great.” you replied, a frown upon your face, glancing at sarah for “help”

“oh! janette is here! you two catch up, i’ll come back later!” sarah exclaimed, leaving you two behind.

you honestly didn’t know what to say or do. why was joel acting so strange?

“want a drink, babygirl?” when you gave him an uncertain look, his gaze softened, “c’mon i’ll get’ya one.”

you followed joel closely behind back to the house, accepting his offer of the beer that he had in his hands.

“so… just thought you should know, me and sarah are moving back here.” he said, handing you a cold bottle from the fridge.

‘yeah, thanks. like this isn’t my house’ you thought.

“oh, really? where’d you go all these years, actually?” you asked, settling down on the table seat, hand under your chin as if joel was telling you a very intriguing story, wide eyed as you waited for his answer.

“had a contracting job a few states away, your father was practically bribing me to stay but you know…”

“so you’re done? with the contracting work?”

“not really, just moved the business back here for your daddy.”

daddy, huh.

“that’s cool.” you sighed, taking a swipe at the beer before nearly puking it all out. “ew, what is this?” you choked out.

joel laughed a little before he swooped to your side, his hands rubbing up and down your back, helping you to steady your breathing after nearly choking to death.

his touch was hot on your skin, even through the sweater. yoy could feel all your senses tingling and all you could feel now was joel.

joel joel joel joel joel…

“your daddy must’ve gotten it, it does taste a little funny.” he joked.

a moment of silence filled the room, it wasn’t awkward or anything like that, in fact, it was comforting. at that moment, all you could feel, hear, smell and think about was joel miller, your dad’s best friend, within centermeters from you, touching you.

then, his hand started to travel up from your back, slowly tracing the soft fabric of your sweater all the way up to your shoulder, giving them a gentle squeeze before catching your hair between his fingers.

“what’re you doing?” you whispered, voice barely coming out as a whisper as your eyes glued onto his hand.

“nothin’, darlin’. you’re just really pretty…” joel replied, “thank you for covering up, i’m a selfish old bastard, i know.”

“it’s okay, thank you for looking out for me.” you said, tearing your gaze from his hand to his face now, seeing his big doe eyes staring down at you already. joel could still feel your breath fanning the top of his hand, sucking in at the way he was so easily getting aroused by you.

but this was wrong.

joel was aware of the line that he was going to cross if this continued, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. with one last soft finger, he tapped our nose lightly, making you scrunch up your face.

“i-” you hesitated saying something to joel, stopping him in his tracks. “nothin’” joel nodded and he walked out of the room, slamming the fromt door shut leaving you behind again.

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Part Three

It was weeks after the barbecue and things had went back to normal. it was rather boring this year, you had nothing to really occupy yourself with. most of the times you were just huddled in the comfort of your room, if not, you were out shopping for the sake of it.

for joel however, it has been the craziest few weeks. his mind was racing every second of the day, it used to be work that took up his time, but now, it was you.

joel was obsessed.

he craved you, he wanted to feel the warmth of your skin on his hands again. but it was more than just skin deep, there was an aura that bloomed all around you, you were bubbly, kind and sweet. too sweet for an old man like him.

but that didn’t stop him from imagining. he imagined your hands on him whenever he was alone. how they would feel compared to his, the softness, the gentleness of a girl he was twice the age of, his best friend’s perfect little girl

at nights when sarah was deep asleep, he often found himself jacking off to the thought of you.

‘that’s it baby, you like it when daddy’s best friend is balls deep in ya?’

‘good girl darlin’, takin’ me so well’

the profanities slipping past his lips as he came twice as fast as he normally would. a grown man like him would have probably lost his vigor but oh no, he would come three, even four times if he had it in him that day.

in simple words, he was obsessed. he was crazy about you, and he didn’t know why

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Part Four

about a month had passed and it was like deja vu, you were back in the kitchen, setting up the dinner table for guests to come over.

but this time, the only “guests” were sarah and joel.

“dad, don’t serve that beer please.” you groaned, placing an overdramatic hand over your head. “one, it tastes horrible, and two, i really wouldn’t like to be in a room of two men who are drunk before 8pm hits.”

“too bad, hon’, mr. miller and i are getting drunk. it’s a holiday.” your dad let out a hearty laugh.

then, dinner ensued, your dad and mom were sitting opposite each other, sarah and joel on the opposite side of the table you were on. even though joel was only residing nearby your house, he arrived with a white button up with casual jeans, and damn he looked good.

“so, sarah, how’s the boyfriend?” your mother questioned the girl, making her grow wide eyed, slapping joel on the arm.

“you told them?!”

joel just shrugged, obviously enjoying the ongoing conversation.

“he’s fine, we’re just taking it really slow… how ‘bout you, y/n? is there a lucky guy yet?” sarah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you, making you slightly rolling your eyes

“no…”

joel’s eyes lit up like a lightbulb.

“…but i do have a date later.”

‘you had a what?!’ joel thought, briefly choking on his beer.

“later? hon’ you didn’t tell us anything about a date?” you father asked.

“slipped my mind, but we’re just going out for drinks, it’ll be really quick.” you replied, gaze avoiding joel’s even though you could feel him burning a hole through you with the way that he was staring.

“anyway, how’s the move going?” you tried to change the topic, avoiding the unpleasant conversation.

you felt bad, you did. but you knew that joel would never look at you the way you looked at him, you knew he saw it as more of a geniune care and adoration towards you than a lust or sinful want. to distract yourself, you had agreed to go on a date with a friend of yours. just to get your mind of the man you truly wanted.

it was about half past 8 when you took your leave, politely excusing yourself from the table to prepare to head out.

“don’t be back too late, sweetie!” your father called out as you took a last look into the mirror, smoothing your hair out before you left the house.

“i won’t, love you!”

at the bar, you didn’t know what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t this. your date was so self absorbed he fed off any kinds of attention he got.

“no way, did you see how the bartender looked at me?”

“she practically touched my hand, like, she might as well give me her phone number at this point.”

‘god, this guy was insufferable’

just then, a familiar figure approached the two of you, it was joel. how did he know you were here? and what was he doing here?

“hey, darlin’, ready to go home?” he asked, his southern accent coating his every word as you just sat and stared.

“what?”

“your daddy wants you home right now, babygirl.” he replied, draping a hand over your shoulder almost protectively.

you got the hint from joel and hopped out of your seat, his hands grabbing your waist, helping you down.

“i’ll uh, see you tomorrow?” the poor boy who once was your date a few minutes ago now looked deflated, you pitied him but, god, you didn’t want to spend any longer with his self-absorbed ass.

before you got the chance to say goodbye, joel yanked you out of the bar, the cool air faded from around you as you stepped into the warmth of the carpark.

“what’re you doing joel? i was having fun!” you said to the older man as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

“yeah, sure you were, darlin’ ” he scoffed, opening the door of his truck, lifting you up with ease onto the passenger seat next to his.

you tried to protest but he was basically manhandling you, strapping you in tightly before he shut the truck door, heading to the driver’s side, settling in.

“if you really wanted to go back to your little date, you would be trying way harder to get out.” he stated as the engine of the truck boomed.

he had a point

then, it was silence all the way back to your house, the only sound was the radio playing softly in the background. you huffed, turning to look outside of the window as you passed the streets.

when you weren’t looking, joel was stealing peeks from you, a soft smile plastered on his lips. there was a pang of guilt but an even stronger sense of satisfaction coursing through his veins.

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Part Five

joel unlocked the fromt door with a spare key he had on him, signalling for you to be quiet while taking a step in.

“why are y-”

joel’s hand clamped onto your mouth, your words coming out muffled. then, you realised why, your dad was passed our drunk on the sofa, legs and hands sprawled out like a starfish, making you giggle behind his hand.

joel smiled at you before taking your hand in his subconsciously, dragging you upstairs before both your laughters would wake your father up.

you led joel into your room, quickly closing the door before a roar of laughter bursted our from you and joel. you joined him on the edge of the bed as you caught your breath, feeling more welcomed home than you ever had.

“don’t go tomorrow.”

“what?”

“the date. don’t go.”

“why not?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

“go out with me instead. please?” joel’s voice broke at his plea, his eyes showing nothing but care and affection towards you.

his smell was intoxicating you, the close proximity making the tension almost too hard to ignore.

“if we do this, i won’t be able to stop.” he said in a hushed voice.

“don’t.”

in a single heartbeat, his lips were on yours, a moan errupting out of him and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

joel pulled you off from the bed and onto his lap, a shriek coming from you as he chuckled. joel started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, they were sure to leave a mark tomorrow but he didn’t care, that was the fun of it.

“c’mon babygirl, i know you want this, show me how much you need it.”

you dumbly nodded, swallowing hard as you started to rid of your clothes, each one hitting the floor one after another. eventually, you were left with only your bra and panties on.

“baby, you can’t do this to me. gonna kill me darlin’ ” joel moaned, seeing the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. “what so you want me to do? use your words darlin’ girl, i’ll do anything you want.”

“i want you to fuck me, joel.”

“oh, baby… i fuckin’ want to but i can’t. not today.” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. joel saw the disappointment on your face, lightly chuckling, “but i can make you come.”

“yes, please.”

“good girl, baby. what’dya want? my mouth? my fingers?”

“your fingers, please joel.”

whimpers escaped your mouth as joel slowly slipped his finger into your panties, a finger tracing your pussy, gathering the slick that was forming steadily.

“don’t tease me, baby, i wanted this for so long.” you begged.

and that turned joel on even more.

“yeah? tell me how much you’ve thought about this.” he urged, finally plunging a finger into your tight cunt as you gasped.

“wanted this since the day you came back.” you cried, clinging onto joel’s shoulders, burying your head into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.

“dirty girl, why didn’t you tell me, hm? would’ve given it to you anytime you wanted.”

you were so far gone, drunk on joel that you could only nodded and whimper at his words.

a loud whine erupted from you as he started abusing your hole with two fingers now, thrusting them in an animalistic rate. your legs were shaking, forehead covered in sweat as you tried not to come too quickly.

“aw, poor thing, baby, don’t hold back. just let go, c’mon darlin’, come on my fingers.” joel instructed, giving you a hard thrust of his fingers, causing tears to form in your eyes. he leaned down, right next to your ear and whispered something that you could never forget.

“come for daddy, darlin’ ”

you gushed around him, liquid splashing all over his jeans as you let out a loud gutteral moan of his name.

he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, praising you as you came down from your high, hands gripping onto his shirt as you sobbed.

“how’re we feeling, babydoll? you okay?” he asked as soon as he sensed you calming down.

you nodded, tearing your face away from his shoulders. “yeah… thank you joel.”

“don’t needa thank me, i should be thankin’ you. never seen anyone look that pretty an’all when they come.”

you groaned, hands covering your face in embarrassment as he laughed at you. that night, you laid in his arms until the crack of dawn. joel slipped out the front door without waking your father up, being gone without a single trace if him being in your room the night before…

…except for the kisses he planted all over tour face before he left, and his number on your phone.

‘joel miller, what are you doing to me?’

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

part two comin soon

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #tlou

[daze4all]

Honkai Star Rail Imagine: 7 days a week of Yandere! Sugar Daddy's x Darling! Reader

You never intended to be involved with 7 men. You were just trying to make a living doing odd jobs. Whatever you could take, and they just wanted to take whatever you could offer them. Even if it was just that day…although they often forgot you weren’t just theirs to hold…

Maid for Hire! Reader x Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Blade,

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

Next Set: Dan Heng, Sunday, Argenti, Jing Yuan TBA

Inspired by Seven Jung Kook) 'Seven (feat. Latto)' 

Part 1: 1st Meeting, Domestic , Doting and Dating Second Part on smut to come...

Sugar Daddy 1. Dr. Ratio

Monday – Teacher! Ratio x Housekeeper/ Student! Reader

Monday starts off the week with lessons from Dr Ratio in return for chores and reward for being such a good student …

Domestic Life with Ratio hired as Housekeeper

Dr. Ratio had hired you on as housekeeper to clean his house, lab, and his library. For such a scholar his house got surprisingly messy. hH was constantly poring over scroll and forgotten tomes.

Dr Ratio was so invested in his studies that sometimes he even forgot to eat. SO it was your job to cook and prepares meal balanced on tray while he evaluated your cooking “

 “Seven out ten. The taste is good, but the presentation is lacking. Try Harder next time” Ratio would say with barely a glance your way. Unknowing he was watching you over his book secretly.  

Even on days that Dr. Ratio proclaimed the food you prepared was “urgh disgusting. One out of ten.” He would eat it without another complaint. Simply saying “Add more salt next time” while studying his books intently. Or “ I suppose it will do “No effort should be wasted”

Under his critique, your food did get better as did your cleaning skills as he detailed precisely how he wanted his old books preserved and cleaned carefully. It was detailed work to but satisfying when praised by Dr. Ratio  for a “10 out 10”

2. Ratio Decides to Teach when he sees you Reading instead of Cleaning

You never had such an extensive education as the old novels in his library could provide. While cleaning the shelves you couldn’t help taking a peek. Soon you found yourself cross legged on floor drawn into the world of words before you knew it the duster forgotten.

Ratio stumbled upon you like this. The light hitting your face.  He traced your face an open book as you ohhed  and ahed at each twist and turn in the story.

He smiled wryly amused when you mouthed new words stumbling over the production. One word you messed up so badly he interrupted “It is stupendous?

Startled you snapped the book closer apologies spilling from you plushi lips “ I’ll get right back to work sir”

No Need in fact…how about you be my test subject student and Shall I teach you” Dr. Ratio had commanded and so your lessons with Dr. Ratio began.

3. Dr. Ratio Teaches You a Lesson in Attraction

Teaching was his joy and passion though he was so smart, and you could only marvel at his genius in silence when he rambled random theories  to you.

Often he just wanted you as a sounding board  “ A measure of what ignoramus, I may have to teach and pound sense into their brain.” he commented to you

After all, He firmly believed that  “No matter how ignorant a pupil can soon be a peer once  taught”

As embarrassment and desire burning through you as the very handsome man hovered over your shoulder to correct you.

“ No its like this let me show you” Dr Ratio without preamble would smoothly directed your shaking hands to write the right word.  “Why are you shaking?”

His genius mind immediately deduced your attraction to him when you started behavior oddly around him.

After all, he wasn’t unaware of your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chest hip and lips with flushed blush.

After all he wasn’t unaware your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chests hip and lips with flushed blush.

He too watched you.

At first simply to observe as he couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the human body similar to the bust, he wore.

It was inevitable that working in close quarters and learning each other habits that you crossed the line…as he took so much pleasure in teaching and punishing you .

Then idly while teaching or reading he would follow the lines of your face to the back of your neck sloped over your study book.

“Perhaps a carrot and stick method would be a better lesson plan” Dr. Ratio would muse as you struggled through the practice books as he settled you once on his lap. His breaths in your ear and you blushed conscious of his closeness.

Tuesday-  Escort! Reader x Sugar Daddy! Aventurine

 Tuesday – Aventurine

With Aventurine you were the most casual and comfortable. He was businessman and knew a steal of deal when he saw it and he had to have you for day.

A gamble for charity he raised the stakes so high and won you for a date as the highest winning bet for the night. Dates that continued every Tuesday from then on.

Flirty banter was common for you two and soon you had charmed each other.  His double hued hypnotic eyes and devil may care attitude and charisma easing as you stepped off the stage “Hello, friend happy to have such a lovely lady for the evening”

His false flirty lines promised this was just another business deal and a game to him. A friend you would fuck from time to time for fun. However he kept making than that.

His tasks ranged from keeping his penthouse tidy, to being his dress up doll, to keeping him entertained.

When he was tired. A domestic day of cooking dinner and fixing his bath. Other times there would be surprise present in the houses.

Often scandalous lingerie and slips for his eyes alone to greet him. Sometimes elegant costly gowns to wear out to a business party’s as his plus one. If not it was a party dress sparkly and skintight and showing skin only he could touch.

would be perched on his knee or crushed by his side at a casino or stately business dinner .

“My Lucky charm~” Aventurine would sing to his clients as he rolled the dice for yet another winning deal flashing a smile and pressing a kiss to the pulse of your neck.  

Despite his flippant and teasing nature, he promised when going to sleazy parties “Don’t worry I’ll protect you. No one will dare mess with me here”

 Aventurine was almost always a night owl keeping you up for partying or for pleasure in his bedroom. Despite intimately knowing your deal as a creditor he was the most possessive and took advantage of it the most.

Wednesday – Blade- Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories

First Meeting with Blade: Kafka sets you guy’s Up

A good guy was too sweet for you it hurt but a bad boy was what you deserved and could turn the pain into pleasure.

It was simple with Blade. Lay back and let him break you. You did help clean up the base from time to time as a housekeeper. However, the role was simple to help Blade burn off some steam. Rough and possessive the most dangerous customer by far.

It had been like that since the first day  you met him but funny enough unlike the other men he didn’t seek you out.

The idea wasn’t his. A gorgeous lady with a spider like coat weaved a web to capture the flower and delivered you to the beast called Blade. Honesty from her initial description you though he was cat you were cat sitting at first or you might to have taken the job.

 “Help me, help take the edge off and distract him for bit will you dear?” She directed in a sweet tone. Sticky sweet and dangerous as honeyed poison.

 “What the hell is this” demanded Blade seeing you a stranger all dolled up like a a bright flower in his bedroom. Weak and fragile and sure to break if he touched it.

“A present, Blade. So you stop hurting yourself during practice and occupy yourself with more pleasurable activites, have fun. Live a little!~” Kafka cooed as she pushed you into Blade’s room and locked the door to trap you both

Meeting his burning eyes you gulped nervously. This was one customer perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted, but the web was to addicting to squirm free.

Once he had a taste, he’d hunt you down you were sure of it, if you ever stopped. It was hard enough keeping him from consuming you whole during his sessions.

Side note Poly!Reader Background  might be….:

-A maid for hire just looking to clean a house but get caught up with yandere men wanting her for more services that may or may not be implied on the site that she may or may not know about

Could also be Sugar Baby/Polymarous/Host/Rent a girlfriend/Housekeeper/Escort! Reader

- Seeking out the strongest men to renew your dying race as you were known to have very low birth rates

- Doing this to pay back a debt she has from her fallen planet.

- Possibly cursed by the Propagation or a Aeon of Lust Luxuria to constantly hunger for sex to live?

-Nymphomaniac or a person who just like sex with many men and that’s her lifestyle so why not make money off it lol

- Reader is a  Succubus maybe and craves and needs many men’s seed for their  male life Essence to live and cannot take from one too often or he dies from having too much

Inspired by the Genshin Version written by liljojo genshin sugar daddies

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #hsr blade #male yandere x reader #yandere imagines #hsr jing yuan #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #soft yandere #yandere #yandere aventurine #yandere ratio #genshin impact drabbles #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #yandere boyfriend #yandere jing yuan #yandere dan heng #dan heng imbibitor lunae #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #dan heng #dan heng il #dan feng #hsr dan heng

[purinfelix]

Hello! I love your writing 💕 can i request something fluff with gavi?

post-match routine ˙✧˖°

pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: your plans for post-match cuddles with your boyfriend are interrupted when he debuts a new haircut at a game warnings: none - just fluff !! w/c: 988

a/n: thank you sm for the rq and kind words anon!! <33 i had an idea to write smth like this a while ago (when gavi first cut his hair lol) but i'm missing him a lot now so :"") here it is - consider it a love letter to his long and fluffy hair

The jingle of keys echoing through your empty apartment alerted you of your boyfriend’s arrival home after a match. You craned your neck from your spot on the couch, where you had made yourself comfortable to doom scroll on your phone. Due to an overload of work you had had to miss this game, but had just been catching up on its events after finally muscling your way through your workload. The boys had won, of course, but there was something else that had caught your eye when looking through match highlights  - your boyfriend’s hair. 

You almost didn’t believe it when you saw the clips of him walking out from the locker room, seeing how short he had cut his hair almost sent you spiralling. Obviously, you would still love him nonetheless, but his fluffy hair had always been one of your favourite things about him. And now, it was just so short. And you may or may not have taken to your various social media platforms to express your disdain for it, which you may or may not have overexaggerated for the sake of humouring his fans. 

As you heard the door swing open though, you tossed your phone aside to focus your attention solely on the heaving mass that was your boyfriend as he staggered in. He really looked like hell, and you weren’t just talking about his new haircut, you would choose to bite your tongue on that for now. After an intense match, without having been subbed off once, he stood there sweaty, visibly aching with a pained expression. 

“Hello baby,” you coo smoothly, watching as the bags he was only just holding onto fell to the ground around him. Usually after long matches, espeically one’s you couldn’t attend, Gavi would come home and collapse into your arms. It was his way of ‘recharging’ before getting cleaned up. 

But today was different. He simply stood there, swaying side to side - although you were sure this was more a result of the unstoppable force of fatigue than any actual deliberate choice of his. There was one feature though that told you all you needed to know - a familiar pout spread across his face as he looked down at his own feet. 

“You really hate my hair that much?” His tone was quiet, his voice nothing more than a small, meagre ask. He must’ve seen your tweets, and your story, and maybe the few messages you had sent to him in the blind flurry that had followed first seeing his hair. You almost felt bad, hearing how guilty he sounded and it took everything within you not to give into your cuteness aggression and smother him right there and then. 

“No,” you let out a soft laugh, “I was only kidding,” 

“But, your tweets … and your stories …” he began, sounding so upset you couldn’t help but interrupt him. 

“It’s not my favourite of your looks, but I still love you, hm?” 

“Oh, thank god …” Gavi let out weakly, followed by a sigh of relief as if he had been waiting an eternity just to hear those words. Finally he managed to stagger over to where you were, albeit unsteadily, before collapsing onto you. 

You let out a soft exclamation at the feeling of your boyfriend’s entire body weight pressing down on you, a feeling you had come to not only find familiar but also a great deal of comfort in. He was sticky with sweat and his body radiated a heat you could only barely stand. But despite this he was still your boyfriend, your Gavi, and so you did the only thing you knew to do - wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. 

He let out a croak of thanks at this, shifting into a more comfortable position with his head turned to the side as he offered you a weak smile. 

“You played well today,” you mumble endearingly. 

“You say that every game,” he was quick to respond, even through the fatigue his attitude was strong. 

“Not my fault you play well every game,” you shot back even quicker, fingers coming up to delicately brush away the stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead. You let your fingers dance across his face, his cheeks, his eyebrows, each touch softer than the last. He only let out a hum in response, closing his eyes at the feeling he’d come to love far more than he’d ever admit. 

You two sit in silence for a while, and you had thought your boyfriend had drifted off to sleep on your chest as it would’ve been far from the first time he had. Rather though, he had just been listening in silence to your heartbeat, ear pressed to your chest, rising with each breath. Suddenly, the silence was broken by his soft voice coming once more. 

“Do you really think Pedri’s hair is nicer than mine?” You weren’t even looking but you could tell these words were coming from pouted lips. He must’ve been making reference to one of the throwaway tweets you had made about his haircut, because you could barely remember now. 

“Maybe,” you start, but as you watch his eyebrows furrow you’re quick to change your answer, accompanied by a laugh, “No, of course not.” 

At this, Gavi smiled, letting out a soft laugh of his own - music to your ears. He used what was left of his diminishing energy to take your hand, which up until now had been softly stroking his nape, and press it languidly to his lips. It was about as much affection as he could show in his tired state and you knew that all too well as you gazed down at him fondly. 

“You’ll be the death of me someday,” was the last thing he confessed, barely above a whisper but loud enough that you caught it, before drifting off to sleep.

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi fluff #fc barcelona #football #football fanfic #fanfic #purinfelix #jet writes ★ #jet answers ✧

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 13 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica's fraternity fundraiser is the most popular event during alumni weekend. While that should be enough to guarantee she's smiling all night, an unwanted guest turns up to make sure that doesn't happen. Jake is set on taking care of her, but he desperately wants her to open up.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"Come on, Hangman," Bradley grunted. "You're acting like you've never been to a frat party before."

Jake watched him adjusting the keg of beer in the enormous tub of ice on the back porch of the fraternity house. "We're supposed to carry this inside?" Jake balked. "Why? It's going to make a mess."

"Jesus Christ, Jake. You need beer to play beer pong."

"We played it with champagne at your house on New Year's Eve," he countered, just to irritate Bradshaw. 

"Yeah, and it low key pissed off my wife. Just help me carry this inside before both of them get mad at us."

He and Jake struggled with the keg and dropped it off in the back hallway where the exceptionally nerdy looking frat boys would be able to access it to fill up the crystal cups between rounds. In fact, one of them was coming over now, all dressed up in his tuxedo. 

"Excuse me, sir. Can you help me move some of the ping pong tables?"

Bradley looked absolutely disgusted as he said, "Only if you stop calling me sir." Bradley went off to help him while Jake found Jessica in the kitchen going over the menus with the culinary students. She looked gorgeous, and he wanted to get his hands on her, but there was a soft crease between her eyebrows that told Jake she was starting to stress. 

"What can I do?" he asked when she glanced his way.

"Can you check to make sure you can hear the string quartet everywhere?" she asked him. "Everyone should start arriving in about ten minutes."

"Of course." Jake walked around the entire downstairs of the sprawling Victorian house, and after a minute he realized the quartet was playing Hot In Herre by Nelly. Not only could he hear it everywhere, it also sounded incredible, and he had to fight the urge to start dancing. 

When he walked into the main living room, Bradshaw and his wife had their backs to him while they threw a few test shots at one of the tables. Jake had to appreciate the juxtaposition that Jessica had achieved here. It was an elevated college experience for adults. 

"Let's try this out," Bradshaw mumbled, stretching like he was about to compete in an event at the actual olympics. "I honestly don't love that Jess didn't go regulation with solo cups," he complained, aiming at the crystal glassware lined up at the far end of the table. 

His wife wrapped her arms around him and said, "Come on, Beer Boy. You can do it."

"Not with you hanging all over me, I can't," he said, but in such a loving way that Jake rolled his eyes. Bradshaw was soft and sweet for literally nobody but his wife. 

"You never once complained about that when we were in college," she mused, kissing the side of his neck when her eyes met Jake's. "Oh look. Another fuckboy."

Jake laughed in response and made his way over to her as the fraternity boys ran around and started pouring glasses of champagne for everyone who was about to arrive. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me," she replied with a grin while her husband made two shots in a row, the pinging of the balls against the crystal making a satisfying sound. "We should play later as long as everything is going smoothly. Fuckboys versus hot ladies."

"Hot, smart ladies," Bradshaw said as he made another shot. Jake got his ass kicked by the two of them on New Year's Eve, but he was more confident he could win with Rooster as his teammate. 

"Here you go, sir," the nerdiest of the boys told Bradley, offering up the champagne flutes on the tray. He growled and snatched one up before handing it to his wife at the same time Jake caught sight of his girlfriend in the kitchen with another guy's arms wrapped around her. 

"What the fuck." He wove around the tables and ducked through the doorway where Jessica was laughing with an extremely attractive man in a purple suit that somehow didn't even look hideous on him. And then she gave him another quick hug before releasing him.

"As soon as you invited me, I dropped everything," the other guy said. "It's not every day you get a chance to look at the beautiful Jessica Reed."

"Stop it, Dev. You're being too sweet. I already can't thank you enough for all the beer."

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was the fact that Jessica looked calmer in the presence of this Dev guy that she had for the past hour, and that didn't even account for the way he was looking at her. Jake cleared his throat loudly. 

"Jake! Come meet Dev Borah!"

When they clasped hands, Jake tried his best at an intimidating handshake, but Dev looked completely unfazed by it. Then he said, "I've heard a lot about you from Bradley. Aren't you the guy who tried to pick up his wife before you realized they were dating?"

Okay. Jake officially hated this guy. He could feel himself blushing, and Jessica was looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't try to pick up Bradshaw's wife when he met her. Not exactly. He'd put his foot in his mouth a little bit that day last year, but not to the extent Dev was making it out to be. 

"I get it though," he told Jake. "She's beautiful. But so is Jessica. You're very lucky." He slapped Jake on the back before he said, "I just need to run out to my Porsche and grab those gift cards for the silent auction. I'll be right back, Jess."

"I swear I didn't try to pick her up," Jake insisted as soon as he was gone, but Jessica was already laughing at him. 

"She's hot. I get it," she replied as she hugged him. "And I'm sure Dev just wanted to give you a hard time."

Jake rolled his eyes as she tucked her head under his chin. "Are you all set, Baby? I think people are starting to arrive."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

-----------------------

An hour later, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. The Kappa Pi house was completely packed. It almost felt like a real frat party, but the partygoers ranged in age from thirty to seventy. They'd already gone through countless bottles of champagne and one of the kegs of beer from Beta Brewing. Jake and Bradley were carrying another iced keg inside to the back hallway where the empty one sat. 

"Thank you," she told Bradley who was flushed from whatever he was drinking. He immediately returned to dance with his wife to the string quartet playing Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. She'd received so many compliments on the music selection, and everyone was gushing about how delicious the beer was. She just sent the trays of food out of the kitchen, and now the beer pong tournament was underway. 

"You're killing it, Reedy," Jake whispered next to her ear before kissing her. "You got this frat thing on lock." Her heart swelled with pride at his words. Then a tall man in a tuxedo strolled her way with a champagne flute in one hand and a glass of beer in the other. 

"Are you Dr. Reed?" he asked over the noisy crowd and the music. 

"Yes," she replied as he shuffled his drinks so he could shake her hand.

"Dr. Gregory Michaels. I just wanted to let you know that I've been coming to alumni weekends for thirty years, and I was a member of Kappa Pi. In fact, I lived in this house my senior year."

"Did you really?" she asked as he smiled and looked around. 

"It feels exactly the same," he told her with a laugh, and she turned to smile at Jake. "I also wanted to let you know that this is by far the best and most entertaining event I've ever attended. My wife is playing beer pong for the first time with a guy in a backwards hat, and I've never seen her have so much fun. I'll be sure to mention this to Dean Walters when he and I have our next golf outing."

"You know Dean Walters?" she asked, her knees nearly giving out. The dean was like four steps above Brian Conley. There was no way Brian would be able to be a complete dick about her tenure if she had the damn dean on her side. 

"I don't just know him. I used to be his math tutor when we were undergrads together. I'll put in a good word."

When he turned and walked away, Jessica giggled and jumped up and down before she took Jake by the hand and led him away from the kegs. "He knows the dean," she hissed as she pushed her way through the back door. "He's putting in a good word."

"You deserve it," he replied in the relative darkness of the back porch as Jessica pushed his back up against the exterior of the house. He smirked as she came to stand between his legs and kissed him. "You deserve everything."

Jake's hands were on her hips, bunching her dress up inch by inch until he slipped his warm hand inside the slit. He wrapped his hand around her thigh, caressing her with his thumb as he pulled her snug against his body. 

"Who's going to give it to me?" she whispered against his lips. "You?"

He moaned as he palmed her ass. "Yeah, I'll give you everything." Then she laced her fingers through his hair and rubbed herself slowly back and forth along his suit pants as he groaned into her mouth. "Jessica." His voice had a pleading quality as he grew a little harder for her. She felt good right now. Almost powerful. "Baby, please." 

As Jessica dragged her right hand down along his body to his pants zipper, Jake's head tipped back. "You think anyone will notice me on my knees?" she asked teasingly as she pulled his zipper down. 

"Fuck," he whined, but just as she got her hand wrapped around him through his underwear, she heard someone calling her name from inside the house.

"Dev's looking for me," she said, kissing his jaw.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love it if he found you with your hand in my pants."

Jessica giggled. "Just hold that thought for later tonight." She got him zipped up again, and when Dev popped out on the porch and found her, she was kissing Jake, but in a much less compromising position. 

"I need you to verify the silent auction winners," Dev told her. "And then I need you to have a glass of champagne with me."

Jake grunted, but Jessica squeezed his hand to silence him. "Coming, Dev," she told him before turning back to Jake. "Let me check on everything, and then just maybe we'll have a minute to play a game of beer pong. I'll meet you in there."

And then she placed one more filthy kiss on Jake's lips before going inside.

-------------------------

Jake sipped his champagne while the crowd around him seemed to move in unison to the cover of Jay-Z that the quartet was playing. It looked like everyone was having a great night, and Bradshaw was no exception as he taught a woman who was easily twice his age how to play beer pong. 

"You need a partner?" 

Jake turned to see a young woman eyeing him up and down with a hopeful smile. Damn. A few months ago, he'd have said yes. And he would have probably ended up sleeping with her either here or back at his condo before kicking her out in the morning. 

"I'm here with my girlfriend." He walked to the other side of the table where Bradshaw's wife was dancing with her own champagne flute. "This whole thing seems successful, right?" he asked.

"Very," she replied. "Look at everyone! That guy's like eighty years old! He's also a huge donor to the college, and he's dancing like nobody's watching."

Jake cracked up. "Meanwhile, everyone is watching." But she was right. Everybody was rocking their formal wear while tossing ping pong balls like there was no tomorrow as the night wore on. 

Then Jessica and Dev emerged from the kitchen, and she came right for him. "Jake, I'm freaking out. I got an email that said I sold all of the tickets available for tonight. And, the items in the silent auction went for a ton of money!"

"I'm not surprised," he replied, pulling her close to his side. "Not one bit. Congratulations."

"You're up!" Bradshaw called out. "Get your ass to the other side of the table, Reed. Hangman, you're with me." Then he kissed his wife, "Get down there with Jessica, Sugar."

"You're about to lose so fucking hard, Beer Boy."

The crowd had started to thin out now, and Jake watched the fraternity boys clean off the table and set up fresh glasses filled with overpriced beer for them. "Ladies first," Jake said, rolling the balls to their end of the table. And that was when he learned that not only was he nowhere near as good as Rooster and his wife, he was also terrible compared to Jessica.

After the ladies sunk both of their shots, Bradley said, "I hope you're ready to drink." And then when Jake missed his first shot, he got a glare in response. "How are you this bad? You went to college."

"I didn't play beer pong. I was busy making out with girls."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I managed to do both at the same time very successfully. Isn't that right, Sugar?"

She responded by making another shot followed by Jessica. "Shit," Jake muttered. 

"Can we switch partners?" Bradley whined. He tried to walk to the other end of the table as he drank his beer, but his wife just pushed him right back to Jake. 

"It's not our fault we're exceptionally good at math," she said before returning to Jessica's side. 

"Come on, Jake!" his girlfriend cheered. "You can do it!"

But he missed again. It was almost comical how easily the ladies won, and they only had to drink one glass of beer toward the end of the match. Bradshaw's wife danced around while she drank it, and then Jessica made the final shot. 

"I taught her everything she knows!" Bradley shouted as he made his way back to their end. "My wife is a badass."

Jessica was laughing as she ran around the table toward Jake. "You're terrible. Do you need lessons?" she asked sweetly. 

"Lessons from you?" he asked, kissing her hard. "Sign me up." But then his gaze caught on the one person he knew could ruin her night and would absolutely love to do it. 

-----------------------

When Jake started easing himself away from her and rubbing his hand along her back, Jessica looked up at him. "I'll gladly teach you how to suck less at beer pong. Actually... I wonder if I could turn it into a physics lecture topic," she mused. 

"Baby, he's here."

Jessica spun around so fast, she had to fix her glasses as she set eyes on an irate looking Brian Conley. "We need to talk," he told her with his hands on his hips like she was a small child.

"About what?" she bit back, already feeling her body tensing up as Jake, Bradley and his wife stood at her back. 

Brian was looking around the room in annoyance at the handful of alumni guests still playing beer pong and hanging out. The string quartet sounded louder now as the house had emptied out a bit, and the song was suddenly grating on her nerves. 

"Meet me in the kitchen," Brian growled, storming off toward the back of the house. 

Jake's hand was on hers immediately. "You don't have to talk to him right now, Jessica. Tell him to schedule a meeting for next week."

But she shook her head. "I'll be right back." 

She passed Dev in the hallway, and he looked handsome and happy as always. "I need to get going, but cheers to a successful fundraiser. Call me if you want to come up to Beta. You can even bring your boyfriend. I guess." His smile was bright, but she had to force one in return. 

"Thanks for everything, Dev." And as soon as she was alone in the kitchen with Brian, her smile vanished. "What can I help you with?" she asked him, swiping her sweaty palms on her pretty green dress.

He shook his head at her like she was something to be pitied. "You know... I spent all evening working through the numbers, trying to come up with a total amount of money raised through the science department for alumni weekend. And while your numbers seemed to look pretty good, you didn't account for the astronomical amount you wasted on kegs of this designer beer. And when I show up here to question you about it, you're practically drunk and playing the games you set up for paying guests."

Jessica's jaw dropped. "I'm not drunk! I haven't had anything to drink all night!" Brian rolled his eyes. "And I played one round of beer pong with my friends. If you hadn't noticed the event is ending now. It's nearly midnight."

Brian laughed. "You think someone from the math department is your friend? Jessica. You're delusional."

"Call me Dr. Reed," she ground out, fists clenched at her sides as tears stung her eyes. "And I'm not delusional."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Everyone in the science and math departments believes you're nothing but a slut, and I can guarantee your friend falls into that category." She started shaking as he added, "Now tell me how much you spent on the beer so I can deduct it from the profits of your event."

"I didn't spend anything!" she nearly screamed, frustrated beyond belief and tired of being belittled. "It was donated!"

Brian's laughter filled the space, bouncing off of the stainless steel appliances and tiled floor. "Donated? By whom?"

"The owner of the brewery!" she nearly screamed. "He donated things for the silent auction, too."

His gaze bore into her face as a look of disgust filled his features. "Jesus Christ, Dr. Reed. You got thousands of dollars worth of goods donated to you by the brewery owner? How many men are you sleeping with?"

Jessica's face fell further, and she had a hard time swallowing. "I'm not," she whispered, fingers going numb as her fists shook. "I didn't."

"You're so unprofessional. And you expect me to give you tenure? On what basis? You can't even get through an alumni event without fucking up and making yourself look bad."

"On the basis that I'm great at my job!" she shouted. But her voice shook on the last word, and she was mortified that she was about to cry in front of him. There was no hope. The tears were right there. And as her jaw quivered, she felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

"You're a damn joke," he replied maliciously, but then she felt a warm hand on her back between her shoulder blades. 

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" Jessica turned to her right to see Advanced Calculus in the kitchen, steadying her with her firm hand. "You think you're so slick, but you're not smarter than us. Where's your PhD from again? The University of Jackass online?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Brian told her, face stony. "Now if you don't mind, we're having a private conversation."

The other woman laughed. "It's no longer private when I can hear you berating Dr. Reed in the next room."

Brian seemed to fumble for a response as he said, "This is none of your business."

Jessica was shaking as Advanced Calculus said, "Actually, you made it everybody's business by telling lies and starting rumors, Dr. Conley. This is a university, not a sleepaway camp."

Brian took a step closer to her and hissed, "Do not think for one second that I can't fuck with your career path, too."

But she just smiled and inched even closer as she loudly said, "You're not in charge of my tenure."

Then Bradley was in the kitchen, too. His wife wrapped her arm around Jessica's shoulders as Bradley went chest to chest with Brian, towering over him. "Why the fuck are you talking to my wife that way? Huh?"

Brian sputtered for a response, but Jessica could barely breathe. It felt good to have people in her corner for once, but now she was terrified that Bradley was going to punch Brian. 

"I asked you a question," Bradley growled before he turned to his wife. "What's this guy's problem, Sugar?"

Jessica would have laughed if she wasn't already crying when her friend said, "I think he got his PhD online."

And then Jake was there, head on a swivel as he surveyed the situation and saw a few more stray tears slip down Jessica's cheeks. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

Bradley's wife laughed sardonically. "Jake, have you met Brian? He thinks it's okay to spread rumors and insult women who are smarter than him, and then he holds it over their heads."

Jessica watched Brian's face turn a pasty shade of white as Jake took him by the shirt collar and shoved him against the refrigerator. "No. Please don't hit him," Jessica begged as she cried. "He's not worth it, Jake."

But her boyfriend looked a little deranged right now, and she could see the malice in Brian's eyes. 

"I've had just about enough of you giving my girl a hard time. It's like you're begging for this." Jake shoved him a little harder, and Jessica had to look away. 

"Oh, shit," Bradshaw and his wife said in unison, and she was too afraid to look. 

Jessica felt the other woman's arms wrap around her as she called out, "Jake, look at Jessica! She's upset."

When Jessica peeked through her tears, she saw Bradley bear hugging Jake's arms to his side as he fought to get to Brian. But when Jake turned to look at her, his features softened, and now it looked like he was fighting against Bradley to come her way. 

Brian pushed away from the refrigerator and stormed out of the room, but not before he said, "We're not finished," as he pointed in Jessica's face.

Bradley released Jake, and Jessica was a little afraid he was going to go after Brian, but he didn't. She was wrapped up in his arms with his lips on her forehead as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I made you cry more."

Jessica shook in his arms, terrified that her career was now over. Shaken once again by how hard Brian was trying to ruin her. Jake's kisses and soft words did little to soothe her as she closed her eyes and sobbed.

"Take her home," Bradley said, his voice soft but commanding. "We'll get everything cleaned up here."

Jessica tried to argue, but Jake scooped her up easily in his arms, and she didn't fight him. She closed her eyes, forcing air into and out of her lungs, and a moment later she was sitting in his truck.

--------------------------

Jake started the engine, but before he shifted into drive, he leaned across the seat and brushed Jessica's hair away from her face. "I'll take you back to your place?" he asked softly. More than anything, he really wanted to drop her off and then go pound the shit out of Brian, but when she nodded and reached for his hand, he put the truck in gear.

She remained silent as she held his hand, only occasionally swiping at her tears and looking out the window. If he knew she wanted to confide in him, Jake would sit and wait with her for as long as it took her to get the words out. But he didn't want to push or ask the wrong things. He knew she could have a bit of a hard time opening up. 

He parked his truck, and scooped her up, careful not to mess up the fabric of her pretty dress. As he carried her into her apartment, he realized just how exhausted she must be. Her arms were around his neck, but she just sniffed and buried her face in his neck, trusting that he would get her inside to safety.

When Jake set her on her bed, he reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She looked wrung out even in the soft lighting, and he reached for her shoes. As he turned to take them into her closet, Jessica crawled up to her pillows with her dress still on, so he only took the time to remove his own shoes and his jacket before climbing in with her. 

Once he had his arms wrapped around her, she let her cheek rest on his chest. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed calmer. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, holding her close. 

She shrugged, and when she spoke, she sounded faint and almost broken. "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

This was not the first time Jake wondered how someone could dislike Jessica. His mind was swirling with the possibility that he was holding a grudge after she broke up with him. He'd been thinking that for weeks. As he pressed a kiss to her hair, he asked, "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She was crying again as she looked him in the eye and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

--------------------------

Brian Conley is a dank ass bitch. We hate him. If Jake doesn't respond just right, I'll have to kill him. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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#jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic #hangman fic #hangman imagine #jake hangman imagine #hangman smut #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin #hangman x oc #top gun hangman #hangman fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #adult education

[happilyhertale]

I have an aemond targaryen x reader fic idea in mind for ya! what about an aemond x fem!reader in which the two have always had a close friendship with each other since they were children, similar to alicent and rhaenyra's (reader would, of course, be the daughter of rhaenyra). the two would ride on dragonback together and do things childhood friends always did. although, that friendship crumbles after the terrible night that aemond lost his eye and the day reader is named heir to the throne.

years later, reader returns with her family as queen and with her dragon in tow. aemond and her reunite. not once did the two ever forget each other, aemond spent days and nights thinking of his best friend while reader dreamed of seeing the wonders of the world with him, maybe even more.

slight angst, fluff and smut pls? 💜💜💜

(also, I know her being queen probably doesn't make sense timeline wise but...yeah!)

Everlasting love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This One Shot Story was requested by the wonderful @chainsawsangel💜

And is at the same time the steamy Aemond one shot as a thank you for 1000 followers 🖤

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, soo.. please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: 18+ NSFW

Word count: 5.8 k

Other stories of mine

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You came into this world on a warm and radiant summer day. The sun shone brilliantly above, and the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs of Dragonstone echoed in the distance. You were the first precious offspring of your mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your father, Laenor Velaryon. Thankfully, the birth went smoothly, and just a few days later, your family returned to King's Landing.

You were born not long after Aemond Targaryen, the second prince of the realm. The two of you were said to be very close as infants. Aemond was quite a restless baby and needed a lot of comfort, which often kept Queen Alicent up at night. To give her a break, Aemond was placed in the care of nurses. However, they had great difficulty calming him down and simply got used to the constant crying.

Rhaenyra was deeply pained to witness the suffering of the newborn baby, who also happened to be her half-brother. Unable to bear the sight any longer, she devised a plan to ease his distress - by placing you, a peaceful and attentive infant, in the cradle with him.

She gently placed you next to Aemond in the cradle. At first, you felt a bit annoyed when you saw him, but Aemond's crying immediately stopped. He became interested in you and studied you closely, eventually even giving a small smile. Rhaenyra was pleased to see this and watched over the two of you with contentment. And thus, the two of you rested together in the cozy cradle.

As you rested in your cradle, nestled alongside two dragon eggs, the space felt a bit snug. But every time someone tried to take one of you out of the cradle, the other immediately started to cry.

When you were just six years old, your dragon egg finally hatched in the comfort of your cozy chambers. As you sat by the warm fire, you kept the egg close to ensure your new companion would feel just as snug as it would have with its birth mother.

As you were quietly flipping through the pages of a book, you heard a sudden cracking sound. At first, you assumed it was just the sound of the wood in the fireplace. But the sound repeated itself, followed by a piercing scream that filled the air.

Startled, you looked up and saw a small dragon facing you. You cried out with joy and hurriedly crawled towards the egg. A guard came in because he was startled by your sudden cry. But you paid no attention to him, you were overjoyed. You helped your dragon to free himself from the egg. You broke down the hard shell to make it easier for her to come out. You held out your hand to her and she climbed up. The joy on your face was evident and didn't fade away.

You carried the dragon in your arms and went directly to Aemond's chambers. He was overjoyed for you and enamored with the tiny creature.

You two spent the whole evening saying "Dracarys", hoping it would breathe fire, but nothing happened. You giggled incessantly. When Rhaenyra came to put you to bed, you both persuaded her. You wanted to sleep in bed with Aemond and your dragon with you. Your mother was not at all pleased, but eventually gave in.

You cuddled up with Aemond in his bed, with your dragon nestled between you both. She lay curled up like a small kitten, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

"What are you going to name him?" whispered Aemond to you.

"Him? I think it's a girl..," you chuckled.

Aemond rolled his eyes, "Very well, what do you want to call her?"

You smiled, "I've thought of a few names... But I think Blackfyre is a good name"

Aemond chuckled, "An interesting choice... but I think it's good"

Aemond's dragon egg never hatched. Although you tried to provide him with positive encouragement by explaining that hatching is out of one's control and that some dragon eggs don't hatch at all, it was still very difficult for him to accept this outcome.

But every time you entered the dragonpit, Aemond would accompany you. He was there when you gave Blackfyre her first orders and it pleased him to see how obediently she responded.

He was also there when Blackfyre had her first meal. Each time you both visited, Aemond's happiness was palpable. As a result, Blackfyre grew accustomed to having both of you around.

And so you were with him when your brothers and Aegon surprised him with the pink dread. You were shocked that they would treat Aemond so badly. You comforted Aemond afterwards. He didn't deserve that. But he was deeply depressed. You then argued with your brothers and told them how stupid they were.

And so you sneaked into the hall before dinner. No one else was in the hall yet, but the table was already set. You quickly went to Aegon's place and saw the wine jug. You managed to catch some pee from Blackfyre in the afternoon. It wasn't much, as most of it ran down your hand, but it would do. Now you stood at Aegon's place and poured the dragon pee into the jug. You grinned. Quickly you looked around again before pulling snot up deep from your throat and spitting it into the jug as well. Hearing footsteps from outside, you quickly scurried to your seat. You hear the heavy wooden door open with a loud creak. You look at the door and smile. Your grandsire, King Viserys, came into the hall. With him were Lord Otto and Queen Alicent. Lord Otto and King Viserys seemed to be talking. Queen Alicent smiled at you.

"Hello my sweet," she said softly as she passed you. Queen Alicent was always kind to you. Often she caught you and Aemond trying to steal cakes or biscuits before dinner. But instead of telling your mother about your inappropriate behaviour, she would put on a stern face, let you keep your loot and quickly send you away before anyone else could see you. "Your Highness," you replied with a smile.

When Aemond came into the hall at some point, he still looked sad. He quietly took a seat beside you, seeming lost in thought. Soon after, Aegon arrived and took his own seat. You had been observing him attentively.

"What are you staring at?!" he snapped at you.

"Don't talk to her like that!" suddenly rang out from Aemond.

"Oooh... do you have to be strong in front of her now..." but Queen Alicent interrupted him.

"Aegon! Stop it, now!" she said sternly.

Aegon just snorted and poured himself some wine.

You slowly leaned over to Aemond, "Watch Aegon," you whispered.

"Why?", Aemond asked you irritated.

Aegon put his cup to his lips.

"I might have added some dragon's pee and snot in his wine," you said quietly.

Aemond laughed out loud, causing everyone to turn and look at the source of the noise. You held back a laugh, as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. Meanwhile, Aegon had emptied his cup and was already pouring himself another drink. He seemed annoyed as he looked in your direction.

Aemond chuckled softly. He looked at you sweetly, "Thank you," he said softly to you. You grinned.

By the time you were ten years old, Blackfyre was big enough to ride. She was a big dragon that grew very fast. Your mother was strictly against you riding Blackfyre. She simply wanted to ensure your safety and was worried that you might accidentally slip off the dragon's back.

But it didn't stop you from riding Blackfyre. Of course you took Aemond with you. Blackfyre was the first dragon you and Aemond rode.

One day, word arrived that Laena Velaryon had passed away. She had made the difficult decision to end her life as a dragon rider during a difficult childbirth. You are now expected to journey to Driftmark to pay your respects at her funeral.

Before you left, you were with Aemond when his father, King Viserys, told him that they would travel to Dragonstone after the funeral. He said that Aemond could claim a dragon there if he was bold enough.

You quickly took hold of Aemond's hand to offer comfort. Although he didn't say anything, you could sense the hurt in his eyes caused by his father's words.

"Don't listen to him," you told Aemond afterwards, "He is indeed the king... but he is not always right. He does not know you. And of course you would be bold enough! You could claim any dragon!"

Aemond had to smile. But you still saw the disappointment in his gaze.

When you were on Driftmark for the funeral, everything happened very quickly. Aemond had no intention of travelling to Dragonstone. He wanted Vhagar. And he got Vhagar.

In the evening he sat with you in your chambers. He had promised that he would sneak into your chambers at night when everyone was asleep. But you only saw him again in the hall. In the middle of the night you woke up. Aemond was not in your chambers, but you heard loud conversations and shouting. Cautiously you got up. Quietly you went out into the corridor. You followed the voices and arrived at the hall. Everyone was gathered there. And then you saw Aemond. He was injured. A maester was sewing something in his eye. You went to him, but were held back by Daemon. He held you back with his arm and looked down at you. He just shook his head gently and pushed you carefully behind his big body. You didn't even take your eyes off Aemond.

Instead, you snuck into his chambers at night. He was lying on his bed, asleep. He had been given a lot of poppy juice, yet he had whimpered in his sleep. You climbed onto his bed and wrapped your little arms around him. He slowly stopped whimpering. You still had a calming effect on him, as you did in the cradle.

At bedtime, you made a habit of applying ointment to his scar to help ease the pain and aid in the healing process. Unfortunately, the maesters who had been assisting with this task were not gentle and caused Aemond to flinch in pain. One night, it became unbearable and Aemond was on the verge of tears. Feeling frustrated, you took matters into your own hands the following evening and took the ointment from the maester without saying a word.

"Princess. I must apply the ointment to Prince Aemond. You don't know how to do that"

"You are rough in applying it. You will not touch his scar again", you replied.

"Princess..." but you interrupted him.

"I have already successfully commanded Blackfyre to breathe fire. Would you like to feel that?", you looked coldly at him.

The maester paused. Then he tilted his head slightly and left the chambers.

Aemond sat speechless on the bed.

"You... You don't have to do this..." he finally said quietly.

"Oooh... don't be silly," you replied.

You went to the bed where he was resting, took some ointment from the bowl with your fingers, and gently spread it on his scar. Aemond had closed his good eye tightly, seemingly bracing himself for pain, but to his surprise, it didn't hurt. Gradually he opened his eye and saw you smiling at him with tenderness.

"Better?" you asked softly. He gave a small nod of his head, and from that moment forward, you diligently applied the soothing ointment that had been provided by the maester.

You also encouraged him that he is still the great person he was before the accident. You stood by his side and helped him to overcome his insecurities, even going so far as to help him regain his confidence with a sword.

In fact, you just kept hitting him with the wooden sword until he had enough of it and finally picked up a wooden sword and hit back. It was a challenging process, but you never stopped encouraging him to keep going but to continue now more than ever. To learn anew how he has to attack with the sword. At what angle the opponent must never stand so that he could see him well. And he did not give up.

During the day you encouraged him and at night you held him.

You still went to the dragonpit together regularly. But now Vhagar was with you. Together you often rode your dragons. Vhagar is bigger than Blackfyre, but not by much. Together you explored the skies. Only the rumbling of the dragons and your giggling could be heard from the air. Often you sat in the dragonpit afterwards. You had been lying in the dirt, hiding behind your dragons. But you enjoyed it. You sat there for hours and imagined all the things you wanted to discover. Where you wanted to travel. Of course you want to explore everything with your dragons. Perhaps one day you will fly to Essos. See the remains of Valyria.

When you are six and ten years old, you have been named heir to the throne. You have been chosen as the successor to your mother's throne, which comes as a surprise to you. Even though you are the eldest child, you had always assumed that your younger sibling Jace would inherit the crown. You're now uncertain about whether you're ready to take on the responsibilities of ruling as queen.

Aemond was still very close to you. You even sleep in bed together from time to time. It's just that it's felt a little different now. You had noticed that you often just look at him. As soon as you noticed it, you felt uncomfortable and your cheeks turned red.

Aemond was a little more subtle in his approach. He liked to watch you when you were asleep. When the moon shone into the room and made your silver hair glow. Sometimes he even dared to gently stroke your cheek. Just so he could see you gently wrinkling your nose in your sleep.

When you received the news that you were to become queen, you went straight to Aemond. Aemond was very happy for you, as usual. And in the evening, he surprised you. He came into your chambers through the secret passages, carrying two wine jugs.

"We must celebrate your becoming heir to the throne," he grinned at you. You had to chuckle softly.

You drank almost all the wine and lay together on your bed. Not a minute passed in silence, you talked the whole time. Until he suddenly looked straight at you, "You know... I like to watch you sleep..," His cheeks were red from all the wine, but you saw them get even redder, "..Because when you lie on this side in bed..", He pointed with his hand to the side of the bed facing the window, "..the moon shines on you... And...", he paused and you looked into each other's eyes. He sighed quitley.

"I love you... y/n.. I don't know since when... But... it feels like...", but you just kissed him.

He was irritated at first, but didn't hesitate long and returned the kiss. His lips felt warm and soft. The taste of the wine was on his lips. Your lips were sore and red when you first broke the kiss. You just looked at each other and smiled. You have not said much. Aemond's hand was on your cheek. Slowly he stroked your cheek with his fingers. His thumb gently caressed your lips. Until he leaned forward again and you kissed once more. You couldn't ignore the warmth and pinching between your thighs any longer and slid closer to him. But you broke the kiss again. You looked at each other, your breathing was rapid. Aemond gently stroked your arms. No one said anything. You looked deep into each other's eyes and somehow it seemed clear, you both wanted the same thing. Aemond kissed you gently and rolled onto you carefully. As he lay on top of you and pressed his hips against you, you felt something hard. It pressed right against your warm core. But it felt strangely good when Aemond pressed his hips against you. A soft moan came from you.

That night you sleep together. He was your first man. You were both inexperienced and so you both explored your bodies together. You undressed each other. You let your hands wander over each other's bodies. Every time your hands discovered a new spot, soft moans and gasps filled your chambers. You giggled a lot and kissed a lot more. It was indescribably beautiful. The act itself, when he was finally inside you, didn't last long. But you will never forget how much you felt connected to him all the time.

Aemond held you all night. He lay close to your back. You felt his chest against your body. How it slowly rose and fell. Again and again he gently kissed your neck.

The next morning, as usual, he was no longer there. At dawn he always left your chambers secretly so as not to be caught.

At noon a servant came to you, your mother wished to see you. When you arrived to meet her, she informed you that you would be temporarily relocating to Dragonstone. While she didn't provide any specific reasons, she did explain that this would be an opportunity for you to receive the necessary training and preparation to eventually assume the throne.

But you did not want to go.

"Mother... no... I will not leave the capital," you told her.

"Yes, you will. On Dragonstone you will be prepared to rule the realm one day"

You snorted, "Why can't I be prepared for that here? Here, I could see first-hand how the decisions of the realm are made"

You felt yourself getting angry.

Your mother had shaken her head slightly, "To understand these political decisions, you must first understand the political theories on which these decisions are based. Then you can deal with making decisions. And on Dragonstone, you don't need to fear any distractions"

Tears came to your eyes. But you refused to cry now. You knew your mother and the look in her eyes. The discussion was over.

You went to see Aemond. In his chambers you told him about it.

He simply looked at you. For the first time you could not interpret the look on his face.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked quietly.

Silence reigned in his chambers.

"I... I don't know... My mother said it would be the right thing... To prepare me for my regency... I... I don't know...", you were unsettled.

Aemond clenched his hands into fists, "But you must know if you want to go!"

Aemond was feeling very worried and anxious. He was afraid of losing you because you were the most important and positive aspect of his life.

"Then tell me to stay!" you suddenly shouted at him. You were angry. Those you don't want to hear it from tell you what to do. And the one person you wish would tell you what to do doesn't tell you what to do... that you should stay.

But he just looks at you, "You know I can't do that... I can't say that... You have to do what is right," he said almost coldly. He had to pull himself together not to cross the room, to take you in his arms. He wanted you to stay... that he was the right one for you.

But you understood it differently. That he didn't want you to stay.

So you just nodded, "Very well... If that's what you want. Then I'll go"

Tears welled up in your eyes. He said your name, but you just left his chambers.

That night Aemond did not come to your chambers.

You spend the next few years on Dragonstone. You actually had enough time there to prepare for your duties as queen by studying and learning political theory. However, you can't help but wonder if you could have achieved the same level of preparation by staying in King's Landing and discussing these topics with Aemond…

You miss Aemond. Terribly much. Your memories of your last night together are beautiful, but the fact that you were torn apart makes it all the more difficult to bear. You often lie awake for hours. You long for the times when Aemond would come to your bed and you could talk for hours. You miss his embrace... Whenever you receive a letter from King's Landing, you hope to hear something about Aemond, but unfortunately, you don't get any news. You're afraid to reach out to him because you don't want to be rejected, even though you can't stand the silence.

Meanwhile, Aemond is suffering just as much as you are. He longs for you and misses you dearly. He can't sleep at night because he constantly thinks about you. He is restless at night. He is restless because he yearns for your physical presence - your body, warmth, and gentle breathing beside him.

He needs your presence and comfort by his side. He remembers when he told you to do the right thing and go away, and those words still haunt him to this day. He wishes he could take it back and instead ask you to stay.

But now the time had come for you to go back to King's Landing. Your grandsire, King Viserys, is getting worse and your mother is to take the throne after his death. The flight to King's Landing is quiet. The wind blows through your hair as you watch the water pass beneath you. Blackfyre enjoys the flight. Your brothers and your stepfather Daemon are flying with you. And then you see it in the distance. The walls of the capital appear in the distance.

Aemond is in the library. He is sitting by the window reading a book. When a shadow passes in the sky, he looks up. He sees a big dragon in the sky and it is not Vhagar. A smile curls his lips. He is paralysed for a moment, but then he slams the book shut and gets up from his chair.

As you and your family are welcomed into the courtyard, Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena smile at you. Aemond is not to be seen. You smile politely, but the thought spreads through your mind that Aemond might not want to see you.

But Aemond is too excited. His hands tremble slightly. Like the night you made love for the first time. He walks towards the dragonpit, he wants to ride Vhagar. But when he arrives at the dragonpit, he is distracted. He sees Blackfyre and has to smile. He pauses for a moment as Blackfyre slowly turns her head in his direction. Cautiously, he walks towards Blackfyre, slowly raising his hand. She recognises him and grumbles slightly. As he stands beside her, he gently strokes her neck. He immediately feels her warmth flooding his palm.

"Rytsas gevie...", he whispers (Hello beautiful). She grumbles slightly again.

"Gaomagon ao remember nyke?" he says softly with a smile on his lips (Do you remember me)

When suddenly another voice sounds.

"Sīr ao sepār dekuragon bē naejot iā strange zaldrīzes?" you stand behind him (So you just step up to a strange dragon)

He stiffens for a moment.

"Issa daor bona strange..," he replies without turning around (She's not that strange..)

You have to smile as he slowly turns around. He smiles too and you are speechless. He has grown into an impressive man. Even through his clothes you can see that his slim, tall body must have more muscles. His hair is longer and falls over his shoulder. It is tied slightly so that it does not fall in his face. The scar looks much better, it seems to have healed.

"Have you taken care of your scar?" you ask gently.

He nods slightly. The smile does not leave his lips.

"With the ointment... that I... applied every night?", you whisper.

He nods again, "The maesters wanted to try another one in the meantime... But I didn't want to..." he says softly.

You smile softly.

He slowly approaches you and takes you in his arms without hesitation. You put your arms around his body.

"I missed you," he whispers.

You just nod, wanting to hold back the tears.

After a while he leans back, looks you in the face, "And... have you learned how to rule?" he smiles at you.

You laugh lightly, "Oh get ready for something... my brain has been fed so much information..."

He chuckles softly, "I'm curious..."

You sit down behind Blackfyre, leaning against the walls of the dragonpit and talk. Just like you did when you were children.

When all of a sudden he looks at you, "You know... So much has happened. In the time that you weren't there"

You nod slightly, "I know..." you say softly.

He lets his hands slide over his thighs and sighs. His gaze is fixed on the floor, "I am to wed a Baratheon daughter," he says softly.

It is quiet in the dragonpit. Your chest tightens. It is hard for you to breathe. You have expected this, but still you do not know how to deal with it.

As he slowly turns his gaze to you to see your reaction, you just nod slowly.

Tears welling up in your eyes. Your eyes burn and your throat tightens. You clear your throat. You don't want him to see you like this. When he looks at the floor again, you quickly wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

After a few moments you catch yourself, "And...? Do you want to wed her?" you ask quietly.

He snorts, "You know very well that I don't want to..."

You nod again, "Yes... But we have to do what's right..."

You look at him and he looks you straight in the eye. At first you see pure pain in his gaze, when suddenly his gaze warms.

He nods slowly, "Fuck it, yeah. I have to do the right thing," he says suddenly.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. The love he had for you inside him had build to its maximum, beyond the point of logic or reason, and he gave himself over to you. His mind and heart become one as the two of you kissed. The world around you seemed to disappear, and all that mattered was the feeling of your body against his, and the taste of your lips against his.

You are startled at first. You feel the emotions in this kiss, how Aemond gives himself to you. But you can't help yourself, you return his kiss and pull him towards you. His hand is on your neck, his thumb gently strokes your cheek as he deepens the kiss. His touch... his hand on your neck, his lips on yours... It is all you feel. He is so close to you in that moment. Your lips, your mouths... You breath your breath into each other's. There are no word's, there is only your kiss.

Slowly you undo the buckles of his waistcoat. You interrupt the kiss. Your lips are reddish from your passionate kisses. You kiss gently along his jaw, down to his neck. nibbling lightly on the soft skin. You hear him moan lightly. Your breath is warm against his neck and your lips on his skin were like a flame.

He takes your face in his hands, you look into each other's eyes. You are breathing heavily. He pulls you close, gently kisses your nose. His hands slide from your face down to your shoulders, slowly he starts to open your dress. Gently he slips your dress over your shoulder. His lips follow his fingers. Soft kisses find their way onto your collarbone. He slides your dress further down and his lips leave a fiery trail on your skin. You moan softly as his lips are on your breast, gently cupping your nipple. He moves his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth. You gasp out and again a moan comes from your lips. Gently he sucks on the sensitive skin. His teeth lightly graze your nipple and he bites down gently. You hiss slightly and your hands slide into his hair, you grab him by the hair and pull him closer to you.

His hands pull your dress further down. You feel your arousal rising between your legs. You press your thighs together a little, hoping to experience some satisfaction. You take his face in your hands, pull him to you and kiss him greedily, you are panting. You feel him grinning against your lips. Carefully you bite his lip. He hisses and you chuckle lightly. Your hands slide down his chest and undo more buckles on his waistcoat. He takes off his waistcoat and lays it on the dusty ground. You sit down on the waistcoat and watch him take off his vest. Your gaze immediately falls on his upper body. On his soft skin that now has a few more scars. But you also notice that his upper body is really more defined. You bite your lip lightly. You take hold of his neck and pull him towards you. Wild kisses of a dance of tongues and teeth follow. Blackfyre moves slightly beside you. But she turns a little further in front of you so that you are shielded from all possible glances and her gaze is directed towards the entrance.

Aemond gently pushes you to the ground and kneels between your legs. His kisses become softer and you feel him gently slide his fingers up your thigh. You moan into his mouth as his fingers slide through your wet folds without warning.

"Mmmh... you really missed me," he says softly.

You try to bite his lip again, but he pulls his head away quickly enough and grins. Instead he lets his fingers continue to slide through your folds, spreading your arousal along them. You whimper.

He kisses you again as he leaves gentle but firm circles on your pearl. Your breathing becomes heavier.

"Aemond... please..." you gasp against his lips.

His fingers are instantly away from your folds and you hear a buckle open. Almost immediately you feel the tip of his hard cock slide through your folds. His gaze is fixed precisely on the tip of his cock soaking itself with your arousal. He groans at the sight. He looks at you again and sees you biting your lower lip. He leans forward, devouring more of your kisses. Slowly he pushes forward, guides his hot length into you. You both moan as he pushes further in. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Slowly he pushes forward, he gasps.

"Seven hells... you're so tight," he whispers, breathing heavily.

You only whimper. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming.

He continues to thrust, penetrating you further with each thrust. You move your hips rhythmically towards him to meet his thrusts on the way. His thrusts get harder and your breasts bounce every time his pelvis slams into yours. He grunts deeply and grips one of your breasts with his hand. Lightly he squeezes it and bends down. His thrusts don't let up as he encircles your nipple again with his mouth. You cry out and grab his arms.

He looks up at you, "My love... do you want us to get caught?" he whispers.

You bite your lips. He turns his attention back to your nipple. Lets his tongue glide gently around before he nibbles lightly on it again. He moans softly as he notices your walls clench slightly around him. He lets go of your nipple and kisses you again. He leans back a little, gently grips your thigh and wraps it around his waist. You cry out again and try to muffle it in his neck. His thrusts become harder. His eye is closed and he moans deeply as he buries himself in you to the hilt of his cock. Again and again he pushes against your sweet spot. You lie under him and just whimper. You reach for his arms and dig your fingernails into his biceps. "Aemond..." you gasp, "deeper..."

He opens his eye, but the purple in his eye is almost unrecognisable. His eye is blown with lust. Wordlessly he takes your leg from his hip and places it along his torso. Your foot rests on his shoulder and he leans further down towards you.

"Oooh... Fuuuck...", you gasp.

Each thrust hurts, but the pain feels so good. You are convinced that he is going to split you. With a brutal speed, he thrusts into you. With each thrust, his balls slap against your ass and are soaked with your arousal. You whimper as you feel the pressure building in your lower belly.

"I... I'm... so close..." you moan.

Aemond reaches between your bodies and applies pressure to your clit. He notices you clenching hard around his cock.

"Love... come... cum on my cock...", he grunts deeply.

With that he pushes you over the edge. You cry out. He tries to muffle your moans by enclosing your lips with his. Your fingers dig deep into his shoulder. Your walls want to pull his cock in further, want to milk him. He feels his balls twitch. He pulls his cock out of you as he feels his cock start to twitch too. You whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. He moans and grunts deeply, spreading his seed in the dirt beside you. You are both breathing heavily. Slowly you let your leg slide off his shoulder. Aemond smiles at you, breathing heavily. He looks exhausted, but he is smiling. He lies down beside you.

You look at him and whisper, breathing heavily, "That was better than the first time"

You look at each other for a moment before you both laugh. You turn to him and he puts his arms around you.

After a while, you look up at him, "And... have you seen your betrothed yet?"

He chuckles softly, "No... not yet..."

You smile slightly, "Will you..."

"...I'm not going to wed her," he interrupts you. You look at him, he gently strokes your cheek.

"I don't know how yet. But I will talk to my mother... I..." you notice how he is almost hesitant, almost shy.

"You want to ask if you can wed me?" you ask softly.

He looks at you slightly uncertainly, "Well... If... If you don't want to..."

You just kiss him, "Silly boy..." you whisper.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357

#aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #hotd #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon aemond #aemond drabble #aemond one eye #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond x reader #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

[eliluvschan]

Tutor

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 512

warnings: fluffy, is it suggestive? i'm not sure. + pls tell me if there's something else

genre: fluff

a/n: wrote this really fast right before i had my English exam [which i aced] so enjoy this one while i go celebrate :) enjooooy

i wrapped my hair up in a towel and put on a robe.

when i stepped out of the bathroom, i heard a knock from downstairs.

i put on my slippers and went down. when i opened the door, he was standing there.

“oh..” he looked me up and down. “i’m sorry. i had nothing to do and came earlier.” he laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck.

i could feel myself getting red.

“come in.” i bit my lip.

i closed the door and shook my head as his back was turned to me.

“to get a head start.” he said as i walked him over to the dining table.

“of course.” i said. “uh, just give me a few minutes. i’ll be right back.”

he nodded and sat down. i practically ran up the stairs.

“shit.” i yanked the towel off of my head.

i went over to my dresser, sliding on a clean underwear and putting on a bra. i took off my robe and grabbed a pair of black sweats and a random crewneck.

after quickly blow drying my hair, i grabbed my things and went downstairs.

“i’m so sorry.” i said, sitting down on the chair next to him.

''naurr, i'm sorry.'' he said, his thick Australian accent coming through. ''i have a tendency to show up early to things without warning. i should have called.''

i just nodded.

''let's get started?'' he raised an eyebrow at me.

''yeah.''

long story short, i'm failing entry level Korean.

my teacher reached out to my parents and he said Chan could tutor me. since he's also fluent in English. at first i denied the help, but my mother insisted. and now, he's here.

i opened my Korean textbook to the first page.

there was a list of basic vocabulary and some practice sentences at the bottom of it.

''so, what is it you're having trouble with?''

''everything.'' i scoffed.

''how come?''

''because mr. Lee is so boring and i just can't pay attention to anything that goes on in class. i just don't like Korean. at all.''

he looked at me like i insulted him.

''no offence.'' i reassured.

why did i just say that? he's literally Korean, and trying to help me pass this class. idiot.

''none taken.'' he said. ''do you at least know what yes and no are?''

''네 and 아니요.''

''good.'' he said. ''let's just start with a simple introductory sentence.''

i nodded.

''repeat after me.''

''alright.''

''제'' he started.

''제'' i repeated.

''이름은'' he continued.

''이름은''

''Y/n''

''Y/n''

''입니다.''

''입니다.''

the way the words fell so smoothly and perfectly from his lips practically made me drool.

''very good.'' he grinned. ''i can teach you another simple sentence.''

''okay..''

''키스해주세요.'' he said slowly.

''키스해주세요.'' i repeated. ''what does it mean?''

''kiss me.''

before i knew it, his lips were already on mine while his hand stroked over my right cheek. it took a while for us to pull away from each other.

''like Korean now?''

''네.''

~

#skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenarios #bang chris #christopher bang #bang chan fic

[the-writer-arrived]

Wedding Bells Underwater

Synopsis: after things have finally settled down in fontaine, wriothesley can finally fulfill the promise he made to avice and faissolle. watching their dream come true makes the duke think about his own future, one with you, he hopes.

Character: wriothesley.

Warnings: gn!reader; established relationship; spoilers for wriothesley's story quest.

A/N: i got so happy that they were included as a nice easter egg on wrio's birthday art 🥺

"...I'm sorry, you want me to do WHAT?"

"Help me organize Avice and Faissolle's wedding."

You stare dumbly at Wriothesley, the faint music coming from the gramophone the only sound in his office while you try to gather your thoughts. Has the workload finally taking its toll on him? Surely he knows that you have zero experience in organizing a wedding???

"It's nothing too complex like you're thinking. I just want you to act as a 'bridge' between the couple and me, since I have other matters regarding the Fortress and can't focus solely on them."

You make a 'ohhhh' expression, now understanding what is expected of you.

"Why didn't you say so from the very beggining?"

"Because I wanted to see what kind of face you'd make. And I must say, you never disappoint sweetheart."

Like the mature adult that you are, you decide to not say the snarky remark you thought and simply leave his office to look for the said couple.

(It's a lie, you stick out your tongue childishly and rushed out of the room before your lover considers cuffing you for disrespecting authority. Not that you would mind it that much).

----------

For someone who knew basically nothing about planning a wedding, you got into it pretty quickly... Maybe a bit too into it, if you were being honest.

The decorations, the location, the order of the events, the dress! Blame it on your perfectionist side, but really, after everything Avice and Faissolle went through in the Beret Society incident, they deserved a perfect wedding.

Even if it wasn't going to be a large scale event, due to all the limitations that comes with choosing the Fortress of Meropide as the venue and the couple's own wish for keeping it simple, there still was a lot of work to do. Knowing that, Wriothesley announced that those who help with the preparations would be awarded with double Credit Cupons. Suffice to say that you got all the workforce needed pretty quickly for the preparations to go smoothly.

After many meetings, headaches and shipment delays, you can now admire the results of yours, Wriothesley's and all the volunteers' hard work.

"Didn't know you had a secret talent for this. Ever considered changing careers?" The man beside you asks quietly while the bride and groom are giving their speech.

"Archons forbid! Do you have any idea how stressful that was? I have a newfound respect for professional wedding planners." You whisper back, remembering the way you basically passed out in bed the day before, all the stress and sleepless nights knocking you out.

Before he could say anything else, the spotlight shines above him and all the guests turn to look at your table.

"Your Grace, words are not enough to properly thank you for everything you've done for us. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be standing here and be able to call Avice my wife." Faissolle's words falter, him and his bride trying hard to control the tears. Wriothesley smiles at them, raising his glass in appreciation for their words.

"Of course, we can't forget the one responsable for turning our ideas into reality." The spotlight is now shining on you as well and you feel your face warming at the sudden attention. "Thank you so much for creating such an incredible wedding for us, we'll never forget this day."

Everyone raises their glasses in a toast for the newlyweds, cheers running through the crowd of guests when the couple finishes their speech.

----------

"...A penny for your thoughts, Your Grace? Or does it require Credit Cupons as well?"

You nudge your lover's arm to get his attention, seeing his faraway look.

"Oh yes, at least 500 Credit Cupons for such information." He chuckles when you roll your eyes. A beat of silence falls and you wait patiently for him to continue, if he wishes to do so. "I was just thinking that, in all the years I've been in the Fortress, I've never imagined I'd one day have it decorated for a wedding, of all things."

Wriothesley's eyes run along the tables of guests, the other former members of the Beret Society and others who became friends with Faissolle and Avice, all smiling happily and having a good time. A peculiar sight to see when you remember this merry ceremony is taking place inside a prison.

His attention returns to you at the feeling of your hand slipping into his, fingers entwining themselves with his easily like two puzzle pieces.

"That means all of your hard work is bearing fruit. The Fortress of Meropide can also be a place of good memories and new beginnings. The proof of that is right in front of you."

The Duke knows you must have meant the event, but, to him, his good memories and new beginning are you, always have and hopefully always will be.

Throughout the process of organizing the wedding, Wriothesley had wondered what kind of ceremony you would wish for. A big and impressive one? Or maybe a more low-key one, with just your close friends and family? What kind of attire would you like to wear? From Chioriya Boutique, of course, nothing but the best for his darling in their special day.

"Everyone! I'm going to throw the bouquet now!" The bride announces, causing a buzz among the excited guests.

"So? Should we go too?" Your boyfriend asks with a smirk and a playful glint in his eyes.

"Why not? Since we're here, we might as well have the full experience!"

There's already a crowd gathered in front of Avice when you and Wriothesley decide to join them. You both don't really mind though, choosing to stay at the back and observe the enthusiasm of others.

One could think it's funny how excited someone could be at the chance of getting the bride's bouquet, a chance of getting married in the future. Or maybe, it's not about marriage at all, but actually for the idea of having a better future after their sentence time is fulfilled.

Or maybe it's all just a projection of the Duke's own feelings about this.

...Who knew a celebration like this would make him think about things he's never considered before?

He shakes his head to clear his mind. You both weren't there to try and catch the bouquet for real, so there's no need to think too deeply about it.

Unbeknownst to him, fate had other plans.

It all happens too fast. At one moment, you watch Avice throw the flowers high into the air; at the next, you feel someone bump into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward. Thanks to Wriothesley's quick reflexes, he manages to prevent your fall by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. And then, you find yourself staring at the bouquet that had landed right into your arms.

What in the world?!

"Ohhhh they caught it!"

"Man, I wanted that bouquet..."

"Does that mean we're going to hear news about the Duke's wedding soon?!"

"It's about time for His Grace to tie the knot!"

The comments, cheers and the sheer craziness of this unexpected twist makes you laugh, both in embarrasment and disbelief.

In amidst of all the excitement around you both, Wriothesley can't help but think that that must have been Celestia's sign for him to stop wasting time and go after the bright future that awaits him.

Now, what would be the best ring to buy for his future spouse?

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink wriothesley banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

#blue.writes: genshin impact #blue.writes: wriothesley #blue.writes: fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader

[stinkysam]

Monkey D. Luffy - Always together.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "Luffy and reader being childhood friends and making a promise to get married but reader leaves the island, but they eventually meet again and readers a super powerful swordsman and luffys absolutely mesmerized and they catch up and I guess they eventually get together???" - anon

Reader : male (you/he)

A/N : Part TWO

"Let's get married one day."

"Why ?" Luffy answered flatly, his pinky finger digging in his nostril.

"So we can be together forever !" You grinned, proud of your idea.

"Mmmmmmh… okay !" Luffy smiled too, extending his hand for you to shake and make this promise official.

You two giggled happily with your plan to stay together, unaware this was your last one with each other. You left the islands a few days later.

You don't remember why, each time your parents tried to tell you you became too angry and upset at the idea of leaving Luffy to listen. Yelling and crying, snot everywhere on your face as you waved him goodbye from your small boat.

But things have changed now. You had grown and were not a crybaby anymore. You were a renowned swordsman, known on all the seas.

Since you've seen Luffy's wanted poster, you went after him, but in the end, he's the one that found you. They stopped at an island to get some food stock. They heard a loud crash and some yelling. Marines. After a single person. You.

You ran past them quickly, not even seeing Luffy. But he saw you and recognized you instantly. He ran too and the rest of his crew followed. He grinned widely as his eyes were on you.

He watched you defeat the marines easily, your sword cutting them smoothly before they could get the time to parry you. You cut the last man after you in half and before you could notice Luffy, his stretched hands were already on you.

He grabbed you and threw himself on you, wrapping lengths and lengths of his arms around you, caging you in his embrace as if to make sure you don't get away.

"Luffy ?!"

"Luffy !" Nami yelled, clearly afraid of you. Usopp did the same. Why was Luffy casually hugging a deadly and notorious swordsman ?!

Zoro straightened when he saw your face, placing a hand on his swords. Sanji straightened too, if Zoro was ready to fight, so was he. He didn't know Zoro had you in his list of people to defeat.

"Luffy, who's- who's that ?" Asked Usopp, shaking and out of breath.

"This ?" Luffy pointed to you as he finally let go of you. "That's [Name]. He's my friend !" He said grinning.

"This is [Last name] [Name], he has a bounty of-" Began Nami only to be cut off by Zoro.

"Soon to be lower than mine." He announced confidently, taking a step forward.

"Oh ?" You raised an eyebrow, turning your head to him, clearly interested. You smiled and awkwardly waved at them before turning your attention back to Luffy.

"I see you have become quite the pirate !" You say, grabbing his cheeks and stretching them. "Didn't expect less from you." You added and Luffy giggled proudly at your words.

"And you became a swordsman ! I wonder who would win between you and Zoro."

"I'd win." / "Me obviously." You both said in unissons to then glare at the other as if you were ready to go fight, making Luffy laugh once more clapping his hands together.

Nami sighed.

"Maybe we should head somewhere else." She said, "Where there's less… decapitated marines on the ground."

You looked around, as if you had forgotten about them and nodded.

You helped them take some stock of food to the Merry and they left with you, getting you away from the marines to have some peace for a moment.

Luffy couldn't stop grinning each time his eyes fell on you or when he thought of you.

He listened intently to your stories while Zoro, Nami and Usopp slowly warmed up to you. Sanji was already coming along, preferring you over the moss head.

It's been a few days now and you were still with them on the Merry.

You were currently stargazing with Luffy, well, to be honest, he tried to get a midnight snack and got kicked out of the kitchen and sent laying on the floor, you just joined him, beer in hand.

After a moment, he spoke.

"[Name], do you remember our promise ?" Luffy asks, staring at you with a smile as you bring your beer to your lips.

"To marry each other to be together forever ? Yeah. I thought you'd forget about it since I left."

"I thought you had forgotten !" He says. That's true. As you left with your parents, Luffy had thought the promise was broken and you didn't want to marry him after all. But Shanks told him the only way to make sure was to find you again. And he did !

"Hey, that wasn't my idea to leave ! But… why do you ask ?" You tilt your head, growing interested. You never thought he'd remember about it and even less mention it.

"Well, I thought about it-"

"You ? Thinking ? Unlikely."

"Shut up ! I've grown since then ! I'm not a kid anymore !" He grimaced and crossed his arms, making you laugh.

Luffy groaned, annoyed by your teasing.

"Alright, alright, go ahead, what did you want to say ?" You said, taking a sip of your beer.

He debated whether to tell you or not. Not because he was hesitant or shy, but because right now, he was truly vexed. He thinks. A lot of thoughts go behind those eyes, okay ?

"Fine." He finally said, slightly reluctant. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend ?" He asks, not an ounce of hesitation in his words, his big eyes on you as his smile reappears again.

You almost spat out your drink, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

"Huh ?"

"I told you ! I thought about it ! And I like you. I want you to be my boyfriend, [Name]." He said, looking at you with expectant eyes. "So we can get married and stay together forever !"

His smile never faltered as he waited for your answer. You looked away, trying to regain your composure and act confident.

"So ? What do you say ? Boyfriends ?"

You could only smile at his eagerness, his own excitement being contagious.

"Yeah. Boyfriends."

#male reader #m!reader #one piece #opla #one piece live action #opla luffy #one piece imagine #one piece x male reader #opla x male reader #one piece live action imagine #monkey d luffy #monkey D luffy imagine #monkey d luffy x male reader

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter I : Apollo

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Summary: Enter: A man who is not so much a man, but an effigy, a wound of steel and armor and Creed – secrecy and masked faces, above all else. 

Enter: A girl who is not a girl, but a creature helmed in darkness and spit out unto the galaxy broken and unmoored. 

Enter: The creation of myth.

Content Warnings: Dominant Din Djarin; Unprotected sex; Creampie;Size difference; Size kink; Rough sex; Overstimulation; Spanking; Brat taming; Touched-Starved Din Djarin

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Hello, friends, and welcome to the new story! 

A few notes: We are starting prior to season one’s canon, and I am doing what I want and making it so that Din already knows about the Force and the Jedi. I make free use of canon and the timeline in whatever way I see fit to suit my own horny purposes, sorry. If things aren’t canon or don’t make sense pls don’t tell me. I am naught but a fragile flower who wilts under harsh criticism. 

Please note as well, that I do describe the FMC as having two different colored eyes although I do not specify what color they are. 

Also, I will be updating the tags as we go along so as to avoid spoiling too much too early on. 

Thank you and enjoy!

Word count: 8.1K

Read on AO3

PART I

CHAPTER I : APOLLO

Is it a god inside you, girl?

Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides

The first time you meet, he’s sitting in the corner of the shithole cantina on the shithole backwater planet you currently find yourself on: Nevarro. Sometimes you were wont to flight – in search of a nowhere place in the middle of a nowhere part of the galaxy to lose yourself. And the barren landscape of the volcanic planet, a broken star of red, the only interruption in the black field of ash, no wind, no life, no sound; it provides the perfect environment for getting lost when necessary.

And then one day, unexpectedly: him. He is a shining, metallic, mountain of a man. 

Mandalorian. 

Whenever you’d felt too suffocated, strangulated, in need of a moment, a breather, a reprieve from the reality of what you were… what you are becoming – this place is enough of nothing to be just the perfect something. When you’re not busy flitting from planet to planet, sector to sector, looking for something to fill the gnawing void within you. Before landing here, you’d been on Sorgan for a time. It’d been… nice… peaceful, or whatever approximation of peace you could partially recognize after an existence such as that which you were currently trying to run from. A temperate climate, kind people, but after a while, you’d happened upon a community one day, and they’d been so… so together, so familiar. Happy, they’d be so openly, unabashedly, uncomplicatedly happy. It was simple, and it had made a terrible lance of poisonous jealousy roil through you. Jealousy and anger and bitterness and a loneliness so painful that you’d had to flee, as far and as fast as you could from the reflection of all your envy and shame. And so you’d come here instead, to Nevarro. A more barren, emptier sort of place – better suited to your ilk. 

“I’ve never met a Mandalorian before,” you croon up at him, smoothly sliding into the booth he’s currently occupying in the furthest dark corner of the cantina, only the gleaming silver crescent of the curve of his helmet visible from the other side of the room. 

This is the first of many lies you will tell him. 

No response. Only the dark, yawning pit of his visor faced slightly away from you. 

The stark curve of his helmet gleams brightly. Beautiful. He looks strong, thickly built. His shoulders, so broad. The armor adorning his torso is beaten and worn, and yet, there’s something so… what’s the word? Lived, perhaps, about the facade of him. This is a creature who has lived – who has seen things, who has battled and survived and most assuredly killed. 

Maybe a little like you, but good. For this you know with certainty about Mandalorians – a flash of a pained scream, beskar crumbling beneath the force of you, for not even what could be considered the most endurable alloy in the galaxy could withstand something of your nature, blood, so much blood, and the sound of such defeat as you do the unforgivable– they are good and honorable and worthy – great warriors. But perhaps, on the surface, with a face of shared, painful history, of survival, maybe there are some things between the two of you which could be called similar. 

“I’ve always been curious, though… Always wanted to meet one.” You sidle closer to him. There’s something about him, the weapons, the breadth of his shoulders, the silence, which starts a chilled little shiver of fear that flashes and coalesces into something hotter and wetter deep in your belly, the closer you get to him. And the feeling of it – of apprehension, of standing in the presence of something other, something that could perhaps best, even you, it is exciting and arousing and different to everything else you’ve ever encountered.

Still no response. 

“You’re hard to come by now. Not many of you left, right?” A curdle of shame and regret hidden beneath your wry tone, “A girl’s got to get extra lucky to find something as interesting as you nowadays… something as pretty too.”

He does react to this, finally, and a little shock of victory fizzes in your belly at the fact that he’s at last deigned to give you even a semblance of his attention, for you are desperately in want of it, as he turns his helmet the fraction of an inch in your direction at the sound of you calling him pretty. So, it seems even a Mandalorian is victim to vanity. 

“Oh, so you can hear under there,” you quip, “I was beginning to worry…”

And then his voice, deep, and of potentially the lowest and smoothest baritone you’ve ever heard, comes through the modulator, “I can hear.” Clipped, and even maybe, a little cold. 

“And he speaks too!” He flexes open the fingers of the gloved hand that lays on the table. You’re annoying him. “How exciting.” You cross one knee over the other, elbow propped up on the edge of the table and chin cupped in your palm, looking up at him. He’s tall, even sitting. Your joint presses into the hard muscle of his thigh, and you feel him scoot just the tiniest bit away from you. You have the uncontrollable urge to snap your teeth at him. You must surely be at least half his size, especially with all that beskar covering him. Don’t act so scared, big, bad Mandalorian. I’m just a little girl. You don’t know what I actually am.

Helmet now turned entirely in your direction to keep an eye on you, he says, “What are you?” Or… whoops, maybe he does know. 

You ignore his question. “You know, I met a whore once – who claimed she’d fucked a Mandalorian. Is it true you just pull out the important bits and get on with it? Seems a bit cold, no? Even for a paid fuck?” He jolts a little at your vulgarity, and you flash him a wide grin, wriggle one delicate eyebrow provocatively. “No game?”

He turns his body to face you more fully now too, his thigh pressing into yours once again as he takes you on directly. Perhaps a warrior's instinct that can sense he is not in the presence of something to be trifled with. The helmet cocks slowly to the side. Silent, silent. Not one for many words this Mandalorian, although, it seems you’ve provoked him now. 

“What are you?” he says again, voice measured. 

“How do you mean?” You let your voice end on an upward lilt, and he shifts minutely, as if agitated at your uncooperativeness. 

“You’re not– I don’t–” The helmet tilts the other way as if inspecting you, and you cut him off before he can finish. 

“Oh, so many things.” You roll your hand on your wrist in a fluttering wave, tapping your fingers quickly against your thumb one by one, flexing a muscle you’ve not allowed yourself to use in a while and repressing it, all at once. You’re watching him so closely you see the small pivot of his neck to glance at your hand, and then back to your face. “Who can keep track anymore? So many strange creatures roaming the galaxy after the fall of everything. The Empire. We’re all just madly careening around as whatever the moment requires of us, aren’t we?” He’s quiet, still inspecting you, and you feel his gaze like a brand on the skin of your face. Like fire, like something that you remember from a nightmare, and that you think should be painful, but now only feels exciting. “So, what are you, Mandalorian? What does the present moment require of you?”

He goes silent again, and you watch the subtle downward tilt of his helmet as he inspects the length of you. You wish you could see if he was ogling the tight swell of your breasts beneath your dark clothes. You tilt your head side to side, smile big at him again, and you’re pretty sure you hear an agitated little huff of annoyance slip through the modulator.

And then: “I’m not interested.” He turns back to face away from you, both fists now firmly planted on the table’s surface, clenched into tight balls of clear annoyance. “Go away.”

Oh, he’s funny too. You throw your head back in a quick laugh, “Did I offer something?”

Silence.

“Dirty mind, Mandalorian.” You drag the vowels out to irk him just that extra bit more. “What? Just because I made one little mention of a whore means that, I too, must be peddling my wares?” And you knock your knee into his beskar clad thigh again. He scoots a smidge away from you, and you follow him, laughing again. Oh, you really should stop provoking him, but it’s just turning out to be too much fun. And you’d been watching him for weeks now, every time he came in here for a new bounty puck. You’d so wanted to talk to him, had snooped around to find out he’s in the Guild, and now you finally are. It was just too much for a girl who had too much time on her hands, and too many ugly thoughts she’d rather forget, roaming around in her mind, to look away from a moment of distraction such as this. 

“Stop,” and it sounds like he’s gritting his teeth. 

You snicker. “Stop what?” in a sing-songed lilt that you know must be grinding his gears. Poor, shiny Mandalorian. 

“Whatever it is you’re doing – speaking to me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“What could I possibly want from you?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Who’s the one peddling their wares now, Mandalorian, hmm?” He says nothing now, and you know you’re pushing him, you can see the vibration of his restrained agitation in the lines of his thick arms, but there is something needling and annoying and obnoxious inside of you that wants his attention, that wants to incite him. And so you make a mistake that perhaps, is not a mistake at all, but a call for something more, for a reaction from him because as you slowly start to lift a single finger up towards the curve of his helmet, you say, “Tell me, what do you have to offer?” At the same time, he pivots and snaps up to grasp the thin of your wrist in a bone crushing grip as you’re about to make contact with the smooth surface of the gleaming beskar helmet. And you know you were asking for it, that you should never have even insinuated that you were going to touch a Mandalorian’s helmet, and that this is only your own doing, but as his harsh strength makes contact with you, so unexpectedly, he’s so fast, that you’re caught almost entirely unaware, you react on pure instinct. A reflex so embedded into the deepest and most poisoned recesses of your mind, that despite the fact that you know this is the last sort of reaction you should exhibit, that above all else you needed to keep this part of yourself hidden and secreted away from the rest of the galaxy, you can’t help yourself when, at the moment that his crushing strength slams your hand back down onto the table, twisting painfully so that you’re crying out in shock and hurt, you weren’t going to do anything to him, you just wanted to touch a little, you can’t help it when you let go of the reins on your power, and you feel the Force snap out of you like a band of rubber, to crack out and wrap around his arm and rip his painful grip away from you. Another inviolable tendril shoves against his chest plate to push him back. His movements, too abrupt, too unexpectedly aggressive to give you a moment to temper your reaction, to give you a chance to remind yourself that this is not one of your painful, dark memories, that you’re free, you’re free, you’re free, and suppress your reaction to not reveal yourself.

The two of you pause for one long moment, him by force, and you in shock and fear and slight nausea as you pant breathlessly. It’s been a long time since you’ve lashed out like this, since you’ve used the Force in front of another person, and the sensation of being perceived, of being seen for what you truly are is disequilibrating and terrifying and sickeningly liberating all at the same time. 

One thick arm of his is held up and pinned against the back of the booth the two of you are ensconced in, hidden from prying eyes, at least. His legs start to shift restlessly, seeking purchase or trying to kick out, and you pin him there too, lest he try and hurt you again. 

“I do not like to be handled so,” you admonish him, clicking your tongue. You can feel the seething fury rolling off him. “I wasn’t going to do anything to you. I am not going to do anything to you.” He’s got a blaster strapped into a holster at his thigh, and you’re sure his vambrace is hiding several other nasty tricks up his sleeve. You eye them both. “If I let you go, are you going to try and hurt me again?”

“No,” he growls out.

“No,” you mock back, but release him anyway, letting an impenetrable wall settle between the two of you. He immediately goes for his blaster, and you block his reach which has him furiously growling and lurching towards you, only to be met by the invisible Force impeding his attack. He spits a frustrated volley of curses in a language you can’t understand, but that you’re fairly certain is Mando’a. 

“Ah, ah, no blaster,” you tut, and he settles, going suddenly, shockingly still, watching you watch him. “You really are quite poorly mannered and surly.” There’s a part of you that is still slightly unbalanced, heart beating painfully against the cage of your ribs, but you’re trying to hide it behind a wry smile and light tone. Echoes of pain and hurt and cruel and unyielding hands molding you into a thing that was just as cruel and unyielding. You cannot tolerate being handled like that anymore, and you feel contrite that you’d provoked him into doing so. Sometimes it is still difficult for you to remember how it is you’re supposed to behave around other people. 

And then something you weren’t expecting, for he says, “You’re a Force weilder. You’re a Jedi.”

You let out a barking laugh. “What do you know of the Force?”

“Are you?” He presses.

“Yes, but no, definitely not that, no.”

“Then what?”

“Nothing. Or… whatever the opposite of a Jedi is, I suppose.”

“The opposite?” He shakes his head, “I don’t–”

“Hmm…” you cut him off, turning to make sure the two of you still haven’t been noticed. “Not anymore. I don’t use it anymore.”

“Oh, no?”

“Well… you’ve gone and ruined that now, haven’t you?”

“You started–”

“All I was trying to do,” you interrupt, “Was make nice. I’d always wanted to meet a Mandalorian,” Lie, “Haven’t you ever heard of a little flirting? And I fear, now, you’ve painted them all in a very poor light,” Lie, “Look at how rude you’ve gone and been, when all I wanted was to be friends,” Another lie, “A shame…” you heave a big sigh, “You really are very beautiful.” Truth. That fist clenches again, and you cock your head to the side, getting one last good look at him. You feel suddenly sad, you don't want to go. You’ve enjoyed this brief moment you’ve gotten to talk to him. Even if you’d gone and pissed him off and ruined it all now. 

“It was nice meeting you, shiny. Even if you were an abominable beast about it.” You give him a nod of your head, and a quick two fingered salute before you’re sliding out of the enshroudment of the booth and slipping out the back of the cantina, into the dark alleyway, leaving him behind. 

The last glimpse you catch of him out of the corner of your eye before the door shuts behind you, is the sight of him scrambling out of the booth and starting towards the door to follow after you. 

A glutton for punishment, then, so it seems. 

You flit through the dark, dirty alleys, scampering from shadow to shadow. The city streets around you, gone quiet now as the sun over Nevarro sets quickly, and you can feel him hunting after you. He’s strong, and you can almost feel the heavy weight of his life force even at a distance, almost as if the goodness and honesty of his character is a presence of its own, sentient in a way. And he’s angry, and you can feel that too, charging after you, provoked, even if he does it on entirely silent and measured feet. You can sense that ravenous curiosity and frustration at being bested and evaded pressing up against you, chasing after you. As if there were some dark red thread connecting the two of you from spine to rib bone, leading him to you, pulling him along your trail. You tiptoe the lines of the shadows silently, making your way through the winding city streets, feeling him getting closer and closer, trying to confuse him, even as he gains on you anyway. 

And then he’s there. 

You feel a massive hand, strong and sure, clamp around the back of your neck, but his touch is measured this time – he’d heeded your warning. His other hand wraps around the bend of your elbow, twisting your arm back behind you, and then he’s kicking open the nearest door, what seems to be some sort of storage alcove, the space dark and humid and mildewed, and pushing you inside. He shoves you away from him once you pass together into the darkness, and you catch yourself on the edge of what feels like some sort of table or workbench.

You laugh breathlessly. Overwhelmed by the thrill of the chase, of the feel of his hands on you, the surrounding darkness, the sound of his own panting breath through the modulator of his helmet. You hope he’s just as overwhelmed, disequilibrated, as you are now. 

“Oh, you again?” you laugh, turning to face him, bracing yourself back against the table. All you can see of him is the silver crescent of the curve of his helmet, the outline of his wide shoulders in the dim light of the moon seeping in through the cracks of space around the door. He is a steel giant.“Did you forget something? Need me to hand your ass to you again, Mandalorian?”

“You’re a fucking brat. Anyone ever tell you that before?”

You gasp mockingly, “Me? Never.”

“Why is it that everything you say sounds vaguely like a taunt? Like you’re trying to provoke me.”

And, oh, he sounds just so unbearably serious and put out by you, that you pout, forced to match his serious tone with one of your own. You force the smile to leave your voice, “Maybe because I am,” and your voice goes quieter, softer, because again, truth. There is something about him that incites provocation, you want him rattled, come undone. “Maybe I want to see what happens when a man made of metal loses control.”

“I can’t – I don’t–” His voice, even through the modulator, is its own flavor of foreplay. “I don’t know…” he says again, whispers it, his tone seeping through the helmet, entirely uncertain, or at war with himself. 

He takes one menacing step forward, made even all the more intimidating by the vast difference in your heights, the sheer breadth of him, the darkness wrapping around him so that all he’s made into are slivers of gleaming silver flame here and there. You feel the whisper of one leather covered finger skim lightly over the outside of your right forearm, another soft touch to the left side of your waist, and you shiver all over. 

“Not a virgin? Your Creed lets you fuck?”

“No.”

“No, what? Use your words.”

Silence. Stubborn, silent, tin can.

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Whores?”

A grunt. 

“Aha! Gotcha.” You start to toe your foot forward, bending your knee to make contact with him when you find his leg, tilting slightly away from the table so that you can slide your thigh between his legs. “Is that what you want me to be for you?”

“No.” Fucking monosyllabic–

“Then what do you want from me? Why did you follow me?”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t lie.”

“I want to fuck you.” Your cunt goes soaked and tight at his words, because yes, yes yes, this is what you were leading him to. Finally, he’s caught on, and then he’s planting a strong, broad hand to the center of your chest and pushing you back into the table, and pressing the hard, unyielding length of himself against you. He’s hard and swollen beneath his pants, you can feel the thick heft of him against your belly as he presses into you, and you bring your palms up to slide against the unprotected sides of his strong waist, sending him into a full body shudder as you touch him, helmet falling forward on his neck as he hunches over you, hands planted on the table behind. You can hear his labored, panting breath huffing through the modulator as you run your hands along the planes of him. He’s huge, pure muscle beneath unrelenting beskar, and if you weren’t the creature that you are, you’d feel slightly frightened at the unbelievable strength he’s made up of. He is a thrumming effigy of restrained power beneath your hands, different to that which makes you up, and you feel the strength of him once again, humming through the Force. His light burns so bright, almost blindingly. He’s strong. 

You slide one of your hands up his chest plate, tucking your fingers into the top-most edge to bring yourself up and closer to him as he curves over you, bending you back into an arch over the table’s edge. Your other hand reaches for his wrist braced against the table, wrapping around it, so thick your fingers don’t meet, to tuck your fingertips into the space where his sleeve meets his glove, and at the feel of your bare skin on his, just there, just there, he growls, deep and savage in his chest at the same time that you let out a breathy, warbled moan. His other hand shoots up to grasp at the small of your back and press you into him, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. He’s burning hot, sweltering, and he slides his palm lower, tilting your pelvis into his as you hitch one of your knees up the outside of his thigh to his hip, and then your cunt is rocking against the thick length of his cock, and another breathless, pained groan from the both of you as you make contact there, pushing and pulling against each other. You want to taste his skin, his tongue, you want to kiss him, to feel him licking into your mouth. You pull yourself in closer by the hand tucked into his chestplate to press your face into the warm space between his helmet’s edge and the folds of his cowl. He smells so good, like leather and sweat and metal. Something earthy and musky, something that proves to you that despite the beskar, there is only a man of flesh and blood and want beneath. 

His palm slides to grip the lush of your ass, rolling you onto his length harder, pressing deeper as if he could fuck you through your clothes. 

“Are you going to let me fuck you, little brat?” he pants, ending on a stuttered groan as you hook your calf around his waist and press your foot into the small of his back to grind particularly sharply onto him, pressing your clit into the edge of his utility belt, “Please, just– just–” you gasp, head falling back on your neck. And then he’s spinning you abruptly and pressing between your shoulder blades so that you're bent entirely over the table, cheek smushed against the hard surface. That wide palm slides down the slope of your spine, squeezes your asscheek harshly so that you’re moaning out in lust or pain, you can’t tell.

“Was that a yes? Who can’t use their words now?”

“I liked it better when you weren’t talking,” you grouch, but then his fingers have somehow snuck their way up beneath your tunic and under the edge of your trousers, and he’s ripping everything down to leave you bare and unprotected from the sudden onslaught of that huge expanse of leather clad palm cracking down painfully on the soft skin of your ass so that you’re scrambling to find the opposite end of the table to pull yourself away from him. A pathetic little screech claws its way out of you, and he wraps the length of your hair around his fist to pull your head back and up, turning you into his own little bow string, head resting back on the hard pauldron over his shoulder. 

“Where do you think you’re going? I caught you, you’re mine now.”

“Fuck off–” You try, but he clamps his fingers around your jaw, squeezing the fine bones of your face to cut you off, his other hand in your hair gives a sharp tug that makes the tips of your breasts go hot and tight and your cunt clench around nothing. You can feel yourself dripping down the insides of your naked thighs. 

“Open your mouth,” he orders, shoving the thick of his fingers inside to press down on your tongue. You try and moan around him, protest or something, but you can’t help but run your tongue around the digits, tasting the smokiness of blaster residue, the tang of whatever he must use to oil his gloves. “Finally, some silence. I like you better like this,” he taunts you with an imitation of your previous words. He bends his head forward, “Get them wet,” he murmurs, voice soft and sultry through the modulator, and the moan you give him now is all desperation as you let saliva pool heavy on your tongue to coat the leather. 

When he pulls them from your mouth, tugging your head back further so that you can look up into the dark tee of his visor as he slides his spit slick gloves between your thighs to press against your throbbing clit, your whimpered little mewl has a chastising tut filtering through the helmet, “Slippery, little thing.” He starts to press slow circles to the aching bundle of nerves, sliding down on every other swirl to press gentle, teasing pressure to your clenching opening. “Did my chasing do all this? Do you like being hunted, brat?”

“Not–” you moan as he presses down hard on your clit, then back to the mouth of your cunt, giving you just the tip of his finger, “Not a brat,” you struggle to get out.

“No?” He starts to press two fingers inside at once, both of you groaning in tandem. “Maker – fucking tight–” He scissors his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist to fuck you open, making room for himself inside of you. “Don’t know if I’ll even fit in here.”

“No,” you groan, low and drawn out, and then, yes, whispered breathlessly, one of your arms reaching back to hold onto the wrist of his hand still twisted in your hair, trying to find purchase on anything to anchor yourself with. Because the stretch of just his two fingers inside of you – you can hear the slick squelch of your wetness as he starts to fuck them in and out of you slowly – is so unexpectedly obscene. You had not expected to find yourself in this position with any man, especially not one like this – had not thought you were yet ready to be touched by another person. Not so soon after– “Please – m– more. I want–”

“You think you’re ready for my cock, little one? Have I stretched this tiny cunt out enough?”

“Yes– yes. Just do it.”

“Fuck–” You listen to the wet little pop as he pulls his fingers from you, and the clink and shuffle of his belt and armor as he pulls himself out of his clothes, and then he’s shifting behind you as you brace against the edge of the table. The burning hot blunt tip of his cock skimming against the round of your ass, and you feel him spread his feet wide, bend his knees, and then his cock is there at the slick mouth of your cunt, and he’s thrusting up and into you on the downward roll of your hips, and Maker, he’s deep like this. Suddenly, twin strangled groans of pain or relief ripping from your throats in tandem as he grinds deep, deeper, for a moment. You feel the heavy kick and throb of his cock inside of you, and he is too big, too thick – he forces you to take it anyway. Stretching you in a way you’ve never been before, your eyes smart, forcing your body to make room for his inside of you, it leaves your breath to stutter out in a weak little puff of shock. 

And you moan, using the palms of your hands against the edge of the table to grind yourself back onto him while his hands clamp tightly around your hips, his fingers so long they almost meet at the center of your belly beneath your navel. 

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. That’s so good.

You can’t tell which one of you is speaking. You can't even tell if you’re still breathing. And then he starts to move. 

You knew he’d fuck hard, from the first moment you’d seen him, you knew.

He pulls his hips back, the slick wet, the grasping walls of your cunt trying to suck him back in, and then the scorching slide of him pressing back in, in, in, grinding again, those long fingers pressing down on your belly so that you feel him from the outside too. 

“Harder,” you beg, because of course you want more. You are a creature made of greed and hunger. You always have been. 

“Quit. You’ll take whatever the fuck you’re given,” but his hips slam back in, a savage growl punctuating the movement. 

He gives it to you almost brutally, without pause or thought, fucking punched out breaths and whines from you. 

“Shut up,” he spits on the end of one particularly deep, harsh thrust that’s followed by a high pitched mewl from you. “You want every piece of shit on Nevarro to find you split open on my cock like this?” Your head lolls back limply on his shoulder, the wet slap of his heavy balls against your clit overwhelming the sound of your thoughts. You can’t speak, your brain is currently being jostled within the confines of your skull by the force of his cock splitting you open. “No? Then be a good girl, and be quiet,” his voice, rough, even through the modulator is almost drowned out by the wet, obscene sound of him pounding into you. 

He brings one of his hands back up to your jaw, turning your head slightly so that your nose is almost smushed up against the chrome of his visor. He wants to look at you. The hard beskar of his chest plate rubs harshly against your back on every push upwards of his hips, and you’re sure that’ll hurt later, but right now you just can’t seem to care. You can feel the humid, warm air of your panting breath, foggy against the gleam of his helmet, and you bring one of your hands up to the wrist holding your face, holding on for dear life, sanity, you’re not sure what. Your other hand twists back into the hanging fabric of his cloak so that you can pull yourself more tightly back into him as he slows his thrusts, making them longer and more drawn out. “Yeah– like that. Settle… good girl.” Your eyes flutter shut. Too much, too much. It should hurt. You wanted it to hurt. Not gentle, you don’t want it gentle.

“Harder,” you whine, plead.

“No. How I say.” He rolls his cock into you over and over, your slick sliding down your thighs, the backs abraded by the plates of beskar over his own legs. He’s so deep, so big it hurts so good. Even if you want it harder, it still hurts so good. The hand at your face slides down to rip open the fastening of your high necked tunic, reaching inside and under your breast band to pull out the heavy aching weight of your tit and pinch your nipple, rolling it between his strong leather clad fingers – more high, desperate mewls that have him groaning deep in his chest. You’re sure if your face wasn't so close to his you’d never be able to hear them through the helmet, low and rumbly and so delicious. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs low, cupping your breast to plump it up, massaging it in his palm.

“What? You can see?” 

“Yeah– fuck yes, I can see.”

“Not fair,” you whine. It’s so dark in the little room he’d pushed you into, you’re not even going to get to take a good look at his cock before this is all over. 

“You don’t need to see. You just need to be good and take it.”

“Do you ever kiss?” you ask him suddenly. Irritated by the fact that you’ve not gotten to ogle him – or kiss him. If he even does that.

Another deep roll of his hips, a tight squeeze to the swinging globe of your breast, “No.”

“That’s a shame.”

And he responds immediately, voice subdued and even, underneath the helmet, despite the fact that you feel like he’s cleaving you in two. “Maybe next time,” he says. His palm slides down to your belly then, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades to fold you over the table, hands moving to wrap around your hips and lift you up and back onto his impaling cock so that the tips of your toes are left skimming the ground beneath, your fingers scramble and claw for purchase against the wood of the table. You can feel the wide tip of his cock punching against your womb on every thrust in and stars flash behind your eyes, mouth hanging open pathetically. 

There is nothing gentle about the way he fucks you. Like he wants to split you in two, like he wants to make sure the shape of him is branded into the center of your body so that you’d never forget this. The sticky sweet coil of your orgasm starts up low in your belly, and you feel molded in his image for one second, pushed out of yourself to stand on the sidelines and look upon the sight of your much smaller form draped over the table and being fucked into so savagely by this silver blade of a man.

And then: they’re fucking bare, they’re fucking raw, and it has been so, so long since he has felt the touch of another person, someone else’s skin on his that was not bestowed upon him in violence or with the barrier of a sheath between. It is an almost overwhelming feeling, that of your hot, soaking wet cunt pulsing around him, you’re about to come for him, he can feel it. The fluttering of your inner muscles, delicate thing that you are, your thighs shaking as you struggle to push yourself back on to him to get it harder, deeper. He is, almost, made faint with the feeling. And those eyes… you’ve got the strangest multicolored eyes. One enshrouded entirely in darkness compared to its bright counterpart – as if one had forgotten to take that last step into the light. You’re fucking beautiful and–

You snap back into yourself. No, no, no, stay out of his head. Stay out of his head. Focus. You push yourself up again so that your back is against his chest, and he bands one tremendously strong arm around you, gripping your breast tightly. You feel him bend his knees framing your thighs to change and deepen the angle, and then he’s pounding right into that tender, devastating place inside of you, and your cunt twists and floods with your orgasm, electric shocks of pleasure numbing your fingers and toes. You can do nothing more than let him do with you what he will. Your toes aren’t even touching the floor. 

He presses as deep as he can, grinds for a moment, and then he folds you over the table once again and presses down harshly on the small of your back with one heavy palm as he pulls his cock from you and finishes himself off. You listen to the wet thwack, thwack, thwack of him pulling on his cock, and then the searing hot spurt of his come is hitting your ass and the exposed seam of your fluttering cunt, a savage growl ripping through the modulator as he squeezes all of the air out of you with that unyielding hand. You’re like a pressed flower between the pages of a book – wilted and frayed, but still held in the image of that which you once were. At the last spurt from his cock he brings his hand to your ass, spreads you apart to rub his spend into the tight furl of your ass, and then further down into your throbbing, overly sensitive clit. All you can do is cry and whimper weakly, still trembling from your own orgasm. “T– too much, nooo,” you whine pathetically.

“Easy – easy, settle.”

You feel him fall to a crouch behind you, pulling you apart with both hands by the meat of your ass to look upon the sight of your blushed, fluttering hole. Messy, little cunt, you hear him whisper. He rubs his come into your trembling thighs, over your swollen clit again, inspecting every vulnerable inch and crevice of your sex, and then he’s pushing two of those thick fingers back inside of you, the passage made slick and fucked open by your mingled come. “Just one more, little one. Want to see it up close,” he murmurs. You try and wiggle away, tears of oversensitivity brimming beneath your lashes, I can’t, I can’t, you think you whisper, but he’s inescapable. He clamps one hand painfully over your asscheek, keeping you spread apart for his inspection, the other one buried deep inside of you so that his fingers are hooked against your g-spot where he presses over and over, quick and relentless, his fingers almost vibrating inside of you until your vision is going white hot and a buzzing sound rings in your ears, and you’re crying for what you think might sound like mercy or something equally despeerate. “Yes, fuck, yes. Just like that.” Your answering sob does not prompt him to abate, for he keeps his fingers pressed against that spot inside of you until you’re leaking an embarrassing amount of wetness down your thighs, until the rippling throbs of your orgasm have finally settled. You feel his head fall forward, the beskar of his helmet pressing against the space where your asscheek meets your thigh, and he holds there for a second against your burning hot skin, the scorching soothed by the cool metal.

You can’t stop shaking, you feel, suddenly, like you might cry. You were not prepared for something of this intensity, to be touched like this, and now that it’s happened you’re left reeling. You don’t even know his name. And now you’re sure he’ll go away to wherever it is that Mandalorian bounty hunters run off to, and you’ll never see him again, and you’ll have to live with the memory of this forever. And something like this… amidst all the other horror that lives within you, you’re sure that the intimacy, the fervor of this, will make it hurt all the more, even compared to all the rest. 

He uncoils behind you, rising up to his towering height. You listen to the rustling of his clothes, and then he’s smoothing a large palm over the slope of your trembling back and reaching down to pull up your trousers, tucking your breast back beneath your tunic, righting your clothes for you without commentary. When you think you’ve finally caught your breath, or can at least pretend you’ve done so, enough to push yourself up from your position over the table. Your eyes feel pinched and hot, your heart beating so hard, almost painfully, within the confines of your ribcage that it feels as though your bones are rattling beneath your skin, knocking together in the imitation of a death rattle so that he’ll surely know that you feel two paces away from falling apart entirely. 

“You’re… Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?” Voice stilted.

“No more than I wanted you to.”

He’s silent for a moment, uncomfortable. You can feel the sensation of him pulling away, getting ready to make a run for it. “That’s not–” he cuts himself off. “Do you– do you spend much time on planet?” He’s awkward, uncomfortable now with this unnecessary notion of seemingly required small talk.

“No.” Lie. You like Nevarro, you spend more time here than anywhere else. 

“What’s your name?” It shocks you that he asks, for you know he’d not give you his if you asked it of him in return, but for one infinitely painful, insanely uncharacteristic moment, you want to tell him. You want to give him your real name desperately, tell him who you are. But if you were to do that, then you might tell him what you are. And then he’d hate you, and the memory would be ruined, and you have so few good ones, that this one must be protected at all costs. 

So instead you say that which you have no real desire to say, do what you have no real desire to do, and make sure that he thinks you’re not interested, that you have no desire to ever see him again. Maybe next time. Your heart gives a surprisingly painful pinch, your eyes growing hotter by the second. “This was just a fuck, don’t get all sentimental on me now.” Your voice is so cold, so uncaring. You hate the way you can make yourself sound sometimes. You sense him snap with tense shock, and he nods once, succinctly. “Very well. Thank you… for this. I suppose.”

You lean back against the table, trying your hardest to appear as unaffected as you can. You turn your face to the side, roll your cheek over the hill of your shoulder. “It was my pleasure.”

He turns to go, his cape snapping with the sharp abruptness of his movements, and he pulls open the door of the little storage room letting a flood of moonlight sweep in to shed light on the construction of this memory you’re assembling brick by brick to preserve in your mind for as long as you possibly can. Your eyes sweep over the length of him ravenously, trying to catalog every single detail of him, the incredible breadth of his shoulders, the silver gleam of his beskar helmet, the sweep of his cape, the arsenal of weapons strapped to his body, lethal. He turns back to look at you for one moment, the yawning darkness of his chrome visor, “Don’t get killed, Mandalorian. There are so few of you left now.” And truth, truth, truth, for it would be a shame beyond imagining for a creature such as this, something so strong and beautiful and other, to perish when so few like him remain. He pauses to take you in, as well. You wish you had the courage to ask him what he sees when he looks at a thing like you. The tears are right there, and you hate them and feel weak and disgusted, but also relieved, and you could fall to your knees, in this moment, to thank the Maker that you still possess the ability, the heart, to cry, to succumb to something as trife as tears. You hope he cannot see them. The helmet cocks to the side for one second, perhaps he too is cataloging you to his memory. He nods once, and then he’s turning and gone away into the night. The door snicks shut behind him, and you’re alone once again. 

You pause for a moment, hoping that relief will come. He’s gone, you got what you wanted from him. You should be glad. But there is only the screaming thought of wait, there was still more, there was still more that I wanted from you. 

You let yourself sink slowly to the ground, hand braced against the edge of the table he just fucked you over, lest your shaking legs give out and have you planting face first into the dirt. You fold your legs beneath you, tuck your wild hair gently behind your ears, your movements measured, trying to breathe deep and slow, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Don’t cry, there’s no reason to cry. But shouldn’t we be glad we can still cry? Isn’t it a sign that not all is lost? That there is still a part of us that feels enough to shed tears? This should be a good thing. And so you let the tears fall. You fold yourself over as small as you can, one hand pressed over your hot, leaking eyes, another over your mouth to keep your sounds contained, and you sob as quietly as you possibly can. It was so good and you’re crying and you’re alive and you’re free. You are free, and you should be glad of this. Cry, cry, but cry for your own victory, for your own freedom, for the chance to cry. This is what victory feels like. This is what it is to be alive. 

And so, here is your truth: It is a difficult thing, to shed the facets of the dark side after you’ve lived with it for so long. To be a Sith is to forsake all connection, all peace. There is only passion to strength to power to victory to the Force, but it is always alone. Always against someone or something else. So, yes, it is difficult to shed the facets of the dark side that have made you the thing you’ve been for more than half your life, since the time you were stolen from your cradle, your parents slaughtered, and spirited away into the shadow of a cruel and unforgiving master. What is it to know exactly how your life will play out, to see everything, to be so aware of what you will be – and to still be lost? Part agony, part madness. The pieces of you that are secretive, that like to hide, to run, these are especially difficult to let go of, and you are so, so interminably sad, you live in it. It’s all you feel you are now, after the dark, after the fall of the Empire and the Sith, after escape, after freedom, after you’d so forcibly ripped its claws, that were so deeply sunk within you, out by sheer force of will, by sheer force of desperation, you worry that it’s taken a piece of you with it, your soul. That it had eaten a piece of you. That you don’t have one anymore. 

You don’t even know his name. And even if you’re certain he would not have given it to you, for one moment, you feel an incredible lance of regret that you did not give him yours. 

But then: a person without a soul could not cry. 

And so this must only be proof of the fact that you must still possess yours, as shriveled or weak as it’s been made, you must still have one. You must. You must. 

And you think: I am not unfamiliar with this half life – there is a wound inside of me – dark and putrid and festering. But perhaps my tears will heal me. Seal the wound closed. 

You feel lonely – worse, you feel strange. Once, you were terrible – now you are only yourself. So you cry for the passion of the moment, for the way he made you feel, for the loss of a name, for the truth of freedom.

Chapter II

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#TCC fic #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #the Mandalorian

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Eden" - A Loki/Reader Drabble

You get lost in the woods and stumble upon a stranger in a secluded grove.

Pairing: Loki x Reader Genre: Sexy, Flirty Fluff (lusty descriptors but no sex) Word Count: 800 (quick read!)

MY MASTERLIST

“Are you lost?” 

Absolutely, but you didn’t say a word. Your senses were too busy taking in the idyllic tableau you’d found by chance. 

After wandering for hours, being mistakenly left behind by your small hiking party, you parted two large bushes to find an opening in the trees. Behind them, a small tributary wound a pathway up to a two-story waterfall, which was busy churning and rushing with the spring runoff. All around, the evidence of spring blossomed: trees birthed bright pink buds underneath their newborn leaves. Small birds chimed in chorus from the lush canopy above, and only together could they reach a noise capable of being heard past the roaring falls. Secluded, it had to easily be five to six miles from the closest point of civilization.

The source of the query that greeted you was standing at the top of the small cliffside that hosted the waterfall. Naked as the day he was born, he was unashamed of himself, letting everything shine in the sunlight. In fact, he seemed boastful, and he had every right to be from what you could see. Raven black hair blew back across his face until he took a moment to tie it back. Every pectoral, deltoid, and leg muscle was defined, given its own territory across his pristine surface to show off. Alas, that was all you could make out from your distance. 

“Are you lost?” he repeated, his voice somehow able to carry clearly across the falls to you, on the far side of the glen. 

You nodded, too enchanted to understand that such a subtle response would go undetected. 

The figure smiled and placed his hands proudly on his hips, even thrusting his pelvis forward. Of course, this showed off more than just the sharp ‘V’ his abs formed.  You only wanted a closer look for yourself. 

“Stay put,” he said. “I’m coming down.” 

He took a few steps back, until you could barely see his head. Then, at a moderate run, he leapt off the cliffside, performing a rigid, graceful swan dive below, making surprisingly little splash upon entry. He surfaced, whipping his soaked hair back over his head and gasping for air. His chest dripped, his breaths were deep and heaving. 

As he casually swam down the creek, you shyly  sat down by the bank, slipping your hiking boots off. The water did look nice, and indeed, your feet hurt from the past hour you’d spent searching for your friends. Upon dipping them into the river, you felt instant, cool relief bubble up from your toes as you stretched, enjoying the sensation. 

He was athletic, more so than any human you’d ever seen. It only took him a moment to swim the distance to your place on the grass beside the water. He surfaced again, much closer to you, so you could witness him in all of his perfection. 

Was he a mermaid? No, he’d clearly had legs when he jumped off the falls, and you’d plainly seen them (and what lay between them). Who, then, was this woodland god who seemed so eager to meet you? 

You were met with two piercing blue eyes, fresher than the river water and just as sparkling in the sun peeking through the canopy. The ebony hair he’d shown off dripped in streams down his chest, forming small branches that circles around his nipples before rolling down his stomach. 

“I…don’t mean to stare,” you whispered, embarrassed and suddenly self-conscious. 

“It must be intimidating to find yourself suddenly in the presence of Prince Loki, but please continue to admire me,” he insisted smoothly, smiling with a tempting twinkle in his eye. “Then I will have an excuse to do the same with you.” 

A Prince? In the woods?

His gaze moved away from you long enough to spot a small cluster of buttercups in bloom along the blank, about ten feet from your spot on the shore. Giving himself a moment, he waded downstream and plucked three from their tethers and brought them back. He didn’t ask your permission to tuck them behind your ear, but perhaps your own body language was already obvious: you wanted him to move in closer. 

“Lovely, you shall be my new little companion,” he said softly, tracing your jaw with his finger briefly after placing the tiny flowers in your hair. “But I feel I should ask you one more time, sweet wood nymph, are you lost?” 

You held out your hand to Prince Loki, asking him gently to come in just a little closer. He took your hand, bringing it swiftly to his lips and let his mouth linger for a deliciously long moment on your fingers.

“No, Prince Loki, I’m right where I want to be.”

Sorry this was just a drabble. I haven’t posted one-shots in a while and wanted to do one, but my muse is on staycation and it took a lot for her to get off the couch this morning. I kind of wanted to practice my descriptors a bit. Hope it's ok!

@acidcasualties @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @loopsisloops @fictive-sl0th @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @holdmytesseract @mochie85 @lcolumbia1988 @glitchquake @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #lost in the woods trope #waterfalls #naked loki #loki fluff #drabble #fluff #one shot #masterlist

[imaginecentralworld]

💎A Diamond's Destiny💎

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

𐙚 Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

𐙚 Here's PART 1 - make sure to read it before continuing!

𐙚 Summary: In this captivating story, Lady Bridgerton's plan to win the Queen's favor involves you in unexpected intrigue. Your lessons with the charming Lord Julian Ashford take a complicated turn when Anthony Bridgerton shows subtle jealousy. Anthony's request to escort you to the ball hints at deeper feelings, but the plot thickens when you receive a surprise invitation for a private audience with the Queen. This development promises a night full of potential changes and revelations.

𐙚 Word Count: 394 (words), 2,380 (characters)

𐙚 Warning: Like the last chapter, this one ends with a cliffhanger. Stay tuned for more hehehe.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The following day brought a promise of intrigue and revelation. After a morning filled with the chatter and clatter of the Bridgerton household, Lady Bridgerton summoned you to the drawing room where a surprise awaited—an elegant harp veiled under a cloth. She revealed it with a flourish, announcing that it was the key to capturing the Queen’s favor at the upcoming ball.

"Your surprise, my dear. Nothing charms quite like music," she declared, winking.

"I suppose it’s time I learn then," you responded with a skeptical lift of your eyebrow, secretly hoping your musical talents were less dreadful than you remembered.

As it turned out, your music tutor was not the stern, old master you had envisioned, but a young and rather attractive Lord Julian Ashford, known for his musical prowess and charming demeanor. The lesson was filled with laughter and playful banter, although your ability to coax melody from the harp remained questionable.

During a particularly humorous moment, Anthony Bridgerton walked in, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing Lord Ashford's guiding hand close to yours. His arrival brought a subtle chill to the warm room.

"Am I interrupting?" Anthony asked, a hint of steel in his tone.

"Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. Lady Y/N was just mastering the crescendo," Lord Ashford replied smoothly, stepping away with a knowing smile.

Anthony offered his arm, which you accepted, feeling the firm warmth of his grip. "You play beautifully," he said, though you sensed a measure of restraint.

"I only hope to avoid complete disgrace," you quipped, earning a reluctant smile from him.

Before lunch, Anthony formally asked to escort you to the ball, to which you playfully agreed, provided he spared your toes during the dance. His laughter in response lightened the air between you.

However, as you were about to discuss further, a footman delivered a letter from the Queen, requesting a private audience with you that very afternoon. The surprise caught everyone off guard, including yourself.

"The Queen wishes to see me alone?" you murmured, sharing a puzzled look with Anthony.

What could the Queen want with you? And how would this change the events of the coming ball? As you headed to the royal palace, your heart raced with anticipation, leaving Anthony watching, his expression a mix of concern and hope. The stage was set for a night that could change everything.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction

[redrose10]

Chapter 14! Honestly I didn’t expect this go past 4 or 5 chapters in total so this is crazy, but I really appreciate all the feedback and love that I’ve received. I think this chapter and the next one are going to be quite the roller coaster ride.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,018

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

“Alright, I just texted Suri to let her know that I told you about the baby and that you’re really upset and trying to leave. I asked if she wanted to come over and talk this through. She said she’s on her way.”, Yoongi said taking a seat next to you. You were still nervous about this whole thing. Even though the previous week had been spent doing everything to prepare. Making sure everyone’s stories matched up. Woo-Sung came over for dinner and he was even more handsome and charming in person which made Yoongi turn into a jealous rude jerk causing a small argument, but the two of you recovered quickly. Your bags were already packed and hiding out in your room. All you had to do was put your acting skills to the test when Suri got there and make it believable.

Yoongi noticed that you were still uncertain about the whole situation by the way you kept twisting your wedding ring around your finger. A nervous habit of yours that he had picked up. Gently he placed a hand on your thigh giving it a light squeeze.

“Text me when you get to Jimins and call me if you need anything at any point. I’ll keep you updated too.”

You nodded in acceptance, “I will Yoongi. I just hope everything goes smoothly.”

“We’ll make it wor-“

There was a knock at the door that interrupted you both.

He looked over at you with a sly smile, “Show time.”

He gave you a quick kiss before jogging over to the door. You ran off to your room to wait for Yoongi to join you. It had only been seconds, but already felt like hours.

Yoongi swung open the front door greeted by a smug Suri sipping on an Iced Americano.

“Glad to see you finally came to your senses.”, she said letting herself in.

Yoongi rolled his eyes closing the door behind her.

“Should you really be drinking coffee like that right now?”

“The doctor said a cup a day is fine. You’d know that if you bothered to show up at all for our baby.”

He had to take a deep breath and remind himself to stay calm before he snapped and ruined everything.

“So where is the little boyfriend stealer? Did she leave already? I definitely want to turn her room into the nursery.”

Yoongi couldn’t believe just how delusional Suri had become. He almost felt bad for her.

“She’s still packing some of her stuff.”, he responded.

“Good. I want her out of my house.”

“Alright Suri. That’s enough now. Let’s just relax.”

While she made herself something to eat Yoongi paced back and forth a little trying to calm his own nerves. He had been trying to put on an act for you, but deep down he was nervous himself. There was a lot riding on this and he knew how dangerous Suri could be.

“I’m gonna go check on Y/N.”, he said watching as Suri already made herself comfortable. Once he entered your room he felt a sense of relief when he saw you sitting on the bed.

“Ready?”, he whispered. You nodded.

He chuckled before taking a big breath and shouting, “Y/N, can we just stop and talk about this?”

“No Yoongi we can’t. You got another woman pregnant. Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?”

“I do know Y/N. I am so sorry. Just please let me try and fix this.”

“There’s no way to fix this. You have done nothing but hurt me since the day we met when all I wanted to do was to try and love you and make this work between us. Do you know how that has affected me? What that’s done to me? How many nights I was alone and I cried myself to sleep listening to you fuck other women? And now one of them is pregnant on top of it. From now on I am merely your date for the evening when it’s required of me. That’s all. I hate you Min Yoongi.”

When you were finished you were slightly out of breath and felt a burning sensation in your eyes as your vision blurred from the tears that were forming. At that moment you realized that maybe you weren’t acting so much after all. Yoongi seemed to realize too as he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He squeezed you so tight you had a hard time catching your breath. “I’m so sorry Y/N. It will never happen again. I swear on everything that I will never intentionally hurt you again.”, he whispered in your ear.

When you pulled away he wiped away your tears before handing you the small bags you had already packed and opened the bedroom door for you giving you a kiss.

“Call me later.”, he mouthed.

“Go fuck yourself Yoongi.”, you yelled followed by a smirk that turned to a silent giggle watching him act dramatically hurt by your words.

Slamming the door you stormed off towards the entrance way not even paying Suri any attention, afraid that you might blow it all and laugh if you looked at her.

Once in the hallway you took a moment to catch your breath and compose yourself. You were quite proud of your little performance and it felt great to finally get some of that aggression out.

You texted Yoongi once you got to Jimins to let him know you were safe and to ask how everything went once you left. According to him Suri believed everything and was beyond happy you were out of the picture.

The following week should’ve been relaxing in theory, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Yoongi called you every day and even snuck over to see you after work a couple times. He reassured you nothing had happened with Suri and he had managed to convince her to sleep in the other room without much of a fight. She seemed to just be basking in the glory of thinking she finally won. You also had the bonus of spending a lot of extra time with Jimin, the two of you spent most nights up late watching tv and snacking on various goodies while partaking in the occasional gossip.

Your worries came to the forefront of your mind on Friday and everything quickly came crashing down around you. It was the day before you and Woo-Sung were supposed to head over to Yoongi’s to get some more of your things. Jimin had headed to the office pretty early that day and you hadn’t heard from Yoongi yet so you spent the day alone.

While laying in bed you could hear your phone ringing from its spot on the table where it was charging. Really you wanted to just ignore it and let it go to voicemail, but then you got worried something could be wrong. Walking over you saw a familiar name flashing on the screen.

Mrs. Chan lived next door to you and Yoongi. She was a tiresome older woman who had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with which led to constant complaints on her part. Always little things that most people wouldn’t even notice. You once heard from the security guard that she complained to the manager of the apartment complex where you all lived that she didn’t like the color of the red lettering on the exit signs around the building. They were too bright and she demanded a more muted red be installed. It still makes you laugh thinking about it. The only reason she even had your number was because you watched her dog one time while she went on vacation a few months ago. Something you’ve regretted ever since. You weren’t really in the mood for her, but once again your anxiety got the best of you and you answered the call to make sure nothing bad happened back home.

“Hello Mrs. Chan. How are you doing?”

“Oh well I’d be a lot better if I didn’t have to walk past your husband and his mistress all over each other like a couple of horny teenagers out in the hallway of our apartment building.”

Your mouth went so dry you didn’t think you’d be able to breathe.

“Honestly dear, I don’t know why you let him act like that. You know if that was my husband, I’d put itching powder in every single pair of underwear he owned.”

Your brain was still having a hard time even forming words.

“Y/N, are you there?”

“Y- Yes Mrs.Chan. I’m sorry about that. Are you sure it was Yoongi.”

“Certain of it. I just saw him about ten minutes ago when I was coming back from visiting my daughter. He had his lips all over her, but I could recognize him. I could smell that cologne he always wears. You know, that cinnamon and vanilla smell. He was with that woman. You know long brown hair. Pale skin. I’ve seen her around many times. Looks like she’s starting to get a little bit of baby bump too. That’s definitely not a good look Y/N.”

The walls felt like they were closing in around you. It certainly sounded like she was describing Suri and who else would she be with other than Yoongi. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You thought you were going to be sick. After all the begging and pleading and promising he did, he still went ahead and broke your trust and it didn’t even take a full week. For all you knew he probably slept with her the night you left for Jimins.

“Alright dear, well I have to get going. Just make sure you say something to your husband or next time I’m gonna get out the spray bottle.”

“Yes Mrs. Chan. Thank you for calling me.”

With shaking fingers you placed your phone back down in its place.

Biting your lip you chuckled to yourself while you replayed in your head what you just heard.

That was the very last straw. You no longer felt like just relaxing in bed. You don’t want to just sit here and cry and feel sorry for yourself. Jumping in the shower you scrubbed at your skin, shaved, and lotioned up. You put on some make up and added a few light curls to your hair. Then you started digging around through the hall closet where you knew Jimin stored various articles of clothing left behind by old girlfriends and one night stands. You hoped you could find something decent in your size since you only packed your comfy clothes and needed an outfit that was more risqué to go along with what you had planned. Thankfully you found a skin tight black silk dress and a pair of strappy heels. They were a size too big, but you’d have to make it work. Taking a final glance in the mirror you were happy with your work. You took off the large diamond ring that you’d been wearing since Yoongi gave it to you at the start of your marriage and placed it down on the dresser not wanting that reminder to follow you right now. You started walking towards the door and while you took the steps you pulled up your contact list on your phone scrolling for the name you were looking for, the one person who had really been getting under Yoongi’s skin recently.

Once you found it and clicked dial it only took a few rings for a familiar voice to answer.

Putting on your best fake smile you reached for the door handle while putting your plan in motion.

“Hey Woo-Sung, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if you were free tonight. Maybe we could hang out and get to know each other a little better. I could come over to your place if you’d like. Yoongi doesn’t have to know.”

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #cinnamon&vanilla #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #bts fic #bts yoongi #yoongi

[zepskies]

Good Morning

Pairing: C.J. Braxton x F. Reader

Summary: Your attempts to get your boyfriend out of bed don’t go as planned.

AN: Here's my first ever story for CJ! Hope you enjoy. 💜

Word Count: 1,400

Tags/Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, tinge of angst.

You managed to close the door very carefully behind you while making sure the mugs of coffee you carried didn’t spill. Once one of these old dorm room carpets stained, there was no getting it out. 

You turned to find your boyfriend rolled over in his sleep, onto his stomach. The sheets had pulled down to his waist, but a few of his toes were peeking out as his foot hung out from his side of the bed.

Smiling, you went back over to your side. You set down the mugs on the nightstand and, slow and smoothly as you could, you slid in behind him. You laid a hand between his shoulders.

A sleepy, muffled sound reached your ears. You bit your lip in amusement. You sidled in closer, until your head was resting on his bare shoulder.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said quietly.

CJ’s face peeked out from under the messy flop of his brown hair, but his eyes were still stubbornly closed. His groan was more petulant this time.

“It’s not daytime yet, is it?” he muttered.

“Unfortunately, yes,” you replied, though you encouraged his waking with a soft hand drawing up and down his back. “But I’ve got coffee and a kiss waiting for you…after you brush your teeth.”

With a tilt of his head, CJ finally cracked his eyes open.

You laughed a little. “That’s what I thought.”   

You sat up and brushed strands of his wild hair away from his forehead. It allowed CJ to get a better look at you in your chosen PJs. AKA: His dark blue sweater from yesterday, and possibly little else underneath. It was a better reason than most to get up.

He let out a sigh and turned over onto his back. He stretched out next to you in bed with another groan as he rolled the kinks out of his neck. But without warning, he hooked a hand into the front of your borrowed sweater and yanked you into his arms.

You yelped in surprise and landed on his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you in close, until you were once again staring down at his amused face.

“This isn’t exactly getting up,” you said, playfully chiding. “You’ve got class in an hour.”

CJ gave you a lazy smile that had a note of cheekiness.

“Plenty of time,” he said.

You quirked a brow as you felt his hands wander, down your sides and hips, and under the sweater. He found the lacy hem of your underwear.

“Time for what?” you asked, despite knowing the answer all too well.

“To have a really good morning,” he replied, squeezing your hips, but your fingers stopped his lips from approaching yours. You smirked.

“I was serious about that toothpaste,” you said. CJ pouted, leaning back against the pillow.

“Fine. Don’t kiss me, see if I care.”

You laughed at his bout of childishness.

“Come on, don’t be lazy.” You pushed off his chest, but before you left him completely, you looked down at him with a smile. “If you stop wasting time, I promise, we’ll have a very good morning.”

Raising his brows, CJ finally rolled out of bed after you sat back and got off of him. He stumbled a bit on his way to the bathroom.

You shook your head, huffing in amusement. It seemed that after a couple years of celibacy, the promise of any kind of activities was too good a motivator.

“We've gotta respect the sun,” CJ jokingly told you one morning, right before he turned you onto your back and slid down the length of your body and…

You’d barely taken a few sips of your coffee when you felt the bed dip behind you. A familiar pair of plush lips brushed along your neck, after a hand swept your hair aside.

“Why’re you staring into your coffee so intently?” CJ asked near your ear. It almost had a shiver running down your spine. You smiled.

“Nothing,” you lied. He hummed in response. His warm hands swept up and down your arms and massaged between your shoulders. You let out a pleased sigh.

“Hmm, you’re a little tense. Knots all up in here,” he remarked, though you heard the smile in his voice. “I think we need to work these out.”

You giggled. And you set down your coffee mug, because you knew what was coming. CJ pulled you back into his arms, where you leaned back and met him with a kiss. He tasted minty fresh.

You soon stopped him with a hand on his cheek. “Hey, before I forget. Would you want to go to a party this Friday? Joey invited me.”

CJ’s expression fell, just a little. You paused, biting your lip.

“But I’d get it if you don’t want to go,” you said. “It’s this thing at Jack and Pacey’s apartment. I know he’s the guy who kind of…introduced your face to a brick wall and all.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t fun,” CJ replied. He was already frowning at the memory, of not only Pacey, but of Audrey, and Jen, and how messy that had been. That whole episode had happened before he started falling for you…but it didn’t mean he wanted to dive back into all that “fun-filled” drama.

“Audrey won’t be there, obviously,” you said. Audrey was back in California, in rehab.

“Yeah, but Pacey sure will,” CJ dryly pointed out.

And Jen, he thought. He knew she still had something of a crush on him, but he’d been able to maintain his distance, especially since things started to get serious with you.

You stroked his cheek, breaking him out of his thoughts and earning his gaze.

“Joey already talked to him. I’m sure Pacey’s chilled out by now,” you reasoned. CJ was still frowning though.

After a beat of hesitation, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said at last.

And yet, CJ knew that look on your face. He prickled with guilt inside, seeing your well-hidden disappointment.

“But you do,” he said with a sigh. “You like them, don’t you?”

You smiled, giving a little shrug. CJ released you from his arms so you could turn around and sit across from him on the bed.

“They’re the first real friends I’ve made here in Boston,” you admitted.

You came up to Boston Bay College from New York last year. Joey had been your first friend, not only because you were assigned to be roommates (along with Audrey), but because you two were in the same major.

You and Joey often had the same classes together. Over the past few months, you’d gotten friendly with Audrey, Jack, Pacey, and even Jen, before she started acting a bit stiffly around you.

You grabbed CJ’s hand. “Look, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Like I said, we don’t have to go.”

CJ shook his head and squeezed your hand back.

“No, it’s okay. We can go,” he said. He was just glad you didn’t try to drag him to this thing without telling him all the angles first. He wasn’t one for surprises.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your brows furrowing. CJ smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, why not,” he said. He didn’t want to be the reason you missed out on something, even if it had the potential to make him very, very uncomfortable.

It was worth it to get your smile though. You leaned over to wrap your arms around his neck in a warm hug.

“Thank you, thank you!” you said, giggling in his ear.

It made him smile. With a soft groan, he turned you over and laid you back down on the bed. You let out an oof at the way he half smothered you with his weight, but you didn’t let go of him.

“You’re gonna be late for class at this rate,” you reminded him.

CJ was studious and a more responsible student than most, but today, he didn’t really give a shit if he was late to his Philosophy class.

Instead, he kissed his way up your neck until he found your lips. There he drew it out slow, savoring the feeling of you underneath him, of swallowing your breath with each new kiss.

Meanwhile, his hand once again found its way under your stolen sweater and teased both sighs and moans from your mouth. He parted from you, just for a moment, to see the fairly dazed look on your face. He smiled and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Well, good morning,” he said.

Your resulting laughter shook both of you. You buried your fingers in his messy hair and wrapped your legs around his hips.

“It’s about to be,” you nodded.

AN: And there we have it! Short and sweet. Let me know what you think. 😘

Read the Sequel!

Ready to read on to the sequel? Check out One Exception:

Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).  

▶️ Keep Reading: One Exception

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