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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

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Smoke Me Out

Kinktober Day 3- Corruption Kink

warnings: female!reader, college!au, drug use (weed), slight age gap (everyone 18+), slight dubcon, sex while under the influence, childhood friends, brothers best friend!anakin, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, cum play, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors dni

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you are half way through your first semester of college and you've never felt more uncool in you're entire life. you rushed for a sorority and you got into alpha delta pi, and though they have parties every weekend where you get drunk, you still feel like you're missing a key aspect of the college experience.

you want to get high. you've never smoked anything before and you're nervous to ask your sorority sisters or a frat guy to help you through your first time. you didn't know who else to ask to supply good stuff or even who to trust other than anakin.

you've known him forever. he's your brother's best friend and he was always around when you were growing up. you used to have the biggest, most hopeless crush on him when you were younger. now he's a junior at the same college you go to, but it's a state school, everyone from your hometown goes there.

when you finally decide to ask anakin to give you some weed, you text him, telling him you're coming over. no information or anything, just "omw".

you walked the mile or so to the off campus house anakin shares with your brother and a couple other friends. when you walk up, you see the porch light is on, illuminating the figure on the porch.

"your brother's not here," anakin says instead of a greeting.

"i'm not here for him," you say as you skip up the porch steps. anakin sits on a dingy lawn chair and smokes a cigarette, the pungent smell filling the air.

"so what do you want?" he asks, raising a pierced brow at you.

"well..." you start, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"well?"

"i want some weed."

anakin lets out a chuckle. "you're not serious."

"i am! i wanna do it but i don't want to do it for the first time with a stranger."

a slight smirk forms on anakin's lips but he does not make a comment about your double entendre.

"that's cute."

you frown. "i'm serious, anakin. can't you help me out?"

anakin hums like he's thinking about it. "no."

"what? why not?" you whine. "i can pay, i have money."

"it's not about the fuckin' money," he rolls his eyes. "i'm just not going to let my little sister get high."

"i'm not your little sister," you huff.

"might as well be."

"i'm an adult, anakin! i can make my own decisions."

he picks up his foot and stubs his cigarette out on the heel, then tosses the butt onto the porch. he stands up and now, instead of being blow you in the chair, he has to look down to meet your eyes.

"and i can decide not to give you any."

you cross your arms and look up at him. you know it's a bit childish, but if he's going to treat you like one anyway, what's the harm?

"fine then. i'll just get some frat guy to smoke with me."

that seemed to get a rise out of anakin. "no you fuckin' won't," he says, voice gruff.

"i will. you know i'm in a sorority now. i have frat guys busting down my door. i'm sure i'd have a line waiting if i said i wanted to smoke."

anakin's frustration seems to grow when he sees the smirk on your lips. without another word, he grabs your forearm and yanks you, forcing you to follow him into the house.

"anakin!" you exclaim, but he ignores you.

he practically drags you up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. you've never been inside it, only having seen it from the doorway of your brother's room by the stairs.

he marches you over to his dresser and you take in the sight of the room. navy blue sheets on an unmade bed, dirty clothes on the floor, a pair of panties you suspect aren't his at the foot of the bed. empty beer cans, some with holes in the sides, litter the top of the dresser. he has a small box of jewlery for his piercings, a poster of his favorite band, and a framed picture of him with you and your brother as kids.

the room is gross, not unexpected for a 22 year old, but it feels like anakin. evidence of his vices everywhere, but touches of personality shine through.

"you want me to smoke you out, huh?" he opens the top right drawer of his dresser and takes out a pre-roll and a lighter. "here you go."

you take it from him, but you don't feel as excited as you thought. anakin's attitude is kind of killing your vibe.

"are you mad at me?" you ask.

"mad? no," he says, looking at you with crossed arms. "just a little annoyed that you came here beggin' for weed and got all bratty and started running your mouth when i said no."

"i did not get bratty!" you whine, sounding very bratty.

anakin rolls his eyes. he turns and walks towards the window, pushing it open and sitting down next to it. you follow and sit across from him, the blunt and lighter in each hand.

"what do i do?" you ask.

"christ, haven't you ever seen a movie before? you put this end in your mouth," he points to the filter end. "and you light this end."

you do as he instructs, and attempt to take a drag. you end up inhaling too deep and you start to cough, eyes watering. anakin doesn't laugh at you, but he does give you a satisfied little smirk.

you take another hit and this time it goes better, you only cough a little bit. anakin reaches over and grabs the blunt from your hand and you frown.

"you're not smokin' this whole thing yourself."

anakin puts it in his mouth, right were a ring of your lip gloss is, and took a drag just like he taught you, but his was perfect. he didn't cough or choke, and the cloud he exhaled swirled out the window.

he gives it back to you and watches as you take another clumsy drag. when you hand it to him again, he takes a long drag but doesn't pass it back.

"hey," you whine.

"that's enough for your first time," he says.

"that was barely anything, anakin."

"it hasn't hit you yet. you wanted me to take care of you, right?"

you huff. "yeah."

"so shut up."

you roll your eyes but decide not to argue further. you and anakin sit next to the window, letting the slight cool breeze blow in on you. you feel yourself become more fuzzy as time passes. you're not very high, but it just enough to satisfy your curiosity.

"how do you feel?" anakin asks after some time of silence.

"good. fuzzy."

"that's good. means you're not too far gone." anakin takes a pause before continuing. "i can't believe you were gonna let a fucking frat guy smoke you out. do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

your eyes flick back up to meet his; you hadn't realized you were staring at his lips. "some of them are nice."

"nice," he scoffs. "they're only nice because they want to fuck."

"that's not true," you huff.

anakin takes a hit and when he speaks, smoke pours from his lips.

"jesus, you're so naïve. frat guys like dumb inexperienced sorority girls."

"are you calling me dumb?"

"yeah i am. you need to stay away from those guys."

"well it's a little too late for that," you bite.

anakin's brows furrow and his lip curls in disgust. "you didn't sleep with one of them, did you?"

"not just one."

anakin sighs loudly and shakes his head. "what the hell were you thinking?"

"i was at a party and we just had fun. don't act like you've never had casual sex before." anakin stubs out the blunt on the window sill and leaves it there to smolder. he gets up from the floor and walks around the room aimlessly. "why are you being so dramatic? are you jealous or something?"

anakin's eyes snap over to yours. "no, i'm not fuckin' jealous. no one's fuckin' allowed to touch you."

"why do you get to decide that?" you shout, feeling your blood boil with anger.

"because you're mine!" he yells back, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "i protect you, i keep you fucking safe from assholes like the ones you're just falling into bed with."

"i’m not a child, i don't need you to protect me!"

"i obviously haven't done a very good job. why would you even want a frat guy, they don’t know how to fuck.”

“and you do?”

you’re not sure why you said it. it’s irrelevant to the argument but for some reason it just slipped out. you can’t say you’ve never thought about how anakin would fuck before. you’ve spent many nights up late thinking about your older brother’s best friend.

“yeah i do,” he says, voice low. “i could show you what good sex is. it’s nothin’ like you had with those guys.”

your breath catches in your throat at the unexpected development. is anakin offering to fuck you?

“i thought you said i was like your little sister,” you say, suddenly timid.

“that's what you're hung up on?” he asks as he crosses the room in a few short strides. standing right in front of you, anakin towers over you. you have to crane your neck to look up at him, meeting his light eyes. "let me do my job and teach you something, huh?"

you shyly nod, none of the anger from moments ago fueling your actions any longer. desire burns in anakin's eyes, and although its odd that he is looking at you in such a way after being nothing more than platonic your whole life, it doesn't feel wrong.

"you want me to kiss you?" anakin asks. again, you nod.

he leans his head down and presses his lips to yours. it's not very tender, but you didn't expect it to be. his lips are slightly chapped and the kiss is rough. he's claiming you. anakin's hands grip onto your wrists and he pins them to your sides as he continues to explore your mouth.

when he pulls away, his lips glisten with spit and he's smirking down at you. he walks you over the bed and grabs the hem of your shirt. without saying anything, you raise your arms above your head and he takes it off, leaving you in your bra. anakin looks at your chest shamelessly, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

"anakin," you say, embarassed.

"what? you wanted me to fuck you and now you're getting all shy when i look at your tits?" he palms your breasts through your bra, watching them bounce. "how're you gonna react when i see your pussy?"

"don't say that," you whine.

"say what, pussy?" you nod. "aw, is that too dirty for you, sweetheart?"

he grins as he takes off his own shirt and tosses it to the floor. you ogle at his bare torso, acting like it's your first time seeing it. he has gotten more tattoos since the last time you saw him shirtless, and his left nipple has a silver bar through it.

without waiting for you to catch up, anakin undoes the buckle on his jeans and pushes them down to his ankles, kicking them off before removing his socks. now he's left only in a pair of loose plaid boxers that rest low on his hips, showing off the star tattoos on his hip bones. he then motions to you to do the same.

you kick off your shoes and socks, then more timidly, you take off your pants. you're left standing in your childhood crush's bedroom in your underwear.

"come on, take off your panties," he says, grinning. "let me see that pussy." you pout in response. he steps closer to you, putting his large, warm hands on your hips. "do you want me to do it for you?" you bite your lip and nod slightly.

he holds onto the waistband of your panties and pulls them down as he sinks to his knees. he lets the delicate fabric fall to the floor and he looks hungrily at the newly exposed area. he leans his face in and presses his nose to the joint of your leg and groin, taking a deep inhale of your scent.

"anakin!" you squeal, grabbing his hair and pushing his head away.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sitting back on his heels.

"don't be mean to me."

"i'm being mean? imagine how those frat guys would treat you. actually, don't."

anakin pushes you back on the bed and he crawls between your open legs, resting his cheek on your thigh as he stares at your pussy.

"what a pretty cunt," he smirks.

teasingly, he traces his finger over your slit, gathering your wetness. he circles your clit to gauge your reaction, delighted when you squirm.

"i bet most guys can't even find this. the most action it's probably seen is from you playin' with it yourself," he says, eyes flicking up to yours. "is that true?"

you squeeze your eyes shut and nod, evoking a laugh from anakin.

"this poor, neglected little pussy," he coos. "what do you think about when you touch yourself?"

"i-i'm not telling you that," you say, voice breathy.

anakin tuts as he pushes his long, slender middle finger into you.

"i bet it's not any of the guys who can't make you cum. is it a celebrity? what's the name of the actor you used to be obsessed with? i was so jealous if him."

"you, anakin," you whimper.

"what was that?"

"i think about you."

anakin grins and slides another finger into your pussy, curling them up to rub at that spot deep inside you.

"that's a good thing, then, because you're all i think about too."

"please fuck me, anakin," you beg, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears.

"already? but you've only taken two fingers. are you sure you're gonna be able to handle my cock?"

as desperate as you are, you're growing tired of anakin's coddling.

"i'm sure i've taken bigger. just fuck me."

anakin raises his eyebrows and blinks at you a couple times, clearly offended. he gets up from his knees and pulls down his boxers, letting his long, hard cock slap against his abdomen.

"alright then, since you want to be such a big girl, i'll give it to you."

he grabs your lower leg and hoists it over his shoulder as he lines his head up with your entrance.

"wait," you stop him. "are you clean?"

he gives you an unimpressed look. "yeah, i'm clean. are you?"

"yes," you nod.

"i'm not gonna knock you up, am i?"

"if it happens, it happens." anakin freezes. "i'm joking, you asshole. i'm on the pill."

he rolls his eyes and presses his tip into you. you whimper at the stretch but you give him the okay to keep going, so he continues. he feeds his cock into you and it feels never-ending.

"is it too big for you yet?" he asks smugly.

"shut up," you breathe.

after going slow to start, anakin seems to get tired of waiting. he pushes in until he's fully seated inside you, filling you up more than you ever have been. he then starts to rock his hips, driving his head deeper.

"fuck," he groans. "never imagined this pussy'd feel so good."

you reach down to rub your clit as he fucks you, feeling yourself becoming closer as he continues to stimulate your g-spot with his cock.

sex with your previous partners truthfully had not bern very satisfying. but with anakin, you find yourself hurtling towards the edge faster than you get with your favorite toy. maybe its from years of pent up attraction to him finally spilling over. maybe he’s just that good at sex.

“just like that,” you say breathlessly.

anakin is looking down at you with half-lidded, lust filled eyes. his mouth hangs open as he thrusts into you, really putting his back into it to fuck you hard like you deserve.

“little cunt’s squeezin’ my cock. guess she likes me, huh?” he asks with a smirk. you bring your arm up to cover your embarrassment from his babbling. “don’t be such a prude, i know you like what i’m sayin’. you’re soaking me. it’s dripping all the way down my balls, baby. you made such a mess of me with that slutty cunt.”

you let out an unintelligible whine and anakin laughs. your fingers speed up on your clit as anakin fucks you harder, keeping up with the intensity of the stimulation.

“i’m gonna cum,” you say quietly, like you’re confessing a shameful sin.

“yeah?” he asks. “cum all over my dick, baby. ‘m all yours.”

after a few more thrusts, the tension in your stomach releases and your orgasm washes over you. anakin continued to fuck you through it, dragging it out longer than just a few seconds.

when you finally let yourself relax, the stimulation becomes too much and you whine at anakin, telling him to stop.

“your little cunt not used to it being that good?” he asks as he pulls out.

his cock stands against his abs, slightly curved and glistening with your cum. he strokes himself as he looks at your body, deciding how he wants to cum.

“get on your knees,” he says.

“i don’t wanna blow you,” you saw, furrowing your brows at the thought of your juices in your mouth.

“i wanna cum on your tits. get on your knees.”

you stand from the bed on wobbly knees and kneel on the ground in front of anakin. he positions his dick in front of your face, but too far to taste it. he jerks himself off, using your cum as lube to make the glide smoother.

“look up at me,” he demands. you do so, looking up at his face with wide eyes instead of at his cock. “those pretty eyes,” he mumbles.

you watch his abs clench and flex as he nears his orgasm. it’s almost mesmerizing to see the physical reaction he has to you.

“want you to cum on me, anakin,” you say.

maybe you’re playing it up a bit for his sake, but it seems to work, because suddenly he’s moaning and hot spurts of cum paint your skin. he continues to jerk himself off until he’s finished, and as he catches his breath, he admires his artwork.

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

anakin drops to his knees in front of you and drags his fingertips through the mess on your tits.

“that wasn’t your pay of getting payment for the weed, was it?” you ask, giggling.

“fuck no,” he pants. “nah, i did that cause i wanted to. and now i’m never gonna let you look at another frat guy again.”

#anakin #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic #anakin skywalker x you #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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weixuldo · 5 months

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Like a Drug

Toxic!Anakin x Reader

a/n: hihihi, this one is a pretty long one shot ahh sorry! its based on this ask from @hanasnx ! (Though I did change the promp a little) I just wanted to also update that It is officially finals week- so I'll be slower than i alr am SORRY!! but i have been working on the next xhapters of allow me and enigma when i get breaks!! I hope u enjoy! ALSO! Please don't stay w someone if they act the way anakin does in this fic- this is purely a scenario for fictional purposes, never let anyone do anything he does, to you.

Anakin has a very peculiar way of showing his love; well you call it love other people call it an unhealthy obsession... you finally realize how fucked up the situation is and leave- but the real question is how long can you stay away?

warnings: cursing, toxic bf ani, smex, cumplay, agressive behavior, mention of blood, fights, alluded sexual harassment, anakin is obsessive and posessive. (he's does some fucked up shit)

_____________________

“Get up” Anakin’s stern voice rang as he gripped your upper arm.

You jumped at the unexpected contact- why was Anakin here?

“Ani! You scared m-” you started to laugh before he tightened his grip.

“Now.” he growled.

You looked back at your friends sitting across the table from you; their eyes were wide. Before you could say anything, Anakin started to pull you up.

“Let go of her!” one of your friends demanded.

He snapped his head towards her and only loosened his grip on you to stomp to the other side of the table. His tall frame towered as he glared daggers at her.

“The fuck did you just say?” he spat.

She went pale and looked down at her lap.

“That’s what I thought. Anyone else have any smart comments?” he huffed, before promptly pulling you out of the restaurant.

Before you made it all the way out the door you mouthed an “its ok” to your friends before following your boyfriend outside.

“Anakin, what the fuck?” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air.

He continued towards his sleek black camaro (he loved to drive through the city at night, music blaring and his hand on his property, your thigh).

“Don’t fucking ignore me Anakin!” you shouted, gaining the attention of an older couple who were heading inside the restaurant.

Your cheeks burned as you caught their stares, but honestly you were used to this shit, it wasn’t the first time you and Ani had made a scene in public. Anakin always did this- he would get pissy over some irrelevant thing and you would get into an argument.

He stopped and turned with such anger.

“You really wanna know? You shouldnt have to fuckin’ ask why I’m upset! If you ever thought of anyone but yourself you’d see how fucked up it is of you to get dinner with those bitches who want to break us up” he screamed; his beautiful blue eyes dark with rage.

You knew Anakin hated your friends. And you knew they hated him.

“You know they don’t like me and always try to get you to leave- Meanwhile those sluts cant keep their legs shut; they’re probably just jealous cause I’m the only guy who gets to fuck you and they have to find a new one every night!” he spat.

Most of your friends were in stable relationships, but of course Anakin didn’t bother to remember that.

“How am I selfish Anakin? I just wanted to grab dinner with the girls and you didn’t even come up. I told them not to bring you up after the last fight” you sighed, exhausted from Anakin's irrational moods.

His sculpted jaw clenched and his right eye twitched.

“It's the fact that you still even allow their company, it’s disrespectful.”

You shook your head and huffed in disbelief.

“Anakin, you are absolutely unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable… Do you even hear yourself right now?!” you screamed.

“And not that it should even fucking matter, but how did you even know I was with them?”

“I have your location- you know that” he stated as if you asked if the sky was blue.

“I know that, but how about them?”

He knew where they were because he made several alternative snapchat accounts and pretended to be someone from school who was just looking for new friends.

He spent nights pretending to be an excited freshman who was wondering where the science building was. He used remix to send your friends snaps that made it look like he was on campus or hanging out downtown with other students. And eventually he gained their trust enough for them to turn on their snap map for him so he could “make sure they were safe” if they went somewhere, since it's “dangerous for us college girls down here”.

“Intuition.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “No way, you probably chipped their phones or some psycho shit cause you’re fucking crazy Anakin!”

“Well if you just goddamn did what I told you we wouldn’t have to have these conversations or be in these situations” he replied dryly.

“How many fucking “rules” are there for me to follow?! Everytime I go out or do anything, you find something to nit pick! It's exhausting! I don’t even know why I’m still with you?!”

“Get in the car.” he demanded.

“You’re insane if you think-”

His whole demeanor shifted and he sighed, “baby, please… I’m sorry, let’s talk about this”.

“No, Anakin- i’m done with your bullshit” you said, heading back towards the building.

He felt his scarred eye twitch, but he needed to subdue his temper (just until he could take it out on your pretty pussy).

See, Anakin Skywalker was a master manipulator. He knew that no matter how much you fought or how insane he acted- you would always come back.

This was clockwork for him. You’d fight, he’d act vulnerable, you would fuck, and then you’d be good for a while. A perfect system. Never failed.

He called your name with a desperate plea- he had no problem acting needy if it got him to where he needed to be, plus this gave you the illusion of having power in this familiar situation.

You hesitantly turned around to meets his gaze; his beautiful blue eyes glassy with his brilliant manipulation.

“Baby, I’m sorry- I just worry about you..” he spoke softly as you subconsciously came closer.

Soon his strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his scent flooded your senses.

“You know I can't control my feelings sometimes- I just love you too much- I can’t lose you too…” he whispered into your hair.

You knew exactly what he was referring to with the “too”- his mother. He was very close with her, growing up she was all he had. A few years back she passed away and it took a big toll on your lover.

You never wanted to admit it, but you knew he used that to guilt trip you into staying or to get you to feel bad for him.

You hated him.

But you couldn’t stop…

You held him tighter and grabbed his shirt fabric, “I know Ani… I know”.

You were now crying too- You knew this was unhealthy- toxic even; but you just couldn’t quit him.

You felt his strong arms lift you up and he carried you towards his camaro; you knew what came next… He’d comfort you, fuck you, then you would act as if no argument ever happened.

A cycle you had gotten all too familiar with.

__________________________________

“F-fuck” Anakin stuttered as he slammed his cock into you; intensive sounds of your bodies colliding, ricochet off the bedroom walls.

“You feel s-so good Baby- doin’ so good for me” he praised as he thrusted in and out of your plush walls. You were lying on your back as he held one of your legs over his shoulder so he could hit even deeper.

The glorious feeling of his calloused hands along your smooth stomach made you shiver. When you first started dating Anakin he told you that he would please you so well that no other men would be able to compare.

he was right…

No man could navigate your body the way he does, read your tells like he could, no man could make you cum as well as Anakin could.

He slowed his hips for a moment making you whine at the lack of movement from his thick cock.

“Look at me baby”.

You blinked your doe eyes open, tears falling from the corners. He observed your features before his eyes softened.

“My girl, my pretty girl… always so lovely” she smiled before tenderly kissing you.

“I love you more than anything” he whispered against your plump lips.

This.

Moments like this were why you stayed: he could be kind- he was sweet- he did care.

You were about to reciprocate his statement but were cut off by his hand tightly gripping around your throat as he continued snapping his hips into yours.

You squealed with each powerful thrust- it was ok, you’d tell him later.

His swollen member was blushing red and as hard as could be. He absolutely adored having you below him, taking his dick like a champ- he remembered how proud he was when you were finally able to take all of him.

A particularly hefty thrust sent his neurons firing and he knew he was almost at his end. He sloppily bucked his hips into your pelvis as his breathing became more erratic.

“I’m gonna cum- w-where do you want it sweet girl?” he half stuttered, half moaned.

You patted your chest and gave Anakin a knowing look.

With that he was gone, his brows knitted together in ecstasy and his hips lurched forward. A string of obscenities left his mouth as he quickly slid his dick out of you to aim for your chest.

Barely one pump in, his warm seed coated your chest. You watched as his abs and thighs contracted with each wave of pleasure. Some of his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he had a sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were flushed.

What a beautiful sight.

_________________________________________

Anakin’s fingers tucked some wild strands of hair behind your ear as you slept peacefully beside him.

Last night cut it a little closer than he normally would have, but it all worked out because here you were, still with him- fast asleep in his bed.

He grabbed your phone and began to go through your messages (an unhealthy habit he picked up a few months back), his fingers immediately moved to the new notifications from your friends.

He opened the pinned group chat and read the messages from last night.

Where r u? Where’d he take u?

Are you alright?

WTF was that?!

Anakin rolled his eyes; your friends were always so dramatic. But he smiled when he saw your response.

“Guys i'm good, ani took me home and we talked things out- he’s just been really stressed out lately, it's nothing to worry about!”

You were his good girl and he’d spoil you today for your loyalty.

He continued to scroll passively until he got to the newer unread messages.

y/n, can we all please talk when you get back- we’re worried about you

Yea, anakin doesn’t seem like he has the best intentions

We hate to see you in this situation

Babe, he’s toxic- u need to dump him

“...u need to dump him”

Anakin almost threw the phone across the room- no way these bitches were telling you to dump him?!

He was the only one who took care of you, he was the only one who knew what was best for you- who did these girls think they were?!

Before he could stop himself he took out his own phone and copied all of their numbers down so he could send several nasty message to the girls basically telling them to back the fuck off and being unnecessarily hateful.

After he blocked their numbers, he decided it was time for a shower, so he left you with a kiss and headed to the bathroom.

The emptiness of the bed made you wake. For a moment, you began to search for Anakin but the shower in the other room indicated where he was.

You smiled and cuddled further into his sheets. The warmth of the blankets began to pull you back into slumber but your phone interrupted the notion.

It was one of the girls you had gotten dinner with last night, what would she be calling this early for?

“Hello?”

y/n, I’m sorry but you need to come back now, I don’t think it's the best idea for you to be with anakin-

“Wait, slow down… why?”

She sent you screenshots of the messages he sent and you almost dropped your phone.

“What the fuck?! Anakin sent this?”

Yes, this morning- I really think you should get out of that relationship y/n- I’ve been telling you this! He’s trying to make you dependent on only him- it's not healthy!

You took a moment to regain your thoughts and quickly said a goodbye when you heard the water stop running.

Why would he be so cruel? You knew he had his issues but he’d never been so explicitly viscous before. Maybe your friends were right, you had been manipulated so much that you were defending his toxic behavior. This had to stop.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him for long (he would just pull you back in). So you quickly began to gather your things so that it would be easier to leave after you talked with him.

You almost had everything packed when the doorknob turned to reveal a fresh Anakin; his hair was still damp from the shower and his skin had a glistening shine from the residual steam. He had such a big smile… you hated this, but it needed to be done.

“What’s going on princess?” he frowned when he saw your bag was already packed.

“Anakin… I have to go” you said hurriedly.

He moved in front of you and held up a hand, “Woah, can we talk about what’s going on? Why are you leaving in such a hurry?” he asked (genuinely worried).

With a sigh, you looked him in the eye, “Anakin- we can’t keep doing this- we aren’t good for eachother”.

He felt his chest tighten.

“Was it your friends? Did they put those thoughts in your head?! I told you they weren’t-”

“Anakin! Please, enough! I saw what you said to them- Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with… You’ve changed so much” you said with watery eyes.

For a moment he looked as if he were going to punch something but eventually he let out a breath and defeatedly stood to the side. Your words seemed to really hit him.

“Angel, I do what I do because I love you- you know that. I know I’m messed up- but I’ve been working on it, Truly” he promised.

Tears fell as you shook your head, “I know Ani, but it's not fair to me- I can’t keep doing this! We always end up fighting and you always get upset”

“I DON'T!” Anakin unintentionally shouted, making you shrink away from him.

“This is what I'm talking about Ani, I don’t wanna do this- no, i’m not doing this anymore. I’m leaving” you said, grabbing your things and heading for the door.

He called your name but you ignored him, you almost got to his front door when he grabbed your upper arm.

“Let go!” you shouted, snatching your arm from his hold.

“Please, just leave me alone” you cried as you walked out of the house and headed for the uber you sneakily called while he was still in the shower.

As the uber drove away, you saw a confused and hurt Anakin standing in his driveway.

You put your head in your hands and cried…

It needed to be done.

It had to.

_________________________________________

A few months later

The early autumn air nipped at your skin as you haistilly exited the rowdy club. You shivered and crossed your arms after checking the time.

10:34 pm

You had only gotten to the damn club 30 minutes ago and you already wanted to leave. You and some friends had gone out to reward yourselves for a hard week (and to hopefully get your mind off of your ex).

Some guy in the club had gotten a little too handsy fior your comfort- he attempted to put his hand up your dress and grope your breasts while you were just leaning over the bar to order another drink. You slapped him across the face and made your way outside to get some air.

You wanted to leave; as you stood by the curb you felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes.

Fuck.

The sensation of alcohol warmed your tummy and clouded your thoughts. Warm, strong hands protecting you from any other man who dared to look at you. Fierce blue eyes warding off any unwanted attention-

No.

You physically shook your head and opened your phone to distract yourself. There was no fucking way you were thinking about him right now. You scrolled to your uber app and looked up rates for a ride back to your apartment.

$40, $35, $47, $32, $43

The rates were through the roof, no way you were going to pay that just to get a few blocks home.

Almost instinctively, your hands moved so that your thumb was shivering over Anakin’s number.

What were you doing?!

You were about to swipe off when you realized: you weren’t willing to take an expensive uber, but you also didn’t want to walk that far in heels and at night. Maybe you should call him… at least you know him and he does owe you a favor anyways.

Fuck it.

You unblock and dial his number.

Ring…

Ring…….

Ring………..

Voicemail.

You groaned. You knew very well what he was doing- he was making you call several times so that you would look desperate. He loved doing that shit. You dialed again.

Ring…

Rin-

“Hey sweet thing, finally came to your senses?” he said, smugness dripping off his every word.

“Anakin- please come pick me up” you sniffed.

“And why would I do that? Why would I do you a favor after you’ve been such a bra-”

“Ani- someone tried to touch me- I wanna go home” you cried.

The other end of the phone went silent. Anakin’s eye began to twitch and his grip on the phone tightened.

“Where?” he gritted out.

“What? I’m on fourth street, over by the old mill-”

“Where did he touch you?” he interrupted.

You took a breath- maybe you shouldn’t have called Anakin, you knew he was going to cause a scene- but at the same time a dark part of you wanted him to become violent with his passion for you.

“He put his hand up my skirt and started groping my breas-”

“I’m on my way” is all he said before finally adding-

“That fucker is dead.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Ani was coming.

___________

Anakin’s knuckles were a fiery red as he dealt several blows to the man who had dared to touch his girl. His vision clouded by rage and hatred; how dare someone try to touch what was his.

Sure, you were broken up (or so you thought); but anakin saw it as just a small break- You were getting back together- he knew it.

All he was waiting on was your call.

Once he was satisfied, he stood up and shook the blood off of his hand. He looked over his work; the man’s face wa bloodied and his lip was cracked (there was also possibly a tooth missing but Anakin didn’t really give a fuck).

He leaned over and spat, “Don’t ever touch someone who isn’t yours again”.

He made his way through the crowd of stunned onlookers who all began to back away from him as he headed towards the bathroom. Once he got there, everyone stepped out and allowed him to walk in with no hesitation (They didn’t want to get on his bad side in any shape or form).

He leaned on the sink and examined the cut on his cheekbone.

Whatever.

He turned on the faucet and washed the blood from his hands; no need for his beautiful girl to see the blood of a fucking perv.

He dried his hands and exited the building to collect you from outside the building.

You stood there, arms crossed, his jacket draped over your shoulders: his Angel.

“Hey, sweetheart” he called in a soft voice as he put his arm around you.

You looked at him with big eyes.

“Are you alright?” He kissed your forehead.

You nodded and hugged him closer to you.

“It's all taken care of, let's get you home”

______

“I knew you’d come back” he broke the silence in the car (well, the radio was on- but you hadn’t spoken since he left the club).

“Anakin, can we please not talk about this right now? '' you said quietly.

He glanced at you and put a tender hand on your thigh.

“Angel, these past few weeks without you have been hell… I’m sorry for how I acted- I love you”.

You knew this was just another way he was trying to manipulate you- he definitely don’t attempt to better himself, but you couldn’t help but indulge him- after all… you missed him too. You placed one of your hands on top of his and met his eye.

“Ani- will you take me to your’s?” you asked shyly, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in his bed.

He smiled and rubbed his hand along your leg, “Of course darling”.

“Maybe I can help relieve some of your stress too,” he added with a deeper tone.

You mentally sighed- of course he wanted that; but you also wouldn’t mind having him near you again, so you politely nodded with a smile.

He squeezed your thigh, “That’s my girl, I knew you couldn’t quit me that easy”

You turned your head to look out the window at the bright city once more… He was right- you just couldn’t quit him.

***

Once again anakin is completely fucked up in this fic- pls dont romantiscice this behavior in real life... other than that- I hope you enjoyed the fic lmfaooo. I haven't really written ani as an actually problamatic character before, its mostly just like rude or grumpy ani lmfao. but ty for stopping by!!

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iamasaddie · 7 months

Text

if my life is mine, what shouldn't I do?

PIMP!Joel masterlist paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader rating: explicit word count: 5.2k summary: There’s tension between you and Joel, and you, are failing to understand why the man’s behavior changed. You are placed before a choice once again. warnings (for the chapter): angst; angry Joel; emotionally unavailable Joel; oral (f receiving); unprotected PinV (‼️); light praise kink; light dirty talk a/n: this honestly took a lot from me. thanks to @multiversed-daydreamer for being my beta for this chapter, ily bby <3

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Morning was gloomy. It’s been bucketing down all night, and instead of finding the sound peaceful, you struggled to find sleep. The past three days the weather in the QZ became worse and worse, and you could say the same about Joel’s mood. You doubted it was because of the clouds, but as the wind tried to break flimsy-looking wooden window frames, Joel started breaking things around the house. Accidentally, or so he said.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of him, but you found yourself trying to be less and less in his presence. For some reason, unsure that you wouldn’t be another thing he accidentally breaks. His usually light-hearted demeanor and stupid quips turned into constantly furrowed brows and snarky remarks. You tried to find the reason for such a drastic change, but couldn’t. Maybe it was something outside. Something besides the rain. Deep down, you knew it wasn't just external factors causing Joel's sudden shift in behavior, you just couldn’t quite put it together.

You shivered under your blanket, trying to get warmer with your knees pressed tightly to your chest. It felt like the dampness seeped through the walls and gradually started soaking into your bones, making whatever clothes you had useless.

"Fuck," you muttered to yourself and started running cold palms up and down your legs, to bring some warmth to no avail. The rain was still assaulting the only window in the living room, and with dark clouds overtaking the skies it was almost impossible to see without turning the lights on. You knew it was morning, your biological clock was the only thing that worked properly in your body, but you could see fuck all. Still, unwilling to somehow wake Joel up, you decided to go to the kitchen, surrounded by almost darkness. You wrapped your blanket tighter around your body and paddled to the kitchen, dragging your socked feet on the wooden floors.

"Where did he put his fucking tea?" You discovered a weird habit of talking to yourself when you were alone now. Living with four people and working with even more before you moved here made you cherish every moment of silence you had, but now, when there were plenty, it felt weird to not hear someone talking all the time.

"It's in the cupboard above you."

You jumped out of surprise, not hearing Joel come up quietly from behind. His voice was groggy with sleep and already irritated.

"You scared the shit out of me," you exclaimed, your heart still pounding. Joel rolled his eyes.

"Didn't think I'd startle you considering I am in my house, and it shouldn't be a surprise for you that I get up in the morning to go to my kitchen to drink a cup of my coffee from my mug," Joel muttered, his annoyance evident in his voice.

You felt anger bubbling in your veins as you tried to put down the cup you were holding in your hands as lightly as you could manage so you didn’t break it. What the fuck was his problem? Surely he wasn’t angry you didn’t have any more lessons after you sucked him off, right? It‘s not like you were against it, he just never said anything and you felt weird to ask. But that didn’t give him the right to treat you like that.

"What the hell, Joel, did you get your period or something?"

"No, I didn't get my fucking period, but it looks like I will be bleeding soon since you're draining me this good." You stared at him not blinking, his jaw clenched and you could swear you heard his teeth grinding against each other. "You've been here for more than a fucking week, and I don't see any money coming in my pocket, you just keep eating, and wasting my hot water, and…-"

The blood pumping in your ears made it almost impossible to hear what he was saying, you saw his lips moving, baring his teeth, but it was like you had cotton in your ears. Your chest started rising and falling faster, your breathing rate accelerating. You felt your back muscles tense up and tried to shake your head before starting to talk over Joel.

"You were the one who told me I needed to learn first to…-"

It was his turn to interrupt you.

"I know what the fuck I said. Just didn’t think you’d take so fucking long." He turned on his heels, stomping out of the room and you were ready to scream, quivering with frustration, but he seemed to change his mind, turning back around and rushing towards you. His face hardened, the redness of it fading as he looked you in the eyes. "Today's the last lesson. I'm going out, get yourself ready, take a bath. I'm gonna show you basic positions, and you’ll start working Monday.''

"But…" His words felt like a final sentence, the judge's hammer hitting you right on the head, and all the words that you could say remained in the form of "o" on your lips. Before he left the apartment, he turned to you once more, taking in your sunken form.

"You can leave if you change your mind. If you're here when I'm back I will take it as you made the decision to stay." Your heart throbbed with uncertainty as his words reverberated in your mind.

You felt desperation mounting on with every step that you took towards the bathroom. Yes, he said you still had a choice, but in reality, there was only one option, and both of you knew that. When you stepped into the familiar space and turned on the shower, you didn’t feel the temperature of water running down your tight skin. Unfortunately for you, you quickly grew fond of the perfect little moments of enjoying Joel’s hot shower every day, prolonging your stay under the warm spray by three minutes every day, which apparently pissed Joel off. Today was different, however, and you wanted to get out as soon as possible.

Your mind was fogged as much as the small room you occupied, the only thing cutting through your dullness was fear of the quickly approaching uncertainty. You didn’t know where it came from, since you had been preparing yourself for what was about to come from the moment you said “yes” to Joel now more than a week ago. You just thought you’d have more time. Even if you didn’t know what you needed that time for. You still hadn’t seen the place where you were going to work. Joel said he’d show you around it soon, it looked like ‘soon’ meant Monday.

If only you knew what you did wrong. Was it something that you said that prompted him to turn his attitude 180? Or was it all a fucking act from the beginning, and now he was just showing his true colors?

You started replaying your moments together from day one. He was never overly polite or gentle, but he seemed honest, and you’d grown to respect that. You got used to him speaking his mind, be that less than kind comments about your cooking skills the only time you tried to make breakfast; or the amused snort when you suggested to suck him off on the second day of your period “to practice some more”. You remembered the overwhelming hot wave of embarrassment taking over you from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet when he barked a laugh and shook his head, saying that you were good. Was that the reason for the change in his behavior? Because that was the day it all began. Were you too eager? Too annoying? Did he think you faked your inexperience to get a warm place and a full belly for a lesser price?

Fuck.

You hated being in the dark, both literally and metaphorically. His honesty was a gulp of fresh air that made you slowly build some trust, even if it was one-sided, and now he became as confusing as the rest of them. Or, again, maybe he always was, you were just too fucking naïve to see.

Your soapy hands moved along your body on autopilot, and you only realized you washed your hair when the bubbly water started stinging your eyes. You hurried to face the water and tried to wash as much of it off as it was possible, rubbing your eyes until you saw colorful dots dancing behind your eyelids.

Still clueless about the reason for Joel to be mad, you made a decision to think of it as him showing his real face. There was nothing wrong with you, he was just an asshole. And tonight you were going to fuck that asshole. Or, rather, he was going to fuck you. You could only hope that he’d be fast, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you because you were his investment, but you didn’t know if he’d care enough to make you come. After all, he did tell you that your pleasure would never be on your future clients’ agenda.

You turned the water off, shaking as the coldness of the room started sinking into your skin, and put on his borrowed t-shirt and a pair of simple black cotton panties he brought you on the day you started your period. You figured there was no reason for you to put on pants, as what was ahead of you asked for even fewer clothes than you were currently wearing. Finding your usual spot on the couch, you threw a blanket over yourself, the room smelled musty and damp, and the rain kept beating staccato on the windows matching your heartbeat with its rapid taps. You felt tears biting the corners of your eyes and hurried to wipe them before they could stain your cheeks. You were going to be fine. You didn’t know why you were so sure, but it was like intuition inside you telling you that no matter what, you were going to get through it and you were going to be fine.

"You’re gonna grit your teeth, ride his cock, and then you’re gonna be fine." You whispered to yourself, clenching the soft material of your blanket in your fists. "You're gonna be fine, baby. You always are."

Exhaustion overtook your body quicker than you could realize, and your sleepless night ended up in you blacking out in the most uncomfortable position on the couch in the middle of the day. You opened your eyes when you felt a burning sensation on your face, and for a second you thought that was the sun shining through the window and warming your skin up. But it wasn't the sun, it was Joel. When you saw his brooding figure towering over you, your heart leaped into your throat. You felt it pounding there, cutting off your airflow. Joel’s brows furrowed, a deep crease forming between them, as he watched you choke on your own spit and start coughing. You wiped saliva from the corner of your mouth with the back of his hand, and when he was sure you were looking at him, he nodded his head toward his room. It was a pretty clear gesture, and you followed him silently, uneasy because he didn’t say a word.

His movements were slow, calculated. As you closed the creaking door, he was already taking his button-down off, revealing a washed-out, once-upon-a-time white undershirt. You froze. You had never seen him undressed. Even when you stood on your knees in front of him, he only took his jeans halfway down. At first, you thought he might have been insecure, after all, he’s not a young boy, and no one looked good in the New World anyway, it wasn’t a priority anymore. But seeing him freeing himself so easily now, apparently, you made a mistake in your judgment. You were brought back to reality with the clinking sound of him unbuckling his belt.

He seemed very comfortable with his nudity with how easily he untucked and took off his undershirt. It was the first time you saw his chest, and as you saw him, a quiet gasp left your lips. Something he chose to ignore, folding his shirt instead. It was… a lot to take in. His skin was golden, a bit lighter than his arms, and you could clearly see the t-shirt form of his tan, he was mostly hairless, except for the curly trail of salt and pepper hair going from his navel and hiding into his jeans. But what made your eyes widen was the amount of ugly scars across his skin. Some were new, some old, you could tell by the different shades of red or white. You could also see at least three badly healed bullet holes: one on his shoulder, and two closer to his lower stomach. His body was telling you a story of battles fought and wounds endured. A story of Joel’s survival, something you thought you’d never hear from the man himself.

"You… You fought a lot?" You couldn't stop the question from leaving your lips, and Joel winced when you vaguely pointed at his naked chest, not picking one scar but all of the ones you could see instead.

"Don't ask your clients that. Ever." He clenched his jaw, not meeting your eyes.

"No, I know, I wouldn't, I just thought you… Anyways, yeah. Sorry." You hated when you started babbling, but no matter how hard you tried to control it, you couldn't stop.

"Jesus." Joel sighed, shaking his head. He did that a lot. "Just take off your clothes and get on the bed, okay?"

You nodded, grabbing the end of the t-shirt that dwarfed you in your clammy fingers. As you struggled to peel it off, you felt a rush of vulnerability swirl within you. He had already seen you naked, so there was nothing new for either of you. More than that, he already had his fingers inside you deeper than yours ever were. And still, your palms are dampened with cold sweat.

"When the client tells you to undress, he expects that the process won’t take the whole fucking hour he’d paid for."

He hadn't been calling you a rabbit for a few days now, and you hated how much you missed the stupid nickname. As if with it, the warmth that used to make his house different was gone. You nodded, more to yourself than to him, and took off the t-shirt in one swift movement, leaving yourself bare in front of him save for the panties. Joel tsk’d. "When you’re at work, you don’t wear panties unless it’s required by the client. It’s usually not. And even then, you don’t wear something like that," Joel scolded, disappointment filling his voice.

"You brought me these." You felt smaller than a fucking ant, embarrassment and uncertainty hunching your back, trying to protect the grains of your dignity by crossing your arms over your tits. There was no familiar surge of desire that you had gotten used to feeling when Joel was near. It was psychological, you said to yourself before, your body associated him with pleasure, so you felt that buzzing heat in your lower belly whenever he was in your periphery. But it was gone now, nothing now was even close to that exciting feeling. Cold tied your bones, and you thought that you looked now more like a prey, rather than a sexy predator that you were supposed to be. You glanced at Joel, trying to decipher the subtle changes in his expression. You noticed his furrowed brow and the slight tension in his jawline.

"Just, lose the shit and get on the bed, okay?" You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as Joel's words pierced through you. He was never rude before. A bit condescending to your immaturity at times, yes. But never this fucking… rude. You couldn't let his harsh words discourage you, so you simply nodded, putting on a harder shell as you dropped the items of your clothing on the floor where you stood, and awkwardly crawled on his bed. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as soft as the couch you’d been sleeping on, the mattress harder and more firm under your hands and knees. You plopped on your back, staring at Joel patiently. You tried your best to not let your vulnerability show, burying your trembling hands beneath you as if to hide the unease creeping up inside you.

Joel followed suit, discarding his jeans and boxers in one go, avoiding your eyes but looking all over your naked body. You noticed that he forgot to take off his socks, but didn’t mention it. He got on the bed, his body towering on top of you, and you felt that you started to suffocate with so much of him around you. His weight pressed down on your chest, making it even harder to catch your breath.

"Aren’t you going to.. um.. say something?" You tried to calm down your breathing, nowhere near aroused. Joel lifted his brows as he looked at you. There was something more inside the brown pools than just anger or annoyance.

"Men won’t pay you for a chat." He spat, his words a dull echo in your buzzing brain. He dropped next to you, not crowding your body with his anymore, instead giving you a different command. "Get on your hands and knees."

"What?"

"Get on your hands and knees, goddamnit, that’s the most popular position. Higher to the pillows."

You scrambled to do what he said, physical vulnerability was something you could deal with, you told yourself. Or it was something you had to learn how to deal with. The moment when he got behind you was awkward, you didn’t speak, you almost tried not to breathe. When you felt Joel’s massive hands engulfing your hips, you closed your eyes, waiting for something, anything. He spread your asscheeks, two of his thumbs holding you open and reflectively you tried to close your thighs together.

"Don’t." Was the only thing he said, as he continued squeezing your asscheeks. You understood that it was for something other than pleasure. The only thing you realized was that when arousal and want don’t clog your mind with intoxicating fog, sex is weird. You start to analyze your movements, how the position must look ridiculous, and why do people even bother sticking their genitals into each other? Your train of thought was interrupted when Joel slid his index finger down your slit, your folds sticking to his dry thumb, betraying your lack of arousal.

You heard Joel inhale, it wasn’t irritated or surprised (you didn’t notice how you learned the different ways he inhaled), it was just deep. You could almost see how his naked chest rose and fell.

"Are you afraid of me?"

His question caught you off guard and you had to think about it for a second. Were you? You were definitely intimidated by his power, his strength, but that had never stopped you from feeling that pinch of heat in your lower belly when he was near. And now you were just… confused? Sad? No, you were definitely not afraid of him. You shook your head.

"No, Joel. I am not afraid of you."

"Okay."

You heard the bed creak and you thought he was going to leave you, leave the room, get annoyed that you weren’t ready. But instead, you just felt the mattress shift, and then a wet persistent stripe being dragged from your clit to your entrance. You jumped, "Fuck!"

He was... was he giving you oral? What the fuck, why would he do that? Not expecting such a thing, you moved further up the bed, detaching his face, or rather his tongue, from your pussy.

"Where the fuck are you going?" His hands grabbed you by the thighs, practically dragging you back into him, and he circled his arms around you so you couldn’t get away.

His tongue was hot, and before he licked another stripe you felt him spitting right onto your core. Arousal that was nowhere to be found mere minutes ago showed its treacherous face, combining with a glob of Joel’s spit that dripped down your slit. "Do men pay to do that?" You stammered, knowing full well there was no way in hell men would pay to make a whore feel good. But why else would Joel do that to you now, then?

He hummed in your pussy and you felt goosebumps rushing from your ass and down your thighs, giving way to a new sensation. Joel unlatched his lips with a smack, "only the ones who have good taste."

"Oh, I just… I thought you’d just… fuck me."

"If I were to do that," the way he interrupted his sentences with wide stripes of his tongue, sliding the wet muscle from your now pulsing clit to dive into your welcoming entrance, drove you insane, "you’d not feel very good."

"You want me to feel good?" Something trembled, and this time not just in your stomach.

"I don’t want you to feel bad." He answered flatly, diving back in with such vigor that you fell further on your elbows and pressed your head into the pillow that smelled like the man between your thighs.

You had never felt anything like it, when he alternated fat swipes of his tongue to piercing kitten licks on your clit, you wailed shamelessly. He made you feel more than good, your pussy fully dripping and you just hoped he wouldn't suffocate when you pushed your hips harder into him, resulting in his nose catching on your entrance. You couldn’t think about anything but the buzzing need to get your pleasure, chasing it like a wild hungry dog chasing a rabbit in the forest. You could swear you heard Joel call you a good girl in between the ravenous licks and nips. He was lapping at your juices, vulgar slurping noises interrupted by your sighs and moans. You felt something trickle on the back of your thighs and you wondered if it was sweat, your arousal, his saliva, or everything mixed together. Somehow the excessive bodily fluids didn’t disgust you, on the contrary, they ignited the fire inside you. When you felt like you were about to snap, Joel chose that exact moment to feed three of his fingers into your pussy. The stretch was sudden, and the sting scared your orgasm away, but it wasn’t terrible. He sucked on your clit, spreading his fingers inside you at the same time, which felt like too much.

"Joel it’s, it’s too much." You whined, your voice muffled by the pillow you continued to bite with his every thrust.

"You’re okay, baby," he placed a kiss close to your entrance, licking your opening stretched around his fingers. "You gotta take it, so it feels better when I’m buried inside your pretty cunt. Okay?"

"O—fuck- kay. Okay." You took a deep inhale, the stretch bothering you less and less as his tongue continued abusing your twitching clit. Sometimes he would leave it to come back and lick all the expanse of your pussy up to your asshole. It’s like he wanted to clean you, instead of letting you create an even bigger mess.

When his fingers plunged into you with no resistance, when your gritted teeth relaxed, letting your moans out of your fucking soul, that’s when he stopped.

"Why’d you…?" You snapped your head back, looking at him with confusion. Oh, what a sight he was. His chest marred with scars and wounds was accessorized by pink and red blotches, covered in sweat and glistening. The veins on his neck were prominent, like he was screaming, or tense, and his face. Fucking God, that face. Drenched from nose down, some of your juice still stuck to his scruff and he wasn’t in a hurry to wipe it off. No, instead he licked his lips slowly, burying your taste within his mouth, as his raven black eyes stared back at you. If that was how an animal looked at its prey, you were ready to become his meal. Nothing existed for you at that moment. No situations, no statuses. It was just raw pleasure, and he was the one providing (and denying) you with it.

"I’m gonna fuck you now." As he said it, you looked lower where his hand, still slick with your wetness, tightened around his cock. It was ridiculous how it still looked massive in his enormous hands and your breath caught. If it was hard to fit his fingers, you couldn’t imagine shoving that thing up your pussy. How did you even manage to suck him off? He must’ve seen the hesitance on your face. "Don’t worry, baby, you can take much more than that."

You nodded, not quite believing his words as he came closer. Just the feeling of his tip at your entrance made you clench, and he squeezed your hip at first, the pain of his grip a satisfying distraction, and then he returned his fingers to your clit, holding his thick and throbbing shaft with three fingers of his left. "Relax, baby, it’s gonna be good, I promise," his murmur was gentler than you expected, gentler than before, and when he rolled your clit softly between his fingers, you felt him press a kiss to your shoulder blade. He’d never done that, he never kissed any part of you, and either out of surprise, or because you felt excitement drowning down your fear, you pushed your hips back, swallowing half of his tip. He took it as an open invitation, slowly pushing all of him inside you in one slow motion, making you regret your eagerness.

"Oh my god, oh my fucking fuck, what the fuck, oh no no no. Why are you so huge? How are you so huge? Are you part horse? What the fuck?" You couldn’t stop stupid words and questions from leaving your mouth as his length practically split you in two. You felt him with every tiny molecule of your body, it’s like his cock pierced you from your pussy and up into your throat, you could swear you felt his tip hitting your fucking glands. You heard him chuckle, but he stilled, only his fingers continued playing with your clit.

"It’s because you’re- fuck," he gritted through his teeth, resuming slow motions, "tight as fuck." It felt like it took you forever to get accustomed to his girth, his length, you thought you could count the veins on his cock just by feeling them with your pussy. "Relax, baby, come on. Make it good for yourself."

You wanted to snap at him, did he have any idea how much cock you had to take at that moment? But then he twisted his hips, punching a spot inside you that made you cry out, and not in pain. "Theeere we go," he almost sang. You didn’t say anything, couldn’t bring yourself to form any coherent sentences or even words as his speed increased. His fingers left your clit, instead finding their place on your hips. He almost treated you like a little rag doll, tugging you on his cock instead of pushing in himself. The heaviness of his balls bruised your sensitive pussy, and as you grew more and more used to the size of him, the sting of stretch bringing more pleasure than pain, your moans grew louder. His pace was relentless, your whimpers and his growls the only music accompanying the wet slaps of your body. The coarse hairs above his cock pillowed your ass, as he snapped his hips especially hard. You grew hungrier and hungrier with each time Joel’s tip bruised that spot that made you a dizzy whining mess. Now, you pushed yourself on him like you wanted to swallow even more of him, even though realistically you thought that if there was more of him you’d need to find a doctor. Your back arched with impending orgasm, you just needed a little bit more of… More of something.

"Play with your clit, come on, you know how to do that," his voice sounded pained like he was on the verge of breaking. You followed his order, shoving your fingers between your swollen folds and finding your throbbing clit. You needed five hard strokes in total to drop down. Or to lift up into the heavens. Maybe both, because your body shuddered and you fell on the bedsheets, the sudden loss of Joel’s cock almost painful, as your mind and soul traveled to cloud nine and higher. You could barely make out his hisses and the wet sounds of his hand working his cock to completion until his cum hit your body trembling in the post-orgasmic bliss.

"Never let them cum inside of you, by the way." He said matter of factly, as he dropped on the bed next to your spent body, his cum tainting your asscheeks.

The silence of the room was broken by your loud breathing. Your lungs felt too small for the amount of air you tried to inhale. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say after everything, but the silence was more than uncomfortable. You felt your skin start to itch with every passing second, and you doubted it had anything to do with a sheen of sweat and his cum slowly drying up.

"I know what you did." Joel’s voice was surprisingly even, no heavy breaths or husky rasps. You snapped your head to look at his face, he was staring at the ceiling. Your body was inches away, nothing but your bent knee touching his thigh connected you.

"Wh.." You weren’t given a chance to ask the question, Joel’s eyes meeting yours, fire dancing in the brown irises, but not the one that was there an hour ago.

"Don’t you even dare," he hissed, and you wanted to hide your head in your chest like a turtle. "You pull that shit again," he pointed his thick index finger at the wardrobe, and you felt like someone splashed you with a bucket full of ice. He knew. "Or anything close to it, and you're out of here. Not even out of the apartment, out of the picture, back on the fucking streets hungering to death, you got it?" Even though it was a question, it didn’t sound like it needed an answer. Hot embarrassment washed all over you and you felt it pooling in your eyes.

"I’m sorry." You whispered. You really were sorry, you shouldn’t have done what you did, but there was no way to take that back. You were mature enough to admit your mistake, but apparently, it wasn’t enough for Joel. He lifted himself laying on his side and facing you, keeping his body up by leaning on his elbow. Looking in your eyes for a second, he studied your features, you wondered what he saw there because his face didn’t soften.

"Answer my fucking question. You got it?"

You nodded and hurried to answer because you felt like your silence would only piss him off more.

"Yes, Joel, I got it."

"Okay." He stared at you for another long minute, his eyes gliding over your lower lip that was now trapped between your teeth in an attempt to keep any other words silenced. His nostrils flared with a heavy exhale, eyes closing as if he was exhausted, and then he dropped back to his pillow without opening them. "Now go," he said flatly, "I need some sleep."

don't forget to leave a comment if you liked the chapter 🐇🤍

#iamasaddie fic #pimp!joel #htbs #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

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mynameis-noe-body · 6 months

Note

Can you do a marquis one shot where the reader works as a tailor/assistant/spy for the marquis but they’re also really innocent/upbeat . As he gets to know the reader, he finds himself going from confused that they’re so cheery to loving them as they are to corruption kink?

Thank you for your patient, anon. 🖤 I hope you'll love this.

This add to a second request I recieved.

➡️ Also cause I saw you mentioned a corruption kink, one with the marquis de framing would be fantastic 🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️

I didn't quite understand, but here is corruption kink fo you. I hope you'll love this as well.

Little dove

Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont × you (F)

Rating: Explicit

Status: Complete (one shot)

“Oh, Marquis De Gramont — what a pleasure to have you here!” you exclaimed, seeing him enter your shop. You walked towards him, holding the door open and showing him your best smile. “I just got an absolutely cheeky outfit that you will love, exactly your size.”

Vincent smiled. By now he had gotten into the habit of frequenting your shop at least once a week. He didn't lack money, nor time; he loved spending a few hours on a Saturday afternoon exploring the embellished and sumptuous dresses in your shop. And most of all, he loved spending time with you.

So joyful, friendly, sweet — a little macaron. Such a lovely pastry. You were an extraordinary creature, in his eyes. He, who had seen so much death, who had held so much power—he looked at you and found such innocence in your gaze. It was a part of you that was impossible not to love.

He cleared his throat, with a wave of his hand he ordered his second to leave the shop, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone. That was his moment of pleasure.

The first time he entered your shop, fascinated by the silk garments and elegant suits, the shiny patent leather shoes and the cashmere coats, Vincent believed that he would find the usual snooty shopkeeper who would try to raise the prices by realizing his status. But no, you were there. So excited to be able to show off your best suits and dress him up like a fucking prince. Vincent had to call two of his men and a second car to be able to load everything he had purchased and take it home. You had shaken his hand, you had thanked him, you had given him a discount (even!) and you had suggested that he come back soon; you would have been happy to have such a passionate customer in your shop. Vincent might have believed it was a matter of money... but upon returning, noticing the way your gaze lit up when it met his, he changed his mind. You had fun with him. You loved your job. You were excited, happy… innocent. So pure. A sweet, little pastry, in fact.

Once, arranging the collar of his shirt while he was looking at himself in the mirror, you had asked him with a certain veiled embarrassment: “Monsieur De Gramont, forgive my impudence, but I really want to ask. What is your occupation?”

He had laughed. “Are you asking me about my job?” You had blushed, you had apologized stepping back but he had turned around, taking your hand before you could move away. "No need to be embarrassed, cheri. I find your curiosity quite... charming." Your cheeks were colored the sweetest red. He had lifted your hand to his lips, leaving the ghost of a kiss on your fingers. "I am a businessman. Marquis Vincent Bisset De Gramont, at your service."

He had been absolutely lovely. And he, from that moment on, had wanted in the most perverse, craziest, most intense way, to ruin you completely.

Vincent had noticed the way you watched him, so constantly attentive to every curve of his body, the way his muscles filled your clothes, stretching the fabric, wrapping it in the most attractive way. Your intoxicating gaze devoured him, and he was dying to have your hands on him, your desperate eyes, your mouth praying for his benevolence. So submissive, and desperate. Corrupted by your own will, by the desire and pleasure that only he could have brought you.

That day, without exception, you stood behind him while he looked at himself in the mirror and admired himself. But soon, his blue eyes met yours in the reflection. He smiled.

“What do you think, my dear?”

You nodded, your face bright. “That shade of red is definitely your color.”

His eyebrow rose in mock surprise. He caressed the fabric of the jacket with his fingertips, but secretly watched the way your gaze only followed his touch. Bewitching, indeed.

“I like the jacket. I love it. This scarlet is... fiery. Don't you think?” Your eyes flickered up again, and you nodded without adding anything, attempting a shy smile. "And the pants? Do I wear them well?" It was impossible not to notice the way you blushed and swallowed slowly. He bit back a satisfied grin. With his hands on the belt, he gripped it, lifting it a little. “Look at me.”

He nodded. “Maybe I should sit down, and try to feel them.”

And you looked at him. He had them so tight — you could see everything. All of it. You had to fight against your instincts and force yourself to seek his eyes again. You smiled. “I think they are perfect, monsieur.”

Vincent sat gracefully in the armchair next to him, and sighed. There was nothing innocent about his smile. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, he spread his legs. His right hand, on his thigh, went up his leg, stopped right there, so close to his —

“Sweetheart” he interrupted you, laughing loudly. You turned your eyes, deeply embarrassed and red in the face, but he seemed almost happy with your obvious reaction. “Oh, don't get all shy now, my dear.” He made himself more comfortable in the armchair, spreading his legs in an almost vulgar, cheeky way. God, he loved that game. “Come on, look at me. I know you like it. I see you — the way you look at me — and I bet you're not as fragile and innocent as you want me to think, are you?”

Now you looked at him, with your mouth slightly open and your eyes large, wide and full of bewilderment, your cheeks scarlet, your voice trembling as you stammered an apology.

He shook his head, and his face darkened. “No. I will not accept your apology” he hissed. He raised his finger and motioned for you to come closer. “Come here, little dove.”

He wanted you to stand between his open legs, and immediately his left hand grabbed your hip, while with his right he was already unbuttoning his trousers. He licked his lips like a lion at his delicious meal, hungry, ravenous. “Keep looking at me, don't look away, I know you like it” he said.

And look at you, completely disarmed, dominated by that crazy and irrational desire that he wasn't offering to satisfy, on the contrary, it was fomenting your obsession. He was a fascinating man. And a very passionate one, from what you could see. Without any shame he pulled his hard length out of his trousers, stroking himself slowly, showing you all his virility, his silky skin, his intense hardness. He was perfect.

“And I thought you were so pure, innocent” he whispered, with a certain satisfaction. "But now I see how wrong I was, you little pervert. You like watching me, don't you? Ma petite voyeur."

But his hand suddenly slipped between your legs, he lifted your skirt without shame, found your panties already so wet for him and smiled — he smiled, the bastard.

“I — oh, Marquis, I'm mortified. I didn't mean to —”

“Don't you dare apologize again. I want to hear other sounds from your mouth.”

And his fingertips pressed against the little knot of nerves, right there, causing a vibration of pleasure throughout your body. If you were honest, that exposure and embarrassment only inflated your excitement.

“You're already shaking for me.” His voice was deep, controlled. “Tell me anything you want. I want to hear you pray. I know you can. Tell me, and I will satisfy your every curiosity.”

You breathed, your sigh became labored, panting. “Please, Marquis, I...”

He laughed. His hand continued to touch his member, so hard, up and down, and you could do nothing but watch as your intimacy became wet and your hunger grew without rest. "You what, my dear? Do you want me? Is that it? Do you want my hand, my mouth?"

You nodded.

“No — no, love. Tell me.”

You swallowed, searching for a small voice in your chest. "I want you."

“What do you want?”

"All of you!" his fingers moved the panties, you finally felt his touch on you. And, hungrily, they sought the little wet hole between your soft lips. You could hear the sticky sound of your arousal on his fingers.

“Again, tell me more.”

“Your fingers, they're so — oh, oh please. Inside!”

He licked his lips. “What a good girl. You know your manners. But I don't want you so innocent darling, we know how dirty you really are, don't we?”

You shook your head, but you couldn't deny the truth to yourself.

“Tell me you're mine, tell me how much you want me.”

On the verge of tears, humiliated and excited, you nodded. “I'm yours, all yours. I — I want you so bad.”

His fingers slipped inside you, sweet and intense, touching all those perfect spots that made you moan all your pleasure. And you closed your eyes, for a moment. He stopped.

“Nu-uh, eyes on me. You like to watch. Tell me you like it.”

Yes, yes. “I love it. You are...”

“What? Don't be afraid. I want to hear everything.”

“Perfect. Your body, your...”

Oh, you were still so embarrassed. No, he wanted more. Vincent stood up suddenly, mistreated you hard, pushing you onto the chair. So, still dressed, he knelt over you, tickling your pussy lips with the head of his hard cock. You were dying of pleasure, and you looked at him excited and scared at the same time.

“I know you want it — say it. Tell me you're my little slut, tell me you want my hard cock inside you. Say it!”

And you cried, pleading. “I'm everything you want! Your whore, your tight cunt, your little slut — just give it to me, fuck me hard, now!”

And Vincent finally obeyed.

He fucked you, hard and deep, with an unprecedented ardor, grabbing your hair, your neck, biting your lips, spitting on your tongue.

“More, use me!” you begged. "Yours, only yours! I love it! Fuck my cunt — my ass. Yes, spit on my tongue, and fuck me like you mean it!”

“Dirty, dirty girl” he growled. His fingers dug into your thighs. "I knew you were a slut underneath, all mine. My little voyeur, my bad, dirty girl. That's it, take it, take it all!”

The contractions of your orgasm milked his cock, every drop of his come inside you. And you panted his name, and every dirty thing, now corrupted by that pleasure and prey to a will stronger than you. Your every word was honey. He came inside you, on top of you, making you dirty inside and out.

And looking at you like this, ruined for him, Vincent understood that you were no longer the innocent, sweet girl he thought he had met the first time.

#marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #vincent bisset de gramont #vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont x reader #smut

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flawdchaos · 1 month

Text

Opposites Do Attract

Gale ‘Buck’ Cleven x Reader

Word Count - 915

Based off of this request - Can I request a Buck x reader, where the reader is very extroverted, maybe even the opposite of Buck, but they fit so well together. They could be going out for drinks or her meeting the boys or something similar.

Anyone who met Buck Cleven and Y/N Y/L/N at Thorpe Abbotts shared a common thought - they were an unexpected pair. It had become all too common for the newcomers to assume Y/N was with Bucky with her loud, bubbly energy and it almost seemed brash for cool, calm, collected Buck to be with Ken Lemmons loudest female mechanic but damn, did it work. They had met one morning as Y/N was going over some last minute inspections on Buck’s plane for his daily missions.

“How’s she looking, ma’am?” his voice startled her, her head hitting against the plane’s metal.

“Good lord!” she exclaimed. “Give a girl a warning before you sneak up like that.” she complained, rubbing the back of her head. She fully stepped from under the plane's wings and caught a glimpse of the man behind the voice. Her eyes widened once she noticed a Major was standing before her awaiting her response. “Major Cleven” right hand flying to her forehead to salute “Plane is all ready, sir.”

“No need to salute, ma’am. Thank you for taking such good care of her. I put her through hell.” Buck spoke as he opened the plane’s hatch to stow his bag and she couldn’t stop the scoff that left her mouth. “I think that’s an understatement, sir.”

Most of the guys probably wouldn’t have taken this kind of attitude, per se, from a mechanic - let alone a woman- but he couldn’t care less. The sight of her almost made him want to laugh. There she stood, hip jutted out and hand secured atop it, eyes squinting up at him most likely awaiting some sort of angry remark but all he could do was shuffle the toothpick around in his mouth and nod in agreement. “I’ll be waiting to fix her right back up for ya later, Major.”

The couple had been sealed since. When Buck finally caved and spilled the beans about a woman to Bucky, he thought John was going to have a medical emergency right there in the mess hall.

“You have a woman and you just now think to bring it up?” Bucky said, astonished. “I didn’t want you to scare her away.” Buck quipped. If he only knew.

“Well.” Bucky clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. “When am I gonna meet this mysterious young lady?” he urged, squeezing his hands down before an idea crossed his mind “Bring her to the pub tomorrow!”

______

If Buck could have taken a picture of the looks on the boys’ faces when he walked in with Y/N on his arm, he would have framed it and taken it with him on every flight he ventured out on. “Well I’ll be damned, Buck.” Bucky uttered, for once in his life he was almost speechless. Almost.

“I’d suggest you pick your jaw up off the floor, Major. I’d sure hate for you to swallow a bug.” She teased and the entire table erupted in laughter. Buck couldn’t help the small smile that broke out on his own face, a sense of pride soaring through his body. Bucky took a long swig of his drink before retorting. “Seems you’ve got yourself a jokester, Buck.” He nodded. “She’s a little more than that.”

“Wait, ain’t you the girl who works with Lemmons?” Blakely spoke, realization washing over the faces of a few of the men. “Yeah! You’re the girl who fixed my landing gear the other day.” Brady sat up, pointing at the girl standing firm besides Buck.

“You’re welcome by the way.” she waved her hand towards him. “Actually, everyone is welcome. You can thank me for getting you up in the air in the first place. Now I’m getting a drink. Keep the gossip to a minimum while I’m gone, now.” She turned, patting Buck on the chest. “You want something, baby?” looking up at her doe eyed boyfriend. “Just a Coke for me, honey.” She jokingly saluted, walking off towards the bar.

____

Buck had full confidence Y/N would fit in with his crew of men. Whether most of them had realized it before or not, she was the sole reason they were able to make it off the ground in the first place. He couldn’t help but say it almost made his heart swell with pride watching her interact with his friends. “Should I sing?” Bucky’s voice broke through his train of thought, hands tapping against his arm chair. There wasn’t time for him to protest before Y/N jumped up from her place on his lap. “Let’s go, Bucky!” Y/N’s laughed.

He couldn’t explain the feeling that was coursing through his body but as he watched his best friend - more so a brother at this point - and his newfound love sharing a laugh together over the less than perfect singing, he only grew more confident in his relationship. Many would describe Buck Cleven as a many of very little words but if anyone asked about Y/N, his Y/N, he didn’t think there were enough words in the dictionary to explain just how he felt.

Once the song stopped and the singing duo had left the stage, Buck watched as Y/N headed to the bar and Bucky made his way back to him.

“Buck, I gotta say -“ pausing to take a drink of his whisky. “You’ve found yourself a keeper. You two couldn’t be any more opposite but man, does it work.”

#masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #anthony boyle #gale cleven #john egan #masters of the air imagines #robert rosenthal #rosie rosenthal #gale cleven x reader #buck cleven x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader

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sugar-coat-it · 2 months

Note

HEY!! Your smut is insane!! could i request something like matty and reader mutual masturbation telling eachother what to do?? 😋🤘🏻

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP YOU GOT IT BABE

I thought it would be fun if they’re low-key bickering throughout it while still telling each other what to do, but it ends with them just being desperate to watch the other cum, totally forgetting the silly argument

Uhhh yeah this started as a blurb and got pretty long, so, hope you like it anon!

—--------------------------------------------

“Mm- no, you don’t get to touch me, not after what you pulled,” you murmur, pushing Matty back onto the pillows and off of your frame.

Every fiber of you is screaming to just let your pride go and just allow him to keep running his hands over your body, pressing searing kisses to your neck and jawline. You’re well aware that the fires he sets under your skin can only be fully put out by him, but you’re also stubborn… at least for now. Matty just tuts, rolling his eyes at you and gazing off to the side, clearly fuming at the idea of his actions having consequences. Before you’d gotten back home, you’d been out at a pub where he’d been a complete and total prick to a guy at the bar whom he was convinced was trying to sleep with you. Death stares, possessive fingers digging into your waist, the whole ordeal. The whole car ride home had been tense, Matty’s jaw clenched with bitterness as he kept one commanding hand on your leg, his cold rings pressing into the plush skin of your thigh as he drove. His eyes were intensely trained on the road the whole time, deafening silence between you. Although he was being ridiculous, it sure did get you hot and bothered to see him so passionately envious. He obviously felt the same impulse to some degree, because the moment the door shut behind you, he was crushing his lips to yours, licking into your mouth ravenously as he pulled you flush against his body. The two of you had stumbled into the bedroom, messily shedding jackets to the floor as your eager hands roamed.

“Seriously? Are you still on about the wanker from the pub?” he scoffs, unfastening his tie with deft fingers, working quickly until it’s hanging loose around his neck.

“Yeah, I am! You were so rude to him when he was just being nice!” you exclaim, reaching for the zipper on your dress, trying to relieve some of the heat simmering beneath the fabric.

“That’s a ridiculous thing to say. He told you you were… fucking, what did he say? “mothering, cunt slaying”?”

“He was gay, you asshole!” you snort, your dress now a heap on the floor along with Matty’s button-down shirt.

“How was I supposed to know that? I don’t even have a clue as to what that fuckin’ means!” “Matthew, you’re so out of touch.”

His lip twitches with annoyance, but that doesn’t stop him from staring right at your tits, his hand tensing with the urge to reach out and greedily touch and grab what he believes is rightfully his. Just as hypocritical, you feel heat surge deep inside you as you glance down at the thick protrusion in his dark slacks, drinking in the sight of him leaning back against the pillows with his inked chest bared to you for your viewing pleasure. You’re both at an impasse, too proud to “lose” by reaching out for the other, which leaves only one option to relieve yourselves of your frustrations.

“Well if I apparently can’t touch you, I’m not gonna sit here like an idiot with a hard-on,” he murmurs, cocking his head at you with a hint of sass.

“What, are you gonna go have a wank in the bathroom, then?” you gape with disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Nope. Why should I? It’s my bed too,” he replies simply, reaching for his belt and undoing it, watching as you start practically salivating at the way his hands flex around the buckle.

The belt lands on the floor with a clank, but instead of taking off his trousers, he slides his hand down his chest slowly, sensually, taking his time as if you’re not even there. He trails his fingers down his stomach, his pace is entirely unhurried as he reaches for the crotch of his pants. Matty feels over his erection with the palm of his hand first, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head back against the pillow, gritting his teeth at the way he’s teasing himself. You can’t help the way you softly gasp when he suddenly grabs himself through the fabric, keeping a firm hold on his cock with a grunt, the veins in his hand bulging salaciously. Matty loosens his grip now, tracing the outline of his erection with two fingers, lingering on the tip just enough to make his hips jump forward with need. He has one hand casually behind his head while the other skillfully undoes the button and zipper of his pants, and only now does he crack one eye open just enough to watch the way you’re squirming, your face burning at the shameless display he’s putting on for you. You straighten up when you feel him looking at you, your face screwing up into a frustrated pout, not wanting him to know how whipped he’s got you. He just chuckles lowly, mirth crinkling at the corners of his eyes while he’s lifting his hips to pull his pants down, knowing all too well what he’s doing to you from the way your thighs clench.

Indignance strikes in you like lightning as you realize that he shouldn’t be the only one enjoying himself. He’s the one who was being an ass tonight after all; you should be making him remember the power you undeniably hold over him too. You begin to mirror him, letting out an exaggerated sigh as you slide your hands up your sides and grope your breasts through the cups of your bra, staring back at him with lustfully lidded eyes. He couldn’t be more pleased, a sleazy smirk tugging at his lips as he stares right back, testing your restraint further and further as the room gets hotter.

“Mhm, that’s it, keep touching your tits love, you’re great wank material,” Matty winks, his hand now snaking under the elastic band of his briefs as he starts stroking himself with a sigh.

You huff, sending him an annoyed look at him treating you like his personal porno, but you’re even more frustrated that his hand is hidden beneath the cover of his underwear. You can only see the outline of his cock as beads of precum soak into the dark fabric, his wrist languidly moving up and down his shaft as his hips shift back and forth slightly.

“What is it? You wanna see?” he coos before letting out a deep moan just to really put the nail in the coffin.

You’d like to call him arrogant, a prick maybe, especially because of the boastful, pride-ridden look on his face as he lazily jerks himself off. But instead what comes out is:

“Yeah…”

It’s against your better judgment, but you can’t say you really regret a thing when he pushes the elastic past his weeping erection, letting you get a full view of the way he’s slowly circling his thumb around the tip of his cock as he just smiles that stupid, charming smile. It’s enough motivation to eradicate your inhibitions as you spread your legs out atop the sheets, hooking your finger into your ruined panties and sliding them to the side. Matty is starting to lose his cool now, his movements getting a little quicker, his eyes widening just a bit as you keep one hand cupping your breast while the other ventures between your thighs. He lets out a choked groan at the sight of you taking your fingers and spreading yourself open for him to watch, collecting the honey that’s gathered at your sopping hole and dragging it up to your clit. You moan breathily, biting your lip as you begin circling two fingers around the swollen bundle of nerves, the slight sense of relief making your head swim.

“You can go faster than that, can’t you?” you tempt, having had enough of his little lax pleasure session.

Matty’s lips press into a thin line as you attempt to order him around, muttering something under his breath. Yet, he still obliges, his hand moving a little swifter as he drags his fist up all the way from the base to the head, twisting his wrist the way you usually do it. A prideful smile twitches at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it while you’re drawing tight circles around your clit the way Matty knows you like it. However, nothing could ever compare to the way his calloused fingers rub at you until you’re seeing stars, not even your own hand.

“Want you to take your bra off,” Matty commands in return, his breathing getting heavier as his chest heaves, he’s trying not to buck up into his hand and appear too eager.

You move as quickly as possible, not wanting to be left aching for too long as you move to unclasp your bra, needing both hands. The moment your bra is sliding down your shoulders, your hand slithers back between your legs, rubbing little figure eights on your clit to make your toes curl and your head tilt back, your hair spilling down your shoulders.

“You could have been the one touching my tits if you hadn’t been so mean,” you pout spitefully, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts with your free hand.

“Do you even know how to make yourself cum anymore? I’ve spoiled you too much haven’t I?” Matty snaps back, completely ignoring your little comment despite how badly he’d love to lick and suck at your perfect breasts right now.

He’s fisting his cock a little harder as he watches you pleasure yourself, knowing damn well he would be doing a better job, which only makes him further ticked off. You gasp as you pinch your nipple between two fingers the way he does, sending a harsh pang of need straight to your core. Meanwhile, Matty makes a frustrated grunting noise as he tries to recreate the way your lovely hands slicked with his precum would grasp and pump him time and time again. The both of you are ironically unable to get off unless you mimic the way the other’s hands work.

“Have you ever heard that jealousy is a disease?” you mention sarcastically between little gasps for breath, your cunt fluttering around nothing.

“That’s nice, princess. Two fingers inside, now.”

Wordlessly, you follow his instructions, whimpering as you coat your fingers with your arousal before sinking them inside your needy hole. Matty’s eyes are trained on the space between your thighs, his jaw going slack as he watches your digits disappear inside you and then reappear even more drenched. His strokes are getting jerkier, he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to resist delving between your legs and taking care of you himself. His chocolatey curls bounce with his movements, a thin sheen of sweat glistening across his chest and his forehead.

“Don’t like being punished for wanting to keep what’s mine, y’know. Stick your tongue out,” he grunts, giving himself a particularly hard squeeze.

“So possessive,” you purr, obliging his little fantasy because you know exactly what he wants to see.

A cheeky glint in your eyes, you let your tongue slip past your lips as you pant, relishing in the way Matty’s cock twitches sharply in his fist as he stares at you, unable to help the way he whines when a drop of saliva drips from your pliant tongue onto your tits. You know how absolutely depraved you must look, fingering yourself while moaning with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. The things you do for love (and good sex).

“Shit, that’s a lovely view, ain’t it? S’better when you’re not talking too. C’mon, don’t slow down,” he prattles, his voice smooth and dark like tinted glass.

“Only if you fuck your fist for me properly,” you interject, feeling just as worthy of making sensual demands.

Matty scoffs like he’s above doing something so vulgar, but the moment he sees that you’re in fact slowing your movements down, he’s snapping his hips up into his fist, groaning far too loudly as he clenches his hand around his shaft. Sufficiently pleased, you go back to sticking your tongue out like his obedient little sweetheart while you continue to pump your fingers in and out of yourself. Matty’s eyes roll back with fluttering lashes as he thrusts upwards over and over, his abs tensing with the effort of keeping up his relentless pace. You feel yourself shudder the moment the whites of his eyes disappear and he’s gazing at you again, the eye contact makes warmth rush over your skin in a familiar, pleasant wave. God, the obscene symphony of sounds from your separate pleasure sessions would be enough to make anyone blush. You’re both starting to forget why you’re playing this little game in the first place, heads hazy with raw desire.

“Getting close…” you murmur, the challenging tone of your voice fading into a softer sort of desire, like you can’t help but appreciate the absolute treat of your gorgeous boyfriend before you.

Matty’s gaze softens in return, his eyebrows sloping with a pining sort of look instead of being furrowed with intensity, his curls are sticking to his forehead, damp with his sweat. His breaths are coming in short gasps, moans freely spilling from his lips as his eyes wildly flick from your longing expression to your breasts, to your diligent fingers. Every little sound you make only encourages him to go harder, to fuck faster, the bed creaking louder as the headboard repeatedly meets the wall behind it.

“Ohh, I know, I know, me too. Shit, you’re so good, love. So perfect for me with that pretty pink cunt of yours spread open, fuck,” he rambles, his words tapering off into a whimper.

His filthy words have your cheeks burning, heat prickling at them as you sigh out, your hips rocking into your own hand as you feel the tension gathering deep inside. It feels like it’s all getting ready to snap at any moment, and Matty can see it plastered all over your face. He knows you well enough to know the way your eyes widen when you’re going to climax, he’d made it his personal mission to learn all your tells. The whole pub incident might as well have never happened with how intent you both are to watch the other fall to pieces, eagerly relying on the other’s pleasure to get off.

“Please, please, Matty, wanna cum with you,” you whisper, your voice quivering much like your legs.

“Shit, yeah? Go ahead love, gonna watch you make a mess, okay? I’m right here,” he breathes, restraining himself to only look into your eyes as you start to lose yourself.

You’re falling weightlessly beyond the edges of pleasure, but you force yourself to stay upright enough to gaze back at Matty while your orgasm begins to crash over you in waves, your walls clenching and fluttering around your fingers while your lips part with a silent cry. Matty’s not far behind you, especially not with the scene before him of his perfect girl falling apart just for him. Hot spurts of cum cascade over his fist and his stomach, adorning his tattooed skin with pearly ropes as he moans garbled praises of your name.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck,” he groans, his hips pistoning up into his closed fist with sloppy, blissed-out thrusts, not once breaking the shiver-inducing eye contact.

Your chest is still heaving, you’ve barely even started coming down from your high before you’re lunging for Matty, and he’s reaching out just as fast, his hands finding your waist like they’ve made their home there. You let your full body weight lean into him as you kiss him longingly like it’s been years since you’ve felt their touch. Neither of you seems to mind the way his cum is spreading all over your stomach and your tits between your flushed bodies, you’re too busy clutching at each other and locking lips like overzealous teen lovers.

“Didn’t feel as good as when you do it, Matty,” you croon against his mouth, your hands adoringly sliding into his hair.

“I know, sweetheart,” he pants, his thumbs tenderly rubbing little circles against your hip bones, “please, can I give you proper treatment now? Wanna make up for it, I was bein’ an arse, m’sorry.”

You just nod, looking up at him like he’d hung each individual star in your own personal sky as his warm breath fans over your lips. The glint in Matty’s eyes at your agreement tells you that he’s going to be spending quite some time worshipping you tonight, lovingly taking you apart with his hands until you’ve had enough. All is well in the world.

#TEEHEE #this was a fun one #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fic #anon asks #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfiction

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monzaaasharl · 3 months

Text

Who Do You Think You Are?

Pairings:: F1 drivers x Female driver! Reader, Christian Horner x Daughter! Reader, Geri Halliwell x Daughter! Reader

Summary:: Y/n Horner is officially announced as a 2024 f1 driver

Author note:: This is set during July 2023 just so the time frame makes sense

Masterlist

Here it was.

This is all she had ever worked for. And now she had it. Becoming a Formula One driver was all she ever dreamed of, and now that it became true she didn't know how to act.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, hell, everyone around her knew that. Especially her parents, Redbull Racing Team Principal Christian Horner and 90s Popstar Geri Halliwell. They knew better than anyone that Y/n becoming an F1 driver would spark controversy, but that's exactly why they didn't hold her back.

Y/n's parents wanted her to have everything she ever wanted. And if helping her with her journey into motorsports was what she wanted, they would do anything in their power to make it easier for her.

Contrary to popular belief her father wasn't as involved with her career as many people thought. I mean of course he gave her advice that the other drivers in F4, F3 and F2 wouldn't get, but they would just have to find it out for themselves. The main part Christian played in her motorsports career was being the person to introduce it to her, and get her her first ever go-kart.

They always tried to keep their father-daughter relationship away from the world of motorsport, because as Christian knew, and y/n would later find out, the media can destroy relationships with information that isn't even true.

Y/n practically grew up at the race track. She was always begging her mother to let her go karting after school and Geri almost always let her with the conditions that she had to do all her homework, and if it wasn't done she couldn't go until it was.

It was almost inevitable that Y/n became a driver, she was meeting new drivers every time she came to a race with her parents. And they could all tell that the way she spoke about karting and her dreams, she was going to go far.

The moment Y/n got off the phone with the Team Principal from Porsche she sprinted down the stairs of her childhood home, as she was staying with her parents at the time, and ran to find her parents.

"Spider in your room or something?" Her father teased, knowing her fear of spiders.

"Much better than that" Trying to hide the smile on her face, however it was growing bigger by the second.

"Go on then, what's happened?" Her mother asked her, confused by her behaviour.

"I'M GONNA BE A FORMULA ONE DRIVER FOR PORSCHE NEXT YEAR" She exclaimed at insane volume.

"Oh my goodness, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you" There were tears forming in Geri's eyes as she spoke. "Come here", she widened her arm's for Y/n.

"That's definitely not what I thought you were about to say", Christian joked, and joined in the group hug.

They all took a few moments to comprehend what was going on. As soon as they let go from their hug Christian spoke up.

"I'm sure you'll be good competition"

"I hope so", Y/n joked. "I'm so excited" She squealed, "but I'm also terrified"

Geri laughed at her statement, Y/n always had conflicting emotions. "I'm sure you'll be brilliant, my love" She reassured her daughter, "Who's your teammate going to be?"

"Mick Schumacher" She replied, "I mean, he's been in F1 before, what if he's much better than I am?"

"Nonsense", Christian answered, "They wouldn't have signed you if they didn't think you would good enough." He tried to soothe her worries, it always upset him when she would second guess herself, she was his baby girl, and he wanted whatever was best for her. "You're going to be fantastic, and I know that"

Y/n hugged her father tightly, she knew her parents would always be her biggest fans. "Thank you, Dad"

"So, how long have you been keeping your signing a secret?" He pondered.

"Since September last year...", She quietly admitted.

"That long?"

"Well, it wasn't certain until about 15 minutes ago" She admitted, "They want me to go sign the papers next week"

"My little girl is all grown up", Geri spoke up.

Herself and her father laughed and rolled their eyes.

After a few conversations, and a few more tears, mostly from Geri's eyes, but Y/n could've sworn she saw Christian's eyes become glossy at one point, Y/n went to her bedroom and decided to pack her suitcase, to go back to her own home and then to Germany to officially sign her contract.

It was now 6th July 2023 and Y/n was about to sign her contract.

"Are you ready, Miss?"

"I suppose so"

She didn't even have enough time to take in all her surroundings, the pen was in and out of her hand in seconds.

"You are officially a Formula One driver for Porsche now, congratulations" The team principal of the team said whilst they shared a handshake after her signing.

This was it.

It was now official.

This is Y/n Horner, and this was her story.

...Introducing Speedy Spice...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist::

@treehouse-mouse @champomiel @honkyscats

Please let me know if you would like to be added or taken off of the taglist by my comments, messages or asks.

Feel free to send requests.

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harrysmmm · 9 months

Note

hello, love! i originally put this in the comments but it might get lost in your notifications. anyway, if you are up for it, do you mind writing a second part for magically annoying? i need jealous draco 😩 anyway, if you do it may you please tag me in the comments or something so i am brought back and dont forget? thanks so much! dont feel pressured to write it 🩷🫶🏻

have a wonderful and lovely day/night <3

thank you love for the inbox! hope you like it !!! ♡

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball. (part two)

part 1

W/C: 2.4K

Taglist: @mrsmikaelsxn @Iail1010

masterlist here

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Mixed feelings. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. A long velvet dress was framing your body, embellishing every edge, every curve of it. Your shoulders were naked, leaving your collarbones with no room for imagination. You paired up the dress with cream high-heels that matched your hand purse.

“I swear this pin on my hair won’t stay put,” Hermione said from the other side of the room.

“I can’t believe you don’t have a spell for that, Hermione,” you teased a little bit.

“There’s no reason for a spell for hair, Y/N.” She approached your mirror and stood next to you. “Besides, I’ve tried to cast one and it’s not possible.”

“Are you guys talking about hair spells?” Luna Lovegood was standing at the doorframe of your dormitory. How the hell did she get in the Gryffindor common room? “I know a bunch of them. I made these two-side ponytails with one of them.”

“Well… you shouldn’t be here Luna!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Cool it off,” you advised here.

“I mean, this is the Gryffindor area. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neville let me in. I’m going with him to the ball. Apparently, Ginny ditched on him. How curious, I thought she was after him, but guess she’s not.”

“Well, you look stunning, Luna,” you added. She did look pretty, in her own way. She was wearing an aluminium dress, or that’s what it looked like, coupled with hanging balls of cotton on the edges. Her face was decorated with shiny, glittery makeup.

“Thank you, Y/N. Your dress is really pretty, it highlights your body. I’m sure Harry is going to think the same.”

The name had been dropped. Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. That was your date to the ball. After the incident with Malfoy, Harry was by far your safest bet. And besides, he did ask you first.

You had spent those past few weeks thinking how, when the moment would come, you wouldn’t think about the incident with Malfoy.

How you would not think about his eyes staring into yours with your wand up.

You would not think about him getting closer with a smirk on his face.

Not think about his eyes going up and down your body.

Think about his hand making contact with your waist.

His lips painfully slow when brushing yours.

His lips.

Draco Malfoy.

It was going to go downhill.

It was tradition that boys would get to the entrance first. They would all be waiting for their ladies to go down the stairs, greet them with a soft kiss on their hand, and show them to the Great Hall.

Hermione and Luna had already left - you were still passing your fingers through your hair in an attempt of putting it together. Although your hair was already in its place, you needed an outlet to where to put your twisting feelings on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again.

Why bloody Malfoy? Why him?

While you were trying to find an answer to the rhetorical question a silly smile got in your face.

No. No. No.

You were giggling like a twelve-year-old with a crush on another twelve-year-old. Pathetic.

Besides, the thought of him didn’t deserve any of your time. The butthead hadn’t even looked at you since the incident. In fact, his little pranks had become even more annoying, even more personal, if that could ever happen. He had faked a letter from Professor Snape that had put on your desk in Charms class. The letter described as followed:

“Miss Y/L/N, Your scores on the test about deadly potion mixing have been the lowest I have ever seen in all my teaching years in this school. I’m afraid you will be suspended in advance and hope to pass next semester. I won’t tolerate a Gryffindor mocking my course, nor my teaching methods. I must take 30 points off Gryffindor. Yours sincerely, Professor Snape P.S. the same applies to Potter. Also the points.”

You teared up that day. And if it wasn’t enough, when you went to see Snape and found out it was fake, he took ten points off Gryffindor for being so naive and believing it was true. He also took ten points off on Harry, for being, once again, mingled in the sauce.

And putting everything aside, you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend you weren’t going to look for his face that night. You couldn’t pretend you were not going to wonder about what would’ve happened if you had said yes to him. How you would slow dance together; how everyone would think you were the most unthinkable couple, but that deep down you were killing the game.

You brushed all of those feeling off, looking at yourself in the mirror forcing it to be the last time. You turned around and headed to the stairs before the ball began.

Harry was patiently waiting for you. He had been looking on and off to the stairs since girls started to come down. He was really nervous about the whole situation and for the first time, it didn’t have to do with him being the centre of attention as one of the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. He was nervous because of you. He had been wanting to ask you out since the beginning of the course, but never had the guts to do it, knowing that a friendship was at stake. The moment you said yes to him after dinner, his belly exploded in thousands of butterflies, and he promised himself that he would try to act as a gentleman for you that night. Because you were the most lovable person he had ever met.

Suddenly, you made the entrance on the stairs. His gaze immediately went to you - how your hair fell perfectly from your shoulders; how the tale of the dress would follow your steps when you went down; how your eyes would magically swing between the stair steps and him. He was taken by the view. Once you had come down, he greeted you with his arm.

“Hey.”

He wanted to say how good you looked. He wanted to, but something blocked his throat, and he was almost unable to speak.

“Hum… you… hum… shall we?”

You got the hint. “We shall.”

You two got in the line of the champions, who as tradition, entered the ball first and opened it with the first dance. While McGonagall was counting you to make sure everyone was at their place, you scanned the room looking for a certain bleached one.

There you found him.

He had his arms crossed with Pansy Parkinson’s. He was gracefully talking to a Durmstrang student as if it was a sort of haute-classe yearly networking party. You hated how he seemed so unbothered, so natural. He looked naturally happy. You hated it because all you could do was fake.

You decided you were going to give him a little bit of a show.

The trumpets started echoing and everyone stood in both sides of the Great Hall, except the champions and their partners who were waiting for the sign to walk up to the dance floor. When McGonagall gave the green flag, the line started to move, every couple having their arms crossed with one another. You decided to hold Harry’s hand. He looked surprised at you but didn’t move his. You were walking down the aisle, most people noticing the subtlety of your tangled hands. You peripherally looked at Draco, and noticed he had a blank expression on his face when you passed next to him. Was that jealousy? Indifference? Oblivion? You couldn’t keep thinking of interpretations when Harry’s hand got to your waist, beginning just like that the first dance of the ball. You gracefully moved with him, having internalized the compass weeks prior. You swung from one side to the other for exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds when you stopped the dance, and everyone clapped. Harry’s eyes were mesmerized on yours, seeming oblivious to what was happening on the outside.

“Y/N, I-” He started a sentence, but he rapidly stopped talking, getting closer and closer as seconds went by.

Was he going to…? You couldn’t succumb to that happening.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And just like that, you left the dance floor in everyone’s eyes.

You got in one of the cubicles of the restroom. You locked the door behind you and melted on the floor. You were so conflicted… why all of a sudden did Harry have so much interest in you? And why did Malfoy tell you all those things a month ago and didn’t even lock his eyes with yours since?

“Y/N?”

It was Hermione’s voice.

“Yeah, here,” you replied, getting up.

“You okay?,” she said.

“Yeah, just a sec.”

You flushed to pretend and got out of the toilet.

“You don’t look okay.” Hermione knew you all too well.

“Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Did the people overwhelm you or did Harry do it?”

You waited a few seconds to reply. “Both.”

“About the people, the hardest part already ended, we already opened the ball. About Harry, you should hint him that you don’t feel the same.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“It’s inevitable. Sooner rather than later.”

She didn’t know about Draco. You hadn’t told a soul about what happened. Mostly because you didn’t understand it yourself, but also because keeping it a secret made it more exciting – it was like your chocolate sweet before bedtime. You wanted it all to yourself.

You went over to the sink and started washing your hands.

“And you with Viktor? Have you two talked a bit?”

“Well, he doesn’t really talk. In fact, he doesn’t talk at all.”

“Stunning,” you replied.

She grinned back at you.

You both exited the bathroom and went to both your respective dates. You saw Harry sitting down on one of the tables, talking to Ron. You joined them.

“Hey, sorry for earlier.”

“Hey. No, it’s fine. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries.”

“You wanna dance, maybe?”

“Sure.”

He gave you his hand and showed you to the dancefloor. A lively rock song was being played and both of you started moving to the rhythm, having fun more than dancing. That was until you looked at your left and saw that someone couldn’t stop staring at you. You and Draco locked eyes with each other while he was also dancing with Pansy.

He put his hand on her waist.

You placed your arms around Harry’s neck.

He pulled Pansy closer to him.

You slowly got closer to Harry’s face.

That was until Harry cut the scene.

“You wanna go for drinks?”

You were surprised. Wasn’t he into you? Why was he not adhering to what was happening, even if you weren’t technically doing it to him?

“Okay,” you replied.

You both exited the dancefloor and headed to the drinks counter. He served you some punch.

“Y/N, I-”

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall blurted, “you must come with the other champions for the ceremonial speech.”

“The ceremonial wha-”

“Come, come. There’s no time,”

He looked at you one last time before being swollen by McGonagall’s anxiety. You looked at him leaving until someone disturbed your moment.

“No more boyfriend, Y/L/N?” Draco’s voice made an alarm in your heart go on.

You looked right at him. “I could ask the same thing.”

He smirked at you.

“What are you drinking?”

“Why do you care?”

“Woo-hoo, you were swollen by a dementor or what?”

“So funny, aren’t you?”

“So pissy. It’s because Potter left you?”

“You know, you sound like a kindergarten.” You stopped looking at him and drank more of the punch.

“Now that your boyfriend left, what you doing tonight?”

“What do you mean? We’re in a ball.”

“I stick to my question.”

You sighed. “I will stay at the ball until I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep.”

“Pity, I thought you might wanna get your wand back. Taking into consideration that tomorrow we still have class.”

You looked back at him, astonished. “My wand? Did you take my wand?”

“Who said I did? I’m just making a point here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

“Draco, where is my wand?”

“Funny you ask because, it will only appear if you really need it.”

You got the hint. You looked one last time at Draco and rolled your eyes. You exited the ball with fast steps and headed to the seventh floor, left corridor, where the Room Of Requirements could be found. You closed your eyes and focused on your wand. Suddenly, where there was before a wall a door appeared. You got in.

The room was full of antic objects. You started by looking at the floor to see if Draco had thrown it, but you couldn’t see it. It was going to be impossible will all the number of objects.

“Looking for this?”

Draco’s voice echoed in the room. You turned around and there he was with your wand in hand.

“Draco, I’m done with your silly games. Give it back.”

“Come take it.” He kept it in one of his pants’ pockets.

“Draco,” you sighed, still you stood in front of him

You put one of your hands in his pocket to grab the wand and he immediately got closer to you. So close your lips were almost brushing each other.

“Hi,” he said.

You didn’t reply and with the willpower you have left, you tried to grab the wand. He got even closer, his crotch making contact with you. He had a boner.

You paralyzed and eventually, looked up at his eyes.

He was staring at you with no smile this time. He looked desperate and lustful. He pulled your head towards his, and his lips made their way to yours.

He started kissing you softly, only both of your lips playing with one another. Then he started introducing his tongue and biting your lower lip so hard it made you moan. You grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you. He moved one of his hands to your ass and squeezed it a few times. He let out a moan.

“The Room of Requirements,” you started saying between kisses, “only opens when you need it.” He tried to shut you up with his mouth but you continued. “How did you get in?”

��Isn’t it obvious?” he asked you, ending the kiss and staring into your eyes. “I needed you.”

Enamoured. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

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somewhere-in-wales · 2 months

Text

What if, in this moment, Aziraphale & Crowley found themselves unexpectedly transported to our world?

And then met these two idiots?

And they all had to work together to get Aziraphale & Crowley back?

I wrote a fic about it (When Worlds Collide). Here are some nice things people wrote underneath its chapters:

"I can't tell you how much I'm in love with this fic. Like I want to marry it, right now! The amounts of times I literally shrieked with laughter reading this. I had to stop to wipe my eyes, I am dying"

"In love w this actually. the SHENANIGANS!!!! this was a joy to read"

"this fic is eating me alive. an immediate cult classic. if i had your permission and any ability to execute this at all, i would bind this fic in leather and carry it with me all my days like a spiritual nomad with their dearest tome. You Are Taking Me There."

"JFJDJDJDJFJFKDUSHCMCKCD I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD"

"Oh, Chapter 4 is my favorite so far. And that's saying a lot, because every time I read a new one I think 'there's no way this can be topped...it's too good, too funny, too fresh a take on these characters"

You can find it on AO3 here When World's Collide, there's an exert below, and if you're feeling generous enough to do a little signal boost re-blog, I will love you forever.

"Terribly sorry, but I wonder if I might help settle this business about whether we are who we say we are?"

Michael and David exchange glances.

"I doubt it" says Michael, reaching around the door frame for his water bottle whilst stepping out of the bathroom to take a swig. Aziraphale sweeps his hand in an arc as Michael puts the bottle to his lips, glugging. He immediately coughs and spits red wine forcefully across the room.

“Holy shit!” Exclaims David, jumping backwards to avoid being splashed.

"What the Hell was that for?" Michael splutters angrily, wiping his mouth, eyes moving between Aziraphale and Crowley

"Did you swap that out when I was filming?" he asks, irritably, looking around at the mess. "You've completely ruined the costume."

"I do hate to see it ruined," Aziraphale worries, glancing at Crowley who mock pouts. "No harm done to the furnishings at least" he says, as the stains miraculously disappear. He turns to Crowley again, appealing.

"Yes, fine" responds the Demon, getting up dramatically. He eyes Michael, who's still agitated, and feels like someone is looking into his soul. The gaze of an actual Demon, not just his acting partner, is enough to stifle any remaining irritation. With his eyes fixed on Michael, Crowley lifts his hand to click his fingers, and removes the stains from the actor's costume completely. Michael looks wordlessly at where the stain was, and raises his gaze appealingly to David.

"It's not... they can't... this is ...." he tails off, walking over to the table and sitting down.

Crowley sweeps his eyes over David's features "he's Aziraphale?" he asks, a depth of skepticism to his tone, "this guy?"

"Yes", says David "he's lovely really" Aziraphale side-eyes David before flitting his gaze to Crowley.

"And you're me?" Crowley asks slowly, with equal depth.

"Y...yes" says David with rather less confidence. Even underneath the dark glasses, he can tell the Demon is searching his eyes. "I might just take the contacts out" he says, to no one in particular, and ducks back into the bathroom.

"They'll need our costumes back. Where are you two going to sleep tonight?" Michael asks.

"Oh I don't sleep" Aziraphale shakes his head as though he's been offered an unappealing appetiser.

"I do"

"We'll get you a hotel room" says Michael. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances and Michael resists the urge to settle their discomfort by saying they'll get two. This situation is ridiculous, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to have a little fun with it.

"Thank you" Aziraphale offers, politely.

The door to the bathroom opens and David comes out, eyes back to normal. Crowley looks him over, flicking his eyes to Aziraphale, gauging the Angel's reaction. Aziraphale stares at David's face, breathing slowly, mind retracing memories long gone, but never forgotten.

"We better go then" Crowley huffs.

"Not dressed like that" David gestures to Aziraphale, who looks down at his clothes fondly, smoothing down his jacket.

"I have standards, you know?" He says.

"He's not wrong" Crowley agrees.

Michael, who had been watching Aziraphale's reactions thoughtfully, taking mental notes, speaks up "if we go in pairs and break up leaving, it's possible that no one will notice two David and Michael's leaving."

David looks uncertain.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Michael asks, "One, single, better idea?" Crowley and Aziraphale both flick their heads to look at Michael in recognition.

"No, let's do that" David relents. "I'm going to change." He steps back into the bathroom.

"Me too" says Michael, heading for the door "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

A few minutes later, Michael returns in the outfit he arrived in that day, to the general disdain of Aziraphale.

"Do you still think we should come to an arrangement?" Asks Crowley, smiling at this turn of events.

"I can't wear that" Aziraphale gestures to Michael's clothes, completely failing to hide his disgust at the suggestion he should wear such an outfit.

"What's wrong with this?" Michael asks. He's wearing jeans and a shirt, nothing worthy of such disdain. His question is ignored.

"You have to, Angel" Crowley teases, just as the bathroom door opens and David enters in a bright purple jumper. Crowley looks at him, then back at Aziraphale, a panicked expression briefly flicks across his features. The Angel raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips in a look that communicates 'your move'.

"Oh Hell no, that's not happening" the Demon states. Clicking his fingers, he changes Michael and Aziraphale into sharp suits, David and himself into slightly-less-tight-than-usual black jeans and a slim black shirt. "Take it or leave it" he says, glancing briefly at Aziraphale, who's eyes soften, and lips form a slight smile in thanks whilst he smooths down the well-fitting suit.

"Yes, much better" The Angel sighs.

"For you, maybe, I'd never turn up to work in this" Michael fiddles uncomfortably with the collar.

"You should dear, you look ...nice" Aziraphale says, moving over to Michael to smooth his collar. Michael frowns at the Angel, noting the back-handed compliment.

"The hotel's not far," says David. "I'll call for a car. I'll take Aziraphale." Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances in silent resignation. "We should wait at least 10 minutes before you call for yours" he raises his eyebrows, a quick glance at Crowley. He reckons he has the easier job.

"So, I'll be pretending to be..." Aziraphale gestures to Michael.

"Michael" Michael looks unconvinced by this.

"Yes, I know, I just wondered if there's anything I should know about you?"

"Probably best if you just don't talk" Michael glances between Aziraphale and Crowley. But Aziraphale looks very uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"He's an actor" David tries to offer something that will help.

"Yes" Aziraphale responds in a tone that shows his patience is wearing thin.

"He lives in Wales" David tries again.

"Oh," Aziraphale smiles, a look of relief forming on his features "Oh lovely, I do love the Welsh Coast" he beams, looking at each of the other trailer occupants. "Yes, yes I think I can handle this" he nods, confidently, adjusting his cuffs.

David smiles back, broadly.

Michael and Crowley are less confident, their eyes meet with a knowing expression of concern.

Continued here

#good omens #staged #ineffable husbands #michael sheen and david tennant #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #my fic #good omens fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #david tennant

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Simply Irresistible

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 2,446

Summary: Joel takes you on the best first day you’ve ever been on

Author’s Note: More Biker!Joel because I love him so! This is connected to my first Biker!Joel story The Road to Love but they can be read separately. Thank you so much for the love this AU is getting, I’m really enjoying it! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: lots of soft and sweet fluff, flirting, tension, f-ing-er-ing, little th-ig-h ri-d-ing, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself

The edit below is NOT MINE: my amazing friend Ellie @mrsmischief209 made it for me at the drop of a hat and I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Thank you forever my sweet! 💕

Joel Miller Masterlist

“He texted you again, didn’t he?” Jade asks as she peeks over your shoulder.

“Of course it’s him,” Dan adds. “Look at that smile.”

You finish replying to Joel and then stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans.

“You two are insufferable!”

Your tone is playful and you’re still grinning.

“You LOVE us,” Dan chimes.

“You do,” Jade agrees. “Now tell us what he said.”

“I do love you both,” you assure them. “And he was just asking what I was wearing for our date…”

“REALLY?!” Dan screeches. “WHY?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” you reply. “I just told him I was planning to wear a dress.”

“You didn’t ask why!?!” Dan nearly shouts.

“Maybe he wanted to make sure you’re dressed properly for the restaurant…maybe it’s a fancy and romantic place!” Jade says with a wistful sigh.

You look between your two friends and roll your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I’ll find out!” you say as you wiggle past them to help a customer.

“I can hardly wait until Saturday,” Dan whispers to Jade as he follows after you. “I bet they don’t even make it to dinner.”

Jade and Dan share a mischievous giggle and you shoot them a glare, smirking when you see Dan waggling his eyebrows at you.

~Saturday night~

“Text me and Dan if you need anything,” Jade speaks into the phone.

Dan grabs it from her hand.

“YES! Text us everything,” Dan says enthusiastically. “All the juicy details…I want to know every last one!”

You hear some scuffling and hear Jade mutter a curse at Dan before she’s back and says, “sorry babes, Dan is very excited.”

“I am too,” you smile as you stand in front of your mirror and check yourself one last time.

Just then you hear the rumble of an engine and your stomach fills with butterflies.

“He’s here!” you whisper shout into the phone. “Gotta go!”

“HAVE FUN!” both Dan and Jade shout simultaneously.

With a laugh you hang up and head for your front door.

The doorbell rings and you let out the breath you’ve been holding in before opening the door.

Joel’s leaning against the frame, relaxed in his signature dark jeans that fit just right and a vest that shows off his sculpted arms and tattoos.

Your gaze lingers on his handsome face before you take in the rest of him, you fingers twinkling hello with a small wave.

“Hey sunshine,” he murmurs as his eyes sweep over your body appreciatively.

Even though he does nothing to hide the fact that he’s checking you out it doesn’t come off as creepy, it only makes you feel desired and beautiful.

“You look…” and he runs a hand through his hair, tousling it so his curls are more pronounced, “amazin’.”

“Thanks,” you answer sweetly as you take a step closer.

He lifts his hand and holds up a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“These are for you,” he says quietly.

“Oh Joel! They’re beautiful!” you exclaim, taking them and holding them up to your nose. “I love them! Thank you.”

He looks pleased and gives you a sideways smile. You place your palm on his chest and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on his skin before you pull away, your eyelashes still fluttering against your cheek.

When you meet his eyes they wander over your features before settling on your lips.

“You’re welcome sunshine.”

“I just want to put them in water before we go. Come in for a minute.”

You leave the door open and rush off to the kitchen, grabbing a small vase and filling it with water. Joel remains by the door and openly inspects what he can see of your house.

“I like it,” he says when you’re finished and walking back to him. “It’s warm and soft and inviting…fits you.”

“Thanks. It’s home.”

You meet him by the door but he doesn’t move out of the way.

You nibble your bottom lip and look at him through your lashes.

“Ready?” you ask.

He lifts his hand to your mouth and presses the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, gently pulling it free from your teeth. Then he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs your mouth to his.

Your hands instinctively curl into his vest and you press yourself against him. His fingers graze your jaw before ghosting down your neck and curling around the back of it to bring you impossibly closer, his lips finding yours again quickly.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, kissing you several more times before announcing, “now I’m ready. Just had to give you a proper hello darlin’.”

You nod, unable to speak and still clinging to him.

His hand slides lower and wraps around your waist, tucking you into his side as he leads you out the door.

“Where’s your bike?” you ask without thinking.

“Disappointed sunshine?” he asks with a knowing smirk.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly and you give him a sheepish look.

“No! Not at all. I just figured…”

His fingers press under your chin and he lifts your eyes, ghosting his lips across yours as he whispers, “don’t worry, I promised I’d take you for a ride any time you want and I meant it. I just can’t have you riding around on my bike in that dress darlin’. It’s not the safest.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Is that why you asked me what I was going to wear?”

He nods with a wink and brings you around to the passenger side door of his pickup then opens it for you.

“I would have changed,” you tell him with a smile.

His intense gaze travels from your head to your toes and when he reaches your eyes again they blaze with heat.

“No,” is all he says before he takes your hand and helps you up.

Once you’re seated he leans forward and grabs the seatbelt, laying it across your body then buckling it. The action is thoughtful and sweet but every time his hands brush along your skin it fills you with anticipation, the need to have him touch you overwhelming.

As if he senses it too, his fingers close around your hand and he lifts it to his lips for a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours until he reluctantly releases you and shuts the door.

When he gets in the driver’s side you ask, “where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he says as he shifts the truck into drive.

He sets one hand loosely on the steering wheel and lets his other inch across the middle console until it’s resting on your thigh, his fingers slightly hidden under the hem of your dress.

His calloused thumb draws small circles on your soft skin and you love how rough it feels in comparison. You place your hand over his and trace his long fingers, gently stroking them with your fingertips. He shifts in the seat and glances at you while he squeezes your leg, the air thick with tension.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long to get to your destination and when Joel turns down a small dirt road you turn to him with a look of confusion.

“There’s no restaurant here,” you say.

“No, there isn’t,” he answers. “Hope that’s ok.”

He parks and hops out of his truck then comes around to open your door and before you can ask any more questions he grabs you around the waist and helps you down, your body sliding along his until your feet hit the ground.

You stay pressed against him, your hands curled around his biceps. When he doesn’t release you, you dance your fingers higher, grazing his shoulder before they dip to the buttons of his vest and press to his warm skin.

“Are you hiding any tattoos under here?” you ask with your eyes still on his chest.

Your fingers toy with the first button and you pop it open, hearing his breath catch in his throat.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, tightening his grip on you.

“I want to see,” you whisper, lifting your eyes.

His eyes close briefly and you can see his teeth grind together before he shifts your bodies so he can press you into the side of his truck, the need to feel every inch of you overpowering every other thought.

You continue your exploration and push the fabric apart, slowly dragging your finger downward and parting it more, just enough to see the top of another piece of ink. You look up and into his eyes as your fingers undo one more button of his vest, exposing more of his tan skin until you can see the whole tattoo.

Your eyes drop and you trace your fingertips over the dark ink.

“Beautiful,” you breathe out.

He captures your hand in his, pressing it to his lips before he rests it on his shoulder and with his mouth just a whispered breath from yours his hands caress your body, his frustration evident when the material of your dress keeps him from your bare skin.

“You drive me crazy sunshine. From the moment I saw you…”

“Joel,” you plea.

His nose brushes yours before trailing down your neck, his lips following with soft kisses.

“I had a picnic planned…food, drinks…dessert. Even thought we’d watch the sunset,” he murmurs into your skin.

“Had?” you gasp, your fingers digging into his back as he nips at the skin above your pulse point.

“You expect me to sit through a picnic now?” he teases as his lips move over your collarbone.

“But it sounds so romantic,” you say, your voice breathy as you tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck.

“I thought so,” he smirks as he brings his lips back to yours. “I’ve got everything ready, just say the words.”

“Thought you couldn’t make it through a picnic…” you counter with some playful sass.

“I’d try just for you but I can’t promise anything.”

His fingers slip under the hem of your dress, languidly sliding along your skin until they reach your inner thigh. Every motion is deliberate and when he moves his hand to your hip and teases the waistband of your panties you groan out his name.

“Problem sweetheart?” he asks, his eyes full of mischief.

Your fingers work through his thick dark hair, and move down his back, exploring and touching all the hard planes of muscle.

You want more. Need it. And you can feel him throb against your stomach as his bearded cheek grazes your delicate skin and he captures your lips in a kiss that steals any remaining air from your lungs.

His hand slides down to your ass and he gives it a firm squeeze, pulling your hips harder against his. With a slight nudge he pushes his knee between your legs and presses his thigh upward, making you whimper into his mouth.

The hard muscle flexes and you can’t stop the way you grind yourself over him.

“Fuck darlin’,” he hisses when he pulls away, his breathing heavy.

Your lips part when he grabs your waist and rocks you over his thigh, your moans of pleasure the only sounds he wants to hear.

He removes his knee and replaces it with his hand, pushing your panties to the side and easily sliding his thick fingers through your arousal.

“Oh fuck sunshine,” he moans against your lips, “this all for me?”

Your hands claw at his back, trying to bring him closer and he answers your silent plea, slowly pushing a finger inside you.

He grunts as your tightness surrounds him and the urge to see your face takes over as he pulls back from your lips to watch you.

He holds your gaze as he takes his time, gentle, slow, deliberate pumps of his hand as he builds a torturous rhythm.

“More,” you demand, dragging your hands down his chest before your fingers grab hold of his biceps.

He flexes under your touch and you can see the chords of muscle strain with his every movement.

“Joel, more.”

He growls and with his free hand, takes a hold of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head and against the truck.

You clench around him and weakly push against his grip. With a satisfied grin he keeps his eyes on yours as he pushes a second finger inside you.

His movements remain slow and torturous and it drives you wild with impatience. You buck your hips onto his hand, trying to take him deeper but he keeps you pinned in place and draws out your pleasure.

“Joel,” you beg, your desperation swallowed by his lazy but sexy kiss that makes you roll your hips all over again.

He keeps you on the edge until you you’re trembling in his arms, strung so taut but not alone. His expression is filled with need, his muscles straining with the last remains of his barely contained control.

“Please,” you whisper, on the verge of falling apart. “Please, Joel.”

Whatever impressive control he’s mastering snaps and he starts to move his fingers faster, pushing deeper. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles until you shatter against him, your release spasming through you until you can hardly hold yourself upright.

“I got you darlin’,” he murmurs and you feel his lips press softly to your shoulder as he draws his fingers away.

Your eyes meet his and his expression is soft with satisfaction.

“I’d apologize for not being able to keep my hands to myself,” he starts, lifting his hand between your bodies, his fingers gleaming, and licking them clean one by one, “but I’m addicted.”

“Joel…” you whisper, still breathless.

He slants his mouth over yours in a grazing, taunting kiss and you bite his lower lip before he deepens it so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

When he tears his mouth away it’s only for lack of air and you can see him start to open it as if he’s going apologize again but you press a finger to his lips.

“This is by far the best first date I’ve ever had,” you whisper as you trace his jaw. “And we still have time to watch the sunset.”

“We can do whatever you want sunshine.”

Your lips curl into a coy smile and you press yourself closer, bending your head to his and kissing him.

Hard and hungry.

His large hand curls around the back of your neck and he keeps you close, taking over and kissing you back just the same.

@blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @sstan-hoe @littleseasiren @faceache111

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #biker!joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #biker au

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

Text

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 5. New & Old

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Mentions and sexual harassment. Angst. Humiliation. Cursed words. Word Count: 2743 words. A/N: Hello peeps! Another day, another slay. I really enjoy writing this fic and I am really happy that you seem to like it as well. Thanks! :3 Ps. Fuck me you Joo Jaekyung

“Cheers!” We exclaimed as we clinked our beers.

We had finally returned home after a great victory in Dubai. The bar was full, the food kept coming to our long table and the mugs seemed bottomless. The entire Team Black was gathered to celebrate the crushing victory of our terrifying champion. The air was filled with laughter, pleasant chatter and popular music. Sukuna was at the head of the table, watching everyone like the king he is while wisely drinking water.

“C’mon, drink one with your coach!” I asked with a goofy smile due to the effects of alcohol. I had two mugs already, and it was starting to show.

“No. Do you know how many calories that have?” He rejected me completely.

There were few things I knew about him in the short time I have been his coach. Sukuna was grumpy, foul-mouthed and a jerk in every definition of the word, but his strongest characteristic is that he is ridiculously disciplined. He was a fucking ninja with incredible mental strength. He invited the whole team to eat burgers, wings, nachos and drown themselves in beer, while he just drank plain water and ate a veggie burrito. Sukuna was a great athlete, but he needed to learn how to relax once in a while.

“That only means that I have to maintain my title. I can't lose focus now,” he answered without paying me much attention. He surely noticed my drunkenness.

“That’s why you are always so cranky, you are always thinking of fighting and being a champion. It’s okay to enjoy life once in a while,” I tried again.

“You enjoyed too much and look where you are,” he exposed me, pounding his glass against the table to emphasize his point.

My body moved away from him at the loud bang. Everyone turned to look at us to see what it was all about, but when they saw that it was just another Sukuna tantrum, they went back to their own thing. My hand went straight to my neck. I avoided his gaze and resigned myself to continue drinking.

“You say it like it’s something bad,” I mumbled before taking a shy sip. “I refuse to become a coach,” Sukuna spat angrily.

“You couldn’t become one even if you tried.” Someone behind me defended me out of the blue.

I turned around, and my cheeks burned instantly. It was Choso. He's standing there like a guardian angel with a dark aura ready to defend me from a mean demon. He gave me a mischievous compliance smile that I couldn't help but mimic.

“It’s good to see you, bro! Sit down,” Yuuji, who was seated next to me, offered him his seat.

“Who the fuck invited you?” Sukuna frowned.

“Yuuji. He said he wanted to introduce me to someone,” Choso answered without looking away from me as he sat down.

"This guy always knows how to surprise me," I thought as I scanned him from head to toe. Seeing him up close was like paying attention to a piece of contemporary art, simple yet complicated at the same time. His long hair was down and neatly combed, his unruly curtain bangs fell perfectly to the sides of his eyes, framing them perfectly. You could tell he was Sukuna's brother by his sharp features and outlined eyebrows. I could imagine him frowning without needing to experience it.

“He is all yours. I’m drinking with Megumi,” Yuuji said, after introducing me to his brother for a second time. He went to the other side of the table to drink with his buddy, who was drinking alone.

He gave me a discreet wink that I could only see. That's when I realized what he had done. This was the "date" he had arranged for us as a favor. I hadn't been on a date in years, so I was super nervous. How could I not be? I wasn't ready. My hair was in a tight ponytail, I was wearing athletic clothes, and I was tired from jet lag. He looked so good in his denim jacket, baggy jeans and his smooth cologne that brushed my nose.

“Yuuji has told me so much about you,” I said, trying to hide my shyness.

“What a coincidence. Yuuji had also told me so much about you.” That was unexpected.

“Really? What did he tell you?” I asked, curious.

“That you are patient, nice and very cute,” he complimented me with a shy smile. “He didn’t tell me that last thing, it's just what I am seeing,” he corrected.

"He's so cute!" I thought excitedly. I could feel my poor heart in love running around in circles in my chest and my hands were starting to sweat, but I was calm. Who am I kidding? My cheeks hurt from grinning like an idiot. I felt like an awkward teenager in front of her out of her league crush.

“Is that your pickup line?” Sukuna joked.

“Shut up!” I barked, so he wouldn’t interrupt us. “Thanks, I think you are really cute as well,” I answered Choso’s flirting, paying him all of my attention. He looked a bit shocked that I was able to scold his brother so easily.

“Yuuji told me you used to fight in the UFC as well,” he said, ignoring Sukuna’s comment.

“I was the best. There are some of my fights on YouTube, my nickname is ‘Medusa’s Snake’,” I flexed proud as I poured him a beer from the bucket in the center of the wooden table, surrounded by delicious greasy snacks.

“A very poetic nickname. Did you know Medusa means protector in Greek? I think it goes well with you.”

When my first coach named me like that, I was flattered. Medusa was the mortal gorgon, one of the three daughters of the god of the sea, Forcys, and the goddess of sea monsters and the dangers of the sea, Ceto. She became the main enemy of men after suffering a painful rape by Neptune in front of the sanctuary of Minerva. Although early poets depicted her as a monster from birth, along with her immortal sisters, later writers claim that she was originally a beautiful maiden, but was turned into a monster by Athena or Minerva.

“Thanks, you are the first one who says it,” I said as my cheeks blushed. “Do you like mixed martial arts?”

“I used to practice kick boxing regularly, until someone discouraged me from continuing.” I noticed that he looked at Sukuna when he said “someone.”

I couldn't blame him. The active UFC community is pretty small. I wouldn't want to continue coexisting in the same environment as my biggest traitor. Besides, sports publicists love to compare athletes who share some sort of bond and spread drama. If Choso kept practicing to a professional level, reporters wouldn't leave him alone if they found out the champ fucked his fiancée.

The night flowed its course and the conversation continued to flourish between us. We drank, laughed and shared funny anecdotes. Choso was so nice, just like Yuuji, but shared that strong aura like Sukuna. He was the best of both worlds. Elegant, kind and respectful - what more could a girl ask for in a man?

Choso had to leave early because he had to work in the morning. He said goodbye to everyone except Sukuna, and I offered to escort him out. The vibrant street was still alive despite the darkness that ruled the skies as it was so late in the afternoon. People were still passing down the street in beautiful attire under the colorful lights of passing bars and restaurants. It had been a pleasant evening. It had been a long time since I had had so much fun.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Choso smiled friendly. His shoulders were relaxed, and his kind eyes conveyed to me that he was more comfortable than before.

“I say the same thing,” I smiled at him as well. He slipped his hands into his pants pockets and avoided my gaze out of nowhere. That comfort turned to anguish again, so my smile gradually disappeared.

“Yuuji told me you were interested in me…” he sighed. “Look, you are a great girl, but right now, I have a complicated situation with my brother, and dating his coach doesn’t sound like a good idea.” He scratched his neck embarrassed, still avoiding my sight. “So it was about that,” I thought.

“I get it. Thanks for giving me a chance at least,” I said kindly. The last thing I wanted to do was make him feel bad for rejecting me, but I wasn’t going to give up so easily. At the end of the day, I am a fighter at heart. “The truth is that I am not planning on being his coach for a long time. Seeing him holding his belt with pride on the ring, reminded me that I will be there again one day.”

I caressed my injured area with nostalgia. I missed being the star with the white lights illuminating my every dangerous move. I missed the audience yelling my name with excitement as they watched me destroy another one of my opponents. I missed the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I fought for my honor. Choso looked at me again, seeming confused by my answer but hopeful for the explanation.

“What I am trying to say is that when I become a protector again, I’ll call you,” I said with a proud smile. His eyes widened, surprised when he understood what I was trying to say.

“I’ll wait for your call then,” he smiled.

With that, he kissed my blushing cheek goodbye and drove off down the sidewalk. As I watched him get into his car, I stood a while longer by the door processing what had happened that night. "You're going to be mine," I affirmed, sure of myself.

Another day at the gym. Another day in hell. By this point the gym was my hell on earth. Dealing with the devil himself was complicated, sometimes there were good days when he would do everything I asked him to do without batting an eye and others were the fights were no longer physical, but verbal. Over the months as his coach, I had learned to deal with his heavy attitude.

“¡Ten kicks!” I ordered as I placed the cushion he was supposed to kick at the height of my stomach. “1, 2, 3…!” I counted every hard kick. I made sure to hold the cushion tightly so it wouldn’t fly away. “…7, 8, 8, 8, 8…!” I repeated with a smug face.

“Stop it!” He yelled without losing the beat.

“Don’t give up! …8, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9…!” I yelled, gripping the cushion hard. Sukuna huffed but kept kicking like the champ he is. “…9, 10!” I finished counting after 30 kicks.

“Go fuck yourself…” He sighed mad.

“For that, another 10,” I said, pulling the cushion back up.

“I missed seeing you like this.”

My heart stopped the moment I heard that voice. I could recognize it in any place, time or date. I knew exactly who it was and didn't want to turn around to confirm it, but I had to face it. The UFC world is small, so it was inevitable that we would meet again at some point, but I never thought it would be like this. Sukuna glared at the person behind me, sure he was wondering why a snoop was in his gym. I gulped dryly before confronting the biggest son of a bitch I'd ever met.

“Don’t frown like that, you will ruin your pretty face, beautiful,” he said with a pout. My jaw contracted when I heard such stupidity.

Naoya Zenin. One of the best fighters in the Zenin family, the current middleweight champion and my second coach. If I had to thank one person for teaching me how to deal with Sukuna, it would be this bastard. Because if I could survive him, I could survive anything. An arrogant, self-centered, stubborn man disguised as an angel incarnate. He was standing there with his stupid minions that followed him around like they were his ducklings.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, mad at his bare presence. From my tone and volume, some fighters stared at the scene.

“Sukuna lets you talk like that? I think you need a muzzle, bitch,” he smirked, as if it was something normal to say.

I wanted to beat him to silence. I let go of the pad with a thud and took off my protective gloves as I approached him to jump him. I was ready to beat the fuck out of him. I didn't care if I got fired, ruined my neck, or got beat to death, I had to get that stupid grin off his face no matter what. I couldn't let him say those kinds of things to me just because.

When I was about to jump out of the ring, Sukuna grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. He forced me to stay close to his body, so I could only see his chest. I tried to break free from his grip, but his arm wrapped perfectly around my wait. My body trembled like a Chihuahua ready to bite. I looked him in the eye, asking him to let me handle this, but he ignored me.

“Can you leave my coach out of this?” He asked, clearly annoyed.

“Yours?” Naoya laughed out loud. “She is mine since she gave me her weak ass,” he said with a wide grin full of confidence.

I closed my eyes in embarrassment as soon as he said that. I didn't want Sukuna to find out like that. I wanted to erase him from my life forever, but he always managed to infiltrate like heavy humidity. I couldn't see him, but I knew he had a relaxed posture, his sharp eyes scanning my figure up and down and critiquing my current position.

“I don’t give a shit about what kind of relationship you have, but now, she only listens to me. You better get the fuck out of my gym before I release her so she can beat your ass,” he barked in my defense.

I looked at him in surprise at that answer. His red eyes were calm but determined. He meant every word he said. If Sukuna allowed me to, I could beat him at my pleasure. I wasn't going to waste the opportunity, I would make him very proud.

“Get the fuck out?! I just arrived to introduce myself as your next opponent!” He yelled excitedly. The gym looked at him in shock at the statement, especially me. Sukuna was going to face Naoya for the belt of the light heavyweight category?! “The UFC accepted the fight today. I was so excited that I came all the way to see you! I am a big fan!”

“You already saw me, now fuck off. I won’t repeat myself,” Sukuna asked, surprisingly keeping his composure.

“At least let me say goodbye to my cute wife,” Naoya pouted.

“I am not your wife, motherfucker!” I yelled, turning around suddenly to dispute that fat lie he dropped. Sukuna held me back to not jump him.

“Awww, just like the good old days,” Naoya grinned. “That’s how it is going to be then, see you later…” he turned around to go back from where he came from with his stupid side chicks. “…maybe sooner than you think,” he winked at me before leaving.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists in frustration at not being able to say anything else to her stupid face. I pulled myself out of Sukuna's grasp. We both stood in silence while the others murmured and whispered about the strange encounter. I didn't know how to explain the situation to him, I didn't even want to, but I had to.

“I…”

“I don’t give a shit,” he said before returning my gloves that I tossed earlier. “Let’s get back to work.” I took the gloves, relieved.

“From now on, I won’t teach how to be a floor fighter,” I said as I adjusted my gloves around my fingers. “I will teach you how to kill that motherfucker,” I stated strongly. A wide grin appeared on his proud face.

“You have all my attention now.”

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basketprutas · 2 months

Text

No magic tricks... Just me. ˚*･༓☾

Characters: Lyney x reader (no gender-specific terms were used!)

Genre: fluff. nothing else just have fluff as an apology for my lack of posts 😭

Now playing... Bewitched by Laufey!

Despite the numerous things Lyney has seen himself, nothing else can be as beautiful as you.

He’s a simple man; he wants nothing more than him and his siblings to be safe and happy. But sometimes he wants to be greedy and take something for himself, just this once.

But it never happens.

That is until he sees you.

When you just met, to the trial, he felt nothing but awe. Someone was willing to go as far as helping him despite knowing each other for just a day. Sure, you as a traveler had a reputation around town, but seeing you for yourself changed everything.

He wanted to know you more, and see how things unfold by that point, but he didn’t expect to tell you the actual truth of his upbringing. It’s unbearable; you just started to know him, and now you know he is with the house of the hearth, someone who was in close relations with “the knave.”

The look on your face said it all for him. Heightened with emotions, he felt lost.

For once, he was unsure of how things would unfold now that you knew.

But for the first time, he didn’t want to hide it. He didn’t want to hide it from you- Because you gave him hope that someone with a background like yours could understand or sympathize with him.

So even if he saw that look from you, he wanted to make up for it.

And damn right he did, from finishing the trial, he felt so much relief to see your smiling face and he wanted nothing but to frame that moment right then and there. “Thank you, for believing in me.” He said. With all that said and done, he wanted to put this behind him and finally get to know you.

You and Lyney went around town, with his frequent magic tricks entertaining you now and then. While it was an act to garner your attention, he wanted you to look in between the lines. Rainbow roses aren’t something someone just gifts to you with no meaning at all.

Enamored, you kept the rose in your room and looked at it every night before bed. Lyney’s presence was very felt, and it felt so natural. You await the next time you saw him.

Weekly encounters became daily, and Lyney was always with you in your journey around Fontaine. You didn’t mind, he was great company and you had a blast with him when you would do commissions for the guild.

But when it was time for you to leave, he didn’t know what to do.

So on the late cold night, two days before you leave for your next journey, he knocks at your door in a hurry.

You open the door, half asleep and confused. “Lyney? Did something happen?” You ask. “Yes, please come with me, it’s an… emergency.” He says with urgency. He holds your hand and you both walk the quiet streets of Fontaine. With the shops closed, Fontaine never looked so ominous. The bright shine of the moon beneath the both of you, Lyney hurriedly brought you to the middle of the street. “Lyney can you please explain what’s going on?” You ask as he drags you around. “We’re near, hold on.” He says.

When he finally stops, you’re confused as he sits you down on one of the benches. “What now?” You ask, really worried that something might have happened while you slept.

He breathes in, and out as he says “You’re leaving right?” with a solemn look on his face. “I am…” You reply. “You know, when I met you, all I could think of was a firework.” He laughs as he holds your hand. “And how is this relevant?” “Just let me finish!” He exclaims and you stay silent.

“You were something so… beautiful yet such a short glimpse. Just like a firework.” He made a small firework with his pyro vision on the palm of his hand.

“I’d heard about you before you even arrived here, and I was really interested in knowing more about you. And after the trial, I knew I had to take up every opportunity I could. And I did. And I thought you’d get the hint, get the clues I gave almost every single day but you didn't! You didn't…” He grips your hand tighter.

“And I'm tired of hiding this. So no more magic tricks… just me.” He breathes in.

“I like you. A lot. And I don't want you to go just yet because damn has t been the best months of my life! I spent all my life making sure my family was safe and sound and for once, I wanted to know if you were too.” His eyes looked deep into yours as he confessed.

You couldn’t believe it. “I… don't know what to say.” You laugh and smile at him. “You don’t have to say anything just… stay with me for a little longer. Please?” His pleading face was all it took for you to hug him tightly. He tensed, completely shocked at your touch. “Of course I will.” You reply and that’s all it took for him to hug you back. He nuzzled in your neck, unbelievably happy.

You spent another 30 minutes or so just watching the moon shine as you and Lyney all the times he tried ‘confessing’ his love for you and you couldn’t help but laugh. “That firework was a good touch. Touché.” You say and he laughs. “I'm a romantic at heart, can you blame me?”

As the night ended, he brought you back to your quarters and before he could leave, he kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, my little firework.” You smile, roll your eyes, and close the door, your heart filled with nothing but joy as you lay down that night.

END.

Notes: I am unbelievably sorry for not posting but I AM SORT OF KIND OF BACK I am not sure when I'll get back to posting but this is one of the drafts I made that I never continued so I finished it rn because I am bored and inspired. Hope you guys liked it!

I recently started writing again; click here to learn more about me ^-^

Inbox is always open for suggestions and comments. I'd be glad to try out any prompts you guys give!

-Clara

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #genshin x reader #basketprutas #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #lyney x reader

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collectorofsoulss · 1 year

Text

Exile! Mammon x F!Reader

Mammon had a secret life. After all, his brothers can’t destroy what they don’t know. But what if they found out? Would they use this moment to be supportive? or destroy his single source of happiness?

A disagreement within the Household of Lamentation left Mammon packing, which wasn’t the first time. He comes back–eventually. Mammon always found a reason to return home, always. And even then in his absence, he wasn’t truly absent. Lucifer was able to keep track of his wildcard of a brother. He was so chaotic, destruction followed. All Lucifer had to do was pick up the newspaper and read. However, this time around not even the local casinos saw him.

Then finally! He returned. To Lucifer’s surprise, there were no traces of damage. Mammon was different. Here the minute, gone the next. Mammon was only present to handle royal affairs or attend mandatory meetings. Of course, there were occasional moments where he needed to cast judgment on those who were assigned to his layer of Hell, however, once the business was handled –Mammon was gone.

It continued for a few years until Lucifer sought interest in his whereabouts. What changed him? Every demon he sent to trail him wound up missing or dead. The leads were cold, and no information was gained. It was only a matter of time before he did it himself. The Lords of Hell soon found themselves on a trip, scouring the realms of the world to find their dearest brother, Mammon.

When they did not find him during the first search it made them realize Mammon did not want to be found. While Lucifer hunted high and low he discovered rumors and talks about what’s become of his brother. Mammon did have a track record. He was known for entering bad deals, being easily manipulated, baring a curse he was unable to break. They all grew restless, and aggressive in finding answers. Some necks had to be broken, some lives had to be taken. Each result had Lucifer stepping over pools of blood to get to him.

Lucifer had everyone dispersed to cover more ground. Naturally, it was he who discovered the location. The neighborhood was quite…ordinary, basic, a place Mammon would never be caught dead in. The community was bright, friendly with neighbors who’d say ‘hello’ as he, a dark entity passed through white picket fences. A solid knock from his fist nearly unhinged the door. Even in his humanoid form, Lucifer was still large, still mighty. A single flick was all he need, anything more could decimate cities. Frustrated was what he was. His patience ran thin. It was not often Lucifer loses his composure but when it comes to those he loves, composure be damned.

“Hello, how many I help you?”

Lucifer wasted no time getting to the point. “Mammon. Where is he.”

“And you are?”

“It’s not about who I am but what you are going to be.” The air became thin. “Now. Where. Is. He.” A single wave of his hand had the knob snatched from your reach.

Enough of these games, he demanded to see his brother. A dip of his head, he stepped through the low door frame. Mammon was here, he could smell him.

“Excuse me!” you exclaimed, brutally shoved from the entrance. “You need to leave!”

Lucifer’s shadow consumed your form. Tsk. As if you were a challenge, you were barely an opponent. His aura dispersed through your home, immediately plants began to wilt. His crimson eyes radiated the gates of hell, instilling fear into your soul. Maintaining a distance, you accidentally collided into the furniture; the vase toppled over, shattering. A spell left your lips, attempting to buy some time to run–

“Did you really think such amateur hex could work on me?” he adjusted his gloves, breaking the barrier to pass the entrance hall. “You are more foolish than I thought. A trait that will now cost your life.”

“Does he owe you money too?” you whispered. “Please,” you plead. The racing of your heart left you breathless. “I’ll give you the money, just don’t make a scene–”

Before you knew it, small footsteps approached the confrontation. Tiny hands held a stuffed animal, a small child appeared but was frozen from fear. There’s a stranger in the house.

“Mommy?”

Lucifer’s intense demeanor shifted to observe this miniature human. No one else had those striking blue eyes and soft milky white hair. This human was, different – familiar.

The fear was evident in your eyes which made tears swell up in his ocean blues. “M-Mommy, I’m scared.”

“MJ, go back upstairs, I’ll be up shortly.”

As much as he wanted to move, he couldn’t, his legs refused to listen. Even with blurred vision, MJ saw the dark power. It drained everything of its natural energy. He was feeding from life itself. MJ had never seen anything like this, his eyes glossed towards yours and watched how it was consuming yours too. Soon his socks soaked as he made a puddle on the floor. In seconds you raised your child into your arms.

“If you can wait outside, I’ll give you everything I have, just please, leave my children out of this,” you reasoned.

Rage diffused from Lucifer’s body and was replaced with a new feeling, an unfamiliar emotion he dared not name. He took a moment to observe the walls and furniture of your home. Gradually, he approached a frame causing you to take a few steps back. Lucifer held it. There were you…him…and two additional members who ironically looked just like his brother. His dark eyes creased, unable to handle such vital information. Setting the photo down, Lucifer removed himself from the premises to make one single phone call.

In seconds you bolted up the staircase, MJ cradled against your chest until you reached the nursery. Maximus was peacefully asleep when you snatch him from his bassinet. He stirred a little but you hushed him forcefully. Traveling light, you wrapped him against your back.

“Mommy, my socks,” MJ whined.

“Honey, we don’t have time for that,” you grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

He fumbled a little, “B-But I'm wet.”

“We’ll change you later,” you promised. Quickly the two of you moved. That man – no, demon – invaded your home without permission. His presence was heavy, he made you weak. For a moment, your knees buckled as you pushed open the door. You surely would have fainted if you had stood in his presence any further.

MJ lagged, small legs unable to keep up with your ferocious steps. Eventually, you boosted him into your arms. MJ’s buried himself deep into your shirt as you move, fearful of what’s to come. The exit was near, you could taste the freedom on your lips. Once you were outside, they wouldn't act. Demons wouldn't dare draw attention once in public. Where there were demons, hunters were to follow. If only you could get out in time.

The second you saw the door, the man was already sitting across the room – comfortably, as if he didn’t break a sweat in arriving before you. It felt as if time had stopped the moment you saw him. Expression – unreadable, he stared, not at you but at your children. He rose while your legs failed to continue. The blood rushed in your ears, your heartbeat – loud.

Everything slowed, you were suffocating in the coldness of his presence. You tried to speak and say something, but there was nothing. Your mouth stayed shut as the demon approached, gradually closing in on the children. Your arms trembled with the lack of control. MJ peeked out from your shoulder and the intruder did not bare the atmosphere of death. Gently, you lifted your babies higher, trying to shield them both from view.

“I am not going to hurt you,” he disclosed.

He was lying, had to be. This demon came with intentions to tear you to shreds. What caused him to change so easily? Your throat constricted painfully. What should you do? Should you run? Stay still? All options seemed useless. Cause no matter what if he wanted you dead, you would be.

“I am Lucifer Morningstar; Mammon’s eldest brother.”

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