#was hoping I wouldn’t hit a tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gogogodzilla · 6 months

Text

day 31, sex pollen

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, unprotected sex, fuck or die, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, reader gets sad at the end, multiple orgasms, dedicated to @omgbrcat hope you enjoy it bestie kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You didn’t think you’d ever run so fast and wildly in your life. Well, except for last year when you were fighting for your life and running away from everything that was trying to kill you.

Peeta was a few steps behind you, slower and stumbling a bit due to his prosthetic leg. You threw a glance over your shoulder every few seconds, just to make sure he was still there with you.

The various leaves and foliage of the jungle hit you as you ran. You hardly even notice as the foliage shifts from a normal lush green to unnatural shades of pinks, purples, and blues. You did notice, however, when one of the plants shoots a dusty substance directly in your face as you run past it.

You lost your footing as you attempted to wipe the dust off your face. Peeta came up beside you, arms outstretched and ready to pick you up.

“Don’t!” you shouted as you slowly stood, slightly relieved that your face didn’t immediately burn off. “I don’t want it to affect you, whatever it is.”

Your ears strained as you tried to discern if the mutts were still on your tail.

“Do you hear them?” Peeta questioned, echoing your thoughts. “Y’know since you have a Capitol-engineered ear and all.”

You huffed out a laugh as you listened. You couldn’t hear the familiar rustle of leaves, and you relaxed slightly. You knew never to get too comfortable in the arena, but your lungs were burning and you needed to get this stuff off your face.

“Do you still have the spile?” you asked, attempting to avoid the way your body felt like it was on fire and your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Yeah,” he breathed, as he began to hammer it into the trunk of a nearby tree. You prayed that the trees wouldn’t be as hazardous as whatever was covering your face. You watched as he stuck a finger under the liquid flowing out of the spile, checking to make sure it was safe.

He wrapped his hand around your elbow and it felt like fire bloomed under his touch. He was gentle as always as he guided your face under the water. You dragged your hands over your face as you washed off the dusty substance that had covered it. You attempted to rid yourself of the inferno burning under your skin.

Your cheeks flushed as you pulled away from the stream of water. Peeta’s touch was fleeting but your entire body ached for him. It was a strange feeling, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Your heartbeat pounded in your chest with every shaky breath you took. You hunched over, attempting to calm yourself. A thin sheen of sweat begins to cover your skin, and your eyebrows furrowed in something akin to pain.

You heard Peeta call your name, but the only thing you could get out was a whimper. He was on you within seconds, gripping your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You scrambled out of his touch, thinking clearly enough to know that you needed to get away from him.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned, voice desperate and eyes frantically searching over your form. You hurriedly crawled away from him.

You shook your head, as you pressed your back against a tree. “I— I don’t know. I feel hot,” you breathed, conflicted between clenching your thighs together and spreading them for him.

Peeta kneeled in front of you, eyes soft, “How can I help?”

You remembered before you’d entered your first Games together how he didn’t want the Game to change him. You were thankful that he was still the same sweet boy you entered the arena with. He was different in some ways, of course. No one left the arena unscathed, but who he was at his core was unwavering.

Your vision was becoming hazy, and a dull ache where you’d never felt it before emerged. You let out a low groan as the heat blistering down to your bones becomes almost unbearable.

Peeta crawled between your legs and cupped your face. You hissed at his touch, leaning into him. You gripped onto his sides, nails digging into the soft flesh through his suit. His touch felt heavenly against your skin, a ravenous hunger for more filled you to the very brim.

“Touch me,” you whimpered out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Please, Peeta.”

He swiped a thumb across your cheek, and your grip on his tightened. You tugged him closer, your limbs seeming to move on their own. You made a small, strangled sound in the back of your throat.

Peeta’s lips were hesitant against yours as he kissed you. He was always so gentle with you, never wanting to cross a line. You moaned against him, and swiped your tongue across his bottom lip, desperate to taste him.

You wrapped your arms around his back and clawed at the zipper to his suit, tugging it down as much as you could. He sucked in a breath as you yanked his suit off of his shoulders, practically manhandling him. You were giving the Capitol exactly what they wanted, but you didn’t care.

The ache deep between your legs was growing with every moment, and your body temperature rose along with it. Your kisses increased in desperation until you were pleading against Peeta’s lips and writhing against him.

“It’s okay,” Peeta soothed, reaching behind you to unzip your suit. “I’ll help, it’s okay.”

You hurriedly peeled your suit off your shoulders, letting out a sigh as Peeta’s fingers trailed over the newly exposed skin. Your cheeks flushed as he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses against the column of your neck and your chest.

You ran your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, the feeling doing little to quell the electricity crackling under your skin. His tongue circled your nipple, eliciting a breathy whine from you.

You raked your hands through the hair at the nape of his tugged and tugged on the strands. A groan vibrated in his throat, and his hands splayed against your ribcage.

“Peeta,” you whined as he kneaded your other breast and you clenched your thighs around him.

You couldn’t stand not having him for a second longer and you hooked your arms under his, gripping him tightly as you rolled to the side. You landed on top of him, straddling him. You panted as you finally got a good look at him. His eyes were half-lidded and he was flushed and breathing heavily. His pupils were blown wide as he looked up at you.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, “Is it getting to you, too?”

He nodded, attempting to steady his breathing. You stood and shimmied out of your suit, tossing it to the side. You leaned down to hook your fingers into the waistband of Peeta’s suit and looked up at him through your lashes. The quick dip of his head was all you needed, and you were practically ripping his suit off of him. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken off Peeta’s pants, but you flushed all the same. You were too focused on saving his life last time to worry about being embarrassed.

You were back on him faster than your hazy mind could process, your hips moving on their own accord as you ground against his thigh. His length pressed against your belly, warm and unbelievably hard, as you dragged your hips against him.

You reached down and stroked him in time with each rut of your hips. He let out a mix between a whimper and a sigh as you did. Your movements quickened, and you buried your face in the crook of Peeta’s neck. With each twist of your wrist around his cock, he was letting out noises that had heat pooling in your belly. His tip was leaking, and you loved the sound he made when you ran your thumb over it.

Peeta’s fingertips dug into the plush of your hips so hard you didn’t doubt that he’d leave bruises. The animalistic part of you that had taken control wanted him to mark you in every way possible. Your slick had begun to cover Peeta’s thigh, allowing you to easily grind against him.

Your strokes became more erratic as your pace against Peeta’s cock increased. You both were so wound tight you might burst. You’d never been so aware of your pulse pounding in your ears, and you came with a strangled cry. Tears coated your cheeks as warmth encased your entire being and you spasmed against Peeta. You had a moment of respite as you thought the plant’s effects had subsided, but the drive to ravish him returned with a vengeance.

He followed you off the precipice soon after you calmed down, back arched and head thrown back as his release covered your knuckles. The fog that surrounded your head cleared just enough for you to realize just how pretty Peeta looked like this. If you were going to die, you didn’t think you’d get a better view.

Your pace slowed but Peeta was still hard in your hand. The boiling heat still lingered under your skin, and your pulse quickened. You wondered if that was the Capitol’s goal; to make you so fucked out you succumb to exhaustion or burn you from the inside out.

Peeta looked utterly exhausted and a coil of guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

“Just one more, please,” you begged, trailing kisses down his neck. He nodded against you, and you could’ve cried from the relief that washed over you.

You lifted your hips and aligned the tip of his cock with your entrance, gasping at the sensation. Peeta’s hips bucked up unconsciously, shoving himself deeper inside you. A pained hiss left you, and Peeta cried out a thousand apologies, his iron grip returning to your hips once more.

“I’m sorry. You’re just— Fuck… So— tight,” he babbled out, brown eyes glazing over. You pressed a featherlight kiss against his cheek, thoughts too consumed with his cock inside you to reassure him properly. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, sighing when your hips were finally flush. Peeta had his eyes screwed shut, gritting his jaw in thinly veiled restraint.

Your hands settled on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips against his. Peeta rested his head against the tree as you rode him, releasing little pants and moans with every thrust of your hips.

With each moment that passed your movements became more erratic, desperate to reach your peak once again. Peeta’s hands frantically roamed your body, grasping and kneading whatever inch of skin he could reach.

He reached a hand between the two of you and drew hurried circles around your clit. He lifted his hips to meet yours, jutting himself deeper inside you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled your ears, and you prayed you were the only ones trapped in this portion of the arena.

It took no time for your release to hit you, practically knocking the wind out of you as you clenched around Peeta’s cock. Your vision went hazy, and for a moment you feared you’d pass out.

Peeta finished with a few more rolls of your hips against his. He filled you to the brim, his release hot and steady coated your walls.

Your vision cleared as you came down from your high. The fire within you had finally dissipated, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You felt exhaustion consume you as you slumped against Peeta.

“I’m sorry,” you slurred out, clinging onto Peeta like your life depended on it. Your face screwed up and you felt your throat tightening.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he rushed out, running his hands over your body, attempting to soothe you as quiet sobs wracked your body. Your last thought before drowsiness overtook you was of how much you didn’t deserve Peeta Mellark.

Your heart pounded as you awoke, adrenaline spiking as you heard someone calling your name. You jumped to your feet, eyes frantically searching your surroundings. Your movements caused Peeta to stir and his eyes shot open, the same panic gracing his features.

You tugged on your suit, grimacing at the dried cum that covered your inner thighs. You tossed Peeta his suit and pulled him to his feet. You didn’t know how long you’d been out, and the thought turned your stomach. Someone could’ve easily come along and killed you both.

You grabbed your weapon while Peeta removed the spile from the tree.

“Let’s just hope our sponsors enjoyed the show,” you joked, immediately cringing as soon as the words left your mouth.

The corners of Peeta’s mouth quirked up, “I’m sure they did.”

#peeta mellark #the hunger games #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark x reader smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #reader insert #no y/n #josh hutcherson

5K notes · View notes

dilfartist · 10 months

Text

A foolish endeavor

Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?

Word count; 2.8k

Reader description; Female/GN

TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.

Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}

Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.

Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.

Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.

The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.

Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.

Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.

Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.

You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.

Miguel O’Hara.

Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.

It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.

You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.

Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.

You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.

The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.

His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.

You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.

Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.

For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.

By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.

When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.

You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.

Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.

You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.

Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”

“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.

“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.

No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”

You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?

That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.

You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.

Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.

You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”

Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.

“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.

You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.

Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”

You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.

Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”

You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.

The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.

Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.

When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.

Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.

Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.

Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.

It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.

Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.

You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building

Fuck it.

If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.

You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.

“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.

How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?

God, being on the run was stressful.

Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.

When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.

Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.

The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.

You see it.

Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!

“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.

Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.

At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.

“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.

You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.

He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.

You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.

You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.

“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.

Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.

The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.

Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.

His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”

Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”

————————

Translations

- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?

- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?

- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.

- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.

- mi alma/ my soul

4K notes · View notes

evielmostdefinitely · 5 months

Note

Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era

mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.

contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them.

His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride.

Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.”

Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed.

You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded.

You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?”

The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you.

“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly.

Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?”

Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?”

Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?”

Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-”

“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?”

Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress.

“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly.

“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?”

It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it.

“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded.

“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?”

Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.”

“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?”

Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?”

“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…”

“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?”

“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner.

“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised.

Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to.

“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.”

“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused.

“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.”

Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you.

“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.”

“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave.

You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned.

Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.”

“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-”

“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.”

You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?”

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded.

“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly.

Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”

You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.”

“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly.

You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.”

Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office.

Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor.

You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you.

“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead.

“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.

Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-”

The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear.

“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!”

You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district.

The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger.

His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.”

“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.”

“It’s alrig-”

“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy.

The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you.

“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought.

You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace.

“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him.

He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him.

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before.

You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.”

Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words.

“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?”

“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest.

“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened.

“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come.

You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag.

“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly.

You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you.

You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you.

“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background.

“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that.

“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race.

“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently.

“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression.

“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst.

“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.”

“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face.

“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.”

You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought.

“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday.

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before.

“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer.

His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful.

You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin.

It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you.

2K notes · View notes

macfrog · 9 months

Text

you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

2K notes · View notes

neteyamsilly · 1 year

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 6

summary ;; This is the reality of Jake Sully: the father and Olo'eyktan of the People cannot coexist, Eywa teaches her lessons in the toughest ways. PART 5 | NEXT (wip) pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; well this took a hot minute. am back on my bs WARNING for violence and t0rture, reader discretion is advised. Please excuse my mistakes if you see any!

Jake moved on pure primitive instinct, unbridled arctic rage honing all his senses into one laser point of focus. It wasn’t survival, and it surely wasn’t prey running from predator, there was nothing noble about what he was trying to achieve.

That avatar was going to die today, and Jake was going to make it hurt. No fair game. No warrior’s death. No respect.

Devoid of the shape of humanity or the ties that bound him to it, he was the embodiment of a creature’s killer intent, body taking over and consciousness disappearing to the backseat as he catapulted his tomahawk at the avatar, taking advantage of the miniscule opening provided by a magazine change needed after emptying all of his bullets to a Jake luring him into wasting his resources away.

The dull squelch of the hand-carved ax’s head plunging into flesh couldn’t be dampened by the avatar’s choked and short shout, and Jake was jumping out of cover in no time, a bull to red, advancing towards the man, footsteps not hidden out of having no concern for it at all, let him panic or try to struggle for all Jake cared.

Opposite of what he expected, the rifle wasn’t picked up or fumbled to aim at him. The avatar, pale in the face and pupils having devoured the yellow, fear trumping the pain of his arm almost sliced off from shoulder, crawled away on his back from Jake in full speed, getting up before Jake could reach him, and started staggering into the forest, dropping the tomahawk in the process.

Jake stopped in his tracks for a moment and picked his weapon up, the dark liquid glistening purple in the light of the Tree of Souls, droplets of blood making the moss light up as they hit the ground. His chest heaved in controlled, loud breaths, mouth pulled back in a snarl, watching the pathetic son of a bitch trying to get away.

He was one of the lot who’d shot you, hurt you, tortured you — simply to get a reaction out of Jake.

He was the one who pulled Jake away before he could fix his mistakes, undo the damage they had done, and get you back.

Jake was so close. So close.

You were there. You were right there. He could still feel you in his arms, his shoulder imprinted with your tears, shiest of smiles at a better future he could build with you from the burnt soil of your relationship.

If it hadn’t been for him…

That man was your murderer.

He deserved the hell of a father’s making.

This avatar was a marine — and the fucking idiot was running into the oblivion blind worse than a normal civilian would in this situation, had all those years of training evaporated in one second? Jake’s steps were determined, yet lax following after the guy, nose picking up the trail of blood left behind, eyes watching the red splatters. This was all Hansel and Gretel for him, playing follow the breadcrumbs.

The sound of thumping, frantic running, bumping into obstacles, crashing into flora, all was distinguishable from the natural song of the forest Jake had gotten so familiar with in these fifteen years. No response came from the avatar, but Jake wasn’t hurrying. He would have him. Let the bastard tire himself out first — but he wouldn’t let him die. No. He could smell the fear, the blood, anger at bay, all ice, knowing the trees would carry all the sounds he needed to Jake. He could hear exactly where the avatar was. and If he was hoping he’d bleed himself out faster than Jake could reach him to save himself from what was going to happen, well…

He’d better start praying for mercy to whatever deity held his worthless faith, because Jake had none of it. They had no mercy for you, his sinless, innocent child, all but wails and yelps and blood, and apologies for it.

Every time Jake thought of you in that tremendous pain to the brink of delirium, he burned in his heart’s ice until he was black and purple all over. Your smile was so real, your embrace was tiny and warm in his arms and he had a chance, the only chance no parent could ever get in this life. Jake had dissolved together with that mirage.

The part of him engulfed in flames wanted to end this quickly and painfully—to burn it all, break that man in, scream his lungs out, the other part of him, frozen fury that scalded over in the loss of you, wanted to draw it out, wanted to inflict never-ending pain, to bring the avatar back from the brink of death over and over again just to repeat it in a cycle.

His child. His baby.

The ties that held Jake together were getting pulled tight, the pressure building like deep water currents, thinner threads snapping and crackling, body being pulled to all five directions from all five limbs. Awareness went out and barged its way back in hot flashes, he couldn’t comprehend the passing of time and how long he let your murderer catch the delusion of shaking Jake off his tail — but, his instincts knew to reveal himself before the avatar could be claimed by blood loss.

Dangling hope right in front of his face just to snatch it away wasn’t enough. It could never be enough compared to you who had dragged your own corpse back home, muted to your own pain cocooned between those who should have meant nothing but home and safety to you. Torture. You had lived torture in your last hours with help just one step, one word away.

Nothing would ever be enough.

Jake emerged from the thick flora like the grim reaper himself who would always be waiting right at the spot of the reaping wherever the soul ran away to, detached and unimpressed, blank face not reflecting the scorched soul inside. The almost passed out avatar jolted awake when he smelled the smoke from Jake’s shadow falling on him, and could only press his back further to the body of the cluster of big rocks he had taken shelter against as if somehow becoming one with it could shield him away from Jake’s wrath.

The man’s breathing was getting louder and shakier the more Jake stood there motionless. “C’mon then,” he said between clenched teeth, spasming hand dropping from his mutilated shoulder, squaring up the last drops of his courage. “Get on with it.”

Jake’s whitened fingers were making noise against the handle of his tomahawk, but his voice was hauntingly hollow, unfeeling now that he had the man right in his palm. “Thought I should let you live what you did to my daughter first.”

The avatar began to scream. “Fuck you, man, we didn’t do none of this shit to that kid—”

Jake’s tone didn’t change, but it cut worse than a knife. “You killed my kid.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching, the reality of what was coming to him finally sinking in and Jake witnessed every panicked second of it. “Fuck…” His gaze wildly alternated between Jake and the tomahawk, raising his better, trembling hand up for feeble defense. “Look, look, listen, we didn’t kill her, alright? We patched her up, okay, she was going to be a prisoner, what happened happened because you engaged in battle, we wouldn’t do that to a—AGH!”

He was interrupted by Jake sharply shoving the head of the tomahawk into his injury, just putting it in there, not moving it further down. “Do you have children, marine?”

The man palmed at the weapon, fingernails digging into the wood, but no matter how much he pushed, it didn’t budge one bit. “Stop, stop! Fuck—”

Jake repeated again, firmer. “I asked you a question, do you have children?”

“No!— No, god, argh!”

He spaced out for a while, watching him squirm and trash to get away with defeated, half-assed attempts, also unable to because of how much of an immovable object Jake was making the weapon buried in the open wound be. It would hit the bone if he used more strength.

With a fixed, stony stare, Jake removed the tomahawk, waiting for the man’s deplorable whimpers to recede before breaking him the news like reading it off a doctor’s report. “You won’t get to have any.”

He didn’t look like he cared about something like that, but the man knew his fate insinuated by the words. Nevertheless,it didn’t mean he could be free from the survivor’s instinct’s mood swings his body was putting him through. Denial to bargaining within minutes. “Just kill me already, you deserter piece of—”

“Oh, no, no no,” Jake reassured, the only flicker of emotion he had shown since he’d cornered the avatar. “You won’t get to die for a long time, either.”

The avatar grunted, head falling down before he started to shake it. “Please just let it end—man, just let it end, I’m sorry, okay, please!” A whole body-trembling begging shifted to anger the more Jake remained non-responsive. Watching. Just watching. The hole in his chest getting wider the more he fed this man’s suffering to it — it wasn’t enough. “Just fucking do it! Pussy ass bitch! Come on you blue motherfucker, kill me! Kill m—”

“Are you the one who shot my daughter?”

“What?”

“Are you. The one. Who shot my daughter?”

The avatar’s face twisted. “It wasn’t me—it wasn’t—asshole, you already killed the guy, I didn’t fucking do anything!—”

“You... didn’t do anything?”

A beat. The forest fell silent in Jake’s ears. Just like how the noises you made had abruptly died down as he was putting pressure on your wound.

And like that, the thick haze that had Jake desensitized blew over, unadulterated anger rushed to his body, acidic and nauseating, soul stitching back to his limbs by a million needles and he began to shake, face contorting, teeth showing itself, the hiss that lacerated his throat was the most terrifying one of his life yet, it didn’t sound like it belonged to a sentient being, twisted by a grieving, demented animalistic horror. The avatar’s breath hitched, whatever protest and voice he had escaping deep inside his body, ears pinned back to his head.

“Of course,” Jake glowered, swallowing the scorching stones blocking his throat. He closed his burning eyes, and was greeted by the image of you, opening them back again, and shaking the ax as if it was an accusing finger.

And without a word of warning, his hand shot down and grabbed the avatar from the neck of his tactical vest, hurling him over the chest-level array of big rocks forming a pointy bed above, ignoring the cries of pain as the abused, torn open flesh of the wound dragged through the sharp teeth of the gravel, dousing them in blood. “Please, please, stop!—I’m sorry, I was wrong, that wasn’t right, shit, shit!”

Jake snatched the man’s dominant arm that was coincidentally the same one dangling by fractured bone and tendons from the shoulder. His soul had known what he wanted right from the start before his brain had processed it. “This hand,” he spat, holding it from the wrist, gnashing his teeth. “that pulled the trigger at me…”

Murdered his daughter for a second time.

All a soldier’s worth for. One hand to hold the stock tight against the body and one to fire. All that to take a single life.

Leaning the hand down against the rock in a sudden move, Jake slammed on the blunt, pointy end of the tomahawk on it like he was hammering a nail, the sickening crack of the bones breaking got followed by the avatar’s fractured scream.

Jake saw you hunched, cheekily laughing in the blue and purple of the creek, freckles glowing because of the eclipse, silhouette illuminated by the floating bioluminescent bugs.

Spinning the tomahawk in his clammy hand in a full 360 turn, he smashed it down once more, stronger. The metal broke skin and sank into spongy muscle. His ears were buzzing, ringing from how the shrill yells.

Jake was hugging you after what seemed to be years, and your little arms were clinging to him for life — you were sand slipping from his fingers.

Jake hammered again.

You were telling him how mean he was to you, your voice suppressing the avatar’s.

He brought it down one more time and felt the tomahawk recoil from hitting rock.

You were bashful as you repeated how Jake would always love you.

Guttural breaths getting louder with effort each hit, he kept slamming it down until everything was his beautiful little sweet girl.

Again.

Again and again and again and again and again until there was no resistance from the limb anymore and the man had gone silent and it was all mashed meat he was pounding—

And then he almost plunged it to your bleeding, battered corpse, your stomach covered in reddish brown from the dried brown, body ashen blue, and Jake cried out in terror, jumping back and losing strength in his legs as the tomahawk flew from his hand and he fell over.

His lungs constricted, refusing to take any breaths in and his heart ricocheted around in his ribcage, he was gaping at the wall of rock now washed red as if it was some white rose painted red in Alice in Wonderland.

Jake sat there for the longest time, dissociated.

In those moments, he wasn’t Toruk Makto, he wasn’t Olo’eyktan, he wasn’t the pillar of a family of seven. He was simply Jake Sully.

However, he wasn’t allowed to be stripped down to the bone until all that’s left was a mourning father. That was Jake’s reality.

He had to cast the crippled man aside, the tragedy of his child away, and bring the leader of the People out right as your ghost rippled in his vision, watching spitefully within the forest — because all you wanted was for him to be your father, and he couldn’t even fucking do that after your death.

This avatar was a valuable asset, a hostage to question. For the sake of his people.

He wasn’t allowed revenge.

A single drop of tear rolled down expressionless face. When he looked down, Jake’s hands were still stained with your blood.

The only instance a child should be covered in blood is when they come out of their mother’s womb, little lungs being burned with existence for the first time, crying from the pain of being separated from Eywa’s arms, birth mother a complete stranger to them.

The gore of you barely clinging to life, unmoving, drenched in your own blood, wiped and wiped to the point Neytiri had to change buckets of water until it turned light pink was overlapping with the joyful image of your newborn self she had lovingly and gently cleaned of the remains of labor with wetted mothsilk, skin too sensitive for water for the moment, the blue coming alive as the blood and other clotted bodily fluids were cleansed.

It wasn’t the broken, ice-cold, lithe body of a young girl Neytiri had cleaned in the torment of her excoriated, unraveling mind, it was her baby’s. Her baby, her poor baby with a gaping hole in the middle of your body, memories marauding Neytiri’s lucidity.

She lived the moment of your first cleansing over and over again.

You were a particularly indomitable cryer, Neytiri had known you would be infamous for your battle cries right as she was brought back from the blackout of post-birth by your overly-healthy wailing — or perhaps you would best Ninat as a singer when you’d unapologetically blossom, but one thing was ascertained: her first daughter was a fierce, fiery blue ball of ardor compared to Neteyam, who was almost shy and reluctant in disturbing people around him in his weeping that a collective worry for his health had plagued the whole clan.

As you squirmed, smeared in chunks of her flesh and blood, as if you wanted to jump off from her arms and start walking already, Neytiri had smiled up at her Jake, your father, unable to take his eyes off you, stuck between awe and laughs that came and went. “She has your heart,” she’d told him, spent and hurting, but wonderfully alive. “Strong.”

He’d traced his thumb through her drenched hairline. “Lungs, you mean?” His scent, wind and hearthfire, had enveloped Neytiri when Jake had leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I think they’re yours.” The teasing about how you had made Neytiri scream in labor wouldn’t have gone unpunished if she wasn’t on the edge of sleep held up only by your crying, so, he’d gotten a light hit on the side of his face instead. But Jake knew how to apologize, he’d always been spectacular at it. “I’d say she takes after me in appearance, look at her little ugly face.”

To Neytiri, you were beautiful, face dark purple from how strong you were screaming, and a mini-village elder with the wrinkles, swinging those little fists — things that made you lovely in her eyes. Her first daughter.

She had learned motherhood from Neteyam, but she would learn to understand her mother and her choices through you, someone she thought couldn’t be more different from her — Neytiri, all Mo’at could have been, and Mo’at, all Neytiri might have become, once. She prayed you would love her as much as she’d begun to love you the second you were in her arms.

To think the enormity of her love hadn’t reached you — it was one of the greatest failures of Neytiri’s life. If it had, you’d be wounded, but perfectly conscious and well in her mother’s tent. If it had, you would have been beyond comfortable telling those demons had hurt you.

In that all-consuming devastation, the woven towel she was using to wipe the thin sheet of sweat that formed on your body slipped from her uncoordinated hands and fell on your chest, and Neytiri had to hold back the breath that spiked to become a hiccup by covering her mouth, and immediately, her curled hand was engulfed in a smaller, five-fingered one. She came eye-to-eye with Kiri after raising her head, putting her other hand on hers at the girl’s more disheveled and messy self, heart dropping to her stomach at the fatigue varnishing an extra layer of moisture in her daughter’s drooping eyes.

“Oh Kiri,” Neytiri mumbled, caressing her cheek and brushing the tangled hair away from her face.

“Why don’t you go get some rest, mom, hm?”

“Even if I somehow agreed to that, I could never agree to leaving my daughter alone in this.”

“I’m fine.” Stopping to take a breath, she sighed, collecting the towel and starting to fold it. “Well, not really fine, but don't worry about me. We’re all miserable here. And that’s natural.” Fiddling with the corners of the cloth, she leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, light reflecting from the yellow of her irises making it look like they shone from within. “I… I know she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Eywa has bestowed us a gift she has never given to anyone before and it’s for a reason. I feel that everything will be set right.” She shook her head up and down, determined. “Dad will do it. I know he will.”

Neytiri trusted Kiri with her intuition and understanding when it came to the inscrutable intentions of Eywa, she was closer to the Great Mother than any Tsahik was — so close that she would drift away too much from her family. And deep down, Neytiri was heartsick by this invisible line that separated her from her daughter, any parent in her place would be unsettled like this.

She was also hog-tied to close the distance growing between them because of the human boy Spider and how she would find camaraderie in him in their ‘orphan’ status as she called it. Kiri was already faraway in her obscure existence and unwittingly separated herself as if she didn’t see herself as a real part of the family some days, and Neytiri hated that the ‘kinship’ she’d formed with Spider was planting these ideas into her head when she was her and Jake’s daughter, no more, no less. To overwrite those feelings, she tried so hard to reach Kiri, but was unsettled by the feeling of being hated sometimes, again, more or less for her stance in placing Spider at the outskirts of their family.

But oftentimes Kiri would express her affection through small, otherwise unnoticeable actions, just like this one, a caring touch and reassurance that could melt an ice cube — and Neytiri basked in the babiest of steps between them. And maybe this was how Jake had it with you, too, she had never thought about it like this before.

Taking in Neytiri’s solemn silence, Kiri grumbled, suddenly agitated about something. “I just… I just wish I had isirka resin and xhikul seeds for this paste and cover her wound with it. Grandmother’s extract isn’t enough to stimulate the bone marrow and ugh—” The girl groaned with the obvious guilt at groaning in the first place, as well. “I’m sorry, mom, I don’t know what—”

“It’s alright, Kiri,” Neytiri said, weariness blending with tenderness, knowing you’d agree too. You would have probably told her to not waste her energy and wait around when there wasn’t anything left to do anyway. “Maybe it’s you who needs some rest. You’ve worked hard. Harder than any of us. You do need rest, too.”

Kiri was quick to refuse. “I’m trying something new, I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sure one of your brothers—”

Her earpiece buzzed alive. “Neytiri, do you read me?”

The unexpected timing of it caught her off guard, her hand flying up to the device, drums of alarm going off in her head by the croaky, despondent note to his voice. The impact of their previous argument evaporated from existence just by hearing his distress. “Jake?” She focused on you, not observing any difference, and frowned in worry, her pulse picking up pace as Kiri also locked her attention to her the moment she heard her father was on the line. “What happened?”

“I have here one of Quaritch’s dreamwalkers—whatever they are.” Neytiri’s mouth opened and closed at the reveal, forehead creasing. “Alive. Somehow survived to get to the Tree of Souls.”

Her hand instinctively descended to touch your cool and clammy arm closest to her. “Tree of Souls…? But you were—”

“Yeah. Yeah, he… I couldn’t. I couldn’t…”

She stared at your face, all thoughts draining from her mind. “What are you saying, Jake?”

Silence.

“Jake,” Neytiri implored, her voice snuffed out towards the end. She tried again. “Jake, I don’t understand. What does this mean..?”

“Son of a bitch pulled me out before I could… before I could finish talking to her.” Kiri reached for her when she let out an incoherent, disbelieving voice, getting more panicked as Neytiri clawed at her tightening chest with his next words. “I failed, Neytiri. I couldn’t… She…”

Neytiri was physically helpless to respond, and Kiri couldn’t hold back from inquiring seeing the state she was in. “Mom? Mom! What’s wrong?”

“This man, if it wasn’t for this man, I had it.” Jake kept talking at an increasing speed the longer Neytiri didn’t say anything. “I had her right in my arms, making future plans, smiling, everything was perfect, and then he—” His breath quivered. “He fucking—” And he stopped the sentence abruptly to get some semblance of control back because Eywa knew Neytiri was losing it ever so slowly. “I need you here with me right now, please. Please, I…”

Neytiri refused to acknowledge what Jake couldn’t say out loud. You were still breathing, she felt your chest rise and fall even if the pattern was weak. You had life left in you. Jake saying he failed made no sense to her, she didn’t believe it.

“Neytiri, I need to question this… this filth, need to learn all I can about what’s going on, but I can’t do it on my own. I’ll kill him. In a heartbeat. I want to squeeze the life out of him with my hands right this moment and I— I can’t… We have to know how they could have gotten this far, what they’re planning—and now right to the Tree of Souls too, and…” The rambling that got chaotic and disconnected faded off eventually, as if he’d lost his voice. “Shit.”

And throughout all that, Neytiri had gone from confused, in denial, at the threshold of grief but not nearly in there anchored by your pulse, and lusting for blood within minutes. Kiri was taken aback by the anger radiating from her. “Bring him here!”

“I can’t. He could have a tracker on him—they could have put it in his body. I can’t risk that.”

Neytiri stood up with only one thing in her mind, and it didn’t match Jake’s. “Where are you?”

“You gotta let me pass, buddy, come on! You wanna take my head off or something? Why are you being like this!”

Hands up and quick on his feet, Lo’ak was trying to negotiate.

With an ikran of all things. Not even his.

Yours.

Mom storming out like a wronged, vengeful spirit had been the perfect chance for him to do a quick supply run sneak off, but your overgrown big bird with the exact same attitude as you was getting in his way and blocking Lo’ak off by snapping its jaw at his head and opening its sunset fire tinged wings every time he attempted to cross over to his own ikran. They were basically at a standstill and he had no idea why.

Lo’ak just wanted to help. Help you.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Shit.

Neteyam. Making his way to him with such speed that got his braids swinging and of course he’d sniffed Lo’ak out like a nantang. Followed the odd silence, probably. Eywa, he should have thought this out better.

“Skxawng, do you not remember what dad said?”

“I do,” Lo’ak hummed and hawed, and that was the problem. He’d never felt this guilty about disobeying dad’s orders before, it was making him squirm. “But look, Kiri said she needed isirka resin and xhikul seeds or whatever to treat her, I’m going—”

Neteyam’s jaw had flexed when he said whatever, but there was no visible agitation after he gave a sharp breath through his nose. “So let’s call mother or—”

“They’re busy with some sky person dad caught—”

“I know. The same ones who did this to our sister. I know, Lo’ak.” Neteyam aggressively gestured to the exit of the cave system, shaking his arm while speaking. “What do you think will happen if you go off on your own and land yourself in bigger trouble than she did? Huh?”

Lo’ak threw resentful looks at your ikran. “I can’t stay put like this. I have to do something.”

“This again? There is nothing we can do.” He hadn’t said that in his normal drilling of dad’s orders — Neteyam had the same pain of acceptance that were Lo’ak’s bruises etched onto his face.

And that made Lo’ak want to throw up all over the place. He’d experienced countless sicknesses his siblings had fallen to over the years, none of those were as fatal as this and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. What was he supposed to do when his sister was dying? What did one do when a family member was in this situation anyway? Nothing seemed right to him.

And something was finally, finally within his power — and Lo’ak would of course rise up to the challenge without hesitation. He wasn’t just going to sit down and let that possibility of your salvation slip by. “But there is. Kiri said—”

“Lo’ak if you leave right now and somehow get caught dad will never trust you again. He was the most open he’s ever been, don’t betray him like that.”

He was getting annoyed that Neteyam was ignoring the whole point, though it wasn’t as if Lo’ak didn’t know. He was fully aware, and that’s why this was supposed to be a secret. Dad couldn’t be hurt by what he didn’t know now, could he? Not only were you getting Kiri’s remedy, which he was sure as his name was Lo’ak that would end up most effective, but he also wasn’t breaking his promise to dad when the tiniest thread of trust in his son was knotted by the man just recently.

Neteyam grabbed him by the top of his head in a brotherly manner but his hold was of steel, the boy tried to grumpily push him off but he didn’t budge, staring right into his soul. “Use what’s in this for once and just tell dad or mother, they’re down in the forest already anyway.” When he let go, Lo’ak stumbled back, rubbing the sting off, and the semi-playful older brother was back. “And one of them will actually know what to look for.”

His immediate response was refusal. “I know what I’m looking for—”

“What does isirka look like?”

The sounds your ikran was making was eerily close to laughter and Lo’ak felt heat rush up to the tips of his ears. “It’s a tree.”

Neteyam didn’t have brow hair like Lo’ak did, but the way he raised the lines was always more expressive than how he did it. “Xhikul, then?”

“Flower, skxawng.”

“Wrong.” Lo’ak’s tail started beating the air at the condescending tone. “Kiri is talking about the fruit. Xhika is its flower.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever—”

“Is it whatever?” Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulder and spun him around so rough that he got dizzy. “Are you calling my sister’s life whatever?”

Lo’ak was going to explode from how wrong this was going and how insistent Neteyam was to twist his words. “That’s not what I meant bro!”

“You are so careless.” Neteyam’s tail had shot up ramrod straight, the little bush of hair at the end of it all puffed up, ears perking in all directions. He wasn’t necessarily yelling but was tense all over, something he did whenever they were playing back in the day and he was about to pounce after staying still enough to implant a false seed of safety. “You don’t even think about what can happen if you were to bring a completely different ingredient! You don’t think!”

“Sorry that I’m trying to help! What are you doing?”

“Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe.” He pressed his lips together on a thin line, but couldn’t hold back whatever was bubbling inside. “I’m not losing another sibling, Lo’ak!”

Only a small gasp escaped Lo’ak when he opened his mouth in retaliation. He couldn’t have found his voice even if he found something to say to that rawness in return, anyway.

The gut-churning guilt doubled.

“Hey… I—”

“Go,” Neteyam whispered, tilting his head together with the lone word. “Since you’re dying to help, help Kiri. She’s exhausted. I don’t think grandmother will refuse.”

“What about you?” And there he goes again. Wrong words. Neteyam was looking more closed-off than before. “I’m not accusing or anything—”

“I can’t go in there.”

“What?”

“I can’t,” Neteyam took a deep breath and loudly let it go, tail deflating, the arch of it depressing as hell for some reason. “I can’t look at her.”

Neteyam just gave a forlorn smile in return to Lo’ak’s heavily concerned looks demanding he continue but not knowing how to word it, his back looked weirdly lonely as he was tending to your significantly calmer ikran to join back the horde.

Buried in negative thoughts all the way back and ignoring the pitiful looks from the rest of the clan, he met Kiri outside of the healing tent talking to Spider, and he could see Tuk’s back covering the view to you in his peripheral.

They were whispering about something and it was obvious even from a distance where they were nothing but stick figures. At least try to look less suspicious, Lo’ak thought.

The only part he caught from the conversation was Spider saying, “Just describe them to me,” — Kiri was really leaning in towards him.

“What’s going on?”

The two looked like they were caught in the middle of scheming, and it clicked almost immediately.

If Lo’ak had thought of going off on his own, so had they.

“You aren’t going anywhere, bro,” he said, draping his arm across the human boy’s shoulders. “Neteyam’s literally patrolling.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Spider groaned, visibly disappointed. It warmed Lo’ak’s heart to see he was totally down for sneaking off the camp for you. “You said your dad told him to rest.”

“Yeah, he did. Except Neteyam never rests. He has a dancing glow worm up his ass.”

The conversation couldn’t continue because Kiri did a double take at something.

“Tuk!” Kiri took a few steps aside, squinting as if she didn’t think she was seeing it right. Then her expression burst into panic, her hands flying forward as she ran to the tent, Spider and Lo’ak could only stare, baffled. “Tuk, oh Eywa, what are you doing!—”

“I’m giving her water, she’s thirsty.”

“What?”

He actually rushed to the entrance of the tent, nearly falling headfirst in, having stumbled on some rock. Your mouth was actually open. And Tuk was really trying to get you to drink from the bowl she was holding against your mouth.

You choked at one point, still unconscious, but it was a sign of life. Lo’ak didn’t know if the shocked screech came from him or Kiri.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul

@eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

4K notes · View notes

luxaofhesperides · 4 months

Text

Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!

Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.

He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.

What Duke gets instead isn’t even words.

Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.

“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”

He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.

“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,

Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”

Jason looks him over critically, then nods.

Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing.

This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.

He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.

For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.

He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.

And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.

Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white.

Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.

Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.

Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws.

The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all.

The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope.

“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.

Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.

“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”

Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”

“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”

“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”

“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.

“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”

Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”

Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room.

“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”

Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others.

Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.

Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape.

Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.

The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic.

His left hipbone burns.

Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.

The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.

And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.

“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.

“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”

The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”

“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”

“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”

The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room.

“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.

He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”

“You—what?”

“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.

Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”

In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances.

“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”

“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”

Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”

“And you dreamed of me.”

“I did.”

“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”

“Okay.”

“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“I’ll help,” Phantom says.

“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”

“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”

Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”

“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”

“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”

“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”

There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.

Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.

“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”

“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”

Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”

“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again.

“Let’s go find them, then!”

They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together.

The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now.

He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #when its the end of the world but youre soulmate is here and ready to help fix it #meanwhile constantine had gone ON and ON about how dangerous summoning realms beings are #and all the precautions they have to take and how to be specific when making deals etc etc #it was supposed to be only the justice league but with the world ending they wanted their proteges and allies with them in case things #went wrong w the summoning. and with the rest of the bats helping out in gotham and around the east coast #signal gets to join batman. plus hes got his meta powers that could help in the worst case scenario #NO ONE predicated signal and the GHOST KING being SOULMATES #batman leaves for gotham immediately. updates the rest of the team w 'ghost king successfully summoned. he's signal's soulmate.'#and does not respond to ANYONE after dropping that bomb on them lol #they do all get to meet phantom when they join forces to find whatever doomsday cult caused all this #and the world gets saved!!#also. semi related to all this. the speedesters are gone bc time went wacky and they tried to fix things. but then the speedforce kinda #came to life and trapped them. so they have been lowkey eaten by the speedforce bc the speedforce is the true eldritch monstrosity here #anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#working on ur other two prompts now :)

1K notes · View notes

gyuuberryy · 4 months

Text

mischief (definitely not) managed!

pairing: enemy!heeseung x reader

summary: you stumble upon heeseung in a late night adventure through the halls of hogwarts. what follows next is completely unexpected, but maybe not unwanted.

genre: hogwarts au, e2l?, angst, fluff

warnings: making out(kinda), flirty heeseung, simping, magic stuff ig

note: i literally rushed through this fic so i could make up for the time it’s taking to write jungwon fic. besides, i’ve seen way too many heeseung edits on tt and can’t stop thinking about him. i hope you like this!

word count: 2kish

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

it was a regular day. you woke up, had a basic breakfast, and went to classes where nothing special happened—just the usual tasks and lectures. the evening was ordinary too, with a simple dinner and some time spent with friends before it was curfew for all the students. nothing stood out; it was just a plain, ordinary day.

you lay in bed, staring blankly at the cream coloured ceiling above you. it had been three hours since you had laid down to sleep, but unfortunately you found no success in succumbing to it. groaning, you sat up and clutched your head due to sleep deprivation. looking around the room you noticed that all of your roommates were sound asleep. huffing in slight envy, you shuffled out of bed and poured yourself a glass of water.

gulping down the cool liquid, you looked outside the room’s window. soft streaks of moonlight cast the grounds in an ethereal glow. by the shuffling of leaves on the nearby trees you could tell that it was breezy as well. maybe you should go out for a little bit? it will definitely be relaxing.

you knew it wasn’t allowed but you were too exhausted to care. if you didn’t manage to get at least five hours of sleep, you wouldn’t be able to function the next day. making up your mind, you slid on your slippers, grabbed your wand and silently opened the door to your room and slipped out.

you were just leaving your dorm’s entrance when something swished past you with remarkable speed. your eyes widened as you stopped in your tracks and looked around. there was no one in the dimly lit corridor except for you. frowning, you resumed your walk towards the open grounds. a few moments later, a loud whooshing sound on your right made you look there questioningly. slowly, you took baby steps in that direction, your eyes widened when you heard a low growl.

curiosity took over you as you wondered what was happening. determined, you quietly walked into the direction where the sound was coming from. you were just about to peek into a classroom, when you were suddenly pulled behind the wall next to it. your back hit a sturdy chest and you were just about to scream before a warm hand covered your mouth.

a voice rasped softly into your ear, their warm breath hitting your nape “what are you doing here?”

you could recognise that voice from a mile away. it was none other than lee heeseung, the bane of your existence. your biggest rival. the handsome boy was always around you, never giving you a second to breathe peacefully, always annoying you and making fun of you. of course, you always quipped right back at him, never letting him win. it definitely is very hard to get him off of your back, because he was here with you also, the time where he was supposed to be sleeping in his dorm.

you were slowly becoming aware of the arm wrapped tightly around your waist. cheeks heating up at the proximity, you whacked his arm and pushed him away from yourself.

“that’s none of your business lee”, you hissed.

unimpressed, he just raised an eyebrow at you. looking you up and down, he smirked.

“nice outfit.”

you mentally groaned as you realised you were still in your nightwear which consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts. you frowned when you noticed that heeseung was in his school robes. stupid heeseung, he always has to be the best at everything doesn’t he.

ignoring his comment, you whispered in a frustrated tone, “what are you doing here? it’s not like you’re supposed to be here either”.

“the same thing you are here for.”

a serious expression took over your face as you stepped closer to him. “you heard those noises too?”

he nodded and looked at the wall beside him as if he could see what was going on in the classroom behind it.

you only shook your head at him and turned away, ready to walk out, “well, i don’t know why you pulled me here, but i’m going to check out what’s happening in there.”

before you could move, he grabbed your arm once again.

“are you mental? you can’t just walk in there!”

you frowned at his foolishness, “i’m not going to walk in there genius.” you pressed your lips, “i’m going to secretly watch them.”

shaking his hand off your arm, you went to do exactly what you had just said. situating yourself right next to the doorway of the classroom, you listened for the voices. it seemed like they were facing the other way, making your hideout spot perfect to not be seen.

once you felt it safe, you slightly peeked through the crack of the door. it was very dark but you vaguely made out two silhouettes standing at the corner of the class. suddenly, a shadow loomed over you and you rolled your eyes in annoyance as you realised the taller boy had followed you and was now doing what you were.

a few minutes passed as you watched what the two shadowy figures did inside the room. they were muttering some sort of a spell which created a small glowing ball of red light that hovered in the air before them. it made weird gurgling noises and let out occasional growls. it was quite creepy to be honest.

“whoa, that’s definitely illegal”, heeseung mumbled from above you.

you remained silent, trying to figure out what they were trying to do. you vaguely remember reading something about a spell which created that glowy thing. you were lost in your thoughts, when suddenly the ball burst and expanded into a red glow across the room.

in shock, heeseung clutched onto your arm and dug his nails into it. you groaned and whipped your head to your side to look up at him.

“can you stop being such a weakling.”

“i just got startled okay!” he frowned, “why are you being so grumpy today?”

“that’s because you’re everywhere i go!” you snapped meanly, “i wanted to do this by myself, but no, you just had to be here as well.”

a moment of silence passed between you two, you growing uncomfortable by the second at the way heeseung was looking at you. there’s no way he felt hurt by your words right? you both do this all the time.

before you could say or do anything, he narrowed his eyes at you and spoke in a low tone, “fine then, i’ll get out of your business.”

he was turning around to walk away, but he tripped over your foot because of the way he was positioned behind you. he fell on the smooth marble floor with a loud thud, making you gasp and drop your wand at the sudden sound.

you both looked at each other in fear as you heard sounds of shuffling come from the classroom behind you. they had heard the commotion.

you quickly grabbed your wand and extended a hand out towards heeseung, “we have to hide, now!”

immediately, he grabbed your hand and pulled you behind the same wall as he had done earlier. your eyes widened in fear at his actions.

“this is not a good place you dimwit-”

“trust me”, he whispered to you, “we don’t have enough time to-”

just as the sound of the classroom door being opened was heard, heeseung pinned you to the wall and smashed his lips against yours. your eyes momentarily widened before you realised what he was doing. playing along, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

his lips moved against yours furiously and in a rushed manner as he seemed to take out all the pent up frustration on you. you kissed him back with similar intensity, your legs feeling like jelly when he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you, making you both impossibly closer. this was just supposed to be pretence, why is he literally making out with you?

suddenly, a voice whispered ‘lumos’ right next to you both, making you pull apart from each other in a haste. you gasped for breath as you looked at heeseung’s appearance; his blonde hair was sticking out in every direction (he looked really cute), his lips were shiny and swollen, cheeks flushed a deep colour of cherry. you were sure you looked something similar, making your cheeks heat up even more.

“what are you both doing here!”, the person next to you angrily spoke out.

you turned to look at the culprit who was none other than your professor for defence against the dark arts. you weren’t very surprised, he always gave off weird and evil vibes. he was definitely doing something shady.

neither of you said a word, waiting for him to make the next move.

the professor walked closer to you both and snarled, “you’re committing acts of public display of affection, during curfew that too!”

heeseung smiled at him sweetly as he said the next words, “but sir there’s no public here is there?”

you could literally see smoke coming out of the professor’s ears as his breathing grew heavy. you elbowed heeseung in the ribs and glared at him in warning but he just grinned back at you playfully. you sighed and turned back towards the man in front of you.

“we’re extremely sorry professor, this won’t happen aga-”

“back to your dorms, both of you” he yelled, interrupting you, “and fifty points from both of your houses!”

you grabbed heeseung’s hand and immediately scurried off, no longer wanting to stand in the presence of the angry professor. while on your run away from him, you almost stopped at the sight of a silhouette of a boy covered in school robes in one of the corridors. you frowned at that. that must be the second person from the room.

slowing down to a stop once you got far enough, you tried removing your hand from his, but he didn’t let you and tightened his grasp instead. you looked up at him in question to see his doe eyes staring back at you in worry.

“are you okay love?”

you were sure you were going to combust on the spot from the endearing nickname he used for you. since when did that start?

“i’m fine”, you cleared your throat and looked anywhere but his eyes, your eyes unwantedly dropping down to his lips that were still a deep shade of pink from making out the kiss.

you immediately looked away, but it was too late. he had already noticed that. he smirked and walked towards you, making you back up till your back hit the wall behind you. he put up an arm beside your head and leaned down till he was towering over you only by a little.

“you’re a good kisser, you know that?”

you gulped in nervousness as you stared back up at him. the close proximity was really not helping you hide it. he lowly chuckled at the change in your behaviour from your usual confident attitude. the low tone of his voice reached your ears, making your stomach do flips. in a feeble attempt to hide your attraction, you looked to your left where his arm was caging you in and almost drooled at the sight of veins bulging out from it. why is lee heeseung so unbelievably hot?

your eyes widened at his next words as he continued from the compliment.

“wanna do it again?”

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fics #heeseung oneshots #kpop fics #hogwarts au #enhypen hogwarts au #ady_writes

985 notes · View notes

lady-ashfade · 2 months

Text

Strange Dream.

Prince Zuko x Spirit!Human!Reader

-♡ I just had a thought and ran with it. Haven’t watched the show in so long so not the best expert. But my dad remembers it all- anyway. Idk what I’m doing with this.

-♡ words: 564

-♡ warnings: defensive zuko, kinda fluffy.

the forest was cold and wet, the only thing to keep him comfort was knowing his uncle was beside him. but still, he didn’t feel like himself anymore after hearing what his father & sister had been planning. he worked himself to the edge each day hoping to go home and be welcomed back to take his place by his father. and yet there was no truth to that promise.

his eyes feel shut when he laid down by the fire, he was so drained. the past few days and have been hell for them. he wanted to let his thoughts go and the painful stabbing at his heart fade so he slept peacefully.

and he didn’t expect to be awaken with the feelings of a warm and caring hand on his cheek. zuko shot up from the ground and startled the person kneeling over him with wide eyes. the stranger jumps back while he raising his hands and ready to burn them. but there was something about them, they didn’t seem dangerous but in fact…strange.

their clothes were silk white and their eyes made him feel warm underneath their gaze, like he wasn’t a monster at all but something to be understood.

just before he could ask them a question the area he was in had him look around. it was hazy and more beautiful, the trees greener and he could feel natural energy on his skin. his uncle was no where to be seen but neither was the small camp they had set up.

“Where am I?” he spoke with growing concern. the person smiles and titles their head up at him.

“You’re sleeping, but at the moment I am here. in your mind.” you open your hands to show the area. this forest was special to your people and when a soul needs guidance you are willing to help.

“Tell me, is there something I can help you with?” your soft smile and happy attitude made him hesitate to let you in. who in the hell were you? and why did he feel so drawn to you…

“No, I have everything under control. So you can leave.” Your face didn’t drop a bit as you continued to sit there and look up at him with beautiful eyes. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to.” his eyes glare down at you and he sighs in frustration. and you knew right then he was going to be a hard cookie to crack but you liked a challenge.

“Just leave me alone! Get out of my head.” He hit his head slightly while raising his voice but his tone didn’t scare you. you had many like him before but they all caved. all they needed was a ear to listen.

“Know this, prince Zuko. Many have denied what they needed and came to ruin, you’ll let me in sooner or later.” letting out a breath as your fingertips start to light up underneath your skin.

“And I’ll be here willing to listen.” you point your fingertip at him.

Zuko doesn’t have time to answer before he starts falling backwards towards the ground only to not meet the stern ground but to be reawaken. he was no longer sleeping but back in the wet forest with his uncle giving him a curious stare.

it was a strange dream, with a even stranger person.

#avatar the last airbender x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #prince zuko fics #zuko comfort

809 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 4 months

Text

(dash)ing through the snow • e. jaeger

synopsis: not even the holidays can give you peace from your favorite headache of a DoorDash driver but honestly, you wouldn’t want it any other way!

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), food play, lots of fluff and humor, bits of angst, heavy kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, alcohol mentions, handjob, riding, drunk sex, sub eren (he moans a lot), calls reader mama and baby, creampie

word count: 5.7K

📝: hope everybody enjoyed their holidays, whether you’re celebrated alone, with family, friends or fur babies. Or maybe not even at all..either way, I hope y’all are taking care of yourselves for the rest of the year. 🫶🏾🤍 this IS coming a day late cause mama’s got chronic pain + illness and when it hits, it’s like a truck so I was been out since 10PM yesterday on pain meds with a fever too so I’m posting now. Hopefully the Christmas spirit hasn’t left yet. I’m sorry I got y’all hopes up for it yesterday! 😭

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

The holidays..a time that by all accounts should invoke cheer and joy into the hearts of everyone. An occasion for celebration, love and laughter. Being surrounded by those you cherished dearly, enjoying the food, gifts and just the warmth that Christmas brought forth. However, that wasn’t the case for everyone, including (y/n) (l/n), who would be spending their day alone for the second year in a row. All but deduced to living on your own, you had only spoken to your roommate via FaceTime, where she explained that she’d be staying behind to help out the family business over the busy holiday rush and your own relatives, two states away despite not being particularly close to any of them. It still would’ve been nice to have someone around to share the day with. Growing up, Christmas was a staple in your household and it was by far, your favorite time of the year. Decorating the tree and wrapping gifts, making delicious food and even baking cookies for Santa. Now it seemed that the whimsical, childhood spark had all but dwindled..a sham of a holiday that you didn’t care for anymore..however, if your favorite nuisance had anything at all to do with it and if you knew him, you wouldn’t be left by your lonesome for too long!

“I’m so sorry, (y/n)! I thought I’d be back in time but they still need me. I swear I’ll make it up to you..”

“It’s fine, boo! Don’t worry about me..be with your folks and enjoy yourself, okay? I’m fine, trust me.” Which helped quell your best friend and roommate’s unease a little. As of late, you seemed to be in much better spirits. Genuinely smiling as opposed to the fake one you were obviously forcing. You hadn’t exactly divulged the secret to her about you and your little rendezvous with the delivery driver. Out of fear of embarrassment or the sheer fact that the two of them didn't exactly get along. Not only did they go to high school together but she used to straight kick his ass in any sport he even dared to try. Although beautiful and girly at times, she had quite the tomboy side to her. She’d first learned of his identity, the annoying DoorDasher who kept magically ending up with your orders, when she came back around Halloween. He was in for a rude awakening when the five foot eight girl with tattoos and short hair answered the door. Knowing damn well she was the last one to try with his bullshit antics!

“If you want to keep your job and your legs, you’ll hand me that bag and get your ass out of here.” A threat that was certain to come to fruition messing with her. It was the only time you’d gotten peace. Of course, the second she boarded that flight, he was talking cold hard shit! “Man, ain’t nobody scared of her. She ain’t gone’ do nothing to me..” still, it didn’t deter him from keeping away from his favorite customer and new boo. Especially because he knew that although you had told your friend that you were just fine..you were probably sulking on the couch. The feeling of loneliness setting in..and the realization that you were about to spend another holiday by yourself. That was unless he came and saved the day..it wasn’t a full five minutes after the conclusion of your call before you’d be greeted by a faint knock at the door. Followed by that of a text..

“I should’ve known..”

you’d peer down at your phone screen, illuminated with the notification and the time; ten thirty pm. Considered late by any other standards but the perfect hour for the antics you were certain was about to ensue. Having brought some liquor and eggnog earlier in the day when you finally had some free time for the holidays. Having some much needed time off. It felt good to not have to depend on someone else to deliver your items. But alas, you wouldn’t be scot free of the man who had all but flipped your mundane life upside down in these past eight months. Making these humdrum days far more exciting, whether you wanted to admit so or not. The ever so lively Eren Jaeger..your doordasher and as of late, newest fling. After what was set to be a wonderful outing with a Tinder date, you were unfortunately stood up and left with only regret and disappointment. However, rather than annoying you with his usual nonsense, he showed a much different side. One that was far more mature and nurturing than what had been previously displayed. As fate would have it, you’d find yourselves trapped inside due to a nasty rainstorm. And before the night’s end..not only were you over the betrayal by the potential date but thanks to Eren, you were also left feeling highly satisfied; courtesy of the several orgasms he invoked out of you that night! From the kitchen counter where he jolted you around on his fingers, slowly kissing and reminding you just how beautiful you were to making love underneath the sounds of pouring rain in your bedroom..a space delegated solely for yourself. Nibbling at your ear and giving you slow backshots as he pressed you flat to the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of one another and needless to say, it caused quite the shift in your once rocky dynamic. A shift that elicited more late night visits and constant texting afterwards. It made you realize that you truly hadn’t seen all of the layers of this once irritating guy who seemed to have been showing up on your step more frequently as of late. Shuffling over to the door, you’d stand to your tiptoes, peering from the small opening meant to screen guests before allowing them in.

“You gon’ let me in or I gotta stand out in the cold all night?”

“That depends. Do you have what I need?”

and of course, he would never be so foolish as to show up empty handed. Not when he was determined to woo the lady who had all but encompassed his psyche. Since the inception of your illustrious little, makeshift love affair, Eren had all but become infatuated. He was already smitten to begin with…loving the fact that you were so quick witted and matched his antics with a no nonsense attitude. Snapping at him when truthfully, you just needed someone to get rid of that stress. Regardless, you wouldn’t be worn down so easily!..if he truly wanted to pursue something with you outside of a customer-driver relationship, then he’d have to work hard to persuade you that he was worth the trouble. It was going to take more than some dick and sweet nothings to knock you off your game. For a moment, he fell silent. You figured he was back to his old antics.

“Baby, I always got what you need. All you have to do is ask. Besides, I’m not risking you whooping my ass because I forgot something.”

with that rather typical response, you’d unbolt the locks and allow him entry. “You are so aggravating.” But before he stepped over the threshold, you’d find his arm snaked around the small of your exposed back, due to the cropped tank top you were sporting and quickly tugged into an entrancing kiss. One that almost swept you from your feet. Even grasping a healthy portion of your asscheck amid the moment. You could tell that he was the type to not only capture a girl’s body but her mind and spirit as well. Despite not trusting him fully, you couldn’t pull away nor did you want to stop seeing him. Once again using the guise of needing a late night meal, you’d summon your faithful driver forth and he’d come bearing gifts. A bag filled with all sorts of delectable treats..ranging from strawberries, chocolate dip, whipped cream, ice cream and of course more of that spiced rum you both loved so much. On his shoulder, he brandished a black duffle; affectionately coined his ‘spinnanight bag’! Needless to say, he had no plans to leave for the time being and all of his devotion was on you.

“Like you’d actually be able to live without me.”

“Mmm..well I guess things would get boring without you around to get on my nerves, huh?”

flashing him a toothy beam, he’d scale your hips with gentle hands for a moment with a similar expression on his handsome face. That was the thing about Eren..despite his crass personality, he handled you with the utmost care. Something you weren’t used to…

“C’mon now, that’s my job..what I do best..” invoking chuckles from the both of you. By this time he had closed the door, securing it behind you both. Followed by the offering of a seat as you formally invited him inside of your home. “Yeah, well I paid you to bring my stuff so hopefully you got it right.” It was rather plain to see that he no longer considered himself a stranger in your life, accepting the warm invitation with open arms and acclimating himself into your space. He’d carefully observed it during the last two visits, but he truly couldn’t fathom how beautiful your apartment was. Clean, organized and so well coordinated despite the bright aesthetic with a mix of lavenders and pinks. Plants swaying and a humidifier steaming gently in the corner to help them keep warmth in the winter. The whole vibe seemed to suit you..

“Give me some credit now. I’m a professional, I don’t make mistakes..”

it was then that Eren would become interrupted in his tracks when he’d peer down at your coffee table..spotting the preset shot glasses before him. Faintly smirking to himself because it was fairly easy to see the type of time you were on!..things truly would never be the same between the two of you now..whilst you shuffled around in the kitchen, preparing some snacks, he’d begin making himself quite comfortable. Kicking off his shoes, pulling off his hoodie and and propping his feet up as if he belonged here. Your roommate would have a conniption if she saw that. He carefully observed the rest of the surroundings, including the adorable tree that you had so meticulously decorated. Lined with garland, glistening with ornaments and illuminated with bright lights..it was beautiful! He’d never seen one so carefully decorated since his own mom.

“What’s up with this tree?”

causing you to glance up, meeting his snarky expression as you chopped up some fruit. “Not too much on my tree, she’s cute. I worked hard on it.” Which only further brought him to hysterics because the thought of someone like you..someone as angry and uptight loving Christmas this much, so much so that between your already beautiful interior were gaudy decorations of snowmen and Santa. Little reindeer figurines strewn throughout the apartment..it was rather adorable, this side of you. He hoped to see it far more often. Chuckling to himself, Eren couldn’t help but to snicker at your reaction but it was purely from a wholesome perspective, not to make fun of you.

“Nah, you did a good job on it. On all of it actually.. aye, I’m even a lil’ jealous. I can’t get those dumbasses I live with to clean up sometimes, less known get a tree set up. At least somebody’s in the holiday spirit.”

he wasn’t lying either. Truth was, he too loved the holidays growing up and as he got older, Eren came to realize that many of his peers didn’t share the same sentiment. Many saw it as childish or just downright unnecessary at this age. Rather, they spent their holidays getting high and drinking, partying the nights away. It was fine to an extent but he missed the whimsical joy that this time of year brought forth. It was nice to see..

“Well I’m glad you think so. Not too bad to say I did it myself..my roommate’s been a lil’ salty with me because I put it up without her. But a Christmas tree being in my living room while trick or treaters were knocking would be insane.” To which he was inclined to agree. Although the uttering of your aforementioned roommate caused him to visibly shudder. “So, where is the she-devil? Still riding her broomstick through hell?” You had to catch yourself from laughing, not because he was poking fun at your best friend but because she put him in a headlock in the middle of the parking lot and Eren couldn’t escape. You were so hysterical, your sides hurt from laughter after she was finished. And at the time, you were so frustrated with him and his bullshit, it felt like some sort of penance for all the aggravation you had to endure. “Unt uh..I know you’re not still mad. Not when you ate half my burrito and then tried to play me in a game of rock, paper, scissors for my drink.” Reminding him of why the altercation started in the first place. “As hungry as I was that night too, yeah, you lucky a headlock was all you caught.” Swinging your knife with animated expressions as you chuckled. Naturally, he had no response whatsoever and truth be told, he couldn’t be mad that two pretty girls had bested him!

“I think you set me up, that’s what I think. But it’s all good..you wanna know why?” picking through the assortment of snacks that you had already set out with a smug grin on his face. Knowing that he was about to have you all to himself and there was nothing she could say. In truth, he felt as if he had the last laugh! Finishing up your assortment of delectables, you’d shuffle over; setting them down and then taking a seat next to him shortly thereafter. “Why’s that? Tell me..” “Because..” not even a full second before you acclimated on to the couch, you’d find your head tilted upright with his fingers underneath your chin. “I got what I wanted. I get to be with you. So I’d say I won.” Just barely grazing your lips together before you’d halt him with a gentle hand to the chest. It wasn’t for a lack of you feeling the same way about him and it certainly didn’t help matters any for you two to be sexually involved now but you were also apprehensive. What if this entire pursuit was some sick conquest for him? Proof that he could wear down the harrowing Ice Queen of Apartment Two Eighty Four. Maybe it was all a part of a bet he had made with friends that he could bag you..perhaps it was something he did all the time.

“That’s how you feel, huh?”

“I don’t think I can make it any clearer, mama. I mean, I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else right now..”

even so, you couldn’t let your fears hold you back from happiness! You can’t recall the last time you’d smile so much. Being around him brought forth a sense of peace that seemed unattainable. And now, here you were spending Christmas Eve with a man, who by all accounts was your sworn enemy almost a year ago. Now things were starkly different and you’d never look back. Either way it went..

“Well in that case, why don’t we get us some drinks?” “Now you talking. Besides, I know you don’t play about your food, so I brought plenty.” Earning him a snarky side eye in the process. He was still that same asshole he always was, it just now seemed far more charming! “Oh, so you got jokes? I’ll remember that.” “I crack myself up from time to time. Hey, what’s that?” And the instant you turned your head, searching for the imaginary object, shifting when you realized nothing was there..you’d find yourself entrapped in a kiss as he had craftily snuck something from his pocket. A tiny mistletoe he had been saving for the perfect moment. Dangling above your heads as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. His touch warmed you to your core..it felt so nice..

“Y’know, I’ve always wanted to do that. Definitely worth the wait..” immediately, you’d find yourself flustered and unable to gather your thoughts for a moment. You’d never been kissed like that, not once in your life. “You’re so corny.” Faltering into a snicker but immediately feigning with a light touch to his cheek. “But it’s cute. So I’ll let you slide.” With that declaration, the small scale festivities would commence and you two began what would become a night forever ingrained in your memories.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

an hour or so passed by, with you both indulging in all of the delicious treats he had brought over, including chocolate dipped strawberries that he’d swirl around before sticking between your lips and watching you on. Eventually taking a bite. Allowing him to lick the drinks from your collarbone with a trail of kisses that obviously turned you on. Sucking whipped cream from his fingers and vice versa..there was something rather sensual about all of it. Along with the whipped shots you took in conjunction with the several glasses of liquor..which hadn’t left either of you inebriated yet but you were slowly beginning to feel a bit of a buzz. Which in turn, had you both fawning over one another..lofi holiday tunes faintly hummed from the mounted television as the faux fireplace underneath from your mantle. You guys didn’t just engage in lecherous activity, you chatted it up quite a bit. Reminiscing on prior Christmases. Talking about life and your daily routines..it was really nice to have someone listen to you rant about the mundane. Brandishing your wine glass whilst your feet remained propped in his lap, you’d propose a rather invasive but necessary question.

“So, lemme ask you something..why did you want to spend Christmas Even with me? Of all people? And no, to fuck is not an acceptable answer.” “Well excuse me, but I think a little piece of pussy isn’t a bad gift at all. It’s quite thoughtful.” Prompting you to roll your eyes. He couldn’t be serious for once in his life and that much was certain.

“Can you not turn everything into a joke?..I was actually hoping I’d get to know you a little..what about your family?”

heeding that strict fervor in your voice that wouldn’t disappear anytime soon. With those tanned cheeks flush with red, a bit intoxicated from the Barcardi coursing his veins, as always..Eren flashed that coy smile, leaning his head back on the couch as he began to respond to your question.

“Truth is..my folks are in Germany right now. It’s where my dad’s from originally. He’s a first generation immigrant actually. He got offered a job working for their medical association and because both of his kids are grown as hell, he and my mom packed when I was nineteen. Been doing my own thing ever since. Honestly..I was before that. Skipping school, acting out..I was an asshole to them. Maybe it’s why they decided to leave me behind in the first place. They finally can get some peace. I don’t blame them though. It does make me miss them, especially this time of year. Makes you appreciate what you have when it’s not there. My mom’s cooking, seeing them open up gifts—“

just then, he’d find himself halted in his tracks and Eren would glance over, seeing that the expression on your face had shifted significantly. “My bad, guess I got carried away.” But in fact, you were happy that he had disclosed this to you. He was opening up and you were gaining a newfound respect. “Not at all..that’s really sweet, Eren. Sounds like they really mean a lot to you..” tracing a finger along the rim of your glass, peering down with a tinge of sadness. A hard lump forming in your throat that despite his ever vivacious smile, you could sense that it was a sensitive topic. Not only that, it made you think about your own family dynamic. Of course, he’d have to ask and get your dirt as well. That’s when you’d confide in him that you were twice as bad. Rather than delinquency, you threw yourself into studying..attending classes and eventually working full time. Desperate to make it out of your small town and into higher living. It was that same determination that drove you away from your family. Missing birthdays, holidays and important events, all for a job that didn’t give a damn about you and school work that could wait. After a while, they just sort of disowned you and didn’t bother inviting you at all.

“Damn, sounds like we’re both awful kids, huh?” Which could only be met with laughter because it was the truth. The hardest truth you’ve had to swallow in a long time. As quiet as it was kept, you were both one in the same. Two lonely people, lost souls yearning for comfort in someone else. His ‘friends’ were always doing their own things so he was by himself by the time he made it home. And even when they were around, he felt out of place. The girls he met were superficial and he had no interest in meaningless hookups anymore. Only difference was you coped with anger and he coped by being silly. Unfortunately, you’d end up in similar fates.

“Well, you’re not wrong..listen, Eren. I’m sorry I judged you. You just always seemed so….” “Arrogant? Carefree? Like I didn’t give a fuck about life?” All sentiments you’d be inclined to agree with. But there was a reason for it. “I wouldn’t say it was wrong. I always did have a way of getting under people’s skin and for a while, I didn’t care. But honestly, I just have fun. Doing something to keep a smile on mine and other people’s faces. Even if it does come off as irritating. Otherwise, I’d be walking around mad at the world..” “..like me, huh?” Something he hated to admit out of fear of offending you. But alas, he was right. “But it suits you. The whole ‘mean on the outside, soft on the inside’ thing is kinda cute. Deep down, I can tell you’re really a sweet girl. I guess what I’m tryna’ say is…I.really like being around you. And not just for your body. You make me happy, (y/n).”

with that declaration, you’d find yourself flush with a plethora of emotions. Tears brimming in your eyes; only mere seconds from falling. Crying because no one had ever spoken to you in such a way. So delicately and kindly. He had a way of seeing through what was nothing more than a surface level facade to protect yourself from getting hurt. Eren knew that all too well. But it was when he smiled at you..when he flashed that pearly white beam at you and leaned closer, cradling the back of your neck with such security and dominance, you wanted to melt right in his grasp. But you were also guarded. Steadfast in not wanting to let another person in only to be let down in the end. Even so, you’d take that leap and let the cards fall where they may.

“You make me really happy too, Eren..” moments later, without a single other phrase uttered, your lips would meet with a gentle crash. Both of your kids shut as you reveled in the long awaited moment. It felt like this every time with him. This invigorating, fiery spark that refused to die. Your tongues twirled around one another in a haze of sloppy pecks..lips lapping over the other and minute strings of saliva being exchanged in the midst. He couldn’t get enough..of your flavor, your essence..any of it. Shortly thereafter, your limbs would become tangled and you’d find yourself shifting onto his lap whilst he pulled you up. It was there that your hands absentmindedly roamed each other’s bodies. Scouring your frames to peel and quite frankly, tear off the binding articles of clothing. Only leaving your tank top on because he loved the way your breasts spilled from it. For the entire duration that you were being stripped down, your lips barely retracted and the heavy make out session only intensified with faint groans. Heavy whimpers even arising sporadically. Finally free of those confines, he’d plant heavy smacks and firm grasps on your ass whilst you straddled his still clothed crotch. As for his top half, you’d be met with chiseled muscles and a few tattoos sprinkled across his chest and torso. In addition to the plethora riddling his toned arms. Chewing at your lower lip, you’d break into a faint smile, admiring his body. Taking the time to delicately trace your fingertips along the outline of his pieces before running your hands to the back of his head. You’d feel his hand snaking around to grope your breasts but shortly after, he was halted when you gently clutched his wrist.

“Can I take care of you tonight?...you’ve already been so good to me..”

mouthing the phrase with a delicate and slightly higher pitched tone. Almost as to appear seductive but not in an obnoxious way..naturally, it worked and Eren would soon be left stumbling all over himself. “Would you like that?” Quivering when you’d trace your tongue around his earlobe, placing kisses on his neck right after. “Y-yeah, I would..do whatever you want to me, baby..” with his explicit consent, you were free to please him in anyway you saw fit. Rolling your hips around, lifting them by an inch to shuffle his pants down his legs. You would maneuver your own lower half so that you were now seated on his thigh. Left with only your thin panties, you’d massage that clothed slit and mound against his skin. Causing gentle friction and heavy arousal. There was something so sexy about using his thigh to get off..the sensation of your wet folds rubbing against his bare skin. Tossing his head back once more, you’d hear a breathy yet quick ‘fuck’ out of earshot. A sign that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. “That feel good?” Earning you more whimpers, which only further drove you to tease him more. You’d peer down and notice that his cock was twitching, jumping on its lonesome..twirling those nimble fingers around his shaft, (y/n) pumped it gently within your palm; slicking him up with strings of precum and saliva. It was blatantly obvious that he was becoming aroused, seeping all over your knuckles. You could even feel his leg underneath you thumping as that swollen bud continued to graze it. Your juices trailing down his flesh and between that and the subtle thrusting through your hand, he was about to lose his mind!

“Get on t—-ahhh..shit!”

that swollen mushroom tip emitting a bright red and oozing with the creamy substance as your movements sped up. Eren rested his hands against your hips, subtly guiding you along but you needed no assistance. You’d rotate your hips in a slow circular motion; grinding to bring yourself closer to a climatic peak as well. Neither one of you would be able to withstand this mounting pressure for much longer so amid toying with him, you’d question once more what it was he wanted. You wanted to hear explicitly what he wanted from you. Just the same as he did when you were feeling down. Not just pleasing him physically but healing his heart as well. Neither of you were lonely anymore..

“What was that? Tell me what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you?” Nearly babying him with that gentle voice, palm brushing against his face and that slow pace. He’d never been taken care of like this and needless to say, he couldn’t get enough! But you too were enjoying being in control; having that subtle dominance over him and being responsible for his orgasm..it was so hot. “(Y/N)…oh my God..” however, that just wouldn’t do..you wanted to hear his words, his explicit permission of how to proceed. Clutching his chin, you’d snatch it downward so that your faces could meet. “Look at me..say it. Tell me you want me to fuck you.” Although he was in by far the most vulnerable state he had ever been in, Eren was enjoying this so much more than you could ever imagine! That chiseled rising and falling with labored breaths. He couldn’t hold out, he had to have you!…

“Fuck me..please, ride this dick, baby.” Giving you the proverbial green light to take him as you saw fit. Shifting in a matter of moments, you’d propel yourself up and glide over to his lap; aligning yourself with his cock with a grasp on his shaft before slowly lowering yourself down on it. The initial sensation and slight ‘pop’ of entering your tightness caused both of you to release loud cries. Especially when you begin to bounce up and down..grazing his pecs and admiring that incredible body as you rode him with a moderate pace. The collision on that heavy ass against his pelvis, in combination with the open palm slaps to those round cheeks; the sounds of smacking resounding throughout the apartment along with his pathetic moans, that only further fueled your desire. At this point, you weren’t sure who was enjoying it more. A smile plastered on both of your lips and each set of your hands scouring the others frames. He’d even burst into a quivering chuckle. “Ohhh, my fucking gosh. This is the best fucking In the midst of that cunt clutching him, he’d make the haste decision to tug down your shirt..groping your breasts and alternating between each one to flick his tongue around those stiffened nipples. He was determined to ravage you, enjoy his fill while he was here.

“Just like that, mama..that pussy feels so fucking good. Keep going..”

soon, you’d plant your feet firmly into the mattress and amp up your movements. Showing him that a lot more lies in your repertoire. With your hands planted to his shoulder blades, you’d reacclimate and toss your head back in the midst of propelling yourself on that thick member. Stretching out that tight core and kissing the inner core of your cervix. “This dick is so fucking good..” Each thrusts touching your sensitive spot..meanwhile, Eren would enjoy the showcase that was your perky breasts bouncing with each movement. “Give it to me!..shit!” “Take it. Take this fucking dick..ohhh fuck!” His vocal pleas increase your stamina yet again and just when he thought you’d be fairly close, you’d surprise him. You’d even look back with your tongue gliding over your lips as it dangled from your mouth from being worked over. Eren was no different and with that pearlescent substance leaking down his shaft and wetness coating him, he was forced to clutch the couch’s arm as an attempt to quell his urge to release. “You gonna give me that nut, baby? You told me you’d always give me what I need..” with one more gentle graze underneath that chin, you’d bring him back to reality; only pausing momentarily to glare into his eyes. “You promise?” It truly shocked him how captivating you were and how well you commanded him. “Ye-yeah! I promise. I’ll do whatever you want..please! Just let me c-ahh!” Loud wails arising from his throat as he trembled in pre ecstasy bliss; something that felt so close yet foreign at the moment. But fortunately, you wouldn’t make him wait much longer.

“Then come for me..I’ll let you nut in it, baby..”

those words seemed to have invoked a feral energy in him and in turn, caused him to tighten his grasp on you whilst he fucked up into that dripping cunt until he emptied the sought after load into you. Letting out loud cries with tears streaming down his face because no woman had ever made him experience euphoria in such a way..it was no wonder you had him twirled around your finger. “FUCK! So good…you made me feel so good..” Filling you up with every drop from those round balls that had been slapping against your backside. Simultaneously, your own climax would come trickling down his rather sensitive member. “Good boy..I’m so glad I did. C’mere.” Rewarding him with a barrage of sloppy and passionate kisses. Kisses, touches and sensations he wouldn’t forget for a long time, if ever!

“I’m so happy I’m here with you. Merry Christmas..” his faint smile and tired glare were the only thing you could see and right there on that sofa, you’d cradle one another close. Topping his forehead with a smooch before nestling your face into his neck..obvious that neither of you wanted to let go..

“Merry Christmas, Eren. My love.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@buddhas-bunny @violetxxvenom @miyaluvvsyou @nieceeee @mochiviewz @momobaby227 @hoesluvshanti @spaceforher @lammys-thinking @thickbihhwitdagapp @jamaicanqueenaa @simplycmr @caramelswirlwithacherryontop @themidknightguardian @invisible-888 @hyunip @prettypixigrl

848 notes · View notes

heartss4val · 4 months

Note

hellooo! i was just binge reading all your works and immediately followed, and saw that you were taking requests soo i wanted to request a lil something!

it’s a percy x f!reader where they stay up late to wait for christmas together! scenario could preferably be on top of their apartment rooftop or smth, but i wouldn’t mind any other choices you’d like! thank youuu, once again i love your workkkk <3

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ MEET ME AT THE ROOFTOP | percy jackson x gn!reader [wc: 924] thank u anon for ur kind words, ur the sweetest!!

you had a couple ideas of where you'd be on christmas eve. tucked under the covers of the bed you and percy were sharing while you were over for the holidays, wrapping up last-minute presents, staying up late due to the surge of adrenaline, maybe?

you were pretty wrong about all of those.

"'just hope this year isn't as hectic as last," percy's voice cuts through your thoughts as he tosses rocks off the rooftop of the apartment complex, trying to hit a nearby tree.

you nod absently, hands fiddling with the red and green macaroni necklace that estelle had thrust into your hands the moment you stepped foot into the jackson household. the frigid wind bites at your skin, but you don't complain. percy, however, smushes your face into his shoulder, covering the remaining exposed part of your cheek with his hand.

as you nuzzle further into his warmth, percy glances at the blue, glowing watch that he'd picked up from a cornerstore years ago. it was old and looked like it had been through a war, but it still worked. "only three more minutes," he murmurs, holding up his wrist so you could see the neon blue numbers reading '11:57'. against the blackness of the night, the color was almost garish, but it was softened by the warm glow of christmas lights that adorned percy's neighborhood.

you smile, your lips dry and cracked from the cold. percy had brought you up here solely to be the first to give you your gift on christmas day. he and estelle had a running competition, and he couldn't present it to you in the house without her popping up from seemingly nowhere. the rooftop was the only place of privacy. it was technically cheating, but estelle had won for the past two years and percy was petty. the small gift box next to the boy didn't go unnoticed by you.

"you wanna try?" percy asks, handing you the rock he'd been about to throw. he still hasn't hit his target. you muttered a quiet 'yeah,' took a deep breath, and hurled the rock off the roof.

it hit the tree square on.

percy looked genuinely flabbergasted. mind-boggled, if you will. "you're sick," he says at last. "why would you do this to me?"

"you can defeat the god of war at the age of twelve but you can't hit a tree that's like, thirty feet away?" you retort, breath visible in the frigid air.

"take that back!" percy laughs, his knit beanie tumbling off his head as he tackles you to the rooftop ground, holding your face in his hands.

percy could be intimidating when he wanted to be, but up here, with a smile lighting up his face and his eyes sparkling with mischief, he was anything but.

"i'm gonna make you sorry," he warns.

"sorry for what?" you quip, breathless from the effort of holding him off when he wants to reach you this badly. "that all those years of sword training couldn't build up your muscles enough to hit a tree that close to you?"

he ignored your taunt, his fingers squeezing yours as he ducks down into your space. you laugh, squirming away, pushing your hand (with his still twined into it) against his face.

"you suck at this," you tease. "and you won't win!"

"oh, yeah?" he says, his smile wide and gleaming. two of his teeth are a little sharp at the corners, reminding you of a shark. fitting.

percy's lips part, ready to speak, but just then the alarm on his watch, the old and crusty one that he showed you earlier, went off, the sound piercing through the quiet night air. you glanced at the time.

midnight exactly.

percy releases you, thankfully. your arms were starting to strain. you lied about the muscle thing, he was pretty strong.

"c'mere," he says, picking up the box that he wrapped, the paper crinkling in the spots where his fingers were touching it. you sit next to him, feet dangling off the rooftop. he puts the box in your hands and you eagerly tear off the wrapping paper.

inside was a stunning multi-colored bracelet, with multiple chains and twists and turns that caught the light. you looked up at percy, who was already watching you. "i've been saving up," he says, his eyes downcast. "what do you think?"

you had to take a moment before responding. "i love it perce, really." you slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring the way it glinted in the christmas lights. he even got it in your favorite color. "thank you."

he let out a sigh of relief, pulling up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a matching bracelet on his own wrist, but in blue. "good," he breathes, a small smile playing at his lips. "'cause if you didn't, then you'd have to see it everytime i held your hand, anyway."

you gape at him, then grin. you like the idea of having a piece of him with you, even when he was away. you reached up to cup his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "was this just an excuse for you to buy yourself a cool bracelet?" you tease.

percy shook his head, his smile growing. he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple, then took your hand in his, holding it up to the sky. the christmas lights around you seemed to glow brighter, illuminating the two of you. "one for me, one for you," he says, his voice low and warm.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fluff #pjo imagine #riordanverse x reader

589 notes · View notes

sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months

Text

✧ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 || luke hughes♔

album & song: 1989 ; welcome to new york (taylor's version)

summary: y/n comes to visit her boyfriend and they venture around new york when she surprises him with some news

pairings: luke hughes x reader ; jack hughes x platonic!reader (minor)

warnings: airplanes/airport (very minor), crowded spaces, fluffy

notes: hey guys, I'm back! this was really fun to write but I did end up cutting out the second verse because I didn't really know what to write for that part. anyways, I loved how this turned out and i'm so excited to share it with you so I hope you guys enjoy it as well. let me know what I should write next for this series however I think I'm either gonna write a fic that doesn't pertain to any event or celebration or one for my 150 celly next. hope you guys had a good holiday and I will see you all in the next one! by the way, you guys can pick where you are oging to school but to make it easy I just picked somewhere (that being Hofstra becuase they really want me so I picked them in spirit). add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

1989 masterlist | nhl x ts masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

'Welcome to New York, it's been waitin' for you Welcome to New York, welcome to New York Welcome to New York, it's been waitin' for you Welcome to New York, welcome to New York'

It had been a month since the two had last seen each other. They had been lucky enough that their schedules overlapped this year. For Thanksgiving break, Luke had a game the day it started in Detriot so she drove there to see him, spending some of Thursday with him before he had to head back to Jersey. For Winter Break, the day after exams ended Luke had a game in Columbus so once again she drove down to see him before leaving for Jersey with him to spend her break with as they had a homestand till Christmas (and maybe for a while after…)

Luke wrapped an arm around y/n, sitting on an airplane because they knew they wouldn’t hear the end of it if Luke went with the team. He leaned over and kissed her head, “Welcome to New York, babe.”

Y/n looked over at him and smiled, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to make a Taylor Swift reference and are mocking me,” she showed him her phone which had ‘Welcome to New York’ showing that it was playing on it. “Or if you’re being serious and are just saying it.”

Luke shrugged, “Maybe both?”

She laughed and hit him playfully, snuggling into his side as they landed.

✧༺✎༻∞

'Walkin' through a crowd, the village is aglow Kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats Everybody here wanted somethin' more Searchin' for a sound we hadn't heard before'

Y/n had begged her boyfriend to go walking in the city across the river to look at their Christmas lights. It didn’t take long for him to say yes as he was pulling on his shoes grabbing the keys from the table and yelling goodbye to Jack who still sat curled up in his room.

The two walked hand in hand as they strolled through Rockefeller Center, looking at the tree, “We should’ve brought skates.”

Luke gave her a look, “I play professional hockey for a living, you think I don’t carry skates in my car?”

“Lukey, I was joking. You skate for a living, don’t you ever want a break.” She pulled him past the rink, heading towards a hot chocolate stand, rubbing her hands together.

He grabbed her hands and held them between his own, “No.”

She rolled her eyes and Luke let go of her hands for a brief moment to pay for the hot chocolate before placing one back in hers. They continued to walk around the city, y/n pointing out things in amazement and Luke watching her with a dazed look on his face.

“Look, that one kind of looks like you’re looking through a kaleidoscope.” He didn’t respond as he had spaced out looking at her smile, “Luke. Hey!”

“What?” He snapped out of it and looked down at her, his eyes readjusting and focusing on her eyes, “I’ve been talking to you for the past two minutes and you have not said a word.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay, are you okay?”

He nodded but she knew that wasn’t the case, something was bothering him, “Seriously, Luke. What’s wrong?”

“Do you ever,” He paused before restarting, “Do you ever wish we could be together?”

“What do you mean? We are together.”

“I meant like all the time. Like you were there when I came home from roadies, or you were at all of the home games when you could be. Or you were there when I woke up every morning.” Luke sounded sad as he spoke.

“Of course, I do, Luke. And you know that.” She wanted to say what she wanted but it wasn’t the right time, “Just give it a little bit and everything will work out, okay? I promise.”

He nodded but still had an unsure look on his face. She reached up and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and he retaliated with his arms around her torso. To keep his spirits high, she allowed them to head to the rink and rent some skates, which they could’ve spent hours on but only stayed for an hour before heading to get something to eat, picking up something for Jack for when they got home.

✧༺✎༻∞

'Like any great love, it keeps you guessing Like any real love, it's ever-changing Like any true love, it drives you crazy But you know you wouldn't change anything, anything, anything'

It was the eighth of January and y/n knew that Luke would start getting suspicious. None of her bags were packed, most of her belongings were strewn about in Luke’s room, and she hadn’t made an effort to start packing them either. She also hadn’t told him when her flight back to Michigan was which was odd because Luke would’ve dropped everything to take her to the airport, especially with their upcoming road trip.

The Devils had a four-game break before they had to head to Tampa on Thursday, they had just played the Canucks and everything seemed to slow down for a minute. Luke came into his room seeing his girlfriend sitting on his bed with her legs crossed under her and staring out the window, “What’s up?”

She snapped her head over and looked at him, “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

Luke shrugged, “Not really. I’m kind of tired.”

Y/n sighed and redirected her gaze to the window again. Luke sat behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

She nodded, “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

“And we need to go out to dinner to do that?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I just thought it would be nice to.”

The boy agreed finally, the two sitting there in silence before watching their show on y/n’s laptop. They watched Supernatural as they waited for a good time to start getting ready. They got through 6 episodes before they finally decided to get ready.

Luke drove to the restaurant and they made small talk along the way, talking about Luke’s upcoming games and y/n deflecting any questions her boyfriend brought up about school. They walked into the restaurant, got a table for two, and looked over the menu.

After their waiter brought their appetizer and took their main course order, y/n looked at Luke seriously, “So, I need to talk to you about something.”

“If you’re breaking up with me this is a very cruel way to do it.” Luke drew his hand away from hers and held it in his lap, nervous about what was to come of the conversation.

“Luke, I’m not breaking up with, quite the opposite actually.”

Luke tilted his head in confusion, his spirit raising slightly at her words. She reached her hand out once more and he gladly took it, tightening his hand a little once hers was in his grasp again.

“You know how at the beginning of the break you asked me if I ever wished we could be together all the time?” He nodded his head, not connecting any dots, “And you know how I said it would all work out someday?”

Once again he nodded and she fidgeted nervously, “Well dreams are about to become a reality.”

“What?”

“I didn't want to tell you at the beginning of the break in case something went wrong but I’m transferring to Hofstra, which is only an hour away from East Rutherford.”

Luke’s gaze widened at the news, “You’re what?”

“Yeah, and Jack has been helping me find an apartment for us that’s halfway between here and the campus so we both wouldn’t have to commute that far. He also kind of helped me already paid for it so I hope you like it because if you didn’t that would be embarrassing but you not even being on board with this whole plan would be horrible because I already kind of drove myself crazy doing this. Of course, you’re not a fan of this plan, you’re just starting your rookie season and this must be a lot, this changes everything. Ugh, what am I doing chasing after-”

Luke kissed her in order to get her to stop talking. She grunted at the impact but kissed back before pulling away and looking at him, “I’m sorry.”

“Y/n/n, take a breather.”

Y/n took a breath in and let it out slowly, eyes wandering around in an effort not to make any eye contact with her boyfriend.

“Of course, I want to move in with you. It just took me off guard.” He smiled at her and she smiled back.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Since the first week of school.”

Luke looked at her with a wide-eyed gaze, “Are you serious?”

She nodded, tears coming to her eyes, “It was really hard that first week, I wasn’t able to see you every day which was a huge change. It got worse during hockey season because they all had practice and besides the girls, I didn’t really have anyone to hang out with. I mean, the guys always reminded me of you and how you guys would always hang out. And then it would remind me of the time I first met them.”

“I think they liked you more than I did, which wasn’t possible but they acted like it was.”

“Ethan was so excited.” The two chuckled at the memory before locking eyes once again, “I started looking at Universities that weren’t too far from here because I didn’t want you to have to commute that far.”

“If you wanted to go to somewhere two hours from here I would’ve done the drive if it meant I could live with you.”

“Trust me, I know, Jack said the same thing when we were talking about it, which is why I didn’t tell you.”

“When did you have time to find an apartment?”

“Well I asked Jack about it in late September and early October and he was able to start looking at places for me, which also probably explains some of the days where you guys had off days and he was gone for a while. He facetimed me when he thought it was something I would really like. And then that one day when I said I wanted to go shopping for you but I didn’t want to go alone? Yeah, the two of us went out to look at our apartment.”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

“So are you two looking for this apartment together?” The realtor asked as they stood at the entryway to the apartment.

“No, no, no definitely not. He’s my boyfriend’s brother. I’m surprising him.”

The realtor nodded her head and opened the door. They spent a little time walking through the apartment, y/n planning out where everything would go in her head as they peeked through the rooms. She smiled at the space when they circled back to the living room.

“I really like this one, I think it could be it. Jack?”

Jack nodded his head in agreement, “I like it, I think Luke would too.”

They finished talking to the realtor, going over the costs and the other essential things. They walked out of the apartment complex, heading towards Jack’s car where they got in and y/n made him crank the heat up.

“Do you think he’ll actually want to move in with me?”

“Of course he will y/n/n. I haven’t been able to go a day without him bringing you up in conversation. I love you, but it gets annoying.”

She laughs but nerves are still evident on her face, “Hey, listen.” Jack turns his body to face his, in his words ‘future-sister-in-law’, “I can promise you, without a doubt, that my brother would be over the fucking moon if you offered to move in with him. He wouldn’t care where it was, or what it looked like, as long as you were happy and he got to live with you. That man is in love with you and anyone can see it.”

She nodded her head, “Thanks, Jack.”

“Come on, what are future-brother-in-laws for?”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

“Our apartment?”

She nodded, “Jack paid half and I paid the other because I certainly wasn’t going to let your brother pay for our apartment, my pride wouldn’t be able to handle it. If it was Quinn, maybe, but definitely not Jack.”

He laughed at the thought, “You know how to keep me on my toes. But I wouldn't change it for the world.”

“I try my hardest.”

“So, when can we move in?”

✧༺✎༻∞

'It's a new soundtrack, I could dance to this beat, beat forevermore The lights are so bright, but they never blind me, me'

Instead of the depressing music Luke and y/n would be listening to right now, they were listening to their productive music, moving boxes from the truck to their new apartment. When they finished, y/n started to unpack the things for the kitchen, dancing to ‘Welcome to New York’.

Luke came barrelling in from their new bedroom, sliding on the wood in his stocks, “Hey!”

She turned around and looked at him, plates in hand, “What’s up, Lukey?”

“We should go shopping for new furniture. I mean we have like nothing in this place.”

He was right, the only pieces of furniture they had were an old couch from y/n’s parents, a mattress that they had blown up as they waited for their new one to get here, and a TV that sat in their room. She nodded her head, “Let me put these last plates away and we can go.”

Luke jumped up on the island and looked at her, listening to the music, “Isn’t this like, your thirteenth time listening to this song?”

“So what? It’s a good song. Are you hating on Taylor Swift, Luke Warren Hughes?”

The boy held up his hands in surrender, a somewhat scarred look on his face, “No. Of course not.”

“Good.”

The two went out shopping, stopping for food on the way back. When they got back it was late at night, the bright lights of New York City streaming into their apartment window. They sat on some cushions they had gotten in the living room, their new TV not yet on a mantle as neither of them wanted to build it yet.

They watched whatever game was on at the time, Luke commentating most of the time on actual technical things as y/n just yelled when someone she knew, or liked, did something stupid. When the game was over, the two yawned simultaneously, cleaning up their garbage and making their way to the room.

Laying in bed the two looked at each other, the lights from outside still coming in through the window, “This is so surreal.”

“Hmm?” Y/n’s gaze moved from their hands that were intertwined to his face, “Being with you, in our apartment, in our own, well bed for now.”

She agreed with him with a subtle nod, “You know, I’d always get annoyed when I was at my dorm and the lights from outside would come through the curtain, but now that it doesn’t really bother me.”

Despite the heat in the room, y/n moved closer to Luke as she was still cold. Luke wrapped his arms around her, placing her head on his chest, “And why’s that?”

“Because you’re here.”

“You’re so cringy.”

“But you love it.”

“I do. And I love you.”

She looked up, “I love you too.”

Placing a kiss to her lips and then on the top of her head, Luke adjusted his arms so the one wouldn’t fall asleep but he was still able to hold her, finding it almost impossible but didn’t really care in the moment.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #sunnylunenhlxts #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x platonic!reader #jh86 #nhl #hockey #nj devils #devils #taylor swift #1989 #Spotify

451 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 4 months

Note

Hi :3 i just watched the new episode and i want to hit that girl she had to touch zoro and sleep wit him 💔

So may I request zoro xs/o about seeing him with the girl maybe some angst and fluff in the end?

DESCRIPTION: After an unplanned separation, you feel insecure about your new relationship

WARNINGS: angst to fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 1,852

A/N: Thank you for this request! I think I rushed the ending a bit but I hope you're happy with it

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

Things between you and Zoro were new, incredibly new. There was still a lot you both had to come to grips with, sorting out your feelings and boundaries with each other and still in that moment of not knowing whether what was happening between you both was just lust or if it was going to lead somewhere real. So far you’d both been content to just enjoy the time and moments shared while keeping it all a secret from the crew, deciding it was better to wait before letting them know your personal details. That had been the plan, then it all went wrong in Zou.

You’d been standing too close to Luffy as you all discussed saving Sanji who was in Big Mom’s territory. Because of that, you were one of the ones he wrapped his arms around and leapt off of the enormous elephant. From there started the longest time you’d both been apart as a couple-albeit a secret one- but you knew Zoro would be just fine in Wano. You just had to do your part and help get Sanji back so the crew could finally be complete again and wasting time thinking about a certain swordsman would only just jeopardise the safety of the crew.

The entire trip and rescue had been an ordeal you never wanted to go through again. The fractured relationship between Sanji and Luffy had taken its toll- even though much of what Sanji did was to protect everyone- and the battles you had to endure too. You didn’t feel like you could properly breathe any sigh of relief for most of the journey. Yes, you’d all been successful but the loss of Pedro and knowing that as soon as you reached Wano it wouldn’t be long until you were brought straight into another monumental burden of fighting and defeating an Emperor of the sea and his followers. You felt like your head was swimming and stomach was going to be twisted into knots from it all. The only thing that kept you from showing your worries to the others was the thought of seeing Zoro again after weeks of being apart.

So imagine your shock and hurt of the first seeing him again was seeing him and Sanji interfere during the aftermath of an execution. It wasn’t the fact that he saved a child or that he immediately got into a shouting match with Sanji that got under your skin it was that he didn’t even seem to look for you in the crowd where you stood with the others. Then as fast as you saw him, he was gone again; running to safety with a beautiful woman in his arms. You told yourself you were being ridiculous, that while it seemed like they knew each other Zoro was only acting on instinct to save someone and not because of some other desires fuelling his actions.

At least that’s what you told yourself at first but as you and the others in the crew ran to escape Kaido’s lackeys you had to listen to Brook gleefully inform a heartbroken Sanji that he had walked in on the sight of this same beautiful woman sleeping contently with Zoro. While Sanji screamed loudly at the revelation you internalised all of your hurt until you were safe and alone, finally able to take out your fury and heartbreak on some random tree in the dense forest with your weapon until your body was too exhausted to move let alone care anymore. In the coming days of preparing for the raid on Kaido’s banquet you kept to yourself, doing all you could to focus your mind on the reason for being in Wano. Still you couldn’t help but numbly rationalise Zoro’s actions.

Of course the weeks apart would give him insight into how he truly felt. Of course he would have realised he could do better than you. Of course you both only got together in the first place because on the ship, you were the alternative to having any needs he had go unmet. You had to face facts, this was just a fling for Zoro and nothing more. It just killed you inside to realise that you felt so strongly for him, you wished things had ended before it had gotten this far for you. The only thing you were glad of when Zoro finally reappeared was that he had a new sword to hone and train with so he stayed away from you. If there was to be a conversation you wanted it to be after the fight with Kaido, a clouded mind would only lead to mistakes and in this situation it would have been fatal.

However on the night before the planned fight while the crew had finished their preparations and were beginning to turn in, Zoro walked towards you in the quiet night. He knew you had been keeping your distance from him so he could train and he appreciated that you were so understanding that when he was focused, he needed space. But now there was no more training he could do in the short hours before things would start so he wanted to properly reach out to you. He’d missed you during the time away but to see that you were completely unharmed was a relief. If you’d come back to him with so much as a scratch he would have killed the stupid cook because at the core of the matter it would have been his fault.

Zoro frowned when you glanced his way and immediately moved to gather your things and find a new place to rest. His hand dropped to your arm but you surprised him when you quickly and sharply twisted from his touch. Then he remembered you two were still a secret. He glanced around the space and smirked to see the coast was clear, but even if the others were still up and about he wouldn’t have cared, not after the time apart. Still if you were still worried about telling the others he’d respect that. “We’re fine. It’s just us.” He spoke lowly to reassure you but it seemed to have the opposite affect when you snapped your head up to glare at him.

“Us?” You repeated coldly, expression melting into one of mock confusion. “There’s an us?”

“Wh-” Zoro was genuinely thrown for a moment and then he became worried that you had been injured in the time away and lost your memories of him. “Of course there is! What happened?” Again he reached out for you but this time your hand slapped his fingers with a sharp snap while the fierce glare returned to your eyes.

“Oh nothing’s wrong with me, I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Last thing I’d want is to get cosy with someone else’s man.” Your tone was scarily even and Zoro still didn’t know what you were talking about. He didn’t even know how to fix whatever it was that was bothering you. Thankfully you clarified by lightly tapping the hilt of Enma that was against his hip with his other swords. “It’s cute she knows the right gifts to give you so early in the romance.” Despite the sweet words, the venom in your voice was unmistakable and Zoro finally saw the pain dimming your eyes as you regarded his new sword.

“Hiyori?” Zoro asked startled that you’d even think there was anything romantic going on there. She only gave him the sword as an exchange that was it. “There’s nothing between us. Definitely not ‘cosy’ trust me on that.” At that you let out a short, hollow breath of laughter which worried Zoro even more when he was so used to your laugh being filled with warmth and joy.

“Well the way Brook tells it, the whole situation seemed very cosy…” Slowly you stepped closer to him, finally for the first time in ages and dragged your fingers across his chest while your other hand slid up his arm, drawing your body further into his space. Your head tilted up, purposely letting your nose gently skim against his throat until you could peer up at him with your guarded gaze. “Something like this, if i’m remembering right. You don’t call this cosy?” Zoro was stuck, if he said yes he was screwed, if he said no he was also screwed.

“Don’t worry about it Zoro. We had our fun while it lasted, right?” You forced out in as light a voice as possible. “You should get some rest while you can and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time.” When you moved to pull away you were immediately caught by Zoro’s reflexes. While you were fast, he was faster when he wanted to be. You let out a gasp to be pulled impossibly close against his chest as his arms locked around you, holding your body against his.

You wanted to fight against the hold that was strong, secure, and -as much as you hated it- comforting. Even now with your heartbroken mind racing, you always felt safe and warm in his arms. You tried to open your mouth to tell him to let go but you couldn’t. Part of you didn’t want to because the last thing you wanted now was for your voice to be a pitiful, weak tremble but another part knew that even if you managed out the words, he would have listened. So you kept your mouth closed. “I’ve missed you. I wished you hadn’t gone after that cook with the others.”

Your body tensed at his words, hearing how sincere they were made your knotted worries and spiralling hurt begin to loosen slightly. You didn’t regret helping with Kanji’s rescue but you did also wish you’d gone to Wano with Zoro. “I’m sorry you were made to think the worst. I promise you there wasn’t anything going on with her or anyone. There is no one but you.”

“Don’t say that.” You whispered, trying not to melt into his embrace. Even with him telling the truth it didn’t stop the fact that your insecurities had surfaced and with them came concerns about everything. “Compared to someone like her I’m-”

“Perfect. Mine. Everything.” Zoro interrupted fiercely before pressing a kiss against your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes to get you to believe it. But first-” You staggered when Zoro let you go and began stomping towards the Sunny. “I’ve got a skeleton to kill for causing you to hurt.” Bewildered by the immediately bloodlust rolling off of his frame you had no choice but to chase after him to stop him from killing another member of the crew while shouting that you believe him. When you finally caught up to him you pulled him into another tight hug with shaking hands. While things were still new between you two and it was clear you both had a lot to work out you now knew that for as long as you wanted him, Zoro would be there.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x reader

498 notes · View notes

moeyynorris · 5 months

Text

Streaming and Daydreaming

Lando Norris x F!Streamer!Reader

Warnings: Just super cute fluff, some fans teasing the two of you, maybe a hint of angst, and mention of being shot at in a video game.

A/N: I’m flirting with the idea of a part 2. Let me know what you think!

Moeyy’s Master List

“Hello everyone, and thank you for joining the stream. Sorry it’s been a little while since I’ve been on, but my day job has been a bit busy lately.” Lando winked at the camera as he addressed his fans. “But, I do have a treat for you lot. One of my dear friends, the ever so beautiful Y/N, will be joining us. You can follow her stream at @ynusername and you will be able to hear her and see her camera on my own.” He grinned, waiting for you to chime in.

“Hello everyone,” you greeted, the smile obvious in your voice. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you stared at Lando through your second screen. You knew you didn’t have stage-fright, so you were hoping the fans tuning in wouldn’t notice.

“Ready to get your ass handed to you at some Fortnite, girlie?” Lando chuckled as he teased you. You sucked in a breath at his smile.

“Excuse me, Norris, but I’ve been playing this game for almost two years longer than you have!” You giggled, then stuck out your tongue at the camera. “You started, what, three weeks ago? Let’s see who has their ass handed to them.”

Lando shook his head, laughing as the chat on his stream went wild. You could see multiple people typing “Lando ❤️😍🥰” and “That smile 😍😍😍”, and all you could do was laugh.

Same, fans. Same.

“Ok, Y/N, get ready and let’s go!”

As the two of you waiting for your game lobby to fill, you greeted some of the fans in the chat. Lando did the same, the two of you taking turns.

“@papayaprincezz1 asks, ‘It’s been all smiles since the two of you signed on. Is there anything going on between the two of you?” Lando froze after he read the last word aloud. He stared directly at the camera for a moment, then huffed a nervous laugh. “Y/N and I have been friends for a while, but there is nothing more between us right now.”

You he glanced to his left, at his second monitor, where he was streaming your stream. You stared up at the camera, offering a smile. The chat started filling up with “right now?” and “what does he mean by that?”

Before you would say anything, your screen flashed to your character preparing to drop into the map.

“Where we droppin’ Lando?” You asking, scanning the map.

“Uhh, let’s do the Peninsula thing next to that castle thing.”

You laughed. “You mean near the Citadel?”

Lando scrunched his nose. “Yeah, that thing.”

“You sure you don’t want to do Slappy Shores?” You offered, preparing to leave the Battle Bus.

“Nah, babe, that place is too hard. People are gnarly there!” Lando followed your lead as he left the Battle Bus.

You blushed at his use of that word, and the chat definitely heard it too. There was another instant barrage of comments about Lando’s choice of nickname, but you tried to ignore it.

mclarengirl04: they would be so cute together! 😍

f1gamergirl0416: he called her babe. There’s gotta be something there between them!

drsdiana55: Lando + Y/N = shipped. 🥰

You glanced away from the chat the moment you heard something whizz by your head. Someone was hiding and sniping at you. You spun your character around, trying to find who was shooting at you.

“Lando, I’ve got a sniper,” you announced as you scanned the land around you. You saw something move in a tree, so you took a shot, and numbers popped up instantly. “I shot him,” you muttered, continuing to aim.

You kept shooting, hitting the player just about every other shot.

“Knocked him.” You furrowed your brow as someone from behind you started shooting at you. “Lando, where the hell are you?”

You glanced up at Lando’s stream and froze. He was just sitting there, staring to his left, at your stream. His eyes appeared to be almost glazed over, like he was daydreaming.

“Earth to Lando Norris!” Your voiced raised a bit, snapping him out of his haze.

“Sorry, I, uh, where are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Where I’ve been the last four minutes, love.” Your cheeks flushed as the word left your lips, but you shoved your feelings down and focused on the game.

“Right,” Lando muttered, his cheeks redder than you had ever seen them. He nibbled his lower lip as he focused on the screen in front of him.

You sighed in relief when Lando finally came to your aid. You both fought in silence for a few minutes. Then, your stomach flipped as you noticed the chat blowing up again.

formula1fangirl98: I want a man who looks at me the way Lando looks at Y/N.

battlebusdriver249: He’s in love for sure. Ain’t no one look at someone like that unless they in love.

myra_norris: Lando just daydreaming about his dream girl.

Your eyes widened and your stomach tensed as you read the hundreds of comments about you and Lando. There was no way he was staring at you, not consciously. He was probably just daydreaming about something else and happened to be looking at your stream when he zoned out… Right?

One last shot, and you were taken out. You sighed, relaxing your shoulders. Lando leaned back in his chair, his hands cradling the back of his head.

“Well, that was interesting.” Lando yawned, then smiled. “I guess 4th isn’t too shabby.” He peered down at his screen. “Is everyone in the chat still awake? Maybe I should read a couple of these—“

Lando’s eyes widened as he glanced down at the chat, his eyes scrolling over the various messages.

“Oh,” he gasped, glancing back up at the camera. “Uh, I don’t—uh.”

“Are you okay? Did your brain break?” You chuckled. You tried to maintain your cool while watching Lando stumble.

“Well, I think the chat is trying to call me out.” Lando’s cheeks flushed.

“Oh what?” You tried to play naïve, but you knew what they were saying. You weren’t blind.

“Well, let’s see. ‘Lando got those heart eyes’. Oh, and there’s ’His heart exploded and short-circuited his brain’.” He kept reading different comments in the chat, all of them hinting at one thing:

He was too busy staring at you to pay attention to the game.

“Oh,” was all you could muster up. You both stared at each other through the camera, both unable to say what you both knew needed to come next.

You sighed. “Well, are they right?” You winced as the words left your lips. This was not how you thought the day, or stream, was going to go.

“Haha, uh.” He sucked in a breath, then chuckled again. “Well, fans and friends, thank you for joining us today. I hope to be in here soon, and hopefully this lovely lady here will join me too.” He waved to the camera. “Goodnight, or day, everyone. Cheers.”

And with that, his screen went away, leaving just you and your stream. With a reluctant sigh, you said your farewells to your fans, and signed off too.

He just signed off like that? Not wanting to talk? Why would he read those comments off his chat if he wasn’t going to get to the point?

You leaned back in your chair just as your phone vibrated on your desk.

Text Message

Lando 😎🏎️🧡

Can you hop on Skype? I think we have a convo to finish.

You sent him a quick thumbs up emoji and pulled up Skype on your computer.

Within 30 seconds, you were getting a call from Lando, which you quickly accepted. His face popped into view, without his usual grin.

“Hey,” he muttered before letting out a sigh.

“Hey back.” You licked your lips nervously as you waited for his next words.

“Uh, so, sorry for earlier. I got a bit distracted.” Lando fiddled with his fingers.

“Yeah, I noticed. But what was so distracting?” His eyes shut for a moment at your words, then opened again. His gaze locked on the camera.

“You, obviously. As the chat said, I was mesmerized, transfixed,” he admitted. “I was distracted by watching you.”

You huffed a laugh. “By me playing a video game?”

He nodded. “Playing a video game, concentrating, analyzing, smiling, just being you.” Lando ran his hands over his hair. “Y/N, I was admiring how stunning you are. You’ve known me for what, a year now? And every single stream you’re on, I’m there right? Sure, you’re a pretty decent player, but I’m also there because watching you smile and laugh makes my stomach flutter like some stupid fucking romance movie. And for the races you’ve been at, I pushed harder than I thought I could because I wanted to make you proud. Not the team, not Zak, you.”

The only response you could give was a smile. A wide, gleeful grin as you listened to goofy, wacky Lando Norris spill his heart out to you.

“So, you’re saying—“

“I love you, Y/N. I have fallen head over fucking heels for a beautiful, funny, smart, quirky gamer girl named Y/N Y/L/N. And there’s no turning back now.” Lando’s lips finally curled. “And I hope—“

“I love you too, Lando. I knew you meant something special to me shortly after we met. I never thought a Formula 1 driver would have followed my gaming Twitch account, let alone become my friend.” Your cheeks heated while tears welled in your eyes. The man really meant a lot to you, and the fact that he felt the same way was magical.

“And maybe, uh, maybe more than a friend?”

You blinked the tears from your eyes and you chuckled. “What exactly are you asking, Mr. Lando Norris?” He cleared his throat then giggled, flashing that award winning smile.

“Y/N, will you, uh, would you like to be my girlfriend?” You both laughed.

“I would love to, Lando.” You both chuckled again. “And very smooth delivery,” you teased, but offering a wink.

“Ha, thanks. It did the job, didn’t it?” It sure did. You couldn’t argue with that.

When the giggles stopped, you both sat there, not sure what to do next. But, it didn’t matter. You were still swimming in the high of what just happened, that Lando Norris confessed to being in love with you.

Lando sat up a little, a grin across his lips. “Hey, I can ask for an all access pass to next weekend’s Grand Prix. If you would like to come and see it, that is.” That million dollar smile struck your heart as you considered his words.

“An all access pass to the Monaco Grand Prix? I could never say no to that.” You winked. “I heard there’s a really cute guy racing for McLaren.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll have to keep my eye out for him.” Lando smirked as you rolled your eyes.

The two of you continued to plan for the Grand Prix, like when you would leave and where you would stay. Lando beamed as he talked about this race, and you knew it was a special race for all of them. And sure, you had seen him race at Silverstone, Barcelona, and in Miami, but this one was going to be special.

“Hey Lando?” you asked as a random thought crossed your mind.

“Yeah, love?”

You let out a breath, then smiled. “When were you going to say something? You know, if thousands of people hadn’t called you out on it?”

Lando pursed his lips. “Well, I was planning on inviting you to the Grand Prix at the end of the stream. I was hoping to talk to you then. Maybe.” He nodded as he spoke.

You peered down randomly at your phone and gasped at the amount of notifications on the Lock Screen. X, Facebook, Instagram.

“Oh boy, we’re viral,” you muttered as you opened each notification. Most of them were just photos of Lando’s stream, his staring at your stream or blushing on camera. Fans had multiple hashtags, like #landoy/n forever and #flirtingonstream.

You rolled your eyes while Lando laughed hysterically at some of the posts.

“I guess the secret is out now the press are going to have a field day with us at the race.” You shrugged, realizing it may not be a calm little visit like before.

Lando chuckled and smirked. “Well, then let’s give them something to write about.” He winked, which made your stomach swirl.

This was going to be an interesting weekend.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris x female reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine

783 notes · View notes

riedswifts · 2 years

Text

WANDERLUST

Warnings : somnophilia (pre-consent), smut, oral (f receiving), riding, some boob play, overstimulation, forced orgasm, slapping (pre established), no plot, pure dirt, stomach bulge kink, dom!bucky, aftercare, (short haired bucky), dacryphilia, little bit of brat taming, hair pulling (if you blink you’ll miss it)

Summary : bucky can’t sleep and you just look so appealing while sleeping in nothing but underwear.

Notes : Hiii oh my lord thank you all for the love on my previous AKA my first smut ever- i hope you guys like this one too! Also lmk what or who you’d wanna see a smut for or what you would like to see

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊

It was dead silent, and pitch black in the avengers compound. You and Bucky were in your guys shared room, the only light being from the moon that peered through the trees that littered the view of your floor to ceiling window. You were sound asleep, nothing but underwear on and the blanket pulled to your knees.

Your back was to bucky, he couldn’t sleep. He had this nagging heat that made his sweatpants seem three times tighter then they where hours ago. He sighed as he glanced at the chandelier that was above your bed which was centered. However his head snapped to you when he heard a soft pant.

A little pathetic whimper- one of his many favorite sounds- escaped your plump lips. His lips stretched into a smirk as he rolled over almost pressing himself against you but leaving a bit of space. He felt his pants tighten more when a quiet moan escaped your lips, he was thankful that he’d always remember to soundproof the room by asking FRIDAY. You guys always did that before bed so the noises outside wouldn’t bother you both.

He moved closer to you, his bare chest pressed to your bare back as he moved the hair from your shoulder to behind you before moving it down so all of it looked at the pillow. You were a deep sleeper, that he knew. Or maybe you were a light sleeper and he was just a well trained assassin.

His arm reached around you and immediately like a second nature you snuggled back into him but your ass rubbing his cock didn’t help the small wet spot that had formed in his sweatpants. Once his arm wrapped around you his hand found the thing he loves, your boobs.

He palmed the smooth skin massaging it slightly and paused when he heard your sharp intake of a breath. However you soon released it with a small whine and he smirked, even in your sleep you were so reactive to him.

He loved it.

He ignored the hard on in his pants that was begging to be let free. He continued the small action before he slowly removed himself and stood up walking to the foot of the bed. You were still a bit ways up seeing as the bed was unnecessarily large.

He slowly removed the blanket, watching as you shifted into the perfect position. You had moved to laying on your back one arm over your chest and the other resting near your cheek. He moved the blanket and slowly got onto the bed and in one swift motion he was face to face with your cunt. His vibranium arm had reached over and pinched each side of your panties leaving them to snap and fall off.

He quickly tossed them aside onto the floor. He had already bought you a whole bunch of new ones so you wouldn’t mind. He saw the way you shivered at the air hitting your now bare pussy, your nipples had hardened due to the air and the dream you seemed to be having.

It amazed him how you were still asleep.

In a swift motion his hands had locked under your legs, his vibranium hand holding your hips down and his other hand free as it slithered up and followed the curve of your body until he grabbed your boob in his hand and ran his thumb over the hardened skin. You shuddered and your head shifted slightly. Yet again you seemed to moan and it turned him on further.

Without even thinking about stealthy anymore his tongue darted out licking a long strip from your hole to your clit and placing an open mouthed kiss on it. His mouth latched onto your cunt and he started licking and sucking at it. You were still sleeping but soft pants and whimpers flowed from your mouth. His tongue slipped inside you whilst his teeth grazed your clit.

You were barley conscious when you felt the familiar heat in your lower stomach. It was hard to decipher if you were still dreaming but when You felt his tongue lick and lick before sucking on your bundle of nerves you moaned as your eyes fluttered open.

Your vision was still blurry and you were still half asleep when he lightly blew on your dripping cunt and then he repeated his actions of sticking his tongue in you, however that’s when you felt the hand on your boob and the coldness of his vibranium thumb rubbing at your clit. The sensation of his tongue inside you, the sucking and rubbing at your spot sent you over the edge and that’s what drew you to full consciousness.

Your orgasm was pure bliss and it had you letting out high pitched moans as you subconsciously tried to wiggle yourself away from his tongue. However a slap to your boob made you whimper. “Come on do it again.” Bucky said and his voice had that deep dark tone in it.

You moaned shaking your head. “To much.” he just tightened his grip on your waist now with both arms as he continued to eat you out like he was starving, like you hadn’t fed him in years.

His tongue toyed with your clit as you clenched around nothing and he went back to latching his full mouth sucking and licking and lightly biting. Your head pushed fire back into the pillow as your mouth formed into an O shape nothing but short breathes escaping you. He subconsciously started grinding into the mattress at the sight.

You felt the tightness and he must’ve felt it on his tongue cause he sped up his pace and you writhed. He pushed your hips down forcefully definitely gonna have bruises in the form of handprints.

“You gonna cum? Hmm?” He asked seeing your face. You whimpered are the sensitivity, but he didn’t care as he continued his assault in your pussy that was practically crying for a break, and for more. He put pressure on your clit with his thumb as he devoured you and the coil snapped harder then before.

He kept licking your clit drawing the orgasm out and your hands found his hair trying to push him away. “ s’to much- ah! No no i can’t- fuck.” You whined before his finger collected some of the slick from your two previous orgasms and he smeared it across your clit.

“Look at you, so good. God you taste so fuckin good.” He muttered as your plea fell upon deaf ears. He licked and sucked once more and you sighed in relief as he backed away but his hand game down and started rubbing your clit impeccably fast.

Your legs instinctively tried to shut however he was able to hold them open as he still had his arms locked around them. His rubbing sped up and you came hard moaning loudly however no words came out forming a sentence it was all babbling.

Finally he fully pulled away and he hovered over you moving your hair that stuck to your forehead away. You were panting, eyes barley open as his head dipped down kissing your cheek nose and finally your lips, he teasingly ran a finger over your swollen sensitive clit making you jolt a bit.

He pulled away before dipping into the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching against your neck as he kissed the skin. His hips simultaneously started grinding down into you and his hard on rubbed against your sensitive clit making you whimper his name.

“I’m gonna take care of you, ‘kay baby.” He said as he captured your lips again while still grinding down onto you. “This is what you do to me.” He muttered as he parted his lips from yours. He kissed down your body, paying special attention to your boobs before getting rid of his sweatpants letting his hard cock out.

The tip was red and leaking with Pre-cum. Slowly he made his way back up as he watched your reaction when he tapped the head of it against your clit and teasing you as he slid the head up and down, letting it go in for a second before taking it out and gathering more of your slick.

“Please” You muttered and he faked a frown. “Please what baby?” He asked and your head leaned to the side as your hips tried to move to have a bit of friction. But his hand that was around his thick cock to tease you went to your hip holding it down harshly.

“You want me to help you?” You nodded. “So then You have to tell me what you want.” He said darkly, you still didn’t answer so instead of asking again he patted your legs more and in one motion shoved his cock into you, bottoming out. You gasped as your back arched due to his size and in your peripheral you could see the bild he in your lower stomach.

However as your eyes veered away from him, his hand came up and slapped your cheek. Not hard but enough to sting making you look at him. When he slapped you he felt the clench around him and his hands gripped your chin making you look at him.

“Answer me.” He growled lowly and you huffed. “Please, move pleasee, i’ll be good- ah- please.” You finally gave in moaning in the middle of your plea when he shifted over you. He smirked finally getting you to obey as he slowly started moving his hips.

“s’good- mmgh!” You said as his hips started moving faster and faster making you cry out when one of his thrust hit a very deep spot inside of you. His hand had soothed over your stomach bulge before pushing down on it making tears brim your eyes as you cried out.

He kept his hand there while thrusting in and out of you at a bruising pace making the tears fall from your eyes at the load of pleasure you were feeling. He leaned up and right where your tears where he kissed them as he kept his pace.

“you look so pretty when your like this.” His low voice sounded in your ears before you felt a pressure on your clit. It had you clenching down on him and he groaned.

“You gonna- agh! You gonna cum for me? hmm? Shit!” Bucky said as he felt your walls clenching around him. You nodded and his hand gripped your chin again kissing you harshly as he sped up and the angle he had was rubbing your clit with to much friction making you moan and sob.

“I’m gonna- cum.“ you panted and he sped up before latching his mouth to your nipple sending you over the edge. When you came your walls gripped him like a vice making his cock twitch as he punched your clit making the orgasm drag out and you saw pure white, a small ringing was present in your ears as you cried out.

He was overstimulating you again and it hurt but it felt so damn good. As soon as you came down you felt the thick cum being let into you and being pushed in to you as he kept thrusting. Suddenly he stopped and kissed you sweetly before rolling over.

You where on top of him now with your hair on one side of you, you lay limp on his chest as he was leaned against the padded headboard. He let you rest for a moment before you felt his dick tense inside of you as he slowly kept rocking into you.

You bit lightly on his neck to muffle the whimper, before he tapped your ass. “One more time baby, after you ride me you can go to sleep, yeah?” You nodded softly as he kissed you again not letting you go as you slowly started rocking your hips. His hands went to your hips helping you find a pace and making sure to slip his tongue in he lifted you up at the same time before moving you back down.

You moaned into his mouth as he kept guiding your hips up and down, forward backwards. You were moaning and panting arms wrapped around his neck as you felt your hair tickle your lower back. You moved your arms around his neck and dipped your head into the crook of his neck and left open mouthed kissed making sure to give him matching marks that you were for sure gonna have.

His hands went to your ass lifting you up before her started thrusting up into you and your back arched as your head leaned against his while your moans flowed straight into his ear leading him to continue. He felt you tighten around him and his hand threaded into your hair pulling it back so you where face to face with him and his lust shot eyes.

He stared at you, your forehead had beads of sweat and some hair sticking to it. Your neck and breast were splotches with red and purple marks, your lips were swollen and your eyes where lust shot, your hair was a bit messy but he didn’t care. You looked stunning all fucked out and dumb on his dick.

He kissed you as he felt you coming undone again moaning into his mouth as his other hand toyed with your clit making you cum harder before you felt him let go inside of you, you felt the cum leaking out of you dripping down your thighs.

He rolled you both over laying you down before sweetly kissing your lips, forehead, and nose, as he pulled out of you. Both of you were work out, you more than him, but you’d both miss the warmth that you gave one another.

He reached on the bedside table and pulled a hair tie out the drawer making you lift your head as he tied your hair into a low bun before he sauntered into the bathroom grabbing a small rag and running it under some water before walking back into the room.

You were half asleep again, he slowly sat between your trembling legs and started to clean you up making you hiss. “I know baby, i just gotta clean ya’ up.” he muttered and he grabbed your hand, a small but loves me gesture that made your chest warm. Once he finished cleaning you both up he grabbed one of his shirts after he slid a pair of boxers on himself and walked back over to the bed.

He dressed you in his shirt that was pretty large on you due to the size difference but little gestures like these- and the way you cuddled into him putting your head into his neck while his arm went around you and pulled the blanket over you both- that had you both head over heels for each-other.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊

6K notes · View notes