#was thing about the day of the black sun today

[not-neverland06]

How About A Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I’ve received more love and interaction with this series than I have with any of my other works, so thank you all so much for that ♥️ That being said, I’ve also had a lot of comments talking about how excited readers are for Cooper eventually finding his humanity. This is not going to be that chapter, so strap in and good luck. I’m anticipating there to be about two chapter of this story (most likely.) Summary: The surface sucks. There’s nothing else to it, you’re affronted by violence and brutality every minute you’re up here. The one thing that’s kept you going has been Cooper slowly easing up, you should have known better. Warnings: Themes of SA but none is actually committed.

“Up,” you jumped, jolted harshly out of your restless sleep. You weren’t sure when you’d passed out last night but it was a long while after you’d struck your deal with Cooper. A glance through one of the holes in the wall told you it was still slightly dark outside. 

He strode to the door, throwing it open and not bothering to see if you were following. You scrambled up to your feet, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes while you hurried to catch up with him. You trailed slightly behind him for a while, not willing to risk pissing him off by getting too close. 

He’d always been an even tempered man, at least when you’d known him, this brutality was something completely foreign to you. Left you feeling like you were walking on glass every time you even looked at him. 

After about an hour and a half of walking without speaking, you felt yourself starting to go a little crazy. You rushed up to his side, glaring under the harsh beams of sunlight. “Where are we headed?” He didn’t bother looking at you or even acknowledging that you spoke. 

He simply kept his eyes ahead and kept going. You huffed and let yourself fall back again. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for conversation today. Another hour and you felt yourself starting to slow down. You didn’t have a handy little canteen like Cooper did, you certainly didn’t have any fucking sunscreen. You could already feel yourself starting to pour sweat and your lips were peeling again. 

Any rest you’d gotten from last night was zapped out of you. You’d barely started the day’s journey and already you felt like you were going to keel over. You stopped for a moment, not thinking he’d pay attention, and leaned over to try and catch your breath. 

“Come on!” You glanced up. He’d stopped a few yards up ahead, he was glaring at you, impatiently waiting for you to get a move on. You groaned, taking in a deep breath and forcing your feet to move again. 

“Please, can I just have a sip of water?”

He grinned and pulled out the canteen. You felt the briefest amount of energy shooting back through you at the prospect of water. Your hands reached for it but he snatched it away and took a deep gulp. You licked your lips, mouth feeling even dryer while you watched him guzzle the last of his water down. 

You felt yourself deflate again, too tired to even get properly mad at him. He was just being a dick now. “Fuck you,” you muttered, brushing past him and continuing ahead. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he caught up with you. Not like it was hard, you were going the pace of a turtle right now. 

You felt like a panting dog under the summer sun, practically drooling in an attempt to keep your throat moistened. You pulled the zipper of the vault suit down and tied the sleeves around your waist. 

“I’d keep that zipped if I were you.” You knew he was talking about, the black slip you had on underneath the suit. Probably not smart to go advertising your assets like this, you had no idea had bad the people out here were. But so far you hadn’t seen anyone for miles and you needed a few minutes to try and dry the sweat on your back. 

You didn’t bother responding to him, it was a waste of breath at this point. “You ignoring me now?” You grunted, reaching up to wipe off your forehead and slick the hairs off your skin. “You wouldn’t want the water anyway, unless you got a purifier everything you’ll find out here is radiated to all hell.”

“You were still an asshole,” you muttered. 

He scoffed, glancing over at you before looking back out at the horizon. “We’ll be coming up on an old town, see if you can find yourself some supplies while we’re passing through.” You glanced over at him but he was walking ahead of you again. 

You wondered if this was his attempt at an apology or if he was just heading there because he needed something. Either way, it would provide you a break at least. 

“This is pathetic.”

You glared up at Cooper from where you sit curled up on the floor of an old house. “I’ll remind you that as of yesterday, to me, the most physical labor I had to do was switch out with a stunt double.”

He scoffed and shook his head, not bothering to respond. He walked past you and started rummaging around in drawers. From the abandoned bed rolls on the ground it was clear that somebody used to use this place as their base. You just wondered what sent them running. 

“Hey,” he barked, “we’re not staying here forever. Get a fucking move on.”

You groaned and slowly got to your feet, you stumbled to the other side of the house, rummaging around for anything you could change into or something to eat. You could hear Cooper moving around in the back of the house. He kept slamming drawers and cussing up a storm. 

You’re not sure what crawled up his ass and died but you figure it’s smart to just stay out of the way while he’s like this. 

She made his skin crawl. Being around her was just a constant reminder of what he’d had, who he’d been, and what he was now. Everytime she looked at him with those hurt eyes of hers he just wanted to shoot something. 

He hated feeling like this, almost like he was out of control. He knew what he was, he knew what he had to do to survive in a world like this. But she didn’t. She was naive to the way the Wastelands worked and innocent to the brutality she’d soon find herself in the middle of. 

He should have left her dying in the sand. He should have left her to choke to death in her pod. He was itching to get to Filly, the longer he stayed around her the more on edge he felt. He didn’t need someone slowing him down, she was a weakness and the Ghoul didn’t do weaknesses. 

His hands twitched towards the holster at his side and for a moment he really thought about it. Just sneaking up behind her and burying a bullet in her skull. He’d be getting rid of his problem and saving her from a lot of trouble in the future. She’d never do well in this new world, she was still someone from the old world. 

It would be a mercy to just put her out of her misery now. 

The button of the holster clicked as he popped it open. Slowly, he made his way towards the room she was in, the leather of his gloves creaking as he wrapped his hand around the handle of his gun. Quick, in and out. She wouldn’t even know what was happening before it was too late and the light in her eyes was out. 

Her back was to him, rummaging around in the wreckage of the room. She was completely vulnerable and exposed. Like she didn’t understand how easy it would be for someone to sneak up on her or she stupidly expected him to defend her. 

“Hey! I think I found something!”

His hand jolted away from his gun and he shook his head. What the fuck was he thinking? He still technically needed her for his business in Filly. “What?” He snapped. 

She let out a yelp and jumped. She whirled around on him, hand clutching her chest and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. It really would be easy to just take her out now. 

“Jesus,” he could tell when she was about to say his name. She’d bite her lip real hard and frown, she was doing it now. For a moment he was thinking about how they used to scare each other. They would make a stupid game of it and she would always hit him and yell, Jesus, Coop! 

He used to think it was hilarious. Now he was just resisting the urge to draw his gun on her. 

“What,” he enunciated each word, speaking to her like she was a child, “did you find?”

She glared at him and moved aside, showing him the stash of shit she’d uncovered. There were a lot of good supplies here, nothing he could use, but enough to stick in a pack for her. Only problem was nobody would leave all this here. Either they were coming back for it or whatever had killed them off was coming for it. 

“Hurry and pack this shit up, we need to get out of here.” When she didn’t move fast enough he snapped, “Now!” She knelt down, hurriedly scooping all the supplies into the ratty old bag on the ground next to them. 

He walked back towards the front of the house, pulling his gun out and surveying the destroyed houses. He didn’t see anybody but that didn’t mean shit anymore. Ever since Muldaver started bringing people into her cult the raiders seemed to have been getting smarter. They needed to get the fuck out and quick. 

“Alright, let's go!” He leaned back in the doorway, peering back into the house and waiting for her to pop out. There was a moment of silence and he frowned, slowly heading back into the house. 

A scream ripped out of the room, echoing into the empty streets of the neighborhood. He rushed back into the house and slowed down once he reached the hall. He could hear her talking to someone, yelling at them more like. He only heard two other voices, wouldn’t be too bad if he didn’t hear more approaching the front of the house. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. He flipped open the chamber of his gun, counting his bullets and trying to decide whether or not she was actually worth helping. 

“Well, ain’t you pretty?”

“Back the fuck off,” you clutched the backpack to your chest, gaze darting between the two men before you. Men was being generous, you’re sure they’d been men once but now they were just twisted freaks capable of nothing but violence. 

The one on the left smiled, blackened teeth making an appearance and the boils around his mouth shifting. You stumbled further back, nearly tripping over a toppled over couch. You only had so much room to move, you were gonna be backed into a corner soon and you didn’t want to think about what they would do to you then. 

The scalpel in your pocket could slit one of their throats but the other one would be on you before you could blink. Still, you kept your hand firmly wrapped around it while you glared at them. 

“You know,” the one on the right started. You could practically smell him from here, his hair so greasy it looked soaking wet. “You’re being awfully rude for someone who just helped herself to our supplies.”

“Pay the price pretty lady and we’ll let you go,” he leered and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the “price” was. You’d sooner slit your own throat then spread your legs for them. But you also weren’t about to give up the supplies in the bag you were holding. You may be new to this whole Wastelands thing, but you figured Cooper wasn’t going to share. If you didn’t get this bag out of here, you weren’t going to make it another day. 

“You got a working right hand, go fuck yourself.”

They laughed and moved in closer. “We got a fighter, Bart!”

“Sure do, Jed.”

You yelped, tripping over a loose plank of wood and falling on your ass, the scalpel flew out of your hand and skittered across the floor. You barely even breathed before they were pouncing on you. Rough hands gripped your ankles and dragged you across the splintered floor. They were more wild animals than men. 

You tried to kick out, screaming for help and flailing your fists wildly. You felt your hand connect with something hard and then there was a low groan of pain before your arms were being pinned. “No! Let me go!”

They started laughing, one of them tugging the sleeves of your suit off your waist and whistling at the slip underneath. You brought your knee up into his gut but it barely phased him. He just swatted your leg to the side like you were nothing to him. 

You could feel a visceral type of panic brewing in you. There were a lot of things worse than death. The prospect of these men actually getting their hands on you had you kicking out again. You tugged on your arms until you were sure you were doing more damage to yourself than to them. But you didn’t care, you couldn’t think, you were working on the base instinct to protect yourself. 

The sound of spurs echoed down the hallway before Cooper was turning the corner. He had his gun raised and was pointing it right at them. “I do believe the lady said no.”

“We found her first,” one of them let go of your suit to crouch in front of you. He looked like an animal guarding his territory. The other chuckled, barely sparing Cooper a glance. 

“Actually,” he cocked the hammer of his gun back, “you didn’t.”

You processed your ears ringing before you got to the gunshot. You couldn’t hear anything, a high pitched whining making your jaw clench in pain. Your arms went slack and you quickly pulled your pants back up, zipping the suit all the way to your throat. You rolled onto your hands and knees, barely cognizant of the puddle of blood you were dragging yourself through. 

Two arms wrapped around your waist and you acted without thought. You swung out blindly, yelling and clawing like a wild cat. “-nough! That’s enough, come on!” Cooper’s voice broke through the haze and you went limp with relief. 

He tightened his arms around you and dragged you to your feet. You glanced down at yourself, finally feeling the warmth seeping through your clothes. You were doused head-to-toe in those men’s blood. Your face was completely covered. 

You glanced to the right and had to suppress a gag. Brains and skull were mashed together in a disgusting puddle of gore, nothing left of the men who’d grabbed you. “Hey,” Cooper shook you slightly and your eyes shot back to his. “We need to leave now, they’ll be more coming.”

You nodded dumbly, not really sure you were processing what was actually going on. Half of you was still stuck thinking you had to keep fighting, the other half wanted to be back in the cryogenic pod. He wrapped a hand around your arm and shoved the bag into your arms. 

Then you felt something heavy being pressed into the palm of your hand. You glanced down, surprised to find one of his guns in your hand. “What’re-”

“Clearly, you need something to defend yourself. You still remember how to shoot, don't you?” You nodded, of course you did, he’s the one that taught you. “Good, now move your ass.” He gave you a rough shove and you stumbled over the bodies. 

One thing you were learning was that you didn’t get a whole lot of time to process things in the Wastelands. One minute you were on the floor being stripped and the next you were ducking behind an old house to avoid raiders. You didn’t linger on what happened, you tried to keep your mind firmly gripped in the present. You couldn’t give it too much thought or you’d shut down. 

Cooper moved ahead of you, slinking around the back of the neighborhood to make sure the coast was clear. You slid the straps of the bag over your shoulders and followed quietly after him. You made it to the border of the houses and figured you could relax a bit now. 

Clearly, they weren’t coming after you. They might have heard the gunshots but they had no clue where you were. Cooper wasn’t going to risk it though, he wrapped his hand around your arm again and roughly dragged you behind him. 

“Keep up, I’m not gonna come back for you if you fall behind.”

But he already had. He could have left you to those raiders. He came back for you, even he couldn’t deny that. 

“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” He glanced up at you and nodded wordlessly. You stacked the last piece of wood for the fire and sat back. He leaned forward, striking his knife against a rock and waiting for the sparks to catch. 

You watched without thought, mind lingering on the feeling of blood sticking to your skin and clothes. Everytime you moved bits of it flaked off or crusted further onto your skin. You were nearly ready to just claw your skin off to get rid of the feeling. 

“Here,” you glanced up, surprised to find him holding up a wet cloth. “Wipe your face off, you look fucking insane.”

You grabbed it, scrubbing at your face and hands until your skin was raw. “Thanks,” you muttered, tossing the cloth back to him. He caught it and tucked it in his pocket. It felt strange between you. You’re not sure what it was exactly. Maybe you were just projecting, still worked up from what happened earlier. 

It wasn’t a bad strange, per say, just odd. “Take first watch,” he ordered. You just nodded, watching as he leaned against the wall of the old house you were camped in. He pulled his hat over his eyes and stilled. You weren’t sure he was asleep until you heard a few light snores coming from him. 

You glanced down at the gun in your hands. You opened the chamber and counted the bullets before closing it again. It wasn’t like the guns he used to teach you with, that’s for sure. It was bigger, bulkier, probably had a bitch of a recoil too. But you could point and aim well enough, hopefully you wouldn’t need to fire off more than one shot if someone did bother you tonight. 

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, you know you shouldn’t. It’s up to you to make sure no one tries to slit your throat in your sleep. But the events of the day caught up to you faster than you thought they would and before you knew it you were slumping back against the wall and dead to the world. 

Your eyes snap open at the sound of wood creaking. There’s a man, he looks like the ones from today, standing over Cooper. He’s got his knife hovering above his throat. You’re pulling the trigger before you can even think about what you’re doing. 

He lets out a howl of pain and slumps onto the floor. Cooper’s eyes shoot open and he jumps up, he pulls out his own gun but the man is already dead before he can pull the trigger. You stare at the body in shock, mind running so fast you can’t even process what you’re thinking. 

“I killed him,” you muttered. You can feel the gun slipping out of your grasp, hands shaking too badly to keep a good grip on it. “I killed him.”

Cooper walks over and picks the gun back up. He sticks it into the pocket of your backpack and grabs your face. You wince slightly as his fingers push against the bruises on your cheeks but don’t complain. He’s not being rough like you’ve come to expect. 

He stares at you for a long moment, eyes boring into yours with an unreadable expression. “I just killed him,” you whisper again. You’re still trying to reconcile with that fact. You knew it would happen eventually, today had taught you that much. But you hadn’t expected it to shock you as much as it had. 

Maybe it’s because you didn’t manage to blow his head off with one shot. You watched as the light left his eyes. 

“You did a good job, we need to move now, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

And despite what you’d just done, you could really only focus on the fact that was the first time he’d called you that without sounding cruel. 

You were getting closer to Filly, you could see a large forest a couple miles ahead of you. Being closer to the trees, even by such a little amount, was doing wonders in improving your mood. You found you didn’t mind the sun and heat as much when you just kept reminding yourself that soon you could find some shade. 

You passed by an old sunken billboard, Filly spray painted across it with an arrow pointing the way. You found yourself pushing Cooper further ahead today, more and more excited to find somewhere with halfway civilized people. 

You made it to the edge of the forest before Cooper stopped you. He threw his bag down next to a fallen log and pointed up towards the sky. “Sun’s setting, trust me, you don’t want to be exploring these woods after dark.”

The ominous tone had chills raising along your arms, you frowned and glanced towards the dense grove of trees. Something within them trilled out towards the night sky. You found yourself scooting a little closer to him, wary of what was waiting in there for you. 

He huffed out a laugh and started building a fire. You dug through your bag, pulling out the few rations you’d gleaned from the raiders. You held one out to him but he shook his head and pulled out his odd looking jerky instead. 

You’re not really sure what that shit is made of, but you know you don’t want to know. You were too afraid to ask him. Especially after you tried a bite the other day, it didn’t taste like any meat you recognized. 

You ate in a comfortable silence, the sound of your chewing drowned out by the insects flitting around in the trees above you. But he kept glancing at you, giving you odd looks that had you on edge. “What?” You finally snapped, sick of him looking at you weird. 

You hadn’t felt clean since you’d crossed the desert, but after what happened yesterday your skin was crawling with shame and disgust. You felt like you needed to scrape the skin off until you felt clean. He was making you feel even worse. 

“So,” he leaned back against the log. He took his time getting comfortable, letting you squirm before he deigned to finish his sentence. “You really didn’t leave for Vault-Tec?”

You glared at him and shook your head. Why did he still think that? How could he think that? It pissed you off to no end. “Why in God’s name would I do that?” Your tone was indignant. But there was a slightly desperate undertone to it as well. You hated the thought of Cooper genuinely thinking that you had just up and left him one day without a word. 

“Well, I don’t know. I looked for you for a while. Eventually I gave up, figured you’d just found someone else to shack up with.”

You were pained that he would think that of you. “How could you say that?”

He chuckled but it wasn’t kind, it was that cruel laugh that made you feel small, like something to be squashed under his boot. “Well, not like we meant a whole lot to each other.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Not fully processing what he was trying to say to you. “What?”

It took you by surprise, the hatred in his eyes when he glared at you. “What do you think happened, sweetheart?” You hated the way your old nickname rolled off his tongue. It sounded tainted now, twisted by his cruelty. 

“You were at the peak of your career, the sexiest actress of your generation,” he sneered at you, yellowed teeth flashing in the firelight. Your fingers curled into your palms, broken nails digging dully into your cracked skin. His eyes ticked up in interest at your minute shift in behavior. He had always been good at reading people. Except he didn’t used to use that skill so horribly. 

He didn’t let up, digging further into you when he noticed your discomfort. “You were a sex symbol, darlin’ and I was freshly divorced. Did you really think any of that was love?” He scoffed and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. “No,” he shook his head and ripped off another piece of jerky, scoffing at you. “You really think I was gonna say no to a pretty young thing like you? You were just a hole to fill, honey. That’s all.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut, actually, you’d think you’d prefer that to how you feel right now. It was getting hard to get the air down your throat, you felt like you were suffocating on the smoke from the fire. Winded and you hadn’t even done anything. 

Everything, everything, he was saying was perfectly concocted to hurt you as much as fucking possible. He knew how you felt about your place in the world, how desperately you had crawled your way into being seen as something human. You’re sure he’s just saying this to hurt you, to keep you away. 

If you were more mature you might even just let it go, realize it was a childish attempt at hurting you and keep going. But this was a man you’d opened up to completely. To take those parts of yourself that he knew were vulnerable and wield them like a weapon against you was something you just couldn’t look past. Especially not after what happened yesterday. 

You clenched your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay and weakly nodded your head. “Alright. You’ve said your piece. You done?”

He nearly frowned, eyes lowering as he gave you an odd look over the fire. He seemed to be expecting something else. Maybe for you to fight back. Well, if that’s what he wanted he was going to be sorely disappointed. He’d just drained the fight out of you with a few measly insults. 

After a tense moment of silence he nodded. “Great,” you refused to look at him as you got up and grabbed your pack. 

“Where are you going?” he questioned, tone souring as you continued to avoid looking at him. 

“Far away from you as I can get,” you muttered, stalking off into the dead trees. You weren’t a complete idiot, you stayed in sight of the fire, but you couldn’t bear to lay so close to him tonight. Not after what he just said to you. Not after you thought you had finally been making progress and he threw that in your face. 

“Fine, pout all you want sweetheart, give the radroaches a nice meal!” He shouted at your retreating back. You still kept your head down, hand clutched over your stomach while you tried not to cry. You threw your bag down on the ground, a choked sob slipping through your lips while you sank against a tree. 

You felt so stupid! To actually believe that any of the man you loved was left in him had been a fool’s hope. You wiped your eyes harshly, pissed at yourself for crying again. This was the apocalypse, there wasn’t time to cry and moan because the man you loved didn’t love you back. 

You’d dealt with that feeling for years when you pined after Cooper. You could deal with it again. 

Only, the last time you’d pined like this, you hadn’t actually had a taste of what being with him was really like. Knowing that the whole time you were with him he just saw you as something to pass the time hurt you more than you wanted to admit. 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as he packed away the rest of his food and sank back against the log. He tilted his hat over his eyes and settled in for the night. You turned back around, using the dwindling light of the fire to scope out the forest before you. 

Cooper had said it was only a day’s walk to Filly. Go a mile north into the trees and you’d find the signs pointing the way. His cruel words festered bitterly in your stomach and you found yourself on your feet before you could really think about what you were doing. 

You crept your way towards the campfire and grabbed one of the burning sticks. Cooper shifted and you stilled, wincing as you waited for him to wake up and question what you were doing. But he just shifted onto his side. You ran back towards your bag and threw it over your shoulder. 

You only spared Cooper one last look before you made your way further into the woods. He’d made it clear enough that he wasn’t looking for companionship or friendship. You could respect that, but you weren’t going to tolerate him being a fucking dick to you at every opportunity he got. 

If he wanted to see how far he could push you until you reached the edge, he’d done it. You were done trying to cater to his temper. You could make it a day on your own. After that, you’d find something for yourself in Filly, but you were sure as hell done with Cooper Howard. 

He was a ghost that should have stayed fucking dead. 

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end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series

[bc17-writes]

The Hand That Feeds - Chapter 1

Uhhh my fic got 10K+ hits on AO3 so I thought I'd post the first chapter here while I'm working on chapter 9 and some drabble like things okay cool thanks (no use of y/n)

(I also haven't used tumblr since college so if anyone has any hints, tips, tricks let me know)

Summary: You're Simon's pregnant new neighbor.

chapter specific c/w: none

Ghost is a creature of habit - most every moment of his life is structured into routines. Missions broken down to the minute, with backup plans upon backup plans. Days on base divided into blocks - trainings, briefings, meal times. Mornings and evenings in his apartment scheduled by the minute. Ghost thrives when he knows what to expect.

What he does not expect is opening the door of his Manchester apartment at zero two hundred hours to leave for his morning run, and seeing you stumble on the uneven carpet in the hallway before him. You’re half his size, dressed not dissimilarly to himself in an oversized black hoodie and joggers. The cardboard box you hold nearly flies out of your hands before he reacts, grabbing the scruff of your hoodie with one hand and steadying the box with the other.

“Christ,” he says, putting you back to rights. His voice is deep and rough with disuse. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, thank you” you reply. “Not sure what happened.”

“Carpet’s fucked. ‘Sall uneven.” He watches you set the box down before the door of the recently vacated apartment next to his.

You pull out a lanyard from your pocket, loaded with too many keys and trinkets to keep track of, looking through them for the right one.

“It’s silver. With a square head.”

You find it almost immediately and thank him, again, opening the door and nudging the box in with your foot. You don’t lock it back.

Ghost narrows his eyes at that.

“Looks like we’re neighbors!” You give him your name and hold out a hand with a smile.

To him, it is blinding as the sun. You are resplendent, even with red, sleepy eyes and road-trip hair. You are stunning, in shapeless clothes with a few crumbs on your hoodie.

You smile at him despite his black mask and hood pulled so far over his head he knows his eyes are hidden in shadows.

He takes your hand in one of his gloved ones, and you shake it firmly, unflinchingly, the smile never leaving your face. You don’t divert your eyes, like the anonymous people he passes on his runs, or at the pub. You don’t shy away like the cashier at the little shop where he buys his tea. You don’t cower or flinch, like mothers moving their children from his view when he picks up meat at the butcher’s.

“I’m Simon.”

+

“Who pissed in your tea this morning, Ghost?” Captain Price asks, leaning back on the cool wall next to Ghost. “Really running the recruits through the ringer today.”

“L.T. didn’t get his tea this morning.” Soap interjects slyly from Ghost’s other side, before he can respond.

“Watch it, Johnny,” Ghost growls.

“Rolled up late, right before PT. Didn’t even have time for a ‘cuppa’”

“Soap!” Ghost snaps, not turning from the recruits.

“Late?” Price asks, incredulously.

“Wasn’t late. Got here when I was ‘sposed to.”

“Just later than every single other day.”

Ghost clenches his jaw, crossed arms tightening minutely across his chest. Soap obviously has a death wish.

Price hums in consideration and Ghost can feel the Captain’s eyes boring into him.

-

Simon had ended up helping you move the rest of your things from your ancient van, loading them onto a small flatbed cart so you didn’t have to bring them up the elevator one by one. He didn’t let you lift a finger. He brought them into your apartment, with your permission, and deposited them into their corresponding rooms, each mirrored from his own, just on the other side of the wall.

You’d filled the silence easily, despite the early hour and your obviously sleep-deprived state, not requiring him to speak much, and hardly asking him questions.

You’d puttered about, unboxing a few of your things, and told him a little about your job as a translator as he set up your tiny desk and computer.

You’d interjected multiple times about how he didn’t have to, how he’d helped enough, how he probably had somewhere to be considering he looked like he was on the way out already. Each time he’d say he’d be on his way if you wanted and each time you shook your head.

You’d offered him coffee and compensation, both of which he refused, counter-offering with his number and the offer to call him if you needed help with anything else. You nodded in agreement, texting him immediately with your name and apartment number.

You never asked about the mask.

He’d had enough time afterwards for a smoke and a brief shower, but not much else, abandoning his usual morning run and tea before leaving for the base.

+

Ghost clenches his jaw under his mask, refusing to give Price his attention.

“Come see me after lunch, Ghost.” Price says before walking away, not even waiting for a response.

“Don’t fucking try that again Soap,” Ghost growls under his breath.

Johnny just laughs.

+

Simon makes his way to Price’s office after lunch, closing the door behind him and leaning back on it.

“Take a seat, Simon,” Price says calmly, motioning to the plush leather chair in front of his desk.

“‘m alright, sir.”

Price sighs, shuffling the folders on his desk to the side and folding his hands atop it. “About what Soap said… Son, I don’t want you to think you need to be here any more than you have to. It’s good to have a life at home. Hobbies or- whatever you want. I trust you with my life. Have your tea at home. As long as you are where you’re supposed to be and when, I want you to enjoy your life outside of all this.”

Ghost hardly holds back a scoff at the idea - at having a home that isn’t just walls and a too soft mattress where he lays, unsleeping, glaring at the ceiling, keeping the night terrors at bay. “That all, sir?”

“That’s all. Dismissed.”

+

When Simon finally gets back to his apartment that night, he finds a six-pack of beer in front of his door, with a thank you note in your handwriting.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

[lover-of-mine]

Hello love, I read your masterpost about color theory and I find the last part about how Eddie is wearing a lot of black in season 7 interesting, because it caught my attention too.

Do you have any more ideas about that? Because every episode we get more moments of Eddie wearing black in important scenes, like him meeting Shannon's clone in today's episode!

Have a good day!

Hi, darlings, thoughts on the black. I have thoughts on the black and I have theories about the black, but I actually only solidified them after talking about it with @stagefoureddiediaz and honestly, if you want costume analyses she's the blog to go because her insights get me mindblown all the time because she talks a lot about patterns I kinda saw but didn't fully understand were there, so seriously, props to her with this one.

But to talk about Eddie in black, I'm gonna go back to Shannon in s2. And his love interests in general.

Shannon was a character that was always wearing color, and she always wore warm, bright tones, and considering Eddie's earthy, somewhat muted, still army colors palette, she literally brings color to his life. They go as far as making this quite literal in 213, because the hospital scene, Shannon is literally a point of color in this very dark moment, since most people around are in darker colors, her orange stands out. And obviously, the yellow she died in is a staple.

Ana was very muted when it was about the 2 of them, she was allowed color when it was about Chris, but about Eddie, it was black, white, or soft colors.

Marisol also follows that same pattern, she's mostly in black and white adjacent stuff, but she was allowed color during Chris' date and when Eddie was daydreaming Shannon. But with Marisol is worse, because Ana was allowed he's baby blue outfits, and Eddie had color around her, Marisol is just whites, greys, and blacks. And Eddie too. She brings no color to the table.

And the thing is, Eddie has been looking for the yellow. In very simple terms the dude has been looking for the color he thinks Shannon was supposed to bring to his life. I think that was even more exemplified by the way the daydream about Shannon didn't have the usual muted colors flashbacks have in the show.

And the thing is, black is the absorption of all colors, right? Dude is trying to find something to absorb, to get that color, but he has nothing to show for it because these relationships don't bring color to his life in any way. I think this even ties to the way he keeps getting hit by the sun when it comes to Buck or gets some random pops of color even if his outfit is black when he's around Buck, maybe even the random rainbow lens fair that keeps happening this season on him. But he is trying to force something that's not there and it's never gonna be there, if you mix black with white all he's gonna keep getting is grey. And when you think about the implications of black, the association with mystery, something hidden, and, yeah, even mourning, Eddie being consistently in black can also be a way for him to hide behind the ghost of Shannon and never face what he's actually searching for, because he can't get what he wants. He will never have the future he planned with Shannon, he's never gonna be able to fix the mistakes he's made. He needs Shannon to tell him is okay he fucked up, but that can never happen because she's dead so he's holding on to the widow status. It's something I talk about a lot, Eddie was always written to be the tortured widower, even when Shannon was alive, he already had the archetype, and considering we found out they met when they were 14, Shannon is literally all he knows, but the Eddie we meet and deal with, only knows her when she left him and he's searching for that color the plans you can only make when you're a teenager going through you first love give. But considering the black he also has nothing to give this woman he meets in this quest, he's not reflecting anything back because he wants a do-over and that's not something someone can give him.

Also, no one asked but I gotta say it, I am obsessed with the way Kim is blue where Shannon was yellow/orange, but she is also in neutral colors when interacting with Eddie.

And he is still very much in black interacting with her.

But the blue/yellow thing is interesting because when you look at a color wheel, they are on opposite sides. They are complementary colors and complementary colors create contrast and it's very deliberate the way Shannon was warm-toned and Kim is cool-toned.

But the idiot (affectionate) is still in black, because he's not reflecting what he needs, he's absorbing what he thinks he wants.

But that's just a theory, a game theory. (Sorry, I read this back and my brain filled the space with this, I had to say it okasoasoaksas)

if you read this, I love you 💜

#911 #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 meta #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

[missanthrory]

You know, throwing this out there completely randomly, we really don't talk enough about Zhao from Avatar. Like his story is absolutely wild. Man was trained by Jeong Jeong, freaking found Wan Shi Tong's library, found out about the solar eclipse from the library, burned a section of the library down, escaped from that alive, captured the avatar, successfully breached the walls of the Northern Water Tribe which had never been done, and killed the freaking moon spirit. Like he is a bastard and regularly loses to teenagers, but you can't deny it's quite the resume.

#can see why he made admiral #ozai could never #very much not defending anything he's done #not my poor little meow meow #but you do have to acknowledge what kind of driven unhinged person could do even half of what he did #ATLA #weird tangent #was thing about the day of the black sun today #zhao #also quite frankly he's lucky to have lived as long as he did #assuming he's dead in fog #man had zero self preservation instincts when it came to powerful spirits

[drudyslut]

— summary: you meet up with your favorite biker guy to backpack him for a day, and things get very heated very fast.

— CW: 18+ only! meeting up with a stranger (don’t do that), putting out for a stranger (oops, i’d fold if it were biker!rafe too), biker guy!rafe, semi public sex (it’s at the top of a parking deck thing😭😂), fingering, hair pulling, male receiving oral, unprotected sex, ass and pussy slapping (like once), lots of dirty talk and praise.

— a/n: ah fuck. my obsession with biker men got the best of me here. my wet fucking dream. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

❥ ride — r.c

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I had been following him on Instagram and TikTok for months, and he lived in my town! So when I finally found the courage to send him a DM on Instagram joking about backpacking him for a day, I never in a million years imagined that he would actually respond — and say yes!

I’m finishing up the final touches of my makeup in front of my full length mirror that sits in the corner of my room when I hear my phone go off, letting me know I have a text.

Standing from the floor, I make my way to my nightstand and grab my phone. I open it to see that he has texted me.

Rafe: Hey! I’m out front whenever you’re ready.

I smile at the text and type out a quick response. Pocketing my phone, I rush to slip on my high top converse and grab my hoodie, tossing it over my head and rushing out of my bedroom and front door.

Making my way down the steps I come to a stop at the bottom, my breath catching in my throat when I see him leaned against the side of his bike. He looks deliciously good today. He wears a pair of tight, black jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. He pairs the outfit with a pair of white Nikes with a black Nike check in the middle of either side.

He doesn’t have his helmet on, and the sight of his bright blue eyes sparkling under the sun has my thighs tightening. He never shows his face on his social media, only his eyes if he flips the visor of his helmet up, and he rarely does that. He has the most perfect full lips, a defined jawline and his hair sits messy on top of his head. This man is the epitome of perfection.

“Y/N, right?” He asks, his low voice pulling me from my trance.

I swallow the saliva that’s built up in my mouth from looking at him and nod my head quickly. “Yeah, that’s me! Rafe, right?” I ask. But I already know. The bike he came to pick me up on lets me know it is in fact him.

He smiles widely. “That’s me. You ready? Have you ever rode before? Even just on the back?”

My hands begin to slightly shake, all of a sudden clammy. I’m nervous. But who wouldn’t be? This gorgeous man, with a large following on social media is here to pick me up, and take me riding with him for the day. Any woman in my position would be nervous too. Well, not all women, but the women like me.

“No.” I answer honestly. I watch his lips quirk up into a smirk, and I internally fist pump that he didn’t change his mind. Happy that he didn’t say “never mind, it’s not worth the hassle of teaching you”

He takes a step toward me, reaching his right hand out for me to take. I place my hand in his and pray that he can’t feel how nervous I am. He leads me toward his bike, releasing my hand and grabbing the extra helmet he’d brought with him. He turns, and when his blue eyes land on mine again, I swear I feel my heart skip a beat.

“I’m just gonna slide this on you, that okay?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He nods once and then moves to slip the sleek black helmet over my head. Once it’s on good, his fingers move down to the straps under my chin. When his fingers brush across the skin, a shiver runs through my body. Once he has it strapped in place, he steps back and lifts the visor so he can see my eyes. “Fits perfectly. You look cute in that.”

I laugh nervously. “Thank you.”

He gives me one last smile before turning and grabbing his own helmet, placing it on his head and strapping it in place. He turns to face me again, and my panties grow wet at the sight in front of me. I don’t know what it is, but him with his helmet on is so fucking sexy.

“‘M just gonna press this button on your helmet, it’ll allow you to hear me while we’re riding.”

I nod my head and stand still as he steps toward me again, pressing a small button on the helmet I didn’t know was there. He steps back and asks, “Can you hear me?”

I giggle. “Yeah, I can hear you. That’s so cool!”

I hear him chuckle and the sound makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. “Yeah, me and my friends bought these so we can communicate while we ride, if we get separated and can’t use our hand signals. Plus, it’s fun to fuck with them this way too.”

He turns back to his bike and grabs a pair of black and white riding gloves from a drawstring bag, shoving them on his hands before turning to me once more. He claps his hands together and begins explaining the basics of riding on the back.

“So, I’ll hop on and you’ll sit on this seat behind me, and place your feet on these pegs.” He pats the seat and points to the foot pegs. “While we’re riding, wrap your arms tightly around my waist, and if I lean in a certain direction, you lean with me. It makes it easier to navigate turns and what not.” He pauses again, thinking of what else he needs to go over. He finally speaks again. “Oh! And if you get scared or want me to slow down, just tap my thigh. It’ll let me know to slow down for you.”

I nod my head and let him know I understand. Satisfied with everything he’s told me, and knowing I’m comfortable he tosses his drawstring bag onto his back and climbs onto his bike, starting it up. The engine roars to life and he turns his head to face me, nodding it toward him to let me know I can get on. I swing my right leg over the back of the bike, setting my ass onto the seat and wrap my arms tightly around his waist like he’d said to do.

I hear him through the speaker in the helmet as his hand taps my thigh. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

-

An hour later, Rafe is pulling up to the top of a parking deck. The two of us had rode non stop for the last hour, and to say it was one of the most exhilarating and memorable experiences of my life would be an understatement.

He pulls the bike to a stop, shutting off the engine and putting out the kickstand before he climbs off. He keeps his hand on my thigh to keep me upright as he gets off the bike, and then he grabs at my left hand and helps me off next.

I pop the clip of the straps under my chin, letting them fall loose before I pull the helmet up and off my head. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the knots that had formed during the ride. After a few seconds of — and actually failing — trying to tame the knots, I finally decide to just toss my hair into a high ponytail.

As I’m securing the ponytail holder in my hair, Rafe’s voice catches my attention. “So, was it everything you thought it’d be?”

I finish putting my hair up and turn to smile at him. “Absolutely. That was… So much fun.” I breathe out.

He smiles and takes two long strides toward me, making my breath catch in my throat and my thighs tighten. This man is so fucking sexy it hurts, and the fact that I’m alone with him, it has my heart pounding and my pussy throbbing. But we don’t know one another, nothing would ever happen between us. He was just being nice today, allowing me to ride with him. I bet he does this a lot. I’m nothing special.

Once he stands directly in front of me, I swear my knees almost give out. His intoxicating scent fills my nose, the warmth radiating off his body envelopes me. He reaches his right hand out, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I gotta say, you looked absolutely beautiful on my bike.”

My heart begins pounding rapidly in my chest, my hands shaking. I swear, this man is going to be my downfall. If he asked me to drop to my knees right here, right now, I don’t think I’d have the strength to tell him no.

I laugh nervously. “Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself on there.”

A wide grin spreads across his lips, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. He cups my cheek with his right hand, brushing his thumb across my skin. “Can I kiss you?”

My eyes go wide. Did the Rafe Cameron just ask if he could kiss me? I have to be dreaming right now. My eyes find his, searching for any sign that he’s just fucking with me. But I never find it. His blue eyes are darkened over, and hold nothing but seriousness in them.

I feel my legs turn to jello, and the only thoughts running through my mind are his lips on mine. His cock buried inside my wet cunt, down my throat. My eyes flick down to his plump lips and back to his eyes. He takes my silence as an invitation, dipping his head down and pressing his lips with mine.

The kiss starts out softly at first, but then he quickly deepens it. His tongue glides across my slightly parted lips, a low groan emitting from his chest before he forces his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues brush against one another, fighting for dominance before he finally wins. My entire body is on fire, my thighs tightening and my arousal soaks my thong. Fuck, I need more of him.

When he finally breaks his lips from mine, we’re both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling as his lust filled eyes search mine. I decide to be bold, the worst he can do is shove me away, right? My right hand slides between our bodies, finding his hard cock and palming him through the rough fabric of his black jeans. He hisses in a breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby. You sure you want this?”

A shiver runs up my spine at the low, raspy tone of his voice. Sexual tension is thick in the cool fall air, making it feel warmer than it is outside. My entire body screaming at me to let him have me, while my mind is screaming to run the other way. I don’t know him. I only follow him on social media. But he’s so fucking sexy. He’s so confident in himself, and I need to feel what it’s like to have him. Even if it’s just a one time thing, even if he is a stranger to me, my body fucking craves him like a drug I can’t get enough of.

My eyes find his and a mischievous smile forms on my lips. “I’m sure.”

I feel his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his jeans, and I smile knowing that it’s me who has this man all worked up. He slaps my hand away from his hard-on, his own hands quickly working the button and zipper of his jeans. He slides the black material down his legs, before shoving his boxers down as well, the material pooled at his feet. His strong hands grip my shoulders, shoving me down to my knees.

I wince when my knees hit the hard concrete beneath me. I shake away the feeling of the rough ground digging into my knees through my jeans, and focus on the hard, long and thick cock that stands erect in front of my face. I bite at my bottom lip before lightly grasping the thick base of him in my right hand. I stroke him softly, running my hands up and down, from the base to the swollen pink tip. Removing my hand, I gather saliva in my mouth and spit down into my palm before gripping him again.

I stroke him softly, toying with the head of his cock before running my hands back down the base. He growls in frustration, his hands falling to the back of my head and gripping at the high ponytail I’d put my hair into. He yanks my head up, forcing my eyes on his. “You like playing games? Suck my fucking cock, baby. Or else I promise, when it comes time to please you, I’ll play the games right fucking back, and you won’t like it when I win.”

I smirk up at him, letting out a small whimper at the tone in his voice and the feeling of his hands in my hair. He loosens his grip on my head, allowing me to drop my head back down. My tongue darts out of my mouth and I lick up the vein that’s on the underside of his cock. He moans when my tongue reaches his tip, now red and angry as precum leaks from it. I slide my tongue over the slit on the tip of his dick, gathering his precum onto my tongue. I close my eyes and hum in appreciation. “You taste so good, Rafe.”

He growls, his fingers wrapping around my ponytail once more and shoving my mouth onto his cock. He shoves himself all the way down my throat, pulling a small gag from me. I look up at him through my lashes, his head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows. Slowly, he pulls my head back, strings of my saliva coating his dick.

“‘M gonna fuck this pretty mouth, then, I’m going to bend you over this fucking bike and take you from behind. Alright?”

I whimper in response and he lets out a dark laugh. I suck in one more breath before he shoves himself back in my throat. Tears fill my eyes as I breathe through my nose. His thrusts are harsh and sloppy, his tip repeatedly abusing the back of my throat. But I don’t fucking care. This man can fucking ruin me, and I’ll thank him when he’s done.

The sounds of my gags and his grunts fill the air as he continues to abuse my throat. His thrusts begin to grow sloppier, his dick swelling in my mouth. I feel him twitch inside my mouth and then he’s yanking my head back, spit attached to his dick and my mouth go flying at his roughness.

I suck in an appreciative breath of air, my hand over my chest as it heaves up and down. He wraps his fingers around my left arm, pulling me to my feet and turning me so my back is to him. “Jeans down, now.” He demands, and I quickly obey.

My jeans are pooled at my feet, the only thing left covering me from him is the black lace thong I chose to wear today. I gasp loudly when I feel his hand slap harshly against my ass, the sting it left behind delicious. He runs his fingers over my clothed pussy, and I can’t contain the moan that slips free. “You’re fucking soaked, baby. All f’me?”

I nod my head, tears falling past my lower lashes. “Yes. Fuck, yes. All for you, Rafe.”

His fingers slide my panties to the side, baring my soaked pussy to him. I hear him groan from behind me. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. I can’t wait to feel it squeezing my cock.”

He runs his fingers through my wet folds, gathering my arousal on them before he shoves to inside me without warning. I cry out, my back arching and allowing him better access. He slowly pushes two thick digits in and out of me, his thumb pressed firmly against my clit and rubbing lazy circles around it. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. Gotta stretch you out before I shove my cock inside you, think you can handle a third finger?”

I whimper, my head falling forward and dangling over the other side of the bike. “Yes.” I say breathlessly.

He lets out a low growl before adding a third finger into my sensitive pussy. “That’s it baby girl, take my fingers. You’re almost ready for my cock.”

Whimpers and whines fall from my lips, my hips roll against his hand, fucking myself onto his fingers. The squelching noise my pussy makes while his fingers fuck me have my mind going fuzzy and my toes curling within the confines of my high top converse.

I feel myself clench tightly around his fingers as that warm feeling builds inside me. My orgasm nearing. I clench around him again, my legs shaking uncontrollably as I come undone around his fingers.

He quickly pulls his fingers from inside me, the hand that was just fucking me slaps harshly at my now overly sensitive cunt, making me scream. “Fuck me, Rafe! I need you inside me, now! Please..? Please fuck me.”

He chuckles, and I turn my head to see him with the three fingers he just fucked me with shoved into his mouth. He sucks and licks them clean, pulling them out and giving me a mouth watering smirk. “Taste so fuckin’ good. Gonna have to take you home with me after this and devour that sweet cunt of yours.”

I sigh in frustration, wiggling my ass back and forth, silently begging him to fuck me. I hear him step toward me, and then I feel his swollen head running through my slick folds. His head teases at my entrance before he slowly pushes it inside me. “Fuck!” I shout, and he chuckles. He slowly pushes himself inside me, inch my inch until he’s buried inside me, his balls lightly brushing at my sensitive clit.

He groans. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. Pussy feels s’good wrapped around my dick.”

I let out a soft whine when he slowly pulls himself from inside me, slamming himself back in seconds later. His hands find my hips, gripping them tightly as he begins to roughly fuck himself into me. My tits are smushed against the seat of his bike, my head dangling over the other side as my hands grip at the foot peg in front of me for balance.

Each push and pull of his cock has me seeing stars, my legs turning to jello once more. A feeling of pure euphoria washes over me, and I know my second orgasm is about to explode from me. “Goddamnit, Rafe! ‘M so close, so fuckin’ close!”

One harsh thrust has the band snapping and my pussy pulsing. My second release washes over me. I lift onto the tips of my toes, screaming his name out to the world as I come undone around his thick cock.

He doesn’t let up, he continues pounding into me ruthlessly. My body goes numb, my brain foggy and blood rushing to my ears. All I can hear are the sounds of his balls slapping against my pussy and the wet, squelching noise my pussy makes with each push and pull of his hips. He lies his front on top of my back, his lips ghosting over my ear as he whispers. “Hope you’re on birth control, ‘cause I’m coming in this sweet fucking cunt.”

I whine, my eyes rolling into the back of my head when I feel his cock swell inside me. He places a hot kiss on the sweat slick skin of my neck, his teeth sinking into the skin when his dick twitches inside me. He lets out a low groan, thrusting forward once more before he still inside me, letting the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside me. Marking me with his seed.

He lies on top of me for a few seconds, breathing heavily before he slowly pulls himself from inside me. A shudder wracks my body at the feeling of his thick cock sliding out, leaving me feeling empty and suddenly cold.

He pulls something from his bag, bringing it between my legs and wiping me clean. I look at him from behind my shoulder, and give a small smile. Once he’s finished cleaning me up, I fix my panties and lean forward to pull my jeans back up my legs. It’s awkwardly silent, and that alone makes me uncomfortable. Does he regret what we just did? Does he wish he didn’t have to make the awkward ride back with me back to my place?

All the thoughts running through my mind vanish when I feel his lips on mine. “Stop that.” He says once he pulls away.

I frown. “Stop what?”

His hands cup my cheeks and he smiles down at me. “Thinking. I can see it written all over your face.” He pauses, kissing the top of my forehead, and the act alone has my stomach erupting with butterflies again. “I meant what I said, I’m taking you home and devouring that sweet cunt, you got a thirty minute ride to prepare yourself for a long night baby.” He says with a wink, and then he turns to get us ready for the ride back to his house.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #biker!rafe #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #praise k!nk

[donatellawritings]

Would you ever do a part 2 to sweetheart reader and rafe’s breakup? I wanna see how they get back together 🥰

it had been about three months, since rafe had let you go, his oh-so doting sweetheart, the apple of his very eye. with the news of rafe cameron no longer having his latin sweetheart under his arm spreading around the island like a rancid wildfire, it didn’t take long for rafe to find himself regretting his decision. but make no mistake, rafe had made it his business to keep a watchful eye on your every move, and making sure to remain undetected while doing so. i mean, at the end of the day, you would always be his sweet girl and what kind of a man would he be, if he didn’t watch over you.

and sure, it took you a few weeks to find your footing as a now single and absolute knockout of a woman, yet you stood your ground — remaining tooth-achingly sweet to everyone who came your way, even when you’d politely reject their shameless advances towards you. and boy, did you make rafe’s sick little heart swell with pride as you made sure to keep a piece of him around you at all times, your gifted tiffany & co tennis bracelet constantly glinting against the north carolina sun with each passing day.

but, you were always such an emotional and overly-sensitive doll — and today just happened to be one of those days where you couldn’t seem to get your papi, rafe out of your pretty little head.

“i just — i want him with me!” you sobbed, streaky and watery black tinged tears rolling down your blush and concealer-enhanced cheeks as you pursed your puffy lips into a tearful pout, “he’s supposed to be mine!” you whined, your swollen tits stretching and heaving against rafe’s prized collegiate t-shirt as you took hiccuping breaths.

you poor cousin, kiara could only take so much of your incessant sobs and heartfelt rambles, until she’d taken the liberty of personally contacting rafe, a task that she wouldn’t even dream of doing, if it were for any person, aside from you, her doting and oh-so lovesick cousin.

you see, today was supposed to be a simple sleepover, the two of you had made it a tradition to spend one night together, where you could catch up on the latest gossip, prance around in nothing but pathetically poor excuses for panties and oversized t-shirts, while pampering each other with messily applied clay face masks and smeared mani-pedis. and sure, kiara missed those cherished moments with you, but she was painfully aware that you had been keeping up a facade since the moment rafe brought you back home. and she had to give you credit for it, you made it a point to keep your cool in public, you didn’t want to be a bother so you maintained your doll-like appearance and poise mannerisms.

yet, she couldn’t ignore the way you cried yourself to sleep at night — the walls that separated your bedrooms were far too thin.

it didn’t take long for rafe to respond to your concerned cousin — and it was crystal clear to him that it was time to bring you back home. the anxious young man had paid his dues, hell, the pain of not having you around was nearly enough to have him cave after the first twenty-four hours of him breaking things off. but, he had to make good on his promise — he had to become a man, not only for you, but for the sake of his own sanity, or what was left of it.

after about fifteen minutes of you struggling to put together a coherent sentence, you rubbed the tip of your button nose, with a defeated sniffle, licking over you dried lips as you wiped your watery bambi eyes with the back of your hand. you had cried yourself to exhaustion, your pretty little head throbbing from your hysterics as you dozed into a light sleep. you were so out of it, you didn’t even realize that kiara had left your bedroom.

rafe was careful with his footsteps as he entered your bedroom, dressed in a crisp button-up and ironed slacks as he sighed at the sight of you sound asleep. his bright blues didn’t miss the streaks of dried tears that clung to your cherub cheeks, your swollen lips slightly parted as crouched at your bedside, a soft smile on his pink lips as he ran a gentle hand over your messy hair.

letting his greed get the best of him, rafe pressed his eager lips to the apple of your cheek, his fingernails lightly scratching at your scalp as he soothingly lulled you out of your sleep, “hi, baby,” he mumbled, loud enough for your doe eyes to widen as your lips pursed into a wobbly pout, warm tears burning at your waterline.

bringing your small hand to knuckle away the troublesome tears that threatened to spill, you let out a needy whimper, “m-missed you,” you mewled, wispy lashes now clumpy with tears.

“hey-hey, c’mon mama, please don’t start cryin’,” rafe breathes out, pulling your hands away from your flushed face as the two of you finally lock eyes for the first time in months, “fuck — m’so sorry, my princess,” rafe sighs, each and every ounce of his resolve dissipating as he brings your knuckles to his lips, peppering soft kisses to the bony skin.

biting down into the fat of your bottom lip, you leaned up towards rafe, nudging his nose with yours, “can we go home,” you mutter, allowing your palms to cradle both sides of rafe’s chiseled face as his hold on your fists drop to your wrists, “w-we can talk about everything later, i just- i just missed you, papi,” you assure rafe, a soft smile tugging on your lips as he raises his glazed eyes to meet yours.

“yes, baby, we can go home,” rafe’s shoulders soften, his forehead leaning flushed against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “i kept my promise, baby — i kept my promise,” he speaks, more so to himself than to you as you nod at his words.

rafe deserved to be heard, and you’d always be a listening ear for him.

“i stopped using, a-and i got that boat y’liked so much, i got it just for you, mama — gonna take you wherever y’wanna go,” rafe rambles, leaving you a smiley mess as you simply gaze into his eyes with nothing, but naive love and adoration, “m’gonna be home more, and i—” rafe continued, getting lost in his own thoughts.

“i love you,” you cut in, a giddy smile now playing on your pretty face as rafe can’t help but blush at your words.

“i love you too, let’s go home,” rafe brings his lips to your forehead, allowing his tired eyes to flutter close as he soaks in the kiss for a moment, taking the time to breathe in your smell.

bringing your legs to hook around his waist, rafe keeps a secure hand over your ass as he carries you out of your bedroom, making sure to send kiara an appreciative nod as the two of you exit the home. it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, once you were secure in the passenger seat of rafe’s truck, soft snores leaving your parted lips as your soft cheek remained mushed against rafe’s firm shoulder, your hand securely interlaced with his.

rafe couldn’t ignore the way his eyes kept flickering down to your empty ring finger, his heart swelling at the mere thought of him finally having you all to himself, forever.

and he wouldn’t fuck it up, this time.

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #sweetheart!reader

[iznsfw]

Reputation, Or Whatever That Is

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut

7,063 words

Categories | daddy kink, brat!Wonyoung, squirting, blowjob, please appreciate Wonyoung's power bottom capabilities

Sorry, Yena is coming out sometime but I wanted to finally write something timely. JANG WONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCKKKKK.

Please bear with the religious metaphors, I have Catholic guilt and Wonyoung reignites it. I'm not sorry for all the other fucked up shit here I'm just ooga boogaing because what the FUCK

It’s a little brighter today than usual. The sun surely knows what's about to happen upon its rising. It has no plans of telling you beforehand, so you’re forced to find out yourself. 

You open Instagram, which is insane because you never bother to look at pictures—much less edited, filtered ones made for meaningless impressions. Your blissful ignorance of online concepts is what would make your fans hate you if they had space in their deluded hearts to. Or maybe that’s your age talking.

But today, clicking on that app is what you do, and that already should have been a sign that something’s not right. The usual run of your universe has gone off course. Who could have made that so?

Coffee. The black stillness that’s pure of sweetness and sugar. That’s supposed to keep everything normal. You sip on it as you scroll through clickbait, fan accounts, edits—

Then you wish you never took that hot gulp at all.

Wonyoung. 

It’s all because of her. 

She stands there from behind your screen, silky hair tangled in those lithe long fingers. She’s looking at the camera like she wants whoever took the time to click on her profile to come over and fuck her right now. Man or woman, poor or rich—it doesn’t matter. What ought to matter though is the fact that she doesn’t have someone’s hands slipped around her waist and pulling her close.

You shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

Usually, she’s dressed in knitted pink coats and miniskirts; looking fashionable but modest, modest but unplain. That’s what everyone loves about Jang Wonyoung: she’s prim, sweet, and the daughter of the nation. 

Now, she’s the ideal girl to take right home and have your wicked way with. Yes, you’d feel guilty since she’s so young, just the little age of nineteen. Still, that doesn’t mean you’d have any regrets. She’s the kind of girl you can’t get away from. You’ll always come back for more.

You’d hate to be so upfront, but there’s no other way to interpret it. 

There’s that fucking denim bra hugging her tiny chest, stitched up so high that her abs are on full display. That little pinch of a waist curves so perfectly right up to her wide hips that invite and invite and invite—

Remember to exhale.

So, yeah. That’s how Wonyoung ruined your day, and you barely had your morning coffee.

A text message from your boss appears. You nearly miss it because of how you’re staring all ogle-eyed at the tempting girl on your screen. Before you even click it, you already know what you ought to do. 

hey, it reads, you need to—

-

—go to Wonyoung, and for such a scandalous photo, she’s chosen a remote but classy hotel only the biggest stars know of to shoot it. 

There’s no going back when you drive like you’re running from the law when you’ll break one if you pull the wrong stunt with her. Your throat’s coiled with an unreleased breath that won’t go away unless you see her. It’s like traveling with the promise of meeting a goddess, and although you’re not religious anymore, you wear very, very close to rediscovering faith.

The hotel is grand—clear marble floors and shining chandeliers—and it’s no surprise. Wonyoung wouldn’t have things any other way. You know that when she’s come to your office to complain about her outfits and brands. 

You go up to the desk with prepared evidence for what you’re going to say. “I’m an associate of your client miss Jang Wonyoung,” you say to the lady tapping away behind her computer, “and I’ve come to visit her.”

Associate? It’s more like mentor. You’re a veteran idol whose efforts inspire the rookies, therefore getting you the responsibility of looking out for Wonyoung. So, father figure, maybe? You wince at that.

She makes a polite sad look, still not removing her eyes from the screen. “I’m sorry, miss Jang doesn’t have—”

Slide your ID card on the counter.

She glances at it, stiffens, then looks up at you. There’s only one of you in the entire South Korea, and although the 1x1 traces back to when you were a bit more youthful, it’s not hard to put two and two together. 

She apologizes quickly and offers you an elevator ride exclusive for VVIPs. Smile. It’s been a while since your last return to music, but everyone knows you here. Everyone knows your power.

Wonyoung’s place is the first room on the twelfth floor, a flinching irony.

Knock. You rap your knuckles three times for good luck and charm, because you’ll need it with her. Jang Wonyoung is everything save an easy girl. You remember the many times she refused to give up a debate on how she’s managed, how she’s styled, how she’s treated. She wants things to go her way only.

“Wonyoung,” you call out. Fidget with the handle of the door that refuses to budge. “It’s me.”

Knock a little more. There’s no eye behind the peekhole or a soft “come in.” You receive only the unlocking of the furnished knob and a welcome that makes you wish this could go the way your morals would want it to go.

The door opens you to a gorgeous suite that’s the supreme of all room tiers. This is the kind that only the richest of the rich are able to attain. Big as a house with a soft carpeted ground, there’s a queen-sized bed before a wide window of the city. Picture frames commissioned by the wealthy hang from the painted walls. All for the fucking aesthetic.

Even you, a star who paved the way for the Korean entertainment industry itself, aren’t used to this type of wealth. 

Find her sitting on the ledge of the window frame. Wonyoung has her hands resting on the sides of the window frame. She doesn’t try at least a stance at nonchalance—no admiring stare at the beautiful view, no worried gaze at her clean fingernails. Her interest is you standing before her like you’re afraid to touch her. She might be right, but it’s not like you’d ever have it in you to admit that.

Even you, a man lusted over by girls and women all over the world, aren’t used to this kind of woman—the kind that eats away at you.

“Wonyoung.” Inside, you feel like the weakest man in the world.

She has this smarmy, confident smile on her perfect lips that tells you that it’s no surprise that you’ve come all the way here for her. No surprise at all. She expected it. Anticipated it, if you will.

Don’t mistake the coquettish float of her lashes for theatrics. No, Jang Wonyoung’s just naturally someone you’d want to fuck, no matter the politics of it. “Yes?”

Her voice is also just that pretty. That’s a large part of why it’s so hard to act professional in front of her when she’s your mentee. Even more so by the fact you’re someone she’s looked up to for the majority of her trainee years, which is already something that would make people’s brows lift.

“Wonyoung.” You let your shoulders rest. “Why are you still dressed like that?”

You know all the dialogue that passes around the general public. Oh, Jang Wonyoung’s so gorgeous! Jang Wonyoung’s even more beautiful in real life! You hate to say you can’t disagree. She’s deadlier in person; her body’s there before the glass like she’s waiting for someone to give in to temptation. That coy simper can ruin careers. It can ruin yours. 

To think it all could be gone because of a nineteen-year-old celebrity with a tiny waist and legs you’d love to have around your head.

“Why are you still dressed like someone from the eighties?” Wonyoung taps her chin, then grins. She’s figured it all out. “Oh wait, you are.”

You’re not taking insults from someone who’s below you in experienced years and power. Unluckily, she’s not taking advice from someone above her or below her.

The step you take towards her, towards the little star seated comfortably waiting for you, feels like a sin. 

“You’re incredibly unprofessional for a girl who’s worked her way up here,” you note. Cross your arms and give her a reprimanding look. 

Wonyoung’s immune to nasty looks, too. She’s been doing this since she was a child. If someone gave her a glare that read all too well of a career assassination, she’d wink the bullet away sweetly. “Hm,” she says contemplatively, “I don’t think you get to say that, honestly.”

Your laugh is blunt and sarcastic. Unbelievable. Wonyoung’s the kindest girl according to the people who work for her, so why is she a rebel in your hands? It doesn’t make sense.

“Look here, we—”

You take three steps closer to her. You’ll keep your little rituals and superstitions to keep yourself grounded. Without them, you’d go insane. 

Then without her having to do anything, she comes nearer, like a doomsday foretold by a ticking clock. Who knows? That clock could be a bomb, and that bomb would set off if you dare to touch her with a trembling fingertip. You’d leave the scene injured. And eventually, you’d die the moment they try to help you, because the deed’s been done.

“Oh, I’m looking, alright,” she chirps. She’s doing what you’ve held yourself back from doing: letting her eyes wander. “And I really, really like what I see.”

You’re someone several awards her senior, and you’re still quite intimidated by her at this moment. She’s so sweet yet so honest—she won’t make up a lie to make you feel better and she won’t hide the truth to make you comfortable. Refuse the truth her eyes locked on your crotch tell. You won’t accept it. It’s not right.

“I’m serious.” Approaching her makes you want to go on your knees and beg the lord for a little saving. Do it anyway. No one will rescue you. That’s what the industry taught you. “You’ve made it all the way up here. All by yourself. There’s gotta be something. What are you throwing it all away for?”

She laughs. Funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m not. How am I throwing it all away?” 

“Those posts,” you hiss. Doesn’t she get it?

Before she could ask you what you’re talking about, you whip out your phone. Click on the app icon. It instantly shows you the opened tab containing Wonyoung’s recent Instagram posts. Look at her, wrapped in nothing, not even those curtains—giving the camera bedroom eyes when girls her age shouldn’t be shooting them at anyone or be aware of how to. 

It’s already massed a million likes in under an hour. But you know what people who turn on anyone easily will say, and what they say could blot Wonyoung’s bright future by a lot. A million people around the world have caught sight of the abs she’s worked hard for, her toned back, and just about everything. A loud minority with frisky influences can sabotage her whole reputation.

“These posts,” you continue, shoving the screen into the poor girl’s face, “can take away everything you’ve worked for. All that fame, all that money, you can’t brag about them after this.”

Wonyoung looks on innocently. She stares at the screen with uninterested eyes, then switches them back on you. She looks like such a good girl in that second, with her hands seated beside her and that face so full of sparkling perfection. 

Deception can’t lead you away. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, Wonyoung?” 

Long silence that builds up your frustration. Finally, she clicks her tongue. Gives you a shrug of her thin shoulders.

“You liked it.”

“What?”

She points to your phone. “You liked my post,” she repeats. “It says so right there.”

What the hell is she talking about?

You look at the device you’re brandishing. For a while, you can’t find out what she’s referring to. You can never take a liking to her posts, although if they switch on something you didn’t know you can feel. You’d die before—

The heart. 

Wait.

The heart button below her set of pictures is filled with red.

Your heart pumps faster, a button pushed and played.

Fuck.

You turn to her and open your mouth. No sensible words come out. You swear you didn’t tap twice on her update or take it to a private setting. How did it happen? Worse, even if you say that to her, she’d take it as a pathetic lie.

Wonyoung giggles. It’s a tinkly sound that’s adorable, but you’ve long realized that being cute is not all there is to her. She rises slowly, sets her palms over your blazer-clad arms, and gives you an empathetic face. It’s so condescending that you want to dissolve. 

“I know what men like you are all about,” she tells you. She speaks with a sultriness that makes you feel warm and has bumps appearing in masses across your skin.

She smiles. Her eyes disappear into crescent moons and the dimple appears on her cheek. You’re done for. 

“Come on,” Wonyoung continues, squeezing your forearms. “Here you are, a big old man known for being a good singer or whatever. You’re so popular that the first thing that pops up on Naver is your face. Everything goes right for you, doesn’t it?”

You have no idea where she’s going with this. You’re afraid to even ask. Your teeth grit as her massages grow stronger, harder. 

Something else is, too.

“Then, of course, you see me.” 

Her hand. It’s curling around your wrist and bringing your fingers right around that flawless waist. She closes them there tightly.

It’s so bad that it’s good. You want to keep touching her, maybe slip your gliding fingers down her jeans. Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t.

“You see me, and you get all hot and bothered. And what’s so funny is I’m not even doing anything. I’m just being myself, you know. Being young and rich… a beautiful girl…” Wonyoung is unbuttoning your shirt and you don’t realize it. “You can’t understand how I’m allowed to be this hot when you can’t even fuck me with a normal conscience.”

It’s all so wrong. You want to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to shut up. But if Medusa has her eyes, Wonyoung has her lips to turn you to stone. They keep opening elegantly to speak the filthiest, most fucked up shit, and you can’t deny anything.

Her eyes are creased with knowing pride. Her youth doesn’t rescue her from being so messed in the head already. Those thoughts don’t go along with such a pretty face.

“That’s why you like to get rough with me. You tell me to watch how I speak, watch how I act. You tell me to stop talking to you like you’re no one. You tell me that I’m such a little brat. But you only do that so you can get to control me. That’s your most fucked up dream, right?”

Her mouth is the tiniest space away from your chin. 

You’re another word away from saving yourself a spot in damnation.

Her finger that scratches a flaw on your blazer beckons you to the fire. “You’re not breaking the law or anything,” says Wonyoung, “so why not break me instead, daddy?”

That’s a deal sealed with a rough kiss.

You grab her cruelly and cover her lips with yours. They’re more amazing than you imagined, soft and competent with how she pushes in deeper, depriving herself of the air she needs the most just to get what she needs just a bit more:

You. 

Your tongues collide and clash, striving to get the most taste. She pulls your blazer off (because fuck professionalism, right?) while she kisses you with a hunger that’s equally mental and physical. It’s not like she’d bruise up if you didn’t get your hands on her yet it’s close to that. 

And, in your case, it’s not like you’re breaking any law. She’s nineteen, not anywhere under the limits you’d kill others and yourself for touching. Nonetheless, you’re much older—by age, she could be your daughter; by career, she’s your junior; by power, you’re much stronger. 

So, it’s still so wrong.

Can’t be when Wonyoung’s fist, firm around your cock, feels so right. 

Can’t be when she lands on the edge of the bed with her lips parted in delight as she watches your dick stiffen under her service. 

“There you go, daddy,” she coos, smirking. “Just get all hard for me, then you can stuff that big thing up in my pussy.”

Her thumb toys with your cockhead. You purse your lips to hold back a groan. Let go of it anyway when her smooth, closed palm rubs your sensitive flesh. She cups your balls lovingly before gliding her teasing fingertips under your length, right up to your tip. The girl knows how to do this; she’s good at more things other than MCing and performing.

Wonyoung hones this skill with firmer pumps, giving you the handjob of a lifetime. Her long fingers are just made to handle dick. Each stroke is perfection that holds and pulls and slides. You’re leaking so much already. 

So you turn into the driver of the hate train, the press that loves getting her bad angles and the articles that slash up her name:

Blame it all on her. 

Because you have here a girl, young and pretty and confident, so of course you have to scrape off your sins and nail them all on her, like a quivering hand to wood.

“You think you’re getting it that easily?” you say. Your moan is squeezed in your throat. “Baby, you’re not even close to it.”

Wonyoung smirks. It’s that self-assured, elegant smile that tells you that won’t work on her. She might be a rookie, but she knows how to play the game. 

She tightens her grip painfully. That’s what you get for trying to one her up. Do that to anyone, just not Jang Wonyoung. Your cry goes unheard as she yanks you rather than jerks you off. Spits on your head for good measure. Wonyoung’s eyes make a connection with your soul and says, Yep, that’s what I’d do if you weren’t my senior. In fact, I’d do it regardless. I’d choke and spit and leave you to die, because a pretty Samaritan is better than a good one.

“You’re really out of touch, daddy.” 

With Wonyoung slathering her drool all over you, you’re forced to teeter on the line between heaven and hell. It burns yet the offer of pleasure leaves you sated.

“You think I’m like the pretty girls out there? Other girls might have broken down and begged you to come back.” 

Your rod is subjected to a brief torrid kiss, then a smile as the wicked girl looks up at you.

She laughs, gives you this smile full of haught and womanly power. “Too bad I’m Jang Wonyoung,” she says, her last words before taking you in.

Yes, it’s too bad she’s Jang Wonyoung. It’s too bad she’s not the other girls who’d kneel for a burning touch of stars like you. She wouldn’t be holding control over you with the power of her lips if she had sanity in that pretty head.

Her plump tiers wrap around you and seize everything, encasing it in softness and wetness. Her tongue, the one she uses as a killer expression for her selfies and Instagram updates, kills you all the same with how it swirls around your skin and tastes you. Trying to pretend the girl wasn’t a pro at this like she is with everything else is useless. She’ll keep proving you wrong and overpowering you.

The whole of your shaft is sucked in, then, when her cute nose is pressed directly to your stomach, she lets out a hummed laugh. You shudder—as much as it makes you feel good, fear grips your muscles and makes them limp. She’s loving how wrong everything is, and you’re not sure if you like it.

Her jaw slacks, and then Wonyoung’s swallowing you like you’re water. Can’t be water when you’re this solid in her throat. You let out a shivering groan. You can picture the bulge in Wonyoung’s neck and it’s the last thing you’d count on turning you on, but they did tell you to expect the unexpected. 

Her saliva becomes excessive, resulting in some dribbles down her chin that help her work her mouth on you. Wonyoung’s drool sheens you entirely and she keeps adding more. On the occasion she pushes her face into your stomach, your cock gets wetter. She does, too. 

“Fuck.” Cussing won’t help deter the onslaught of pleasure. You’re unsalvageable. Say it anyway. You babble meaningless, slurred words and not one gets to Wonyoung. All she can hear is the sound of your quivering moans and her mouth taking you all in.

She becomes less of an idol, less of the elegant princess for the cameras, and instead a fleshlight. However, she reminds you that it isn’t that way with a fierce sneer that stays on at all times. She’s not your girl—she’s Jang Wonyoung, and you’re already incredibly lucky that she chose to go down on you.

All that beautiful hair isn’t of any purpose if you don’t get to touch it, to gather it in a ponytail, to pull on it. Your fingers creep into her brown locks not only to give it a little meaning but also for sanity. 

That isn’t a thing in Wonyoung’s world. She pulls your hand off and slaps it on your side. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Daddy can’t touch me, not when he’s pretending that he’s hot shit.”

Her nails bury themselves in your hips. Oh, the manicured talons of a gorgeous monster. Oh, the pain that runs through your sides. Should you run before she devours you? Too late for that.

“Wonyoung,” you breathe, and then ask, genuinely: “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She’s so proper and serene on her shows that not even her most desperate fan would think she’s a terror. They don’t know she’s a girl who likes older, weaker men who’d ruin her if she hasn’t the pretty face and attractively black heart to do them the favor instead. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

You’d respond if you knew the answer.

Wonyoung rubs her thumb under your dick, sending little sparks aflying. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?” Her lipstick decorates it as a kinder girl would to your face. “Why didn’t you grab my hair and tell me to be a good girl? Why didn’t you leave? It’s not my fault you want to fuck me.”

All these words of destruction and your cock remains standing. It’s a staunch reminder to her that you can say whatever you want and the hard evidence remains. You want to fuck Wonyoung. You want to do it to a rookie who’d turn the story around on you if it ever came out. You want to fuck her so bad it’s borderline pitiable.

“I’m just giving you what you want, daddy.” Her fingers caress your sides. “Trust me, I could be a very good girl if I wanted to.”

You almost didn’t believe that until Wonyoung started to suck you off again. 

Her lips stroke you effortlessly as if this were her pastime. That’s your most accurate guess, because this seamless performance—the one of her mouth working on you with the impression that this whole thing is nothing to her—can’t be a natural gift. The combination of dripping saliva and her soft lips is lethal.

It’s unbelievable how she manages to find all your tender spots. She preys on them, licking and licking until you’re very sure you were going to blow all over her. But you can’t give her that satisfaction. 

You’re very close to doing so though. She’s perfectly sloppy and rough. You glare at her when she lightly teases her teeth on your girth. She winks at you in response. She leaves you breathless in so many ways. 

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, god—” you whine. It’s so hard to adapt to the girl sitting there with that innocent face and wild mouth that doesn’t dare give up on you. 

Her expressions on camera are always poised. Off camera, there’s this one she flashes you as she shoves her face into your stomach that looks downright evil. Although she’s already fucking you with her throat, Wonyoung partners it with strong suction that’s sure to drain you. 

“Yes, daddy?” She doesn’t pant when she goes up for air, replacing her sucking with her long fingers. 

“I’m really close,” you admit. It’s obvious from your shaking legs. 

Sounds of returned wet suction start to increase. Criticism and compliments prod Wonyoung on. How else would she improve in her idol life? In blowing you? In devouring you?

You realize you’re fitting the cliché. There’s you, an idol whose name is uttered on the daily by both young and old fans, igniting a scandal in the making by fucking a girl beneath you in everything. There’s this expensive suite where stars go for a little precious privacy to do what they want. There’s the two of you doing exactly what you desire: fucking each other. There’s the classic maneater trope with how it’s more like Wonyoung fucking you—she fucks you with her face, fucks you in the head, fucks with your righteousness. Well, fuck.

Wonyoung drools so much that you’re invited to a sea the moment your head pushes past her tongue again. It’s slicker, sloppier, and so much sexier because she’s so completely devoted to your cock. Her hypnotizing eyes trap you and so does her body, tight and tiny—that tummy is flatter than a board and only thin panties hide what her long legs lead to from the bottom.

The only time she stops sucking you is when she darts her tongue side to side with an unhinged pace on your sensitive tip. “Good. Cum in my throat.”

“Shit, god, I can’t—”

Wonyoung attacks you again, and there, in her warm orifice, your plentiful orgasm spends itself. Her throat welcomes you tightly every time. Her hot restricted breaths fan your groin and evokes more semen that spills with no care. 

Your hands ball into fists. Although you’re hot and shaking, you can’t touch her. Why are you following her rules when it should be the other way around? It’s a reversal of roles, a Stockholm’s Syndrome of some sorts whose victim is your cock never wanting to leave from the predatory embrace of Wonyoung’s puckered kiss.

Of course, after she gathers all of your cum in the pool of her mouth, she swallows.

She really could be a good girl.

“Awh.” Wonyoung pouts mockingly. “Daddy, are you crying?”

Touch your face. To your horror, she’s right. The electricity and shock of her continuous blowjob results in a few tears on your cheeks. You haven’t done that in years. Wonyoung is the first one to make you cry like this.

You flush. What more to hide your weakness than anger? “Wonyoung,” you start, then you realize you don’t know what to say, “I—you—”

She smiles. You aren’t going anywhere.

She shoves you to the bed. You’ve reached rock bottom in spite of the softness of the quality pillows. You’ll scrape your way out if not for Wonyoung finishing the job by keeping you there assisted by her legs. They close around you with not even a courtesy false promise of an escape. No negotiation, no coaxes. 

Wonyoung is sitting on your crotch but not on your dick, which is a problem. Which is a solution. Her hands are pinned to your chest while you try not to meet her eyes. It’s a losing game when your runaway glances are met by her grinding hips, silky thighs, and the hard, flexing abs of a perfection of a midriff. 

Her fingers tug on the waistband of her panties before slowly slipping them off. Her pink pussy clear of blemish or hair comes in contact with your length. Up and down she goes, her dancing hips always seeking for more friction. You understand their need because you share the same—Wonyoung’s splayed lips on your member feel heavenly. It’s kind of disappointing that she might as well have climbed her way out of hell.

If she did, she’s the prettiest little devil you’ve ever seen.

“Ohhh, don’t you get it?” Wonyoung asks. She moves so smoothly, you nearly forget she’s humping you rather than dancing. Her soft moan brings you back. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, and you’re melting; it sounds so seductive and innocent in the same breath.

You know her. She knows you. So it’s clear: Jang Wonyoung can be anything—supermodel, actress, dancer—but she cannot ever be innocent. 

Her gorgeous voice is silky when it twists into moans and gasps. Looking down at your crotches meeting and swaying is a better show than end-of-the-year performances. The blowjob and commanding you around must have turned her on by a lot—her flesh is hot and wanton with juices as it slides up and down you.

“You’re not going anywhere, daddy!” Wonyoung giggles. She kisses your nose, then your chest until her lipstick marks you. You burn up with feverish lust after each peck. “Daddy is only Wonyoung’s. And I knew your perfect cock would be mine when I posted those pics. I know men like daddy would do anything for me.”

“Wonyoung.” Breathe again, because you’ll need to after this, so why not do it now? “Why are you doing this?”

You thought her flirtatiousness in your office was just her coyness coming out to play. She’d rest her chin on your desk, suck a red lollipop on some days, maybe run her fingertips over your knuckles. Day in and out, she plays the same game. You didn’t know it would reach this level.

“Because I want to mess you up, daddy,” Wonyoung says. Her tongue swipes at the cavern of your mouth right until she nibbles at your lower lip. Her lipstick peppers your face. “I want to fuck my daddy up so bad he’ll never go a day without thinking of me.”

Swallow. The friction of your sexes is driving you crazy and close to the edge. All the same, you don’t want to make a fool of yourself cumming early for Wonyoung. 

What happened to your dynamics? Your relationship? There wasn’t a romantic one, but it was always you holding the reins professionally and her just being an insistent passenger. Now she’s wrapping that rein around your neck and claiming you for her own. Looks like you have control everywhere excluding the bed.

“That’s it?” you ask. Shut your eyes—just seeing her grind on you with her utterly wet cunt can make you bust. “Your career doesn’t matter to you?”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Wonyoung lifts herself up and flashes that wicked smile again. “But I want to feel this in me before you wimp out.”

You and Wonyoung fall down a bottomless hole of consequence and wrongs but Wonyoung makes sure to bottom out the first time she sits on your dick. She engulfs you whole and traps you there with her soaked, grippy walls that slide all the way down. 

You’d say her pussy has a vise grip, holding onto you like all goes wrong if it didn’t, except you think it has the grip of a vice. Need for her juices that coat you replaces the need for alcohol. Even if you get out of this suite alive, (which is a low possibility), you can see yourself always coming back for more. You could be addicted to anything—smoking, eating, cheating—but it just so happened your vice is Wonyoung.

“Daddy!” she yelps, and from there you can’t count the times she slams her cute butt down your thighs. “Oh my god, daddy!”

Her dainty, cute yells make you throb inside her. Perhaps it’s the kittenish quality of it that turns you on so much. She sounds so appealing, so fucking ruinable that it’s surprising to see that she’s doing the ruining here. Her expression in bed is more animated than the ones she makes onstage—her nearly closed eyes look upwards while her mouth falls open. 

The squeeze of her tight, wet cunt renders your knees weak. It’s a good thing you’re lying down. Wonyoung makes sure you stay that way by penetrating herself with you over and over again. Her being barely a weight on you doesn’t stop you from lying there uselessly. You know better by now not to challenge her, not when each time you enter her vagina is better than the last. Her pussy is slippery and tight, proving to be the smallest and the best fit for your shaft simultaneously. Her hole is too tight and too good. 

“Is this all for me, daddy? Huh?” Wonyoung circles her hips, making you moan, then continues her up-and-down movements. “You’re so hard, you naughty daddy. I know you got a b-boner when you looked at my posts. Now I’m giving you another one.”

You always thought of Wonyoung as justifiably confident yet arrogant. She told you once at your desk that she doesn’t deserve a stylist who only has a four-star rating. She lamented about the lack of competence of her staff preparing her comeback stage. All those you turned down to give the topics of her complaints the benefit of the doubt, but you know she’s right. She doesn’t deserve less when she’s better than the best. She doesn’t deserve less when she knows her place: a royal throne. So you can’t deny that she’s too hot to handle, undiscriminating to you whose connections always have impossibly beautiful women somewhere in there.

She’s so hot that her small breasts bouncing from behind that denim bra and tube top looks appealing. She’s so hot that the heat between her legs grows wetter. She’s so hot that when her soft ass crashes down on you again, you don’t find it a repetitive bore. 

She’s so hot that you’d let the slim, tall girl use you until dusk turns to dawn, even if the curtains behind her are drawn apart and the secret cameras get to snap a photo.

“Shit, Wonyoung,” you say, your core squeezing. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“I bet you’ve thought about this, daddy. You thought that one night, I’ll be so bad that you could book us a whole hotel and fuck me in all the rooms, just like this one. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“You wanted to open my legs and use my little pussy all day long, huh? Until I’m yours to throw around and do whatever?”

“Y-yes.” Nod. Your face twists—she shouldn’t speak when she’s fucking you because all the filth she says makes you want to blow inside her already. It’s the kind of truth that arouses rather than hurts.

Wonyoung’s riding switches to a rapid intensity that makes you yell. She lets you in so deep to the point that her butt cheeks touch your heavy balls. She’ll drain them for sure; the pace she sets is terrifyingly quick. It seems that she becomes tighter after each bounce, and it’s not helping you hold out at all.

Watch the wildness in Wonyoung’s eyes become animalistic. It makes you all the more certain now of one solid fact: there is something seriously wrong with Jang Wonyoung.

She smirks. “Well, you got it wrong. I’m not all yours, daddy.” She leans down, resting her palms on your shoulders. “You are all mine.”

Her hands might as well be a chained collar waiting to close around your neck. Her devilish simper is supposed to scare you, not turn you on. Somehow, it does both. 

She flicks back her hair as she sits up again. Through it all, her riding doesn’t stop. “This cock?” she asks before slamming her pussy down it with a different kind of ferociousness. Cry out but she shuts you up with a furious kiss. “It’s gonna be my dirty secret. I’ll always go to daddy after my schedules so I can make him cum—over and over again.”

To think that a young girl like her has you at her beck and call is laughable, but there’s no laughing now. As you stare at Wonyoung’s fluid body and her hair bouncing beautifully, you realize she actually can have you for herself. It only took one Instagram post to lure you to her. She sees you’re falling deeper and deeper for her.

She didn’t exactly tell you how to escape.

“You gonna cum, daddy? Is my perfect pussy milking you?” 

You can do nothing except nod.

“Of course, I can feel you throbbing, i-it’s making me lose it,” gasps Wonyoung. Her whines are making you lose it yourself. “Let’s cum together, okay? You can only cum when you feel Wonyoung squirt all over your massive cock.”

She squeezes tighter on top of you when she reaches down to rub her clit. She’s in search of any kind of stimulation: the slap of her ass on your thighs, the upward shoves of your erection, the pulse of her clit. Her moans increase in their whiny girlishness. Their tender vulnerability makes you think she should be the one underneath your body though you’re aware that’s never going to happen. Wonyoung belongs on top, just the same with her name in first place in the list of brand reputation rankings, browser searches, followers.

Once upon a time, you took charge over her. You managed her lessons, her videos, her behind-the-scenes duties. Funny how it’s the opposite now, wherein she jounces on you freely with the domineering message of caution: don’t cum until she does.

And god, is she making that hard. Everything about her is so attractive, from the bounce of her hair to her midriff showing your entering cock to her pretty pink pussy clutching you. What gets you, however, is her face—everyone loves looking at that face. Today, you’re under an aphrodisiac for it: you’re in love with the roll of her eyes as she rides you, the pink on her cheeks, the part of her lips. 

“Fuck yes! Ugh, daddy, you feel so good inside me…” Wonyoung’s core clenches and slides your penis along its textured, sensitive walls. Her gasp is straight out of fantasies. “You’re balls deep, see? Look how your meat’s filling me. My pussy’s going to be so sore after this.” She chuckles. “Wait, who says we’re stopping?”

You shudder. You’re getting very close. Your earlier orgasm still has its effects on you. You’re afraid you’re going to do something you shouldn’t under her bedroom law. She’ll imprison you with her thighs and waterboard you with all the girl cum she promised until you confess that she’s the best fuck you ever had. 

“Daddy’s going to cum so hard he’s probably going to breed me. Then I’ll, oh, I’ll feel it inside my tummy and it’s going to be a scandal. Wouldn’t you like that? Getting to knock up Jang Wonyoung? I can hear you moaning. I think you really like that. I think that’s why you’re thrusting up in me. You want to be a real daddy and make your baby girl a mommy. That’s so fucked up, you know that, right? You shouldn’t be having sex with me, let alone breeding me. But you’re a fucking weak old man, so of course you like that.”

You’re burning up. They’re the signs of what’s to come. If her confident words inspire her young fans, her monologues of lust make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world. Of course, the boner is part of the effect. 

You groan. “Wonyoung, baby girl, please—”

“Oh god, daddy, I’m going to cum!” she squeals. Her emotions control her and tell her to go harder, bounce harder, squeeze harder. She’s pushing past her limits. “Agh, agh, you’re cumming, too, right? Cum for me. You’ll be—fuck, my daddy’s going to make me cum! I’m squirting all over his cock!”

She slams herself down roughly and repeatedly till your lower body’s flooded with her cum. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like dying because you swear you can see stars in the ceiling, stars of lust in her eyes. La petite mort. How poetic, since Wonyoung’s screaming still sounds as beautiful as her singing and speaking. 

Her shouts are close to breaking the windows’ glass. Anyone can figure out what’s happening without the destruction of the pane—the curtains are wide open, letting the world see the youngest icon of the new generation pumping herself onto her co-worker. 

You wonder if there’s actually poor watchers out there seeing you cream Wonyoung’s princess pussy, grab her ass to guide her, and kiss her when she leans down.

Wonyoung tastes the best when she’s squirting.

-

Consequences always catch up no matter what. You can hide under a cloak, in another country, underneath the earth in a secluded bunker and all that won’t help. You’ll be stuck dealing with the outcome, thorns from a rose you thought was too pretty to have some. 

That’s the first thing you remember when you wake up, wrapped in the bed sheets and by Wonyoung’s arms. Someone’s calling you. Bad news: it’s your boss—the ringtone itself sounds angry, too. 

“Hello?” you ask. You can’t help the grogginess of your morning voice, try as you may. If your boss didn’t know what happened, he can perfectly guess from the exhaustion riddling your greeting. 

“You dumb little shit.” You can feel the spittle of your boss’ insult from miles away, cities away, screens away. “You’re lucky I’m friends with the fucking CEO.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t give me that. Some janitor saw you from the wing. I needed to hear it from you: did you fuck Jang Wonyoung?”

Unexpectedly, a veiny hand you remember holding something else grabs your phone. Wonyoung leans against your shoulder wearing nothing as she holds the phone to her ear.

“Why?” she quips, loud and clear. “Wouldn’t you?”

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #izone smut #ive smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #izone wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #female idol x reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #pov smut #kofimission #commission #iz days of christmas #iz days of christmas day 12 #iz days of christmas 2023

[yunoclips]

interruptions

Nerd!Haechan x reader

happy new year ;)

nsfw included

He remembers the first time he saw you. The sun was shining way too brightly and the heat was sweltering. It was a normal day on campus for Haechan. Following his normal routine of eating , studying and then getting to class. Leaving his dorm as quietly as possible trying his best to leave his roommate, Jaehyun undisturbed. Jaehyun was someone that valued his hours of “beauty sleep”. 

He remembers the last time he accidentally disrupted Jaehyun’s sleep. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. But none the less he manages to exit successfully. Everything goes as planned. He gets to class without any interruptions. Interruptions are actually something that he rarely ever encounters considering he doesn’t have the most active social life. 

Haechan has no friends—Not counting the ones he has online waiting for him in his overwatch server. 

But he has no actual friends. The ones that you can go out with. The ones that let you crash at their place just because. The ones that keep you company when you’re lonely.

And while that might sound sad to any other person , it actually doesn’t effect him. Well at least that’s what he believes. He has good grades , a decent place to stay , food filling his belly and a computer than can handle everything else. Who needs friends when you already have the essentials. 

Besides friends can drag you down. If he had friends he wouldn’t be able to get to class on time and sit in his favorite spot like he’s doing now. 

Some people would consider him a Nerd, and he doesn’t blame them. He gets to class on time every day , always participates , never hands in an assignment late , gets perfect scores and to top it all of he wears these thick rimmed black glasses. Being called a Nerd is expected and he doesn’t mind it at all. 

As usual class goes by quickly, with no interruptions of course. Haechan steps out into the sweltering heat once again. Using his hand to shield the sun that blinds his eyes , he starts walking to his next class. Everything goes smoothly with no interruptions. Until he feels something fall out of his back pocket. He turns around quickly and bends down to grab it but when he looks up he stares at the first interruption he’s had in a while.

There you were standing in the middle of the campus looking absolutely dumb founded. The light of the sun reflecting off of your skin perfectly. Your hair was beautiful , bringing out all the profound features of your face. Your body was mesmerizing. He knows he shouldn’t be looking at you like this but he can’t help it when he finds himself staring at your tits. Eyes wandering to your thighs. Every thought that he shouldn’t be having suddenly bombards his mind. 

He tries his hardest to look away but something about you is so captivating. Maybe it’s the way you looked so confused. Holding the campus directory out , switching between looking down at it and then looking up to try and pin point your location. If he was a normal person he would’ve walked up to you and offered help. But he isn’t normal. 

So he turns around and walks to class quicker than he normally would. That day he was 10 minutes early to class. 

The next week was full of interruptions. If it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind. You just so happened to be in the same statistics class as him. 

“Great”

Even more distractions for him. Today was the day he finally decided to stop allowing you to cloud his mind. He was just gonna keep his head down and do his work like always. You didn’t even know he existed. How could he be so obsessed with someone that doesn’t even know he exists. 

His plans were actually starting to work. He managed to actually get some useful notes down on his paper without pausing mid sentence to daydream about how you would look ontop of him. But as the saying goes — all good things must come to an end. His bubble is popped instantly the moment you walk up to him. 

“Hi, my name is y/n” You had this disgustingly bright smile on your face. It wasn’t disgusting because it was a bad smile , it was disgusting because it was so precious that it should be locked away in a safe and hidden from the world. Not just exposed like this in front of so many filthy people. 

“ I know this is probably a rude way of introducing myself. But I’m actually quite new to campus.”

How pathetic he must look right now, he thinks to himself. His mouth is hung open and his eyes are drilling holes into yours. Instead of responding he just stares. Not thinking much of it , you continue 

“Your name is Haechan right? It’s nice to meet you !”  

Taking his limp hand off the desk you intertwine it with yours and shake it before softly placing it back down. 

When you touch him he feels something inside of him jump. He doesn’t know if was his heart or his cock. Or both. 

Still not receiving any response other than a mindless stare, you keep going. 

“I actually came to you for a reason.”

There it goes. What a fool he would be to think you would actually come up to him just because you wanted to be friends. Of course you needed something. 

“I was talking to our professor just a minutes ago. I had to explain to him that I was considering dropping this course. Math isn’t one of my strengths and I just can’t deal with the added stress right now. He interrupted me though and told me that there was actually someone in this class that could help me out a bit. Nd now here I am.” 

You pause taking a moment to try and read his face. Trying to pick out any kind of reaction but you weren’t receiving any. 

“You know , it’s totally fine if you say no. I know this is again , kind of rude and abrupt. If you can’t help I won’t be mad or anythi-“

“No!” He says a little too loud. So loud that a few of the students that were close to him turned their heads quickly just to check if something was wrong. 

“Shit, this is why you don’t have any friends. What kind of response was that?” Internally scolding himself. 

“I-i mean no, it’s totally fine. I would be honored to help you. I-i mean not honored but glad. Honored sounds kind of creepy. A-am I making this weird , fuck you probably think I’m crazy. I promise I’m not it’s jus-“

Cutting him off , you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a comforting look. 

“It’s okay. It’s actually kinda cute.” 

Cute. You just called him cute. Something inside of him jumped again , this time it was definitely his cock. 

“So how about this Saturday at 1 ? We can meet in the park a few blocks down. It’s supposed to be really nice out. I can bring snacks and a blanket. It’s the least I can do considering you’ll be helping me out with something so short notice.” You finish with a smile painted across your face. 

All he can do is nod. Still stuck in a trance , he forces his self to answer. “Y-yea , Saturday is good. I can do Saturday” 

“Great ! See you Saturday Haechan”  

And just like that you disappear. The rest of Haechan’s day was absolutely unproductive. 

When he got home that night, he sprawled across his bed staring at the ceiling in darkness. That same night he jerked himself off with the hand you shook.

Removing his trousers with haste. The little glob of spit wasn’t enough to prevent friction. His hand was moving fast, faster than any other time. He was working so hard that his arm caught a cramp. 

His stomach was burning , knots of pure pleasure —and humiliation— forming. Coaxing himself through orgasm after orgasm. His head started to fog , he could hear his own heartbeat ripping through his ears. Mouth hung open in a silent scream. Thighs twitching , toes curled.

Only when his cock started to burn from the friction, did he finally stop. He fell asleep with his cock still in his hand. The only thing he could see in his dreams was you.  

The rest of the days leading up to Saturday went by like a blur. When the day finally came Haechan found himself sinking in desperation. For some reason the time leading up to your 1’o clock meet up was incredibly slow. He had made sure to take a nice shower with his good body wash that he spent way too much money on. He did his skin care routine , making sure to add an extra step. He even ironed his clothes , something he never does.  

He got to the park 10 minutes early. Although he’s always an early person for no real reason , this time he needed those 10 minutes to prepare himself.

How was he gonna greet you? Was he gonna stumble over his words like an idiot or speak in confidence? How did he look , was his shirt crisp enough? Did he smell fine? 

Just as he started to question himself more you walked towards him. That beautiful smile planted on your face , carrying a few bags and blankets. He was in a trance , and just like that everything he spent 10 minutes thinking about instantly disappeared from his mind. 

You finally reached him and plopped everything down. Leaning in to give him a hug you noticed how stiff he got. Maybe you should’ve asked first , you say to yourself. But little did you know , that small gesture alone sent blood rushing straight to his cock. 

“Fucking hell, get it together.” He says to himself. 

“Hi! I’m sorry for having you wait like this. The bus was taking longer than usual” genuine sorriness lacing your voice. 

“N-no , it’s fine. I wasn’t here that long”. And just like that a loud wave of silence washes over. He’s just staring at you like you have a spider on your forehead.

“Maybe the hug was actually way to much…” You say to yourself. 

“Well… How about we take a seat. I’ll open the blanket.” Breaking the silence. You bend down to start setting up. Shortly after you start, you see the other side of the blanket being spread open. Looking up , you see Haechan bent down to help you. How nice. 

The rest of the studying session goes smoothly. You come to learn that Haechan was indeed , very smart.  You understood everything he was saying , with the exception of some hardcore things. But you weren’t worried , there was always room for another session with him. 

After two long hours goes by , you sit up and pop a few grapes in your mouth. He seems to get the message and turns on his back, leaving the textbook forgotten. 

“Let’s take a break.” You propose. 

“Okay” Lifting himself up to face you , he continues. “I like breaks , breaks are cool.” 

He was so cute , you chuckle silently to yourself. 

“How about we tell each other one thing about ourselves. It can be anything.” 

“O-okay” hesitance evident in his voice. 

“I’ll start… I have this obsession with Kiwis. I know you’re probably thinking that I’m being over dramatic but no. I genuinely cannot go a single day without having one. It could be the middle of the night and I would literally wake myself up just to grab a kiwi , then go back to bed. It’s really weird I know… Actually you’re the first person that I’ve told. I guess today is your lucky day” Finishing off with a giggle. 

He feels like a pervert when the sound of your giggling goes through his ears and runs straight down to his cock. 

Clearing his throat , trying to calm himself down. He starts to speak. 

“My name isn’t Haechan. I mean it is Haechan but my actual name isn’t. It’s Donghyuck , but only my mom calls me that.” 

Donghyuck. What a nice name. It rings in your ears like the sound of wind chimes. 

“Donghyuck.. I like it , I like it a lot actually. Would it be fine if I called you that ?” 

At that moment he became even more obsessed with you than before. If that was even possible.

“Yea. I’d like that actually.” For the first time in a while , his heart is filled with warmth. 

“Well...Donghyuck. This was really nice. I should get going though , it’s getting dark out here and I don’t wanna get caught at the bus stop. How bout we do this again next week? Same place, same time ?” 

“Yes.” Answering almost too quickly. 

“I mean , yes that’s fine with me. Same place, same time.” 

Giving him a nod with a smile accompanying it , you get up. He follows after you, helping you pack up the snacks and the blanket. After you finish you give him one final hug. Leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Thank you again , Donghyuck.” 

And before he gets the chance to react you walk off. Leaving him there in shock with a painfully erect cock in his pants. It takes him 2 minutes to finally move and pick up his backpack from the floor. When he starts walking he almost trips over something. He looks down and it was your perfume. The same perfume that you use in class everyday. The perfume that smells like flower petals with hints of sweet fruit and a pinch of spice. The same perfume that he smelt when you whispered in his ear.

He leans down to pick it up. Staring at it for a few seconds he decides to just put it in his bag. Any normal person would’ve just quickly given it to you considering the bus stop was literally down the street. But Donghyuck is not a normal person. 

That night when he gets home , he does something so perverted. Something he’d never tell a soul about. He pulls out your perfume and sprays it all over his stuffed bear that he won at a raffle. Not even taking the time to get naked , he humps the toy with sloppy, inexperienced thrusts. His glasses fog up from the warmth of the room. His face is sweaty and sticky. He had drool seeping out the corners of his mouth. Mind gone completely blank. 

He came so hard, that he blacked out. 

When he regained consciousness two things were coursing through his mind. One of those things was him praying that his roommate didn’t hear him fucking himself silly. The other thing being that he was in trouble and it was all your fault. 

For the next couple of weeks , the two of you had these study sessions. They had went well and you were actually starting to understand the class. You and Donghyuck got closer too.

Ending every session with a fun fact about yourselves turned into full conversations about anything that crossed your mind. You would talk and he would listen. Thoughts of Donghyuck started clouding your head , even when you two weren’t together. 

Maybe it was because he never judged you for any weird thing you’ve said. Or maybe it was because he would let you talk your heart out — something nobody has ever done , and he would just listen happily. It could’ve also been the way he looks completely heart broken every time you leave him , like he’s worried you will never comeback.

 He’s also pretty attractive as well, soft black hair, beautiful skin, beauty moles that were spread so perfectly across his face and those thick rimmed black glasses. 

When you walked up to his seat in class that day , he assumed that it would just be for another study session. 

“Hi , we’re still on for saturda-“ 

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Cutting him off quickly.

“Like on a date.” You continue. You wait for a response but it takes a while. Maybe he didn’t understand you ?

But Donghyuck definitely understood. He understood so well that he thinks he’s dreaming actually. When the words “go out with me” flowed out of your mouth , his ears started ringing. He forgot how to breathe for a quick second. And for some odd reason he feels tears well up in his eyes. But before you think he’s trying to deny you , he forces himself to respond. 

“Are you asking me out ?”

“Yea I am actually” 

This can’t be right. The girl of his dreams asking him out , this has to be some sick joke. 

“Are you sure you weren’t talking to the person behind me , cause that would make sen-“

“No. I’m asking you, Donghyuck Lee, out on a date with me.” 

The tears were starting to fall now. Not of sadness but instead of Joy and utter happiness.

“Y-yea. I would be honored to go out with you, Like on a date of course.” Bringing his hand up to quickly wipe his cheek before you notice how pathetic he is. 

“Great ! I was thinking Friday , 5’ o clock ? There’s this really good looking burger joint around here.” There goes that beautiful smile again , so bright and big.

“Friday sounds good. I like Friday's …” 

“Good,” Pausing to take a good look at his face, you noticed his eyes were a bit watery. How cute.  “I’ll see you friday then , Donghyuck.” And just like that you disappear once again. 

When Donghyuck gets home that night , he cries in his pillow. He cries because he finally understands what it feels like to not be lonely— something that he’s been for so long. He cries and then humps his stuffed toy once again , until the only thought running through his mind is you. 

Friday came quickly. You two had met up a small little diner in the corner of town as promised. Everything was going perfect. The evening filled with jokes and you laughing at Donghyuck as he was having a mini panic attack after spilling ketchup all over his shirt.

The conversations were flowing so smoothly , it was like you two had known each other your entire lives. 

And yet again as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. 

It was time to head back home but instead of taking the bus like you usually would you and Donghyuck decided to just walk.The entire walk was filled with you two telling each other things that nobody else knew. You felt this weird sense of comfort when you spoke to him. Almost like he was the only person who understood who you really were.

When you approached the front of your building you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. This was truly an amazing night.

“I usually don’t do this after the first date but… there’s just something about you Donghyuck.” For the first time since you met him , you felt nervous.

You were staring at the ground beneath you. You took a few seconds to recollect yourself. What was the worse that could happen? This is Donghyuck. Your sweet , understanding , shy , silly Donghyuck. 

“Donghyuck.. do you maybe wanna go out with me? As like… my boyfriend?” 

Boyfriend. The word boyfriend rang in Donghyuck’s ears. His breathing started getting shallow and his knees buckled a bit. A rush of euphoria washed over him , his mind was racing and his heart was beating out of his chest. The tears welled up in his eyes and started to roll down his pretty face like a waterfall. 

“Y-yea , I’d love that actually” Pausing to sniffle and wipe his face with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“I’d love to be your boyfriend.” 

“Are you okay hyuck ? You’re crying…” There was genuine concern in your voice. 

“N-no I’m fine. Just really really happy.”

What a dork. He was so infatuated with you that he started to cry when you asked him out. You found it endearing that he enjoyed you so much. A smile painted your face. There was an intense silence that enveloped the two of you in a box. It was as if you and Donghyuck were the only people on earth. Basking in each others glory. 

Staring into his captivating eyes you start to inch in closer to his face. Finally planting a soft kiss on his lips. He had completely stopped breathing. When you pulled away he looked absolutely stunned. Cute.

You give him a final look before turning away , walking to the entrance of your building. His eyes following you in silence.

Before you opened the door you turned around to say one last thing. 

“Goodnight , Donghyuck.” And just like that, you disappear. 

After you left him , he stood still in front of your building for 10 minutes. The world was revolving but Donghyuck was absolutely stuck. He needed time to comprehend what just happened , he had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

That night when Donghyuck got home , he cried for a bit. Then he got on Overwatch to tell his buddies that he’d be gone for a while. Finally he sprawled himself out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Occasionally bringing his hand up to rub over his lips, as if rubbing them would take him back to the moment you placed your soft lips on his. As the night got darker , his eyes got heavy. When he finally fell asleep he had a smile on his face and dreamed of you. 

Everything was perfect. 

#nct smut #sub!nct #sub!idol #sub!kpop #lee haechan smut #haechan x y/n #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #sub!haechan

[luminnara]

Unheavenly Creatures Part Two | Feyd-Rautha x reader (NSFW)

PART ONE

Summary: in the wake of an arena victory on his name day, Feyd rautha blows off some steam with his darlings.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Read this fic on AO3 under the same account name, luminnara!

Warnings: group sex/foursome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of cannibalism, canon typical violence, it’s Feyd-Rautha it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, bloodplay, biting, marking, possessiveness, the whole shebang

Word count: 4.6k

Note: I have been desperately trying to find any info I can on the harpies, and I have not managed much 🥲 so pls enjoy my headcanons and made up names ily bye

Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty @belovedbastardremus @the-dark-dreamer25

It was a day of celebration, and the entire palace—no, city—was abuzz. Inside, a feast was nearly finished, a kitchen full of cooks working day and night for a week to prepare the na-Baron’s favorite dishes. Outside, beneath a black sun, the citizens of Giedi Prime sat cheering in the arena, drinking in the sight of their beloved Feyd-Rautha as he gutted the last of the Atreides warriors. Even as you made your way back to the palace, the roar of the crowd was deafening, their penchant for bloodshed seemingly increased tenfold on this special day.

“Come,” one of the women next to you said, her voice a high, breathy hiss.

“Feyd will want us,” the other smiled, her black teeth contrasting dramatically against her near-white skin.

Feyd-Rautha’s darlings had been quick to accept you as one of them. You suspected it was partly because they didn’t dare question him, though you had seen occasional instances of what could be considered mild defiance from them in your short time on Giedi Prime. They, and you, were permitted to act out on occasion, though none of you were foolish enough to do so in a way that would cast an ill light on your beloved na-Baron. And he was your beloved—with each passing day, you grew more and more comfortable with the Harkonnen heir, and more and more certain that he adored you.

“We will feast on Atreides tonight,” Issa sighed.

“Feyd will reward us,” Yarina said, looking down at you with a grin.

You returned it.

As the three of you walked down the hall, moving as a single, predatory unit, Harkonnen and guests alike were quick to move out of the way. You heard the whispers, caught the curious, sometimes shocked stares as you passed. Feyd’s darlings were rarely seen wandering, and as such, even members of the Harkonnen nobility found themselves stunned by the sighting.

You kept pace with the others as you walked, mindful of the carefully curated air they liked to keep about them. They were both exquisite examples of Harkonnen beauty, equally as dangerous as they were lovely, and though you still did not know much about who they had been before Feyd chose them as concubines, you enjoyed their company. It was a good thing, too; now, you spent nearly every moment with them, and when you weren’t with them, it was because you were alone with Feyd-Rautha.

Some nights, he called you to his bed, having his way with you, whispering things in your ear that he would never say during the daylight hours. Things he reserved only for you. At night, Feyd-Rautha could be almost kind, and you came to suspect that he loved his darlings, in his own way; otherwise, why would you all be allowed to touch him, to pleasure him, to feast with him?

You had never expected that you might become a concubine for the heir of one of the Houses. As a child, you had often dreamt of becoming a princess and being swept away through the stars to wed your handsome prince. But you were no noble; your parents bore no titles, and the closest you were ever meant to come to greatness was when you served your former masters. Was it luck that had brought you where you were today, freely roaming the Harkonnen palace while you awaited your beloved Feyd-Rautha? Or had fate played a trick on you, giving you close to what you had always wanted while still refusing you any title or noble birth? Perhaps it was better this way; perhaps you would enjoy your life as a concubine far more than you would if you had been a lady of the court.

Perhaps the universe had known you would one day commit violent acts, and planned a fitting role for you. If you hadn’t killed your father all those years ago, would you even be on Giedi Prime now? Would Feyd-Rautha had cared at all about the handmaiden who had wandered too far? Perhaps he would have killed you, seeing you as expendable. He would have slit your throat, and his uncle the Baron would have pretended he cared enough to apologize to the Lord and Lady you had served. They would have gotten someone new, and you would have been easily and quickly disposed of.

Perhaps Feyd would have fed you to his darlings.

How strange the wheel of fate was.

“What are you thinking about?” Issa asked you, tilting her head as she looked at you curiously. Her voice was always breathy and alien, a dreamlike quality within it. It matched her appearance and yet it didn’t, making her seem even less human than her black teeth and eyes did.

“Yes, you seem so far away,” Yarina agreed, her accent more akin to the na-Baron’s than Issa’s. You had been on Giedi Prime long enough now to recognize differences in accent and dialect, and had begun trying your best to imitate Feyd’s in an attempt to better fit in. You had no idea if it was working or not, but no one had commented on it yet, which you took to be a good sign.

“My House allied with House Harkonnen,” you said as the three of you neared Feyd-Rautha’s chambers.

“Your former House,” Issa corrected, raising a hand to stroke your cheek. “You are Harkonnen now.”

“I do not look Harkonnen.”

“You do.” Yarina pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

This was normal with them, you had come to learn; they touched casually and constantly, always in contact with each other and now you by default.

“There is no doubt my former Mistress, or at least her husband, is visiting for the celebration.” You said.

“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will kill them for you,” Yarina offered.

“Perhaps our lovely Feyd-Rautha will allow us to kill them,” Issa grinned.

You did not know if you wanted that to happen.

You followed them through the door and into Feyd’s living quarters, settling on the large bed while you waited for him. You could imagine him stalking through the halls, bright red Atreides blood painting his chest and face as he hurried back to you. He would kill or maim anyone who stood in his way or tried to slow him down. He was always wild after a fight in the arena, and he always came to you hot and hard and ravenous.

You hoped today would be no exception.

“He must hurry,” Issa pouted as she lounged next to you. “I’m growing hungry.”

“He will come,” Yarina sighed. “He would never let us starve.”

You weren’t sure if they were talking about sex, or food, or both, but you always marveled at the way they spoke of Feyd. They knew how dangerous and callous he could be, but to the harpies, that was normal. If he was a lion, then they were the lionesses; just as cunning, just as regal, just as hungry. Whenever you walked alongside them, you learned more of how to be like them. You learned how to keep your head held high in a room of Harkonnen men, confident that none but Feyd-Rautha would dare to touch you lest they lose a limb or their life. You learned how to stomach the violence that the na-Baron enacted so frequently, and even how to anticipate it eagerly. You had changed in your time on Giedi Prime, and you were becoming more and more like your fellow concubines by the minute.

When you finally heard heavy, determined footfalls outside, you perked up. The door opened not a moment later, revealing a bloodied Feyd-Rautha, his chest heaving and his gaze dark as he crossed the room, eyes glued to you. There was no time to be scared before he was upon you, cupping your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, greedily, sharply biting at your lip. You gasped involuntarily and he was quick to force his tongue past your teeth, exploring your mouth while a hand moved to squeeze at your breast.

You felt a soft hand press against the back of your neck as one of the other harpies held you, her body supporting you as Feyd-Rautha pushed you down. The other moved onto her knees, undressing him quickly before leaning in to lick blood off the side of his face.

He moved to catch her lips in his and you gasped for air, heart racing as hands pulled at your dress. Craning your neck, you saw that Issa was behind you, her hands now massaging your breasts as she leaned over you.

Feyd easily threw Yarina down next to you, the bed rocking slightly. He paused, panting as he stood and looked down at his three darlings, all still clothed while he was bare. His full lips curled into a smirk, eyes raking over your bodies as he crawled over you once more.

“This must go,” he said simply, taking a fistful of your dress and pulling.

One of the others sucked in an excited breath, quickly taking the torn scraps and tossing them to the floor.

Feyd-Rautha dove for your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses against the soft flesh as his strong arms caged you in. Someone’s hand slipped between your thighs and you opened your legs obediently, feeling slender fingers stroking you as you were prepared to take the na-Baron.

It wasn’t the first time you had all been together like this. After you had settled in and grown more comfortable with the others, Feyd had permitted them to watch as he bedded you. They had both been fascinated by the small amount of body hair Feyd chose to let you keep, and you had been fascinated by the way no one, not even Feyd-Rautha, had touched you intimately without permission, or at least without being expressly told not to.

This wasn’t the first time you had felt those fingers inside you. When the three of you were alone, the others taught you how to please Feyd-Rautha. They had perfected it to a science, and it reminded you of some of the rumored Bene Gesserit teachings you had heard of; secretive, calculated, confident. Always in control, even when it seemed that they were not. You had been surprised to learn that the na-Baron was vulnerable in front of his concubines, shocked, even, by what you had seen when he took them to bed; for he was not always demanding and petulant, but also subservient. The others knew how to give him what he truly wanted and needed, and that was sometimes the permission to be a different man while behind closed doors.

Today, though, that was not what he wanted nor needed. Today was a day for chaos, for Bacchanalia. Today, Feyd-Rautha’s feral energy was driving him into a frenzy, teeth sinking into whatever he could find as he marked you with his bites over and over.

“Yes,” you gasped as fingers pushed deeper into you. “Oh, yes…”

Feyd tore himself away from your neck to devour another’s lips, his hips grinding against yours as a pair of hands wrapped themselves around his cock and began stroking. The bed was a tangle of limbs and the air was heavy with breathy moans, no one quite sure of where anyone ended and anyone else began.

When you felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, you moaned, and it came out almost choked. There, surrounded by so many bodies, you felt hot and slick all over, already sweating before the real work had even begun. Your voice was thick in your throat as you begged for him, pleading with him to please fuck you, please use you…and he obliged, because you were saying exactly the right things to make him drunk with lust.

“Feyd,” you whispered, hands searching for him.

“M’darling,” he groaned as he pressed his face into Issa’s neck, the sound guttural and primal.

“Please,” you whimpered as Yarina ran her hands over your front. Your thighs tensed in an attempt to soothe the needy ache between them, but Feyd-Rautha was in the way, like a solid tower of muscle and flesh that refused to give. “Feyd please!”

He was faring no better than you. His cock ached and wept as it slid over your lips, now wet with your own arousal and throbbing with need as blood pooled in your groin. With each teasing thrust of his hips you grew more desperate, breaths coming in whiny pants as you huffed and begged, chest heaving as your back arched up off of the bed.

As Feyd-Rautha allowed himself to be guided into you, he groaned that deep, heady groan, the one that always had you melting and turning to putty in his hands. You gasped at the feeling of his cock sinking deeper and deeper, slowly, until his skin brushed yours and you swore you could feel him in your womb.

When his hips rocked back you let out a strangled moan, and when he pushed into you once more you made a noise that would be considered filthy back on your home planet. Feyd-Rautha had a tendency to bring those noises out of you, and fill your head with thoughts that some would be disgusted by. As he fucked into you with ever-increasing brutality, though, he reminded you why you were so happy living with him now. Looking up into his dark eyes that watched you while his lips brushed over another woman’s shoulder as she held him, you felt nothing but lust and glee and adoration. Sharing him was easy when you were part of a set like this, and when you were all together as one moving, breathing creature.

His gaze was intense. You knew he loved watching you as he pleasured himself with you. Sex was like war for him, each bedding a conquest, each fuck a battle. You were never his enemy, though; you were his prey.

And you enjoyed being caught.

“Feyd,” the harpy behind you called in her hissing voice.

He tore his lips from Yarina’s flesh, leaning over you as his hips continued thrusting, meeting Issa above you. He attacked her hungrily, hands gripping her roughly as his speed movements grew more erratic. You knew he was becoming more and more frenzied by the sighs and moans, his kisses turning to bites. You watched, enraptured, as he sank his teeth into her shoulder, a bead of dark blood running down her breasts and dripping onto your cheek.

Yarina made an excited sound and dove around Feyd-Rautha, intent on licking it up. Before she could, he released Issa, shoving her aside as he snarled at Yarina, hands coming down on other side of your head as he caged you in once more.

She hissed at him, jealous and hungry, moving instead to suck at the wound the blood had oozed from. The na-Baron huffed a ragged laugh, baring his black and bloody teeth as he grinned at them, then down at you.

“You will have your turn,” he said to them while looking at you. “You will never go hungry.”

You knew he was speaking of both literal and sexual appetites, and that he meant it; there was plenty of blood and plenty of him to go around, and he was incredibly good at balancing his attentions between all three of you. Though his concubines were meant to serve him, at times it seemed as though that was achieved by him serving you—ensuring that all of you were happy, proving that you were well cared for in all ways. When his darlings were happy, Feyd-Rautha was happy. You could almost call it love.

His love was harsh, though; as he gazed down at you, you felt as if you were the only one in the universe, drawn in to those dark eyes, and you obediently turned your head and bared your throat to him. He relished the sight, and the willingness, and the vulnerability. He could kill you so easily like this, with his cock buried inside you and his teeth in your flesh. A part of him longed to spill your blood everywhere; you knew because he had said so before.

But he wouldn’t kill you.

You were his.

And he was shockingly gentle with his things, reverent when it came to their care. His knives, lovingly and proudly displayed on the wall, another hidden in the bed in case of emergency, were always sharpened. His favorites were sharpened by him, because he trusted no one else with them, much they same as how he trusted no one else with you.

As his teeth sank into you, he moaned, relishing the feeling of having you there in his jaws. He could crush you if he really tried, if not with his teeth then with his hands. But as he held you close and swept his tongue over the sore mark he had left, you knew he never would. You were safe with him, as odd as that felt.

“You are so beautiful like this,” he breathed as you gazed up at him.

“You are as well,” you replied, smiling at the admission.

He kissed you, deeply and seriously, not a hint of those teeth. It was pure, in a way, just like his care for you was; not pure in the innocent sense, nor the good sense, but pure in that it was simple and primal. It wasn’t evil. It wasn’t overtly just. It simply was.

Then, he nipped at your lower lip, sharply enough to draw blood, and he sucked at it greedily. You felt a tingle in your core, something uncoiling within you. When you brought your legs up and hooked your heels around him, he pushed into you even further, as if he wanted to force himself inside your very skin. When he dropped his head next to yours, you knew he was close—and when he bit into you again, you shrieked, and you knew you were close as well.

“Fuck,” he growled against you. “Move.”

You immediately unlatched your ankles and he pulled out, painting your front in his seed. Marking you as his once more.

He tilted his head as he looked at you. You writhed beneath him, hips bucking as you searched for him, so close to your own end and yet now feeling devoid and empty.

“Shh, pet,” he cooed, reaching between your legs. “I will care for you.”

You were nearly in tears as you watched him, far beyond the ability to speak coherently as he toyed with your swollen clit. His mouth moved to your inner thigh and he bit, drawing blood, leaving a trail of marks. The sounds that left your throat were desperate and wanton, echoing off the high ceiling of his chambers as Feyd-Rautha made quick work of you. Your pleasure was agony and beauty, and as he dragged you down over the edge, your voice felt hoarse from your cries and moans.

Anyone passing by in the corridor would hear.

You did not care.

You would never be ashamed of the sounds you made when Feyd-Rautha pleasured you, and as he bent down to swipe his tongue over you and lap at your wetness, you felt a smug sense of achievement. There was the na-Baron, on his knees, tending to his low-birth, off-planet concubine.

He pressed a kiss to the deepest bite mark. “Exquisite.”

Then, you were gently moved aside, and he began anew with one of the others. Though he was selfish, your pleasure was his, and he worked through the three of you however he pleased, always ensuring you were sated. You watched in fascination as he made them writhe, and when he allowed his own skin to be broken, you sucked at the wound, tasting the strange Harkonnen blood on your tongue and appreciating the fact that you were probably the only person from your home planet to have ever been given the chance.

How strange, the things you appreciated now.

-0-

“Something troubles you tonight,” a rough voice commented.

You turned your head to look at its owner. “Why do you say that?”

“You aren’t in bed with the others.” Feyd-Rautha approached you, coming to stand behind you.

He was right; you had initially found sleep to come easily after a long day of celebrations and feasting, your aching body in desperate need of rest. But after some time you had awoken, and it was impossible to close your eyes again. So you had dressed yourself in a black robe and slipped away, escaping to the balcony window down the corridor.

“My apologies,” you mumbled, looking down at the railing.

His chest brushed your back as his hands gripped your elbows. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”

“I know, but—“

“I was worried.”

His admission made you pause. When you glanced up at him, you saw that he was serious, jaw tense as he looked down at you.

“You were?” You asked, staring at him with wide, black eyes.

“I was.” His voice was stern. “It is not safe.”

“I’ve wandered these halls before,” you said, a hint of amusement in your tone. “Even before I joined you.”

“You were a guest.” He said. “I was your greatest threat then.”

“I wasn’t afraid of you.” You jutted your chin up towards him.

“I know,” he grinned. “When you told how best to spill your guts so as not to ruin the meat, I knew.” Then, he grew serious once more. “I also knew I must have you, and no one else would touch you.”

“No one here would dare.” You said haughtily. “They know better than to play us.”

“That is not what I worry about, my darling.” Feyd-Rautha placed his hands on the railing in front of you, leaning his chin on the top of your head as he looked out over Giedi Prime. “I am the heir to the Harkonnen throne.”

“You’re an important man,” you furrowed your brow. “What of it? Does that not guarantee me protection?”

“You are a target.”

“…na-Baron, I am a concubine, not a bride.” You scoffed. “There would be no reason for any political adversary to—“

“Feyd.” He growled.

“Wh-what?”

“Call. Me. Feyd.”

You gulped. “I-I’m sorry, Feyd.”

“Don’t…” he heaved a sigh, steadying himself. “Don’t apologize, darling.”

He was silent for a moment, and you weren’t sure whether to feel safe or uncomfortable.

“All of Giedi Prime knows how important my darlings are.” He continued. “You are safe when you are with me. But I cannot guarantee that safety when you are alone.”

Feyd-Rautha turned his head, leaning his cheek against you. It was an oddly intimate movement; in fact, the entire situation felt more akin to one that should take place with husband and wife, not murderous na-Baron and concubine.

“I am only a concubine,” you said again, voice small.

He barked a cruel laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

You winced at the harsh sound. “It is the truth.”

“My darlings,” he began, his voice low, anger simmering just below its surface, “are much more to me than simple concubines.” He turned you in his arms, forcing you to lean back against the railing. “Surely you know this…or do you turn your nose up at me?”

You recognized the glint of anger in his eyes and felt panic rising. He couldn’t really think you hated him, could he? “Feyd, no…”

He gritted his teeth as he glared down at you. “The little off-world pet, too good for the likes of the barbarian prince…I know what the Great Houses say about me.”

His hands drifted down to grab at the thin fabric of your robe, grabbing it in bunches as he hiked it up. He paused for a moment and you realized he was listening, for your quickening breaths and heartbeat, and you watched as something in his eyes shifted.

“They call me psychotic.” He nosed at one of the bite marks on your neck. “What do you think, darling? Are they correct?”

“Y-yes, Feyd.” You stammered, both frightened and excited by the game you now realized he was playing.

He made a thoughtful noise as a hand slipped past your robe, fingers finding your swollen, used folds and plunging inside. “What else?”

“Th-they say you are bloodthirsty,” your breath hitched as his thumb brushed your clitoris.

“Am I?”

“Yes, Feyd,” you gasped at the addition of another finger.

A sick smile twisted itself onto his face. “What do they say about me on your home planet, darlin?”

“That you are v-violent,” you steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest as your thighs trembled. “That you kill without second thought. That you are cruel and crave violence with every breath.”

Some of it you had made up; truly, you had never heard anyone on your planet speak in great length about the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. In fact, most people on most planets probably didn’t even know who he was. But for the sake of his ego, and for the hand between your thighs to continue its work, you exaggerated, and it worked. Despite a long day of fighting and fucking and enjoying spice, Feyd-Rautha was awake, attentive, and ravenous.

“And what does my darling think?” He asked, rubbing your clit as he twisted his fingers inside you.

“I-I think—!” You gasped, eyes wide at the sensation, wetness pooling around his hand, “Feyd—!”

“Answer me,” he purred, amused.

“I think that you are all that and more!” You blurted, tears pricking the edges of your modified eyes.

“Good pet,” he caught your lips in a kiss and focused his efforts on your clitoris, allowing and encouraging you to reach your peak on his hand.

And you did, of course you did. You always finished with Feyd, oftentimes before him. As your orgasm overtook you, he breathed you in, devouring you in his adoration.

As you came down, he leaned back, pulling his hand away and watching your flushed face as he licked the taste of you off of his fingers.

“Delicious,” he rumbled, looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.

Then, he placed his hands on your shaky hips and turned you, and before you had even caught your breath, his cock was inside you for the second time that day. He squeezed your breast as he fucked you, pressing kisses along your spine that seemed far too gentle for the na-Baron, and again, you marveled at the way he treated his darlings.

“Do you see now?” He panted in your ear. “Do you see your importance? Only my darlings do this to me.”

Only his darlings made him so feral and so tame at the same time, because while he bit and tore and raged with you, he refused to truly break his favorite things.

“And you take me so well,” he growled, spending himself inside of you with a grunt.

Feyd leaned against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. You felt comfortable there, within the safety of his body. Nothing could harm you when you were with him; you were one of his darlings, and now, you were certain that he adored you.

“Come,” he said, pulling himself out of you and straightening up.

“Bed?” You asked as he easily swept you into his arms, carrying you back to his chambers.

“A bath,” he decided. “Then bed, with the others.”

And you smiled as he held you, so secure against his chest. Feyd-Rautha was everything you had said and more—he was a lover, as well, in his own way.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dune #dune x reader #unheavenly creatures

[spiderlyla]

Waking up next to Miguel would go a little like this:

It's early, too early.

The sun is still rising, and the cold breeze of dawn is seeping through the cracks in your balcony. Birds are chirping outside, singing a soft lullaby, alerting the neighbourhood about the rising sun, and beckoning people to wake.

And awake, you were.

It took you a little bit to get over the initial confusion that occurs when you first open your eyes. The room was dimmed enough for you to see everything but was not bright enough to hurt your eyes. The sheets felt extremely warm, the mattress was extremely soft, and the pillows were fluffy enough.

Something is weighing down on your stomach, though it was not pressuring. Your eyes flutter slowly, and you look down to see tufts of messy, black hair blocking your vision.

A smile creeps onto your face, and your hand involuntarily moves to touch his hair. A deep hum erupts out of him, and when he moves, you find those reddish-brown eyes boring into yours.

You don't know how long he's been awake, but it couldn't be long. He looked rather groggy, yet you swear you could stare at him for hours.

He looked rather rugged now. The toll work took on him this month was very obvious, you could tell by his unshaved stubble, by his uneven hair, his tired eyes.You could feel your cheeks heating up, you could never get used to this sight.

"Buenos días..." His voice reverberated in your ears, so low and deep it made you feel all sorts of ways. He moved before you could answer and hoisted himself up using his arms, pinning you to the bed underneath him.

He was not wearing a shirt. The scars on his body were a little visible under his slightly hairy chest. He gained a few more of those since you last saw him, and if it weren't for the fact that you were currently mesmerised by the fact that he was so much bigger than you, you would've voiced your concern or even scolded him for not taking better care of himself.

Good thing for him, you were distracted.

"Sleep well?" He asked, pressing his soft lips to your temple. It was a habit of his now. Even on his busiest of days, he would still give you your very much needed morning kiss.

You didn't reply, only gave him a little hum and wrapped your arms around his neck. Miguel chuckled, lowering himself gently so he could rest on your chest while looking up at you. His hands were on your waist, thumbs mindlessly swiping over the same spot over and over.

And it feels so right this way. His weight on you, the soft sheets smelling of sleep mixed with his cologne, the birds chirping and tapping on your window.

"Don't go to work," He glances up at you, his expression softer than you've ever seen it. "...please." His voice does not surprise you, but his request does. Miguel was never a man with little pride, nor was he someone who liked to ask for anything, so his little plea was very surprising, to say the least.

"It's not until a few hours—" You try to explain, but he scoffs immediately, displeased.

"It's not that, I'm telling you not to go at all today." His grip on your waist tightens just in the slightest, but his gaze is still soft. "I want you to stay." You pause to think for a moment, but you had already decided as soon as you heard him utter those words.

After all, you'd be a fool if you left the bed, leaving such a striking man to be by himself.

"Okay." He finally smiles, his pearly fangs protruding and pressing on his lower lip. He adjusted himself, and you suddenly found him beside you instead of laying on you, arm spread to welcome you into his embrace, and you take the opportunity you were given.

Being against him is comforting. It makes you feel safe and warm, like nothing could ever hurt you. And you knew full well nothing would, he wouldn't allow it.

You find yourself being lulled back to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the smell of his musky cologne. His hand ran up and down along your spine before stopping at your waist and pulling you even closer.

Your eyes involuntarily close, and just before you could slip into sleep again, you feel those lips on your forehead.

"Dulces sueños, Amor." [Sweet dreams, love.]

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #lumi talks ♟ #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv #miguel o #miguel fanfic #miguel o' hara #miguel atsv #bimbo reader × miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o hara fluff #fluff

[itsbecomeblue]

glue 001 ellie williams imagine

don't dare forget about palestine

sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au

cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.

it was a nice day, the sun gently hitting your face after a week of chilly wind and winter complaints from everyone. you were leaving your last morning class. you walked happily towards the college cafeteria, a thing that no one was ever happy to do. you feel hot on your back, your black jacket heating from the sun but you refuse to take it off and feel the chilly wind.

everything was going as smoothly as it could today. you had worries but the sun was nice and warm on your skin… as you walked you saw her. you saw ellie williams, and like this day, she was golden. a golden soccer player, the best player in your opinion, that's for sure. she walked over to you, that wasn't unusual.

“hey, sup?” she nudged your shoulder to catch your attention, unaware she already had all of it.

she had big green piercing eyes below her eyebrow slit and. you stared for a bit, that wasn't unusual either. she had a mid-sleeve blue shirt that left her tattoo slightly covered. she just waited for you to talk, as she always did, looking down and fidgeting with her fingers. you walked side by side.

“cafeteria?” you point towards the way to the cafeteria, the one you and ellie had been taking for a month now . she hums in agreement.

you met ellie in this same situation, her in front of you, the last ones in the line at the cafeteria. a guy, jesse, walked over to her, jumping the line. she called him out with a few chuckles and he apologized, telling you he just wanted to talk to her. she asked you to sit with her that day.

now, you're in the same line. her in front of you and no jesse to jump the line, but you're gonna sit with her again. the food was not appealing, but the company was great. that was something you and ellie agreed on but kept unspoken.

she's waiting for you to finish putting your food on the tray, so you can walk to the table. ellie looks at you over her shoulder and as soon as you're next to her she's sticking her hand out to your arm, you flinch slightly. ellie was more touchy than you.

“you're quiet.” she fixes your school bag's strap on your shoulder, her tattoo peeking out of her navy sleeve. her cold fingers touch a little of your collar.

“yeah?” you shrugged. “so are you anyway.” she took a breath and shrugged too, sitting down at the right corner table. that wasn't unusual at all.

“do you have any projects coming up?” ellie says as she sits down, she brushes a strand of her hair out of her face. you nod and she hums. “knew it. ya need any help?”

ellie was always the friend to help out in any way, she felt good doing it and she wanted her friends to succeed so if she could help, she would in a heartbeat.

“you wanna help me?” your pupils dilated and ellie noticed.

“no…i mean, yeah i do. you know i do.” she shook her head no, then nodded yes. she's a rambling mess and you just stare and it's making her stumble over her words. “come over after my practice.”

“‘kay.” you try to hold back a smile and you look at your food, the sun is warm and so are you. you thanked god she asked you to come over for a study sesh. you'd take any opportunity to see her and she'd always ask.

ellie was somewhat popular for playing on the soccer team. you had a separate friend group but sometimes people meet randomly and they just click. like you and ellie. you had met jesse when you met ellie, and you eventually met dina and ellie met your roommate but you never really hung out with other people.

you had been friends for a while, lunches in the cafeteria, study sessions, and dorm visits were what your friendship was about and you took every opportunity to see each other. you were getting ready to leave when niyah, your roommate and closest friend spoke out.

“you going to ellie's?” you smile in that certain way and niyah doesn't need an answer anymore.

“she's gonna help me with my project.” you sit down to put on your shoes, checking the time on your phone.

“again? you say she's a nerd and i'm starting to believe you.” and you're nodding.

“she is.” you chuckle. “so smart and a fucking geek!”

“alright, have fun studying i guess…”

“stop, i will. it's fun with her.” niyah mocks you, you throw a hat from the wall hooks at her and leave the room.

you walk a little bit until you get to ellie's dorm. the door is unlocked, as usual when you're coming over and you want to scare her.

“aaaaa…ha!” you yell as you go in, only to find out she isn't inside. you feel stupid and you giggle to yourself.

you sit on her neatly done bed, next to her dinosaur plushie and you text her ‘where are you’ ‘i was finna jumpscare you and no one was here… mad embarrassing’. you sighted, she was never late to see you.

ping! ellie replied ‘omw coach had us doing an extra today” you smile and ping! “i even left without a shower so i wouldn't be so late 💔” you replied “ig it didn't work”. you're waiting for a reply but soon enough you see a sweaty ellie coming into the room, soccer jersey still on.

“oh my god, intruder!” she faked a scare and you furrowed your eyebrows as in ‘you're not funny’. “what? you said you were gonna scare me so…”

“whatever.” you stay on your phone replying to some of your friends’ texts and she pulls it away, wearing a childish smile on her dumb face. some hair stuck sweaty on her forehead and her cheeks were flushed.

“you came here to work, not play on your phone!” she laughs and you cross your arms over you chest. you don't even bother reaching out for your phone.

“you still have to take a shower so…”

“do i?” she shrugs and you look disturbed, furrowing your eyebrows.

“ewwwwww, yes you do smelly ellie.” you laugh and she furrowed her eyebrows in that same ‘you're not funny’ way. the truth is, you find each other hilarious.

“fine, wait here.” she says before grabbing some clothes from her drawers and her towel. “gonna shower real quick, and… and we can start.” you hum and nod.

she goes to the bathroom and you stay on your phone texting niyah and some other friends while she's not back. you get anxious at the image of her in her sweaty jersey for some reason and if you took your eyes off your phone you'd stare. but now it isn't any better, she's coming in with fresh clothes, smelling as good as ever and with water drops on her hair.

“hey… you didn't take out your stuff yet?” she coughs, sitting on the bed too. you shake your head and she hums negatively as to scold you.

you don't take them out and she stays quiet while you stay completely still. when you decide to reach for your bag that you had previously thrown next to the bed, you knee nudges hers. she retracts instantly, making you lift your head to face her. book and laptop in hand.

you stare, as you feared you would before. she knows she's gonna stutter so she decides to stay silent. she blinks softly, eyes still piercing yours.

“it's a questionnaire about a documentary. so maybe this wasn't a good idea.” you hold your book and laptop closer to your lap.

“w-why is it not?” she stuttered and she wanted to leave, but it's her dorm room.

“because… you'd have to have watched it to help me reply so it's dumb.”

“we can watch it, and then we reply.” she reaches for the laptop you had in your lap.

“uhh… it's 3 hours long.” you chuckle and she scoffs in disbelief. “yeah…”

“why did you want help then?” she moves further onto the bed, turning her body to face you, holding your shoulder so you do the same, you comply.

“dunno. i just… i didn't think of what project it was, to be honest. i just wanted… this i think.” you look around, emphasizing the ‘this’ as you do.

“to come over?” you shrug before nodding. “could've just said that. ya know? not your tutor, i'm your friend.”

“i know… but i dunno, i like hearing you talk and you talk and talk when you're helping me and…” you stop yourself and she's beet-red.

“you ask for my help because you… you wanna hear me talk? sorry wait…?” she's convinced she misheard you or just misunderstood what you said. you're scared she might think you're weird or something.

“i guess so, but you're also really smart.” you try to hold back a smile again, and you look down. ellie wants to see you but she doesn't want you to see her blushed cheeks.

“makes sense, sorry if it seemed like that was the only way we could hang. ‘cause that's not true…. we can just hang out y'know?” you listen to her rambling, keeping your head down. she's done talking and you're silent. “can… can you look at me for a sec?”

and you do. what are those? are those your eyes? where's your iris? big ass dilated pupils. ellie chuckles.

“what?” you lean to put your laptop and book back in your bag and as soon as you do ellie holds your chin.

“you like it when i talk?” you blink a few times. “hm?” she insists and you nod. she stays quiet so you feel like you have to say it.

“i do. why?” you breathe so heavily that she feels your body alive against her fingers that she holds against your chin. her stomach twisted, she lost her words.

both were silent, her hand on your chin dropped and you were going to look away but she spoke again.

“‘cause… i like it when you look at me.” she's now fidgeting with her fingers against her lap again, eyes trying to not leave yours, she wouldn't wanna miss any expression of yours.

“sorry.” you try not to look away too. “i know i should look-”

“yeah, keep them on me.” she interrupts with a chuckle and your heart skips a beat. hers is fast. you chuckle back. “wh-what do you wanna do then?”

“just hang, like you said?” you finally move your body again, moving one of your legs onto the bed. she nods, and she notices you kept eye contact.

“yes.” she vocalized. “course.” a strand of wet hair is stuck on her forehead and you itch to move it around.

“why did the coach have you guys doing extra today?” you remember to ask.

“it was just me and dina, we were late.” she laughs and another strand of hair falls forward as she lowers her head. your hand trails off but you hesitate. “what?” she noticed you didn't laugh and your hand's movement.

“you have hair here.” she laughs and you sigh. “here…” you brush the strands away from her forehead, she's choked up.

your eyes go down to hers and as soon as they pierce yours you're choked up too. she breathed out a “thanks.” and she accidentally touched your nose with hers because of the proximity.

“that was a kunik.” you smile and she pulls away softly.

“what do you mean?” she curled her lips up in a sweet smile.

“your nose on mine.”

“nose kiss is cute.” she adds.

“mhm, i think so too.” you agree, palming your jeans. your hands were clammy and you wanted to take off your jacket and ellie seemed to read your mind.

“you're hot?” you furrow your eyebrows at first until you nod and take off your jacket. “glad you know.” now she's holding back a smile when you do too.

“uhm… today's warm.”

“are you really talking about the weather right now?” she laughs at your conversation attempt and you slap her arm.

“it's not like that… it's actually nice and warm today.” you giggle. “i was thinking about it.”

“right… right… it's true, it is warm.” she surrenders to your true statement. “it's nicer to practice like this, makes you feel more energetic.”

“plus made you sweat so hard.” you laugh, remembering the state she was in.

“naaah, it's always like that, but coming back here speeding wasn't as refreshing as the walks when it's colder” she emphasizes speeding and glares harder at you with a grin.

“hey! i didn't ask you to speed here!” you smile, she mirrors that. your smiles fade away with the silence that settles again. you were about to speak again when ellie beat you to it.

“i don't like being late.” she moves around to lie down next to your sat figure.

“you were just laughing about being late.” you start laughing, looking at her almost over your shoulder.

“about being late for practice, not about being late to see you.” she chuckles and you grin. she rolls her eyes, knowing what to expect from you.

“oooh because i'm just sooo more important.” you turn to her, leaning on the bed with your hands, closer to her face now.

“yeah right… you're just scarier than the coach.” she laughs but she stops drastically, serious expression. “it's your face. scary as shit i swear to god.”

“ooooh really?” you chant coming even closer.

“yeah keep that face away…” she acts frightened, one hand on top of her head and the other between your faces to keep you away. you lean even closer and you're both giggling “help!” even closer, giggles and chuckles alive.

“you're done for!” you come closer, face hitting her hand, that just holds your cheek.

you're still laughing and she's grabbing your face with both hands, pretending to scream in fear as you laugh into her face. you're almost on top of her and as soon as you touch, her eyes soften and you stiffen. the laughter is gone and long forgotten.

“nose kiss again?” she blurted out incoherently and you shifted, her hand slid to your neck, you felt hot again but now you didn't have a jacket to strip out of.

“what?” you crawl closer to settle where you were. your heart raced just like ellie's, even if you didn't know hers did. “ellie…” you start, not moving an inch away or closer, her head already lifted off the bed. her hand on your neck pulls you closer until your noses touch again.

“there, nose kissed.” she smiles. you let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding. she moves her nose against yours. breathing against each other's faces.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #college!ellie williams #college!au #ellie fluff #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams blurb #ellie drabble #ellie x masc reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #jesse tlou #tlou jesse #ellie williams x female reader #lover girl!ellie #ellie imagine #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #⭐️ #glue 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🩹

[aventvrines]

if i had to choose her or the sun! megumi x reader

repost from old acc! reblogs are appreciated<3

megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

cws; none really, femcoded(?) reader, swearing, reader drinks coffee, megumi whipped for reader, first kiss, small [physical] fight between megumi and yuji for funnies

wc: 1154

writing below the cut

TO SAY THAT megumi fushiguro hates mondays would be an understatement. he doesn't hate them, he fucking despises them. there's nothing he can think of that's even close to likeable about them. the mornings? the worst part of his entire week. the nights? he's so tired he can't even think. and all the time in between? literal ass.

today's even worse. he normally hates waking up to go to class, but even that sounds better than waking up at 5 am to go to yuuji’s stupid sports practice. the fact that yuuji manages the patience or energy for this is astounding. 

it's the worst day in his entire life, he thinks. but then he sees you, and suddenly it doesn't feel so bad anymore. you're dressed in layers and layers of fluff and wool, trudging through the soft layer of unshoveled snow on the ground, making a beeline straight for him.

there's a cute little grin on your face as you bounce towards him. your cheeks and nose are flushed,  and your pretty, sparkly eyes are trained on one single thing: the steaming cup of coffee that he's cradling in his freezing hands.

“hey!” you yell, using your hands to form a makeshift microphone before you reach him. you plop down beside him, onto the bench. 

“what flavour?” you demand, not noticing the way he stiffens, or the way his cheeks turn a even brighter shade of pink, a shade that no amount of cold can ever produce. he shifts uncomfortably as you lean into him suddenly, with no regard to his prsonal space. you take a deep breath, then close your eyes.

“caramel?”

“mm.” he offers it to you quietly, and you happily cuddle into his side as you take a big sip. you always tell him how surprising it is that the two of you, despite having opposite personalities, have the same taste in coffee. the short answer is, you don't.  the long answer, however, complicates things wildly. he's never been a fan of sweet things, but you absolutely adore them. and when you'd told him how much you “love, love, love!” (your words, not his) sweet things. and of course, the one day he'd tried out caramel coffee, you'd tasted it too, and decided that you loved it.

“homemade?” 

“yeah,” he murmurs. somewhere along the line, he's started making it at home. just for you. he enjoys seeing your little reactions every day when he hands it to you, and it goes without saying that being unable to savour his own coffee in peace is so worth watching you savour yours. he's used to it now anyways, choking down his own black coffee in seconds before setting out with “his” coffee, that's actually always been yours.

you tug at the thick muffler that's hanging half off your neck with one hand. 

“wait– lemme–” you pull again, and the coffee almost spills out of the cup. he takes it from your hand gently.

“there, do it now.” 

you rip off the muffler gratefully and reach for the cup. but before you can take your coffee back, yuuji jogs over and snatches it up, pouring some into his mouth. megumi grabs it back from him, annoyed. 

“stop touching my stuff!”

“why are you always mean to everyone?” groans yuuji, collapsing onto the bench.

“wh’d’ya mean?” you ask, voice muffled by your megumi’s coffee cup. you put it down beside you. “i don't get it, he's never been mean to me!”

“nyeh!” yuuji sticks out his tongue at you. “that's cause he likes yo–”

your eyes widen. you've never seen megumi move this fast before; he lunges at yuuji, hissing “why'd you say that in front of–”

“i’m sorry, it just slipped out!” he gasps, trying to wriggle away–but even though he's stronger than megumi, the angle at which he's being held down is enough to hold him in place. and that's when it finally clicks.

“megumi… you like me?” your eyes are filled with wonder and surprise as you stare down at the pair, unmoving on the ground against a striking backdrop of snow.

yuuji shakes his head vehemently. “no, i was joking, i swear!”

“that's not true!” yells megumi at the same time. but then he sees how you seem to deflate, and your bright eyes dull. fuck it. he twists around to look at you properly. “i mean, it is true, but–”

he sees the way a small smile plays up on your lips. it's the prettiest sight he's ever seen–and distracting enough for yuuji to shove him away and take off running. beinf an s-class track star, he doesn't have to run for long before he's out of view. now it's only you and megumi left.

he's sitting on the floor of the pavilion, in front of the bench, scared to talk to you. you, on the other hand, have never been so bold. you walk over to him, and kneel between his spread out legs. you touch his face.

“hey, megumi.”

“yeah?” his voice is nervous, shaky.

“can i kiss you?”

he nods.

taking a deep breath, you lean forward, pressing your lips tentatively to his. megumi freezes, before pulling you closer to him, hand on your waist. holy shit, your lips are soft. but what if someone sees them? it would be so embarrassing. he pulls away briefly to catch his breath, but you look disappointed, like you wanted more. and then he's effortlessly pulling you up onto his lap, embarrassment be damned. your hands are tangled up in his hair, and he kisses you again, fervently. 

“we should,” he gasps, out of breath. “we should really go somewhere more private.”

“oh,” you say, surprised. “we're still in the pavilion.”

he nods, lifting you off of him, then gets up. he pulls you up too, but then his eyes widen as soon as he sees your lips. picking up your muffler, he wraps it securely around your neck and the lower half of your face, so they're no longer visible. 

“what's wrong?” you ask, confused.

he shakes his head, cheeks dusted a pretty pink.

“your uh,” he clears his throat. “your lips are swollen, it'll look weird.”

your laughter is infectious, and he's also laughing by the time you get to gojo’s car. when the two of you get in, his chauffeur–because when is gojo not going all out over little things–starts the car, and you immediately cuddle into megumi's side.

“so.” 

you ignore him, eyes closed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

LATER

“wait, so you actually like me?” you ask, peering down at the heart-shaped box of chocolate in your hands. there's a note stuck to it that says, happy valentine's day. you look up at megumi, who's holding a bouquet of flowers and the three stuffed animals you've won from the claw machine at the arcade.

“baby,” he groans. “we've been over this already, we've been together for two damn years!”

#jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megu #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi fluff #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk oneshot #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu megumi #megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #✩ writing !

[jnkgrnde]

— can you stand the rain?, clarisse la rue, pjo

FREE PALESTINE: LINKS TO HELP

summary — in which, you and clarisse get into an argument that causes you to kiss in the rain.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of poseidon)

content includes — arguing, kissing in the rain, best friends to lovers, jealous!clarisse

authors note — TELL ME BABY CAN YEWWWW STAND THE RAINNNNNN 🗣️🎤 this is def butt but this has been in my drafts for way too long so!

it was a beautiful, sunny day in long island. the smell of strawberries from the fields established themselves as today’s scent for the camp, the lake was cool enough for a dip.

it was a perfect day.

and it was a perfect day for you and clarisse to hang out with each other. you wanted to convince her to take a day off from training and take a swim in the lake to cool off for the day, before eventually doing something stupid later.

you knew clarisse was up because she was always up before you, so you decided to knock on the ares cabin door first to find her. her younger brother told you she wasn’t there and that you could find her at the sparring field. you thanked him with a smile before leaving to find her. lo and behold, there was clarisse la rue in her armor with her electric spear, training with a dummy.

you didn’t know how long she’d been out here, but the training dummy looked about out of comission. “d’you wake up on the wrong side of bed or did you add him to your hate list?” she halted her movements, dust flying beneath her shoes.

“did you need something, sweet thing?” and there she went with the nicknames. she knew you loved them, and she also knew you’d get tripped up by them. “so i was thinking we’d take a dip in the lake today.” and you knew what she was gonna say,

“y/n, you know i have to train today—“ “but that’s what you do everyday, clar! please? just for today?” you begged. you gave her your infamous puppy eyes, ones you knew she couldn’t turn away from. she groaned dramatically. “… you got me. i’ll meet you by the canoes in ten.” you grinned with excitement. “thank you thank you!” you kissed her cheek before running off.

she stood frozen for a second before a smile started spreading across her face. her cheek felt tingly in the spot you kissed her in.

you wore a white overshirt with a blue swimsuit underneath, paired with jean shorts. you carried a bag, sunglasses in your hair. you walked over to the lake, a smile on your face knowing you could be in one of the places you loved most.

you saw clarisse standing near the canoes watching the water. she had a towel laid out and was just taking her shoes off when you covered her eyes. “boo.” clarisse feigned annoyance, but still let a smile grace her lips.

you set down your bag on the sand, taking your shirt and shorts off. “not gonna join me, clar?” “nah. gotta keep watch, y’know, for butterflies and stuff.” you rolled your eyes with a smile before walking into the water, eventually going deep enough to wear you can float. you swam out enough for the sun to beam down on you, and just let yourself feel the water.

clarisse watched you. she loved watching you anytime, but she especially loved when you were in your environment. she took note of the smile on your face and how you occasionally paddled your hands to make sure you kept yourself afloat, although with your powers and everything, it wasn’t hard.

clarisse admired her surroundings before her eyes caught a boy staring at you — carter from hephaestus cabin. he was deeply tanned with a good build and curly hair, and had scars all over his hands and face from working on weapons for the camp.

carter watched with a small smile. he held a gold necklace in his hands, twisting them around. it had a sea turtle pendant, and it shined in the sunlight.

clarisse furrowed her eyebrows. she didn’t like what she was feeling — you were just friends, right? it’s just her being protective over you. she didn’t want you to get hurt or anything. she was sure that’s what it was.

it was a while before you decided to get out of the water. you didn’t realize how long you’d been there before noticing that it was starting to get a little cooler. you swam, then walked back to shore, but not before being stopped by carter.

to you, carter was a sweet, caring boy, just not for you specifically, because you had your sights set on someone else. he was starting to show he liked you, and got bolder as time went on. “hey, y/n. i made you something.” he told you nervously but still with a smile. he held out the necklace to you, the sea turtle shining in the light.

you let out a genuine smile before thanking him, not noticing the burning daggers being glared into the back of his head. he offered to put it on for you, so you turned and he slowly locked the chain together.

“thank you, carter.” you smiled before walking over to clarisse. you found her not so happy, actually stuffing things into your bags. “hey, clar, what’s wrong?” you reached out to touch her arm, and she pulled away like you were a hot pan burning her.

you furrowed your eyebrows in hurt and confusion. her face was scrunched up and she looked at you like you disgusted her. she shoved your bag to your chest before storming off back to the main campgrounds.

“clarisse!” you slung your bag on your shoulder and ran to try and catch to her, but she was already gone. your heart squeezed in your chest and you frowned before continuing to walk to your cabin.

a million thoughts swirled around in your head — why was she acting like this? you were just friends, right? you knew she was protective of you, yes, but not to this extent. you opened the doors to the poseidon cabin, where it was empty. you assumed percy was probably out with annabeth on a date, probably.

clarisse didn’t know why she felt this way; she hated it. she hated the way she acted when you touched her, or how she felt giddy and mushy inside whenever you look at her with your pretty eyes. she hated feeling the way she did around you, because she usually feels guilt, anger, or needing to please her father. that’s how she thinks she’s supposed to feel, how she’s wired to feel.

you make her actually feel like a good person, and she knew she impacted you with the way she acted that day.

it was later at night at the dining pavilion. torches were lit, dryads were flying around with silver platters with food, and campers from different cabins were chatting and laughing with eachother. the energy was high, seeing as there was a planned campfire tonight, with the apollo cabin leading the sing along.

you and percy sat at the poseidon table. his plate was full, and he had blue soda on the side. you gave him a small smile. “have you not eaten since breakfast?” you asked. “nah. annabeth wanted to go on a hike and i forgot to eat after.” you flicked his forehead. “why didn’t you tell me? i have a secret stash in the cabin!” you whisper-yelled. “i’m sorry!” he whined. you both laughed as the conversation flowed.

clarisse stole many glances from the poseidon table, specifically from you. despite what happened earlier in the day, you still smiled. her chest squeezed at the sound of your laughter. she poked her tongue against her lips before looking down at her plate.

it was after dinner where you and clarisse actually saw each other. she was sitting with the ares cabin, and you were sitting with percy and a couple other mutual friends. every time you looked up from the fire, there was clarisse who was staring at you no matter what. you quickly looked away every time you made eye contact.

the empty seat next to you was soon filled, but not by who you actually wanted it to be. carter sat next to, playing with his hoodie strings and smiling at you. “d’you need something, carter?” you asked. you didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you weren’t as enthusiastic as you were earlier.

“well, i wanted to know if you were free later this week? i-i had something planned and-“ “no, she’s not free.” and standing in front of you was the woman of the hour.

you snapped your eyes up at the familiar voice. she held a glare directed at carter. before anybody could say anything, chiron announced that the campfire had to end early, seeing there was a storm starting to move in. “so, um, are you coming?” carter persisted. “i’ll get back to you on that, carter.” you gave a small smile before getting up. you shot clarisse a look before walking back with percy to the poseidon cabin.

the night was dark, and thunder started rolling in. the camp turned in for the night, all except for one. there was a tapping on your window, waking you up from your sleep. you groaned, already starting to yell at whoever it was before you recognized clarisse.

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what are you doing here?” she held her hand out without a word. you hesitated, looking back at percy to see him fast asleep. you looked back at clarisse, and she looked desperate. you slipped on your shoes before taking her hand and letting her guide you out the window.

she walked with you, out to the woods and seemingly to your secret spot, the spot that was reserved for you and clarisse only. “clarisse, why are we out here?” you asked her once you finally stopped.

your emotions were already starting to heighten, the rain slowly following. she stared at you for a second. “i’m sorry.” she apologized. “why? you left me with no explanation like i was some animal on the street and ignored me. why?”

she breathed out a heavy breath. “him.” she whispered. “what?” “because of carter!” she snapped. you were confused, “what does this have to do with him?” clarisse looked at you like she begged you to understand, like you were supposed to know why.

“because he likes you,” she put out simply, “and i don’t want him to.” you blinked while taking in her words. she was closer to you than before now, her breath on your face. she soaked you in, watching the rainwater run down your face. she came to the realization.

“i like you,” she barely spoke. “i like you, and i don’t want him to like you.” you stood in shock. clarisse liked you. she liked you back, and you had no clue. you cupped her jaw and pulled her down to your lips. it was passionate, like she would die without feeling you again. you pulled away, “so, you stormed off because you liked me?” clarisse rolled her eyes with a smile. “well, when you put it like that.”

you pulled her back with a laugh and the rain getting lighter throughout the kiss, eventually allowing the stars to shine.

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

[palioom]

going for a ride

summary: you've been eyeing your dad's hot best friend joel for a while, but you never had the courage to go and approach him by yourself. one day while watching him work on his harley in his garage, you finally decide to make a move.

pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader word count: 3.5k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); biker!joel with some tattoos; reader is in her early 20s; age gap; unprotected p in v; inappropriate use of a harley; cum shots; some dirty talk

• masterlist •

She was watching him.

Again.

He could feel her eyes stare into his back as he worked on his bike in his garage, door wide open in the hopes of letting a rare breeze in.

It was way too fucking hot today, and while Sarah was out with some friends, he used the time to get his bike ready, fixing some minor things and just checking if she was good to go still.

Because the weather was also good for taking his Harley for a ride again.

And her? His best friend’s daughter? Sitting in a chair on the lawn in front of her house, a big oak tree shielding her from the harsh sun.

Pretending to read a book, mostly just sparing long glances at him.

Trying to look innocent and occupied when he looked over to her.

Thinking she was slick.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop looking.

Joel Miller, her dad’s best friend, covered in tattoos, all over his arms, his chest, up to his neck. Dark, salt and pepper hair slicked back, some sticking to his sweaty forehead.

He was hot. Working on his stupid bike like almost every day when he had the time to.

She liked to see his muscles flex as he tightened some screws or polished the sleek, black metal.

How his biceps bulged when he moved some heavy part away, or a crate or something else that showed just how strong he was.

His veiny hands when he was over at their place or they at his, watching football or having a cookout. How thick his fingers were, wrapped around a beer bottle which seemed damn small compared to his large hands.

More than just once had she imagined what his thick fingers would feel like stretching her out, late at night when the heat made it impossible to sleep. When her own hand vanished into her panties because her thoughts kept revolving around him, moaning his name quietly while her hips bucked up.

She felt herself growing wet just watching him right now.

Not once had she gone over to him when she was alone. Too nervous, her dad always going with her.

But with him gone today, on some stupid trip with one of his other friends, she just really wanted to go over, watch him work up close.

Squirming in her seat, she snapped her book closed and stood up, setting it on the chair and just looking over to Joel.

Heart beating in her chest as she tugged down her tank top just a little lower and pulled her booty shorts up just a little higher.

Now or never.

He heard her approach before he saw her, turning around with a raised brow, squinting his eyes against the harsh sun reflecting off his driveway.

“Hello, Mr. Miller.”

She looked pretty, always did, no matter what she wore.

But he couldn’t deny that there was something about the skimpy shorts and the way her breasts threatened to spill out of her top that just made her prettier.

Hotter.

Hair done up and a nervous, little smile on her face.

“Hello, darlin’.” He greeted her, wiping some oil off of his hands with a rag. Joel was curious to find out why she had come over. This was the first time she had made the way alone. “Told you before you can call me Joel.”

She stopped not too far from him, looking a bit unsure, her eyes fixed on his hands, how the tattoos moved with them. 

How adorable.

He couldn’t tell if she was more fascinated by his hands or the images on them.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Did something happen?”

Joel knew nothing had happened, smiling as he asked. 

Of course he had noticed the way she looked at him when she thought he was busy. Or at dinner, when he was over for a beer. 

When he fixed something at their place.

Always staring with her pretty eyes, turning away whenever she thought he had almost caught her.

And he couldn’t deny that he had thought about her, even if he tried not to, for her old man’s sake.

How couldn’t he?

With the way she looked and the way she acted? He’d be stupid not to think about her.

“I just- I saw you working on your bike and just wanted to ask if I could watch?” She asked, internally slapping herself for just how stupid she sounded. Watching him work on his bike, yeah sure. “I think it’s really cool and-”

“Sure, darlin’.” He chuckled, cutting off her nervous rambling. Watched as her eyes snapped up to his, smile on her face. “Wanna get a closer look?”

She nodded, eyes sparkling. All she could think about was how good he looked, with that smile of his and how it let the corner of his eyes crinkle slightly.

Joel just laughed and beckoned her closer with a nod of his head.

There was literally nothing she knew about bikes, still taking it in with wide eyes as she stepped closer to the Harley. It looked cool, that was really all she knew.

And he looked cool when he sat on it, riding through the neighbourhood, leather jacket and helmet on.

Got her squeezing her thighs together every damn time he raced past her house, running to the window when she already heard the familiar sound of it echoing up and down the street.

Joel only watched her, a smirk still on his face as he saw her circle it, lips slightly parted.

He couldn’t resist letting his eyes roam down to her ass, just peeking out from under these little shorts, making his dick twitch in his pants.

“It’s pretty.” She said sheepishly. “Like, super cool.”

“You can touch, it won’t bite.” 

Her eyes snapped up to him, apprehensive to touch the obviously very expensive motorbike, but then reaching out to touch the cool metal, the soft leather seat.

It really was a cool bike.

“Ever ridden one before?” He asked, stuffing the rag he had wiped his fingers with earlier into the back pocket of his jeans, watching her shake her head.

The way she looked at the bike almost made him wonder if she really was here for that instead of what he thought she was here for.

“No, dad said it’s too fucking dangerous to ride one.” She chuckled, trying to imagine herself on one.

All cool, clad in protective leather with sunglasses on. But never as cool as Mr. Miller.

“You’re old enough, sweetheart, your old man can’t do shit if you want one.”

Joel laughed and she joined in, clearly relaxing now.

“Yeah, like I got the money for a fucking Harley.” She joked, finishing her round and coming to stand beside him. “Said he was gonna kick me out anyways if I get one.”

A half-joke, she knew he would never.

Joel just nodded, thinking.

“You wanna sit on it?”

She looked up at him, clearly surprised by his question.

“C’mon, do it. I don’t mind.” He added, seeing the hesitation on her face. 

She really looked adorable like this, biting her bottom lip and her fingers playing with the rings on her hands. 

Fuck, they were small.

How often had he imagined them wrapped around his hard cock while he was fucking into his own fist.

So nimble and thin compared to his. Made it difficult to really imagine it was her getting him off.

“You sure, Mr. Mill-” She quickly cut herself off, correcting herself. “I mean, Joel?”

Her calling him Mister had never failed to make his dick twitch ever since had really taken notice of her one or two years back.

It was like the switch had flipped one day and he had finally seen how fucking pretty and hot she was.

“Go ahead.”

He watched her get on, a little clumsy as she swung one leg over the machine but managed to sit down. Her ass looked so good on his bike, her hands wrapping around the handles apprehensively.

“How’s she feel?” He asked, stepping a little closer as she adjusted herself on it, looking over it.

“Feels good.” She said with a smile, looking back at him, and god, that smile could melt him more than the Texas sun. “Do I look cool?”

Joel had to laugh at that, nodding his head. “Very fucking cool. Wanna feel her?”

Her brows furrowed at his words, her eyes saying everything.

“Scoot over, darlin’.” He said, swinging his leg over the bike and coming to sit behind her, his hands replacing hers on the handles.

She went rigid, with him so close to her, gasping when he turned the bike on, revving it a few times.

His laugh was so close to her ear, his chest pressed against her back as he leaned forward a little.

“What do you think?” 

A nervous laugh escaped her, moving back just a little, having to bite back a small noise when she felt him.

Already hard against her ass, hips rutting forward subconsciously as she moved against him.

She could swear she heard him groan, the loud engine drowning out the sound of it in the small garage.

Shit, he really was hard. But she tried to play it off, like she didn’t feel anything.

“Really cool, Joel.”

Joel noticed, of course, the way she stiffened and became nervous now.

His hips ground into her ass again, mouth close to her ear now.

“Wanna go for a ride?” He asked, turning off the motor, the sudden silence almost louder than the bike had been. Deafening, suffocating. “Or are you interested in a different kind of ride, sweetheart?”

She whimpered, a small noise in the back of her throat, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. Eyes wide, maybe a little scared.

“What do you mean, Joel?”

Now that she had been cornered, she found it hard to speak, like her tongue had been tied up and rendered useless. He wasn’t actually implying what she thought he was implying, was he?

“You know what I mean, sweetheart.” He said, voice low. One of his hands came to rest on her bare thigh, feeling the softness of her skin, her eyes moving to it. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, darlin’.”

It creeped higher, her breath hitching when he squeezed a little.

“And now you come over in those skimpy shorts with your tits spilling out of your tank top and wanna tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“Joel-” Her voice was shaky, swallowing hard. “I’m-”

All he wanted was to kiss her neck, so inviting as his hand wandered down again, her hips squirming.

“C’mon, speak up like a big girl and tell me what you need.” The hand not on her thigh reached into his front pocket, finding the remote for the garage doors and pressing the button to shut them. 

Her heart was beating in her chest, whimpering as he pressed himself closer to her, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“Want you, Joel.” She breathed out, whimpering when his fingers flexed, his lips attaching to her neck now. “Fuck, I need you.”

He smirked, kissing down the column of her neck, enjoying the little sounds she made. Smelling as sweet as she looked.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he said, hand wandering to the button of her shorts, fiddling with it, “you’ve been thinking ‘bout me, haven’t you?”

She nodded, watching his thick fingers open the button, then pull down the zipper. Mesmerized by the way the thick veins on the back of his hand danced as he moved his fingers.

His other hand came up to cup her breast, making her moan, the sound bouncing off the walls and making him groan. Soft and warm and full, like they were made for him to hold.

Fuck, she sounded so sweet, he wondered what she’d sound like moaning his name as he fucked her. Spread her sweet pussy open with his cock.

“Been thinking about my dick? What it’d feel like?” He asked, voice raspy as his hand vanished into her shorts, finding her without underwear which drew a chuckle from him. “Stretching you open?”

She was so wet already, hips jerking forward when his fingers found her swollen clit, brushing over it. So, so eager to be touched.

“Y-Yeah.” Her answer was quiet, breathy. Throwing her head back against his shoulder as he gently pressed into her clit. 

“Ever had someone fuck you, sweetheart?”

She shook her head, hands grabbing his forearm for purchase. Feeling the muscles move beneath his skin made her head feel light.

No.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath. Couldn’t believe she was a fucking virgin.

It was impossible with how she looked.

“Joel, please-” She whined, needing more. His hand on her wasn’t enough, she needed him inside of her, feeling an orgasm come closer as he put more pressure behind his movements.

“Is someone needy for some cock?” He said, biting into the soft flesh at the crook of her neck. “What would your old man say if he saw you here, sweetheart?”

“Please-” It was all she could say, his fingers on her breast pinching her nipple through the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Please what, darlin’?” He asked, kissing over her shoulder, breath hot against her skin, his finger speeding up. “Talk to me, ask nicely.”

Her whines grew louder, hips bucking into his hand.

She needed him, aching for him to stretch her open.

“Please fuck me, Joel. Please!”

He chuckled, biting her earlobe and taking his hands out of her pants, laughing at the noise of protest she made.

She felt him get up behind her, looking at him confused for a moment before he already dragged her off the bike by her waist.

With his broad hands on her hips, he bent her over it, pressing himself against her ass, making her gasp as her hands felt around for something to brace herself on.

“Got no idea how long I’ve been thinking ‘bout you, sweetheart.” Joel grunted, fingers hooking into the waistband of her shorts and pulling them down hastily. “Your cute little ass peeking out of those slutty shorts, teasing me all the damn time, swingin’ your hips around me.”

His hands found her ass, giving her a playful, light smack, enjoying her surprised squeal. He kneaded the warm flesh before opening her for him.

“All wet for me, darlin’?” He asked, seeing her nod and moan, thumb hovering over her slick entrance and pressing against it just slightly. “What a pretty, little pussy.”

She whined, trying to press her hips back into him, making him chuckle.

Still kneading her ass, he shook his head.

“You’re such a needy little girl, aren’t you? Whining and moaning for some cock to fill you up.”

She nodded again, biting her bottom lip.

When she heard the zipper of his pants, she stilled, looking over her shoulder to watch him open his jeans and push it down along with his underwear.

Letting his heavy, thick cock spring free.

“Fuck.” She gasped, feeling warm suddenly. Nervousness settling in her stomach, his size unsettling her a little bit. “S’not gonna fit, Joel.”

He stepped closer to her, one hand on her ass and the other wrapped around the base of his cock, teasingly swiping the head through her slick folds, gathering the wetness and grunting at the feeling.

“Gonna make it fit, don’t worry, darlin’.” Joel pressed into her carefully, his own need making him impatient. “Gonna be nice ‘n gentle.”

She hissed at the sting, feeling him slide in carefully, stretching her out. A drawn out moan left her, unable to keep her voice down with how good he felt inside of her when he finally bottomed out and stilled.

So much better than her fingers.

“What a tight little pussy, darlin’. All for me.” His hands smoothed over her back, pushing up the tank top to expose more of her skin, feeling her pulse around him.

“Feels good, Joel.” She whimpered, biting her bottom lip. He was so big inside of her, nice and thick. Stretching her open just right. “Please.”

“Please, huh?” He chuckled, hands wandering to her hips again. One day he would have to fuck her so he could see her face when she said the word. “Always so polite, your dad taught you well.”

Joel pulled back slowly, hearing her moan ripple through her, before pushing back in all the way.

Setting a steady rhythm, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with their moans and grunts, echoing off the walls.

She felt hot, squeezing him tight and moving back into him with each thrust, her sounds so sweet he didn’t know how he had survived without them until now.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Looking so good bent over my bike, little pussy squeezin’ me tight.” He grunted, a particularly harsh thrust making her cry out and losing her balance for a moment, grappling for purchase. “But you gotta keep your noises down, don’t want anyone to hear you, hm?”

She slapped a hand over her mouth when his hips snapped into her again, as if to make her cry out on purpose.

“Don’t need the neighbours to know that Mr. Miller is fucking his friend’s daughter.”

He built her up fast, his cock feeling perfect inside of her, every snap of his hips getting her closer and closer to the edge.

His words were only spurring her on, his voice so deep and gravelly.

“C’mon, I know you’re close, sweetheart.” He grunted, losing his rhythm as he neared the edge as well. “Cum all over my cock like the good girl I know you are, ‘atta girl.”

She whined, sound muffled behind her hand, that familiar surge of her orgasm so much more intense when he pushed her over, crying out for him.

“There we go, ‘atta girl, pretty girl.”

Her legs felt wobbly as her entire body trembled, her slick coating his cock while he kept pounding into her, eyes on her ass, watching it jiggle in time with his thrusts.

Driving into her over and over, having just enough of a mind to pull out when he fell over the edge, stroking himself as white ropes of cum shot all over her ass and lower back, a deep grunt rumbling in his chest.

She whimpered, feeling so empty as he came all over her, his other hand on her hip holding her up, his noises making her shiver.

His cum felt warm on her back, a feeling she quite liked.

Her mind was hazy, hand falling from her mouth as she became limp, trying to gather her breath.

Joel swallowed hard, seeing her with his cum all over her.

What a pretty sight.

He knew then and there this wouldn’t be the only time this happened, already needing more as his thumb drew circles into her skin.

“You alright, darlin’?” He asked, reaching for the rag in his back pocket after he had pulled his pants up again and began to clean her up.

How he wished he could leave it there for longer, wished he could see her face covered in it.

Some day.

She nodded and hummed, slowly pushing herself up into a standing position, bracing herself on the Harley, legs wobbling.

“‘M fine, Joel, thank you.” She said, feeling him bend over behind her and pull up her shorts for her, helping her to close them.

He chuckled at her look when she turned around, hand on his tattooed forearm. Dazed smile and eyes glazed over, looking just a little too blissed out.

“Felt really good.”

“You good to walk home?” He asked, hand on her back, all the gentleman again now. “Or do you need a minute, sweetheart?”

Like he hadn’t just said all that filth about how tight she was. Or had his cock buried inside her to the hilt.

She nodded, walking beside him to the garage door which opened now. “Yeah, I think I’m good.”

“Good.” He said, wide, mischievous smile on his lips as the sun flooded back into the garage. Hand falling from her back now as they stood there, just looking at each other. “You know, sweetheart, if you wanna know more about bikes, just come on over.”

The look he gave her made her heart stop, but she giggled at his words.

“I’ll gladly teach you more.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

A wide grin graced her face, laughing again before she walked off, steps just a little wobbly still.

He could swear her hips swayed more than usual, ass peeking out at the bottom of her shorts again.

The barbeque at her place in two days would be very interesting.

And he really hoped she’d come over again, just so he could take her for another ride.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fandom #fics #fan fic #fan fiction #my writing

[extristitiavenit]

Too Sweet - @ohtheblissx

It was a day like any other for john, the rise and shine grind of stammering out of bed and into his kitchen to use the blender for his morning brew, bliss oil, jimson weed and coffee all ground together with just a pinch of hazelnut for task before he was soon his bouncing and charismatic self. Once the sun had come up, yes he woke before the sun, he had already been clad in a pair of tight skinny jeans, to avoid baggage during baptism and of course he wanted to make sure he looked his best so he had a relatively nice dress shirt, his vest to feel fancier and of course a shit ton of hair gel to keep that mess back in the water. He knew he had a long day ahead, so he grabbed several thermoses to fill his morning concoction for the go and he was out the door, barely beating the morning light.

Most days reserved for baptism had a lot of thought put into it, showmanship, scripts and it was a spectacle to be seen so he knew he had to be at his best. Unfortunately that meant being cracked out of his mind, tearing up the roads of hope county in his beloved car and making an entire ass of himself to the early rising farmers as he’d passed by. Once he was at his usual baptism spot he’d seen his devout workers already hard at work dumping the bliss into the shallow water and creating a natural barrier to attempt to keep it all maintained. He abhorred Faith for her littering, but this was a necessary evil. Eyeroll.

Black boots hit the morning dew-soaked grass beneath his car door, his eyes squinting at the sun beaming over the mountains even despite having his signature shades on, the bliss had made everything so more vibrant. “brothers, sisters.” He sighed out, he was exhausted much like any addict he didn’t sleep much and that attributed to his foul mood, not that he could take it out on any of his followers without joseph reprimanding him. “make sure after you bless the waters you get rid of those containers, and I mean get rid of. If I so much as see a single barrel on the side of the waters west of the henbane.. there will be hell to pay.” He wanted so badly to spit that out more aggressively than he did, but he knew that sometimes people got butthurt and ran back to run their mouths for brownie points, so he settled with clenching his jaw and gesturing for them to commence.

Him on the other hand, he had an entire roster of people who were willing to be baptized and usually they had a few not so willing participants but— today's schedule was cleared. The only thing that he was dreading was the fact that he was expected to be there upon pickup of every participant of the evenings event.

Which meant he had to sit either passenger inside of the van or spend all day driving himself to each location, so to save on gas and his own peace of mind he went with the van. One visit turned into two, minutes turned into hours and as many fake smiles as he had to muster was enough to drive a normal person insane, but john wasn’t normal and he’d spent the entire trip sipping on bliss and taking it easy. Half of the time he was on his phone scrolling aimlessly and trying not to get a boner, but eventually the time had come. They had picked up the final passenger in the van, and the show was about to begin.

Once they had been at the river and everyone had gotten themselves prepared, it was time for John to make his scene. It was only a few minutes before he was about to walk down to the edge of the water when one of his devout followers came up to him to whisper the news, there was a deputy on their way through town and a birdy had heard they were investigating the happenings at Eden’s Gate. There was almost a glint of excitement that washed over him, the dread of monotony was taking a toll on him and this was the spark that he needed to get his motivation back. What better way to have showmanship if you don’t have new fans? Of course part of him halfway expects it to be a yee yee local cop, but regardless of that he was ready to get the baptism on the go. If he could get the majority out of the way before the arrival of the newest victim deputy, it would be a lot less stressful.

#/ this is the first step of chaos #/ i am v sorry if it's shiddy. sleepy hours

[slut4prongs]

sunshine

regulus black x gn!reader

411 words

description: you and regulus are complete opposites, yet you couldn’t be happier together.

(sorry i died for a month. i don’t really like this but i wanted to post something again)

Regulus Black is, by all means, a quiet person. He keeps to himself and his select group of friends and to all else he is a dark and intimidating person.

You are a social butterfly, bouncing around various groups of friends from every house, smiling everywhere you go. All in all, you’re the opposite of Regulus Black.

Which is why it came as a shock to everyone the day he bid a goodbye to you, when you went to sit with your separate friends, by pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.

Though over time everyone around you both became accustomed to small occasional gestures of affection between the two of you, that is everyone except for Regulus.

He still finds it completely inconceivable that you, basically the sun to him, want to be with him.

So he still jumps a little when you suddenly appear behind him in the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist whilst he is in the middle of a idiotic conversation with Barty.

The second he hears your voice, all bubbly and excited, all thoughts of that previous conversation were out the window.

“Regulus!” You gasp excitedly as you squeeze around his waist gently.

“Hello, love.” He responds while quickly turning himself around in your arms to face you.

“You won’t believe what happened in transfiguration today!” You say while bouncing up and down on your toes.

Regulus quirks an eyebrow as a silent gesture of telling you to continue.

“Okay, okay, so..” You begin to ramble excitedly about some silly thing James had done to impress Lily, but Regulus wasn’t exactly listening.

Well of course he was listening, he listens to everything you’ve ever said, but at this very moment he was enraptured by just watching you.

The way your eyes sparkle in the light beaming in from the windows, how your hair is slightly messed up from the school day, but especially the glowing smile on your face as you talk a mile a minute.

Eventually Regulus snaps out of his little trance, glancing behind your head seeing Barty and Evan laughing and mocking Regulus, who's always been stone cold, melting before their eyes.

But what snaps them all out of their silent mocking, is when you finish your story.

“I mean I just can’t believe Lily finally agreed to a date with him.”

All three boys snap to your face when you say that and at once they speak.

“She said yes??”

-

#marauders #marauders era #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus x reader #regulus x y/n #regulus x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #regulus black fluff #regulus black fic #regulus black blurb #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black one shot #regulus black drabble #regulus black oneshot #regulus black blurbs #regulus black scenario